11-14-08 dr. M. "The Girl on the Bridge" - FemDom

Here's the deal on this story. I'm trying to write a story (novella, probably) in which a maledom is topped by a femdom but in a semi-subtle way. This is part of the first chapter. She's going to become his Domme, but it's going to happen believably and slowly and mainly through love. She's not going to go in there with a whip and a chair. This is the first sex scene and it happens after they first meet and I want to know how it comes off. I want to know how it works as a meeting scene and a first-time sex scene.

This scene is ambiguous as to who's really in charge. I'm trying to walk a fine line here, to have him dommed without his really knowing he's being dommed, if such a thing is even possible.

It's kind of long so I've truncated it for you. The actual first meeting is when he saves her from committing suicide by jumping off a bridge into the Chicago River at 2 AM, which is a weird thing for a domme to do, but I think it fits with her character as I envision it, because, as I say, she's not a hard-core leather mama but a woman with doubts and fears and insecurities herself. He's kind of thinking of killing himself too, so this happy couple meets on the bridge, he saves her, and brings her back to his place, and that's where the scene opens.

I'll post the meeting-on-the-bridge scene in another thread should anyone want to look at it, but it needs serious work. This story started out as an M/f story in which Michael saves Beth from committing suicide and in return she pledges her life to him, to become his slave, but in writing it I just got so bored with writing M/f stuff that I just couldn't take it anymore. Still, the meeting-on-the-bridge retains a lot of M/f character that has to be changed to M/F.

I apologize for the length. A lot of it is just dialogue though.

The Girl on the Bridge (excerpt)​

She was numb, like she was stunned, and she didn't stop crying till I parked in the alley behind my place and dragged her upstairs, turned her around and sat her down on the sofa.

I poured her some whiskey and gave it to her.

"I don’t want it," she said.

I nodded. It made sense to me. I don't know why they're always offering people drinks in the movies. What she needed was some Thorazine or Demerol to knock her out.

Instead she sat there, looking around my place and rubbing her eyes. I lived in a rear coach house, an ancient place of uneven floors, high ceilings, and crooked windows, stuffed with books and potted plants and paraphernalia from my job as a chemist at Wyandotte Pharmaceuticals, old flasks and condensers and pieces of glassware that had caught my fancy.

In addition, there were suspicious eye bolts in the ceiling and the doorways, some with chains still hanging from my last assignation with a woman here. I have certain specialized sexual proclivities I indulge in, and, living alone, I'm not used to having to hide the evidence. My last long-term relationship hadn't ended well, which was one of the reasons I was wandering around at night drinking and visiting that bridge, and which also perhaps explained the less that pristine appearance of the place.

"My name's Michael," I said. "You going to tell me yours?"

She sat there hugging herself. "You live here?"

It seemed pretty obvious to me. "Yeah. I do."

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"Would you rather go some place else? Just say the word. You have a home, I take it? Or is that gone? Is that why you were out there."

She stared at me for a moment and then said, "I'm married." She pulled off her glove and showed me a rather large diamond on her hand.

"Uh-huh. So there's trouble in paradise?"

"You wouldn't understand. You couldn't begin to understand."

I shrugged. "Well it's probably none of my business anyway. My only question now is what do we do with you? You want me to call you a cab or something?"

She sunk into her chair. "I'm cold. Do you have a blanket?"

"A blanket?"

I did. I have an aunt who's an inveterate knitter, and she'd made me several afghans, so I pulled one off the back of the sofa and spread it out on her. She gripped it tightly against her and I went over and turned up the thermostat on the space heater. The place is too old and quirky for central heat.

Now that I could get a good look at her I realized she was older than I'd thought. That stunt on the bridge seemed like such a teenage bit of melodrama that I'd assumed she was very young, but now I saw that she was all grown up; old enough to know better, old enough to command a man's respect. Her long red hair was a mess, but as she ran a brush through it I realized her haircut had been expensive, and so were her shoes and what clothes I could see beneath the afghan and her coat. She came from money, from luxury, and she was naturally vain about it.

"Things are totally fucked up," she said. "Fucked up beyond all hope. I don't have a home anymore. I don't have any place to go. I don't want them to get their hands on me again. They're the ones who drove me to this. God knows what they'll do if they find out about this!"

I sat down in a chair opposite her. "And just who are you talking about?"

"My husband. His family. My mother. It's like a damned gothic novel. I want a separation. I need a divorce but he won't give it to me. Because he's a bastard and he's got everyone on his side, and what am I supposed to do?"

"Why don't you tell me about it?" I was curious, but I was more involved in watching her brush her hair, which was as thick as taffy. "Just who are you?"

She dropped the top of the blanket now and even unbuttoned her coat. She was wearing a rust colored jacket beneath and a dark brown, silky blouse. I saw now that the scarves matched her blouse very nicely.

"Look. You don't know who I am and I don't know who you are and I like it that way. Really, you don't know what a relief it is not to be known. Let's keep things like that."

"Oh?" I asked. "Should I know who you are?"

"You might. If you traveled in the right circles you might. What sort of business are you in?"

"I'm a chemist."

"A chemist? Must be nice. Not much money in that. You don't have to worry about people fighting about it all the time." She sighed and looked away. "You probably wouldn't know me, then. You can call me Beth."

"Okay, Beth," I said. "Now, what are we going to do with you?"

Her eyes suddenly looked sad. "Please don’t say things like that. That's the way they talk about me, like I'm some problem."

"I'm sorry," I said, and I was. "But you're something of a problem to me. You can't really stay here."

She looked around, looked down at the sofa she was sitting on.

"Why not? I won't be a bother. I can just sleep on the couch here."

"Beth, I don't know you from Adam, and you don't know me. I mean, spending the night in a stranger's apartment…?"

She was looking at the chains hanging from the screw-eyes in the ceiling. They'd been up there so long I'd forgotten about them, in fact I'd taken to hanging my clothes from them when I came in from the dry cleaners, though there were no clothes up there now, thank God. She might have thought I used them for exercise or something, but there was a matching set of screw eyes set into a board on the floor beneath them, and then there was a lamp table with a riding crop and a jar of sexual lubricant. I hadn't bothered to put anything away. The stuff had been sitting out for three weeks.

She stared at them and I watched her, then her eyes flicked up at me and away. She said nothing but I felt my scalp start to prickle.

"Let me tell you what's happening," she said, shifting in her seat. "Maybe that will help you understand. I have some money. More than is good for me, probably. My husband pretty much married me for it as it turns out. It's not what you'd call a happy marriage. And now he wants to take it away from me. They want to have me declared mentally incompetent."

"They?"

"He and his family. He's got some brothers. Assholes."

"Uh huh. And so that's why you decided to jump off the Clark Street Bridge. To prove them wrong."

"Please. This isn't a joke and I'm kind of desperate. They've almost succeeded. I don't want to go back to that man."

"All the more reason you can't stay here. How's it going to look that you're sleeping around with strangers?"

"Oh, please. He could give a damn about that. He's already fucking all my friends. It's never been what you'd call an exclusive marriage."

I sat back in my chair. "Look," I said. "Why are you telling me all this?"

That seemed to stop her. "God, I don't know. Shouldn't I be?"

With the warmth generated by the space heater, I caught a trace of her perfume. She seemed so out of place among my things. She made everything seem so shabby and bachelorish.

"What do you want from me, Beth?"

"Let me stay here tonight. I have no place to go and I don't want to be alone."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't. I'm not in the habit of sharing my place with strangers. Unless," I said, "You had in mind being something other than strangers."

She wasn't surprised and she wasn't shocked. She just flipped her hair out of her face and said, "I don't think you'd like me, Michael. I don't take orders well."

"Who said anything about taking orders?"

She gestured with her chin. "I'm looking at a riding crop sitting on a table and some chains hanging from your ceiling," she said. "Unless there's a pet gorilla you're not telling me about, there's something kinky going on here. You don't look like the bottom type. Only a dom would let himself live in this kind of mess, and not a very good one. That's not quite my cup of tea."

I smiled. The look in her eyes was making my stomach weak—a natural glow that reflected the color in her cheeks.

"Very good," I said. "But I'm eminently flexible."

"Not flexible enough, I'd bet." She returned my smile and cocked an eyebrow. "Are you still offering that drink?"

She was in full seductive mode and she was powerful, and I was delighted with her despite myself, charmed.

I stood up. "Sure. Straight whiskey? Water?"

"Water. Not too strong."

I went into the kitchen and made two drinks, whiskey on the rocks with water. All the glasses were dirty so I had to wash and dry two, and it struck me how right she was. My place was a mess. It was as if I was suddenly being awakened from a dream of fog and apathy to find I've been living without plan or structure for God knows how many weeks, and I was dazed and embarrassed to find out the condition I was in..

I turned off the lights and went back into the living room to find Beth looking at my books. She'd taken off the blanket and her coat and in her tight-fitting jacket and shiny silk blouse she looked lithe and stunning. How could she have been thinking of killing herself?

I handed her her drink and we toasted. he fingers were long and slim, elegant. I found the thought that she was married strangely thrilling. I liked the way she hated her husband but loved her ring.

She looked at me over the rim of her glass as she drank, then lowered the glass and sat on the sofa

"Now tell me," she said. "Why were you out on that bridge?"

I looked for a place to sit, but sitting seemed wrong somehow. Beth indicated the space on the sofa next to her and said, "Sit," so I did.

I was going to explain, going to launch into some long story about spending the nights driving around downtown just to blow off steam so I could sleep, about having too much energy, being too wound up. I was ready to go into the usual spiel that I always told myself, but instead I heard myself blurt out the truth.

I said: "I think I was thinking of killing myself too."

She looked at me. "Yes. I thought so."

"I broke up with a girl four, five months ago. Jennifer."

"Ah. A girl."

"Best sub I ever had. And then we just fell apart. It got stale, you know? It got old. There was no…resistance there anymore, no challenge. Nothing left to discover. There was no meat to it, but I haven't have any rest since. Haven't had any peace. Days I work. Nights I drive around or drink. I don't know where I'm going. What I'm doing anymore. She was covering up some kind of hole, a kind of roaring emptiness."

"So you must miss her very much."

"I don't know. I don't know if I miss her at all, really. It's like what we were doing together just stopped working for me. It all got so predictable, so easy. It left me feeling empty."

"I know what you mean," she said. "I felt like that once."

"What did you do about it?"

She sighed. "It doesn't much matter what I did, does it? But you just reminded me how stupid it is to jump from a bridge over it. And there you were telling me to jump." She smiled.

"I didn't really want you to jump."

"It doesn't much matter. At least you didn't try and pick me up."

"Would that have mattered?"

"Yes. I really wasn't in the mood for that."

"Yeah. I can understand that." I took a drink. "So why were you going to jump?"

"Oh, I had a good reason. Because people are assholes and I wanted to fuck them all over. I don't think I really wanted to jump though. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could, that I had that arrow in my quiver. I like being prepared."

I looked at her. She was truly a beautiful woman. With her hair brushed now and the cold wind off her, she had a streak of pride that showed in her features not as arrogance but as a kind of intoxicating sobriety or level-headedness, a kind of wisdom. She sat upright in a way that was touching, given the slightness of her form and her curves. She was noble.

"You're quite beautiful, Beth. You know that?"

She looked askance at me.

"Still trying, Michael? You don't even know what color my eyes are."

"Brown."

"Wrong. Sienna."

"I never know what color sienna is."

"Well look!" And she leaned over and stared comically into my eyes so I could see her irises quite clearly.

"And you," she said. "Aren't much of an asshole for a male dom."

"Oh? Is that a compliment?"

"A big one. Or are you?" she smiled wryly at me.

"I don't know," I said. "Are you going to sleep with me tonight and find out?"

"No." She turned serious. "Don't ruin it, Michael. I like you."

"Ruin what? I saved your ass tonight and you say you want to stay in my flat. What am I supposed to think?"

"I thought you were mourning your lost Jennifer."

"You could help me forget her."

"You're not chaining me up. I don't do that."

"Okay. I don't have to."

"No. Forget it."

She stood up and went to the space heater as if suddenly cold.

"Tell me about your Jennifer. Tell me how you suffered."

"How I suffered?"

"Yes."

"Oh. You like that?"

"I just want to hear."

I sighed. "When we broke up I missed her like crazy. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, would actually cry myself to sleep. Real tears. I'd have to take long walks in the park and walk down by the lake. I thought about throwing myself in. I'd come back and want to masturbate to her, but I became impotent, so I couldn't even satisfy myself that way."

"That must have been terrible for you."

"It was horrible. To be horny and need to come and not even be able to get erect? It was agony. And then to be unmanned on top of it? To know the reason you can't get relief is your own failure as a man?"

"Yes. Are you still impotent, Michael?"

"No, thank God!"

Beth was standing with her arms crossed and was caressing her shoulders dreamily. "It's so romantic when a man suffers for a woman."

"Well it wasn't romantic for me. It was hell. Then I had to opportunity to take her back. She wanted to come back, and I realized it wasn't her at all. I was just done with her. Something was gone from our relationship, some magic, some bit of conflict that had given it life. It was all too easy, too available, and that's when the real trouble started. Because worse than pain is no feeling at all."

"And that's how you feel now?" she asked.

"More or less, yeah. Numbed out. Dead."

Beth didn't say anything for a few seconds, then, "Do you really want to sleep with me, Michael?"

I looked at her in surprise. "Well yes. Of course I do."

"You're not that numb, huh?"

"No."

"Tell me you do, then."

I put down my drink and sat forward. "I want to sleep with you, Beth. very much."

She smiled shyly. "No. Not like that. Say it like you mean it. You know..."

I did know.

"I want to fuck you, Beth. I want to grab you and rip your clothes off and fuck you till you scream."

"Mmmm," Her smile vanished. Her eyes were half closed. "But you can't. I won't let you. But would you like to get off for me, Michael?"

I looked at her, puzzled.

"I won't sleep with you, but you can masturbate for me."

I was stunned. "Are you kidding?"

"No. Of course I'm not kidding. I love to see a man masturbate. I'll even take my pants and blouse off if you promise not to touch me."

I was a bit incredulous. "Are you going to masturbate too?"

"No, Michael. I told you what I'd do. That has to be enough."

I stared at her for a long moment. Her face was composed and serene, her arms folded over her breasts. Only the pulse in her throat showed she might have felt any excitement at all.

I'm a dom. I'm used to giving orders and being obeyed, but it was obvious that Beth wasn't going to take any orders. I didn't feel like fighting about it though. She had me excited. With her proud, serene face and her lush red hair, the provocative tilt of her hips and the way she was caressing her arm as she looked at me, she had me aroused. Now she was inviting me to arouse her even more and suddenly there was nothing I'd rather do.

"Alright," I said. "Alright. What do you want me to do?"

"Take your penis out. I want to see you get hard."

I opened my pants and skinned them down to my knees. My cock was already filling with blood but still mostly flaccid, but as soon as I slid my pants down and Beth sidled over it started to grow, ratcheting up, getting bigger with each beat of my heart. She stood by the chair across from the sofa, her eyes falling casually on my dick. She said nothing, then, as my cock came to full attention, she murmured "That's so nice. I love to see a man get hard for me."

Her words gave me a thrill. I've never been an exhibitionist, but I surged with shameful pride now. I scooted forward till my ass was on the edge of the sofa so she could get a good look and Beth took off her jacket and began to unbutton her blouse. She popped the first three buttons and by that time my dick was high and tall and engorged with blood, throbbing.

"Go ahead, Michael," she said. "Do it. Beat off for me."

I gave a little laugh. "Are you giving the orders?" But she didn't answer.

I took my cock in my right hand and started to pump. I was hard, the skin stretched taut, and my hand felt good. I felt no shame, no embarrassment at all. The only thing I felt was a little dismay at being made to perform for her like a trained monkey, and I was a little ashamed at my natural male randiness, always ready to get hard and ejaculate under the most rude and unsavory conditions. I didn't even need for her to undress any further. It was enough just to have her there watching me and I was already prepared to ejaculate, to shoot my seed all over my belly. I was little more than a cum-puppet in this beautiful woman's hands.

"Slower," she said. "I want this to last a while."

I slowed my hand, which turned my pleasure into a kind of spine-chilling agony as my balls flooded with cum and lubricant spilled from my slit of my dick, making me moan inadvertently. Beth's fingers caressed the bare skin between her tits and idly stroked the nascent mound of her left breast as she watched me with what seemed like detached interest. She didn't seem to care whether it hurt me or not.

"What are you thinking about, Michael?" she asked idly as my hand slid the loose skin up and down on my steely stalk.

"You," I said. "I'm thinking about fucking you."

She smiled. "Good. I like that," she said. "How are we doing it?"

"Face to face. Ugh! I'm driving it into you! Hurting you with it! Pushing your knees up to your tits!"

"My," she cocked her head. "You're a violent one, aren't you?"

Each stroke of my hand was producing a dollop of pre-cum that slid down my shaft now and over my fingers, and my balls were aching. I started frigging myself faster but Beth said, "Slower, Michael. I want you to do it slower."

"Fuck you. I want to come!"

"Trust me. Do it slower. It'll be better this way."

"What?"

She peeled off her pants and folded them and laid them on the chair and stood there in her bikini panties and her silky blouse. I could see the bulge in her panties from where her labia pouched against the silky fabric of her panties, but more than that, the act of taking off her slacks and presenting herself to me had such erotic impact that I felt chills from scalp to asshole and I immediately slowed my hand to that agonizing rhythm she wanted once again, just to make it last, just like she said.

"Oh God, Beth! Let me come!"

"In a minute, Michael. Stop for now."

"Stop?!"

"Stop."

"Fuck!"

It took a huge act of will to stop, and when I did my cock was twitching and jerking, trying to reach the orgasm it had been denied. Beth finished unbuttoning her blouse and removed it to reveal a gorgeous cream-colored bra and a lithe, sinuous body that fit her underthings like a jewel in a setting.

I wanted her. I wanted to defile her and penetrate her. I wanted to pull her down and soil her and bite her and make her dirty. My cock was aching, throbbing with the pressure of pent-up semen howling for release, myhands aching for the sweetness of female flesh. I wanted to come all over her.

She swept her hair back behind her ears as if to keep it from even getting close to me and said, "Go on now, just a little faster. I want to see you come now, Michael. Shoot it straight into the air."

I began to beat off again and again she corrected me on the speed. Every time she watched to see how fast I did it and then made me do it just a little slower. It was maddening, delaying me, denying me, making my balls seethe with a maelstrom of boiling cum and making me writhe on the sofa till the whole lower half of my body was on fire.

"Jesus, Beth! Let me come! I've got to come!"

"Who's stopping you, Michael?" she asked sweetly.

And then I realized she was right: I was doing it for her, pumping myself so slowly just because she'd told me to, following her orders.

But I couldn't now. I couldn't speed up. I kept at that slow speed until I was in agony, and then that agony broke, and a tide of pleasure ripped through me, a tide of pleasure and relief like I'd never experienced before.

"Oh God! God! I'm coming!" I lifted my ass off the sofa and thrust out my loins and ejaculated three feet straight up, a giant shot of semen that arced into the air and fell back on my chest like a sky rocket to be followed by another and then a third, and then my balls just emptied themselves in a drooling fountain of cum that gushed from my open slit and flooded down my shaft...

Here's the deal on this story. I'm trying to write a story (novella, probably) in which a maledom is topped by a femdom but in a semi-subtle way. This is part of the first chapter. She's going to become his Domme, but it's going to happen believably and slowly and mainly through love. She's not going to go in there with a whip and a chair. This is the first sex scene and it happens after they first meet and I want to know how it comes off. I want to know how it works as a meeting scene and a first-time sex scene.

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I don't know that this needs to be a novella, it's a fine little short story just the way it is. Since I enjoyed it so much, most of my comments are on the minor side. I'm really not sure why you want to include the bridge scene, which I haven't read. Seems like they cover everything important that happened at the bridge in their conversation. It was fun playing catch-up with how they had met, and trying to figure out who might not be telling the truth.

Zoot said:

This scene is ambiguous as to who's really in charge. I'm trying to walk a fine line here, to have him dommed without his really knowing he's being dommed, if such a thing is even possible.

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Yeah, I think it's possible, even probable, that anyone who's been in a long-term relationship has been subtly dommed by their partner. However, I don't think it's ambiguous who is in charge in this scene, nor do I believe he doesn't really know it. Maybe he doesn't want to admit it, but I think he knows. It works, and works well, not being so subtle, or slow either- it's only an issue if you really wanted something else.

Zoot said:

I apologize for the length. A lot of it is just dialogue though.

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What length? And please- it's not just dialogue! Dialogue like this is part of the story, and it's sexier than, well, the sex- though that's pretty good too. Here are a few of the lines I really enjoyed:

story said:

"I'm cold. Do you have a blanket?"
"Oh. You like that?"
"Well look!"
"I just wanted to prove to myself that I could, that I had that arrow in my quiver."
"That's so nice. I love to see a man get hard for me."
"No." She turned serious."Don't ruin it, Michael. I like you."
I liked the way she hated her husband but loved her ring.

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Ok, that last one wasn't dialogue, but since it's a first-person story, it's close enough. And do we really need the She turned serious part on the next to last one?

story said:

She dropped the top of the blanket now...

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Where can I get a space heater that works like his!

story said:

"Oh God, Beth! Let me come!"

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I think this one is a little too much, unless he has totally admitted the situation to himself. What about something subtler, like, "I don't think I can last," which also leads right into her next demand? If anything, I don't think she makes him wait quite long enough. Looks like you maybe wanted to gloss over a little at the end, and I didn't want you to.

story said:

Only a dom would let himself live in this kind of mess...

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So every slob I've ever known was a secret dom? I so doubt it!

story said:

I was little more than a cum-puppet in this beautiful woman's hands.

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You remember when you said something about writing a story and then omitting the first two paragraphs? What about writing a paragraph and omitting the last line? Another last line I didn't care for:

story said:

The place is too old and quirky for central heat.

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Neither is a major issue, I just like it better without them.

story said:

"Sure. Straight whiskey? Water?"
"Water. Not too strong."

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What if she demands something other than the two things he suggests?

story said:

"Face to face. Ugh! I'm driving it into you! Hurting you with it! Pushing your knees up to your tits!"

"My," she cocked her head. "You're a violent one, aren't you?"

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But that's such a great position! I don't know why he thinks it hurts or why she thinks it's violent. Or is she just teasing him?

story said:

"Oh God! God! I'm coming!"

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This kind of announcement during sex usually makes me roll my eyes- like who really feels like they need to announce it? But after I thought about it, I decided it worked after all in their situation.


Overall, the story works for me. It's nice and steamy, kinda simmering throughout, you know? The few issues I did bring up are really minor. Two persons who believe themselves dominant showing up to contemplate jumping off the same bridge- that's such a clever idea. Love the way it turns the whole stereotypical dom thing upside down- which is kinda what the story's about, right? Whether you leave it like it is or decide to expand it to cover the divorce and the moment Michael finally admits what the reader already knows, it's visceral writing- in a good way. I'm kinda curious if other readers will feel the same way about it.

Thanks for sharing your work with us.


P.S.

Zoot said:

As a matter of fact, it involves Femdom, yes. The very new archetype we've been talking about.

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Which discussion is this?

Penelope Street said:

Which discussion is this?

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God, I've been so involved in this, I thought everyone was.

It's kind of long to read all of now, but the discussion's here. I'll summarize.

Pure was looking for an archetype or examples of a kind F/m relationship that's more symbiotic and less predatory (as I understand it) than what we usually see in most BDSM stories. The discussion has gone on for pages now, and has been terribly educational and stimulating for me, touching on things like traditional male and female sex roles, what it means to "dominate", the nature of masculinity and femininity and autonomy. I wanted to take what I'd learned from that thread and create a relationship based on that, and this story's the result.
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I see what you mean about the last two lines. Funny. I had the same feeling about that space heater line, which I'd added on the final edit. I should have left it out. I added it because i actually lived in a place like that that had space heaters and was old and quirky. Most people probably don't even care what a space heater is.

I'm going to reserve judgment on the cum-puppet line. It's kind of silly, but one of the things I'm concerned about now is that he's not mentally submissive enough to her. I want to show him feeling a little more humiliated, a little more consumed and out of control.

I've been noticing lately a tendency I have to overwrite. To put in a "she said seriously" when it's obvious she couldn't have said it any other way. I have to watch that.

Thanks for your comments. Deft as always, Penny.

Zoot said:

I'm going to reserve judgment on the cum-puppet line.

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To me, this is such an excellent line to discuss on a few levels. If you're seeking a smooth transition over several chapters, then do you really want your hero saying he's already cum-puppet in the first chapter? On the other hand, he would be telling this story at a later time, so it's entirely reasonable for him to view this moment differently than he did when he experienced it. But do readers anticipate a story told from the perspective of the final, altered character at the end of the story, or from the various versions of the character during the story? The former is more realistic, but I tend to believe readers intuitively assume the latter, without really giving it much thought.

notes

hi doc,

it was an engrossing read, and i skimmed the earlier portion you also posted. it's well done. pretty clean, if a trifle over written at times. //my balls seethe with a maelstrom of boiling cum//
it's plausible in its way and the dialogue seems believable as dialogue.

good work!. i'm sure the novella will be a hit. given a general favorable impression, i'll take the time to offer some thoughts. some may be 'off base' and of the type "why don't you write a different story". but here goes. thanks for sharing, by the way!

apparently it's a first time sex and first time him dommed scene. it's hardly 'ambiguous' or him not knowing. he even calls himself 'cum puppet.'

i don't have the whole picture, nor know the pace of dev't. here, it's rather fast. it's a porn convention that ##)whatever it is, the person's gonna do it first chance they get.

i see the point of not having them fuck, since he's just met her. but the brazen 'jerk off for me' scene IS rather sudden. if you wanted sublety, i'd have them dry hump or her jerk him in his pants. a dry hump could just sort of happen if they lie together.

then i'd save the j o scene for the next morning at the earliest.
---

i think you have to think over your premise, i.e. P: that he's a dom and she is too; both old hands, so to say. she looks at hooks and says to herself, 'dom'. i guess things are pretty sophisticated in chicago. "Hi, I'm Elliot, and i'd like to top you." "Well, i have handcuffs in my purse, but they're going on you, boi. Name is Janice, btw."

i see the utility of the two dom premise. gets past a lot of probs of dev't. i'd give some thought though, to one of two plausible alternatives----- 1) him dom, she not that experienced with SM; definitely NOT self-labeling as 'domme', or 2)vice versa.

now i suppose you probably want him to have the big change, and end up on the botton, so the most workable might be 1).

how it would work is that certain things happen or she tries them on a whim, and they turn her on (and him), and it sorta snowballs. for instance if they lie down and one thing leads to another. he gets a dry hump. THAT is ambiguous, but you could show the reader that the thought of his soiling his underwear, and seeing his pants get a stain, turns her on.

ADDED: It must be noted that alternative 1), like your two-dom approach has inherent difficulites if she is going to *subtly* affect him: he's a dom; he's exquisitely sensitive to the power implications of things. so whatever she does has to be PRETTY DAMN subtle, for it to creep up on him. one alternative, a variant of 1), namely 1*), have him be would be a very green dom (which is why he failed with his first sub), or just the kind of ordinary guy who dreams of being a dom (tried it on Jen, with mixed results). you can see that we're shading towards 2), now; for IF he's ordinary, but with dreams of being a dom, and he meets her, the 'old hand' domme, she CAN slip things by him. example: coitus interuptus, ensuring, without apparent forethought, that he comes in her bush.


----

of course it's your story, so let's say they're gonna have him j o in the second hour they're at his place. i'd consider having her be more overt, if you're going with premise P. suppose, once she figures him, she simply says, "i'm a domme". and as far as events, have her say "i see you want to top, but the only way we're gonna do it, is me on top.' He could make suitable protests (i never switch), but give in to her seduction. The surprise, then, the story, is that he finds he likes it (and maybe never did before.).

==
but again it's your story; IF she's gonna be subtle, why does she not *avoid* issuing orders re sex. why not suggestions? it's really not hard to get a horny guy to jerk off. ("gee, i'd like to see this" often works) there needn't be any orders.

again, the 'stop' thing is obvious torture. she could just arrange it (that he stop at the edge), to take his hand, and, say, put it on her breast. this might fit your stated intent that he not quite realize he's being directed.

===
to be blunt, doc, the problem is ##). are you simply writing porn? then no prob., it's great. if not, things have to happen for a reason, not just 'pizza boy at the door, so he comes in and fucks.'

it should be stressed that whatever her dommishness, she's a woman. you *could* have a bit of straight sex, ya know. 'make out', if no fucking the first night. but add tiny clues. odd suggestions after what's apparently normal. alternatively, for example, there could be something straight forward (vanilla) the first time or two. then three days later, she isn't into a fuck and so suggests that she direct his wanking. it's quite plausible that she, initially, just be a kind of passive fuck ('do me buddy, i owe you one'), if her suicide actions are just a couple hours before.

so doc, you have to make up your mind. is there going to be something subtle and plausible, or is it just her: "well, you're a dom, and i'm a bit of one too; we could have a 'stand off', but if not, *i* will do any topping, ok?... so take out your dick."

there are by the way a number of comic possibilities, given the premise 'two suicidal doms meet on a bridge and end up going home together.' there could be one of the battles you like, her: "i'll do any topping"; him, "well, given that you've acted like a nut case, better leave it to me." "i'm a bit too unstable to switch, so since your so charged with mental health, it's best you undergo any bottomly upset to your pride." "heck no, i might be so upset i'd want to kill myself. end up like you!"

btw, is it necessary that that he be contemplating suicide at that bridge, that night?

--
note on earlier scene: if she's not quite so pathetic in the first part, it would help the reader accept her coming out in your main posting. she could be more defiant on the bridge, as in "fuck them" .... which is what she later says.

==
anyway, let me say, it's moving right along, and you're welcome to ignore any of the cavils or 'write a different story' comments. you'll do fine! i predict success.

thanks again for participating!

Doc,

While some of us theorize, you work!

I'm going to be brief here, because I'm probably going to muse more on the archetype thread, as the inspiration strikes. What I can say without qualification is that I love where you're going.

You have, indeed, struck something important with the idea of voluntary subjection, as opposed to man's being forced into it. Being 'forced' is a concept dear to both of us, due to our liking for stories with a touch of non-consent/reluctance, but it's not the only dramatic paradigm out there, and perhaps it works especially poorly when the one being 'forced' is a man.

Certainly, there are men who enjoy the fantasy, perhaps from a similar reason women enjoy it (those who do), and that reason is being the object of pursuit. No matter the indignities an 'evil' mistress inflicts on the man, she's ultimately granting him attention; same with the 'evil' guy who blackmails or otherwise forces the woman into sex. In both cases, the one pursued is indirectly complimented on their desirability and forced into no more than they wanted in the first place—sort of like the Rabbit in the Briar's Patch. The host of F/m stories out there, featuring women taking great pains to torture poor wimpy men, are by and large a product of male imagination and have a wishful character. The men are not so much 'made' into worms; it's rather they see themselves that way and desire a sort of punishment/catharsis, and perhaps someone to blame. Like Aristotle in that little parable, when caught on hands and knees with a carrot up their butt, they're quick to point a finger and say, "She made me do it!"

However, as a woman, I find this scenario a bit lacking, because I, frankly, cannot put myself in the place of the non-consensual pursuer. That is not to say I have scruples against taking an active role in a seduction, or that I don't enjoy fantasies or scenes of 'corrupting' a guy or inflicting anguished pleasures on him. When these should translate into stories, though, or into a paradigm for a relationship, a simple role reversal simply doesn't work. Stories like some of yours, where a guy grabs a woman because he just 'has to have her' have at least a fantasy plausibility for me, but the ones where a woman should do the same lose me entirely.

Perhaps, as Pure hypothesized, it has to do with the urgency of male desire. Aphrodite is not Zeus, even when she occupies his place on the throne, and she's not going to act the same. Disappointing though it may be to a portion of male subs—and perhaps even unfair to men in general, as some might point out—she's not all that interested in snatching a random guy and having her way with him. Much as I don't like to gender-stereotype, it's probably fair to say as much. A guy who's attractive in his own right and who wants to be made a 'fool' for her—who'd rather suffer for her than have fun with someone else—well, now we're talking. The voluntary aspect is the key of this relationship, and without it, I suspect, a story is not likely to appeal to many female readers.

As for the question of where it leaves one as to the dramatic structure of the story, I have to quote Pure again, who on another thread said it's "where the tire hits the road". Between "I want to be yours to use and abuse" and "They lived happily ever after" there's as many trials and tribulations as one can wish for.

The way you set this story promises all that and more. Penny has dealt with some nuts and bolts of the craft, so I'm not going to repeat after her, but I can't tell you how glad I am if our talks provided you with a bit of inspiration.

Best to you always,

Verdad

Penelope Street said:

To me, this is such an excellent line to discuss on a few levels. If you're seeking a smooth transition over several chapters, then do you really want your hero saying he's already cum-puppet in the first chapter? On the other hand, he would be telling this story at a later time, so it's entirely reasonable for him to view this moment differently than he did when he experienced it. But do readers anticipate a story told from the perspective of the final, altered character at the end of the story, or from the various versions of the character during the story? The former is more realistic, but I tend to believe readers intuitively assume the latter, without really giving it much thought.

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This is one of those maddening questions of POV, indeed. In addition to whose POV it is, there's the temporal dimension, dealing with how much the narrator knows at the time; whether the story is told with a retrograde perspective or just linearly as it unfolds. The answer, as usual, is that the best way to go is to use what serves the story best, but on a level of practical decisions it can be a quite a bit of a head-scratcher.

Penelope Street said:

Which discussion is this?

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Might we lure you in?

Pure said:

hi doc,

i think you have to think over your premise, i.e. P: that he's a dom and she is too; both old hands, so to say. she looks at hooks and says to herself, 'dom'. i guess things are pretty sophisticated in chicago. "Hi, I'm Elliot, and i'd like to top you." "Well, i have handcuffs in my purse, but they're going on you, boi. Name is Janice, btw."

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This felt totally plausible to me. They're both experienced players, so she recognizes what the hooks are for. I mean, it's not just hooks; it's hooks plus chains plus riding crop plus lube -- if she has any prior experience at all, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's into BDSM. I am surprised that she figures that he's a dom from the mess in his apartment; I've never heard a stereotype that doms are messier than subs, and while a sub may be ordered to keep something or the other neat, that doesn't mean that s/he will do so in the absence of such an order. And not all BDSM players are into D/S, and of the ones who are, many of them only do in-scene D/S, so even if he had a regular domme, she might not have authority over his day-to-day life, where she could give him standing orders about how to keep his apartment. Or hell, she could order him to keep it a mess so as to humiliate him. I'd have the female character take in the chains, riding crop, and lube and say, "Well, you've been having a good time. Top or bottom?"

It must be noted that alternative 1), like your two-dom approach has inherent difficulites if she is going to *subtly* affect him: he's a dom; he's exquisitely sensitive to the power implications of things. so whatever she does has to be PRETTY DAMN subtle, for it to creep up on him.

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I disagree. If the male character has been operating in a male-dom/female-sub world, it might not even occur to him that a woman could or would try to dominate him. Since the male characters are all Doc in disguise, I think the male character really CAN be this clueless, because I've seen Doc wrestle mightily with the idea of femdom and have great trouble wrapping his mind around it. If the character assumes that male-dom/female-sub is the default, the way of the world, the ordinary or normal way in which BDSM is done, then it could take a 2 x 4 upside the head to make him realize that she's a domme and that she's been working on him. I've been having some discussions with Doc, and a 2 x 4 is NOT overkill.

but again it's your story; IF she's gonna be subtle, why does she not *avoid* issuing orders re sex. why not suggestions? it's really not hard to get a horny guy to jerk off. ("gee, i'd like to see this" often works) there needn't be any orders.

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I agree that that would be more subtle and might make the story stronger in some ways. In other ways, it might be a clue to the male character's obliviousness that she's telling him what to do, and he doesn't recognize what she's doing as issuing orders because it's a woman doing it, and everybody knows they never issue sexual orders, right?

again, the 'stop' thing is obvious torture.

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Well, it is to us, because we've been clued in ahead of time by the author. I think it might be possible for her to say that she's enjoying watching him and doesn't want the show to be over too soon without his realizing that she's just using that as an excuse to torture him.

A bit less, and a bit more.

I simply can't get into the word-flow of your draft, I'm afraid. I understand what you're trying to achieve, but it doesn't really work for me, yet.

This part just seemed awkward - and uneven. I think a bit less, is more, at this point. I'd suggest editing out the parts I bolded. I think you're working too hard to make him 'flexible'. It comes across a bit too needy, on his part.

"

Let me stay here tonight. I have no place to go and I don't want to be alone."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't. I'm not in the habit of sharing my place with strangers. Unless," I said, "You had in mind being something other than strangers."

She wasn't surprised and she wasn't shocked. She just flipped her hair out of her face and said, "I don't think you'd like me, Michael. I don't take orders well."

"Who said anything about taking orders?"

She gestured with her chin. "I'm looking at a riding crop sitting on a table and some chains hanging from your ceiling," she said. "Unless there's a pet gorilla you're not telling me about, there's something kinky going on here. You don't look like the bottom type. Only a dom would let himself live in this kind of mess, and not a very good one. That's not quite my cup of tea."

I smiled. The look in her eyes was making my stomach weak—a natural glow that reflected the color in her cheeks.

"Very good," I said. "But I'm eminently flexible."

"Not flexible enough, I'd bet." She returned my smile and cocked an eyebrow. "Are you still offering that drink?"

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Do the following part in dialog. As narration, it doesn't work nearly as well.

I handed her her drink and we toasted. he fingers were long and slim, elegant. I found the thought that she was married strangely thrilling. I liked the way she hated her husband but loved her ring.

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I can't see someone wanting to commit suicide as a result of this explanation. I don't think you should lay his reasons out so plainly, so soon. Keep his drama conflicted and unarticulated for a while.

"I broke up with a girl four, five months ago. Jennifer."

"Ah. A girl."

"Best sub I ever had. And then we just fell apart. It got stale, you know? It got old. There was no…resistance there anymore, no challenge. Nothing left to discover. There was no meat to it, but I haven't have any rest since. Haven't had any peace. Days I work. Nights I drive around or drink. I don't know where I'm going. What I'm doing anymore. She was covering up some kind of hole, a kind of roaring emptiness."

"So you must miss her very much."

"I don't know. I don't know if I miss her at all, really. It's like what we were doing together just stopped working for me. It all got so predictable, so easy. It left me feeling empty."

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Overall, I think you are trying to pack too much into one scene. Leave him wanting her and wanting to earn her trust and her interest that first night, instead of taking it as far as you do. Let her sleep on the couch. Maybe in the still quiet of the next morning, it would work better. The pace and the emotional interplay justt seems a bit too forced, for me.

Sin.

Wow! Good thoughts here, good ideas! There are any number of avenues to pursue, either about this archetype, Verdad's ideas on the kind of reverse seduction Michael's pulling off, Pure's elaborations on the plot, Penny's story criticisms, or Cory's comments on my own understanding of Femdom, which are really intriguing me now too. I don't know which to address first…

But since this is the story discussion board, I guess I should treat this as a story and deal with its mechanical and content issues first.

So let me say that yes, I agree with Pure on the unlikelihood of a two-dom throwdown, and I really didn't mean for Beth to come off as an experienced dominatrix, and if she does come across that way, then it's something I have to fix. She's more of a latent who's going to discover her predilection through her relationship with Michael. I picture her rather as a rich party girl who's been around a lot of kink but never really spread her own wings. This suicide thing has changed her though and given her a new life. That's one of the things I have to try to show in here without making it so histrionic that it stops the whole story, but it's really changed her. She really feels like Michael's saved her life and that she's now somehow inextricably mixed up with him. He's going to elicit feelings from her and she'll elicit feelings from him, and I think that's the way it goes in real life too.

Michael himself is, of course, not the typical dom. Or at least not what I think of as a typical dom, plus he's damaged. The thrill of topping is gone for him. I think of him as being into the physical parts of D/s but maybe not that aware of the finer points of the mental game. In any case, at this point in his life he's just lonely.

Corylea said:

If the male character has been operating in a male-dom/female-sub world, it might not even occur to him that a woman could or would try to dominate him. Since the male characters are all Doc in disguise, I think the male character really CAN be this clueless, because I've seen Doc wrestle mightily with the idea of femdom and have great trouble wrapping his mind around it. If the character assumes that male-dom/female-sub is the default, the way of the world, the ordinary or normal way in which BDSM is done, then it could take a 2 x 4 upside the head to make him realize that she's a domme and that she's been working on him. I've been having some discussions with Doc, and a 2 x 4 is NOT overkill.

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That's about it, yeah.

I was actually afraid that I'd made Michael too dommy in the sex scene. Despite her invitation for him to masturbate, he's still the thrusting male, the show-off. He's still using her body for his own gratification. That's why I put in the stopping part. I wanted him under her power. That's also why the cum-puppet line is in there. I never considered the fact that it telegraphs the future. As a dom, he notices it about himself though. He notices it and he doesn't really mind.

I think Michael's fully aware of what's going on with Beth as it's occurring, and he's ready for it. He has nothing left to lose, so why shouldn't he let himself be topped? I think he's more aware of what's happening than she is. At least, that's the way I meant for it to be. (Did I make her too dommy?) (That's also why I want him semi-suicidal, so you get the idea of a man on the edge. That's why they're both suicidal. She's angry though, while he just doesn't give a fuck.)

What's going on with him is what I think Verdad was talking about. After wielding the whip himself, he wants to hurt for someone else.

Pure said:

IF she's gonna be subtle, why does she not *avoid* issuing orders re sex. why not suggestions? it's really not hard to get a horny guy to jerk off. ("gee, i'd like to see this" often works) there needn't be any orders.

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I suppose she could, but it wouldn't have the drama of her telling him. It ties in with your next point:

Pure said:

so doc, you have to make up your mind. is there going to be something subtle and plausible, or is it just her: "well, you're a dom, and i'm a bit of one too; we could have a 'stand off', but if not, *i* will do any topping, ok?... so take out your dick."

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The whole question of whether I'm writing porn or erotica here: titillation or examination. That's a good question and I don't know yet. I do know that I can't spend pages on setting them up in a realistic, non-sexual relationship before sparks fly because I'll lose my audience. It'll probably have to be the usual, a kind of comic book amalgam of crunched reality.

The plausibility is what I'm asking about here.

The idea is, that she's a latent domme who was seriously considering suicide. He saved her. Something in him brings out this sexual side in her, almost as if she were taking revenge.

Singularity said:

Overall, I think you are trying to pack too much into one scene. Leave him wanting her and wanting to earn her trust and her interest that first night, instead of taking it as far as you do. Let her sleep on the couch. Maybe in the still quiet of the next morning, it would work better. The pace and the emotional interplay justt seems a bit too forced, for me.

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I am, I am, and that's a big problem. I'm really afraid I'll lose reader interest if I drag this out into multiple days, though, and at night he's pressuring her to sleep with him, which provides motivation for her to make him beat off. What's going to be his motivation in the morning? Who puts the moves on a girl at 7 AM?

I like your suggestions for the cuts in dialog. They definitely help the flow.

The suicide thing could be clarified, I suppose. It'll be expanded on later in the story. It's more than just a girl. It's Michael's whole life. He's sorely depressed and unfocused, and that's why Jennifer left.

Hanging on the Edge

Leave them hanging on the edge, waiting. Whether it is in the same chapter, or a later one, is immaterial. If you don't have your readers on the emotional razor-edge of anticipation, you're letting them off too easily.

I'm working on Chapter 10 of a story where the woman who is read to surrendery her soul has yet to be taken by the man she'd give up her life for, and it's right for the characters and the story - and the readers who've made it this far understand why.

Letting him dream of her while she sleeps on the couch offers a great many possibilities. Will she still be there in the morning? What will he say to her in the cold, still light of day? How does one deal with a post-suicidal woman over coffee? You've got a maze full of opportunities to pursue, each of which is rich with potential for profanely delicious dialog.

Even if he doesn't attempt something sexual in the morning, you need to establish more of an emotional bond between them before the conjugal stuff and the D/s dimension can work. Let him take her out for a walk in the morning, across the Michigan Avenue bridge, in the sunlight, and through Millenium Park and to the lakefront or the Art Institute. Let the city in the light of day plant the seed of renewal and interest in each of them.

Send them to the Ando Gallery in the Art Institute and let them talk about its symbolism and what it feels like to stand there among the stark, black columns. And then send them back over the Clark Street bridge...


Sin.

"The Girl on the Bridge" - the movie

It's tangential to the topic. But I think the movie of the same name (Italian or French, with subtitles, as I recall) is one worth investing an evening in. Suicide averted is the theme.

Sin.

A little thought occurred to me.

How can Michael be sure Beth isn't a TV?

dr_mabeuse said:

A little thought occurred to me.

How can Michael be sure Beth isn't a TV?

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Yeah, that'd be one way to get out of writing femdom.

After wielding the whip himself, he wants to hurt for someone else.

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If he's thinking of committing suicide, he's already hurting plenty. Allowing Beth to hurt him gives him a reason, direction, and outlet for his pain. He's not suffering just because of existential angst, he's suffering because it makes Beth happy. Many people who are feeling great emotional pain hurt themselves physically, as a way of externalizing the pain; this is especially common among young women, who often cut themselves. Giving that into Beth's hands would work especially well, because it would mean (in his mind) that he's not fucked up enough to hurt himself, like a teenager who's just lost her boyfriend; no, he's just doing BDSM. But he still gets to externalize the emotional pain.

I think it's gonna be interesting, Doc.

note to corylea and doc

cory, i do agree with one observation of yours:

CThey're both experienced players,

I think, doc, that's the impression of several of us. If you want her to be not quite a dom, a little less directness of orders might help. also, perhaps indicate her surprise at her reactions (IOW he sees signs).


C If he's thinking of committing suicide, he's already hurting plenty. Allowing Beth to hurt him gives him a reason, direction, and outlet for his pain.

I don't agree with this approach, Cory. As i explained above, having him be a suicidal dom is already stretching it. I think he should perhpas be merely upset at the gf loss.

Doc, i think it would be a big mistake to make him too needy, and having her be therapist for his pain.

C:Many people who are feeling great emotional pain hurt themselves physically, as a way of externalizing the pain; this is especially common among young women, who often cut themselves. Giving that into Beth's hands would work especially well, because it would mean (in his mind) that he's not fucked up enough to hurt himself, like a teenager who's just lost her boyfriend; no, he's just doing BDSM. But he still gets to externalize the emotional pain


Pure: That approach creates the impression that that's what she looks for. Men in distress. Makes her look more predatory. I think he should be reasonably together if suffering some loss.

If you're looking at this _femme souveraine_ archetype, she scarcely needs to find a guy in great distress and assist his plumbing the bottom. The fun is if he's got a little backbone. Also, the story benefits if he's a bit surprised, as opposed, to 'ohhh this pain is good therapy for my loss.'. That said, there is the issue of reality. The 'subject' of this top is not ideal; there are flaws, hurts, certainly. Therefore, the argument (of Verdad) can be made: the female top, here, is amusing herself by exploiting his weakness, his taste for bottoming with an element of demeanment. This femme, then, deals with needs in sovereign fashion in a number of ways outside the therapeutic model.

Cory, we all have our 'takes' on this. It's a rorschach. I don't say your take is invalid, merely different. There's a patent discrepancy of doc's first post (his initial 'take') and the excerpt, around the subtlety of Beth's topping.

Pure, I didn't mean for this:

If he's thinking of committing suicide, he's already hurting plenty. Allowing Beth to hurt him gives him a reason, direction, and outlet for his pain. He's not suffering just because of existential angst, he's suffering because it makes Beth happy. Many people who are feeling great emotional pain hurt themselves physically, as a way of externalizing the pain; this is especially common among young women, who often cut themselves. Giving that into Beth's hands would work especially well, because it would mean (in his mind) that he's not fucked up enough to hurt himself, like a teenager who's just lost her boyfriend; no, he's just doing BDSM. But he still gets to externalize the emotional pain.

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to be Michael's conscious intention; I was intending it as psychological sub-text, a way for Doc to make bottoming more satisfying for Michael than M might have expected. I was thinking for his conscious thoughts to be along the line of feeling sort of relieved after bottoming, a reaction which should surprise him.

the new specifications

i thought i'd have a go at these. one can't escape the impression that they are no being molded by the story!. but if the characters have a life of their own, so much the better.

[doc ]I]She's more of a latent who's going to discover her predilection through her relationship with Michael. I picture her rather as a rich party girl who's been around a lot of kink but never really spread her own wings.[/I]

i wouldn't say this comes across. she's very sure about her instructions. if a party girl wants to amuse herself by demeaning a guy i think a few NON orders would be appropriate. the 'stop' seems like a pro move.


I think Michael's fully aware of what's going on with Beth as it's occurring, and he's ready for it. He has nothing left to lose, so why shouldn't he let himself be topped? I think he's more aware of what's happening than she is. At least, that's the way I meant for it to be. (Did I make her too dommy?) (That's also why I want him semi-suicidal, so you get the idea of a man on the edge. That's why they're both suicidal. She's angry though, while he just doesn't give a fuck.)

yes, that's the impression now given. he's NOT subtly being turned into a bottom, he's saying "she wants me on the bottom, so what the hell; hey this is kinda fun!"

i have looked at the first part [separate] again, and i see you are clear about his suicidal efforts. i think to some extent you are trapped in the first part.

maybe it's workable. it kind of Him: "YOU don't want to live, well listen to me, I REALLY don't want to live." (him being less so, is easier to believe.)

doc, i think the scene is unfolding nicely in and of itself. the specs are not highly relevant. i would say the basic objectives were accomplished. show some directiveness and strength on her part, and show him being aroused on the bottom.

as to the 'big idea', it's unclear whether it's:

1)two suicidal doms meet, and one finds he likes to bottom for the other.

2)a dom meets a suicidal party girl with 'leanings', and as they interact, she finds herself becoming a domme, and he finds it's hot on the bottom.

you can see the main diff. is in the development SHE undergoes. 2) suggests a lot. it's more work. possibly that's why 1) seems a better description of the main thrust, so far. i don't think 1) precludes the *reader* from becoming aware of her, in her fullness as an F, but it suggests she doesn't change within herself. iow what happens for her is not much of a surprise, while what happens to him, is.

you're off to a fine start, and the characters will tell you *their* specifications!

Verdad said:

Might we lure you in?

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At least the thread was less confusing than the musings!

Pure said:

IF she's gonna be subtle, why does she not *avoid* issuing orders re sex. why not suggestions? it's really not hard to get a horny guy to jerk off. ("gee, i'd like to see this" often works) there needn't be any orders.

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If subtlety is a goal, this is a great idea.

Zoot said:

I'm really afraid I'll lose reader interest if I drag this out into multiple days...

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Is this not true of any story that drags? I don't see any real issue with her sleeping on the couch the first night and maybe returning for the heart to heart later- if it's something like "When I awoke, she was gone. I never expected to see her again, but..." But just reading about the two of them hanging out, going for walks, romantic and otherwise, while gettting to know one another, yeah, that could be dull.

Zoot said:

What's going to be his motivation in the morning? Who puts the moves on a girl at 7 AM?

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And what's wrong with morning sex?!

I don't really believe either of them was that serious about jumping off the bridge. She pretty much says she was just there to convince herself she could and visiting the bridge seems like some kind ritual for him. He tells her that he was thinking of committing suicide. Thinking of it isn't quite the same as really intending to do it. Plus, he could be lying to her, not unlike when certain men learn a woman has an interest- suddenly it becomes their interest too. This has nothing to do with any notion that dominant characters can't even consider suicide. Such a limitation seems a little narrow to me.

Pure said:

...the 'stop' seems like a pro move.

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She appears experienced to me too. I never got the impression she was finding herself.

Pure said:

... the characters will tell you *their* specifications!

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So true. Seems like we all pretty much agreed his submission wasn't slow, or subtle. I think a big question is whether this is really an issue or just the story revealing itself.

Some things to catch up on for me. The F/m archetype thread certainly left me confused I must confess.

Lovely little scene though.

I wasn't sure on the girl's transition from bedraggled attempted suicidee to a domme. But while it jarred, there was a plausible line I could see, which I think also echoes the comments other people have made in that the girl seems more experienced rather than latent. At the start of the excerpt the girl is in a mess, her life is in a chaotic state and then she looks around and sees the BDSM paraphenalia around the apartment and then the domme side of her character starts to come out.

It made me think of games, why people play them and how their characters can be different in a game setting. Games are little models of existence with lots of the messy complexity of real life thrown out. At the start the girl seems overwhelmed by her life, but then finds herself in the 'game' setting and that brings out her domme side. She's gone from a large complicated situation that was overwhelming her to a much smaller scenario with rules she knows and is familiar with.

I don't know if that makes sense. That was kind of how I saw that change, but from the follow up posts I see that wasn't the initial intention.

I wasn't convinced on the man's dom-ness. He tells us he's a dom, but doesn't behave as such when interacting with the girl. He seems very eager to follow her instructions, but his is also clearly a character in transition.

I think i'm probably out on thin ice though. I've never quite had a handle on the D/s thing so my impressions might be off/hopelessly incorrect.

I did think I saw a more complicated relationship - something linked to class/status/money. She makes it clear she's wealthy and moves in higher circles and it did seem like that had an affect on the M, forcing him into a more s position by dint of status. So then he would be sort of like the butler ordering around the serving wench while deferring to the instructions of milady. That's probably the English in me though - we see class differences everywhere

Some observations anyway, hopefully not hopelessly off the mark.

manyeyedhydra said:

Some things to catch up on for me. The F/m archetype thread certainly left me confused I must confess.

Lovely little scene though.

I wasn't sure on the girl's transition from bedraggled attempted suicidee to a domme. But while it jarred, there was a plausible line I could see, which I think also echoes the comments other people have made in that the girl seems more experienced rather than latent. At the start of the excerpt the girl is in a mess, her life is in a chaotic state and then she looks around and sees the BDSM paraphenalia around the apartment and then the domme side of her character starts to come out.

It made me think of games, why people play them and how their characters can be different in a game setting. Games are little models of existence with lots of the messy complexity of real life thrown out. At the start the girl seems overwhelmed by her life, but then finds herself in the 'game' setting and that brings out her domme side. She's gone from a large complicated situation that was overwhelming her to a much smaller scenario with rules she knows and is familiar with.

I don't know if that makes sense. That was kind of how I saw that change, but from the follow up posts I see that wasn't the initial intention.

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That's a very nice point I hadn't considered. Quite honestly, the bridge scene was grafted on from another story. Well, it was the same story, but in that version the girl was a latent submissive who was going to offer her life to the male dom since he saved her. I decided to change the story to Femdom after the bridge scene was written, so I had to go back and change it to make Beth a latent domme, and maybe I didn't clean up all her subby traits. Or maybe her whole routine just isn't dome enough.

I wasn't convinced on the man's dom-ness. He tells us he's a dom, but doesn't behave as such when interacting with the girl. He seems very eager to follow her instructions, but his is also clearly a character in transition.

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Well, I didn't want to make him a cliche, walking around in jodphus and monocle with a riding crop in his hand. The fact is, doms and subs are pretty much like everyone else up to that certain point. But I agree he probably could have done something to show himself more assertive and dominant early on. It's something I'll work on.

I did think I saw a more complicated relationship - something linked to class/status/money. She makes it clear she's wealthy and moves in higher circles and it did seem like that had an affect on the M, forcing him into a more s position by dint of status. So then he would be sort of like the butler ordering around the serving wench while deferring to the instructions of milady. That's probably the English in me though - we see class differences everywhere

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No, I don't think you're seeing things. I think i reached for that instinctively by making her wealthy. I automatically played the Rich Bitch card without even thinking about it. It just seemed to fit.

Funny though, when I was thinking of her as a sub, I still had her as wealthy. I guess i just like that class tension too.

Some observations anyway, hopefully not hopelessly off the mark.

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No. Most helpful. Thanks much.