I’m working on my first attempt at erotic fiction, actually any fiction. I have the story finished and have made some editorial passes through it myself. However, I know that it’s easy to read what I think I wrote rather than what I actually wrote, and I am hardly a grammarian to start with.
So; First of all, I’m looking for an editor to proof grammar and orthography. Beyond that, though, I am certainly open to input on the story telling, characters, structure, flow, style, etc. I have the complete story “done” but feel that there is quite a bit of room for improvement in the details.
Ideally, I would like to find an editor to work through the whole project. But I am willing to accept help for any of the parts individually. I am not in any hurry. In fact I am fine if an editor works in small pieces over several weeks as long as there is regular communication. I am not sensitive to criticism and want honest feedback.
Here are the details:
Part one is just over 10,000 words. The complete story is approaching 32,000 words.
Primary category is transsexuals & crossdressers. It also includes spanking, femdom, roleplay, strapon play.
Here is a brief synopsis.
Part one:
Professional with a secret panty fetish learns that two co-workers are transsexuals. He has an awkward exchange and panics when he thinks his buddies know he is turned on.
Back at work he is caught wearing panties by his female VP and becomes her "little girl."
Spanking and strapon sex ensue.
Part two:
At lunch with his VP, sees the two transsexuals and is turned on.
VP notices and confronts him. When he lies about it, she takes him back to work for discipline.
VP is working something up and brings her executive assistant in to continue spanking him.
Part three:
VP Brings the transsexual co-workers in to confront him.
Spanking, cocksucking, ass fucking, cum swallowing ensue.
Thought I would add the first chapter so you can see what my writing is like...
Lunch Special
“Hey! Look who’s here?”
Michael and Rick saw Peter jerk his head toward the front of the restaurant. Michael, who was sitting across the table from the other two, looked back over his shoulder. Two women were walking through the door: a striking and somehow familiar redhead was illustrating with her hands as she spoke, the other woman laughed and brushed shoulder length hair away from her face.
Cute, he thought.
The brunette looked around while they waited in the queue. She was plainer than her friend, softer and slightly shorter with an everyday kind of charm.
“That’s Kevin Neal,” said Peter.
Michael turned back to the table; “Who?”
“Kevin Neal, from legal.”
“Didn’t he handle the Blair law suit?” Rick asked.
“Yep!” Peter nodded smugly.
Michael tried to remember the last time he had seen Kevin; “I thought he left?”
“He did, like two and a half years ago; just came back last week.” Peter had the look of a professor lecturing students. It might have been irritating had the thought of Peter teaching anything not bordered on comically absurd.
Michael looked around searching for a remembered face; “Who are you talking about?”
“Kevin Neal. Pay attention!”
“I know that. Where is he?”
“Dude! Pull your head out; he’s the red head.”
Michael stared at Peter; “No way!” But even as he spoke he understood her familiarity and looked again with renewed interest.
She wore a highly tailored, camel, skirt suit and was idly tapping one of those blinking coasters against the thigh of her pencil skirt. She stood partially turned away, showing both the curve from waist to hip, and small of the back to beautifully formed butt. Her short jacket flared at the bottom flowing flawlessly into the skirt, which defined the merest shadow of cleavage.
While Michael took in this vista his mind raced ahead; “What was hidden under her skirt front?” Following hard was a second question; “Was her girl friend…”
“Dude! Stop staring.”
Michael turned back to Peter with a start; his seat seemed suddenly uncomfortable and he fidgeted as a blush began to rise. But Peter apparently didn’t notice and, when Rick asked a question, he returned to his tale.
“How’d you find out?”
“I heard Sara talking about it.”
Rick looked amazed; “She didn’t see you?”
Peter shook his head; “Her door was closed.”
“You listened through her door?”
Michael couldn’t decide if the look on Rick’s face was shock or awe.
“Hell no! Are you crazy? I’m in enough trouble already. No, it was when the white noise was screwed up last week. I guess they didn’t insulate Sara’s office or something when they remodeled, ‘cause when the white noise went off, I heard her talking about him coming back and everything. Oh, and get this; he goes by ‘Madailein’ now.” He made a show of gesturing quotes around the name.
They quieted as the hostess led the two women through the room. Madailein passed first: sinuous, sensual; long, auburn hair flashing; bronze, high heel pumps clicking; striding with assured authority.
Her friend followed allowing Michael a closer look. Her dress was navy blue with miscellaneous white circles styled to look as though they had been hand drawn with a brush. It was tied at the waist with a bow in the small of her back. The fabric tightened enticingly around her hips and a faint, panty line appeared and disappeared as her hips swayed.
Michael squirmed again and wondered whether an adjustment might be in order.
Madailein took the near seat and the brunette sat opposite, facing Michael. Soft brown eyes met his momentarily and Michael quickly shifted his gaze. There was a drink station situated in an alcove behind the women; he fixed his eyes on it and continued to watch the brunette peripherally.
Her breasts were nicely shaped, not large, but enough to make her dress snug across the chest. His thoughts were turning to imagined snugness in her panties when Madailein slid her chair back and stood.
“Earth to Michael!”
Michael’s attention snapped back to the table where Peter was watching him, wide eyed this time.
“Shit, dude! Are you gonna hit on them?”
Michael’s heart hammered.
“I’d like to see that,” Rick chimed in, cackling. “Come on baby,” he affected what he probably thought was a suave tone, but it came off like a bad Elvis impression; “le’ me see the Promised Land. Shit! Is that a dick?”
Rick struck a pose with his mouth hanging open in mock shock, Peter snorted tea and grabbed for a napkin.
“Get out of here!” Michael’s heart was in his throat now and sitting had become quite hard. Certain they had to be on to his arousal, and desperate to enforce the denial, he added, “That’s disgusting!”
Two things happened just then, almost simultaneously; truth be told, but it seemed like surreal slow motion: Abruptly aware that Madailein was passing, Michael looked up, fearing she might have heard, but her head was already turning. Her eyes fastened on his: beautiful, deep-green emeralds glittering in a salient setting, cold and furious!
She did not speak; her disdain needed no words. She held his gaze and passed in silence, as though commanding him not to look away. And though his mind screamed to do just that, his eyes would not. She was not finished with him. His heart sank for an eternity until her eyes dismissed him and her exquisite backside vanished toward the restrooms.
Thank you in advance!
So; First of all, I’m looking for an editor to proof grammar and orthography. Beyond that, though, I am certainly open to input on the story telling, characters, structure, flow, style, etc. I have the complete story “done” but feel that there is quite a bit of room for improvement in the details.
Ideally, I would like to find an editor to work through the whole project. But I am willing to accept help for any of the parts individually. I am not in any hurry. In fact I am fine if an editor works in small pieces over several weeks as long as there is regular communication. I am not sensitive to criticism and want honest feedback.
Here are the details:
Part one is just over 10,000 words. The complete story is approaching 32,000 words.
Primary category is transsexuals & crossdressers. It also includes spanking, femdom, roleplay, strapon play.
Here is a brief synopsis.
Part one:
Professional with a secret panty fetish learns that two co-workers are transsexuals. He has an awkward exchange and panics when he thinks his buddies know he is turned on.
Back at work he is caught wearing panties by his female VP and becomes her "little girl."
Spanking and strapon sex ensue.
Part two:
At lunch with his VP, sees the two transsexuals and is turned on.
VP notices and confronts him. When he lies about it, she takes him back to work for discipline.
VP is working something up and brings her executive assistant in to continue spanking him.
Part three:
VP Brings the transsexual co-workers in to confront him.
Spanking, cocksucking, ass fucking, cum swallowing ensue.
Thought I would add the first chapter so you can see what my writing is like...
Lunch Special
“Hey! Look who’s here?”
Michael and Rick saw Peter jerk his head toward the front of the restaurant. Michael, who was sitting across the table from the other two, looked back over his shoulder. Two women were walking through the door: a striking and somehow familiar redhead was illustrating with her hands as she spoke, the other woman laughed and brushed shoulder length hair away from her face.
Cute, he thought.
The brunette looked around while they waited in the queue. She was plainer than her friend, softer and slightly shorter with an everyday kind of charm.
“That’s Kevin Neal,” said Peter.
Michael turned back to the table; “Who?”
“Kevin Neal, from legal.”
“Didn’t he handle the Blair law suit?” Rick asked.
“Yep!” Peter nodded smugly.
Michael tried to remember the last time he had seen Kevin; “I thought he left?”
“He did, like two and a half years ago; just came back last week.” Peter had the look of a professor lecturing students. It might have been irritating had the thought of Peter teaching anything not bordered on comically absurd.
Michael looked around searching for a remembered face; “Who are you talking about?”
“Kevin Neal. Pay attention!”
“I know that. Where is he?”
“Dude! Pull your head out; he’s the red head.”
Michael stared at Peter; “No way!” But even as he spoke he understood her familiarity and looked again with renewed interest.
She wore a highly tailored, camel, skirt suit and was idly tapping one of those blinking coasters against the thigh of her pencil skirt. She stood partially turned away, showing both the curve from waist to hip, and small of the back to beautifully formed butt. Her short jacket flared at the bottom flowing flawlessly into the skirt, which defined the merest shadow of cleavage.
While Michael took in this vista his mind raced ahead; “What was hidden under her skirt front?” Following hard was a second question; “Was her girl friend…”
“Dude! Stop staring.”
Michael turned back to Peter with a start; his seat seemed suddenly uncomfortable and he fidgeted as a blush began to rise. But Peter apparently didn’t notice and, when Rick asked a question, he returned to his tale.
“How’d you find out?”
“I heard Sara talking about it.”
Rick looked amazed; “She didn’t see you?”
Peter shook his head; “Her door was closed.”
“You listened through her door?”
Michael couldn’t decide if the look on Rick’s face was shock or awe.
“Hell no! Are you crazy? I’m in enough trouble already. No, it was when the white noise was screwed up last week. I guess they didn’t insulate Sara’s office or something when they remodeled, ‘cause when the white noise went off, I heard her talking about him coming back and everything. Oh, and get this; he goes by ‘Madailein’ now.” He made a show of gesturing quotes around the name.
They quieted as the hostess led the two women through the room. Madailein passed first: sinuous, sensual; long, auburn hair flashing; bronze, high heel pumps clicking; striding with assured authority.
Her friend followed allowing Michael a closer look. Her dress was navy blue with miscellaneous white circles styled to look as though they had been hand drawn with a brush. It was tied at the waist with a bow in the small of her back. The fabric tightened enticingly around her hips and a faint, panty line appeared and disappeared as her hips swayed.
Michael squirmed again and wondered whether an adjustment might be in order.
Madailein took the near seat and the brunette sat opposite, facing Michael. Soft brown eyes met his momentarily and Michael quickly shifted his gaze. There was a drink station situated in an alcove behind the women; he fixed his eyes on it and continued to watch the brunette peripherally.
Her breasts were nicely shaped, not large, but enough to make her dress snug across the chest. His thoughts were turning to imagined snugness in her panties when Madailein slid her chair back and stood.
“Earth to Michael!”
Michael’s attention snapped back to the table where Peter was watching him, wide eyed this time.
“Shit, dude! Are you gonna hit on them?”
Michael’s heart hammered.
“I’d like to see that,” Rick chimed in, cackling. “Come on baby,” he affected what he probably thought was a suave tone, but it came off like a bad Elvis impression; “le’ me see the Promised Land. Shit! Is that a dick?”
Rick struck a pose with his mouth hanging open in mock shock, Peter snorted tea and grabbed for a napkin.
“Get out of here!” Michael’s heart was in his throat now and sitting had become quite hard. Certain they had to be on to his arousal, and desperate to enforce the denial, he added, “That’s disgusting!”
Two things happened just then, almost simultaneously; truth be told, but it seemed like surreal slow motion: Abruptly aware that Madailein was passing, Michael looked up, fearing she might have heard, but her head was already turning. Her eyes fastened on his: beautiful, deep-green emeralds glittering in a salient setting, cold and furious!
She did not speak; her disdain needed no words. She held his gaze and passed in silence, as though commanding him not to look away. And though his mind screamed to do just that, his eyes would not. She was not finished with him. His heart sank for an eternity until her eyes dismissed him and her exquisite backside vanished toward the restrooms.
Thank you in advance!
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