MisterWindDong
CEO of Futa Growth
- Joined
- Apr 26, 2025
- Posts
- 23
I can't sleep, my body aches, and nothing is scratching the itch. After years of internal debate, the stars have aligned: I'm going to write my own smut.
For the next 10 hours, I'm consumed in horny-induced writing frenzy.
As the haze lifts, consciousness returning, I bear witness: a 6.5k word fetish-laden masterpiece lies before me. I create my account, (since I of course hadn't thought that far ahead) realize I have to wait to be admitted, and, with no other recourse, finally go to bed.
I wake up 12 hours later to the alert of my account being accepted. I hastily submit my work, before realizing there's *another* period of waiting; the work must be manually reviewed. I sigh, and go about my life.
In only 12 short hours, the work is reviewed, accepted, and set to publish at midnight, much to my pleasant surprise.
As the day turns, early views hitting, I sit down to enjoy the work in its shiny new published format.
I'm horrified.
My work is on life-support. It is positively BURSTING at the seams with amateur writing mistakes. Tense slop at every turn. Jarring pacing interrupting flows. Meaningless repetition. The only thing keeping it from flatlining is its powerful core, and strong understanding of the fetish. I grab my keyboard, furious at past me, who allowed this travesty to occur. You fucking idiot.
Another 7 hours pass as I perform a triple-bypass open heart surgery, touching almost every single paragraph of the work, correcting the sins of my past. Slowly but surely, I dissect and reconstruct my piece, and finally... it is done. Despite everything, the story is able to stand on it's own legs. A single tear runs down my eye as I resubmit the now 8k edit, knowing I've saved a life today.
That was three days ago.
Views and ratings continue to pour in own my original piece, ignorant that it's true beauty lies in Pending Prison. I refresh the page every hour, but its always the same. Pending. Pending. Always Pending.
Friends, I may not make it. I feel my life ebbing with every f5. I just want you all to know, as my consciousness fades: I love you all.
(Also, before you say it, I know 3 days is a perfectly normal amount of time for a work to be pending. This post is just a light-hearted outlet for me to be a big baby and vent my frustration that I can't have everything I want as soon as I want it. Feel free to join in and do the same, and we can all wail and bemoan at life's great injustices.)
For the next 10 hours, I'm consumed in horny-induced writing frenzy.
As the haze lifts, consciousness returning, I bear witness: a 6.5k word fetish-laden masterpiece lies before me. I create my account, (since I of course hadn't thought that far ahead) realize I have to wait to be admitted, and, with no other recourse, finally go to bed.
I wake up 12 hours later to the alert of my account being accepted. I hastily submit my work, before realizing there's *another* period of waiting; the work must be manually reviewed. I sigh, and go about my life.
In only 12 short hours, the work is reviewed, accepted, and set to publish at midnight, much to my pleasant surprise.
As the day turns, early views hitting, I sit down to enjoy the work in its shiny new published format.
I'm horrified.
My work is on life-support. It is positively BURSTING at the seams with amateur writing mistakes. Tense slop at every turn. Jarring pacing interrupting flows. Meaningless repetition. The only thing keeping it from flatlining is its powerful core, and strong understanding of the fetish. I grab my keyboard, furious at past me, who allowed this travesty to occur. You fucking idiot.
Another 7 hours pass as I perform a triple-bypass open heart surgery, touching almost every single paragraph of the work, correcting the sins of my past. Slowly but surely, I dissect and reconstruct my piece, and finally... it is done. Despite everything, the story is able to stand on it's own legs. A single tear runs down my eye as I resubmit the now 8k edit, knowing I've saved a life today.
That was three days ago.
Views and ratings continue to pour in own my original piece, ignorant that it's true beauty lies in Pending Prison. I refresh the page every hour, but its always the same. Pending. Pending. Always Pending.
Friends, I may not make it. I feel my life ebbing with every f5. I just want you all to know, as my consciousness fades: I love you all.
(Also, before you say it, I know 3 days is a perfectly normal amount of time for a work to be pending. This post is just a light-hearted outlet for me to be a big baby and vent my frustration that I can't have everything I want as soon as I want it. Feel free to join in and do the same, and we can all wail and bemoan at life's great injustices.)