Hi Ophelia Fey,

Formatting for the written word to be printed in a book, is very different than formatting for web readers.

Instead of a tab or 5 spaces, a new parapraph with an blank line before are used, as in your second attempt.

If you are ever submitting anything to be published, and your are using a program like word, make sure to actually use the tab key, not the 5 spaces. People formatting your story will appreciate the ability to quickly find and replace as needed.

There is much discussion about dialog and it's use. Some publishers request that each line of dialog start a new paragraph. Others have different rules.

Also, the length of paragraphs is important as readers screen may be smaller. Think in bite sized bits versus overly large chunks.

Here's a sample of formatting and I've tossed in some punctual / grammar suggestions, too.

Spelling is not my thing, so unless I pull this into a Word document and really look at it - which isn't going to happen right now - we'll focus on the other items.

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"I do not have PMS. I'm pissed because you're an asshole."

Connie slapped the palm of her hand on the table and glared at Samuel. Six feet tall, muscled but not overly buff, with long black bangs that fell over his eyes and a lovely cock and sack that just begged to be tortured, Connie had been seeing Samuel for a little over 3 months. This was the first time he’d slipped.

He’d been a perfect little subbie boy, accepting every tirade of insults, withstanding every lick of the strap, groaning with pleasure every time she stepped on him and dug in with the heel of her stiletto. They had talked for hours. She'd heard his fantasies, his limits and his story.

(Note, I am not a fan of semicolons. While they may be used accruately, they tend to affect thestory pacing. Sometimes using shorter sentences will do. Especially, after the long sentence uses before this.)

She’d laid out the rules of behavior: he was never to touch her without invitation, he would strip bare in the tiny room off the foyer before entering her home and he would submit to her, catering to her every whim within the boundaries.

“It’s apparent we have a serious respect problem, when your mouth opens and that sort of shit falls from it.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Samuel mumbled. “This worthless asshole was only concerned for your health, and forgot its place for a moment.”

(Yes comma Mistress. Mistress would be capped only if this were her name. In this story, since it is the name he calls her, it is used correctly.)

“Exactly, and I’m going to make you seriously regret your forgetfulness.”

She looked at him and felt a tendril of desire brush her neck. She resisted the urge to drag him into the bedroom and fuck him silly.

“Get your worthless ass downstairs right now, and light the candles.”

Samuel crawled down the stairs to the basement, cold linoleum and rough cement floor chilled his hands and knees. The dungeon door was open, and Samuel went in, feeling ahead with one hand, so not to run into anything. The candles were in the small cupboard at the far end of the room.

Where were the matches? He felt along the shelf, brushing blindly against rubber and leather, until his fingers found the box. The burst of match head light showed a dozen fat red candles, a black rubber fist dildo and several leather straps with buckles and rings.

Samuel grabbed at a candle as the match guttered out. He could hear her footsteps on the basement stairs, and quickly lit another match, then touched it to the candlewick. The blackness turned to gloom and then to glowing candlelight as he lit the rest of the candles, lining them up in their holders.

Connie strode into the dungeon, looking like a sub’s wettest nightmare. Golden blonde waves brushed her bare shoulders. She had a beautiful dangerous face graced with dark eyes and ruby lips. Her nipped waist and cleavage cradled in a black leather corset. She also wore satin undies. Her legs were wrapped in diaphanous silk and feet encased in red patent stilettos with a metal heel that gleamed evilly. She sat on her throne and extended her foot.

Samuel bent forward, from his kneeling position, to kiss the very toe of those cruel shoes. As he did, Connie pushed the tip into his mouth and said, "Suck my shoe well, unless you want it in your ass dry.”

Samuel slicked the leather with saliva, and felt his cock twitch with anticipation.

“Turn around and spread those little boy cheeks.”

Connie pushed the toe of her shoe at his asshole, pressing in until she heard the tiniest of gasps.

“Now, repeat after me. I do not have PMS. I’m pissed because you’re an asshole.”

“Yes, Mistress. I do not...”

The lash across his back came from nowhere, stinging.

“Yes, Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS.”

The lash came again, curling around his side.

“Yes, Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed.”

And again the lash fell. Samuel gritted his teeth and started anew.

“Yes, Mistress. Mistress does not have PMS. Mistress is pissed because this worthless slave is an asshole.”

Connie jabbed the toe of the stiletto into his flesh.

“Well done. You remembered that you’re an asshole.”

She eased her foot away.

“Now clean my filthy shoe. It’s been in a very dirty asshole.”

Samuel’s cock bobbed and swayed as he licked and sucked at her shoe, with his eyes closed. Connie watched his meat drool a single shiny drop of precum, and licked her lips. She allowed another moment of sucking, and then pulled her foot from his face.

“Enough,” she spat. “I see that nasty cock is hard. You know what that means.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Samuel crawled to the bench. Hewormed his way onto it, winding up flat on his back, arms and legs spread out before awaiting

(Or you can start a new senence with He awaited ...)

the cuffs she would buckle tightly around his limbs. As she strapped him down, she stroked and brushed against his jutting cock, watching it color deeper and deeper, his balls tightening with each touch.

She pulled the blindfold off the hook on the wall, and whispered, “Raise your head.”

Connie pushed his bangs back from his forehead, and buckled it, then pushed his head gently back on the bench. She was certain he could smell her. Her cunt felt like it was steaming.

She slowly picked up the duct tape, and pulled a piece from the roll, then pushed his throbbing cock down, towards his belly, and taped it in place. A low moan escaped Samuel’s lips.

“No, no, no. No come until I say so.”

“Yes, Mistress," Samuel grunted through gritted teeth. Connie stepped towards the row of candles, each with their pool of liquid wax, waiting to be applied, and then stopped.

She quickly moved out of her dungeon into the dim basement. She flicked the switch on the freezer icemaker from cube to crushed ice, pressed the lever and filled her hands. She carried it into the dungeon, and laid it in a shallow bowl.

“Ready, Samuel?” Connie asked.

“Uhhhhh-huh, uh, I mean, Yes, um, Mistress”.

The elk hide flogger was one of her favorites, and she brought it down hard, across his thighs, back and forth repeatedly. It rapidly colored the flesh, making his groin jump with every stroke.

She threw it on the floor and grabbed a candle and a handful of the ice. The wax dribbled across the head of his cock as she wrapped the handful of crushed ice around his balls.

More wax, more ice, his head shook frantically to and fro, with his cock pulling the tape loose from his skin. Connie poured thin streams of fire over ice covered nipples, and made runners of wax over both thighs, and covered his straining cock in waxy droplets.

Taking up the flogger, she beat him from the shoulders down to something. Beads of wax and water flew. Samuel grunted as each blow landed, and Connie lashed him harder.

The duct tape let go. As his cock sprang away from his stomach, Connie landed her final stroke, on that tender cock head skin, made even more sensitive by wax, and he could hold back no longer.

Samuel’s whole body jerked as come boiled out of his cock. She waited a moment, doing or felling something. Descriptive word with an -ly, Connie unbuckled the blindfold, and stroked the hair back from his eyes.

She spoke softly, “You know what this means, don’t you, Samuel?”

“That this worthless asshole is in disgrace?” he replied slowly.

“No, indeed,” Connie said gravely. “ It means that we’ll just have to wait for a few minutes and let you recover. I’ve been having terrible cramps all day, and I think a good long fuck will be far more effective than a Midol.”

(C) 2007 Ophelia Fey All rights reserved.

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I'd like everyone to please get in the habit of protecting their works with blatent copyrighting on the forums. If it's a work in progress. You can say that.

(C) 2007 Ophelia Fey - Draft in progress. All rights reserved.

Now about this delightfully wicked tale, I loved the punchline. This story cracked me up. Cranky Mistress pummels submissive. Submissive enjoys the outcome, and yet, is not sure of the end result. When she breaks it to him, it made me smile all over.

It's nice to see past and active tenses used.

The long sentences need to be broken up or not. Pacing can be tricky and the goal is to think about how you want your reader to feel. Long sentences, tend to lull the reader. Shorter, punchier sentences, help pick up the heart rate.

Keep up the great work,

Ruby