The horrible torture of the story writer.

The woman was thirty five when her torture began. After years of reading and enjoying stories on her favorite website, she decided that she would write a story. Night after night she slaved upon her work. During the day her mind was constantly working on her story even while engaged in other activities.

She would often rewrite entire passages in her head hoping that every change would increase the impact of her story, her mind always on the unseen multitudes who she imagined might one day enjoy her work.

“One day,” she sometimes fantasized in her head, “my stories will be enjoyed by people who think like me. My readers.”

And so she kept to her task, writing, rewriting, editing and checking.

“It has to be just right” reasoned the woman, “just right.”

After about two weeks she decided that her story was ready. She had thought of little else as the task of getting her fantasy from her head onto paper had consumed her thoughts.

Her little baby of a story was about to make its debut and she was very excited.

She had read enough stories to know that people have different kinks, different tastes and not everyone would love her stories. Her expectations she felt were reasonable, “someone will really like it” the immature young woman thought, “someone will.”

She was quite sure it would not appeal to those who were inspired by violent torture, death and assorted other forms of horrible violence. Her stories were more pedestrian in their nature and relied upon more traditional scenes of punishment, blackmail and forced sexual servitude. There would be no rape, incest and “snuff” in her stories, but they would be great.

She knew that she had it just right, she knew that many readers would follow her stories with great interest and expectation. She was very confident that more than one person might even relieve some sexual tension while reading the story she had so carefully crafted.

She smiled.

With great expectation she finally logged on to the BDSM website and submitted her story, making sure to select all the boxes necessary so that “her readers” could find the story she had written for them. She took a big breath and hit “submit.”

And that is when the torture really began.

Her story was up on the website about 6 days later. She was thrilled to see her  name listed alongside the story that she had worked so hard at creating.

It was a thrilling thought to think that at this very moment someone she did not know was actually reading her story, following along the path that she had so carefully constructed for their pleasure

“It has been read 798 times!!!” it seemed so unreal to the woman.

She hit refresh on her computer, “811 readers” it now said. The woman smiled.

She then raced to her email, surely her readers had sent her messages, surely someone had sent an email to tell her they enjoyed the work. Certainly my readers have found me, the woman reasoned.

No messages.

The next morning, 2,500 readers. Five days later 7,000 readers. They seemed to be reading her story with great interest and yet her inbox remained empty and she remained totally unfulfilled.

It tortured her greatly but the next day it got worse, much worse.

As she arose and walked slowly from her bedroom to her computer room she had given up all hope of ever communicating with any of the readers that she had so tried to please with her writing. The joy had long been lost for her.

She now recognized that this is a one way relationship where the writers write and the readers read. Any hope of feedback to her on her story now was lost.

“Why doesn’t anyone comment?”

As her new messages emerged into view her eyes brightened. She had two notifications that someone had reviewed her story. He mood rose high as she raced through the links to read her reviews.

The torture was about to reach its climax.

She had two reviews both from reviewers whom she had seen review many stories on the website previously.

As she read the biting words of criticism she could not really at first believe them. The words struck her with the impact of a branding iron.

“Why would they say that,? “Why???”

And thus ended the short career of the woman with a dream to share her stories on the website she so once enjoyed. The entire experience served only to bring her discomfort and pain.

It was a torture greater than any she could have previously conceived.

I leave this website so you can enjoy all the great work of, Dryhill, Michael247, wistan, tjlewis132, JimmyJump, Major Littman, Azrig17, Snark and all the other story reviewers. May they continue to entertain you.

I expect that one of them will rename this story “the torture of the horrible story writer” and if they were to conceive of such a thought it would be the most entertaining thing they have ever said on the website.

So I wanted to beat them to the punch. Good day gentlemen. It belongs to your brilliance.