Stories In Perspective

Hi. I’m Lucy.

Sorry, did you want something?

Oh. Yeah. Right. I’m 16, four foot four, brown hair, hazel eyes, slim, last seen wearing jeans and a pink blouse. Do not approach, £10 reward.
Only joking. Seriously, though, don’t you ever find that annoying? The way that people think you need to know every single detail of a character’s appearance, down to the colour of their underwear?… No, I’m not telling you. No way.
Anyway. Getting distracted again. Goddamn it, Lucy! Keep it together. They’ll take away my First Person Narrative Licence if I’m not careful. Then I’ll end up as some background character with three lines of description and twenty seconds of speech…
Look, it’s pink, ok?
Yeah. Ok. Right. Where was I? Oh, no, don’t tell me, I know. Description. Ok, I can probably best describe myself by telling you that I’m a member of the Pony Club. Yep, I’m a horse person. So shoot me. I’m also sporty, arty and poetic in nature.
Phew. Glad that’s over with. Maybe now we can finally get started. See you on the other side!

--------------------------------------------------------I hurried across Central Plaza, checking the elegant watch which had been adorning the wrist of Queen Alexandria, who I had just been playing in a first edition copy of Queens In History. Which is where I wish they’d stay, to be honest- Queen Elizabeth the First had spent the last half hour boring me senseless, while I should have been rushing through Non-Fiction en route to Sexual Central to keep the appointment which I was now late for. Brilliant start to the week.

Dashing through the elegant glass doors of Sexual Administration (now there’s a contradiction), I almost ran up to the high reception desk and leaned on the bell. Within a few seconds, I was subject to the disapproving stare of a CIW, or Character-In-Waiting. This one happened to be female, and, due to the section she was working in, also happened to be naked. Which wasn’t helping the concentration of the hot, incredibly fit… Whoa Lucy, snap out of it! The… MAN who was slowly sweeping the polished marble floor. Anyway- RAMBLING AGAIN!

“Do you have an appointment?” asked the CIW, who sounded around eighty-seven, despite having the body of a twenty year old.
“Yes” I gasped, still breathless after my run- and being knocked dead by the hot- I mean, the cleaner. “I’m here to see Mr Masters.”

The CIW nodded, and tapped rapidly on her computer keyboard with her ludicrously long nails. “He will see you straight away, Miss Young.” she announced. I smirked at her disgruntled expression, and walked off briskly towards the lifts. Which meant that I then looked a complete idiot when I had to go back and ask for directions.

Eventually, I reached the imposing door marked ‘MASTERS, J.’ Panting with exertion, I leaned against the door briefly, then managed to summon the strength to give a would-be-confident rap on the dark mahogany.
“Come!” Called an imposing voice from within. I smiled briefly at the innuendo, then sharply told myself to grow up. I opened the door and strode in, attempting (probably unsuccessfully) to exude an air of confidence and authority. Closing the door behind me, I turned and faced the Director of Sexual and Fetish Fiction, using the mirror behind him to reassure myself that everything was buttoned or unbuttoned as it should be and pointing in the right direction.
“Ah, Miss Young” the husky voice murmured. “I believe you wish to apply for a vacancy?”
“Yes, sir. Reference 2755/DRT65”
“I see. Do you have experience in First-Person Fetish?”
“No, sir”
“I see.” The words were invested with a sense of finality, a suggestion of permanence. “Then may I enquire what on earth makes you think that I would consider hiring an expert in Classics and Non-Fiction for a highly demanding role in one of our most popular sections?”
I swallowed. It was now or never. Here goes…
“Because frankly sir, I know damn well that you’re desperate.”
The eyebrows rose. The pencil stopped tapping on the desk. The eyes scrutinised me from head to toe. I made sure he got the full benefit of my clothes, hair and everything. Especially the everything. Finally, Masters leaned back in his chair.
“Ok Miss Young, I admit it. We’re stuck. This is…shall we say, a particularly specialised fetish fiction. If we don’t find someone to fill the role, the character will flop. The story will fail, sex stories as a genre will lose popularity, levels of sexuality in other genres will fall and we’ll have a worldwide crisis on our hands. You’re right. You have a First Person licence, you can handle the narrative and the dialogue, you’re in. Report to Production Block 54A, first thing tomorrow. And send your measurements to Costuming.”
“Very well, sir. Thankyou.”
And I left his office, left the building, went home and slept.

**********************************SHUTTING DOWN ALL SYSTEMS
********************************** Heavy going, huh? I know, I know, I missed the refresher course on not over-describing. And then the one on not under-describing. Still, I reckon I’ve done ok.
I bet you all want to know what the hell’s going on, huh? Allow me to refer you to chapter 4 of the ‘Parallel Dimension Guide’

There exists a dimension which is solely concerned with ‘producing’ the events of a book, rather as Hollywood produces films. It’s extremely difficult to explain, so I’m not going to bother.

I hope you’re all enjoying it! Guess I’ll see you next time.
Lots of love
Lucy xx

Re: Stories In Perspective

Of all the gimmicks/devices/narrative tools, fourth wall breaking is probably one of the least used ones I’ve seen. I’m very interested in where you take this and how far you can take this. Consider me interested.

The length and actual substance might be an issue later down the line and this is the problem when responding to a story in its infancy because obviously there’s very little to comment on but I guess comparing it to a few other first chapters, I can kinda see a few things… It’s difficult to say because if I point something out, you probably already know what’s going to happen so for now I say good luck and good start.

Re: Stories In Perspective

I enjoy the plot device and your diction, and am interested in what’s to happen next. She seems interesting, but why is she 16 and yet a master in Classsics? Like, is she an avatar, and actually much more mature? Although a 16 year old 4’4" is an apt pupil for an abdl story, it’s hard for me to imagine she is old enough to be an expert in such things. I like that she is not experienced in fetishes – I think that someone on this forum noted that the fantasy is only pleasing if the character is at least partially unwilling.

Good luck.

Re: Stories In Perspective

Sorry GuybrushT, I think perhaps my plot device is confusing you. She’s a character in a parallel universe where every time we read a book, the story is acted out by the people in this dimension. Therefore, although her character is 16, she could be any age at all- her character has been written as being 16, but the ‘actor’ could be any age at all. When she says she’s an expert in classics, she means that she specialises in appearing in classic novels, not that she has a degree in the classics (which I believe is what you thought?)

Re: Stories In Perspective

You haven’t read the webcomic YU+ME: Dream by any chance have you?

Re: Stories In Perspective

Indeed, the vast majority of Hollywood actors who play “teenagers” on screen (both TV and movies) are 18-22.

Re: Stories In Perspective

No, I haven’t. My concept came from an author named Jasper Fforde, actually.

Re: Stories In Perspective

Oh, it’s you again. Back so soon? It’s flattering. Really. You just couldn’t wait to spend more time with me, huh?
Only joking. No one ever wants to spend time with me. Especially not these days. Being seen with me does your reputation about as much good as walking through the shopping centre stark naked. Butt I’m getting distracted (pun intended)
Right, ok, let’s go. Chapter 2, coming right up.


The next morning found me dashing through the Edgy Fiction tube station in search of a cab. I had woken up at 4 am so that I would be on time. After leaving my flat in Crime Fiction, I had missed three trains, got lost eighteen times, asked for directions four times and had finally reached the station at 6:01. Meaning that I was already late, which was not the impression I wanted to make on my first day.
I finally dashed into the studio at 6:06 exactly, and went straight over to Costume. There, I met the wardrobe mistress, who gave me a disapproving stare which made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
“You’re here then” she stated flatly.
I gave her a winning smile. “So the evidence would seem to suggest” I agreed.
“You’re late”
My winning smile had failed to win. And she was still stating the obvious. So, we were off to a good start.
The woman put a hand to her grey hair, which looked as though it might have been made from steel wool, a possibility which I decided to muse on later.
“Well” she sighed. “I suppose you’d better get into costume. Strip off.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard” snapped the Iron Lady. “Strip off”
“But…” I began.
“There are plenty of other second-rate characters looking for work, you know” she said.
That was a low blow, and it stung, but I couldn’t show it. I took a deep breath, then unbuttoned my skirt, allowed it to fall to the floor and stepped out of it. Then I unbuttoned my blouse and laid it on top of the skirt, before turning to face the woman.
“Happy?” I enquired.
She glanced up from a clipboard, rolled her eyes and said “Underwear too!”
“What does it matter what underwear I wear?” I objected.
She smirked slightly, and said “You haven’t read the small print, have you?” I shook my head. “Just get undressed, I’ll explain in a second” she instructed enigmatically.
Blushing slightly, I obliged and looked at her over my shoulder. “Can I have some clothes, please?”
“Lie down on that bench” replied the woman who I was rapidly coming to regard as a complete lunatic. I obliged, covering myself with my hands, but she forced both arms down to my sides, then, to my complete astonishment, proceeded to put a nappy on me.
“Hey, hey, what are you doing?!” I shouted.
“That’s your costume” the woman informed me, before walking off.
“Is this all?” I shouted after her.
“Yes, that’s it” came the reply, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a giggle as she went into her office.
“Bitch” I grumbled to myself. However, complaining would get me nowhere, and it certainly wouldn’t get me paid, so I gritted my teeth and strode out onto the set. There, I found the rest of the cast standing around drinking coffee and chatting.
Suddenly, they noticed that I was there, and a hush fell over the group, broken only by a stifled giggle. I sighed, and told myself to ignore it.
“Morning everyone, I’m Lucy” I began, but was cut off halfway through by a girl who looked about my age, who had a strong Texas accent.
“Oh, great” she complained. “Another Brit”
I glared at her sharply, then continued “As I was saying… I’m Lucy, I’m the main character for this story. So, let’s get the ball rolling; firstly, no shoes to be worn in the backstory, no pets on set, yada yada yada, I’m sure you know the drill. Secondly… Will someone please tell me why the hell I’m wearing a nappy?”
This remark released a wave of laughter, which echoed around the room briefly, before dying out to be replaced by an awkward silence as they saw I wasn’t smiling. Eventually, one of the make-up technicians tossed me a dog-eared copy of the synopsis, which I scanned rapidly.
This story, coming from a fetish commonly referred to as ABDL [see reference file 34-A] deals with a parallel universe in which all females wear nappies [US: Diapers] up until the age of 18, and are commonly changed by their families and friends. The plot…
But at this point I stopped reading, and stared blankly into space. Oh God, Lucy. What have you got yourself into?

**********************************SHUTTING DOWN ALL SYSTEMS

And that’s where I’m going to leave you. On a cliffhanger. Ha, ha, ha. That’s one of the bonuses of being the narrator… But I’m rambling. Again. God, get it together Lucy…
Ok. Ok. Right…
Yeah. Look, I’d love to stay and chat, really, I would. But I’ve got a reservation at the Good Food Guide. Not the sort of appointment you want to miss. See you!
Lucy xx

Re: Stories In Perspective

I don’t know if I’m suppose to talk to the character seeing as the 4th wall is being broken, but here we go:

I had to check again and saw indeed that your a female, so I found an indirect blush sweep across my face; sorry about that. The only problem I saw when covering yourself was that everyone would probably still be able to see your butt unless you kept your legs close; something else would be seen anyway if I think about it correctly. Anyway, being onset in one’s birthday suit must be bad, but I wouldn’t know since I never was in that instance; I feel bad for you.