The Accident.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

Rachel had spent a quiet Sunday afternoon and evening with her friend, Gwen, who lived in town. At about 9 o'clock she made her excuses as she had a heavy work load the next day. She lived alone in a small cottage up in the hills about a half hour drive away and knew the road well as she commuted daily.

Whose trousers?

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

“Do you always wear girl's trousers?”

Happy Bunny!

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

My name is Barbara and I'm a happy bunny. After many years of uncertainty I seem to be on an even keel at last and know who I am.

Mirror image.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

I had had a shower, dried down and put on a pair of Y fronts. Then I glanced in the mirror and froze.....

What's in a name?

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

Ann, Barbara, Christine, Delia, … … … Xanthe, Yvonne, Zoe. I've been a closet cross dresser for many years and never bothered to adopt a femme name. But now I'm intending to come out and can't go out with boobs and a dress and still call myself Johnny. You would think choosing a name would be easy but I've been through the alphabet twice already and can't find one which I feel fits my new self.

The Ballet Dancer

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

This brief biography is based on a diary discovered in the archives of the Russian National Ballet.

Boris was born on 30th April 1958 in Moscow in Soviet Russia and even when very young, his parents took him to see the Bolshoi Ballet. It was not surprising, therefore, that he soon declared that when he grew up, he wanted to be a ballet dancer. He did well at school and later won himself a place in the prestigious Bolshoi Academy.

Half Way.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

Tomorrow will be my 40th birthday. I have a reasonable chance of surviving to see my 80th, so on that basis I am half way through my life. Tomorrow will also be a significant date for another reason. For the first half of my life, I have been male. For the second, I will be female so I have particular reason to celebrate.

Winter break. Part 1.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

I was due a few days holiday to be taken before the end of the year. It was already mid November and the nights had closed in. I did not want to fly off to foreign parts and the papers were full of adverts for short winter breaks. A city rather than a remote rural hotel made more sense and I chose Newcastle because I had never been there and it seemed to offer plenty to do and see even if the weather was wet and cold. I booked a good city centre hotel and decided to travel up by train.

Home leave.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

The envelope was addressed to Steve Smith, The Cottage, Combe Farm, in familiar writing and the post mark said "BFPO 952." Inside was a photograph of an attractive girl dressed in Army desert combat uniform. She wore a regimental beret, camouflage shirt with corporal's stripes, trousers and army boots. The picture was taken at an angle so that the outline of her breasts was clearly visible. Her hair was tied back and she had just a hint of makeup. Very obviously female. There was a short note:

Espionage!

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

A cold war spy plot that went wrong!

Boris was born in Kostroma, an industrial town on the banks of the Volga River, some distance north of Moscow. His father was Russian, a marine engineer, but his mother was English, so he was brought up to be bilingual. His father had been seconded to a British company involved in building a large oil exploration platform and had met and married his mother while there. As a very young lad, Boris had naturally wavy fair hair and was small for his age, so that he was sometimes mistaken for a girl.

Give me the keys!

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

Bev's face was like thunder and her voice hard. "Give me the keys." Tom stood before her in the bedroom like a frightened rabbit, clad only in a bra filled out with tissues and matching panties which scarcely covered his chastity belt. She held out her hand. "Give me the keys!" she said again.

"I can't," Tom stammered "they're in the car."

"Then get them." Adding "Go just as you are" as Tom reached for a dressing gown. "And no shoes, either!" as he bent down to put on some slippers.

Madame Norma.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

It is six months today that Madame finally took total control over me. Before that, I was a regular "client" of hers for several years.

Steps along the road.

A fantasy by Johnny Cumlately