There is a saying. Everyone has a twin somewhere in the world.

Like most people I laughed my butt off when I first heard it. Sure there is lots of "proof" of that being a real thing. I just never once thought I would meet someone anywhere like me.

I had no idea how convoluted the family court system was. Even though Chuck told me every time I had to come into his office to sign a paper and, of course, write him a check. I went to therapy sessions, my wife went to therapy sessions too and if I had down a quarter of the things she accused me of doing in those meetings I would have either shot myself or, if I was a major scumbag, congratulate myself on being an outstanding player in the BSDM game.

Prologue

‘McTavist: The Making of a Community’, by Lewis McDonald and Lucia McTavist, with added personal details by the authoress: a synopsis.
The authorship of this work is not quite what it appears, but my editor insisted the book be presented thus. In explanation, I was named Lewis McDonald at birth, became Lucia McDonald before I was two and became a McTavist in my early teens. McTavist is my married name too because I married James McTavist. My editor says she is going to use this as promotional material. I didn’t think it to be that interesting.

Makeover of a Lifetime

Dave’s ‘Femme Makeover of a Lifetime’ had been arranged and paid for months in advance. All Dave had to do was show up, lay still and let the makeover crew do their job. No effort required. What’s not to like?

The advertisement on Dave’s favorite crossdressing website had read:”Femme Makeover of a Lifetime; the ultimate, once in a life time, femme fantasy experience. No surgeries performed, no tattoos given, no obscenities permitted. Extra services available at an additional cost. No checks.” That seemed reasonable.

{This is one from the archives. This one originally dates from 2009 and was finished in 2018 after several previous attempts that got nowhere}

It was the height of the morning rush hour and the crowds of commuters were on their way to work.

Pierre Clement was one of the commuters who in their tens of thousands made their way from Waterloo to their place of work five mornings a week, week in, week out, year in, year out. Most of the time, he was just another face in the throng of people using the station.

Pierre had been living in London for more than ten years and ran a Wine Importers that was based on the western edge of the ‘Square Mile’. He waited patiently for the No 243 bus to take him to his stop on Theobalds Rd. He was not in a good mood that morning as another passenger on the 07:45 from Guildford had spilt their coffee when the train stopped at Effingham Junction with an unexpected jolt. Quite a lot of it ended up on the previously immaculately pressed trousers of his business suit. Several other passengers did a good bit of ‘effing’ of their own.

Chapter One

Sean was falling.

He felt nothing, but nonetheless he was falling. Of that Sean was certain.

-

“Indeed My Lord, I understand your situation entirely. Tis a thorny problem, but one easy to solve.” Gareth solved the matter with a single dagger thrust seen by none other than my self.

Instinctively, she lay on the floor and put her hands over her heart. She tried to calm herself, but waves of fear kept washing over her. Everything is wrong, she told herself. I’m alone at the butt-end of the universe, and I don’t know what to do.

Dan dropped me off at home. His parting words were.
“Take some time to get your life sorted out and then get the hell out of town. Adam Strong might be in Ryker’s but I’m sure that he’ll be trying to discredit you. His frat buddies are not to be messed with. I should know. My brother is one of them but he’s a good guy. He saw the light and is now a Priest down in Southern Jersey, but he still has his ear to the ‘frat network’.”

He stopped me from replying.
“I know that you didn’t supply the critical bit of evidence that persuaded the DA to file charges but he clearly hates your guts. He has plenty of people that will step up to the plate in his absence. With you out of the picture he and his ilk will have to find someone else to target.”

Given the sheer number of Police and Fire Service Vehicles in the street outside my home, there really was nothing for it but to pack a bag and leave my home. I could see that there was even a TV Crew interviewing a couple of residents. The Christmas period is always a bit of a slow news time and anything with a human interest would naturally be news even if it was just some padding to fill the time slot.

It had been a hectic and unusual time lately, temporarily becoming ‘Miss Campbell’, and The Wicked Queen, and my time with Sara and Mam over Christmas. I just hoped that the next term in the New Year would be a little more routine.

The night before the teleport cycle, they switched back.
Linnea found it a bit disorienting, being back in her own body again.
She saw what Darlene meant by a mess of weird sensations.
She caught herself wondering whether living in a synth body was the better deal.
Alarmed, she shook off the question and tried to forget it.

Can the Martin family have a White Christmas at Sun City? Read and see.

Robin Campbell, as part of a scheme to stop the bullying of a friend, had attended Abbey Girls High School, living as a girl, and he had become extremely successful and popular academically and on the hockey field. After leaving school and attending University he returned to Abbey High as English teacher, and part-time sports master.