And so the evening continues and hidden amongst the moments of romance and love there hides Miss SC…Let the games begin.

Two women were sorting through a pile of clothes. They’d been bought as a job lot from a local firm of ‘House Clearers’.

“I’ll go and get the lunch today.” Said the very petite raven haired one to the taller brunette.

“You carry on sorting out this little lot,” she added.

“Gee thanks Saffy. We all know how you hate this job,” replied the brunette.

I’m the brunette. I’m Fran and the other woman is Saffron or Saffy for short. We both work in a shop selling Antique and Classic Clothes.

The Wedding

By Dawn Natelle

Thanks as always to Lizzy Bennet

Jess and I were about to leave the airport to go to the Breakers. I turned to her and asked, “Do I look OK?” I was wearing a batik print dress that came to just above the thigh and a pair of Tom’s canvas espadrilles. I would have worn sandals but it was too cold.

“Stop it. You look gorgeous. That dress is perfect. I can’t believe you put in all this effort for the plane,” Jess said.

Any Way the Wind Blows
(c) 2017
Haylee V

Continuing the intro to a story that will be about various facets of BDSM. If BDSM is not something that interests you, feel free to ignore it.

If you are not of legal age, whether that is 18 or 21 depending on your location, you should not be reading this. This is because, as stated above, the story will deal with various facets of BDSM and such activities are for adults, not minors.

**********

One morning, Vincent woke up very early. He wasn't used to getting up so early but for some reason he found his eyes opening around 8am and sitting up. He looked out the window, saw the sun shining on he porch and yawned. Vincent then stood up and felt an odd bounce in his step, he couldn't quite figure out what that feeling was but he didn't feel like questioning it too much.

"Why are you calling me? I don't want to talk to you." Vincent said into his phone before hanging up and getting on the train. His ex girlfriend has been trying to get back with him for so angry and knew that he had to pass through her town on his way to work, he sat as far from sight as possible. He got close and he decided he absolutely couldn't be with her ever again.

He was two texts from her, the first one was a picture of her face and the second one said, "Get off in Denver St. Walk to my house. Go in and go to my bedroom."

This is the intro to a story that will be about various facets of BDSM. If BDSM is not something that interests you, feel free to ignore it.

If you are not of legal age, whether that is 18 or 21 depending on your location, you should not be reading this. This is because, as stated above, the story will deal with various facets of BDSM and such activities are for adults, not minors.

**********

A chance encounter in a chat room that leads to electronic meetings and eventually John asks Emma for a date.
But Emma has old fashioned ideas, she’s a Fifties girl and has a Golden Rule; First Dates are Kissing Dates, nothing more, aren’t they?
Well what about the second date, is that kissing only with perhaps an allowed caress, a warm cuddle? Or is it time that Emma took another look and reconsidered her own Golden Rules and perhaps modify them a little?
So Emma, a transsexual girl; (or so she thought until the hospital consultant began to believe that there was more to Emma than simple gender dysphoria), begins her struggle. Should she stick to her rules and allow her head to guide her down love’s rocky path or surrender to her heart?
With her mentor from the transgendered support group and a dozen or so trans girlfriends and their blokes to assist her, not to mention a mischievous muse and an upcoming surgical appointment to rectify nature’s little tricks, Emma has nothing to worry about.
Perhaps a quiet trip on the river in a punt with her new boyfriend might be the way to go? Or should she murmur with starlings?

“There’s a table not far from the Bar,” I said as I led my two friends into ‘The George and Dragon’ that fateful Thursday evening.

We all sat down and I fished a £20 note out of my Wallet.

“Jayne, be a darling and get them in. Mines a glass of Merlot. If you ask the barman nicely, I understand that he has a very nice bottle of St Emillion behind the bar with my name on it.”

Jayne and my other friend Donna were with me to celebrate a promotion and to do a bit of business at the same time.

“If you’re sure... I don’t want to pressure you or make you feel like you owe me.”

 

“Tell me what you want,” I said. “I can’t promise I’ll do it, but I’ll at least consider it. And I won’t judge you for it.”

 

He was silent again. Then: “All right... promise not to laugh or freak out?”

This is a follow up letter that I sent to my mother. I know that many people have read my "A Letter to my Mother" and expressed happiness about her reaction, and how I said what I said to her.

This is me cutting her off.

I was assaulted by a transphobe while living with someone as a roommate. My mother thought it was more important to attend a dinner with her sister instead of coming to the hospital to see me after this incident. Then it came out that my mother and her new husband had been running down me to my daughter the entire time she was living with them, which was a period of six months (and pure torture for her).

It's a tale of businessmen, paperwork, filing, and toil! And some damnation, monsters, and wacky mishaps occur along the way. But paperwork too! It's a Hell Of A Story!
http://www.sincomics.com/ddg.php

Vesta’s Hearth Chapters 19 and 20

By

Frances Penwiddy

Copyright© Frances Penwiddy 2012
This is a work of fiction, the characters and the Café are fictitious and any resemblance to places or persons living or dead is coincidental.

Vesta’s Hearth is not considered suitable as reading matter for minors.

Thanks to Lizzy Bennet for her comments. They are much appreciated.

We were walking into the apartment after dinner with my parents.

“What’s wrong with this outfit?” I was wearing a blue women’s oxford shirt, black skinny jeans, boots and a black blazer.

“Nothing,” Jess said, with a smile. “You actually look really good. Clothes look good on you.”

“Why did she say something then?”

She laughed, "That is a separate question.”

“Why is she pushing my buttons?”

Jess grinned widely. “She installed them.”