We'd barely gotten on the bus when my phone and Chris's started going off.

I grabbed mine and I had a text from Sally. "Looking hot bro!" with an attached pic. I pulled up the photo.

Oh god. It was me in the hall outside English, right after Chris had given me that kiss and hug. My shorts had been a lot tighter than I thought after that kiss. My cock looked huge and my boobs were prominent as well. Looked like my nipples were hard enough to cut glass, even through the top.

I texted back "Where did you get that?"

Sally's response was "you're all over Facebook and Tumblr"

"I'm doomed."

Chris looked up from her phone.

"Somebody told you about the posts?"

I just backed up a bit and showed her the pic.

"My sister sent me that."

"Wow. That looks better than you did before I kissed you."

"Not helping."

"I wonder if the pic is good enough to blow up to poster size?"

"Really not helping."

"Aww. You'd look great on my bedroom wall."

"Yeah right up until your mom & dad see it. Then I'm dead and you'll be grounded for life."

Chris gave it some thought. "Nah, probably only grounded until college."

I made a face. "I'll still be dead though."

"Dad wouldn't do that. He'd probably just maim you a little."

I’d been seeing this girl for a few months now, and everything was going well. We had fun; it was too early to be serious. She had come to pick a friend up at work one day and while waiting I’d shown her round the office and introduced her to my work mates. Things developed from there. She worked in IT and was a little nerdy, with a librarian kind of frumpy look mixed with a penchant for pastel colours. Lots of cardies, glasses on a chain, etc. Her looks would never have led you to believe that she was really mischievous, but mischief appears to have been her raison d’etre.

Growing Up Kitty
By Paul Calhoun

A teenage boy in a dystopian future has had some bodily development frozen at a younger age due to a medical mixup, and when he sees his similarly affected cousin he's crushed on for years has left her swimsuit in the changing room he goes in to touch it and finds a lot more.

I personally do like ageplay, but also understand that though I consider it only a vehicle for a form of transgression that is difficult to replicate anywhere other than underage that underage is also a big issue these days. I think that the setting I put it in and the method I used to make him SEEM younger actually improves the narrative because there's the transgressive element of being somewhere people would chase him away from as well as the element that he really ought to be able to go and usually can't because of his appearance.

Request for :iconmeioubunny:

The cat walk

the beginning
___________________________________________________________________

I was enjoying a beer at the local bar when a beautiful woman approached me
she introduced herself as Wendy
she sat down next to me and offered me another drink.

Ivoluntary Secretary - Part 4
by Barbara Lynn Terry

Chapter 1 - Frank Brainerd.

Laura turned off the tv, and then both ladies went to bed. Paula was drained, because even though she voluntarily accepted this position, she was still in doubts as to whether she chose the right job. All of her life, Paula always thought that a paycheck was a paycheck, but, until now, had no idea it would lead to this. What was she to do, she thought?

Walk on the Wild Side: A TG Mixed Tape

A young superhero obtains a mysterious cassette. In the near future high school students will be required to spend time as the opposite sex. A trans woman and a transformed man share lunch. Hit play on this month’s sweet and steamy TG Mixed Tape for all these stories, an interview with DAW, author of Battle for Earth and the Ragnarok Rising trilogy, AND MORE! [Also includes contributions from Amy Komori, Tmc and Jenny North]

Anyone watching would have been very confused. I must have changed about three times and was clearly becoming very agitated, and yet an observer might well have been completely nonplussed as to why.

Speed Trap.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

Copyright © 2015 Maeryn Lamonte - All Rights Reserved.

This is a story from early on in my TG Storytime career. I'm reposting it here because it's still one of my favorites, for some reason.

THE PURSE

A shy boys finds his faith left in the hands of his girlfriend. A accident that changed the boys future because of a reason to be told.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“All good things must come to an end.” I guess that’s a cliché, but it fit my situation. Summer vacation was soon to be ending. With that, I assumed that my life as a girl was also drawing to a close. The happy days and cozy nights became almost overshadowed by the dread of what was to follow at home.

One morning, Amie was up early and waiting for me. “Jamie, I have something to tell you.”

Introduction: The year is 2076, not that is extremely important. The story takes place at the same time as Five Love Stories en Brochette; much of it at the same time as the last chapter of that story. It has been almost six years since that story was published here. In that story, Scott Adams is briefly mentioned in a couple of sentences near the beginning, and once again in the epilogue. Wren Phoenix thought it might be nice to know a bit more about Scotty Adams. I’m sorry Wren that it took so damn long to get around to it.

This starts out as a very dark tale. There is physical abuse, and there is a murder. That won’t be any secret when it happens. The murderer is pretty obvious. Scotty Adams is a resourceful child caught in a very nasty situation. If you read Five Love Stories en Brochette you know that things work out, so that’s not a big secret. However, how did things work out? That’s where this little tale in five parts takes us.

OUTED IN THE OFFICE
Fiction by Cynthia V. Hart

The white #10 business envelope had no printing on it, just my name handwritten on the front. I found it sitting in my chair Monday morning when I arrived at work and came to my cubicle. I wondered who it was from; if it were official company communication, it would have been in one of our letterhead envelopes. I sat down, opened it and found a folded letter-size sheet of paper. On it was a printed photo, obviously taken by a smartphone’s camera…and my eyes widened in shock.

It was a photo of Andrea, no question. The dress, the face, the wig, the décor of the club…they were unmistakable. Someone had snapped a photo of me in my “other life” and left it here waiting for me in this envelope. I had thought nobody in the office knew I was a crossdresser, but here in my hands was proof that I was wrong. My heart was in my mouth and I started shaking with sheer terror.

Under the photo was printing from Microsoft Word or some other word-processing software, in that annoyingly overused Comic Sans font. It read:

“Dear Andrew: Is this you?

“Your friend always, Wendy.”

I gaped at the signature. Was this the gorgeous young lady I had spent two years or more working alongside, who sat just down the row of cubicles from me? Young, pale-skinned and freckled, busty and red-haired, blue-eyed and very cute, Wendy Parsons had always seemed a bit friendlier to me than most of the people there…but I had put it down to the rapport I often had with women, with whom I had always gotten along much better than those of my own gender. She strongly resembled a younger version of the actress who plays Joan on Mad Men -- Christina Hendricks, I think her name is -- right down to the epic prow. I had always loved the way her wavy crimson mane cascaded down from her head back over her shoulders, and the way her ample breasts filled out the front of her businesslike blouses and dresses. Sometimes I liked to imagine she wore something cut a bit lower than usual or left one extra button unbuttoned just for me to enjoy…but of course, that was mere fantasy.

I sat there for what must have been close to an hour, not even getting any work done, just trying to cope with the news that at least one of my co-workers was on to me and deciding what to do. Was it really from Wendy, or one of my other co-workers who’d spotted me and was trying to trap me?