“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?

Kate, Amy and Blake have fun with a pretty pink corset.

Six

Dad was late arriving on Saturday. He was supposed to pick me up by noon, he didn’t show until three. He took one look at me and stated, “What’s with the hair?” I told him I was letting it grow out. Mom saw an opening, “If you sent the money you owed maybe I could afford to get him a haircut." Dad shook his head and told me to go. Mom wanted the last word, “See if you can have him back on time."

Five

“Starting next week you have to spend two weeks with your father,” Mom stated as a fact.

“What, why?”

“It is part of the divorce settlement,” Another cold fact.

“Is Sis coming?”

“No,” I see her minor shake of the head with a frown. Her way of saying, I’m sorry when delivering bad news.

“Why not? Why do I have to go and not her?” I once again get screwed.

“I have a job. I can’t get off."

Sis looked happy stating that fact. “I don’t want to go,” I was afraid of him.

Four
It had been three weeks since the day I wore my first outfit. I’ve started making some minor modifications to my daily routine. I took baths, long hot bubble baths, instead of showers. I’ve been shaving my legs, armpits and private area. I started wearing panties. I slept in a night gown. Part of me thought I was making too many changes to fast. The joy I felt each day only encouraged me to go further.

“Mom. Did you use my lip stick?” Sis asked.

“No,” Mom looked at Sis. “Why?”

Three

I sat on my bed wearing an aqua baby-doll night gown and panty. The cotton balls were stuffed between my toes. I shook the bottle of red nail polish, thinking about the risks. I didn’t think it likely that Mom or Sis would ever see my painted toes. It would only be for a few days. I was confident I would never be caught. I found it exciting to have a secret. Like when I wore panties for the entire day. Mom and Sis never knew. I knew, every time I stood or sat I felt the panties caress my bottom. It made me feel naughty, and I found that exhilarating.

Curiosity Killed The Boy

My older sister always had more clothes than I. Her closet and dresser were full. The closet in the spare bedroom was packed with outfits that didn’t fit her or were deemed out of style. There were boxes of her old clothes on the floor of the closet. Since Monica took care of her clothes, Mom had a habit of saving her stuff. “You never know when they may come into use,” she would say.

Kingston Academy Shorts

#1: The Laundry Incident

By Melanie E.

For Julian Stone, signing up to be a Princess has been a stone gas. But when a simple prank goes horribly wrong, is this Princess man enough to own up?

-==-

Madison
By Anon Allsop

I sat upon a little bench and watched shadows race across the open expanse of the lawn. Deep were my thoughts as my mind filtered out and processed, what had gotten me to this exact place in my life.

Glancing at my watch, I saw the dial reflect the sun as it broke through the cloud that raced overhead. I squinted at the sudden glare, angling the face so I could see the dial. Ten minutes till two. I had forty minutes until I would be forever alone.

I was sitting in a chair in the living room of my small apartment. Legs demurely crossed at the ankles. Legs that were encased in black thigh highs, the ones with the cute bows at the tops. Feet that were in black round peep toe pumps with 3 inch heels. He leaned over me and kissed me on the lips, a full romantic kiss on lips that were painted with Plump Lips plum shade lipstick. I was frozen in place and in time, intoxicated with this moment and a slight intoxication of white wine.