Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Seventeen: The Emissaries of Justice

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

From the Limoxian Universe

By Jo Dora Webster

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Chapter 3: “Whispers of Conspiracy”

A Minor Job, a Major Gut Feeling

Chapter 1: “Dockside Ghosts”

Arrival at the Dock

I rushed to the music hall, grabbed my bass from Mr. Smith and went into the empty studio used for small ensembles or practice for electric instruments. It was almost soundproof inside and I would take that to my advantage to run scales and patterns. I strapped my wood grain bass over me and started to play a somber sounding melody, at least I liked to think it was.

Bianca returns to Chicago for Thanksgiving and finds a few surprises awaiting her.

http://whateleyacademy.net/index.php

Neil was late in arrival, and we had already given up on him and headed for the pub. No music, but an awful lot of people to smile at and be lifted by a smile’s return, often with extra warmth. Debbie and her girls were still with us, and Alys and I had a quiet moment of pleasure spotting which ones we recognised, and which were still coming to terms with their new lives. I could almost read their minds: is this real? I get to be myself, in public? There’s no catch, no taking it all away again?

As James-Trout, let me recount to you my tale, one that unfolds in the shadows of my seemingly perfect life. I am a successful programmer, renowned for my skills that have elevated numerous companies to the pinnacle of their industries. My life is intricately entwined with that of Susan, my wife, a towering figure in the realm of industrial security, her expertise and position unmatched.

Alex Jones. F5 Trafficked (Involuntary, Forced Feminization)

(On line editing a day later.)

By Gwen Brown

This piece probably skirts the edge of permissibility in the beginning. By the end of Chapter 1 the Protagonist is almost 21 years of age.

Chapter 1

Alex was barely pubescent at age 12+. He had just gotten off the Bus two blocks from his home. That is the last thing he remembered.

Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman 
Northern Flags in Southwinds Fluttering

-3-
All Quiet Along The Pontchartrain Tonight

Our picket line was a mile and half from the main camp. It took me around forty five minutes to reach the line. I was surrounded by total darkness. It seemed not a soul was around for miles. It was just me and the stars that seemed to shimmer brightly in the night heavens. The moon, full and plum, reminded me of an old silver dollar. The wind seemed to be still now.