The Con

By Melanie Ezell

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The choice of costume at an anime convention can have wider reaching side effects than one might imagine.

A chance encounter in the laundry room leads two lonely people into something far beyond what either could imagine. All it takes is a sense of curiosity, an open mind and a bit of unrequited lust.

(The Darlene saga was my first attempt at writing fiction that wasn't purely sexual. By the time I finished the series the sex scenes were mostly a distraction that didn't contribute to the story. So here is the R rated version of how Darlene and Jenny found each other.)

There were a lot of good reasons to be out this early, but none as wonderful as seeing this first Giant Swallowtail awakening, and John smiled as it moved. Magnificent, he whispered, in awe of this giant as it slowly unfurled it’s Forewings against the sun’s morning warmth. It was, as they always were at this time of day, lethargic and calm.

"Papilio Cresphontes Cramer" by it’s scientific name, John whispered, but only to himself as the relative giant of insects ignored him.

As we head home, the Major casually drops a bomb, "You haven't been who you are now–physically I mean–for very long have you?"

That comment really came out of left field. I did not see it coming. How do I answer that one?

"I can't figure out how you changed, but you act as if you haven't figured out your body yet," he continues. "If I had to guess, you were probably male not too long ago. I'd like to know how the transformation happened but figure that's classified information. I'm sure that it wasn't SRS. The job is too complete and your mannerisms haven't quite caught up with your body. I understand that with SRS patients, the body is usually the finishing touch."

Well, so much for trying to blend in. I wonder who else has figured this out.

Chapter 14: Busted!

“You think I just want to kill you? You’re going to suffer my boy… You’ll have ring side seats for your sister’s rape, torture and death, then I might kill you… after some playtime.” He smirked, running a finger across Sarah’s cheek. “After all, you do want to be a woman don’t you? My dear little David…”

Maid Joy

I was in my barracks and getting dressed for formation. For the five hundredth time I wished I dared wear my panties instead of these bikini briefs. The tighty-whiteys that were issued (in reality grungy-greenies for the OD green color) didn’t feel right or make me happy to have them on, mainly because of how badly they hurt and fit.