A friendly place to read, write and discuss Transgender Fiction.
Home of 3000+ chapters of Easy as Falling off a Bike by Angharad and many other stories.
John goes to the Halloween party dressed as Alice in Wonderland and has a great time,
but he has a nagging feeling of guilt because he's keeping secrets from Blaine.
Miss Stephanie makes several more appearances, too.
The week at the ski lodge in New Hampshire continues as does Alice's tutelage of Allie.
I never know if anyone will like these stories until I post them.
The quiet hum of monitors filled David’s hospital room, the soft beeping marking the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His mother and Emma had just stepped out for coffee, leaving him alone in his still-unconscious state. The fluorescent lights above cast a pale glow over his motionless form.
The peace was shattered when one of the machines began to emit a shrill, rapid alarm. A nurse, passing by the door, rushed in to check the monitors. Her eyes widened as she read the rapidly climbing numbers on the screen.
Michael Cohen's dream was to protect and serve as a police officer.... That job didn't satisfy him until one day, when people without names came to visit. He wanted to make a difference, but he didn't expect it to make a difference to him, too...
It was about a week before my 13th birthday. Having come home from work unexpectedly, the Ogre---who was what passed for a masculine role model in my life---had decided to take one final stab at "making a man out of me" before writing me off forever as a hopeless little bitch...
"What the hell you cryin' for? You're a boy, nothing's gonna change that! What's that you're coverin' with your hand, huh? You think putting on a damn dress changes anything? Do you? Answer me, goddamn it!"
I stood there shivering, feeling horribly vulnerable. By now I didn't know what I was or what could change what. I was sobbing, trying to nod my head yes and shake it no at the same time.
"For God's sake Sam, that's enough! Let him get dressed."
"No, I want him to say it first! What are you?"
"I'm a boy," I blubbered.
"That's a start. Now put some damn trousers on and come with me."
In a drizzle of slushy snow I was marched across the yard to the shed, where I was forced to take part in a grotesque and humiliating ritual of destruction. This was the heart of darkness...
The Abattoir (a Jackie Kaiser story)
by Laika Pupkino
Synopsis: No rest for the wicked, or for anyone being chased by the wicked. At a time when the last thing she needs is a fight, well she gets one anyways. But her fighting spirit is the last thing that anyone was expecting.
Whatever happened to Fay Wray?
That delicate satin-draped frame
As it clung to her thigh, how I started to cry
'Cause I wanted to be dressed just the same
“I'm not a girl, Mother! The only thing girly about me is my long, beautiful hair!”
She looked at me. Then snapped her fingers, and said, “Easily remedied”.
I was confused, “What do you mean?”
She flicked her right wrist, “See for yourself”.
I felt the air become denser and soon enough, the air in front of me solidified becoming some sort of a mirror. My hands immediately flew to my crotch.
She cradled the guitar with the neck up by her shoulder, closed her eyes and began to warm up by playing some adlibbed Flamenco. When she got into the flow of the music, she began to play ‘La Malagueá±a’. The girls began to Tango when Angel played ‘La Cumparsita’. Angel just let the music carry her away as she kept on playing and smiling.
An hour ago Punkin' Judy had been a bozo in love. Gloriously so, and suddenly with hopes for a life quite different than the ill-fitting male one that she had previously resigned herself to. But her harlequin romance had come to a sudden halt after an alarming change in Miss Tricia revealed her to be one very unstable clown, forcing P.J. to abandon both their professional and romantic relationships. We find her sitting out the final hour of their first & last clowning gig together, unable to decide which hurts more- her battered body or her broken heart...
======== HUMOR ME
======== by LAIKA PUPKINO
======== Part Five: NOBODY'S FOOL
"Didn't they always used to say that a man ain't supposed to cry?
But I defy you to look me in the eye and tell me you're a friend of mine..."
. . . . . . . . ~Warren Zevon
Synopsis:What exactly happened to the students and faculty of Augusta High School, Bigg's Manufacturing and Erin's Cyclery after Drew and his friends went back home to Warsop at the end of the Cultural Exchange Program? This story will attempt to answer those questions.
Suspended under a twilight canopy
We'll search the clouds for a star to guide us
If by some chance you find yourself loving me
We'll find a cloud to hide us
We'll keep the moon beside us
At Aunt Greta’s–
Another New Girl
by Gabi
Chapter 21 of a Continuing Saga…
Miss Tickell checked off the final nine names in the register. ‘Now, I’m putting you on your honour to be quiet and remain in your places while I go and see Miss Morgan. You may talk quietly amongst yourselves, but I want no raised voices. Understand?’ She looked hard at a few of the boys huddled in the back row and bustled out of the classroom.
‘I always thought there was something weird about Rose,’ Willy Philpott, sitting in the back row, proclaimed.
My life growing up was a little strange. You might have blamed it all on that oblong orifice lurking just below my penis and testicles. My parents of course knew of my condition but ordered me never to reveal the existence of said orifice by word or touch to any other living soul. And so I attended school as a boy named Fred. I was physically smaller than the rest of my male peers and when I reached puberty I didn't have the facial hair or completely lose my high pitched voice. My chest developed small mounds around my nipples and my ass was bigger than any of the other boys in the school. So it wasn't
As a parent, you're responsible for the lives of your children. You make a thousand judgment calls before sending them out to meet the world, and sometimes what you think is right ... isn't. By the time you see how wrong you've been, it's usually too late, and there's no going back.
Inspired by The Softening of Jessie by AshleyTS, this is a story about another mother, her son, the daughter he became ... and what happened when they both woke up.
Patrick Reece never went to college but ended up paying the bills by working in a diner. But he had a plan to better himself by writing original songs.
Checks can be made out & sent to:
Joyce Melton
1001 Third St.
Space 80
Calimesa, CA 92320
USA
Note: $6000 is the operating, maintenance and upgrade budget. Amounts received in excess of the $6000 will be applied to long term debt accrued over the last 19 years.
Dedications:"For Emily"
For Stanman: "He was always there to offer a kind word and encouragement."
"In loving memory of
Robyn Lovelace
My life partner,
my life's love, my friend"
-- Karen J. Taylor
This site is dedicated to the
memory of lost friends
and particularly for
Jeanne Gerrib,
Rick Buhs, and
Bob Arnold.
-- Joyce Melton
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