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.
A suitor and a trip to the doctor's office keep Stevie on edge. Once again, I am
a wordy writer, so only read if words are something you enjoy. Also, if you complain
that you don't understand a character's motivation while also admitting you skipped
parts of the story, then... never mind.
I hope you're all remaining well. These are such stressful times. God bless.
The Harper estate, Golden Bluffs, is a living museum on Mansion Row in Newport,
Rhode Island. Once the home of the most important chronicler of The Gilded Age,
Louisa Harper, the museum offers glimpses into Louisa's daily life in 1890.
The staff portray members of the family and staff.
Unexpectedly, a new Louisa is needed...
Group Meeting:
Demetria comes walking into the meeting room where she spots eleven other pregnant women sitting in a circle in comfortable chairs. Among the group of women, she was the youngest. She couldn’t believe how many of them had been forced or raped by people they trusted. She didn’t have that problem, she wanted to become a woman and became pregnant on purpose.
This is a sometimes violent story with very raw sex scenes. If that's not what you want to read, please do not read this story.
The Greatest Lie
Chapter 7 Discipline
WARNING! This story meant solely for adult audiences! It contains scenes of graphic sex and forcible rape described in first person narration by its transgendered, teenage protagonist. If you are not an adult, or if you find this type of material offensive, please stop reading, hit the back key or dispose of this file. You have been warned of the content. If you proceed neither the author nor the site host will be held responsible! This story is purely fictional. All resemblance to actual persons is coincidental.
Chapter 12: Time is getting close to the prom. Doubt is eating away at Kim's resolve. Where will uncertainty lead her? What choices does she still have left? What choices do any of them have?
Exhausted and feeling quite ill, I lay on my bed. I needed to know what had happened to the thug who had died in hospital. Had I actually taken a human life, me the brave soul who feels upset at running over beetles in the road. I was really upset with myself.
I went to talk to Tom. He was busy in his study, I knocked and entered.
Sheila shooed me off to the lounge where the other girls were watching TV. Blue Peter was on and Valerie Singleton was doing something with sticky back plastic.
Lost, and found again
His wife has died, and his grief consoled only in his dreams. It is there that the woman he loved is closer to him than could imagine.
It's not as simple as desire, not just a layer, or even two. It's art.
Perhaps it was when I lifted my foot, to untie my shoe, and pants rose
just enough to show the smallest band of smooth and newly-shaven skin,
that we decided on a painting, not a sketch. I saw my secret exposed. I
saw him look. I looked up at his face, tried a small smile.
TRAGEDY OF THE SPIRIT PART 24 BURDEN OF EXISTANCE EPISODE 2
COPYRIGHT 2008 PRAIRIE_GIRL_64
When I woke up I was in hospital. There was no one arround, just lights on above me. I immediately panicked and began shaking. I pressed what ever button I could reach.
The guys at work liked Ernie. Without much conversation at all, they always knew he was somehow different, but he could outwork any operator there, and he was good for a little joking now and then. Would Ernie's secret ruin everything?
Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Bonzi ap Angharad.
part:252.
I drove home and sure enough, there were two strange men there wearing a police badge over otherwise ordinary clothes. One was in a hoodie and jeans, the other was wearing jacket and trousers.
By late afternoon, I was feeling pretty sure I'd called it right to
come up here. I phoned the boss, reported not quite as optimistically
as I felt and told myself that I was clocking out.
The evening rush home had started, horns and rumbling of motors as
downtown spilled its people out for another night. I went the way the
red lights let me; to the corner where he'd said his store was. I
A troll without his bridge is like a potato bug without a potato. Let us explore what happens when such a separation occurs. No, not when a potato bug loses its potato. Who wants to read a TG story about a bug? Now such a tale about a troll, a tale of triumph ... that makes a lot more sense. Doesn’t it? Well ... umm ... yeah ... hey look a pterodactyl.
You always worry, can they see? Is there something, maybe the way
you've let your hand relax or your wrist bend, despite all the times
you've caught yourself and clenched your fingers, straightened the
curve. Something -- the way you hold a hand to your mouth? Or tilt your
head? Why do you hook your knees together when you sit: ankle on
Easy As ............
by Angh..........
part:Quarter of a thousand (or lots of dozens!)
The next morning, despite his fragile condition, Simon made it to work, his father was taking no prisoners! I had planned to do some stuff on the mammal survey, tidy up the criteria for recording after some feedback from other universities.
I'd completely forgotten about the human-faced birds.
It started this morning when I found myself by chance in the neighbourhood where David lived. It was unexpected. I wasn't thinking about David, nor was I particularly intending to be in that particular part of South London. It just happened.
It was getting dark when I got there, and I'd managed to get off the
wrong exit, too, guessing downtown was where it wasn't, as I always do.
It meant an anxious tour through the dark and empty streets down by the
river, looking for a place to stay, finding nothing until I finally
passed an open space -- park or vacant lot, I couldn't tell and didn't
Susan smiled and flounced. "What can I say?" she grinned. "I'm just that clever! So when's Maisie get here? I have to tell you guys what I found out about Misty Sabatino. It's scandalous."
What Maisie Knew: A Marcie Donner Story, by Kaleigh Way
Detective Johnson was at my house in less than 15 minutes and once there didn’t waste any time in listening to the phone message. “What did he mean, ‘my message’?”
I took a deep breath and said, “He vandalized my car and spray painted ‘You talk, you die’ on the trunk lid. Truth is that threat’s why I didn’t report it in the first place.”
Michael, after a debauched and corrupt life, goes to Hell, as he very much deserved. In a fit of demonic irony, the Powers of Hell recruit him to be sent back to Earth, transformed into a succubus called Lorilei.
Who the Hell knew he --now she-- would have such talent for the job? And if Heaven knew--They aren't talking about it.
Sex and power go together for a succubus and Lorilei learns to enjoy both with a spicy bit of Chaos as well. But there are dangers even for one of The Damned and Lorilei needs to watch her cute little tail with the spade-shaped point on the end.
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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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