I drove over to the cottage, now less than worried about the press. It was a mess, it had been searched, thankfully, they weren't vandals, so whilst they ripped out the back of wardobes and things, they didn't rip up the clothing. I took several more items down to the car. I didn't think I'd be coming back for a while.

I tidied up Stella and Simon's clothes, but left everything else. The young copper on the door was bored stiff, but he had his job to do, so after making him a cuppa and some sandwiches, I left.

“Neither do I sweetheart, but we must eat. If you don’t, you’ll lose even more of your bust and the pills won’t do their magic, will they?”

“I suppose not.” I allowed her to cajole me out of bed. My skirt was all creased and the belt had rubbed red marks around my small waist. She got me to strip off and put on my jammies and a dressing gown, and to wash my face and hands. When I’d done so, I padded down the stairs in my slippers, to the kitchen. My mother was standing with her back to me doing something at one of the work tops. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her and said, “I love you and I’m sorry I made you cry.”

She turned around and hugged me, “You didn’t, I’m just sad all the time at the moment.”

For my part, I kept looking down at my breasts. They weren't very big, but they were mine. Home grown. I grew them myself, I said to myself proudly, from all-natural ingredients. They were the same size as the little bags I used to use for padding, but these babies were real, and they wouldn't shift or fall out.

"Thought you might." I smiled enigmatically again. It was a look I was trying to perfect, the problem is without a mirror, you can't tell how it looks.

"You keep giving me funny smiles," said Simon.

"Do they puzzle you?" I asked.

"Only why you keep doing it."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part:181

"Oh shit!" said Simon and bit his lip.

Angelo spends his first summer with his new foster mother, finally finding happiness in his life as she treats him as "Angela," a lovely teen girl. That happiness may end since the foster care agency feels he should be raised as a boy. But the foster mother and Angela's friends are ready for a fight to keep Angela as the girl she was meant to be.

I had a major score. In the laundry were some of my favorite clothes of my sister's. All I needed was a little time alone and I would be satisfied, but someone out there doesn't like me. In fact, someone out there hates me.

Orphaned at 14, Angelo is a shy, sensitive boy who is helped to become the girl he always felt he was by a caring new foster mother. He becomes a prettily dressed teenaged girl who finds new friends and enjoyment. At the same time, a dark cloud is overhead, threatening his future.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Marcie," Mr. Bryant said, "but I can't hug you. I can send for the nurse, though."

In spite of everything, this made me laugh. "So she can hug me for you?"

Stark takes on her most dangerous prey . . . Grace de Messembry from fleurie's The Deception of Choice. As her plan unfolds, Stark finds she has her own choice to make -- or maybe there was really no choice at all, in the end.

Special thanks to fleurie (along with hugs, kisses, all my love, and a gratitude that cannot be measured) for her insights into Grace, her world, and her motivations. And thanks as well for reading my take on Grace's "comeuppance" and pronouncing it worthy.

"I don't know who is worse, your dad or Dirty Des here?" I said smirking. Des protested his innocence vociferously and Simon sat laughing.

Easy As.......
by: A........
part: 15doz -1

I sat eating sandwiches and glowering at Simon. For two pins I'd go home and sod the lot of them. Sensing movement and expecting Helen Brody the news reader, I was surprised to see Des walk in the door.

My eyes traveled up my image. My hips were too narrow, my waist too thick even though I was a skinny rail. My shoulders were too pronounced even when hidden under the large, white square collar. When I got to my face I saw that my glasses were far too out of place on the one thing I could somewhat imagine to be a girl's. Taking them off didn't help anything as my vision was far too poor to see beyond my nose. With a sigh I retreated back to the closet to look for something more promising, but nothing really availed itself.

Thankful
by Buggie