i would like to share some things that i collectet and translatet throughout the last couple of years

hope you enjoy

huggies

carpediem

Cruel Crazy Beautiful World
You have to wash with the crocodile in the river
You have to swim with the sharks in the sea
You have to live with the crooked politician
Trust those things that you can never see

Don't try this at home - Cathy's night of gymnastics!

Easy As falling Off A Bike
by Angharad.
part 71.

Eric did as instructed and waved to his mother as she drove out of the parking lot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the elastic and pulled his hair up into a ponytail.

Erika was greeted on the bus by polite grins and shy girls who all looked curiously at the new member of their ride to Camp Kumoni.

“Erika,” Samantha called from the back of the bus. “I saved you a seat.” She waved.

Erika smiled back and joined the beautiful blonde in the back seat of the bus.

“I got here early, like a geek, so that I could get us a good seat.” She greeted Erika with a smile. “So how did it go last night?”

“I thought my mom caught wind of what was going on.” Erika explained in low tones. “When I got back from getting my swimsuit, I joined her for pizza. Right in the middle of swallowing, she asked me if I had found my swimsuit. I choked on the pizza. But then I played it off.”

Samantha giggled.

“Its not funny.” Erika looked sternly at her new friend. “What if someone from school is up here at camp?”

“Like they could recognize you.” Samantha looked to the front of the bus. The driver just stepped on and was taking her seat, while a counselor stood at the front flipping through a clipboard. “There is such a difference between Eric the plague and the alluring Erika. Especially once we get you made over.”

Easy As Falling Asleep!
by Angharad & J. Austen
part 70!!!!!!!!!!

It was quite cold as I took my goodbyes from Greg and Margaret Soames, the hosts from hell. I walked as quickly as the high heels of my shoes would allow as they clicked along the road. I was very glad to get home and into the warm.

After reading the story “The boy who wasn’t seen, and the Girl who couldn’t speak” by Rankan, I got to thinking about that storyline and decided to try out my own ideas. I hope that is okay.
 
 
“Here, lets get this sized for you.” Samantha held out a bra.

“What?” Eric’s face went white.

“You’re going to have to wear one at camp. Try it on.” Samantha’s soft voice took on an edge.

Eric put his arms through the holes while Samantha fastened it in the back and adjusted the shoulder straps so that it fit properly. Well kind of. It was in the right place, it just didn’t have anything to fill it out properly.

“I don’t think this is going to work.” Eric said showing her the deflated cups.

“I’ve got it covered.” Samantha reached into the box and pulled out two flesh colored things. “These are breast forms.” She explained to Eric. “When a girl doesn’t have enough chest, she cheats and uses these.” She tucked them into the bra, filling them out.

Eric looked down and couldn’t believe his eyes. It looked like he had breasts.

“Here try this on.” Samantha handed him a purple cotton top. He pulled it over his head and looked in the mirror. His jaw went slack. He could hardly recognize himself. There might be a chance yet.

This story dedicated to Gwendolyn Ann Smith for her, "Remembering our dead" web page at http://www.gender.org/remember. It's a place dedicated to our TG brothers and sisters who were murdered at the hands of others due to hate and intolerance. On the average, one (1) TG person is murdered each month. Would you take a moment to visit the site, bow your head, say a prayer for our fallen brothers and sisters, and remember what we are fighting for - the right to be treated as any other human being. Also, if you have a moment, would you please drop Gwendolyn a note and tell her how much you appreciate her maintaining this site. Thank you.

This story dedicated to all the writers of TG Fiction.

This story is dedicated to all the TG writers out there, who make the days easier to deal with by posting new stories to read each day.

This story is dedicated to the volunteers and workers of AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) and other related, drug rehab programs.

This story dedicated to Mathew Shepherd, who lives in the hearts of all open-mind people.

A story of a teenage boy with desires to become feminine. He gets busted wearing his best friend’s, sister’s cheerleading uniform. And she always wanted a sister...

A boy in a girl’s cheerleader outfit was staring back at me. My hair was long, but just not, well, styled like a girl. I opened her drawers and found some tie-backs and barrettes. I had no clue of what to do with them. Just then, I heard a soft knock on the door.

“Brian, is that you in there?” It was Britney!

“I’ll be right out,” I whispered.

“Brian, you have been in there for a half hour! What is going on?”

I had to think fast. I told her that I was sick. She did not believe me. I heard her try the door. Then I heard her use a tool to unlock the door. It was opening! I threw my body against the door and pushed.

“Please don’t come in Britney!” I pleaded. It was too late. She was part of the way in pushing back on the door when she saw my reflection in the mirror. Her eyes got big.

Dave and Jenny decide to surprise Gaby by secretly traveling with the Appollinaris team to the States when she rides with her American friends in Atlanta.

I peeked at myself in the mirror. Stephanie finished applying the foundation, and was now putting blush on my cheeks. The skin on my face looked flawless. There was no trace of anything that could be mistaken for a shadow from facial hair. It was really working. I was enjoying this very much, and decided to put my fears to rest for the final time. I closed my eyes and drifted off into a daydream. I pictured myself in my wedding gown on the arm of a handsome man in a black tuxedo. He was much taller than I with deep blue eyes and a square jaw. He was looking at me as if I was the love of his life. Why was I feeling this way? It really felt as if the closer I came to being feminized, the more I wanted to be in the arms of a man. My daydream was interrupted by Stephanie’s voice.

“All done! Oh my! You are ravishing!”

My hair was still wet, and flat, but the makeup was like something out of a magazine! I was amazed, and entranced by my reflection. I looked up at the girls and stammered,“You were right. I want it all. I want to be a girl in the worst way. I will do anything for you. Teach me the ways of becoming a woman, PLEASE!!?”