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.
In this chapter, Emily navigates a day filled with grief and reflection as she bids farewell to her mother. Amidst the weight of the occasion, small moments of kindness and support from those around her offer glimpses of comfort and strength, helping her take the first steps toward healing.
Many thanks to everyone for all the help last year and let's try to make 2025 a wonderful year in terms of stories posted and enjoyed. :)
The loss of 2/3 of our ad revenue (~$1000/mo) is still hurting.
Any financial help will be appreciated.
Thanks to everyone who has sent money. We really depend on you, more than you know. :)
Thanks for any amount you can send. All contributions are very welcome. Thanks a great deal to all who have previously contributed here or paid for a membership at Patreon or Hatbox.
Many thanks!
Hugs,
Erin, Piper, Jamie, Cat, Rasufelle and the rest of the crew
Worlds where being different ISN'T your biggest problem!
Murder at the Shapeshifters' Ball by Rodford Edmiston Buy it on Kindle
Stickmaker's collection of classic SciFi Transformation Tales leads off with a great detective yarn!
Everybody who can be anybody is at the party, including someone willing to kill a beautiful elf!
Thirteen stories set in about ten different worlds deliver mystery, suspense and adventure. With a few important transgender transformations among the furries, aliens and fantastic creatures!
There's a sample of the first story after the break!
I was in room two-eighteen when I first noticed the pain. The girls were sitting in their circle on wooden chairs, spaced about a foot apart. Kayleigh was complaining about some formal event that she’d been dragged to. The other girls were nodding in agreement amongst the discarded classroom filled with old crusty books, stacks of parchment, and the scent of old paper permeating the air. That was when I screamed; not a loud scream, more of a squeak maybe.
Doom Valley Prep School
Chapter 9
Things Are Looking Up
While the boys went to the opposite side of the cafeteria to get their food, I went with my friends to our usual counter and glared at the cat woman. “Let's try this. Give me anything you have.”
“I'm not a mind reader kid, give me something a bit more specific,” she replied.
“Oh for the love of!” I screamed. “Give me a piece of bread!”
CHAPTER 41
Our route wriggled and danced across the map, from Toulouse to Lastours, Carcassonne to Peyrepertuse, and then Beziers. Each held one or more castles, each held a story, and it was some time before I realised how much each place held for Alys. I had a hint of what was going on when we had passed Lastours, a spectacular chain of towers along a ridge, and continued uphill to a small hut with a tourist info place inside, where Alys had raved over some butterfly or other, as well as any number of short-toed eagles, lizards, plants, slime moulds, whatever.
According to the sun it was around the middle of the day when Oliver, as tired as he was, followed me into the center of town. I had set a blistering pace after the bandits had ambushed us, and Oliver, though he struggled, had managed to keep up with me. Oliver was covered in blood, not his blood, but blood from the bandits that had tried to ambush us. The boy's long brown hair was matted with sweat and his feet were blistered and bleeding.
Outside, I could see that Sammy was itching to look at the list.
“Not here, Sammy, when we speak to Inspector Mason and I have the proposal you’re offering, in writing. I’m still part of Jocks’ defense team, remember.”
We went to the police station where Mason was poring over a heap of paperwork.
Necromancer Unmanned
Chapter 7
Blood, Guts and Rot
The Imp ran at the strange human, it's mind filled with blood lust and glee at the impending kill. The human was sick and injured, barely able to hold its blade. Its claws would gut the prey, then it could find the unarmed humans, the weak and young. It would play with them for hours, listening to them scream, tasting their flesh, feeling their life leave their bodies.
It was Halloween night. The Halloween of two thousand and fourteen. I was eight years old at the time. I was a pale, sickly little boy with long, raven hair. I weighed just under eighty pounds and was a shrimp when compared to the other boys my age. I was also astmatic and prone to coughing fits that lasted for several minutes. That Halloween still comes back to haunt me from time to time.
I must have looked as astonished as I felt. Though he was uncomfortable, he didn’t look away.
“It was a couple days ago. Before we made love. I knew what I wanted, but I was so afraid that I would hurt you, somehow. Especially because of your issues with PTSD. So I talked to Fiona. She’s your dragon. I figured if she thought there was any likelihood of a problem, she would wave me off. She . . . ah . . . well. She didn’t.” He was blushing, bless the man. “She also wasn’t surprised.”
When Devin first went to his electrolysis session, he was told that his facial hair would take about a week to start growing back. He had already known that it would take far more than one session to remove all his facial hair, but he was still pretty stoked to have a whole week clear of it.
Looking at his face in the mirror, it was apparent that that week was over.
It was subtle, but he could see and feel some fuzz on his chin. He tried to shave all that he could off, but his attempts still left a light shadow marking the bottom half of his face.
I made my way through the dining hall, through the rows of tables bustling with the excited and idle conversations of servant that I both knew and didn’t know. One girl dark skin and curly blonde hair smiled and waved to me as I passed; I waved back, though I had no idea who she was. She turned to her friends and giggled as I continued onward, past the main grouping of tables and toward the front where Sheena, Kayla, and Elric sat with their food trays pushed off to the side while they stared at stacks of paper atop brown folders.
In this chapter, Zee copes (badly) with being called names, gets in very deep trouble, then receives some advice on what to call someone very special to him.
Janegirl Camp
Chapter 8
Copyright 2022 by Heather Rose Brown
=-=-=
I flopped into a chair at the last empty table in activity room four. My shaking knees thanked me, but my butt complained about the hard, plastic seat it landed in. I took a quick look at the kids sitting nearby. So far, nobody seemed to be staring at my sorta-girlish-but-not-really clothes.
[At the State Trooper HQ in Spokane, WA]
The Lieutenant turned the laptop around and showed me the screen. On it was the front page of that day's Washington Post. The headline got my attention in a flash.
“Inspector, we have a positive identification of James Norman as Jamie Murphy, brother of Jock Macready.” He listened for a few moments and then hung up.
“The Inspector says to thank you for that. We have James Norman on our radar as an associate of one of the Angels’ Chapters. I think that he may have a group of thieves who steal the goods and then the items are sent elsewhere for sale in pubs, or even on the internet.”
Birds chirped overhead and a soft wind creeped through the gazebo as Sheena ran her finger about the rim of her teacup. She studied the piping hot liquid within for just a moment before dropping a white sugar cube, watching it plop and create a ripple, then returned her attention to her parents seated across from her. Martin was dressed in unusually pleasant attire; a green vest atop a white collarless shirt buttoned to the top. Mother, as per usual wore a high-necked green gown with puffed sleeves, her own teacup held in front of her with both hands.
The first published anthology of our own very prolific short story author, Maryanne Peters, is available on Kindle in a new book.
Friendship and Agony with 15 other TG romances by Maryanne Peters Now on Kindle!
When is a “Friendship” close to being a marriage? Two men discover that being friends is not enough when one of them agrees to be a bride.
What will an estranged father do to keep his family together when they make a “Call for Help?” Break the law and make radical changes? But how will his life be judged?
A man writes an "Agony" column pretending to be a woman, then success demands that SHE step forward into reality…. Can she become a real person?
This is a story I did a few years ago and posted on Sapphire's. It's an attempt at Science Fiction and Adventure. At the time I wrote it, I had never read any of the Gor books. Now that I have, I'm surprised at some of the similarities.
The story is about Bill, who, through a travesty of justice gets involved with a dying boy. With the help of the boy's late uncle's writings, Bill is pulled into a strange, savage world.
Checks can be made out & sent to:
Joyce Melton
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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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