Luke grunted as his phone’s alarm woke him from a deep sleep. His mouth was dry and his head throbbed, but what concerned him most was that he didn't recognise his surroundings, particularly the feel of his bed- the mattress was much stiffer than his usual one, the pillow and the sheets thinner than what he was accustomed to. As his eyes started to focus, he was able to take in his surroundings.

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Four: Basic Supplies

Due to a long history of oppression and harassment, most supers in the Masks world have a separate, costumed identity for using their powers. Vic, unfortunately, does not have that option.

Masks XXVI: Lost and Found

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part One

Kim To Kimberly is the serialized story of an effeminate young man trapped into a reluctant transition by his older sister and her alpha male ex-boyfriend. Chapter 3: Years after the blind date at the drive-in where he was forced to give a BJ to an older male, Kim is now grown-up but out of work, so moves in with his sister Karen. To cheer him up, she suggests he dress as Kimberly again and go out in public. She's amazed at how quickly and deeply he gets into being Kimberly with each outing and pushes him farther - finally taking him to clubs to meet men.

It was a cold winters night, the week before Christmas. The sky was dark and mysterious with only the moon peeking through the snow-clouds. All the stores were closed and shuttered, all the streets were empty dark and bare. Nobody in the right mind was out and about on such a bitter unwelcoming night, the only sparks of life were the homeless shivering in shop doorways, wrapped in cardboard, paper, or whatever other items for warmth and protection that they could salvage.

I was just about to escape into sleep when I heard someone approach me. In the short time I had been sleeping rough I had come to learn it usually meant either Police who were normally ok as long as you moved on until they had left, Security guards who were a lot more intolerant brusque and even violent, or other rough-sleepers who were looking to steal the few possessions or scraps of food that I had.

However this one was different, it was a young woman, well wrapped up in warm winter clothes with her long-blonde hair peeking out from under her woolen hat and wearing a pleasant welcoming smile.

The next morning, I was once again forced to sit still as my friends taught me how to put on makeup. “Why do I need to do this again? I don't look that bad,” I said.

I really did look good. I'd gotten a good nights sleep, and I was learning how to comb my hair so it wasn't tangled, or looked like I'd slept in it. And with my new, unwanted, assets, most people wouldn't be looking at my face.

Morning came all too quickly.

Fathers
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I found a canoe. I had taken a job for a few days cleaning out an old shed behind a house on the shore bought by somebody in the city. The realtor said that I could stay in the basement under the house for a few days and earn some cash for emptying the contents of the shed into a dumpster, sweeping the floors and wiping the place down.

James Kirkpatrick was not quite fourteen, small, and trans. Of a timid disposition she was constantly bullied by both girls and boys alike at school and in the neighbourhood where she lived with Keely her nineteen year old sister.

Slowly, Tiberius is getting the hang of things.
One year ago he joined the adventurers Conway, Debtar, and Sinea as a freshly baked mage.
His new friends had been generous with their advice and friendship.
But when the topic of Shroom Dungeon is brought up, they are unusually mum about any details.
They agree on one thing quickly. It was time for Tiberius to delve into Shroom Dungeon.
A dungeon yet undefeated. A place to lose yourself.

Caution: This story contains references to prostitution, murder, and suicide, but there are no graphic depictions of any of them..

I’m George Walda. Shortly after I turned 17, some strange things started happening to me. First it was this recurring dream that I had turned into a pile of goo.