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.
Caught dressed in a little girl's dress, Alex must explain himself to his
judgmental mother. He also finds himself befriended by the teenager who lives down
the hill and has to make some decisions about how he is going to proceed from here.
In this chapter, Emily navigates her first day back at school after a difficult suspension, facing anxious stares, whispered judgments, and the lingering tension with her classmate Trevor. With encouragement from her foster mom, Mrs. Blake, and the support of her friend Jasmine, Emily begins to reclaim her confidence, discovering unexpected moments of connection and strength. As the day unfolds, she finds herself adjusting to a life that feels increasingly like home, both at school and with her foster family.
What would you do for your career? What would you do for your best friend?
Andy and Dawn by Angela Rasch A DopplerPress Original Buy on Kindle!
Andrea Leonard believes that television is where great actors go to die. A star of stage and screen, she fervently objects when her agent wants her to take the lead role in a television series.
Don Champp's life is in neutral. He isn't sure what he wants to do with his future, or what he wants to be... or who. When an agent tells him they have the perfect role for him, he takes the card and tries out for the part without any expectation of it turning into something more.
My alarm sounded at 5am, which was standard on a workday. I flapped at it and managed to shut if off after three clumsy swipes. Alarm silenced, I twisted my head round to find the other side of the bed vacant. This was strange because my wife, Tessa, was not usually an early riser. Oh well, hopefully she was downstairs preparing me some breakfast.
CHAPTER 36
The double act had dropped me off at the North Terminal, ready for the Emirates flight. I had dumped my hold bag the previous evening, so it was just a matter of working my way step by step through security, and then switching my brain off while waiting for the call to a gate, then repeating the process at said gate, lined up in banks of chairs with backs that sloped too much for comfort.
I was a tradesman when I was a man. I was a roofing contractor. I knew that when I became a woman I would have to give up that job. That is not because women can’t be tradespeople - and we all know that transwomen can do anything women can – it was because I wanted to do something feminine. I thought that it was important to me to leave that rugged part of my life behind me.
“What?! How is that possible?… He has a bodysuit too?”
“Maybe he has, but it likely is not that. You see… I have seen Puglisi many times. There are at least three different ones. Not counting the one we met. All are razor sharp but have different appearances, different mannerisms, speak differently, think differently…”
“Huh?!… Do you mean that several people share his identity? All claim to be him? And in this way can do several things at once, be present at different places at the same time, show up in front of someone who knows one of them and pretend to be someone else…?”
As the year moved towards another Christmas, Lena and I didn’t have to worry about the jobs, as we now had enough of our own money to live on. We didn’t go mad, but worked on the jobs that came in, keeping the income ticking over. With the work that Helen Harding and her constituents were giving us, we went to see Hassam’s friend in the auto trade.
Two years ago Stacy visited a newly discovered dimension, with his parents, on an adventurous summer vacation. He was astounded by how the other dimension's technology was decades ahead of his own! During his senior year he applied to Emerson University in the city he had visited. He was excited and hopeful of learning more about their technology as an exchange student, and hopefully bring it back to his own world. (Story set in the Diaper Dimension)
Mantra has underestimated her opponents and has been captured by an alternate-world version of her friend Warstrike. The latter seems to be leading a gang of ultra-villains in a ruined version of Los Angeles. She has a right to expect the worst, but the more she learns about what's happening in this alternate Los Angeles, the worse it sounds.
Alright, so at the reminder and prompting of a fan, I am now posting this and some other stories here with more frequency. I made a promise to years ago, then promptly fell of the face of the planet for a bit. I'm sort of back now, so better late than never? Please enjoy.
“Are you regretting changing schools and majors?” she asked.
“No. I still think this is the right thing to do. I’ve been volunteering
at the hospital when I have time to spare from studying, and the more
I do that, the more sure I am that I want to be a nurse.”
“Jack, look out!” Nick throws the survival knife she had in her hand and throws it into the guy’s back.
Jack scrambles out of the way, as the guy falls forward towards her. There was a gash on the side of Jack’s right leg where she had been slashed by one of their attackers. Just as Jack moved, a guy managed to get close to her.
Before Chris could say anything, Amy reached past the shower curtain with a bra dangling from her hand. It was reminiscent of the panties he had been gifted and subsequently pressured to put on–pink and lace, without being sheer. If her words hadn’t been enough, the sight of the bra was quite telling in terms of how serious she was about the ten minute penalty.
He rejected the absurd idea right away. “Amy, I’m not-”
We had been on the A3 for a while and then turned off just before Guildford. He must have been reading my mind.
“It’s no good seeing where we go, Maxine. We have been using tonight’s venue for a few months and will find somewhere else for when we next meet. We don’t stay anywhere for more than six months.”
Red was just going to visit her sick grandmother; she wasn't expecting the big bad wolf.
“Agent Hunter, what an appropriate name,” Chief Rissara hummed thoughtfully as she stood over the business card that was nearly as big as she was and examined it. “Just a moment, allow me to try…”
“Why don’t we go tomorrow and fetch your things? There is no sense in you paying rent, we fit well together. And in Sunday, I would love to teach you some climbing.” It was Friday evening and we had just returned from work.
“Are you sure?” There was a bit of conscience in the voice of Carlo.
I just thought that pushing him all the way would finally put an end to this whole crossdressing thing. I had tolerated his crossdressing for our entire marriage but with the kids having left the family home it was as if he had a license to wear women’s underwear constantly, and to act like a woman in the kitchen. It seemed that he had only been constrained by the thought of our children learning of his perversion. My opinion did not matter.
Life has some certainties, birth and death of course, but the rest is a mix of Minestrone and Spaghetti, some of which we have no direct influence over. We can however decide whether we want Parmesan or other seasoning, we can give Gnochi a try, doesn't mean we'll like it but at least we'll know. Gaby has reached just such a point in her life, she knows she likes Pizza, she's not averse to Spaghetti or Lasagne but is Gnochi for her? The Gnochi in this case is doing the singing with BlauHase on a more serious level, as a 'hobby' its fine but could this be a change of career? Well you don't find out without trying so that's just what our heroine is about to find out in this, the 27th book of the Gaby saga.
The appointment was for nine on Tuesday, so I rang Hassam to book him from eight until twelve. He told me that he had his car back and it was now a lot quieter. Lena wanted to know how my weekend was, so I told her that I had been invited to the dinner on Saturday evening and met Barry Bishop, AKA DI Abbott, and had a frank discussion with him.
“I guess the bodysuit produces it like making hair and beard from our hair and skin cells. Or like your wetness during sex. But I don’t think one can get pregnant from it.”
“I very much hope I cannot,” I noted. We both laughed. “Though your stamina is amazing.”
“Bodysuit’s stamina. I am wiry for a girl, I hope, but no way to do that for so long without its help… What amazed me is that you got four orgasms. I have listened to a lot of sex – not by my choice – and I am yet to see a man get more than three in a row. Especially so strong ones, and only two days after having plenty of sex.”
“I guess their strength is due to the bodysuit. The first time I masturbated in it, the orgasm was just a bit stronger than otherwise, but since then it is stronger every time. I was afraid that the bodysuit somehow turns me into a real girl, but it looks like it tunes how it transmits the feelings, learning with the time how to achieve the most… And I also guess that this night it was your skill at sex too.”
“I can’t help but know what makes a girl feel good,” Carlo smiled. “And, before you ask, I felt great too. Way different than when I have sex as a girl, but as a whole even better…”
When the children were all in the equivalent of middle school or high school in the education program we had adapted for life on New Mars, when kids on Earth might have had sex ed, we introduced them all at once to the breeding program.
Two years ago Stacy visited a newly discovered dimension, with his parents, on an adventurous summer vacation. He was astounded by how the other dimension's technology was decades ahead of his own! During his senior year he applied to Emerson University in the city he had visited. He was excited and hopeful of learning more about their technology as an exchange student, and hopefully bring it back to his own world. (Story set in the Diaper Dimension)
I was relieved when Larry and the head cheerleader drifted apart. I should have been concerned when Bob asked Larry for a date. The truth was that I was just too curious to see what would happen I just aided and abetted instead. Larry was even lovelier that night. They left and about a minute to midnight I heard Bob’s car drive up again. Of course I had prepared an unobtrusive view of the porch. Yes, there was a good-night kiss. Not a bad one. Really not a bad one.
I woke up Thursday morning with a queasy feeling in my gut. I figured it was nerves: today was my first day back to school. I hoped taking a shower would help me get settled. I did my business in the bathroom and felt a little more awake. That seemed to help.
At the sound of those taunting words, I spun around incautiously to find Karen grinning at me. I had forgotten the tendency of the skirts I was wearing to fly outwards and upwards at the slightest provocation, and her grin broadened into a leer as I strove to calm my frothy layers and restore what little modesty remained to me.
Nathan observed as the demon king ruthlessly struck down his comrades, each one collapsing in a pool of their own blood. He too was rapidly losing vitality. In a desperate attempt, he endeavored to cast a spell that might stop the flow of blood, yet his dwindling strength rendered him unable to complete the incantation. Overwhelmed with despair, he listened to the anguished cries of his fellow soldiers-those who had placed their trust in him, fought alongside him, and believed in his leadership time after time. His senses began to blur, and he could feel the encroaching shadow of death.
Romance...in Disguise
15 Tales of Transgender Unmasking! by Maryanne Peters Now on Kindle
Another volume of Transgender Romance from Maryanne Peters! Fifteen more stories with Mostly Happy Endings around the theme of disguise or concealment. Why would our lovers hide their identities?
To lure out a serial killer in Bait. To elude authorities in Border Crosser and Stowaway. To escape an angry mob in Sikh and Sanctuary. To avoid a custody battle in Running. Or to infiltrate a criminal organization in A Sicario Returns; a girls' school in St. Beatrice; a foreign power in Subversives; or just a bed in Her Roommate. And more disguises and reasons for concealment in six more stories!
All with Maryanne's deft twists and trademark happy endings. Mostly.
Also
The path of true love never did go smooth one old saying has it, but then again, all's well that ends well—mostly.
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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