We spent the next two days finalising our preparation for the match against St. Mary's. The county cup was an 8 team tournament, meaning that this was a quarter final match. Win, and we'd be in the semi finals, and another win there would put us in the final.

Despite my heroics in the first training session, where I'd scored a hat-trick and felt unbeatable, I was beginning to see how playing in the girls team would be no walk in the park.

Me and My Mus

The other day I was loafing in front of the TV when Andrea, my muse visited me. It had been some time since last. We had spent our vacations at different locations. Don’t get me wrong, I like Andrea but we have no need to crowd each other. However, I like chatting with Andrea even when I’m not going to write a story. That is what happened the other day. I like female companionship. As everyone knows all muses are female.

As we were talking Andrea happened to mention “when I was a little boy …”. Ooops!

Andrea coloured up. The cutest pink imaginable.

CHAPTER 35
It was a twisty road getting to meet the real Alys, for while she had known herself as long as she had been self-aware, the rest of us had to dismantle almost everything we had known or assumed we knew about her, and her fear of rejection kept its teeth in her for so very long a time. It was hard work indeed, but that metaphor of bends on a road became my mantra.

Chapter 5

When I got home and turned on my computer, I had an email from the Islington Inspector. He wanted me to pop in and pick up my communications on Friday. I answered that I would be there. I looked for the Saturday weather on the computer and saw that it would be cold.

Winter was arriving at last. I looked in my wardrobe to see what I had to wear, seeing that I didn’t want to be recognised. I chose a red shirt and a long black winter skirt, which I would wear with leggings and long boots. I had a heavy greatcoat that I could use.

Photo by Anna Shvets: https://www.pexels.com

Preface

Every so often I check the Retro Classics Page here at BC just to see if I missed a good story. Today there was an entry for Emma Ann Tate's Software Update. Since this story continues my own Reprogramming Your Life, I was interested in the comment.

Now, naturally I couldn't just read the one comment, so I read them all. One by Patricia Marie Allen that included the phrase that inspired and became the title of this piece. When someone asks me 'where do you get your ideas?' they don't know what a can of worms they might be opening. Thanks to all of you for the inspiration.

Miss Snell dropped me off just outside the local bowling alley at around 5pm. I asked her if she was joining us, but she said that this was just for the team and she didn't want to 'cramp our style'.

"Enjoy yourself, and I'll pick you up later. Just give me a call when you're ready." And with that, she left.

Part Five

“You’ll wear your panties all weekend. They were a gift to you, remember? And like I just said–when you wear something, they’re yours.”

“I’ll wear my panties all weekend,” Chris echoed. He mirrored the emphasis in an attempt to show that it didn’t bother him, but couldn’t help but lightly blush at the possessive phrase nonetheless. It sounded worse out loud than it did in his head. And the fact that he was bottomless save for the pink, feminine underwear didn’t particularly help when it came to playing it cool.

The next day I was at the pitch with Miss Snell around an hour before my soon-to-be teammates would start arriving. I had already been transformed into Tabitha earlier in the morning: my hair was put into a high ponytail and I was wearing a pink thong and a pink Nike sports bra. Over this I was wearing a pair of white football shorts and a Manchester United football top. I had tried to protest about the top, being a Manchester City fan, but Miss Snell insisted. The top was hers, and she said "no niece of mine is wearing the enemy's kit", with a wink and big grin.

“Natalie: Do you remember our visit to our parents and Kate? Do you remember when I talked to them, Mom specifically? Do you remember what she said to me? She told me about you, and how in elementary school, you cried because you thought you were ugly. She said she tells that story every time you call yourself ugly. EVERY TIME.

Nathan, how many times has that happened? Why do you think you’re ugly?”

We spent several hours that evening talking about what had just happened and what was going to happen over the coming weeks. The entire time I was sat wearing the leggings and sports bra Miss Snell had asked me to wear. It was all incredibly surreal, but undoubtedly exciting. I could feel my penis getting aroused during the initial stages of our conversation, but luckily my gaff kept it from springing loose. After about 15 minutes, that initial excitement died down, and the whole situation began to feel completely normal.

Jack O' Lanterns, Moonlight, and Magic
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
Chapter Two: The Perfect Costume

The moment I pushed open the door and stepped into the shop was the moment I felt like I'd been transported to a macabre wonderland. Racks of costumes and masks as far as the eye could see. Scattered around the sales floor were macabre animatronics in the form of moving witches with green skin, long, hooked noses with straw like hair. Robotic werewolves leaned and howled. Fake blood oozed down the wall. And a loud cackle echoed through the store.

Our swift and unexpected takeover of Varik's clan sent shockwaves across the planet. The sudden and decisive nature of our victory left the other clans in a state of bewilderment and fascination. How could an obscure pirate clan, seemingly out of nowhere, so thoroughly dismantle the most formidable clan on the planet?

March 15th, 3040

The Wandering Heart
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

The heart is a curious thing. I am not talking about the anatomical organ, but about the feelings that grow and subside, that sometimes burn like fire and sometimes just give us a warm glow, and sometimes go cold as ice.

But how can you fall in love with a man who has abused you? How can you fall in love with a man who has mutilated and maimed you? A man who took away your future as a man and castrated you, and modified you to be his sexual plaything – how can you love such a man?