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.
Christmas Day brings further complications as Alex becomes more comfortable
in his silks and satins and dresses. Thank you all, as always for your support. I'm thrilled
that people are enjoying the story and the music links.
This is a true story of how my Mom feminized me as a teenager. She had caught me wearing her pantyhose the summer before seventh grade. I got the surprise of my life the first Sunday of junior high, when she bought me pantyhose and started encouraging me to wear them, and then it was all downhill from there. -- Tracy
I suppose that I should have expected that my first day in the CID office in Loughborough Police Station would follow my previous days through school, university, and the Police College.
“Sorry, son, the juvenile court is in the next building.”
Campfire Stories, Urban Legends, and Ghost Stories.
By
Cerrridwen Circe Whitethorn
Introduction:
Hello, I'm Cerridwen Circe Whitethorn, I'm seventeen and I'm a Junior at Benton Academy. I'm also an Adventure Scout and I've been one since I turned fourteen. The slim pamphlet you're holding in your hand right now as you read these words is the product of four months of investigative journalism and paranormal research.
Eric thought he was living a reasonable life until a series of calamities broke up his marriage, took his job and put his parents in a precarious position.
When Kevin, his tennis partner in High School, reminds him of the great team they made and offers him the opportunity to turn his life around he has a critical decision to make.
I’m quite happy to be back in the safety of my room in the all-girl boarding school I attend.
I have to admit that all the glitz of an Oscar gala can be intoxicating. It’s not everyone that has a mother that gets nominated for an Oscar but now I really need to rest and wind down.
The last year and a half have been crazy, absolutely crazy.
When we arrived at Gatwick, there was a sign with an arrow that just had ‘Turbulence’ on it. It led us to a reserved floor in the North Terminal car park, where attendants were there to show us to a parking area and open the doors for us. Our driver would be back at seven, to wait for our return. Jeff and I certainly looked like we should be there as we followed more signs that took us into the main concourse, through a very quick passport check, finally arriving in a VIP lounge where some had already started mingling.
Umberto didn’t respond to my note. I guess I wasn’t too surprised. Elissa never interacted with the notes I left in Tommy’s game; it was Tommy doing so, though he thought my responses were coming from Elissa at first.
Astian barged into Nathan’s room, mindlessly tossing a giant box onto his bed.
“Well, here’s the last of her clothes.” He said. “She still has a few other things she needs to bring in so don’t be surprised if some stuff appears in your room in the morning. Wouldn’t want to bother you while you’re awake, you know.”
Nathan laid still on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, not having it in him to respond.
The possession of a small number of cows, pigs, sheep and goats in addition to ducks, hens and geese was to the older family members the currency by which they measured true wealth. That the hundreds of doves that lived in the centuries old dovecote and the fish in the lake were a readily available food source was a wonder to them. When they added a couple of hives of bees and a dozen rabbits to keep in a barn they couldn’t imagine a better life.
Defense was a bore. Quirrell gave us a practice test which I finished in just a few minutes. I was contemplating pulling out another book, but I didn't want to get too involved in anything else and have to be interrupted. My nails were still impeccable, and I was enjoying the sparkly black color. I glanced around the room and everyone was still working on their test, except Hermione. She was staring off into the distance, mumbling silently. I'm not sure when I developed the skill, but I've come to the realization that if I focus I can read lips with a high degree of accuracy.
"Hitchhiking? No. Me, hitchhiking? Where? Like, out here, in the desert?"
"Yeah, maybe a dozen miles west of here."
I tried to put it together, but the pieces didn't fit. "Hitchhiking... dressed like this?
Barefoot? With an umbrella? What-- did I drop out of the sky?
Like Mary Poppins, with the umbrella?"
the rouge tasted like cherries, a forbidden sweetness on alan's four-
year-old tongue. His mother's vanity table, a glittering land of
forgotten treasures, had captivated him. He'd slipped on her silky robe,
the feel a stark contrast to his usual rough-and-tumble clothes. The
lipstick, a bright, unapologetic red, felt foreign on his lips, yet
oddly comforting. His mother's gasp shattered the moment. Tears streamed
down his face, not from her anger, but from a dawning realization - he
was different.
The next morning, Genesis, Jesse, and Ramona met up with Rachel again at the Orphanage For All Ages. This time, Rachel had Lanie Evans with her.
"So you're Lanie," Jesse said when he saw Lanie for the first time.
Lanie smiled. "Yes I am," she said.
"It's nice to meet you," said Jesse.
Rachel handed the vial that contained her blood to Genesis. "This is the blood that the doctor drew from me last night," she said. "I hope this'll be enough to finish the serum."
I was making a fresh start. My marriage had ended the year before and I felt uncomfortable in the old family home where we had raised our daughter and I had noticed how old friends were less inclined to call now I was on my own. I was becoming isolated. When my employers had offered me early retirement I almost shouted yes before they had finished the sentence.
The year was 2075. Steve Austin, once a wide-eyed boy gazing at the
stars, was now a seasoned astronaut, encased in a cryogenic pod aboard
the Icarus I. His destination: Proxima b, a distant speck yearning for
human contact. Steve was humanity's pioneer, hurtling through the abyss
in suspended animation, his only companion the ever-vigilant AI, Anya.
The humid air clung to Elias like a second shirt as he pushed through
the tangled undergrowth. Shanda, his girlfriend, was just ahead, her
laughter a melody in the symphony of cicadas. They were on a secluded
resort vacation, and a poorly marked trail had beckoned them deeper into
the jungle than they'd intended.
John, now full-time as Jayne was kept busy organising the design and supervision of the works at Amanda’s, and spending most of what little spare time she had with the Morrisettes, she never really had much chance to consider how she was now living and just got on with things.
David and C.J. left, leaving the six of us. I asked Cecil if he could give it a simple edit and gave him my email address, then got Jeff and Eric to give him their email addresses. I asked the sound man to keep quiet about what he had just seen.
“Don’t you worry, Julia. I could stand in the street and shout that their favourite country copper is really an actor who could rival Olivier, and nobody would believe me.”
They packed up the gear, leaving the four of us. I looked at Jim, who was smiling broadly.
Allison spent her first night as a woman tossing and turning in her sleep, her pain obvious to Angie who was looking after her. Allison did manage to make the best of her Sunday — after updating her doctor on her issues — mainly by spending time with her new ‘friend’ Robert.
With her first night being one of tumultuous rest — due to the faster than expected effects of the medication Dr. Grace prescribed — what will Allison discover upon waking on day three? And what will she not notice, or refuse to accept, that it takes Angie to point out?
After flubbing a powerful incantation, meant to give newly coronated Demon Queens the wisdom of their ancestors, Devilla Satanne awakens to memories of her past life as Jacob Divington, a human from Earth. Having gained a new perspective on life, she quickly comes to a rather horrifying conclusion: she's been a complete and utter brat! No wonder everyone hates her!
And then there's the fact that she's apparently been reincarnated as the villainess of Tower Conquest, a lesbian porn game with a surprisingly intricate plot. One in which the Heroine conquers Dimona Tower, turning Devilla's people against her in the process. In victory, the Heroine brings about a glorious age of peace between demons and humans for the first time in millennia. ...Which actually sounds pretty good for her people, come to think of it. Devilla knows her terrible behavior is beyond forgiveness, but maybe she can still make up for her past mistakes? She just needs to make sure the events of the game unfold correctly. Though there is one little detail she'd like to change - the part where Devilla herself is killed or enslaved!
The new kid is a genius. At thirteen, starting the ninth grade, he just wants to fit in. His Air Force dad moved the family to Alaska and it's a whole new life.
Maybe in a new life he can be his real self, a girl who decides to call herself Marcia to make it more different from her old name.
A new life means new friends, new challenges. Like dealing with bullies and boys who think she's pretty. There is drama—a death in the family, danger in her father's job as a pilot, romantic complications—can Marcia deal with all the changes?
Here are eighteen stories of lumberjacks and bodyguards, fishermen and drag racers, plumbers and financiers who took a risk and fell in love with someone unexpected. They're a lot of fun and one or two of them might make you laugh-out-loud or even get a little teary-eyed. You should take that risk -- after all, romance is worth it.
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Joyce Melton
1001 Third St.
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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