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.
Now that the truth has been revealed, Quinn and Ricky have a lot to deal with.
Each has their own struggles as they try to figure out what is best for themselves.
Alex must deal with being outed by a well meaning guest. Christmas continues
to surprise everyone at The Haven. I wanted so badly to have this done by Christmas,
but real life kept getting in the way. Nothing bad - just a lot of things happening
at once. Thank you to everyone who has been following the story!
Now for the Final Act of this story...
Thanks to Malady for going through this after I spent a sleepless night writing this one.
I’m really not sure why I did it, but I was young at the time.
I rode into town after being paid. We all did. Anyone who spent so
much time on the trail had a tendency to want some time in the
company of the opposite sex.
And, while you were waiting for said company, you might as well
loosen up a bit. Most of the brothels were upstairs of a saloon, so
it was only natural to spend some time in both areas.
I was generally known as Cookie, which was not a problem as I did the
cooking for our boys.
I’m a little older than most of them, except the trail boss who’s
known only as Stumpy. It’s kinda strange, him being the boss, as
somewhere in the past he’d lost his right leg. The legend is he
had a run-in with a rattlesnake at some point. Nobody seems to know
the true story but him and one other person, and Stumpy isn’t
telling anyone who that is.
Stupid me, I’m not great at telling stories. I kinda get things
out of order in the way I tell them.
Let’s go back to that time back when Austin was Boss.
As is usual in my stories, I'd like to thank Malady for his help in editing and ideas.
I'd also like to thank Melanie in helping me get this posted!
Verity sat on her recliner, her feet up slightly. She lived alone ever since her parents had died two years before. She had a brother. Well, a half-brother, but she had neither seen nor spoken to him since her parents died.
As was usual, she was lonely, especially on this day, as it was Christmas Eve. She got up and went to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and instead of creamer, she poured a bit of eggnog in with the brew. She considered something stronger, but even though only she would know, she wasn’t yet of the legal drinking age, and it wasn’t like she had any alcohol on hand.
She put the nog back in her fridge, then returned to her recliner.
She lived in an apartment that wasn’t lavish by any means. She needed to save as much money as she could, so whatever was left each month after basic necessities was put into a savings account. Once it was large enough, it would fund her needed surgery.
As she sipped the coffee, she thought about the events that had brought her to the present. Her mother had played around a lot in high school and she kept it up as she went to college. She had been the stereotypical proud cheerleader, who felt no one but the football team was worth her time.
Annika sat on the park bench, nursing her hot chocolate, flurries gently drifting down around her.
The last year went through her mind. 365 days ago, she resolved to fully take control, to live her life. It had started so well, so full of hope and possibility.
It was colder than he had expected, the sleet steadily hardening into snow, but Ken had endured worse. There was a hedgerow running between two of the fields which he thought might work for the night, and part of it looked to be hazel, or at least something with similar leaves, which the shrub had clung to despite the nastiness of the late Autumn and Winter. It had all looked so simple when he was little, the Boy Scout books almost rhapsodising about hatchets and straight staffs as a ridge pole, but walking around with an axe these days would get him lifted by the plod in no time.
Toni’s met Tim again, and been introduced to his friend. And all the rest, Natasha, Sally and Jess, have met Tim and Tim’s friend Mouse. No alarm bells are ringing for anyone and it’s all been a lot of fun. In fact Tim has been quite sweet, with him and Toni exchanging kisses, and Mouse has even bought a table-load of food, after being very picky about his sandwich.
Now it’s back to Tim and Mouse’s apartment, where Mouse says he’ll cook them dinner if they stick around. But does Toni really know what to expect? Going back to the man you’re kissing’s apartment, even if he’s apologised for being too forward? And it might not have occurred to Toni, so doll-eyed is she, but the others are really more interested in why Mouse is called Mouse, and what his deal with food is, rather than the two sickening lovebirds making googly eyes at each other.
This is not a resolution story but rather the first story aimed at beginning to fulfill my resolution to finish stories I have started.
It expands and hopefully makes it better.
Please note that the protagonist's changing names and pronouns reflect the wonder, confusion, and evolution of everyone involved.
Author's note: Here it is, my first story here, originally started as a New Year's Contest entry, but as the story played out, I felt I'd be truncating it too much to get it to 5,000 words. Thanks for the encouragement and inspiration, getting me to move from reader to writer!
'Til You Make It
By Marissa Lynn
September 17
"Dammit! I can feel it right there, but, crap. Something's not right. I'm not right."
We went back to the caravan to get the sleep we needed. It had been a very big day. Mum wanted some pictures of the three of us before we changed. She laughed and said that we looked old enough to go out to work.
Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.
Spencer walks around the mall with his friends. Only Jason and Greg knew his secret: He wished he was a girl instead of a boy. They caught him one day wearing a pair of panties and pantyhose to school. His parents didn’t even know he wished he was born a girl. They just thought he liked dressing up as a girl. For Halloween, he dressed up as a sexy anime girl from one of his favorite anime shows.
It was all because of Heather. It was her party after all and her idea as an additional element to the usual games, drinking and eating excesses that constitute our New Year’s Eve party.
As the night entered the small hours, she decided she might as well open her e-reader and wait for dawn, which was why she found herself waking from the faint memory of a dream as ever-elusive sleep had finally drawn her under.
What do you do when you look 7 years old, but you're actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen's entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn't the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her how she looks, 7 years old?
No words were spoken for the rest of the trip. It was silent the whole way back, but this was a warm, comfortable silence, much unlike the tense, awkward one on those first few trips to the mall at the start of the summer. Nothing more needed to be said, a feeling both Sierra and Elise knew well.
Sierra gazed out her window, watching the sun begin to set in the horizon. She hadn't realized they’d been out for so long. It was getting all too easy to lose track of time these days.
It’s 2054. I’d been out with our lady’s group on a pseudo off road ride on a trail up a 3400 meter mountain when we encountered an old slide area that seemed smooth enough but strewn with potato sized rocks on a rideable incline. My front wheel power was on my right hand and my rear wheel power on my left. I had not fallen yet, and my riding suit would protect me from injury if I did. My helmet still had enough power to keep my blood Ox levels up, so I felt confident that I could stay with the group.
The moment Becky Stirling heard the voices in the distance, there were two things she instantly knew. Firstly, that she recognized the voices, which may have seemed strange as she had never actually heard them before. Secondly, she realized she had to leave. Immediately.
Life can be tough if you're an artist, and I don't want to hear any agita about whether a potter is an artist or craftsman. Craftsperson. Whatever. A painter uses his hands to paint, a musician uses her hands to play; I use my hands to sculpt wet clay into interesting shapes. Then I use my hands to paint them.
She knew how to treat him - exactly as he deserved...
He made his living meeting women and giving them what they wanted. But what did the woman in the Mercedes want and would he be willing to give it? And if he did, what would he become.
An erotic tale of lust, greed and transformation on the Gilded Coast as a young man looking for a sugar mama finds out what life is like as an object of desire.
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For Stanman: "He was always there to offer a kind word and encouragement."
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Robyn Lovelace
My life partner,
my life's love, my friend"
-- Karen J. Taylor
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memory of lost friends
and particularly for
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