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?

“This purse is just great, Lexie!”

“Umm, I like it too. Convenient, you can carry it on your shoulder. And, umm, I like these styles…”

“I was wondering when you will dare to show some femininity,” Lu smiled. “What you will say, Mommy?”

Masks XXVIII: Old School

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Five

The waiting room was mostly empty. The receptionist waved me over, "Your mother needed to go start dinner. She said your father would be here in about a half hour." She glanced over at Dr. Adelaide's door before continuing softly, "She had you petrify her."

I must have looked shocked as I nodded.

Chapter 3

It wasn’t far from the track to the turning, and I stopped at the gate and reached behind me, finding the button in my bag, under a lot of money. I pressed the button and the gate opened. I drove slowly to the house, now surrounded by Rollers, Bentleys, and big Mercedes. I parked the Aston, and we got out.

“Do you think we can put the money in the boot, I feel a bit vulnerable with it in my bag?”

“Sure thing, there’s a button to press.”

My Friend Græme

Græme was to all appearances a villain as a young man. Poverty stricken, he stole to eat and to put rags on his back to avoid freezing to death. To me he was always a decent man, for he hurt none and always had done his best to help all and anyone he’d ever met. He’d spent his life being the archetypal Good Samaritan.

Part Four

The next few minutes were another blur of ‘logic.’

Not only was Chris outnumbered, but girls just had a way of explaining things and connecting points in a way that made it nearly impossible to undo layers stacked against him. He was already wearing panties, so there wasn’t a lot of harm in wearing them for a little while longer. And it clearly made Amy ‘feel better,’ so going along with it meant being a good cousin. Besides, boys shouldn’t be scared of wearing pink. And on, and on, and on.

Over the next week I saw Aaron twice, but between me and Sarah things cooled down a bit, not surprising really. She very much likes her guy, and to be honest I don’t blame her. We did talk about it in a bit of detail and she admitted she thinks she’s a little bi and she found herself attracted to me, but is very aware that she prefers, well, men. Which is where the conversation turned to me and what I liked admitting that yes, I think I am a little bi and enjoyed our make out sessions, but when I kissed Aaron for the first time, well, something clicked inside me.

University was a financial struggle, my parents money was all tied up in Dad’s business, we were not well off cash-wise, there had been no legacies from my grandparents to subsidise my continuing education. Rather than enjoying the rich social life of the college, I had to work my way through a series of low paid bar and restaurant work to keep my head above water. That is until, on the way back after my early morning fitness run, I saw a sign posted on the door of a local nightclub. ’Bar staff wanted, immediate start, well above average wages plus tips.’

I am deleting this story.

I am not writing this story any longer.

I was attempting to use Sudowrite to speed up my creative process and someone got pretty nasty about it.

Do Better people.

Do better.