A Family Reunion

Chapter One

Anne Marie Taylor sat on the train from London to Manchester, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as the train rumbled along the tracks. The rhythmic clatter was almost soothing, a constant in a world that felt anything but steady. She glanced at her phone, scrolling through the texts from her mum, Diana. Each one was filled with warmth and excitement, a stark contrast to the chilly silence she’d faced from her family over the past four years.

Chapter Six – The Laneway Cruise Lounge

This is a glimpse into a day in my life as a fetishistic transvestite/crossdresser when I visit the local cruise lounge prowling for company. To some extent the story explains how I do what I do and why I do it. It is a snapshot in time of a day in my life. Please heed the warnings regarding explicit content. This story contains non-explicit images of me.

The end of the Girly Girl Experiment

It's been almost 15 years since I first tried to share my girly side to the world.

And while I can’t say it’s been a total failure, the blunt fact is that it is coming to an end, and overall I accomplished very little that remains.

I tried heels - until my knees said no thank you.

I tried makeup - and only ever looked like a clown - a male clown at that.

Earrings? Couldn’t keep them in my ears, finally the holes closed.

Not everyone will approve of you as you go along your own gender journey. You'll change and grow in many ways they may disapprove of. But it's not your job to please them.

Captions:

Panel 1:
Idiot: "This is why I don't like being your friend anymore. You've changed."
Lari: "Do you mean the tits, or the complete shift of my beliefs and worldview?"

Panel 2:
Lari: "It's called growing. I've done both."

Let's just say my closet door was made of thin cellophane or transparent glass...

Captions:

Panel 1:
Lari: "I wasn't THAT obvious in high school, was I?"

Panel 2:
Pointing to all the OBVIOUS things about her being trans in high school, like: The hair all the way down her back, the obvious bra strap, and the boymoder hoodie.

The Story Behind...
A Different Pair of Queens

***

Um, not that anyone asked... but... just in case...

The Hypnosis Game Copyright 2022 by Heather Rose Brown

When I was around eight years old, a friend (who was sorta adopted as a cousin) stayed with my family for a few weeks over the summer. We played a lot of games while we she was there, but my favorite was the one where we'd pretend to hypnotize each other.

This is the story of what happened when it was my turn to be hypnotized.

=-=-=

Idol

Idol - 1977- Age 8
The road to Fame is hard, No one asks Dakota what he wants.

The brat in the back seat throws her weight around...

Idol

Idol - 1974 - Age 5
Dakota would rather have a friend than fame

While I've written a couple of stories that dealt with suicide, I've never had the nerve to describe my own experience. Until now. Please ... please be careful, before reading this story, and make sure it's something you feel you can handle. Knowing other people are okay is a lot more important to me than knowing this story is read.

=-=-=

I was born on March 17, 1979, in upstate New York, to Irish Roman Catholic parents. My dad is completely Irish on his mother's side plus Irish and Pakistani on his father's side. My mom's heritage is Irish along with many other nationalities from ranging from the Americas to Asia. She has often said that she is "Heinz 57", and she's not far off.

I was born on March 17, 1979, in upstate New York, to Irish Roman Catholic parents. My dad is Irish and my mom's heritage is Irish along with many other nationalities ranging from the Americas to Asia. She has often said that she is "Heinz 57", and she's not far off.

This is about molestation but, as you will see, there are no vulgar words or violence, so I would rate it “G” (for General Audiences).(Note: changed my mind when I uploaded it and rated it "Mature Subjects PG")

Toddy Notrope

Little Toddy Notrope looked like any other little boy.

Yes, he had blond hair, but it wasnt long. Nobody ever mistook him for a girl, or called him pretty.

Maybe he giggled sometimes, but so do a lot of little boys, and he also loved to follow behind his older brother or sit and watch wrestling, just like any other little boy would.

Besides imitating his brother, little Toddy Notrope loved to read, and loved to talk.

Boy, did he ever like to talk.

“Gonna be a lawyer one day” His grandfather said.

One can never know if what we pick up could be dangerous. Here we find in this autobiography, a person who experiences this first hand through his initial transformation.

Special thanks to Monique S for proofreading.