The Bedroom

Penultimate

Apologies for the slight delay.

Hope
By Samantha Jay
 © December 2012

The Struggle

A stray hair found its way down into her eyes, and she swept aside, tucking it behind her ear.

Si(gh)lliness: Send In The Clones

"When one creates a song, one should remember to get one's song copyrighted" he mused, "-wait! Is 'copyrighted' a word? And does one damage oneself's credibility when one uses 'one' too often?"

The Key to Love

The key to love is understanding
The ability to comprehend not only the spoken words
But those unspoken gestures, the little things that say

This is my first attempt to put into words what I really need to get out. I appreciate any comments you may have.

For My Son’s Sake

Author's note: This is based on the news story out of Germany of a man who decided to wear skirts because his son enjoyed them. Let me know what you think of it, okay?

It started when my son was still a toddler. He developed a fascination with women’s clothes, especially dresses and skirts, and soon started asking to wear one.

After some thinking, I got him skirts and dresses, and he seemed very happy in them.

Mirror image.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

I had had a shower, dried down and put on a pair of Y fronts. Then I glanced in the mirror and froze.....

So this is my first work of "fiction" and I don't have an editor so Please be kind it's based loosely on a dream I had, and I am writing it in chapters because I don't know how the whole thing will play out yet but I felt the need to post it

Andrea was worried. The roast in the oven was almost ready but she was not sure that they would like it. She was currently rubbing her hands back and forth, a nervous gesture of hers, as she waited for the roast to finish. She wondered for the 20th time if she should make a salad or maybe some desert.

Being that the trans support group meeting was to be held at her house for the first time she was understandably very worried. Would they think her place to masculine? To overly feminine? Was the bath towels clean? Did the girls rooms look okay? Would anyone think she was abusing them?

Was chatting with Dorothy over the phone. Something we do almost daily. When a rather innocent comment got my imagination going.

Of course this being bigcloset that little spark got a bit of a twist.

I had had a really long day. It started at 9 this morning with bad coffee, I apparently forgot to remove the old filter and just added new grounds in my sleep not quite awake state. Bad idea.

Warm Milk, A Jaci and Dottie Story

Xenomorphic

Xenomorphic (ze-no-mor-fic) - To have an unusual form - Online dictionary

Okay, the joke has gone on far enough, and you guys can drop it. I did NOT turn into a girl last night!

Come on, you actually expect me to believe that kind of story?

Where would I get an outfit like that? A full evening gown, stockings, heels, and what not, I mean come on, I dont think so.

I did NOT have my tongue down Billy’s throat, that’s disgusting!

I never kissed another boy, ever!

Oh come on, just let it go, I’m not going to buy this.

Kelly Goes to College

As hard as it is to believe now, I was a pretty average guy in high school.

I wasnt a jock, or a nerd, or anything special. I just ... was.

Until my college application got screwed up, and changed my life.

See, even though we call this a college town, there have been actually two colleges as long as anyone can remember.

Col Mathews’ school started off as a military college, and then expanded to cover any subject that might make boys into men, but Miss Andrews’ College for girls remained pretty traditional, at least in most respects.

One Day at the Bridal Shop

It had been a pretty normal day for me during my shift at the bridal shop, until late in the afternoon, when a small group of girls came in.

They were obviously a bridal party, with the bride-to-be giggling and blushing as her girlfriends teased her with different gowns.

Then she turned the tables on them by throwing the most God-awful bridesmaid outfits possible, an assault they took with giggly grace.

Happy Birthday, Dorothy

Author’s note: This is sort of an antidote to my story, “The old man at the window.” Please join me in this little look into a possible future for some old broad named Dorothy Colleen....

It was Dorothy’s birthday, and the whole extended care facility was buzzing with anticipation.

Look I have no interest in this type of story

Okay fine! But I am doing this under protest!

I was huddled in the corner of the room as usual. I heard the door open and someone entered.

"Jessie?" I know that voice.

"James?" hope beyond hope.

"Yes Jessie its me."came the gentle reply of my former dormmate.

I got up and looked for him. There was James Patterson just in the entrance of my prison cell. I ran to him and clutched him like a liferaft of hope.

"Gaaa what is with that girl!" Tanya was frustrated again.

She does this to me everytime we talk! It's not fair! Rachel is so much a girl it's not even funny but she believes that just because she 'fathered' a child that makes her a man. Yeah right mother is more like it. She is all depressed because it was mother's day and nobody called her mother. I can see how it is killing her inside. I even insisted multiple times she was a mother but she just argues.

Then she starts on this 'The only one that thinks your a boy is you everyone else shes a girly girl trying to be a tomboy"

maren's prayer...
for those who wait with patience...

Cindy’s Choices

I’m sitting here, at my computer, trying to figure out what I should do. Maybe if I write down what happened I can make sense of it, and make my decision. My name is Cindy Carmichael, and I’m twenty-five years old. After a false start, I thought I had found my “prince Charming”, and that life simply couldnt be better.

Now I’ve learned it was all a lie.

Understanding Rachel

The phone rang, making Nancy Carmichael jump. The old woman glanced at the call display, and then shouted out, “Rachel! Its for you!”

A moment later another person bustled into the room, took up the phone, and started to talk.

Nancy shook her head. “Who would have thought I would have a teenage girl living in my house at my age? Especially when the girl was born a boy?”

Rachel just smiled at her mother, and kept talking.