When I get on the bus, I don’t know what I expect but hardly anyone pays any attention. These students are in various stages of self entertainment. Most are on their phones. Some have books out.
There are a few empty seats and fewer empty rows. I pick one of the empty rows and settle in. The bus hisses before it’s on it’s way. I haven’t had any time to myself to process and I won’t find that here either because a boy jumps in the seat beside me.
I only had to wait a few seconds before the sharp sting to the paddle cracking across my backside flooded into my bottom. The first stroke of the paddle took my breath away and caused the tiny hairs on my arms to stand straight up. Coughing, I crooked out.
“One Ma’am,” I said as took a deep breath and waited for the next one. I did not need to wait long for the second one either for soon the paddle cracked my bottom again. Sending another wave of sting rolling into my bottom. The second strike once again took my breath away, but I forced myself to count again. “Two ma’am.”
When I opened my eyes I saw Mary’s face. She smiled at me. For a moment I had no idea what happened. I did not know where I was or what time of the day it was.
“Babe, are you okay?” Mary asked me sounding concerned.
My mom, Mary and I got up simultaneously and all three of us walked over to hug my dad. I was so proud to be his daughter. A little more crying happened and after a short while, we settled back down.
“Okay girls. We need to get ready for shopping soon. Mary, I will give you some money too so you don’t feel treated unfairly.” mom announced.
“Hooray! I am not going to say no to that .” Mary said excitedly.
“What about your friend Samantha, Riley. Maybe she wants to hang out at the mall with us?” mom asked me.
It certainly wasn’t what I expected.
A little over 2 months ago, I died in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. I’d convinced my friends that I wasn’t that drunk and that I'd be able to drive home no problem. I never made it.
I don’t know what I expected to happen after that but it certainly wasn’t waking up the very next morning.
I love Silk and Satin and, and, and, and
Title changed from 'Material Wealth'.
I love clothes – not just dresses and underwear. Therefore the raw material is interesting too. Lace & Leather, Silk & Satin and the rest. Enticing. Intoxicating.
This story is my second story taking place in the Forgotten universe. I thought it would be fun to explore a time where the religion and superhumans were interconnected in a time not well explored in the superhero genre. Thus, while they are still superhumans, they are called Blessed during this time period and their abilities (superpowers) are called Blessings. However, I also decided to introduce a rather unknown aspect of Forgotten's history in this story. I had planned to introduce it Forgotten around the chapter 20 mark, but decided, why not here. Also, I'm aware that a large portion of the story is not written in the 18th-century style, nor do I actually take the time to write a British accent out. This is because I don't know how to. if I plan to rewrite it in the future, I will try to address these issues then, but for now, enjoy the story as is.
Two weeks ago, Jay's secret was discovered at the mall. Instead of running and hiding from it like usual, he decided to embrace it. Now he's about to reveal her true self and is terrified that people won't accept her for who she truly is.
Hi everyone, Debbie V here. As you may or may not know, Kris and I were very good friends, and we’d often share snippets of chapters for each other to look over, or sometimes just for fun. These snippets below are some of those that I felt deserved to be shared with the audience that loved her work so much. These are all her own words- I haven’t altered or added anything beyond a quick spellcheck. The stories are presented in rough chronological order and as such may overlap with previous ‘continuing adventures’.
We walked up to my parents who were still standing at the door. I was determined to get this issue resolved. I felt confident and brave. I loved wearing my girlie clothes because it felt so natural. Well, technically they were Alyssa’s old clothes. The skirt and top fit me perfectly as if they were made for me. Of course, I loved the black tights the most. This was me. Riley.
“Let’s get going, ladies.” Alyssa said seeming excited. I could feel butterflies in my stomach. All three of us looked fabulous together. We decided to take Alyssa’s car.
Santa is no longer the merrymaker we all remember. After his wife has left him, Santa turns to alcohol to fill the void in his heart. It’s Samson the elf’s job to keep him from doing anything that would get him into trouble, but when the old man accidentally consumes a mysterious potion, Samson finds his job has gotten a whole lot more difficult.
Caroline watches as Laila and Julie walk into the school Bart enrolled them in on his returned from England. The girls have adjusted going to an American private school. Caroline made sure the nurse at the private school knew Laila was a type 1 diabetic and that her insulin was watched. Julie was given a full physical by Caroline and put on the proper dosages of estrogen and androgens. Caroline was watching her oldest daughter and making sure she behaved like a girl. There were a few times she had to lecture Julie about being tarty in how she dressed.
This is set in my A New Life universe, which is set in Dot's M.Y.T.H. universe.
Wendy Jean made a comment on We Give Thanks that triggered this story, so I dedicate it to her.
This story actually occurs after the main part of Christmas Wishes Granted, but before the epilogue where they pick up the orphan kids and adopt them.
Fair warning: Suicide is attempted, but (spoiler alert) the attempt fails. And thus comes the real Christmas gift in this story.
The Christmas Eve midnight service was wonderful. I took my place in the soprano section of the choir and sang carols that I had literally known for decades. I had to pay attention to what I was doing, though. It would have been easy to slip into the baritone or tenor parts that I had learned years ago.
At the stroke of midnight, Pastor Dan placed the baby Jesus into the manger. We all wished each other a very merry Christmas, sharing hugs all around.
We lay there embracing and kissing each other as he stayed hard inside me. “I needed that as much as you I think.” He whispered in my ear. I kissed him deeply in agreement as I wrapped my arms and legs around him to hold him tight, with my panties hanging off one ankle.
And then I heard a cough.
We both opened our eyes and looked to my open doorway and my sister was standing there.
written by Dauphin The most shocking story that Dauphin has written, about a boy that is being groomed to please men as a girl "This is provoking, made me angry, made me cry." Diana "Some Stories need to be told" Dauphin
The weekend before thanksgiving, found me trotting down the sidewalk through the predawn darkness. Benton was undergoing something of a Indian summer, along with the rest of central Mississippi. The hard killing frost of late October, had been replaced with warm, almost early spring weather.
Mike Harris is a part time transvestite who struggles with his compulsion to crossdress. He hung up his wig and high-heels over two years ago but ‘The Quickening’, his compulsion to dress as a woman, has returned and his alter ego Michele Nylons beckons.
Since his childhood Al was different, not like other boys, and constantly surrounded by the bunch of girls he didn’t fancy them but rather preferred to be one of them. Now as FBI agent Al had an emergency wish in his pocket, though it was for emergency and not for desire of whole life.
The privileged son of a wealthy family is keen to learn why he’s never been permitted to visit the top floor of the east wing. Is there a shameful family secret? Some mad old woman kept imprisoned up there? Not exactly… but what he finds there will change his life forever.
The leafs on the trees had turned from green to orange and brown. The last of the soybeans and cotton was being harvest and the air was starting to become cooler. Pumpkins where starting to appear in the produce department of Sunflower, and sweaters, long skirts and leggings where starting to replace tank tops, sundresses and bikini bottoms.
This had a temporary possible title: such as 'Aren't you / they stupid? I’m not gay!' which could have grown a series of 'Aren’t they angry … '; Aren’t they wrong ...'; 'Aren't they nasty ...'; even 'Aren't they accepting … '. Another possible set of titles began How stupid are you? I'm not gay'.
Then the story veered away and the title had to change!
The ending part of the ongoing story that started almost three years ago. There were some inquires for that first story, The Waltz, to be continued. I was stuck somwhere in the middle and couldn't find an acceptable continuation untill now.
Raising a young boy as a single parent is not easy. Raising a young boy who believes he’s really a girl is even more challenging. Being a young boy being raised by a single male parent (dad) also isn’t easy. Being in a single parent/single child family, especially during the holidays, is especially difficult. Dan and 11 year old Matt were in agreement on these matters.
Auntie owned a dress-shop. Yes, I know now that’s the introduction to a whole sub-section of transvestite literature. I didn’t know it then. All I knew was that my mum had a sister in faraway Leeds and they rarely met, rarely spoke to each other and in fact mum rarely spoke of Aunt Lily. Perhaps Mum knew that working in a dress shop would be the right thing for me.
Ten minutes into my three hour shift and already a line was starting to form up in front of the booth. Lily was at the table collecting the money and handing the soft, round, brown leather balls. My sister had wandered off as soon as the booth had open. Something about checking the charity shops, see Benton has little in the way of a proper bookstore, I mean of course you could always use Amazon or order online from one of the major retail chains. But, often you had to pay full price for those, and unless it was somebody’s birthday or Christmas, we rarely brought something new.
This was triggered by Leonard Cohen’s song. There are overtones of The Beatles’ She’s leaving home’.
Another AP-500. Well, first a whole bunch of AP-500 ‘starters’ for other people …. Then I write a couple of follow-ons myself. Now another few ‘500-worders’ to come.
I was halfway through my hot chocolate when the door to the my room swung open. There in the doorway stood my older sister. Now, Kayla was a full fourteen years older than me. Growing up, I rarely saw much of her, save those rare visits around the holidays. So, around three times a year if I was luck, those three times of course being Easter, Thanksgiving and finally Christmas.
Hanging on the Telephone Line (with thanks to ELO and Jeff Lynn for the inspiration)
“Hello. How are you?
Have you been alright, through all those lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely nights
That's what I'd say. I'd tell you everything
If you'd pick up that telephone yeah yeah yeah” I looked at the phone for the umpteenth time.
Artemis limps home after the beating he just received from the guys in his neighborhood. His stupid uncle purposely made him play football with the guys, even when he told his uncle he didn’t want to play. They beat the daylights out of him on the field and he might have sprained his ankle. His wrist was hurting him again. It was swollen right now, and it hurt when he tried to use it.
The dry erase board in my room, told me the nurse for the morning shift was somebody named “Veronica”. It turns out that Veronica was a hand full of years older than me. A young nurse from school. She still had that freshly pinned shine about her. My eyes followed Veronica around the room as she checked on everything. She seemed a little ill at ease.
Pale moonlight streamed through the window and bathed the floor of my hospital room. Through the haze of the painkillers dripping down into me, I thought the full moon reminded me of a ghostly ship, cut adrift in a sea of darkness. My name is Mark Brewer, I just turned fourteen. Two weeks ago, I was in a horrible car crash that killed my mother and has left me a ward of the state. I’m told by a case worker that my older sister.. Kayla Brewer, who lives in Benton and owns and a operates a Christmas Tree Farm has agreed to take me in. Okay I lied a little.
Galen was sitting in his office, going over preparations to take Bug into custody. He felt like a wannabe inventor trying to become an actual inventor. It was one idea after another. He just couldn’t figure out a way militarily that would even work out successfully for them. It was getting to the point that he would be forced to enlist the help of military strategists and historians to aid in this endeavor. But Bug might simply be too powerful for Galen, the Agency, and the best the military had to offer.
Checks can be made out & sent to:
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.
