The Hitman Wore Heels
By
Michele Nylons

The hitman is a perfectionist and master of disguise; he uses his disguises to get close to his targets so he dispatch them. When he is contracted to take out a Mafia Don with a secret penchant for sexy transvestites, the hitman has no qualms in becoming a sexy transvestite in order to make the hit.

If
I opened the SUV's door a wave of heat rolled out, imediately causing my shirt to wilt and stick to my chest. Quickly sliding into the bucket seat, I stabbed the keys into the ignition to start the engine and the air conditioning. Why didn't I use the remote start, I asked my self, that's why it's there.
I had to drive to a remote spot by 12PM. Otherwise the little voices will be gone. This spot was deep in the woods, the only access was down an old logging road.
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Jimmy Warren trudged down the street with his hands forlornly thrust into his pockets. The eighth grader was lost in his muddled thoughts of only seven months more of middle school hell. Then there would be four years of high school hell. Maybe, if he survived, college would at least be tolerable. The week before Halloween chill wind whipped and swirled the brown dead leaves willi-nilli across the sidewalks and streets. As usual the backpack he carried was filled with books and weighed nearly half his scrawny seventy five pound weight. The added weight hunched his undersized four feet eight inch frame forward making it look like he was fighting hurricane force winds rather then normal fall zephers.

Unfortunately the day had been normal for the smallest boy in his class. Twice Gary Newhouse slammed him into the lockers as they passed from class to class while his stooge Will Kilmer knocked his books and notebooks from his arm immediately followed by crony Jeff Gray kicking them down the crowded hall. In phys-ed they took every opportunity to trip and jeer at him. No matter how hard he tried to avoid the six feet two inch two hundred twenty five pound fifteen year old the bully still unerringly sought him out.

Be careful what you wish for ...

This is Jaci's I'm just publishing for her.

There is an old saying, well it is now as I think I may have started it. Be careful what you wish for as you may get it.

How do you ask? Well back in 1972 I visited a fair. Yes a fair. Back in those days having a fair was a fairly common thing. Amusements from shooting games, to horse rides, stage shows, and in particular these little wish fountain things.

Inspired by my own "Ballad of the Sailor Suit" and Lainie Lee's Suit Your Self:
 

Pretty Soldier Suit
 

 
by Erin Halfleven

On a great lake lives a community of people after the fall of civilization.
The former height of mankind forgotten they are reduced to a pre-industrial state.
Beyond the shores of the lake, danger lurks.
But even the lake has its forbidden places.
One young lad, Hengki, is about to dive down to one of them.

When Hosties Wore Stockings

Mike Harris sat in his Business Class Seat and sipped his drink and allowed his mind to wander back to a better time in the annals of air travel. A time when flying was a pleasure, a time when hosties were young, pretty and attentive; a time when passengers comfort and satisfaction came first; a time when hosties wore stockings...

A non TG story by Michele Nylons

Previously

“Yes, there are just few things more. Don’t wear underwear, bring your favorite panties, and bring your nylons and a box of sheepskin condoms. I think you’ll like they way I feel when I’m deep inside you.”

Jackie was sure she heard a gasp from Mike who was breathing heavy like a man in lust. Continuing, Jackie said, “I’m sure I have a bra that will fit you. I hope you like lace, Mike. I do.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. By the way, I’m a 38 B.” Mike hung up.

My name is Gwall Gramadegol. I’m a fairy. I’m proud to be a fairy!

I come from an ancient and proud family of faeries. No, no, not the degenerate Tinkerbell variety. Think Oberon and Morgan le Fay (yes, she was one of us). Powerful, proud and mean. Even evil if you prefer. As a matter of fact I’m the grandson of Oberon. Junior branch though.

Keegan's family has a secret.
One so big it can change one's world.
Now that he is old enough his mother pushes him to use his family trait.

She is known as "The Fickle Genie".
Follow her for as she describes one of her days.
And as usual, it is one full of ill-advised wishes.

“Hey Josie, are you done with the repairs to patrol car 340 yet?” Earl walks over to where Josie was working.

Josie comes sliding out from under the patrol car she was working on. She was in the process of draining the oil. She looks up at Earl as he stood in front of her.

“Yes, so is patrol car 451 and 254 as well. All three are ready to go back out on the road.”

“It’s about time.”

“If you would recruit people who know something about cars. I wouldn’t have to go back and fixed their screw-up.” Josie hated going back and fixing other mechanics messes.

“You might as well give it up Casey. No one is going to hire you for an acting job, especially a male role. You look like you could be my little sister or in a kiddy show.”

Casey had barely made it back in time for his shift at Pete’s Steak House. He looks at Harry as he slips his apron on over his black t-shirt. He was lucky that he remembered to keep a change of clothes for work in his 1998 Mustang. The body needed some work and it had an oil leak, but it got him where he needed to go. He could fix it, thanks to his uncle showing him how to work on cars at his garage.

(This chapter has been posted since April 2018 and has the least amount of reads of all the previous chapters. The last few paragraphs explain how and why our main character became so 'girly'. It's actually a poignant revelation. That explanation begins in the paragraph entitled 'Revelations'. I encourage you to read the final reveal.)

Previously

It all started, for real, a bit over a month before my sixteenth birthday.

See, I'd known for a long, long time, since I was five or six, that I was different from other people.

The problem I had is that my dad is sometimes a bit of a macho prick and I'm his only son. I have three sisters, one older, two younger. Mom isn't a problem, she's quite open-minded, but I would be very surprised if what I want didn't at least surprise her a bit.

The Portrait: Frame II
by Ellie Dauber

This story is a follow-up to “The Portrait”, but I’ve tried to keep it as self-contained (and consistent) as possible. Both stories are part of a series that also includes "Valentine Gift" and "Shakedown", all of which tell of the very magical Uncle Stavros.

*****

Dear Mr. Norman:

Stavros get your letter about the noise. Stavros sorry that nice lady, Miss Gray, not like Stavros’ music, but Miss Gray gone. She married now. Live with husband out in country.

Synopsis: For those who might have wondered just whom the Jonathan Creek UK TV series was based upon, look no further than Jonathan Creep, Design Assistant to the Magic Circle. In researching the 1920's magician, The Great Morgasmo, Jonathan meets Caddy Goodhope, who temporarily becomes his Magician's Assistant to perform the greatest trick ever known to Jonathan. The real question is, if there's no such thing as magic, how does it work?

[Authors note]
This is a little different from my normal fare. I hope you like it.

Elizabeth assists the FBI and there's a message she's getting at lunch that sparks hope.

Andy and Keith went to the mall to check out girls on a lazy Sunday, but their trip didn't quite go as planned...

How much does Paul know about what's going on behind the scenes at the firm? Elizabeth gets and unexpected call...

Wednesday morning as I entered the office Veronica in reception greeted me

- Hi, James. Nice to see you dressed properly again.

I hated it. Just because I decided to joke the Friday before and come dressed in a skirt, a nice blouse that just barely showed the bra under it, pantyhose and shoes with a bit of a heel my life was utterly and completely destroyed. My girlfriend and I had thought it would be hilarious and she had helped me to put on some make-up. Nothing over the top. Just some nice make-up that actually made my 25 year old but unfortunately rather babyish face a bit more mature.

At first everything went according to plan. The other engineers got the joke and had fun comparing my outfit with the usual “dress code” at the design office, i.e. jeans, baggy college shirts and such. Actually I was the only one in a skirt. Not that there were many females among us but anyway. I also got compliments from other people that I met while going from one place another. In one morning I had become modestly famous in the company. Then things started to go wrong, terribly, horribly wrong.

Tim, Dean, and Ben just saw a movie in a theatre.
It wasn't a good one, as Tim starts to complain about some inconsistencies.