Jessica and Luke are siblings who have experienced a whole world of pain and hurt in their short lives. When it seems that, for once, things are finally beginning to improve, a local drug gang invades their existence, and their world threatens to crumble down around their ears. Read on to see how they and their friends fight back.
Jessica and Luke are siblings who have experienced a whole world of pain and hurt in their short lives. When it seems that, for once, things are finally beginning to improve, a local drug gang invades their existence, and their world threatens to crumble down around their ears. Read on to see how they and their friends fight back.
Jessica and Luke are siblings who have experienced a whole world of pain and hurt in their short lives. When it seems that, for once, things are finally beginning to improve, a local drug gang invades their existence, and their world threatens to crumble down around their ears. Read on to see how they and their friends fight back.
A Star Trek Next Generation fanfic with an homage to all those blokes who put on a skant (I know, horrible name. I think it’s meant to derive from a merging of skirt and pants, although I thought that was supposed to be the equally dreadful skort) in the name of gender equality. A short-lived experiment that lasted all of season one then disappeared. Here’s maybe an insight into why:
Lanie Saunders wants nothing more than to go to The Eras Tour, the person who is supposed to accompany her, her big brother, who is home from grad school for the summer, doesn't want to go. Alex is worried someone from high school will recognize him, and to him, there's nothing more embarrassing than being seen at a Taylor Swift concert. But Lanie has an idea: what if she casts a spell that will disguise Alex? Alex thinks the idea is silly, because magic isn't real, but he's about to get an up close and personal lesson at just how real it is -- and how magical a night at a Taylor Swift concert can be.
~o~O~o~
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
When I posted my first long TG story on here, I did not think it would be eight years before I posted another one. But here I finally am, with a story I started writing about a year ago, then tinkered with a lot over the past year. Unlike my last big story, this one focuses a lot more on the person who triggers the transformation, rather than the person who gets transformed. It also involves identity death for the person who gets transformed, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip this one. And for those who've read "My Shallow Regret," you'll notice this story uses names that are very close to that one -- there's no connection between the characters, I just like using the names.
Also, shoutout to anyone who can use the small clues I tucked into the story to figure out where the main characters live.
This is the follow on from A Tale of Release, most of the characters are back just moved on by nine months.
How would you feel if your boss made an offer that was too good to refuse?
Lenny is a cross dresser out for a public stroll when he gets caught up in a sudden, massive group transformation. See how a far-off war sends his life in directions he could never imagine.
After hiding in a mummy's case, Bob undergoes physical and mental changes. Are they a curse or a blessing? And do they help in the quest to defeat an ancient threat that's fast approaching earth? A prophesy from the time of the pyramid building now has the world in fear. A search for an alien artifact that is crucial for the world's survival is now in the hands of Bob. Is he man enough for the challenge?
I suppose that I should have expected that my first day in the CID office in Loughborough Police Station would follow my previous days through school, university, and the Police College.
“Sorry, son, the juvenile court is in the next building.”
The doctor's prognosis left Stevie with a lot to process. Now, he has to figure
out how he's going to live his life. Thank you all for your amazing support and
kind words. I am so happy that so many of you are enjoying the story.
This has been a very tough week here.
Hunter realizes a few things about himself and gets dressed up to attend his friend's
bat mitzvah party. I am so happy that so many of you are enjoying this story. I truly
appreciate you letting me know that you're reading and what you think about the story.
For those of you who feel that characters have reached resolution already or that
Hunter's health is being neglected, all I can suggest is - read on. Thank you!!!
Dave laughed and said, “Simmering on the Hobb‽ That’s over the border in Northumberland isn’t it? Small spot no more that six hundred folk live there.”
Tommy Dowerson said, “Nah. You got that one mixed up, Dave. That’s Gravy on the Hobb you’re going on about over in Northumberland. The Hobb river over there is nay mere than a beck. Simmering on the Hobb is on the outskirts of Ross on Wye away down country, Herefordshire way. Ross has about eleven thousand folk and t’other spot has maybe four. Just on the other side of Ross from Simmering is Custard on the Hobb where the custard boreholes are which strictly puts it into Wales. The Hobb is a big tributary, mostly in Wales, of the Wye which eventually runs into the Severn Estuary. There’re some odd town names down that way like Builth Wells and Symonds Yat. I only know because I did a postmasters’ course in Hereford a few years back.” There was just enough truth in Dave’s and Tommy’s ridiculous remarks to cause some confusion in the newer outsiders, but considerable hilarity amongst the locals and regular attenders from outside. Inventing silly, often profanely coarse, place names and equally ridiculous personal names vaguely connected to the satirical comedies of Monty Python, The Goons and Much Binding on the Marsh was an ongoing game they played often at each others’ expense. Their recently invented favourites were the villages of Shaver on the Motte, Hard on the Rod and Whacking on the Edge, the last of which came about as a result of a discussion concerning killing flies with a fly swatter. For some reason he wouldn’t explain Fluff in the Hinge was considered to be particularly amusing by Alf.
The sad expression on Linda’s face did not fit how she should feel. Right now she should feel special, like a princess. Nancy and her friends were Linda’s ladies-in-waiting in getting her ready for her big night. That scarlett princess straight sweep train tulle dresses with appliques lace sequined corset should have made her feel regal. The job Linda and her friends, Gemma and Christina, did on Linda’s hair and for her makeup should added to the sense of regality.
This story is the last one for the year. It does treat the main character in a more sensitive way, but she does develop a libido. By my
reckoning, since the beginning of 2020 and my first posting to BC, this is my one hundredth title.
*** Author's note: This is like my normal stories. This deals with child abuse, neglect, abandonment. There is also other triggering themes in this story.
Chapter 1: The Day Everything Changed
Jake walked home from school like it was any other day, his headphones blaring some angsty song about rebellion and survival. It fit the mood he was in—school sucked, home wasn’t much better, but at least it was something. A roof over his head. Food on the table. A bed to crash on.
A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 61 The Green Dragon in the Green Dragon
The BEE’s, Bearthwaite Educational Establishment, approach to discipline was an even deeper mystery to outsiders, for poor behaviour was virtually unheard of in a BEE class. The ‘We just leave discipline to pissed off mums, other than that we just make it up as we go, because the kids know very well how they are supposed to behave,’ approach didn’t really seem to be a viable discipline model to outsiders, but it was all that there seemed to be. As far as any could tell there wasn’t even a set of acceptable behaviour protocols or guidelines or an effective chain of command either.
Set against the vibrant and atmospheric backdrop of Japan, The Tale of My Beautiful Onii-san follows 18-year-old Haruki as he arrives in Kyoto, eager to reconnect with his cousin Yuki after years apart. But nothing could prepare him for the shocking transformation he finds. Drawn into Yuki’s mysterious world, Haruki embarks on a journey of self-discovery, family secrets, and hidden truths. In this suspenseful and heartfelt tale, he learns that family bonds in Japan can be as intricate—and as unbreakable—as the secrets they keep.
On sunny days I would sit on my window seat and think about how I had arrived at this point. Had there been times when I could have changed the outcome? Had there been stages where I could have dug my heels in and shouted “No!’? Would it have made much difference? The important thing was, that when push came to shove, I allowed things to move along in the same direction, wondering what the results would achieve. I was now at the fitting end.
Nancy Parker is trapped in an an endless cycle of harassment and intimidation in an orphanage but a ghoulish visitor offers her salvation and retribution against those who have trespassed against her... of course there is a price to pay.
Brigitte had remarked to Peter that there were any number of XY girls who were far more natural at being girls than he was despite he being XX. Peter had caustically replied that that was hardly surprising because they were girls whereas he was not.
To win a one hundred dollar bet, Cody Williams attends a Halloween party dressed as a Sexy School Girl. Halloween's over -- but returning to his pre-Jack-o-lantern life . . . proves to be scary and another kind of gamble!
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, I was on board a ship, and I was on holiday. I had joined the Royal Navy as soon as I left school, just meeting the minimum height requirements, and had forged a naval career as a specialist diver. Now, at nearly thirty, I was Leading Seaman Michael Brown. I had just finished working on a salvage job and had put in for two months leave.
“Well, Son, doubtless if you looked the words up in a fancy English ordbok it would tell you that they are the same, but there’s a difference in the way Bearthwaite folk use the words these days. Yance ower they were the same here too, but now a visitor is someone we welcome, even if they’ve never been here before, decent folk are visitors. Tourists are folk we don’t really like, folk we don’t approve of, but as long as they don’t get too far out of line we’ll happily tek their money off ’em. Okay, Son?”
“Yeah. I get that. Visitors good, tourists bad. Simple enough, Granddad. I’ll explain to my brothers. Thanks.”
As Ethan left Alan couldn’t help but smile at the Orwellian simplicity of life as seen by a child. Visitors good, tourists bad. ‘What,’ he wondered, ‘would I give to be eight again?’
I was the third child born into what was supposed to be a large family. The first three of us were named alphabetically, as per my father’s family. My brother was Adrian, my sister was Belinda, and I was called Clarence. Our father had been from a big family and was called Gordon Higgins. He had been born in 1988, while my mother, Annabel, had been born in 1990, and was an only child.
A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 58 The Heller of All Hellers
Daphne said, “Most women I know, including me, have an awful lot of clothes. Not Stephen, but that skirt suit is genuine Harris tweed and cost a small fortune. All his clothes are the same, he doesn’t have wardrobes and wardrobes of them but what he does have is all the ultimate in quality. He should have been a woman because his dress sense is far better than mine. However, he’s a hundred percent man. He just likes dressing up in what other people call women’s clothes, but he doesn’t see it that way. He says, ‘I’m a man. They’re my clothes, so by definition they’re a man’s clothes.’ I suppose he does have a point.”
I’m a Private Investigator. My card reads ‘Max Force – whatever it is, we can move it for you. You have a problem; I make it go away. You need help, I can get it for you. You need protection, I can keep you safe.’ All you need is money to pay me for my services.
I was humming a popular tune as I drove my ‘A’ Class Mercedes towards London. I had just completed a job in Norfolk, my best one so far, and now had a money in the bank, some new clothes on the back seat and was happy to be alive. It had been good to be able to help out a friend. I say friend, but we had been nearly rivals at school. We were now firm friends, and I was happy to have helped her, as well as pulling her out of a depressed state.
Avery has always been one of those boys that got mistaken for a girl. All his life and no matter what he said or did, no one ever believed him when he corrected them. Now starting his high school experience at a prestigious private school in the city, he thought he could get a fresh start with new people. Unfortunately the very same misgendering follows him there as well.
For centuries the Fossom Fields dungeon has been a popular spot for seasoned adventurers. But when the industrial revolution catapulted mankind forward, the dungeon stayed behind. Slowly sinking into obscurity. After a century, the monsters that call the dungeon their home have nearly given up hope. But a chance encounter is about to change their fate.
Is the dungeon prepared to not just reach the industrial age, but the information age? Are the monsters? Change is upon them and it comes with benefits and challenges. And maybe the Fossom Fields dungeon will once again be the popular spot. Perhaps even good enough to die for.
This story follows Sir Berous - the designated boss monster - and his loyal guards as they brave this tumultuous time. Change is upon them and they will adapt. As they always do.
A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 57 A Baby Spoon and Pusher
Here come comes the nurse with a red hot poultice, Slaps it on and takes no notice, ‘Oh,’ said the patient, ‘that’s too hot,’ ‘No,’ said the nurse, ‘I’m sure it’s not.’
A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 56 What You See is Never What You Get
How calt will it get? Who knows. I can’t even hazard a guess because I’ve got nowt to base one on. We’ve never hit minus thirty [-22℉] before anywhere in Britain in recorded history, though it’s said that during the winter of sixteen eighty-three going into eighty-four the ice on the Thames was a foot thick [305mm]. I’ve never manage to find even an estimate of how calt it was, but it’s reputed to be the most severe frost recorded in England. It always seemed daft to me to use the expression worst recorded when there’s not even an indication of how calt it was, how is that recorded? Come to that what was it they were recording? Maybe we’ll hit minus forty [-40℉] this time. I wouldn’t rule it out, but like I said I’ve never bin here afore. Think on, it’s not that long since for the first time recorded the temperature in the UK went over forty Celsius. Forty point three [104·54℉] it was at Coningsby in Lincolnshire on the nineteenth of July twenty twenty-two. So owt’s possible.
A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 55 Just Three Longer Tales
“Yes. I’m interested. You said you wanted a wife and were honest as to why. I’ll be just as honest. I’d be grateful of the care and protection of a decent man, but I’ve a son to protect. I’m no whore, but the exchange of bed comforts and a well kept dwelling for the protection of herself and her children is an exchange so ancient it’s decent way beyond decency, so my price is marriage. When do we get married? because till then I’m not prepared to offer you the opportunity to father my second child.”
Author's Note: When I first wrote Complicit In a Lie, I had no thoughts, or ideas, to write a sequel. But thanks to a few readers, who asked about a sequel, ideas formed that made writing this sequel possible. It is necessary to have read Complicit In a Lie to understand why Charles is now with Jane, who the boy arriving in Kingston is and how he's involved in Charles' Court case. And to understand where Mr. Corporate, George Strom, fits into this story. This story starts off after Charles says, "When do we start," in Complicit in a Lie. So if you haven't read Complicit In a Lie, the beginning of this story won't make any sense. Hint hint!
A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 54 Tekin Receipt of a New Un
If we can find any folk who fit here I’ll be as glad to accept them and take the money off the government thieves in Whitehall and the local authority bandits in Barrow, Kendal and Penrith too as the next person, but if they don’t fit here the government can keep the bloody money and the refugees and the victims of violence even though they be women and their kids. Being abused does not give any the right to abuse any of our folk.
A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 54 Tekin Receipt of a New Un
IIf we can find any folk who fit here I’ll be as glad to accept them and take the money off the government thieves in Whitehall and the local authority bandits in Barrow, Kendal and Penrith too as the next person, but if they don’t fit here the government can keep the bloody money and the refugees and the victims of violence even though they be women and their kids. Being abused does not give any the right to abuse any of our folk.
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.
