The Fancy Dress Party

If the bloody corset wasn't so damned tight, and if my feet weren't already aching from the ridiculously towering heels, and if the mass of tape criss-crossing my chest wasn't so damned itchy, and if the damned 'foundation garment' that was keeping my willy folded backwards between my legs wasn't so tightly uncomfortable, I might have laughed.

In a funny gaspy sort of voice, mostly because I couldn't take deep breaths, I did however manage to call out: “Shin, O. B. Shin – not chin.”

Could you trust anyone? The country was about to to be attacked by its mightiest foe, and betrayed by its allies. On a more personal scale I was about to experience the year of calamity. Business relations are your friends because they are in it for the money, so you are aware they might betray if they see that as judicious. But you expect more from more personal friends and family. The very nadir of experience is when even your body betrays you. The year was 1672.

Or (Brian the Schoolgirl) After being released from prison, Brian is taken in by his cruel stepmother, Faye, an unhinged and determined doctor, hell bent on forcing the son she always loathed into becoming the sweet daughter she could never have.

None of these parodies are meant to be of the work of specific individuals. I hope none of them seem too meanspirited. Poe's Law may apply. Typos may or may not be intentional.

To think I was a normal boy two days ago... but let me start at the beginning.

“Now this is showing confidence in your series,” Natalie sighed as she poured out tall glasses of sparkling wine for her seven friends. “Broadcasting the premiere episode at half past ten on a Monday evening.”

“They couldn’t even have put it on last Monday, when it was a bank holiday,” Rachel sighed.

Johnny has gone on a school trip to England as part of a student exchange where he is the only boy and there are 5 girls with 1 female teacher. Little did he know, his exchange partner and everyone else on the trip plan to keep it girls only.

“You know,” Paige said as she settled into her plush airline seat, “I kinda wish more people were staring. I mean, come on, just look at us! We’re hot!”

I'm finally getting my own place. I've been waiting for this moment it feels like forever. Since i made the decision to finally live my life as a woman. I will be taking my hormones and getting my huge breast implants what is gonna take a while longer is getting srs. I'm tired of looking at my small cock., i want a beautiful tight wet pussy i can play with all day and night. I cant wait to have my first cock fuck my pussy, everywhere i go im gonna fuck everyone. Always wearing short dresses and skirts with no panties for easy access.

Jessica smiled for the passengers as they disembarked the plane, stretching their tired muscles after the long flight from Madrid.

“Thank you for flying with Soixante-Trois Airlines,” Jessica gushed in her practised overly-saccharine ‘stewardess’s voice’. “Enjoy your stay in London!”

“I live here, you dumb valley girl,” one of the passengers snorted as he passed Jessica with a backward glance.

Now that another Time Traveler is loose upon Earth’s fragile timeline, what will he change and could the Empress and her sisters be the first casualties? Can the wondrous Empress of Time and Space return history to the way it should be or will she need to ‘step back’ to re-evaluate her historic options here and in other universes?

I take a deep sigh as I step out of the small clinic, my face tingling from the lasers that had swept their way over it mere minutes earlier. Despite my face being make-up free- and covered with a very patchy 5 o'clock shadow- no one gives me a second look as I head down to the tube train that ferries me to my next destination. Well, that's not strictly true, people ARE giving me a second look, but not because of the hair on my face, but because of the pink tights covering my legs, visible underneath my extra-short denim skirt.

Resuming their original mission- that of finding Prof. Samuel’s missing Time Machine- Alex and company participate in a ghost hunt, where they provide most of the paranormal activity. How much will the Empress allow her fellow ‘poltergeists’ to enjoy the ‘witching hour’? How much will their newest sister, Akane, influence the mission? Later, Alex and Jack attend Prof. Samuels’ theoretical science lecture masquerading as her keynote speakers.

A Love So Bold
by Anon Allsop

The story continues - Hope you enjoy!

-Three-

Two days west of the attack site, Ezrah was on foot walking the big black horse in an effort to rest it. Ever since that terrible day, the boy used every trick he could think of to elude the roving bands of Indians. Unsure of whether they were those who attacked and killed his parents, yet to him, all Indians were now suspect.

He was walking through a small canyon, and the echoing of Blackie's hooves rattled within his ears even though he was trying to keep silent. As they emerged from the other end, he saw a band of at least a dozen Indians riding diagonally toward him. If he delayed too much, they reach him in no time. He quickly mounted and took off across the prairie in an attempt to outrun them.

When he heard the loud whooping, he knew that he had been seen and it was the second time he had heard their telltale sound. The terrible feeling once again returned to the pit of his stomach. Lying along the back of the big horse, Ezrah entwined his fingers in the long black mane of the horse. Still with the reins in his hands, he hung on for dear life. The horse ran like the wind, ears flat back, tail out and its long ebony main flailing in the terrified youth's face.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the posh English accent announced over the airplane’s tannoy, "I'd like to thank you for flying Soixante-Trois airlines, and on behalf of the company, I'd like to wish you all a safe stay in Paris and a very Merry Christmas!"

Jessica stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac at Charles De Gaulle airport with an ache in her feet from standing in high heels all day, and an ache in her head from dealing with needy, insulting passengers all day. She longed for nothing more than to strip out of her painful shoes, her tight skirt and her restrictive corset and lay in a warm bath for the next 24 hours, but as she changed back into her sleek black dress to head home, she knew that wasn't an option.

Current situation:

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

"...And the emergency exits can be found here, here and here," Marie announced in English and in French as all four stewardesses on board the luxurious aeroplane performed the hand and arm gestures.

 
Well, I’ve met the other bride’s maids, and it went well. I think that they were all shocked when they first met me, and full of questions. But, I was quickly accepted as one of the girls. And, one of them even said, “You should have been born a girl.” Why do some people feel that way? Oh well, I don’t.

The wedding is this Saturday, and I’m really getting nervous. If the wrong people find out about me, this wedding isn’t going to be good.

What a week. I guess I’m really getting into being Becka. I've dressed as a girl ever day. I've had a complete body waxing. I didn’t have that much body hair to start with, but feeling my hairless body when I take a shower is very interesting. Nylons and a corset are also an interesting combination. And, I really like it. Sara and I also had another long talk with my Aunt Dorothy that was very interesting. What will the rest of the week bring? I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

My ears are pierced. I now own more girls’ clothes. And, have a supply of makeup that will last me a year. Then Becka met her father and Sara’s father. It was scarey to start with. But, I was surprised that they accepted me, and why I was doing it. What more can happen?

OUTED IN THE OFFICE
Fiction by Cynthia V. Hart

The white #10 business envelope had no printing on it, just my name handwritten on the front. I found it sitting in my chair Monday morning when I arrived at work and came to my cubicle. I wondered who it was from; if it were official company communication, it would have been in one of our letterhead envelopes. I sat down, opened it and found a folded letter-size sheet of paper. On it was a printed photo, obviously taken by a smartphone’s camera…and my eyes widened in shock.

It was a photo of Andrea, no question. The dress, the face, the wig, the décor of the club…they were unmistakable. Someone had snapped a photo of me in my “other life” and left it here waiting for me in this envelope. I had thought nobody in the office knew I was a crossdresser, but here in my hands was proof that I was wrong. My heart was in my mouth and I started shaking with sheer terror.

Under the photo was printing from Microsoft Word or some other word-processing software, in that annoyingly overused Comic Sans font. It read:

“Dear Andrew: Is this you?

“Your friend always, Wendy.”

I gaped at the signature. Was this the gorgeous young lady I had spent two years or more working alongside, who sat just down the row of cubicles from me? Young, pale-skinned and freckled, busty and red-haired, blue-eyed and very cute, Wendy Parsons had always seemed a bit friendlier to me than most of the people there…but I had put it down to the rapport I often had with women, with whom I had always gotten along much better than those of my own gender. She strongly resembled a younger version of the actress who plays Joan on Mad Men -- Christina Hendricks, I think her name is -- right down to the epic prow. I had always loved the way her wavy crimson mane cascaded down from her head back over her shoulders, and the way her ample breasts filled out the front of her businesslike blouses and dresses. Sometimes I liked to imagine she wore something cut a bit lower than usual or left one extra button unbuttoned just for me to enjoy…but of course, that was mere fantasy.

I sat there for what must have been close to an hour, not even getting any work done, just trying to cope with the news that at least one of my co-workers was on to me and deciding what to do. Was it really from Wendy, or one of my other co-workers who’d spotted me and was trying to trap me?

"Mr. Tyler, your resume is very impressive," Robert Marotte, chief recruitment officer for Soixante-Trois airlines, said to the young American man sitting opposite him. "Two years working for Belman airways in America, fluent in English, French & German, conversational in Russian and Arabic, you could choose any airline you want. Why do you want to work for Soixante-Trois?"