"What do you mean he took your voice? You're speaking just fine now" the officer asked.

I glanced down at the tape recorder that was recording everything I'd said so far. Good, I wouldn't have to tell this story ever again. I don't think I had it in me to relive this tale one more time.

Right, this story carries all kinds of warning flags. I’m not joking. If you have even the faintest trace of triggers don’t read this story. Otherwise it's rather sweet.
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The town where I grew up was not exactly a multicultural metropolis like New York. On the other hand, it was not a redneck backwater either. While most of us were white we had our share of other ethnicities as well. Mostly native Americans and blacks. Still, none of those blacks were as black as the new student in my high school class. She was really ebony black, not the various hues of brownish black of the “native” blacks. Native in the sense that they, and their forefathers had been in this country for at least fourscore and seven years. Rasa on the other hand was pure African. Pitch black, tall, muscular and moved like a large feline. No wonder she soon was tagged with the name “The Black Panther”.

Why did I know that? Don't panic. I had to figure this out. I had never been the same person twice and certainly not two days in a row.

My mind darted to her locker code. 14,22,7. I didn't just remember it from yesterday, I remembered it from the start of the school year.

My mind darted from one memory to another before being pulled to focus on the heavy footsteps rapidly approaching my door. A moment later, the door opened with her father peaking through. He looked worried for a moment but his expression slowly dissipated into a neutral one.

please read with caution

Parker looks out towards the water from the pier he is standing on, thinking about jumping. He was cradling a heavy stone in his arms and standing close to the edge of the dock. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He could not believe what had been done to him by people he trusted.

His life was now ruined, all thanks to what they did to him. Not only had they recorded what they did to him, but they had posted the footage on all the social media sites and the college site he attended as well. They sent footage of what happened to him to his parents.

“You feel okay, babe?” Matt asked as I walked out of class.

“Sure, why?”

“I just thought that you needed some cheering up, so I bought you a donut. Bavarian cream, your favorite.”

He offered up the pastry with both hands. I saw a bead of sweat fall from his temple.

“Are you alright, Matt?”

The anticipation in the air was palpable as the Royal Transport approached the Queen's Spire. I stood in my armor, ready to fulfill my role in delivering the long-lost royal jewels to their rightful place. The helmet concealed my face, but I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through me.

RXAI-199 had informed me that my presence might draw a crowd as it had been millennia since the ship had crashed and lost communication with the Caravelle Empire. I couldn't help but wonder how the empire had evolved during that time and who might now be in charge.

I was overwhelmed with sensations all over my body.

There was a pull on my scalp where my wife's hands were pulling my braids. My lips felt buttery and smooth and velvety from the lipstick. I could feel my wife's soft lips on mine, her tongue in my mouth, kissing me deeply, smearing my lipstick.

Most of all, my body was contracting pleasantly, an after effect of the waves of pleasure that had washed all over me, centered in my groin.

I had leaked - that's right, leaked cum, which was pooled beneath us, on the floor.

"Wow, honey", she smirked at me, "You really are a woman"

Trans lesbian vampire is crushing hard on a fae woman she met a few hundred years ago. They have a consensual nonconsent relationship, and also go out for brunch.

The next morning, my wife woke up before me, full of energy. She got up, turned around and climbed on me, while I was still asleep. She gave be a hug, body touching body, her head on my shoulder.

I could smell her hair and feel her softness and warmth, like a blanket on a very cold morning.

"Mmmm", I woke up and yawned, hugging her back, tightly. I placed kisses along the side of her neck, stroking her hair with one hand.

It was the weekend after our agreed on week was over. Every day of the next seven days and more, the cage on on me.

It was easy to clean, while still on. It wasn't visible from my trousers. It helped me tuck and get a smooth front. Best of all, it wasn't uncomfortable or painful during normal wear. It actually felt very secure.

But, every morning, it felt like my dick was in a very tight tube. I never could sleep in with the cage on. Every morning, I took a cold shower.

The next day she teased me relentlessly.

I did not dignify her teasing my a reply, but the memory of last night bought an unexpected feeling of acceptance. It felt like for the first time I was in my body.

"Look at you squirm. Your face is all red. Looks like your face enjoyed it more than you did!", she teased.

I kept my focus on the coffee cup. It was an interesting cup. Plain, but interesting.

"You looked really feminine in pigtails. They suit you. You should wear pigtails more often than that boring ponytail"

"Did you like it last night?", she smilingly asked over a cup of coffee the next morning.

My face got red and I avoided catching her eye.

"Looks like your face liked it. You are so adorable with your face all flushed like that"

I lightly swatted her head and sneaked a quick kiss on her lips, "You snore"

"What's the use of your PP if you want to be penetrated?"

It was the next day, we were having breakfast prepared by me, poached eggs, hollandaise sauce and store brought muffins. It was delicious, I had prepared it with a focus that allowed me distractions from last night.

The silent treatment continued for two more weeks. During that time, I woke up on the couch, prepared and ate food alone, and went to work. She never saw me at mornings, never had food at home, came home after me and went straight to sleep. I kept expecting an intervention, possible divorce, career and home loss.

"Honey, I need to talk to you", I said to her with some trepidation. I did not know how she would react, but I needed to tell her the truth after these few years of our marriage.

This story is about an Indian couples' struggle as their marriage is tested and they try to navigate their way through the entirely new expectations and experiences of the husband's suppressed auto-gynephilia and trauma from abuse sexual/otherwise, against a backdrop of traditional patriarchal Indian society and an intensely segregated LGBT community.

Authors Note: I did not realize I had not published this chapter before publishing chapter 5. I am sorry for any confusion and hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

The Light Between (Part 5 of 8)

by Erisian

Book 5

Chapter 16 - Sins

Countless nights spent staring into a fire’s dancing flames or into skies darkened by midnight’s gloom flooded everything, twisting as a barbed arrow within the chest. Abandoned by a father whose infinite radiance had turned as cold as the snow he’d left her in, a young girl had wrestled with inner scars which seeped anew from every self-perceived failure. Even her uncle - though he had at least stayed - always bore into her soul with hooded eyes of penetrating and absolute judgment.

Only Siabh had held her tenderly. Only the fae priestess had softly offered words of love and support.

But some nights those hadn’t been enough. And as the long hours crept towards dawn the child had whispered the same questions over and over:

Does my mother also think me worthless? Is that why she never came for me?

Is she ashamed of me too?

Trevor looked in horror at the gaping vagina before him, the same one he had impotently obsessed over and fantasized about for so many years, he couldn’t help but think: where had everything gone so very wrong?