I groaned as I slowly but very painfully regained my consciousness. I had the most intense headache I'd ever had and my world spun violently.

Not that I could see it. My vision was dark as a result of the cloth that covered my eyes. I wanted to scream but even my mouth was restrained. It was a terrible realization that I was cut off from the world. I felt that much more helpless when I tugged at my arms but they were secured firmly behind my back.

Glen attends the Barbie sleepover, gets lost on the way home, and is saved by three teenage girls who find an innovative way of using Glen to entertain themselves.

I LOVE panties.

Eventually, you want more - and sometimes there's people to hinder, sometimes they help.
This an Alys-500 story with exactly 500 words of text. Anyone can take this and grow it; acknowledgment would be kind and polite.

*** 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.

It’s that time of month ...

Can I guess what sort of story you're now expecting? Don't be silly.

Pretty makes me Happy.

One more of my 'starter' stories with just 500-words-of-text.

Do we need the other versions of the title – Sleazy, Dopey, Sleepy, Fearful, Nasty & Dick or whatever they might be.

It’s kind of tricky to say EXACTLY what I want. Let’s start with some facts. I’m NOT a dwarf. I’m nearly 6 foot tall, middle-weight, middle-this, middle-that. I feel that I’m relatively normal but that doesn’t mean a lot these days.

November 16, Early Evening.

It had been three weeks since the debacle at the Paediatric hospital. As expected, that story ran for as long as the media outlets could justify it. There were so many pictures of me in tears floating around the official channels and even more online.

When I realized most people weren't treating my behavior as something awful, I was eventually able to stop worrying so much about it.

I had woken up and found myself in a compromising position. The universe had given me a headstart, an opportunity to save myself from the compromised state I found myself in.

I had been sprawled all over him, my left arm draped the whole way across his torso and my head resting on his chest. I'd had the opportunity to withdraw and fling myself back to my side of the bed but what did I do with that chance? I stayed because God it felt nice.

Ah summer! Lazy days, no school, no need for a summer job, good friends, a white sandy beach, blue water, several water nymphs in multi-colored bikinis among the friends. What more could one ask?

Chapter 4

Part 25

As in, anal?

The phrase Chris had repeated countless times at this point about what he ‘wanted’ was never meant to be anything beyond satisfying the girls with the blatantly untrue words. He wasn’t into guys. He had never experimented with anything back there. And, because Julia was a girl, the obvious assumption was that he would be fucking her, despite how she had phrased it the opposite.

I don’t pass – BUT what the hell

Sometimes it's just too much effort to stay hidden - and it's no fun ... and it's LONELY.

Orphan Petal

December 2023 - Part 1

Chistmas is coming and Shirley has never been happier

He stepped out of the patrol car and sauntered over to my Prius. I rolled down my window and he leant into the gap.

"Ma'am, do you know why I've pulled you over?", he asked.

"I'm so sorry officer, I didn't realise my speed. I promise I'll slow down."

"Ma'am I need to see your licence."

I started to protest but he raised his hand to stop me.

"Now, ma'am. Or I'll have to put you under arrest."

Reluctantly, I reached across and fished my licence out of the glovebox. He took it from me and looked it over with a confused expression.

When at home, Marilyn dresses her husband Glen as a pretty girl. When she decides to also have Glen dress as a girl when they visit friends and family, his anxiety leads Marilyn to take him to a therapist to learn some coping skills.  The therapist's advice has the unintended consequence of endowing Glen with a superpower - the mindset of a preteen girl. As such he enjoys playing Barbies with other girls. Marilyn and the therapist are left trying to figure out how to get Glen back to being himself. 

Progress in Pink

That’s progress – isn’t it?

This is mostly a transcript of a conversation I recorded at my T-club a while ago. There’s the occasional comment so it doesn’t flow perfectly. But it’s got some thoughts I want to share about how I’m going being a girl, sorry, correction, at my age, I’m a woman as far as I present to the world. I’ve got a job, a flat, friends. I’m doing ok.

I entered the bar as I had done many times before. The difference this time was that I was there as Annie. I was in equal parts feeling exhilarated and mightily nervous. There was always a chance that I might have been recognised but I thought those chances were pretty slim. I make for a pretty convincing girl, and when I'm Annie I look miles different from my usual self. My heart was pounding, nevertheless.

Part 23

Chris wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

Though he had begrudgingly shaved the rest of his body, his most private area felt like a reasonable exception. Amy was his cousin, and he had been correct about his assumption that she wouldn’t ask about something like that afterwards. Of course, that was back when it was just the two of them. With Julia included, and seconds away from discovering that he was not smooth where she was asking about, he was unexpectedly put on the spot.

Author’s Notes: This is another transcript of a conversation between myself (taking the part of Ben) and an AI known as Talkie AI (taking the part of Linda and the Bartender). The basis of every story has been pre-planned by a user (in this case me) and the first line of text is pre-scripted. Everything after that is generated spur of the moment, either by me or the AI.

I was lost in his arms and dazed by the music, which had switched into a more somber piece halfway through our dance. At this point, we weren't even swaying anymore; we just stood there, holding each other.

I had long since closed my eyes and buried my head in his chest. If I listened hard enough, I could just make out the soft beating of his heart-- or was that mine? I couldn't be sure. I couldn't be sure of that, or anything else for that matter.

‘Are you getting dressed tonight’ was the question I asked myself

‘Yes, I am ... but I want to try something different. I want to take one more step.’
That was how this happening happened last night.