After our initial article went to press, Sightings received a flood of reader feedback. While most of the correspondence was quickly dismissed as fraudulent or cases of mistaken identity, a handful contained snapshots and Polaroids that lent unexpected credence to their claims. One correspondent even submitted a grainy 35mm home movie in which "Jean" — and, astonishingly, her oft‑noted pianist —can be seen performing at a regional televised talent quest...

I couldn’t have been more embarrassed when Mum came into my room that afternoon. I was on fours on my bed dressed in a bra, suspender belt and stockings and nothing else. Behind me was my best friend Peter, wearing nothing at all. A part of his body that could vary in size at maximum extension.

The young post-doctoral fellow at the podium began her speech to the audience assembled in the lecture hall.

"We had discovered a ray that apparently traveled faster than light -- specifically at ten times the speed of light. Our experiment was motivated to verify the ray's existence and speed, and test the physical and logical consequences.

Coming Out Posthumously: a grave admission

A foreboding premonition caused now deceased cross-dresser Joel to schedule and pre-pay for his 'Makeover of a Lifetime' many months prior to his demise.

His ‘Makeover’ included being laid to rest perfectly made-up, with nice hair, wearing his prettiest earrings, his nicest high heeled pumps, manicured and painted nails and dressed in his feminine finery with the delightfully feminine “Miss Dior by Maison Février Essence de Parfum” wafting from his satin lined casket.

Why didn’t anyone tell me that you had to light the brandy in the spoon before pouring it over the Christmas pudding to make it do that flaming thing that you always saw in the movies?

The wig I am wearing is cyan, the skirt is royal, the tight sweater bloused over my prosthetic breasts is icy blue.

Uncle Ben Is Coming to Stay
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

“Now you met him last night and he is clearly comfortable around you, so he will be coming to stay with us … he is moving in tomorrow.” The face had a look of determination. Argument was pointless and potentially damaging. “I have told you that there would be changes around here and you will just need to get used to it, son!”

Watch video here - Cossdressing Stories

I wasn’t supposed to hear it.

I had just stepped out of the kitchen, drying my hands on a towel, when I caught the tail end of it — Mom laughing, Karen’s voice trailing off:
“Honestly, Ellen, sometimes I think Evan would’ve made a better daughter than son.”
Then the clink of wine glasses. More laughter.

To Watch Full Story Visit - Feminization Story

It was supposed to be a normal day. That’s what made it worse. You know how some days just feel… forgettable? This was one of those.

Lisa was making coffee. I was rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. My jaw felt tight, head buzzing, and I remember saying something like, “I think I need a check-up or something. Just feel off.”

Yolanda’s smile was legend. It was sunshine and rainbows, sure, but it was sword and shield too. Sometimes it came easy; other times it required determination and grit.

I would like to share one of the rabbit holes my mind goes down:

See, I was watching this documentary on the formation of the moon, and for some reason I started thinking "what if we had ended up with 2 moons, instead of 1?"

Now there is a bunch of physics that would be in play in this situation, but since I don't understand it, I am going to skip it, and just talk about the effect on humans (assuming we evolved on this alternate Earth).

”It all started three weeks ago. Peter Kowalski complained about a D he had got on his Math test. I tried to explain to him that while he is smart and probably understands the material, he is sloppy and makes stupid mistakes. He retorted that he was a victim of gender discrimination. Of course I refuted that. The idea was preposterous. Then Mary, a bright but not very pretty girl backed me up, sort of. She claimed that I only favored girls with pretty legs in short skirts. I ignored such a wild unfounded accusation.

"You look fabulous," Teresa said, parting Taylor's hair down the middle and combing it down the sides. Teresa must have seen skeptical disbelief in Taylor's face, because she continued, "Absolutely. Hold still just a moment, while I touch up your eye-liner. There. You'll be the darling of the Ball."

My Grandmothers Story

I have hesitated to share this story, but with the ending of Roe in the US, I think I must.

This story has no sex in it.

The School Bully
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

It was the home of Jason Davis – the school bully. Jason’s mother answered the doorbell. Chrissy was still wearing the ridiculously short skirt, but had changed her top to something that better displayed her burgeoning breasts.

“Hello Mrs. Davis,” said Chrissy. “I am here to see Jason.”

“My God. It’s Christopher isn’t it?”

“Not for over a year now, but yes, it’s Chrissy now.”

“Come inside, Sweetie,” she said. “What a brave child you are. It must have been so difficult for you.”

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.

Since you read this on BCTS you are familiar with my situation.

I wore a skirt to school ONE day to see what would happen. At the time I was known as Toby. Well, it was supposed to be only one day. Things snowballed. Being tagged as a girl. Cheerleading, ballet, standing up to bullies, assigned to the girls’ locker room. Even a boyfriend. Ending up as the popular girl, slayer of bigots, savior of damsels in distress (perhaps not the last). The Prom Queen ruling the school.

Cole was in heaven as soon as we stepped through the doors. The entrance was brightly illuminated to showcase the attendees' costumes as they walked through. I hadn't even had the chance to properly take in the scene when a cameraman took one look and almost immediately accosted us, ushering us to the side where pictures were being taken.
 
"Okay I guess we're going this way now" I muttered to my friend.
 
"Just go with the flow" he replied.
 

And now for something completely different. Actually, it was my latest story, Death in Venice Beach, that was something completely different. This is more the normal me; short, cute and twisted (I’m only 1.64 m tall).

In the end it had been quick.

The time finally came when I wasn't allowed to come to work without my hair tied up. I always kept it loose because it was easy, and as a man I really didn't know many hairstyles. I only put my hair up in a ponytail once with the help of Mistress, and even that was a struggle. But my superiors had other plans for me. They specifically instructed me that from now on, I had to wear my hair in a bun when coming to work. They said it would give me a professional look, whatever that means.

When my youngest, Lawrence (or more usually Larry), began high school I was not surprised that he had problems. Not scholastically. Larry is a bright boy. No, the thing about Larry is that he is “odd”. I can’t describe it better than that since I haven’t been able to pin it down better myself. There is nothing tangible. He doesn’t look funny in any way. No big nose or limp or anything like that. He’s not a macho boy but in no way girly (even if some would characterize his love for ballet as girly, which anybody that had seen him on stage would know is a mistake). He’s just “odd”.