There have been a lot of stories that tell how boys learn to become better people by being sent to a "special" school. There are some things about those kinds of stories I didn't like much, so I decided to create my own version of this particular sub-genre. Enjoy!

Madam Martinique's Finishing School

Copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown
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sex and the clitty

by l.satori aka Laurie S.

SYNOPSIS: Can a transgendered gal find love?

1

Elizabeth and I had finished all the preliminaries and were down to the main event -- her love life. We had enough coffee left to hold our booth, but had finished roughly seventy-five percent of our brownies, which was all we were allowed to eat under the Code of Living for Single Girls in New York.

A conversation is overheard about Dirtiness and mouths...

It was supposed to be an ordinary party

‘What’s up?’

‘Oh God, oh God, oh God!’

‘O hell, don’t go all religious on me. Tell me what’s wrong?’

The reviews page for a tale posted on the transgender-fiction site "HyperGraphia" in the year 2017 turns into a forum for the discussion of unsettling world events. The fact that few of these 22 reviewers seem able to stick to reviewing the story is somewhat understandable, given the unprecedented peril our planet faces. This is...

Just a heads up for anyone who wants to start reading this story - it is very much an incomplete work. I had gotten started on it, but just couldn't seem to wrap it up effectively. For all of you who have read what I have written, and were expecting some sort of completion, I sincerely apologize. Next time, I will finish the story before posting it.

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WARNING

This story includes extreme violence. If you have any problems with this, I suggest that you do not read it.

I would like to thank Kristina L S for proof reading and editing for me.

This is a continuation of the story, Shoes. It's being told from the viewpoint of Brianna's brother, Carl. This story starts in the small hours of the morning after he had a long talk with Brianna about her being a girl. He's still trying to work though things, and finally decides to contact an old friend ...

Unrequited love is something we’ve all had to deal with at some point in our lives. Did you ever wish things could be different? Kelvin did. Can you say “oops!”?

Darla and Molly

by Maggie O'Malley and shalimar

Note: The Transgender element is based on previous stories.

A Birthday Present

by shalimar

“Thank you for calling the Little Kids’ Kamp, Lisa speaking. How may I help you?”

Lisa was in a small call center for the Little Kids’ Kamp that the owners could magically transform those who wished to live life as a child one more time. Some came for only a day or two, while others stayed a week or so, and some stayed for months. A few even arranged to stay that way and finally grow up all over again after they left.

Harriet Porter and the Chamber of Victoria's Secret
By Missy Crystal

Harriet Porter was very concerned.

"Herman, do you think the old wizard is in some kind of trouble?" she asked. "He has been acting very oddly, disappearing for days at a time. Perhaps you should use your magic map to see where he is going."

"Really, Harriet, can't you mind your own business. I am sure he can take care of himself. Besides, the map only works inside the school."

This is a true story. It happened to me many years ago in Germany while I was in the Military. The events are as they happened and the places described exist as I have described them. Only the names have been changed to protect anyone who still needs protection.

The Only Real Magic

by shalimar

It was another Saturday night where John and I were hanging out together as usual. We have been best friends since elementary school when I moved into this suburban community from the city in the second grade. I was shy then and had difficulty getting to know anyone in my new school. John who lived a few houses away from me decided to get to know me better and we've been friends since.

The only thing I excelled at turned out to be thinking. I was able to read before I was two and could do college level trigonometry problems by the time I was seven. I was so far ahead of other kids my age that my parents got permission to home school me. I completed all of the requirements for graduation from High School by the time I was eight and got my first college degree; a Bachelors in Electrical Engineering, when I was ten. I was twelve years old when I started helping dad test and debug software for the company he owned.

Sitting Shiva
by shalimar

A man reflects on his transsexual father just after the father's funeral.

Note: Rated X because of references to, not actual, pedophile stories.

The funeral is over and I'm sitting Shiva for a wonderful woman who was my father. I pull out a print of an email many years ago from a close friend of my father and the note that friend had sent with the email. The email was a chat-log between that friend some others and my father. In the log was the first indication I knew of that my father was transsexual.

Playmate

by shalimar

I took a break from my household chores on that early May afternoon and watched Miriam, my five-year-old and her friend, Sarah, learn a clapping song from two of the older girls in the neighborhood. The older girls are very patient with my baby and her friend as they learn the actions, rhythm and words of the song, “Playmate.”

As I watched them it brought back memories of my own childhood, sitting and watching the girls in the neighborhood do that and other clapping songs. One time there were only three girls, so they asked me to join them.

How do you explain to a young daughter something you hadn't been prepared for her to find out? Sometimes, a picture is worth a thousand words. :)

Family Pictures

Copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown

This is a very short story I'd written a while ago that just started with the image of two odd figures climbing out of a mud hole. I began theorizing what they would be doing there and where they were going next. The following story is the result of that bit of daydreaming. :)

Out of the Mud

Copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown