Lisa, Mayda and I met up in the Birdcage the following morning. With all guests now off the SuperYacht, Danny, Clive and the Skipper had helped themselves to the guest staterooms. Only a skeleton domestic staff remained on board; the rest, including the Purser had been sent on ahead on a domestic flight. They would be sent on leave for a few weeks until the boat recommenced sailing with guests in the Gulf and beyond. We had a leisurely breakfast; our charges, unlike normal guests, had busy workdays, so we, in contrast, would have plenty leisure time.

As soon as I said that I realized how stupid I was. For one thing you don’t say that if you are the only boy in a locker room filled with cheerleaders. And that was not even the most stupid part of it.

I came to lying on a bed in a small, very neat, cabin. Danny was dabbing my forehead with a wet towel.

“Hi Doll, you gave me a bit of a fright there!”

“Where am I?”

“Lying on my bed”

The security men each had a small cabin off the security office.

“Not my preferred way to end up in your bed!”

I was beginning to recover.

Danny grinned, reached out a hand and helped me sit up.

“Are you ok? You just fainted as we were talking”…

“Sorry, you just gave me a fright!”

“Me? What did I do?”

The bus was carrying only two passengers, and they were not together. The young woman, Payton, was twenty-three, tall and fit, and projected a commanding but grouchy, “stay away from me” exterior. She was heading east to make a new start.

The other passenger was an eighteen-year-old boy, Arden, who was small and slender, unsure of himself, and was fleeing an unhappy home situation.

A heavy thunderstorm was pounding the bus as it navigated up a steep and winding lane in the mountains. Mud had seeped onto the road, and the bus slipped sideways a few times, causing the driver and passengers to gasp and wonder when they would finally hit level ground. All they could see was tall trees on either side, crowding the road. They looked scary in the darkness, at least to Arden they did. He was just wondering what he was going to do with himself when they got to the town when the bus slid again, and then, horrifyingly, plummeted over the side.

Author's Note:
I've been having Google Gemini lately help me turn my crazy dreams I've been having into fun to read short stories that I hope to put in a collection of like 50 short stories for publishing. This is my most recent dream to short story that I had made. ENJOY :).

The 88 MPH Problem

Two Men Too Many
A Short Western Story
By Maryanne Peters

Some say that when you are headed west and there is nothing before you except open space and hard work, that you need more young men than you do young women. But as far as the Haddon Colby train of 1861 was concerned, they had two men too many.

“Ooh, how about these?” Sarah asked as she picked up a box of expensive-looking chocolate covered shortbread biscuits. “You did say that one of the new Angels is Scottish, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but she’s not moved to London yet,” Nikki replied, before giggling, taking the box from her wife and placing it in the already-bulging trolley. “Both Alice AND Charlotte love these though, hehe!”

“And being models, they’ll probably only be allowed to eat a maximum of two each,” Sarah teased.

The New One
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I had come home from the party early. Walt had been talking to some of his business buddies and I was bored.

“That’s okay, sweetie,” he said. “You go home and slip into something nice and I will be along shortly.”

That was the title of blog by Penny Lane a couple of weeks ago. I made a comment about that and was more or less challenged by her to put my pen where my mouth is (did I get that wrong?). However, at the time I was too busy being immersed in the Finnish partitive to do something about it …

Changes in Attitudes – Part 2
By Kathi Jo Daniels

Saturday, November 20, 2004 – Party

With the assurance that I wouldn’t be paired with a male, we attended the swinging party at Diana and Dawn’s. We knew Laura and were introduced to her business partner, Wanda. Two other couples, Mark and Nancy, and Roger and Lisa, were also introduced. Dawn served everyone a flute of Champagne.

Honeymoon Reveal
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

We had only been married for three years at the time and we had never enjoyed a proper honeymoon. The fact was that after we had met on a dating site and almost immediately, she had thrown herself in to caring for my young sons … and me. My sons and I had all been devastated by the loss of my first wife Marion, their mother, only a year before I met Cherise, but she helped to pull us all out of our dark mood. She said that it was all she wanted - to bury herself in a loving family.

Alex Jones. F5 Trafficked (Involuntary, Forced Feminization)

(On line editing a day later.)

By Gwen Brown

This piece probably skirts the edge of permissibility in the beginning. By the end of Chapter 1 the Protagonist is almost 21 years of age.

Chapter 1

Alex was barely pubescent at age 12+. He had just gotten off the Bus two blocks from his home. That is the last thing he remembered.

Bargirl
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I had made some money and lost some friends and family because of it. I simply decided that I was in a position to let her loose. She was a better person than I was – Ida – the woman inside me.

Brother’s Keeper
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I adored my brother Jason, and I wanted nothing more than to hang around with him. But I knew that I was an embarrassment. I was less than two years younger than him, but I was half his size. He was born to be big, and I was born to be small. He was born to be strong – a natural athlete, and I was born to be … not that. He liked to hang around with his pals – the jocks – Kevin, Brad and Hans. They were guys like him. Guys to be admired by guys like I was.

The Recoverer.
by
Angharad.

This is part 6 of 7 in All-Star Sissy, which is now completed (though I might do more continuations and spinoffs in the future)
If you want to read the last part, read the other stories in this universe, or even commission a story set in this world, check out my patreon:
https://www.patreon.com/c/SissyGirlSammi
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I’m a nerd. I like being a nerd. I never had any other ambition. I’m also a boy. I like being a boy. I never had any other ambition.

Author's notes: As always: (1) I don't care what the devs say, Alisaie is absolutely not 16. By 6.0, she'd be about 23. (2) In a world where no one is explicitly gay or trans, that means anyone can be. Therefore, Alisaie and G'raha are T4T.

- - -

7.0 - SHARLYAN

G'raha was losing his mind.

Both because he badly missed his partners, Savvel and Alisaie, who had set sail for Tulliyolal two weeks and five days ago (the longest they'd been apart since making their arrangement 'official'), and because it was the longest he'd been celibate in... well...

"You'll wear what I tell you."
by
Angharad

When I was eleven my father died. The circumstances are a bit murky, but as far as I can gather it was a mugging that went wrong and my dad was murdered. I don't think I ever got over the shock nor did Mum. She was working but she couldn't afford the mortgage and we had to leave the house. That increased the stress and pain we both felt. I was very close to my mum and this made that even worse

The Huntress
And the Hiker

A lost hiker on the verge of dehydration finds themselves in an otherworldly realm, and a predicament of mythical proportions in this modern day twist on a classical Greek tale.

The next day my alarm went off at 6AM. I took a long soak in the bath. I was half looking forward and half dreading today. I won't lie the thought of dressing as a traditional maid was appealing. The dress I wore before was more of a costume. The dress today was the real thing.

Exams over, we had a few frantic days in London buying up what we thought that we would need for the Summer. This included one more dancing costume each. We asked the shop owner where we could get these adjusted, and had both bra tops cut down to only a support under the breasts. Our short experience of topless dancing had led Lisa to the realisation that she needed support so as not to have to either hold her boobs when dancing, or have them each do an independent dance of their own.