I had intended to leave this story after Part 6, but Part 7 was largely written, so rather than cutting off the story part way through I have uploaded it. I know the number of readers have been dropping steadily. That is understandable, but I do hope that many of you who have persevered have enjoyed the stories.

I had strange dreams and kept waking up. I was Francis running away from a beautiful blue dress. I ran away and screamed for help. No one helped. The dress caught up with me and molded itself around my body. I saw my reflection. I was a beautiful woman. Everyone smiled at me and told me that I was wearing a lovely dress. What did that strange dream mean?

Tessa Greenhart had entered the world biologically male, an insignificant Y-chromosome carelessly tacked onto the end of her DNA. But recent events had proven that biology did not equal destiny; at least not for her. Tessa's body had been a template, a blank page on which sex and gender could be written...

Jan was a short, skinny, blond hair blue eye boy that needed a boost. Things were OK, just

boring, so boring. His life with his mother since his father had been deported back to Germany

was much more calm. His Mother Alice Brown worked as a Legal Assistant with a boring group of
five attorneys. With her husband around her last name was Braun but since the forces separation,
she had Americanized it.

HOPELESS HIGH ON THE FIRST DAY OF THE SCHOOL YEAR

Hopeless High did not live up to my expectations. At first sight it was far, far worse. And to make things even worse “Hopeless High School” really was it’s name. The pride of Hopeless, MT. pop. 6,421, including me now. Hopeless had decided to keep the name because it drew tourists. Perhaps as many as 2 000 every year. Doesn’t sound much but it was the difference between life and deaths – for the motel and the one decent restaurant in town, sorry, city.

She is Erupting
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It may sound crazy, but I answered the phone as her. It was my first femme week of the year, and when I was her, I tried to live her life entirely. Besides, there is something about pulling your phone out of your handbag and daintily sliding a long painted nail across the screen to green, that just keeps her voice on your tongue.

Sometimes, your best friend has to tell you...

Cold as Ice
by Erin Halfelven

Stephanie Part 4 Discoveries

Even though two people had managed to pass through the first filter and listen to the podcast, there were no phone calls, then one evening there was a ring on Stephanie’s phone.

Stephanie pressed to receive the call and put it on speaker phone for Graham to listen.

A broad Scotts accent said. “Am I through to the Help Line?”

“If it is the Help Line you read after the Podcast, then, Yes.”

“I am told my name is Kirsty, although until two days ago it was Hamish. I am sitting with Kirsty’s Mum, Lucy.”

“Where are you?”

Stephanie (Part 2) - The Wedding

Six weeks came and went. With Stephanie’s muscle memory and Graham’s mental memory, the couple learned not just the Waltz and Quickstep, but also a passable Jive during the lessons in the local primary school.

The teacher was amazed that they progressed so quickly.

“You seem to know what each one of you is about to do before you do it. Your mutual empathy is amazing.” she said once.

“Stephanie, it is time to get up. You have 30 minutes to get to the bus!”

I was 16 and I was desperate. Oh, not because I was bullied in school. I was but that wasn’t it. I was used to THAT. No, the problem was mother and her health. That and money, or rather the lack thereof.

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I hadn’t planned to see her that day. Honestly, if I’d known my sister wasn’t home yet, I probably would’ve made some excuse, dropped her charger off another time, and avoided this… situation entirely. But fate — or bad timing — decided otherwise.

Visa

The police grilled Finley concerning his whereabouts during the time when the deaths occurred, but eventually his solicitor James, one of Finlay’s sons, said, “That’s it, Gentlemen. You now have to either charge my father or let him go. You know he was nowhere near the victims when their murders occurred and have no evidence a magistrate would accept to authorise you to retain him, so unless you wish to end up in the dock I suggest you allow him to go home.” Reluctantly they released Finley.

It started with one click.

Not even a dramatic one. Just... casual. Bored. I was laying in bed, one hand scrolling, the other halfway down my boxers, pretending I was gonna do something else tonight. But I wasn’t. I never do.

Today I will tell you a crossdressing story that began with something so innocent, I almost didn’t notice I was changing.

I guess you could say Lisa was the nurturing type.
She always wanted to do little things for me — fold my laundry, cook me dinner, even organize my closet. At first, I thought it was just her way of showing love. But then came… the vitamins.

A Trip to Las Vegas
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

“Somebody is very mad at you” was the title of this image by Robyn2801

This story is set in a real place, a real time and is based around a real incident. I have used generic terms such as Militia and Infiltrators as I don’t want readers to be distracted by the politics. Anyone who is familiar with the area will be easily able to identify these groups and even the location of my platoon base. But none of this is important: The story is about the people.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************

“A wadi patrol?”

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