It all started with checking my radio while driving and then there were the lights of another car and then a flash of light of another kind. Now I'm in the body that I've always wanted only it comes with being married and being a mom.

Monad crept slowly across the overgrown, neglected gardens, staying out of sight of the cameras. "Are you sure somebody lives here?," Monad wondered aloud, "It looks kind of degraded." "I'm sure. It's registered to a Hailey Bonne, and she's definitely in the building now. Probably sleeping though," Demiurge replied through Monad's headset. Monad soon made it to the west wall of the mansion, and began sliding across, checking for unsecured windows.

Arabella was enjoying herself as they sailed down to Florida. Once her mom and dad explained what happened up on deck. She felt scared to sleep by herself the following night. So, she slept with Gina and Arnold.

The trip down to Florida was nice and Arabella loved it a lot. When they arrived in Florida, Gina and Arnold took Arabella sightseeing and to Disney World. Arabella had never been to somewhere so big before and stayed next to Gina and Arnold.

A short story...

A sequel to Goodbye, Little Girl! …

Copyright © 2018 by AuP reviner

For whom it may concern at the Grandvale Gazette:

Tonight, talking with the Godmother, I realized I don't want to work like this anymore. I've found a new position somewhere else, and don't bother looking for me. Nothing you say could win me back. You'll have to find someone else to boss around and make do the jobs you don't want to.

Sincerely,
Henry Sharp

The ending part of the ongoing story that started almost three years ago. There were some inquires for that first story, The Waltz, to be continued. I was stuck somwhere in the middle and couldn't find an acceptable continuation untill now.

I opened the mansion's front doors wide, and got the attention of my guests. "My apologies for the wait, everyone! Please, let me introduce a friend that is staying with me." The Godmother stepped into view, and bowed for everyone. "My name is Elena, and Hailey is giving me a place to stay in exchange for some legal help with the inheritance. Please follow us to the ballroom."

Ursula finds herself in a Watch station with Brodgar accused of murder. Wallesan is forced to intervene, but afterwards Ursula informs him that she has a story to tell. Cue murder, arson, flight, disguise, terror, desperation and relentless pursuit!

The Voyage of the Visund

A tale of Anmar by Penny Lane

15 - The Fugitive

The first few days, I kind of lost myself in just how much new and great-feeling everything was. Godmother showed me each of the different rooms of the Bonne house, and I asked her questions along the way. My new bedroom was luxurious, featuring a king size bed with an overhead satin draw-curtain, and comfortable sheets that felt like clouds against my new soft skin. “Remember, you only have to sleep if you wish to,” the Godmother reminded me, “And if you wish to use this room as a private space, simply ask and I will turn off my sensation here.” I giggled.

Raven was bent over the front of a car she was working on when she is slapped on the ass. She stands up and turns around to see who just slapped her on her ass. She was getting tired of being treated like she was a piece of meat to be used.

She comes face to face with her boss. He was treating her as his own personal sex slave.

“Come with me, Raven.” Dave was feeling horny and wanted to fuck Raven.

“But I have to finish this car.” Raven didn’t want to go with Dave.

"He's gone. I'm going to be ME!"

Sometimes taking that first step is as big as 'One giant step for Mankind' and I've always been a woman. Haven't I?

Previously this was titled "I’ve done 25 – will I get to 26? Is it over." The OLD subtext said 'If these were lyrics they could be better – but I’m doing this My Way – or the highway – or the low way. And sorry – it may sound like this is going to be a suicide story – but – nope – not this time.'
I think it wasn't being read because of the bad vibes. I was trying to be punny about the number of 500-word stories. And jokes suggesting suicide don't work. Sorry.

The 25th AP-500 story - and none has, yet, been borrowed or adapted - come on, folks and folkesses,