A sub and a Dom have decided to move in together, making it official with magic

Reposted from the original Double short-story Collections.

Dan was at home alone. He was twelve and a half year old. It was the age when the half year still counted. He was sure it counted. Dan had planned this day long before and he had prepared everything for today to pass smoothly.

A message from the author

((Fresh edit using Grammarly, also I have a bunch of stuff on Scribblehub, which may come here.))

Words of warning:

Because I’m a nerd: I like to world build

I write for my own amusement: I will not apologize for not being PC to Tumblr definitions on what I am, or how I should act

I am a 45+ Transgender Woman: I am way past caring about other people’s opinions of me.

I am a USMC Veteran: I love firearms, I understand discipline (Not the BDSM stuff) and honor.

Cindy at Music Camp By Teek © 2019 Chapter 05 Marcus and Cindy

Summary: Marcus? Mr. Elks wants a Rock'n Roll guitar player to be a classical music piano player? The other question is what will Mr. Elks decide to do about Cindy now that he knows. He didn't flip out, but that doesn't mean he will allow Cindy to stay.

Cindy at Music Camp By Teek © 2019 Chapter 04 To Play or Not to Play

Summary: Cindy's Panic Attack changes all the plans, then Mr. Elks challenges things set in stone. Cindy's future is on the line.

Cindy at Music Camp By Teek © 2019 Chapter 03 Play For Power

Summary: Cindy spends some time with other Little girls. The Littles start plotting with Samantha over what to do next. Cindy starts to realize the magnitude of what she is about to do and questions her actions. Who is right? Samantha, Jessica, or Mom? Who will have the final say in Cindy's future at camp?

Turn to Gold:
Sequel to Unknown to All

It’s Summer, it’s lovely.
Everything about it is amazing. Experiencing it for the first time in all its glory, that’s a tall order.
All I ever knew was the orphanage after I was put there.
For awhile, school was my refuge.
Even if I wasn’t allowed to interact with classmates, I was still one of them.

Kimberly got up and walked up in front of the class, holding what seemed like an off-brand Barbie of some sort. The doll was about ten inches high, with red hair and a more realistic figure than a Barbie, but still clearly an adult, and dressed in a yellow sundress and strappy sandals.

Would he get so used to dressing as a girl that he would not want to go back to being a boy?

Eating dinner as part of a large family was a new experience for Les.

Les didn't know how to take compliments. He had a lot more experience at being insulted or ignored.

Since his childhood Al was different, not like other boys, and constantly surrounded by the bunch of girls he didn’t fancy them but rather preferred to be one of them. Now as FBI agent Al had an emergency wish in his pocket, though it was for emergency and not for desire of whole life.

Is it hard to be a boy? Or harder to be a girl?

“Where in the world did you come up with a crazy story like that?” Charles chortled.

Tina and I exchanged glances. “It just seemed to fit our outfits and to signal from the start that it wasn't even worth dipping their hook in the water” I smiled.

Charles got the message and smiled with a nod as a waitress arrived with a tray full of appetizers.

“We ordered while you were still dancing.” Maria explained.

We started passing around appetizer plates in a round robin. I saw Tina blanche at the plate of fully loaded nachos and snerked. Tina's mom caught this.

“Chrissy? What's wrong? You always loved nachos?”

I had another counseling session, this time with my parents. I wanted to resolve the growing hostility they had to my dressing as a female. Naturally, my modeling was a big part of it.

After the usual bringing Dr. Devlin up to date, I said, “I get the feeling that my parents want me to totally stop dressing as a girl.”

“Is that true?” she asked my parents.

“Absolutely!” my father asserted and then added, “We think that this has gone on way too far.”

“In what way,” Dr. Devlin asked.

“He’s our son, not our daughter,” my mother answered.