The Loft

Sometime around platform number three I stopped to rest, because everyone else had stopped to rest. I sat, legs splayed in front of me; arms, like a tripod, behind me. Autumn and Sarah were discussing the play we were doing, as if they had both read it. Because they had both read it. The discussion centered around the set design, and had nothing whatever to do with the rest of the play.

1st Meeting

Directly after Drama was Math, and I had some problems finding the classroom. I got no introduction this time, just sat down, and was pleased to learn that our section had been covered last year at my old school. This was going to be a breeze. No studying in for this.

Crew

School

My mom let me take some time to compose myself before she started the car. Again, she didn’t ask anything. I don’t know what she thought happened in there, but I don’t think it was as bad as what actually happened.

When the sniffles had stopped I asked her, “Where are we going next?” Trying to pretend that nothing had happened.

“Well I had a couple appointments scheduled, unless you want to just go home.”

If you are here for the plot, please go back a chapter. Due to a clerical error on my part, it did not appear on the front page.
If you are here for the part where a TG girl masturbates for the first time, go wild.

Exploration

I don’t have any idea what my vagina looks like.

Do all girls know that? Some of them? None of them?

Charles Edward Fitzgerald, CEO of Jugs (America’s #4 casual dining restaurant) slammed his fist down on his desk. “What do you mean, you told them I would do their moronic show? I gave you very explicit instructions.”

His secretary Francesca shuddered. “I’m so sorry—sir,” she hastily added.

“Don’t apologize, just fix this!”

Mom Arrives

I forgot what had happened to me when I woke the next day. I was snuggled in my bed, and reached down to adjust my balls, as you do in the morning.

When I touched soft lips instead, I figured they were hiding away, searched harder and hit something wet. That’s when it all came rushing back to me, and I really let out a sob. I curled deeper, and put my hand to my heart, felt breasts there. In an action I found foreign, feminine, and comforting, I tucked my arm between them, and felt sorry formyself.

Waking Up

I woke up, opened my eyes, and closed them again because it hurt to keep them open. Not that tired-eyes-hurt, but just like they couldn’t focus. I took stock of my surroundings eyes shut.

The first thing I noticed was that my mouth tasted like shit. So bad it had pulled me awake.

“Do you feel guilty?” Dr. Jordan is having a fruit smoothy for her breakfast. I’m dinning on ashes and cold pizza.

“No.” Of all the feeling I feel, guilt is not one.

“Why not?”

I know she’s trying to be helpful so I do my best to explain, “If it was another gun runner Tinoct would have been in the same place, doing the same things.” Getting the same shot. “I don’t supply people who have the odds with them, or I wouldn’t have a job. He was a revolutionary. Not the first to die, not the last, not even the middle.”

“Could you have saved him?”

I bolt upright in bed to the sound of the red alert klaxon. I guess the question of what I can face will have to wait because there’s an emergency somewhere on my ship.

Chinta is several steps away from awake as I rush out the door to find Tinoct. He’s standing in the corridor next to an emergency panel, and he manages to look a little sheepish. “I didn’t know the best way to wake you.”

“Coming to wake me up would be a step above this.” I put in the captain’s code to shut it off, “What’s going on?”

“The police are on their way to shut down the festival.”

“This is Big Bertha,” I tell the aliens, “And she is a beautiful lady.”

We get inside and I give a small tour. There are jump seats outside the flight deck and I show them how to strap in. Urban and sophisticated Tinoct has never flown before, and an ancient freight hauler, loosely bolted together, is a great way to have a first experience. Then I tell them to hang out in the rec room while I run checks. I’ve had to turn off everything at the port, but we aren’t leaving gravity so it’ll only take an hour.

I doze off for around two hours. After the day I’ve had, and the sex I’ve had, I deserve it. I’ve literally been fucked comatose.

When I come to I manage to take stock of the room. I was paying attention to other things earlier.

The decor…

This makes sense, I think to myself. Whatever is happening here makes sense. She pins my wrists against the wall at shoulder height. Why not let her…

But my surprise keeps me from kissing her back immediately.

She pulls back. “I’m so sorry! I was just… it felt like… ” She’s blushing a pretty blue color.

I don’t feel like going from make out mode to embarrassment, so I stretch out my neck for another kiss. Chinta makes a little growl, and slams back into me.

Security is a different beast as I make my way from day to day. One day I will be following an associate in their car into some new part of the world. Another day I will be wearing the black armor guarding and walking with a President or Vice President to some new place. Other days I will be told to remain behind to continue training in fight, self-defense, battle logistics of things no less. It is a very curious job. It has perks that I am able to go out and about more.

I am awake at 4:30 am. Quickly, I dress and shower and groom myself. By 5:30am I am out the door and down to the diner I eat at every year after New Associate Day. I eat oatmeal, fruit and drink a water. At 6:30am, I am making my way back to Fashionable. At Monday at 6:55 am, I am allowed in. By 7:30am I am sitting at a table with all those who had joined Fashionable fifteen years ago, except for Toni – she had died last year. Hannah Short, now President of Security briefs us. “Today, you will be following the first year associate you were assigned to.

When I got back to Tina's room she was still sleeping. I crawled back into bed – avoiding the spoon - and tried to go back to sleep myself, hoping I would wake refreshed. It didn't work. I couldn't get back to sleep. My mind kept churning, trying to reassemble the night.

All I could get was glimpses. Random flashes. Even the tiny snippets were disturbing enough.

I heard Tina's groan and knew she was reluctantly waking. I feigned sleep. I heard her groan. She must have looked at the clock. I heard her leave the room. I guessed shower.

The dance floor was pretty crowded, so there wasn't much room for my small and awkward movements to betray my self consciousness. Geo was a real gentleman. The comfort he projected with my awkward attempts at dancing counterbalanced my extreme social anxiety. I don't know whether it was the exertion of dancing or the fact that I only had a breadstick and a cup of coffee all day, but quickly I could feel the vodka wash over me like a warm mist, dulling the sharp edges of my self-conciousness. Geo seemed to notice it as well. I felt him relax as I relaxed and my dance moves felt more ….fluid.

I had no idea where this would lead. And at the moment, I didn't care.

Checks take about an hour, there’s only three pages to run through. I’m not taking off in an atmosphere, and the engine hasn’t been cool for too long. In fifteen minutes the drive is hot.

Solid fuel is fine. Water is fine. I went out and bought 25 lbs of food. Fresh vegetables and fruit (at an obscene markup), rice, bread, adventuresome pizza, beef, pork, rabbit, sausage, some whale, and gas station sushi. Gas station sushi is never a good idea, and for some reason I keep buying it. I throw out some noodles with a sense of vindication and relief.

An Ideal Saturday
written by TGTrinity

Mason finds a small wooden figurine while helping his neighbor move, and soon the men around him begin to have their deepest desires fulfilled by beautiful women they just met...

Author's Note:
This is a commissioned story that I recently wrote, and I thought others might like it.

Something has broken deep inside me. I cry on the inside, laying in their arms, while I try to process what has happened. Something has happened inside my head and it’s devastating.

Sometimes a hooker would cry after sex. I tried to get offended, but the truth was, I never really cared that much. Not even enough to look down on them for it.

Now the emotional tole of the last two days, hell the last three months, is hitting me more deeply than I thought I could feel. These damn lesbians have mind-fucked me.

The Cruse Or Blessing Of The Hand That Rocks The Cradle
By
Geode

Ronny James learns the futility of worrying about the future and how ignorant he was concerning the reality of the world. When he gets caught up in his girlfriend's very old family's curse.

I was born Ronald James Jr., Ronny to the family the youngest of three children on April First of 1996 the only boy to Ron and Hanna James. I wasn't planned but the result of a romantic Twentieth Anniversary Cruise.

I lead us through a back door in the nightclub. “This club has a deal with us,” I tell Kelly. “We provide security and often bring ourselves here. So, they will let us in, and they will watch out for us. They will get us waters if they know a man is ordering us a drink. Lots of men will come here, looking for someone like us.” We walk in, both feeling the electricity and sex in the room. I order the two of us waters. I hand her the water the water, and say, “Your cryx gives you considerable power over men. But avoid alcohol while wearing it. Alcohol will even the playing field.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A while ago I set about to write an action/horror magical girl story with some Tokyo trans sukeban (read: girl gang) called "The Hellbound Dolls." This vignette follows one of the Dolls, Akane, whose ultimate struggle is to realize she's worthy of love. This installment does not have a happy ending, so read at your own peril.

* * * *

I stand for a long time in front of Paint. They must do a lot of business, they have a fancy sign that changes color and font. This is what you want. Go in there.

I don’t move.

Go in there, Eleven!

I move. Put my hand on the door handle. Open it. Step inside.

The smell in here is overwhelming. A hundred different kinds of perfume. There are vials on the wall. Lotions, soap, scrubby things, all in pastel.

I have entered the Temple of Woman.