Bru

0300Z Defence HQ New Year Resolution

I woke up to a bright winter morning in the room where I had woken up most my eighteen years. I just had had one of my one in every six weeks off. I lazed around and the had lunch with my parents. After that I got myself ready for my night job and headed out to the metro. In the metro people stared at me as usual. Since this was the age of Aquarius military uniforms were few and far between on the streets of the capital, especially on January 1. I grumbled over the fact the voyage took all of 15-20 minutes from door to door. I especially didn’t like the 200 m between the metro station and Defence HQ. That winter was COLD.

Crossdress deception

This is not a contest entry.
I possibly could have worked in a New Year resolution but there is NO way I could fluff up this fluff to 2500 words. (Let’s see if I can make that stick THIS time.)

Last week I met my old friend Larry. He was in love. I suppressed an inner sigh. Larry often fell in love and then out again just as quickly. Always very chaste. He really was a 40-year-old virgin. He had very fixed ideas about the object of his love(s). One was that he never wanted to see them nude. And then he had this tendency to fall for the wrong ones.

Contest Resolution

”My New Year Resolution is to the win the school beauty pageant this year!”

That came at the end of several days of not so subtle pressure on me. Not to participate in the pageant but to “man up” and be more assertive and competitive. My family is very competitive. No matter what, they always competed. Sports, academics, work … you name it. My big brother was the school quarterback, my big sister was the girls’ athletics team leader. Since they were twins and seniors they also competed to be the valedictorian. That fight was vicious.

All-American High School

First day of Fall semester 2022
I don’t like when people call our town racist. I mean it’s only natural that we whites call the shots since we are the majority, 51% of the population, with the rest more or less evenly divided between beaners and nig… blacks. I almost forgot that you can’t use the N word unless you’re one. It’s not like we’ve had any cross burnings in years. We even have … blacks on our high school football and basketball teams. You know, they’re like genetically predisposed for that. Not any beaners though, they are pathetically useless both in sports and academically. Excepting Pablo of course. With a pitcher like that they couldn’t keep him off the team. Not that the baseball team is of any importance anyway. The few chinks, like Sissy, are terrible gunners and of no consequence socially. Sissy is not really her real name but who can pronounce that?

Relevant Dress Code

As soon as I woke up I knew that this would be another scorching hot June day. It also meant that the boys’ decision to stage a skirt-protest against the dress code not allowing shorts would be implemented that day. I smiled. I had the most dashing skirt I was planning to wear. I decided to really girly up. Instead of having my long blonde hair in a low ponytail I decided to let it flow down to my shoulders over my ears. I picked my favourite white blouse and some thin tights. The tights somewhat negated the purpose of the protest but I couldn’t resist.

Life is a Drag

The London drag club was not in the least CD, sorry seedy. The audience was quite sophisticated and the ambiance friendly and gay (in the original sense of the word). The artists were top of the range. They were not only beautiful but very talented as well. If some of them wore skimpy costumes that was not the only thing they had to offer. However, the star of the evening could not be accused of wearing skimpy attire, nor was “she” young and beautiful. The only way to describe the “Baroness” was outrageous.

Fall Guy

This is a sequel to Summer Girl. The reason I’ve written one of my rare sequels is not because I had an unused twist littering my brain. I just wanted to pursue the relationship. Well, that was how it started anyway. Then started writing. Regardless of how the second part of the story developed it definitely is a spoiler for Summer Girl.

I never did go to the homecoming dance with Hank.

Twelve Nights

Twelve nights, they said. Only twelve nights for me to stand in for my sister. I only really had to worry about the nights they said. I’d laugh if it didn’t hurt so much in my shot wound and I don’t want to upset the police officer outside my hospital room. Only twelve nights, HA!

Bouquet List

Tom, Dick and I, Harry had been best friends since primary school. How we had been teased for our names over the years. We stuck together through middle and high school. We hung out together. Got into trouble together. Somehow Tom always managed to extricate himself and I managed to shield Dick from the worst consequences. In high school we usually triple dated. We also stood together against the bullies. We were unfortunate in that we were considered to be “cute” in a girly way. Unfortunately that also invited some unwanted attention from the gay community. We weren’t. Gay that is.

Smith-the-Ghost

I got off the bus swearing at myself in a village in the middle of nowhere where only a few poor sods could understand English. It was in December 1947 and the quicksilver would have shown minus 40 if it had been able to. It had been a very long journey and the worst part had been the last. 4 hours on a rickety bus that didn’t even pretend to be a coach! I had to remind myself why the hell I was there. Sure, the case interested me but the real reason was that Boston wasn’t big enough for both me and the men in black.

Take Your Daughter to Work Day

Of course it’d have to be on a “Take your daughter to work day” that we visit this factory. Of course, for me every day is “Take your daughter to work day.” I’m surrounded by small and big girls eager to ask me lots and lots of questions while my mother does what presidential candidates do. I hate having to participate in my mother’s campaigning but that’s Mother for you. Whatever can be useful not only can be used but MUST be used.

La Cucaracha

I don’t know exactly when I started loving Paula. Probably it was a slow process. We had been friends since we were toddlers. As the years went on Paula bloomed into a very beautiful girl. We both got scholarships to a very good high school. She was very popular in school. She was a great athlete. She was very competitive. I wasn’t. Not popular, not competitive. not an athlete. Not that I was an outcast or anything like that but I wasn’t exactly one of the IN crowd. Surprisingly Paula kept being my friend. We studied together in the evenings and so on. The problem was that I wanted us to be boyfriend and girlfriend. That was a constant pain that I was too afraid to do something about. As it turned out I was right in thinking that we’d never become boyfriend and girlfriend.

I had Expected My Sophomore Year to be Boring

I grew up in a smallish town in one of the Prairie states. The town has about 50 000 inhabitants. It was quite a straight town. The straws in the surrounding wheat fields were straight. The plough furrows were straight. The edges of the fields were straight as were the roads separating them. The roads just kept on going straight on until they disappeared beyond a horizon unobscured by hills, mountains or forests. In town the streets were straight and the blocks square. To be honest the people were straight and square as well. Even my sister’s flushes were straight.

First Brat

I gritted my teeth but kept a smile on my lips. While I knew this would come up in my job interview, I had hoped it wouldn’t. Even six years later I got sick thinking about it. Hope hadn’t conquered reality.

Yes, I’m the one Secret Service agent that survived that debacle. And no, I wasn’t fired. I resigned. And the reason I resigned wasn’t the death of the President and her husband. It was all the fault of the First Brat,

The Only Boy in the Girls' Locker Room

Sometimes I hate being the only boy in the girls’ locker room. Usually that coincides with my fellow cheerleaders deciding to tease me. Not verbally, visually, in the showers. That can be quite annoying. Not that I get any help from the girls’ coach either. She just smiles and say that I have no one but myself to blame.

Locker Room Complaints

Principal’s office. A tired looking woman is shown in. The Principal rises and welcomes the woman.

Principal: I’m very sorry to have had to ask you to come here Mrs Dupont but we have received complaints from several parents regarding your daughter in the locker room.

Mrs Dupont (sighing and near to tears): Oh, no not AGAIN! Why can’t they let sweet little Bobbie alone. She has not harmed anyone. And I thought the court order would have settled all that. It clearly states that Bobbie is a GIRL!

Just Because I'm a Girl Doesn't Mean

I groan as I reluctantly wake up. My mother has just given me a good shake before leaving my room. Monday mornings aren’t exactly my favorite. Then I see the outfit my mother had picked out for me today. A nice black A-line skirt and a very frilly blouse. Add to that black pantyhose and shoes with a distinct heel and frilly underwear. I groan yet another time. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean that I’m a girly girl.

Unless you are obsessed with UK politics you may have missed

In the ongoing process of selecting the new leader for the Conservative and Unionist Party and thus for the next UK Prime Minister there appears to be two main issues. How much they want to lower taxes (much, very much or extremely much) and the war on woke. In particular trans rights (or rather the limitiation thereof) appears to one of the most pressing problems the UK faces.

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Dating a Cheerleader

I had always been fascinated by cheerleading, or was it cheerleaders? They were just so cute in their uniforms. So happy and positive. The way they moved. Yes, I really liked cheerleaders. I dreamt about dating one. And then there was the choreography. Yeah, sounds strange for a newly minted high school freshman boy but I had a thing for choreography. I just couldn’t stop watching dance videos. Lately I had started to wonder how to improve the stuff I watched.

Anyway, my fascination with cheerleaders was the reason I was watching the tryouts. I wasn’t the only boy watching. The stands were not exactly crowded but there were a fair number of both girls and boys, mostly boys though, watching the tryouts. Some of the girls down there were good, some not so good. Watching a particularly bad example I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut. That’s a character fault of mine. Speaking before thinking. You know, open mouth, insert foot.

Audrey Hepburn and I

New school year, new school!

To be honest it was quite daunting to come to the huge High School from our smallish Middle School. Fortunately there were two of us. Me and my fraternal twin sister. Why do people talk about “fraternal twin” when it’s about a girl? Anyway, there we were. Cary and Katherine against the world. Well, not really. Even if the big school scared us, which we’d NEVER admit to anyone else, we didn’t really have anything to fear. We usually found it easy to find new friends or at least gET along with people. We had very good grades without being pegged as nerds since we were good at sports as well. Both Sis and I had selected courses geared towards science and technology with future engineering degrees in mind.

As expected, there was a huge crowd milling around. Sis and I got lost at first and then we ran into an Audrey Hepburn look-alike. She really owned the style. Short hairstyle, black turtleneck, slim black trousers, and ballet flats. Body language was similar as well as far as I could see. Sis could hardly keep herself from laughing. As it happens, I’m a great fan of Audrey Hepburn. As it turned out “Audrey” both was heading to the same homeroom as Sis and I AND she’d been smart enough to print out a map before coming. We happily followed her lead. In my case very happily as I walked behind her and Sis.

T-Girl on the Prowl

“I’m a T-girl on the prowl”

I was shocked, absolutely shocked to hear that from the absolutely fabulous girl that just had appeared as out of thin air beside me when I was about to sit down at my table in a very classy and expensive restaurant. However, I was even more curious, so I invited her to join me for dinner. She was not only incredibly beautiful and sexy but also one of the funniest and smartest girls I ever had had the pleasure of having dinner with, and believe me I have met many, many beautiful girls.

Black Cat Investigations

Black Cat Investigations – that’s what it says on the door to my downtown office.,

I’m Black by the way. No, I don’t mean that I’m black. Do I confuse you? What I mean is that my name is Black but I don’t have any African roots (that I know about). Actually, I’m white, almost albino white, blonde (nice wavy hair), 6’4”, 200 lbs almost purely muscles apart from the skeleton, firm chin, chiseled features, snappy dresser and so on.

Undercover

I wasn’t exactly thrilled to change schools for my junior year. That meant that I would try to fit in a school with already established groupings. Awkward. To make things even more awkward I was the only new student in junior year apart from the more notorious one. A transgender girl started at the same time as I.

Returning to Walker’s Pass

I hadn’t been home for a very long time. Actually, I hadn’t been home since I went away to college more than ten years ago. My parents and siblings preferred to come to the big city, New York, instead to see me. Much more exciting than our little town. The town could have been the model for a Hallmark movie. Everyone knows everybody and all that. The church socials, the Christmas market. Well, you get the picture(s).

Since I was going to move to Paris (France, not Texas) I finally decided to go back once before I moved. Of course, my family would love to visit Paris with the excuse of visiting me, so we’d still see each other but it was Christmas and all that… Also, I have to admit that part of the reason I went back was so that I could brag about my new position as the manager of our Paris office. Quite a career move for a young woman, especially one born as a boy.

C

I had not expected to be almost killed during the first lecture when I went to university. At least not by the professor.

Recently I mentioned in a comment that I wrote a blog many years ago where the fictional characters from my stories had a get-together. Someone suggested that I write another one. Given that the number of characters has increased significantly since, I thought it would be impractical (and inadvisable during the pandemic).

However, I just noted that there were 99 Bru stories up on BCTS. This story will make it an even 100, or as the Romans wrote: C. Then I thought about the get together again but modified it. We meet most of my characters in high school (or equivalent). It’s reasonable to assume that many of them will continue to college/university. What if some of them, by no means all of them, happened to wind up at the same university?

Last Concert

Please note that this story is not tagged “Advanced Bru readers”.

I knew it was a big mistake to go on stage again after I had stopped touring when Covid-19 struck. The last two years had been the best of my life and I had absolutely no wish to resume my stage career as Daisy Sweetheart, the soppy singer/songwriter. Especially since it was obvious that this concert would be a disaster. I hesitated before going onstage but my manager gave me a shove and I walked out there. If only I hadn’t swiped that book from my sister five years earlier.

Cory's Changes

It all started with Cory’s Grand-aunt. As it turned out she really was Cory’s Grand-uncle if you had a strict legal view of things. Unfortunately she was extremely rich and equally extremely convinced that Cory really was a girl inside. Admittedly Cory wasn’t exactly the alpha-male type and some of his interests, such as ballet, were considered by many as a bit girlish but being a girl? No way!

For years Cory had been able to duck most of her attempts while at the same time avoiding insulting the old lady. That was Cory, ever polite and NICE but always managing to glide around obstacles, like water, and finally get his own way. Then the old lady passed away and Cory found himself the heir of a substantial fortune. Provided he spent one complete year as a girl of course.

Clothing and gender

Re-reading some old comments I was reminded of how what is regarded as male or female garb depends on time and place.

In many countries men walk around in what really is the same thing as dresses. In Suva I saw a bunch of teenage schoolboys in their school uniform skirts. And what about the cute little skirts Greek guard soldiers wear?

If I remember correctly Romans despised Britons as barbarians for wearing bifurcated garments on their lower body.

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A Better Mousy Trap

This is one of my rare sequels. Quite obviously it’s a sequel to Mousy Trap, well, sort of.
However, it can read as a stand-alone story.

I’m Jane. I don’t fit in. I’m a girl despite what I look like. I’m weird. I’m a tomboy, a terrible one. I’m an outsider.
And that was already before we moved and I had to change schools before my sophomore year in high school.

That’s how I presented myself the first day in the new high school

The Beast of the Number or Vingt Mille Kudos Sous les Mers

Perhaps I’m not really the Beast of the Number but I do like to play with numbers. Hard to avoid that, burdened as I am by heritage and education. In the mix you have accounting, engineering, statistics-based “sooth-saying”, business administration. Oh, forget about that last, those people can’t count. I mean how hard is the equation of a straight line?

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Mousy Trap

I had worked from home all day in case I’d have to go to my children’s school urgently so when the school bus stopped on the street I could see my son running to our house, sweep up the door and dash up the stairs with his modest skirt flapping and tears ruining his makeup. Then I heard his bedroom door bang shut.

I turned to my daughter who had traversed the distance to the house in a more leisurely pace.

”The experiment was not a success?”
”You could say that.”

In a League of Her Own

I was really looking forward to starting high school. For one thing my parents had assured me that this time we would live in the same place for at least five years. This meant that I wouldn’t have to change schools before I graduated. Just imagine, going to the same school for my entire high school experience! So far the only constant factor in my life had been the inconsistency. Ever since we moved from my ”native” Finland when I was two we never had lived in the same place for more than two years. This had really not been good for my social life.

I Hadn't Expected to Be the First in My Class with Boobs

It was a Monday, I had just showered after PE and was alone in the middle school locker room. I usually was since I almost always helped coach tidy up after class. Coach had reminded me many times that “sucking up” wouldn’t get me any better grades. That didn’t matter, I LIKED helping people. Why shouldn’t I? It wasn’t like I lost anything by doing that. Coming into the locker room late meant that I didn’t have to deal with the crowd in the rather small locker room. Much less stressful. After PE I had lunch break and coming late meant that I didn’t have to hustle in the queue in the canteen.

Anyway, I was sitting there alone in the locker room scratching my chest that had been bothering me for some time. Maybe I had some kind of inflammation since I had developed mounds there. I didn’t like to see doctors but if this continued I just might have to. That was when coach happened to come into the locker room.

Ruth

I really should have known what a mistake it was to try to drown my sorrows after being dumped (again). And this time I had made such efforts to make it work.

I really shouldn’t have let Rolf take me to a bar to seek oblivion in the bottom of a glass, or more precisely lots of glasses.

We really shouldn’t have tried to chat up those two freshman girls from The Other University and thus by definition losers.

The only good thing was that Rolf had chosen a bar where we were unknown and unlikely to meet anyone we knew nor ever to return.

How I Got Involved in a Murder Attempt on a Latin American President

This story differs slightly from most of my other stories.
a) It's one of the longest stories I have posted here
b) It's more of story/tale than usual
The r rating is for violence, not really graphic and mostly referred to. NO graphic sex

Possessed

To be honest I was worried about starting high school. All right, I was terrified. Middle school had been bad enough for my friend Phil and me. And that school was a good and smallish school. The high school we were going to was huge.

Fortunately I had a big sister that not only could coach us but, amazingly, was willing to. Though she did warn us that in school she would not recognize us or in any way admit she was related to me. After all she was the new head cheerleader.

No Acting

I was very surprised when I got a call from Philip. He invited me to be his date for the premiere of his sister’s new action movie. I had not expected him to invite me, his old high school girlfriend. Admittedly that was only a couple of year ago but I had dumped him with some very harsh words. Not that he wasn’t a macho jerk fixated on martial arts but, anyway, there was no need for me to be THAT cruel to him. Actually he was a rather pathetic figure always in the shadow of his older, gorgeous and popular sister Anne. Well, Anne really enjoyed putting him down. Partly from guilt but mostly because I’d never been to a big Hollywood premiere I accepted.

A Very Not Accidental Cheerleader

My freshman year in high school was quite remarkable. I managed to go through an entire year without making anything at all out of it. Well, scholastically I did reasonably well. Socially? I might just as well not have existed. I failed to get into any sports team. I failed to excel in any other way. I failed to get even ONE date, and that was definitely not for want of trying. I had no real friends. I had a few acquaintances that socially were as remarkable as I but that was all.

At the end of that year the school had come to the realization that the cheerleader team couldn’t possibly be at all events where they were wanted. The decision was taken to create a JV cheerleading team. Cheerleading was an exclusively female thing in our school. However, there was nothing in the rules that stopped a boy being a cheerleader provided he followed the rules. The rules would be the same as for the senior team. Same conduct rules. Same dress code, including wearing the skirted cheerleading uniform on match days and a nice dress at required obligatory social events.

I may have been a bit deranged but I decided that this was my opportunity to stand out, and get close to cute and popular girls. Best case, even share a locker room with them! I mentioned it to Carl, the nearest thing I had to a friend, and he just looked at me and shook his head. Well, I wasn’t to be discouraged by that.

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