Cynosure by Transfemme from DopplerPress


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Available through Doppler Press for the first time, Cynosure by Tracy Lane (Transfemme) is a tribute to the classic transgendered fiction of the 1960s, duly updated for a contemporary audience. Written in a racy, graphic style recalling the pulp era, The Cynosure Collection explores transsexual fantasies from a variety of exotic viewpoints as each of the characters are exposed to various levels of pleasure, embarrassment, and humiliation.



by Tracy Lane

Hypothetically Speaking...

comic page

Imagine you have a case of terminal cancer, and your only hope for survival is an experimental new therapy which will rewrite your genetic code at the molecular level. On the upside, you will live in perfect health for at least another sixty years. On the downside, you will have the appearance of a beautiful teenaged girl for the rest of your life.

Anybody want to work on a collaborative book...


book cover

...the proceeds of which will be given to Big Closet for the upkeep of the site?

Here's the pitch: a series of thematically-connected short stories, comprising a tribute to the classic TG fiction of the 40s, 50s and 60s. The content would be 'sexy' rather than pornographic, suggestive rather than crude, and risque rather than vulgar.

Which of your childhood fantasies have you incorportated into your work?


Speaking for myself, most of my fiction is based on role-plays I developed during early childhood. My very first involved being a chorus girl, an idea I picked up after seeing the cancan performed in an old horror movie.

Latest Idea: Transgendered Colouring book

Proposed Cover

Had this idea a while ago; only just getting 'round to producing the sketches now. I was thinking that the book could have a full colour cover with 21 black & white line drawings on the interior. Each illustration would include a banner on which the reader could write their own caption. Published as an ebook, it could be downloaded and printed out, or just colourized in photoshop.



Standing in a pool of moody backstage lighting, Charise Granger drew her t-shirt slowly over her head, revealing a shining white satin bra, the kind with detachable straps and tiny lace trimmings around the cups. She paused a moment to shake out her strawberry blond hair and moisten her full, crimson lips, stealing a glance at the mirror. A tall, delicately built young woman with alabaster flesh and liquid blue eyes looked back.

The Fever (Suspender Stockings)


Angie stepped into the changing booth, laying her purchase over the chair. Cheeks flushed with girlish pleasure, she shut out the busy hum of the showroom, reaching back to unzip her bright red sun-frock. A trim young girl with wavy blond hair trailing down past her shoulders, she smiled with the vaguely guilty expression of a child caught with her hand in the candy jar.

Her Tender Mercies


A bolt of panic shot down my spine when I heard the key settling in the lock. My eyes flickered over towards the door: it had to be Aunt Cathy! What was she doing home so early? She'd headed off to her bridge club less than fifteen minutes ago; I wasn't expecting her back for several hours. My pulse lept into overdrive as key slid into place with an audible clack!

Fallen Angel


Aunt Julene woke me up at precisely 6:31, sweeping lightly into the bedroom with a breakfast tray between her hands. This was nothing unusual in itself, I'd been subjected to these dawnlight raids for a the past couple of couple of years. Her voice sliced through the air like a keen-edged blade.

"Rise and shine, sleepy-head," she chimed in bright, tinkling tones that raked my ear-drums like fingernails on a blackboard, "your appointment's at nine, and we can't lie around all day."


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