"My name is Xavier Ortiz, I am a journalist." I looked at Colonel Rodriguez standing in front of me, it wasn't just the jungle green uniform that scared me or the machine pistol he held so casually, its barrel pointed directly at my forehead, it was the look in his eyes that really had me worried. I could see that he didn't believe me even though he had my p...
Miles held the door of the diner open for Ana as she walked into the dimly lit restaurant. The diner had an old-fashioned look, as if the furnishings had been there for years and years. The walls were lined with booths, each booth featuring the listings for a jukebox sitting in the corner. Poor, modern country music was playing. There was also a bar with sea...
Oddly, the fear of running out of money during the long overland journey soon proved to be a chimerical concern. If anything, their coin purses just seemed to grow fatter and heavier with every stop that they made along the road! Right from the very start, Oddtus had made some sort of deal with a westward going caravan heading towards the big walled city of...
Normally, this was his favourite time of day. No one in the library but him. Just him and the books. Ahhh, the books, his books. Inhaling deeply, he could almost taste the knowledge contained within these tombs, some bound with loving care, others with a splash of glue and little thought. Many people sneezed when they entered the library, the tickle of motes...
Hey all! We're still in the stilted-language phase of this story, but we'll soon leave it. Also, some have rightly pointed out the many gaps in the science of it all... I don't defend my grasp of xenobiology, or even some of the more basic concepts that I don't convey correctly in these pages, but I hope you can suspend disbelief for the sake of narrative an...
My name is Steven aka Kirsten. This story is about how I went from a closet cross dresser to becoming a full time transgender slave. This story is mostly true, based on my journals with dramatic license to make it more exciting and readable. Names have been changed. This is who I am. A special thanks to Shy Girl Whore for her help with polishing this story!...
The next day, life began to return to its normal state at The Meadows, as the staff labored to remove all traces of the ball. Pieces of furniture were moved back to their original locations, the yards of decorative fabric were taken down and carefully stored for future use, and the huge house was once again cleaned and polished to a sparkling sheen. Steven a...
For the past ten years I've been "the closer" for our firm—the person who travels to the client to make the final pitch for the big contract. If you'd asked me when I was 18 or even 25 whether sales was something I would be good at, I would have just laughed. When I was in college my friends dubbed me "the lurker" because I preferred to stay on the fringes o...
Dear Betsy, I have done something terrible. I'm not exactly sure how it will be terrible, but which ever way it turns out I know that terror will follow. As you know (as everyone knows by now) my reaction was purely instinctive and of course immediate. What you may not know is how much less than immediate it actually was. I knew the girl for about three mo...
The air conditioner kept the tractor cab to the same comfort level as my living room in spite of the ninety-five degrees of searing, July heat. I hit the hydraulics to raise the cultivator, made the turn, and lined back up on the next eight rows of soybeans. Another tap on the hydraulic lever caused the gleaming sweeps to bite into the rich, black, Illinois...