Transgender Interactive Stories Novels & Stories

"He’s drawing his answer?" Tobi turned the book around. He hadn't drawn the sun or the market women. He had drawn Nike but not as she stood there. He had drawn her as a series of overlapping, frantic lines, her microphone elongated like a spear, and her heart depicted as a small, quiet bird trapped in a cage of bangles. Underneath, he wrote: "If I speak, you will only hear my voice. If I paint, you might see your own." Nike froze. She looked at the drawing, then at the quiet boy with the stained hands. The "Electric Indigo" of her persona seemed to soften into a muted "Lilac."

Trigger Warnings 18+ ONLY This collection contains explicit sexual content including: Graphic MM sex scenes BDSM dynamics Dubious consent Power exchange Rough sex Possessive/dominant behavior Strong language Reader discretion is strongly advised. A collection of stories about men who want more... Strangers in dark clubs, rivals who can't keep their hands off each other, alphas and Omegas bound by something older than either of them, two men who've been circling each other for years finally giving in. Every story stands alone. Every story burns differently. Some are quick and dirty, some take their time. Some are about the first time, and some are about the last

“Then maybe that’s your answer.” Later that night, Ryan stood by his window. The streetlights blurred in the distance. His inbox pinged again a reply from L. Tansey, offering a call. He didn’t answer yet. Instead, he opened a blank page. And he typed: “A Story That Doesn’t Belong To You” by Ryan Calloway He stared at the title for a long moment. Then under it, he wrote: “This isn’t a story about revenge. It’s about reclaiming.” Two weeks later.

Despite our friendship, Meredith still didn't understand the balancing act that transgender women like me went through. My entry into middle age had heralded in a new chapter in my journey of sexual self-discovery. I had moved on from anonymous "fuck me" hookups fueled by Internet message boards to slightly-less-anonymous encounters via online dating sites. It had been months since I had run away from that swamp, tired of the constant "Transgender 101" I found myself teaching, my ego bruised and battered from men who abruptly went silent on me the minute they discovered I was trans. As I mentally ticked off some of the more-unpleasant rejections, my inner monologue grumbled that the hassle s

Each message, a virtual echo of the resonance Sophia's tale had created, attested to the power of storytelling to connect hearts and kindle hope in even the darkest corners of life. Abigail, fueled by the profound impact of their project, took "Sophia's Resilience" beyond the boundaries of the digital space. Her journey as a storyteller expanded into the physical realm as she became a beacon of inspiration in hospitals and support groups. The echo of her voice reverberated through these spaces, carrying the story of love, loss, and resilience to those who were grappling with their own challenges.

All he knows is that I’m a thirty-two-yearold scientist with a kinky side. The only thing I’ve been honest about is my kink. Through my texts, I’m brave. I write my heart out. I tell him my innermost thoughts and the most depraved of my fantasies. I don’t know if I can be that way in real life.

, and said one sentence that I will never forget: "This ass would be wasted for a straight guy." He gave me the phone and we didn't talk about that incident again that day. The next day we watched the Darts World Championship together on Discord, where he again mentioned my ass. He said if a girl sent him this pic and my dick was replaced by a vagina, he would pound the shit out of her. That made me so horny, but I was too excited to flirt with him. I didn't masturbate for 3 weeks now because I tried to do NoFap, since I saw the benefits of it when I tried it for 90+ - I could pull a lor more girls. But that changed 2 days before Christmas on the 22.12.2023 - he wrote me that he was home alo

And then pens started moving. By the end of the week, Ethan had read over twenty stories. Each one gutted him. A trans girl’s poem about her childhood name feeling like a haunted house. A nonbinary student’s short story about a tree that only grew crooked when no one was looking. A gay student who wrote a letter to a father who never spoke again after he came out. Ethan wept alone in his office after reading the last one. And when he got home, he didn’t speak much, just hugged Nathan tightly, burying his face into his chest like the world was too heavy again.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who likes to sit like this. "What I'm about to tell you is real, and I promise you that I'm not crazy." I look into his eyes and see how worried he is. I raise my hand and stroke his cheek. "I don't think you're crazy. What is it?" I wait, and when he speaks, I think I may have hit my head again because this can't be true. "I'm a weregorilla."

The deal we eventually have comes to take a lot of negotiating. My demands? I want Anna to quit Onlyfans and give up her budding, fledgling p**n career. That is the toughest sell, especially when I learn how much cash she is generating. But having something she wants, (my cock — never would have been able to predict that this is what parenting will come to), I am able to get her to really listen to me as I talk about the impact it can have on her future, and the impact it is having on her right now. I learn that Kiara's sister is doing it too, but without any of the nudity Anna is offering on her site, and that Anna feels she can no longer talk about it with Samantha, making her feel isolate