Ally suffers verbal and physical abuse from his father and needs to escape. Little did he know how his life would change for the better. Note, abuse is inferred rather than graphically detailed

**Trigger Warning: Explicit Content**

Dear reader, if you've followed us through the journey of this series, please be aware that just like its previous parts, this vignette unfolds with vivid and explicit storytelling. Your boundaries are valued and respected. Therefore I warmly encourage you to listen to your feelings and prioritize your well-being when choosing to engage with this content.

For those who find solace and excitement within my work, you are all invited to this casting call.

Katz was halfway through her exercise routine when her roommate Alicia came walking over to her. She loved how sexy Alicia’s body looked. She wished she had a body like hers but had to work to maintain her body. The hormones she was taking made her hungry, and she had to be careful.

Katz stops and looks at Alicia. “What’s up, sis?”

“I’m heading to that new vegan restaurant that just opened up. Do you want to join me?” Alicia knew Katz worked hard to keep her body trim and curvy.

“Sure, I was just finishing up my routine.” Katz wipes the sweat from her forehead.

Spencer walks around the mall with his friends. Only Jason and Greg knew his secret: He wished he was a girl instead of a boy. They caught him one day wearing a pair of panties and pantyhose to school. His parents didn’t even know he wished he was born a girl. They just thought he liked dressing up as a girl. For Halloween, he dressed up as a sexy anime girl from one of his favorite anime shows.

Morning Time At Clair’s Farm House:
Clair and Jasmine wake up first. Clair was the first one up and put her robe and slippers on, before walking downstairs. She peeks in on the young lady who ended up at her front door last night. The young woman was still asleep.

Clair starts making a pot of fresh coffee, instead of a single cup of coffee. As she brews the coffee, she wonders if the other girls enjoy freshly brewed coffee.

“Morning Grandma.” Jasmine waves to Clair as she comes walking into the kitchen.

Authors note: This story contains sexual situations, subject matter, and topics – mild at best – but none the less present. If the idea of sex, between consenting adults is a trigger for you, please refrain from reading this work of fiction. You’ll note above the stories warnings also. Any sexual content is NOT gratuitous and germane to this love story. Thank you.

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December 15th, 10:33 a.m.
“So that’s your New Year’s resolution, to be done with that chapter of your life?” Angela asked.

Constance listens to the music as she dances across the room. She loved old disco music and music from the seventies. Sure, she had her favorites of today’s modern-day music, but she also liked the old-style music. She dances in time to the music as it plays.

When the current selection of music stops playing, she stops and wipes her face. She takes a sip from her water bottle and replays the recording of her dancing. She watches herself as she dances to the music. A smile appears as she edits it and posts it to her YouTube channel.

Right, this story carries all kinds of warning flags. I’m not joking. If you have even the faintest trace of triggers don’t read this story. Otherwise it's rather sweet.
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The town where I grew up was not exactly a multicultural metropolis like New York. On the other hand, it was not a redneck backwater either. While most of us were white we had our share of other ethnicities as well. Mostly native Americans and blacks. Still, none of those blacks were as black as the new student in my high school class. She was really ebony black, not the various hues of brownish black of the “native” blacks. Native in the sense that they, and their forefathers had been in this country for at least fourscore and seven years. Rasa on the other hand was pure African. Pitch black, tall, muscular and moved like a large feline. No wonder she soon was tagged with the name “The Black Panther”.

Mark - recently widowed, must face his new life, can he find his joy?

Rule one: Maintain proper hygiene at all times.

Within the confines of Alex's dorm room, the air was saturated with an atmosphere of opulence and refinement. The room, a shared space with Morgan, mirrored a lavish lifestyle marked by the trappings of beauty and sophistication.

December 24, The Ranch:
Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Don we now our gay apparel, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Troll the ancient Yuletide carol, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
See the blazing Yule before us, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Strike the harp and join the chorus. Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Follow me in merry measure, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
While I tell of Yuletide treasure, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

I don’t have a lot of time before the contents of this bottle causes me to fall onto the floor. I may have to ask you to call me an Uber. Anyway, here I am, a few days before Christmas and I’m sitting in the middle of a bar with a complete stranger sitting in front of me.

I’m Rhiannon, by the way, so we’re kind of not strangers anymore, yeah?

The Owl Estate, Boston, Massachusetts:
Nick looks at the email Nancy sent to him. She informs him about a DOJ agent named Ada Franklin and how she came across an old den map. She had included everything she had gathered about Mrs. Franklin and how recruiting her might be a good idea.

We entered the throne room, and I had Spire show me what was going on outside the station. We saw Queen’s Rage firing on three ships that had come into the system. “Spire, get me in contact with Admiral Stook.” A separate screen flashed up showing Admiral Stook in the command chair.

“Admiral, what is going on out there?” I asked.

Courage
An BigCloset TopShelf Exclusive Story

I took a deep breath as I peered toward the plain, copper protestant cross that stood on the altar. The air inside St. George's Episcopal Church was cold, just like the weather outside. A rare snow storm had moved in from Tennessee bringing with it not only snow, but a bitter wind that cut one to the bare bone. The Rector of St. George, Fr. George Stonewall had yet to turn on the heat. And thus the only warmth was from the tip of the altar candles.