Posted by celiapleete in in the closet, school days | Comments

I Knew This Was The Most Becoming Suit…

…Because Mrs. Leslie, who many had declared rather “strange,” came closer…closer to me, pressing her heaving bosom against my back, breathing heavily.
“You’re pretty as a picture, my dear.”
That day, I lost my innocence; my picture of maidenhood tarnished by a burning desire to make love in this tweed getup. I had arrived. I never knew passion as wicked as that thrown upon me by a zaftig woman in a whimsical hat.

Posted by celiapleete in genepool, in the closet | Comments

Triple Down.

The Drummond men were notoriously the strong, silent types.

When Grandpa Drummond broke his foot falling off his horse, Muffin, he got up, walked twelve miles, and wrapped up the swollen member in torn rags from the shed. He was up and at ‘em in two days.

When Pa Drummond had a massive head wound following a wayward shotgun shell, he summoned up the energy to walk twenty miles to Doc Finnegan’s and slur out what had happened. He was back to work within the week.

But Melvin Drummond had trumped them all, by not mentioning a word about his self-induced sex change operation with some rubbing alcohol and a pair of hedgeclippers.

Posted by celiapleete in in the closet, rippingyarns | Comments

In A Pinch.

During the photo shoot, Bertram suddenly let out a ringing peal of girlish laughter – as that rascal Mark naughtily found his “sweet spot.”

Posted by celiapleete in book, espionage, in the closet | Comments

Alexandrie, Alexandra.

Posted by celiapleete in in the closet, poppets, rippingyarns | Comments

Jailbait and Switch.

As soon as he hit puberty, Mike made it abundantly clear that he wanted to henceforth be known as “Michelle.”

Posted by celiapleete in fashion, in the closet | Comments

Globe Trotter.

“Yes, right about here. If the old saying is correct, then my one true love lives in Siam. Good gracious. That sounds about right. They’re pretty lenient there, age-wise.”