TF and Feminization Erotica By Heather Graham
Howdy!
Just checking in to let everyone know I’m still alive. Haven’t had much time to write lately but have been chewing on a few thoughts and ideas. Writing (for me at least) is something I have to be in the right mindset for it to work well.
So, I may finish the last Honeypot chapter this weekend (maybe) and doodle a bit since I’m enjoying that as well. Don’t worry, though. I’m definitely not going to try to give up writing in order to draw :)
Thanks for being patient!…
So, I kinda sorta messed with doodling a few times in the past. I always wished I could draw but, apparently, writing is more my thing. However! I still like to mess around with art.
I ordered some sketch paper and drawing pencils recently and decided to start actually practicing. Last night was my first attempt and those are attached here. It’s terrible but I wanted to at least share the pain :) I found a picture I liked and then attempted to copy (without tracing) the angle and outline and then added to it bit by bit while taking pictures at every step. …
A very quick, very messy wererat story with an alternate “sexy” ending. I haven’t done a rat TF before so, here you go!
“No, listen. Listen! I’m telling you, the goddamned cab driver dropped me off at the wrong place.” The young woman stalked down the desolate street, shoulders hunched deep within her suit jacket. Her black high heels clicked-clacked on the broken sidewalk. Rows of old brick houses lined the street. The buildings were built in rapid development decades ago but now most lay empty and boarded up. A few children played basketball in the street ahead of her and several adult sat in front of their homes, relaxing on the wide, dark gray concrete steps.…
At 6:00 pm, Kevin knocked on Brandy’s door. She felt her heart racing as she answered it. Her smile was strained and awkward on her face and she didn’t want to let him go when he hugged her.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Kevin said. “You’ve been crying.” The young man had changed into casual clothes before coming over.
Brandy nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wore her dancing penguin pajamas and her pink panties. She always wore her pink panties because they helped her feel brave. Or, rather, it made the world around her feel more ridiculous. No matter what happened, she could always just think to herself: Sure, I can understand you want to yell at me because the extra shot I added to your coffee at your request is somehow now too much but, you know what? …
I think I said something about writing just general posts a while back but never followed up. Mostly it is status updates and the stories themselves. So, here, have a brain dump!
I skim when I read. This always depends on different factors but, typically, I’ll skim. I don’t need five pages that describe a house the character(s) found. Or the… whatever. I don’t need to know what everything smelled like or how the grass was arranged just so or the trees or the sky or the etc… etc… unless it’s important for something. By all means, introduce the scene and the characters but don’t go overboard.…
Brandy sat at the end of an over-stuffed brown couch with a glass of red wine in one hand. Her other hand held a white envelope. Kevin sat at the opposite end from her, one leg crossed on the couch. Light music played from the stereo system while Brandy stared suspiciously at the young man.
“Our anniversary was three months ago,” Brandy informed him.
“I know, I know. Just open the thing already!” Kevin’s words were gentle despite his protest.
Brandy continued to stare. “This better not be a proposal.”
“Oh god no,” Kevin assured her. “No no no. Trust me. …
Karyn hummed to herself as she closed her apartment door. She wore a pair of old, white running shoes along with her bright pink scrubs. A light black jacket and small backpack completed her outfit. She walked down the hallway to the stairs, skipping steps gleefully until she reached the bottom. The sun lay low on the horizon, half-hidden behind the taller buildings downtown. Karyn raised her face to the sun with her eyes closed, smiling for no other reason than happiness at being outside.
The walk to the local bus stop was short and Karyn nearly danced the entire way. …
Just, FYI, I *hate* re-reading through previous chapters to catch up on the state of characters and where I left off. Why? Because, dear lord, I miss a ton of grammar and spelling mistakes. It’s embarrassing as hell.
At the moment I’m speaking about The Honeypot chapter 3. God. I need to go through and mark it up. Probably save that for when and if I sell it online.
Ugh.…
Hello, hello!
Soooo… I get a surprisingly decent amount of viewers. I don’t ask for much from ya’ll. I don’t put ads on the site. I don’t charge for content. I don’t suppose I’ll ever do either of those. I write because I love to write. However, I appreciate support from my readers and I have a way for y’all to help.
I’ve cleaned up Legal Issues and combined it into one story with some bits of details added in and changed. I’ve got it submitted to Smashwords but also now at Amazon and B&N! I’m only charging $1.50 and it would mean a lot if y’all ordered a copy. …
I am enormously thankful for fetishists.
The things I’ve ordered from various websites are mostly harmless but, all together would paint quite a bad picture of me. Chains. Metal cuffs – not handcuffs, mind you, actual proper thick metal cuffs. A little like you’d see in old movies (old England or France or wherever) when they throw a prisoner in the deepest dungeon with his hands chained to the wall until they lead him out to be beheaded.
Which, to be honest, is pretty close to what I’m doing.
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The murders started about eight months ago. Grisly things. Bad enough that you wouldn’t really call them ‘bodies’ anymore. …