BoTox

My publisher has started releasing their ABDL books in audio format. They are not read by a human but they are a very good computer reading. I had them send me one to listen to and it sounds pretty good. I ask myself why Amazon doesn't offer this but I know why. It would cannibalize their Audible platform. Have any of you done any audio books?

Several of my Ingrid Chronicles books are now available as audio books. Samples are available if you would like to give them a listen. My publisher is running a special: Buy the ebook and get the audio book for free. This offer is good until the end of May, 2022. Available here: https://abdiscovery.com.au/the-ingrid-chronicles/

Chapter 7 Lana: I think I was still sniffing when those two returned. Trisha kept telling me nothing bad would happen to me but something bad had already happened. I was no longer free. I couldn't believe her while strapped to a bed and gagged. As she said that, Zoey started removing my clothes but not so they could ever be worn again. She was slitting them with scissors! Trisha remarked, “She is a very thin girl once the baggy t-shirt dress came off. Why, she barely needed a bra.” Then cut my panties off and I cried again. Were they going to violate me? It is every girl's worst nightmare. Your mother and father warn you about going with strangers but I've lost my mother and father to that wretched war. Trisha commented again, “Look, Zoey, she is a true blond.” Zoey unfolded the pink piece of plastic beside me, where I could fully see what she was doing. I think it was for my benefit that she wanted me to see it, slowly and deliberately. She didn't say a word as she handled the oversized diaper. I was naked, my clothes in rags around me so when prompted, I lifted my bottom and Zoey slipped the diaper under me. Trisha went out of the room for a minute at most. Zoey turned me on my side and stroked my hair before rubbing some kind of thick cream on my bum. “This will help clean you out of all the nasty food you've been eating,” said Trisha when she returned. What nasty food? She fed us pizza, for goodness’ sake. Surely, if I had the gag removed, I could reason with them. Make them understand I wouldn't tell anyone if they would take us back to the refugee camp. We didn't want any trouble. Trisha handed something to Zoey. She showed it to me but it meant nothing until she spread my bottom and shoved it up my rear. I was too shocked to fight her and she had pushed it deep into my bottom before I could protest. Zoey rolled me back onto my back and taped the diaper on me. What kind of sick game was this woman playing? Trisha gave me a speech about how this diaper would hold anything and everything. I could accept it or fight it but it would happen either way. She suggested I relax and get some rest before things started happening. The maid and Trisha left the room and turned out the light. I was all alone, diapered and tied up like a prisoner of war. She said she would check on me in an hour. Did that mean I had an hour before whatever she did to me started happening? The coolness of the thing they stuck inside of me wasn't noticeable now. I had nothing to do but wait and pray. Thankfully, it was not too cool in the room. I tried to calm my breathing. I closed my eyes and took a deeper breath. That helped but I was still tied to a bed with a diaper on me with no way to even yell for help. I could only hope this was a bad dream and I was still in the refugee camp.

Yeah, I don't need a story idea. I have the story. I merely needed to get a handle on dialog and such.

Chapter 6 Brent/Brandi: I had tired myself out to no avail. It didn't look like I was going to get free on my own. Trisha and her maid, Zoey, came back into the room. Trisha gave Zoey a look and a nod. Against my protestations, they stripped my clothes off with medical shears. I looked on in horror as Zoey shredded my shirt and then my pants. I tried to scream against the gag in my mouth. All it did was make me more tired and breathless. I had tried to spit it out earlier but it kept my jaw too far apart to get any leverage against it with my tongue. The strap was too stiff to wiggle down as well. She had planned well. I could not offer them much resistance, no matter what they did. I was helpless and vulnerable, except this was worse than being in a war zone. At least there, I knew the enemy wanted to hurt me. This woman was friendly before she suddenly turned on us. Trisha undid my shoes and socks. When I was in nothing but my boxers, Zoey cut those off as well. They pulled the scraps of fabric from underneath me and I was naked. I probably would have been embarrassed had I not been angry and afraid. I was probably in shock at the events. “Zoey, get her diaper ready. I'll fetch her suppository,” said Trisha. What the hell did she say about a diaper and suppository? This was getting too weird for me to process. What have I gotten into? What have I gotten poor Lana into? I couldn't even try to talk to them or ask questions because of the gag. I watched as Zoey moved to the drawer and pulled out a thick pink square and began opening it. It unfolded three times and then the sides appeared. It was quite large. I did not know what was about to happen to me but I didn't want to find out. I started flaying about, trying to get loose. If they did not gag me, I would have pleaded with Zoey to let me go. She was obviously as much a slave here as I fear she would try to make us. I was still thrashing, trying to break free, when Trisha returned and stated, “I see we need to tame this wild stallion.” Zoey must have known exactly what that meant. She immediately opened a drawer to pull out something I had never seen before. When she opened it and started toward my crotch, I realized it was going on my member. Trisha put her knee on my abdomen to hold me down. She looked at me and shook her head. I stopped resisting, as I knew she outpowered me in my restrained state. Zoey put the smooth stainless steel back strap around my testicles and member. She snugged it up but not tight enough to cause pain. It was simply cold against my skin. The second part was a hinged sheath attached at the bottom and rotated toward the top. To her credit, she delicately fitted my limp penis into it. The hinge bar spread my testicles apart as it went on with my penis pointed straight down and back between my testicles. It clicked closed and I winced. I felt the weight pulling at me. It was cold and it was uncomfortable. Trisha looked at Zoey's handiwork and tugged at it, “That's not coming off without a torch!” Trisha then held up what looked like a dinner candle with no wick. She held it in front of me to see before handing it to Zoey. Trisha slid the pink diaper toward my rear. She lifted that cage around my cock and I had to comply. Once the diaper was under me, Zoey rolled me onto my side and told me, “Relax. This won't hurt a bit.” She parted my exposed rear cheeks. She started the strange thing in my rectum. I tensed up uncontrollably. I wasn't used to having anything go in that way. Trisha smacked my butt and said, “Relax. It will go in, one way or the other. Any other way will only make it hurt worse.” Trying to calm down, I could not imagine how much pain they could cause me in this vulnerable state. I felt the maid push it against me. It was cold and slippery as the tip started inside of me. I felt like she was shoving her entire hand up there. It reached a point where it slipped fully inside and she pulled her finger back out. I clenched my bottom again. When she finished, Zoey commented they should shave me. Trisha agreed. Zoey applied a thick layer of paste to my rear. Trisha said I would need it for what was to come. Then Zoey folded the front of the diaper over that cage and taped it securely around me. They put me in a damned diaper! “Mommy, I don't think we need to worry about locking panties while she's restrained,” said Zoey. Trisha must have agreed because she raised the side of the bed up to complete the crib's appearance. She explained that if I needed to relieve myself, the diaper would hold anything my body could produce. Zoey followed her out of the room and they turned the light off. They left me to lie there in the dark, waiting for whatever they pushed up my ass to do. I hoped Lana fared better than I had. The thing inside me didn't feel cold anymore. That wasn't much comfort, laying there, strapped to a bed in nothing but a diaper. A huge, thick pink diaper. I had to assume they expected me to need it before they returned. I didn't even know how long that would be. Worse than that, my bladder was feeling full. I could hold it a long time but I would need to get free soon if I was going to avoid using this terrible pink thing they had fastened around me. If I could free myself and get to the bathroom, I could at least expel the thing inside of me.

In stats, a lot of WebKit-based browsers will report themselves as Google Chrome for compatibility reasons. MS Edge reports as Chrome, as do several of the forks from it.

Chapter 5 “They are nearly broken now. The girl more than the boy. Likely caused by the trauma from the war zone,” said Trisha, “What should be the next step for your twin sisters, Baby?” Zoey answered after a brief pause, “They've been eating a lot of awful food, not suitable for babies. You should cleanse them, Mommy. You made me take all those fiber pills after I had one slice of pizza. They surely need it more.” Trisha kissed Zoey on the cheek, “Of course! Perfect. What would be the most babyish way to clean them out?” Zoey thought for a moment, “A baby’s tummy is very sensitive and easy to upset. A baby gets a suppository most of the time, don’t they?” Trisha smiled, “Yes, but they need to be adult baby-sized. What does Mommy use on you, Baby?” Zoey blushed, “We use the silicone mold made from your middle finger. You fill it with coconut wax to make a hollow shell. Then you mix in coconut oil and a few glycerin suppositories. It took about an hour to work and I couldn't control it. I made a big mess in my diapey.” Trisha said, “I remember it well. That was when you first came to be my baby girl. That will be the perfect way to get the NB powder into their systems, too. It will take effect much faster rectally.” Trisha sent Zoey to fetch the suppository mold while she started melting some coconut wax. When Zoey returned, Trisha poured coconut wax and rolled it around in the silicone mold to coat it. She repeated this several times to get a good, thick shell. Zoey watched with interest as the super-sized suppository took shape. Trisha sent her to get the jars of suppositories. Trisha was going to fill the large cavity with several of the smaller suppositories and a few NB powder capsules. She dropped in the first NB powder capsule and poured the coconut oil on top. It solidified as it touched the wax. She rolled the wax shell around to get a good coating on the inside of the wax. When she had enough, she dropped two glycerin suppositories, one bisacodyl suppository and another NB powder capsule in the center. She covered it with more coconut oil to the top. Once she was happy with that, she covered the open end with more wax. After cooling in ice water, she popped the super suppository out of the mold and set it in the refrigerator to harden. Zoey was already warming the coconut oil for the second one. It went a little quicker with all the supplies in one place. When completed, she placed it in the fridge to harden as well. Trisha asked, “Honey, shouldn't we make a third one? You haven't been having good bowel movements lately and I'd like to give you a booster of NB powder.” Zoey hung her head, “I don't really want one, but if Mommy thinks so, it would probably do me good.” Trisha smiled and they worked on the third suppository. She filled it with three glycerin, two bisacodyl suppositories and a capsule of NB powder for her special mama's helper. Zoey blushed at the extra attention she was going to get from her mommy. She placed it in the freezer to be harder and take longer to melt because Mommy cared.

Chapter 4 Lana: My name is Lana and I don't know what is going on. A woman brought me and my friend, Brent, to live with her. We were both glad to get out of the camp but things had gone horribly wrong. I don't know if I offended her or what went wrong. I heard the door lock being worked Trisha unlocked to door. When she entered, I was curled up in the corner, crying. Sometimes I wished I'd died when the war started. If they had killed me like my parents, I would not be in this situation. I thought America was a safe country! Trisha put her arms around me and tried to soothe me, “It's OK. I'm going to take good care of you.” She helped me up and sat me on the bed. She laid me back and fastened my hands and feet gently to the bedposts. I was still crying when Trisha kissed me on the forehead and placed a huge pink pacifier in my mouth and fastened it behind my head. She left me restrained to the bed. When she opened the door to leave, I could see Zoey waiting in the hall with a smile. The maid is part of this whole thing so she couldn't be trusted to help. I would have to be careful about what I said around her and I'd have to warn Brent, too. I didn't know what was going to happen to me but it was clear we did not get lucky and find a wonderful home to live in until we had a permanent place to stay. This was all a ruse to lure us here. On the way down the lane, I thought how pretty and private this place was. Now it was clear that's the way Trisha wanted it. I thought about it. Crying would not help. I had my cry and got it out of my system. I needed to think clearly and I had no time for a pity party. Were we going to be sold as sex slaves? Were they going to kill us? Had they done this before? They seemed to have everything thought out. I lay in the bed, thinking about what I could do, how I could get out of this? How long would I be here, like this, before she came back? With no clock, I had no way to measure time. My mind wandered in the darkened room.

This is a short chapter from Brent's point of view. Chapter 3 Brent: My name is Brent and I am a refugee from the war in Europe. I got lucky and a gracious lady, named Trisha, offered to let me and a friend live in her home in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. I was glad to get out of the refugee camps. The first one in Europe I was only at for a day before they flew us to America. I returned from a shopping trip where Trisha bought me and Lana new clothes. We arrived back at her home and Trisha was helping me take my new things to my room. Talking to Trisha as we walked down the hall and into the room, she let me stay in. I didn't see the changes to the bed and Trisha smiled when she locked the door behind her. She had an easy 100 pounds on me and she pinned me to the bed with more ease than I would like to admit. I didn't know what was going on. Was she some sort of sexual predator? One of those cougars? Despite being pinned to the bed, I didn't yell. I thought it must be rough play. Trisha held both of my wrists easily in her one hand while she used her knees to keep my body pinned beneath her. “What are you doing?” I asked. She replied, “I'm sorry, Hun, none of those clothes we bought will fit. They are all going back.” I didn't think it was funny, despite her laughter. She quickly strapped my hands to the top corners of the bed, locked in place in some sort of fur-lined cuffs that weren't there before. At least I didn't think they were there before. She stretched out my hands and she turned. Then she secured my legs in cuffs at the foot of the bed. I wasn't panicked until I saw the rails on the side of the bed. I know those weren't there when I checked out the room earlier. “Something's not right,” I said. “No, I assure you everything is going to plan, Brandi. That's your new name, baby girl Brandi,” she said. Why did she call me Brandi? I started cursing in my native language. My cursing in English is not so good. I knew one word that seemed to fit and I used it. I screamed, “LET ME GO, YOU BITCH!” “Naughty baby! Now I have to put a paci in your mouth and teach you better!” said Trisha and she shoved an enormous pink, full-mouth gag between my teeth. She fiddled with it behind my head and I could feel straps across my cheeks. I tugged against my restraints but they were firm. They looked like some sort of heavy woven straps. She left me there and closed the door. I heard her locking the door behind her. I looked around and the bed was now some sort of hospital bed or something. The design was so a person wouldn't easily get out of bed. That's the best I could do. I tried to rock the bed as hard as I could. It didn't move and I was sure it must be secured to the floor. I couldn't sit up and I couldn't rollover. My feet wouldn't touch and I couldn't get my hands close to each other. She had me but what was going to happen to me? What was going to happen to Lana?

OK, I think I'm going to do 3rd limit for most of the story with 1st person sections to get inside of their heads. The involuntary regression and gender treatment would be impossible in 3rd person. I don't know that it will be full paragraphs per 1st person but it will be more than one paragraph and I'm noting at the change the person we are engaged with. Hopefully, it will work. I've not really tried anything like this before so it is all a science project. Thanks, that was clearer than what I was asking. LOL

I find this an interesting tale with a new twist on a ghost story. Please continue with my sincerest thanks.

Chapter 2 Trisha opened the door and ushered her two new guests inside. The garage door led to the laundry room and on into the big, modern kitchen. There, they saw Zoey taking a large pizza out of the oven. It looked and smelled amazing to the two refugees. They had been eating poorly prepared, mass-produced camp rations for the last month. The maid was a small, thin woman, barely as tall as Brent with a dark complexion. She looked to be Asian. Her black hair had flecks of gray pulled up in a bun. Her gray uniform fit snugly to her body. The collar covered the base of her neck and the skirt hung to her knees. The sleeves were slightly above the elbows. Her chest was small but her legs and behind were strong. “Hello! You must be our new house guests. I'm Zoey, Miss Trisha's maid," said Zoey with a smile. They greeted Zoey politely but they were eyeing the pizza. Trisha waved her hand for them to have a seat and Zoey set the pizza on the table. Trisha went to the fridge to put sodas on the table. Zoey cut the pizza and put an enormous slice in front of each of them. They dug in. While they ate the pizza and drank the soda, Trisha went to check on the rooms for them. Zoey followed her into the first room. They set it up for Lana. They crossed the hall to check on the room for Brent. Both appeared to be in order. Trisha patted Zoey on the shoulder, “Good work. I'm pleased. You deserve a reward. What would you like?” Zoey looked up at her boss and said, “A release, Mommy. It has been a few weeks since my last one.” Trisha held Zoey's chin and looked into her eyes, “Baby, we've talked about this. What did we agree upon?” Zoey's shoulders dropped, “We agreed on no releases that weren't on the calendar.” Trisha asked, “And when is the next scheduled release?” “A week from Saturday, Mommy,” said a disappointed Zoey. Trisha smiled, “That's right. Now, we have guests. Is there anything I can do now?” Zoey leaned over, her hands against the wall, “Might you check my diaper and change me if necessary?” Trisha smiled and lifted the back of her maid's dress to reveal a thickly padded bottom. The maid’s bottom was encased in a pair of secured panties, locked at the rear waist to prevent tampering. Trisha squeezed the girl's rear and shook her head. “Baby, do you think you are wet enough to need a change?” Trisha questioned. “No, Mommy, it is not wet enough. Thanks for checking,” said Zoey. Trisha offered, “How about you can have a slice of pizza instead and a soda instead?” Back in the kitchen, Brent had eaten his slice and was working on the crust. Lana was slower but enjoying hers no less. Trisha and Zoey returned to the kitchen. Zoey cut another piece for Brent, who eagerly started on it. Then she cut a slice for herself. She offered one to Trisha and Lana as well. Trisha declined but poured Brent another soda. To Brent, this was the best meal he had eaten since leaving home. Zoey smiled as she ate her pizza. She hadn't had pizza in a while. Trisha rarely allowed her to eat pizza and she only offered it because of her guests this time. Zoey was glad for the opportunity to have some, though she knew she would have to work it off later. The pizza was gone in no time. Brent ate three slices and Lana two. Zoey cleaned up the kitchen while Trisha showed her guests to their rooms. Trisha looked back at Zoey and reminded her it was time to take her medicine. Zoey acknowledged her and opened the cabinet with bottles of medicine. Zoey poured six pills from the bottle marked with her name. The bottle label read bulk-forming laxative. The price of indulging in a slice of pizza. It was worth it even if she made a big mess tomorrow morning. She would hardly notice. Trisha opened the first bedroom door and showed Brent his room while she apologized for the heavy princess décor, “My young nieces were the last to visit me and we decorated it for them. We can change it.” Brent shrugged his shoulders. It had a laptop for his use and a bathroom. Lana's room set up appeared similar with mermaids and lots of pinks. Trisha promised to take them shopping for clothes later today if they wanted. They both were thankful. Neither had more than a few clothes currently. “Zoey, we are going shopping. Do you need anything while we are out,” asked Trisha? The maid looked at her phone, “Yes, Ma'am. We need more milk. I will text you a list.” While they were out shopping, Zoey had work to do. It was necessary to convert the rooms. It would reveal the deception when they returned. The refugees would serve an important purpose in the house. Zoey didn't want to be alone and Trisha wanted to make her baby happy. These kids had no family, and nobody knew where they were. They were perfect for what Trisha planned. Zoey entered the first bedroom and attached the rail sides to the bed, converting it into an adult-sized crib. The bedding already had a waterproof sheet under it. She opened the drawers and filled them with girly tops and bottoms, bottoms big enough to cover a well-padded boy or girl in diapers. Each pair of bottoms had a heavy belt and lock like Zoey wore over her diaper. Then came the diapers. Zoey carried two cases of medium disposable diapers into the room and filled the top drawer with pretty pink overnight diapers. The rest went into the closet. She fixed a set of four padded restraints on the corners of the bed in case the new baby struggled. Nobody accepted this regression treatment without a little help. It took Zoey herself nearly a month before she broke. How long ago was that? Three years, or was it four? The time since had been the most enjoyable time of her life. Next, she went to the bathroom. The lid to the toilet was locked down. It would get no use from the room's new occupant. The changing table fit over the toilet and with a drain line into the hole in the toilet lid. This feature made for easy cleanup of a messy baby. She checked the changing supplies and set on the shelf nearest the changing table. Plenty of diapers, rash cream, baby wipes and other items were fully stocked. It was off to the other bedroom to do likewise. In the second bedroom, Zoey repeated the process. Both of the guests were going to be regressed and raised as twin baby girls. Pink was the color everywhere one looked. More diapers and more baby girl clothes. The only difference was in Brent's room, there was a drawer for binding cages for his manhood. He wouldn't be using that for anything soon. Zoey got a text that Trisha was returning and asked if everything was ready. Zoey confirmed she would take Lana to her room and lock her in. Trisha would take Brent and start his transformative regression first. Zoey hated being a part of the deception but it was necessary for Trisha's plan to work. She finished preparing everything in Brent's room. When she heard the garage door open, she was in the kitchen. She greeted the kids and Trisha with a smile and a glass of lemonade. She nodded to Trisha that all was ready for her guests. The young guests sipped on the lemonade and thanked Zoey. “Help Lana with her things, please, Zoey,” said Trisha, “I'll help Brent with getting his things to his room.”

Agreed. As I'm reading it back, part of it is confusing. Too many "she" pronouns or I wind up naming everyone every time i reference them. I've got to unwind it and reorganize pieces before I post more in my story thread. I'm thinking a couple of chapters a week. Maybe 18 chapters unless I trim it down.

OK, that's sort of where I was going. I'm writing this one in third person. I may go back and switch it to 1st person. Do people write in multiple 1st person? Getting inside the head of all the main protagonists?

OK, the only acronym I got out of that was AB. You are going to have to explain it to me like a vanilla in long hand. To clarify, the man is an unwilling regressee. His mental state until broken is male but the regressor only refers to the regressee as a girl and dresses as a girl.

So, I am working on a story about a man that is forcibly regressed and being turned into a baby girl. I have a few questions to figure out. I'm not proficient on AB terminology or vernacular. My goal is to do this topic justice. First, is there a distinction between a sissy baby and a man treated as a de facto baby girl? Second, when does the pronoun transition from he to she? Is it when the regressing authority figure gives them a girl name? Third, if it is forced, would the man think of himself as still male while everyone treated and called him the female name? My thought is a sissy baby knows they are male but is treated as a female, willingly or unwillingly. They may also be reminded they are a sissy girl. Where as the man-to-baby-girl is never again acknowledged to be an adult male in any way. Call it a deluded parental figure. The goal is to break the man to the point he begins to think and be a baby girl instead of playing a part.

The first chapter is all background and sets up the story. No diapers or anything yet. I like plots to work and I need a lot of this to get things in place for later. Chapter 1 The war started in Eastern Europe but quickly spread across most of Europe and parts of North Africa. Many people lost their lives and many more displaced. They sent some across borders and some to faraway places. Some went to America, Canada, Australia and other places not affected by the war. Brent was one of those displaced as the war expanded. The enemy had murdered his parents in cold blood as they tried cross the English Channel. He escaped with his life and the clothes on his back. Once on English soil, the resettlement groups sent people all over the globe. They airlifted Brent and many others from his camp to the US. He still wasn't sure he was safe but he was out of immediate danger. Conditions in the camp were tolerable but little privacy, limited internet and everyone was a complete stranger. Lucky for him, he wound up at a refuge center outside of Atlanta, GA. While Europe was in flames, America seemed like a safer place. He didn't know how long he'd be staying at the refugee camp. Hopefully, there would be opportunities to start a new life, new beginnings in this land, the land of the free. Many of the locals from Atlanta and the surrounding suburbs were taking on refugees. This gave them a chance to have a bit of normalcy in their upended lives. A little taste of southern hospitality went a long way with people that had lost everything. That was when Trisha got involved and showed up at the center. She offered rooms to two people to stay with her until they could get permanent resettlement or could return home. It was the least she could do. She was blessed with so much and they had so little. Brent was in a line for the bathroom when a tall, silver-haired woman approached him. She was a sturdy woman, fit, not flabby, with an ample chest and round bottom. Brent would barely reach her shoulder if he tiptoed. His family had never been very tall and he was no exception. She greeted people, asked questions but none responded with what she wanted to hear. She approached Brent with a smile and a hand extended. She spoke to him in her southern drawl, “Hi, I'm Trisha, what is your name, Darlin?” “Brent,” he said. “How old are you, Brent? Do you have any family here?” she asked. He said coldly, long since accepting the loss, “No one else from my family survived. I'm 22. I had one more year at university.” Trisha made a sad face, “I'm so sorry for your loss, Sweety. Would you like to come live with me in my home until you can be resettled? I have a big, comfy house and it is only me and my servant living there.” Brent asked, “You have Internet access?” She nodded, “Of course we do. Fiber optic gigabit speeds, full mesh Wi-Fi on the entire property.” “OK, I'll go with you,” he said, “I've been trying to find out about friends from back home. It is hard here.” She smiled, “Go gather all your things. I have enough room for one more person. Do you have any friends here that might like to join us?” Brent answered, “I met a girl from another city. She has a lot in common with me. Her parents are dead and she started university the year before the war started. She is alone here, like me.” Trisha motioned, “Well, what are you waiting for? Go find her and see if she wants a home with the Internet and a hot bath.” While Trisha stood there, Brent started looking for his friend, “Stay right there while I find her. Please, don't leave without me.” Trisha waited while texting Zoey, her maid, on her phone, “I'm bringing two refugees home with me. They are an unrelated boy and girl in their early twenties. We should be back in half an hour. Is everything ready on your end?” Zoey immediately responded, “Yes, Ma'am. I set two bedrooms up as you ordered. A lunch of pizza and sodas will be ready as well.” Trisha could see Brent returning with a small blond girl not even as tall as Brent. He held her hand and pulled her through the rows of cots as they dodged suitcases and scattered belongings. The blond girl wore a teal green t-shirt two sizes too big for her with a wide black belt to make it into a dress. Trisha smiled as they approached her. Brent said, “Trisha, this is Lana. She is my friend I was telling you about.” Trisha addressed the girl, “Hello, Lana. Did Brent tell you I have rooms for two people at my home? You can have the Internet and a private room and space to move around.” Lana was meek, “Yes, he did. That is very generous of you.” Trisha questioned Lana more, “How old are you, Honey?” Lana answered, “I will be 19 years old in two weeks.” “Brent tells me you were also at university before the fighting closed everything,” said Trisha, “We have a fantastic university here. That's where I work. Perhaps you can enroll and continue your studies?” Brent and Lana both shook their heads in agreement. Trisha pulled one of them under each arm and started walking them toward the door. She pointed them to her black SUV and remotely opened the doors. Brent offered Lana the front seat. “This is a beautiful country,” said Lana, “It reminds me of home.” Brent agreed, “Yes, rolling green hills, lakes and forests.” Trisha said, “When the weather is nicer, you can explore all of it. We can hike up Stone Mountain and see the view.” “Trisha, what do you do at the university?” asked Brent. She smiled, “Oh, I run a robotics research lab and I teach a few upper level classes. Are you interested in robotics or automation?” Lana perked up, “I was studying engineering and programming. Robotics seems like a good fit.” Brent laughed, “I'm going to be living with nerds!” Trisha laughed, “What were you studying then?” “Business! I'm going to be rich someday,” he said. Trisha smiled, “If that is your dream, there is no better place to make it happen than the good old US of A.” They turned off the main road and ventured down a picturesque tree-lined lane to a secluded home that was Trisha's. The guests could see that it was a large house with plenty of land around it. Trisha pulled into the garage and held out her arms. “This is it. Come inside and I'll have Zoey show you to your rooms,” said Trisha.

This story is being created as a part of the Second Kasarberang Non-Contest contest.

I'm working on a story to fit into the NSFW category. Tentatively called An Unrelated Incident. I'm going to create a placeholder story thread that I can add to.

Oh, I've already had those ideas in my head. Delicious, isn't it?

Imagine having a magnet on your key ring in your pocket with the Relief artificial sphincter. What fun that might be! Nothing showing externally and random voids as your keys jingle in your pocket. The ideal situation would be a Bluetooth module that could be paired with your phone or someone else's. It could be triggered on a proximity to one phone or used like any other Internet of Things device controlled through an app. Neither indicated how it would function during a sexual encounter. The metal one looks pretty ominous if you are going to get rough. I can see this really handy for bed wetters. Set it for a few random events throughout the night. Since we know it has a safeguard pressure relief valve, all that is needed is a lighter relief spring. As I grow older, I'd be tempted to "develop" symptoms and have one of these implanted when they are available for public use.

Like others, I write as much as I can while my mind is engaged. I see it in my head as a movie where I'm writing the dialog as I hear it in my mind. I write in Google Docs to get the basic errors found and corrected. It is far from readable by anyone but me in this form. I often leave out big chunks that get filled in on an additional pass. Once I get a story or at least a good section committed to the page, I tend to leave it alone for at least a day or more. If I think of more dialog or a new scene, I will add that to the end. That's not where it goes but I rearrange sections to meet the needs and pacing of the story. Once the story is fully written in what I call a first draft, I will re-read it and improve what I see, fluff up dialog, add descriptive language where I feel it could use it. Next, I run a search for words I know I over use, "just" and "like" to name a few. At this point, I will drop it into ProWritingAid to see what it kicks out. It isn't everything it needs to be after this but it is pretty close to where I think it is getting ready. Unless I'm a hurry with a deadline, I will let it sit a bit and read it again. I usually do a few tweaks here but if it went well, I consider it ready to publish. Then the readers get to decide how well I did.

Your chances end tonight.

This books is now free if you want a copy of it. Enjoy!

I updated it in 2019 include some more modern touches. Nothing huge but I think it is more contemporary now.