The Demoness of Chengdu

A steel blur ran through the Gansu barrens. Across the aisle, a young man sat down, then absorbed himself in a book. Tall, sandy-haired, radiating a Scandinavian ease. Dane, judging by the worn flag patch. He was handsome, oh... really handsome. No, don't think that. Don't think about it. A treacherous, unwelcome warmth bloomed in Dylan’s belly, a demanding feeling with a life of its own. It was Jin Fen.  The body rebelled. Muscles not designed for the coming new frame spasmed uncontrollably. A wave of giddiness,  her giddiness poured out. Full sentences broke into Chinglish shards. No more look at sand, boring to death. Finally nice man here! He felt dizzy, empty-headed, and horny, absurdly so. Reduced down to a caricature of desire. It had sounded so romantic. He was between jobs, a history graduate. Seemed good for the  resume back in Canada . Ancient trade routes, Buddhist grottoes, Border deserts. Instead, he’d lost everything at that back-alley bazaar in Dunhuang, l...

 Daniel rolled his suitcase onto the bed and back kicked the door closed. The room was pleasantly cool. What a thoroughly enjoyable all expenses paid trip to Japan. He had snapped a couple of shots of fringe weirdos like a man dressed as a power ranger playing a guitar, ate some sashimi and checked out Osaka castle. Yet, despite the fun of the day, he had a headache that didn’t bode well for tomorrow. The shit was on its way. It was like the pressure or a hand pushing at the back of his head. Then it got worse. He felt confused, like time was moving slowly. Reality was a whirlpool that he couldn’t re-orientate himself in. After a few hours he found himself in front of the mirror pouting his lips and tossing hair back. Then, crushing agony on his crotch. He wanted to yelp or scream, he couldn’t move his lips.  He laughed maniacally. “Wait.. why can’t I stop laughing.” “Daniel-san “ His facial bones clicked and almost seem to pull into a hundred pieces as every little muscle mov...

  Jack opened the door to the toilet just in time. The distress in his eyes would be visible to anyone who saw him on the way there. He pulled up his t-shirt to see his stomach rippling. Ulcerous pains struck all over his guts. “Just.. a few more seconds.. I was studying you b-“ Oh I’m sorry nerd, were you gonna call me a bitch?” Andrea spoke up, with her clear Italian American Brooklyn accent coming out of his mouth. He felt a purposefully crushing pain in his testicles followed by a smoky sexy laugh. He groaned. “I don’t give a fuck about your study and social calendar.” “I didn’t even recover from the last time.” He screamed while his voice was getting higher. The poorly healed wounds he had were burning from the extra adrenaline and his skin tearing and ripping. His ashy blonde hair   grew softer, shampooing all the dirt out of it. His eyesight began to improve as he dropped his thick rimmed glasses and shook out his lengthening raven black hair. His blue eyes lo...

 “Liếm lồn của tôi” (Want to lick my cunt?) You covered your mouth and quickly ducked into the frozen food aisle. You made eye contact with a tall bearded guy with a tiger tattoo. You were trying to avoid him earlier, he was just you-her type. “Bạn sẽ yêu bộ ngực của tôi” (You would love my tits.) Burst from your lips even as you tried to seal them. “Huh?” He raised his chin. “Nothing. I said I hope you enjoy your chicken. I’ve had it before.” “Oh uh… sure… Whatever.” He fumbled around for something else in the aisle and paced off. Your blue eyes trained on his ass as he wandered off. Officially you had developed Tourette’s syndrome at the age of twenty four. Officially it was caused by culture shock from one month traveling in Vietnam. Unofficially? Would anyone believe your Vietnamese bitch alter ago just couldn’t shut the fuck up? Her filthy mouth was unstoppable. She even hijacked your fingers once in a while. You made 'friends' with her after a typical night of crassness a...

  SWI - Short story with images. Latino/Latina TG/RC Both sides of a Werewoman/Man story. The characters are mostly speaking Spanish in this story, but it's all in English to make it more fluid. The gratuitous Spanish is to remind the reader of this fact.   Miguel - Part 1 --------------- He stood smoking at the balcony, bronze sculpted body half on display. He ran his hand through his buzz cut. All night he’d heard a meek little voice in his head telling him that he was really a girl. That he was confundido. Screaming to let her back out. But that little bitch was never coming back. Not after tonight. He bricked her up nice and tight forever hopefully. Why would he give up a body like this? A year turning back into that pequeña puta rubia was hell. Time to stop taking turns... and how was he going to do that? Pues, jej. His old life made him sick. He was a Californian brat traveling in Mexico to find herself after college… well he definitely did that. Mexico made him into the...