<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEERnY6fCp7ImA9WhRRF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144</id><updated>2011-11-30T23:30:07.814-08:00</updated><category term="Belly Inflation" /><category term="Muscle" /><category term="Tiny People" /><category term="Long Story" /><category term="Eating" /><category term="Slow Growth" /><category term="Family" /><category term="Shrunken Women" /><category term="Physics" /><category term="Comparison" /><category term="Breast" /><category term="Alien" /><category term="Shrunken Men" /><category term="Transfiguration" /><category term="Must Read" /><category term="Giantess" /><category term="Violent" /><category term="Computer" /><category term="Inflation" /><category term="Growth" /><category term="Humiliation" /><category term="Age Regression" /><category term="Mini-GTS" /><category term="Mini GTS" /><category term="Slow" /><category term="Teasing" /><category term="GTS" /><category term="BBW" /><category term="Role Reversal" /><category term="Sex" /><category term="Age Progression" /><category term="Shrinking" /><category term="Chemistry" /><category term="Trapped" /><category term="Transgender" /><category term="Fanfic" /><category term="Puberty" /><category term="Non Consentual" /><category term="Magic" /><category term="Clothes Ripping" /><title>gts-Stories</title><subtitle type="html">As many story archives disappear over the years, I vow to keep this one alive. Forever. It will always be here. Safely tucked in the many clouds of Google. And it will be updated as often as I can.

One or more of the gts-Series blog is updated daily, so check back often! ;)</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>345</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/Qsdx" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/qsdx" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="license" type="text/html" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/" /><logo>http://creativecommons.org/images/public/somerights20.gif</logo><feedburner:emailServiceId>blogspot/Qsdx</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4NRH0yeCp7ImA9Wx9RE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-7635081703868142883</id><published>2010-12-14T05:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T05:56:35.390-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-14T05:56:35.390-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mini-GTS" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GTS" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="BBW" /><title>The Object of my Desire</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/7635081703868142883/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=7635081703868142883" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7635081703868142883?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7635081703868142883?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/vRo7o2dtBrc/object-of-my-desire.html" title="The Object of my Desire" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">By Eelskin


Part 1

“Desire is a much more powerful force than we imagine. It overcomes our thoughts, it changes our behaviour, and it most certainly has a physical effect on our bodies, our metabolism. When you are overtaken by desire, you surrender control of yourself. Your heartbeat, your breath, your attention and your concentration are all victims of this silly little emotion for which most
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/vRo7o2dtBrc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/12/object-of-my-desire.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEHQnw-fyp7ImA9Wx9RE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-8057300070194817692</id><published>2010-12-14T05:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T05:50:33.257-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-14T05:50:33.257-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mini GTS" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Slow Growth" /><title>Make Yourself</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/8057300070194817692/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=8057300070194817692" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/8057300070194817692?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/8057300070194817692?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/9WMnot1X_lg/make-yourself.html" title="Make Yourself" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">by Thesonandheir

Katie wasn’t what you’d call a veteran of thrift stores. She was normally completely against the idea of buying second hand clothing. She was put off by the idea of purchasing something that used to belong to somebody else. Somebody she didn’t know. How could she have any way of knowing anything about that person? She didn’t know if they were a clean or dirty person. What if 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/9WMnot1X_lg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/12/make-yourself.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UMRngyeip7ImA9Wx9TEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-7209874374060899467</id><published>2010-11-13T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T23:21:27.692-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-18T23:21:27.692-08:00</app:edited><title>The Secret World of Alexx Max</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/7209874374060899467/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=7209874374060899467" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7209874374060899467?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7209874374060899467?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/uW0tAVf_SZg/secret-world-of-alexx-max.html" title="The Secret World of Alexx Max" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">I was just a below average kid until an accident changed my life 

Disclaimer notice: The following story contains elements of BE, growth, growing out of clothes, and GTS. It is a story about a girl who is hopefully dissimilar enough from one found in an American cable television show for me to avoid prosecution. Most of the names and bodies have been warped to change the innocent. If you are 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/uW0tAVf_SZg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/11/secret-world-of-alexx-max.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04DRH44fSp7ImA9Wx9TEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-2696749510257502105</id><published>2010-07-03T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T23:32:55.035-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-18T23:32:55.035-08:00</app:edited><title>Changes by Merritstone</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/2696749510257502105/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=2696749510257502105" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2696749510257502105?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2696749510257502105?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/-GcO2E5b7qo/changes-by-merritstone.html" title="Changes by Merritstone" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">This is a story loosely based on a dream I had. It is a slow shrink story with gentle giantesses (although the teasing getting pretty wicked). It also has some other forms of transformation (BE, slow growth, mini-gts), but it primarily sticks to the slow shrink.
This is my first story and I welcome comments and critiques (go ahead, I can take it).

WARNING: this story contains adult situations 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/-GcO2E5b7qo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/07/changes-by-merritstone.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMMQXs_cCp7ImA9WxBVEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-742091019087500828</id><published>2010-02-13T12:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T12:21:20.548-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-13T12:21:20.548-08:00</app:edited><title>Female Juggernaut by Eddie Delaney Jr</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/742091019087500828/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=742091019087500828" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/742091019087500828?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/742091019087500828?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/NOxsv7XCg8g/female-juggernaut-by-eddie-delaney-jr.html" title="Female Juggernaut by Eddie Delaney Jr" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Lucy Wagner looked out the window of the police station. The past week had seen the most bizarre set of circumstances in the history of the small town she lived in. The superhero team "The X-Men", had been in town trying to stop the rampage of the villian known as the Juggernaut. After much damage to the town and quite a few casualties, they had finally managed to stop his murderous rampage. In 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/NOxsv7XCg8g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/female-juggernaut-by-eddie-delaney-jr.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQNSHo-eip7ImA9WxBVEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-2811987764084102816</id><published>2010-02-13T12:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T12:19:59.452-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-13T12:19:59.452-08:00</app:edited><title>Devilish Gift by Unknown</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/2811987764084102816/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=2811987764084102816" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2811987764084102816?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2811987764084102816?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/I922F0-DcNU/devilish-gift-by-unknown.html" title="Devilish Gift by Unknown" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">"Well, another birthday and another day of crappy mail", I thought as I lugged the load of it up the forty-odd steps to my apartment. Why I got one on the third floor in the first place I'll never know.
I unlocked the door to my apartment, flopped into the most comfortable chair in the living room, and started to sort through the mound before me. "Hmm...bills, bills, happy birthday from my 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/I922F0-DcNU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/devilish-gift-by-unknown.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQESHw4eSp7ImA9WxBVEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-6530470955680976293</id><published>2010-02-13T12:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T12:18:29.231-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-13T12:18:29.231-08:00</app:edited><title>The Anniversary</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/6530470955680976293/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=6530470955680976293" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/6530470955680976293?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/6530470955680976293?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/TRn4dujDSKM/anniversary.html" title="The Anniversary" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">That Sunday morning started like any other recent Sunday morning. My wife Susan gently kissed me on the forehead then rose from the bed to get the paper and make coffee. By the time I entered the kitchen, she had monopolized the front page and was half way through her first cup. "Morning, honey", I reached over and kissed her on the top of her head. I poured myself a cup, and started reading the 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/TRn4dujDSKM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/anniversary.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAGQ3c7cCp7ImA9WxBWF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-7515385894240969641</id><published>2010-02-09T10:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T10:38:42.908-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-09T10:38:42.908-08:00</app:edited><title>Heather's Big Change</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/7515385894240969641/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=7515385894240969641" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7515385894240969641?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7515385894240969641?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/dZxrz2qPQ5Y/heathers-big-change.html" title="Heather's Big Change" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Blinking her eyes, Heather slowly came back to consciousness. The first thing she noticed was that she was on her back, looking up towards an unfamiliar ceiling. The next thing was that she couldn't move her arms or legs. She tried to lift her arms from the flat surface she was lying on, but they wouldn't budge. Next Heather tried to her legs, but they, too, were somehow immobile. She rested for 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/dZxrz2qPQ5Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/heathers-big-change.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEGQnw-eCp7ImA9WxBWF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-2875466786123739085</id><published>2010-02-09T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T10:37:03.250-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-09T10:37:03.250-08:00</app:edited><title>A Devilish Gift</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/2875466786123739085/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=2875466786123739085" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2875466786123739085?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2875466786123739085?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/OVke2R2U4zk/devilish-gift.html" title="A Devilish Gift" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">"Well, another birthday and another day of crappy mail", I thought as I
lugged the load of it up the forty-odd steps to my apartment. Why I got
one on the third floor in the first place I'll never know.
I unlocked the door to my apartment, flopped into the most comfortable
chair in the living room, and started to sort through the mound before
me. "Hmm...bills, bills, happy birthday from my 
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:4cEx4HpKnUU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:4cEx4HpKnUU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:7Q72WNTAKBA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=7Q72WNTAKBA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=OVke2R2U4zk:1O5ZwnBewzw:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/OVke2R2U4zk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/devilish-gift.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIFQHo9cCp7ImA9WxBWF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-5558478205598632521</id><published>2010-02-09T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T10:35:11.468-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-09T10:35:11.468-08:00</app:edited><title>Honey: Part 1 Wildstar</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/5558478205598632521/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=5558478205598632521" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/5558478205598632521?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/5558478205598632521?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/LkVp3UpVplw/honey-part-1-wildstar.html" title="Honey: Part 1 Wildstar" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Honey is granted the power to make people and herself grow 
Honey began this day as she began each, praying to Avoncia, the Goddess of 
Womanly Might and Power. She started worshiping Avoncia two years ago and felt 
that this was the right religion for her. It was an odd one. Had she not found
that book in the library on ancient religions she never would have known of this 
goddess as almost the 
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:4cEx4HpKnUU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:4cEx4HpKnUU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:7Q72WNTAKBA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=7Q72WNTAKBA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=LkVp3UpVplw:G5FMKB0VLfc:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/LkVp3UpVplw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/honey-part-1-wildstar.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ACR3k_eyp7ImA9WxBWF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-992284766389886283</id><published>2010-02-09T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T10:22:46.743-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-09T10:22:46.743-08:00</app:edited><title>Appeasement by Terry Sinclair</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/992284766389886283/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=992284766389886283" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/992284766389886283?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/992284766389886283?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/MvCHn_XaEhU/appeasement-by-terry-sinclair.html" title="Appeasement by Terry Sinclair" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">If I were to take a serious introspective look at my actions over the past several weeks, I'd have to conclude that all the events that I describe were essentially my fault. My fault for the initial experiments and my fault for the policy of appeasement that I adopted after things began to get out of control. It really wasn't Amber's fault in the slightest. Who knows what kind of hormonal changes
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:4cEx4HpKnUU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:4cEx4HpKnUU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:7Q72WNTAKBA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=7Q72WNTAKBA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=MvCHn_XaEhU:p6QTfjhCHms:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/MvCHn_XaEhU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/appeasement-by-terry-sinclair.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4MR385fip7ImA9WxBWEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-5653535130544704369</id><published>2010-02-03T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T19:43:06.126-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-03T19:43:06.126-08:00</app:edited><title>The Big Little Sister By Dreamtales</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/5653535130544704369/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=5653535130544704369" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/5653535130544704369?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/5653535130544704369?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/7o6YKynE0_4/big-little-sister-by-dreamtales.html" title="The Big Little Sister By Dreamtales" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Hi. My name’s Mike, and this is my story.
I guess it all started when I went over to Betty ’s house that night. She couldn’t go out -
she had to stay home to baby-sit her little sister Laurie, and we decided to make a date of
it. Betty and I had been going together since high school, off and on, and had just really
started going steady in the past few months. We were both juniors in College, 
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:4cEx4HpKnUU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:4cEx4HpKnUU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:7Q72WNTAKBA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=7Q72WNTAKBA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=7o6YKynE0_4:ka9fTC8rwYw:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/7o6YKynE0_4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/big-little-sister-by-dreamtales.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkICR30-eip7ImA9WxBWEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-7571287796361734098</id><published>2010-02-03T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T19:36:06.352-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-03T19:36:06.352-08:00</app:edited><title>Our Matriarchal Future? By DreamTales</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/7571287796361734098/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=7571287796361734098" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7571287796361734098?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/7571287796361734098?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/-LbVKXq-WpM/our-matriarchal-future-by-dreamtales.html" title="Our Matriarchal Future? By DreamTales" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Is our traditional male dominated society an anachronism? Will the new roles of
home and workplace put women on top for good?
“The fact is that women have been catching up to men in all forms of endeavor –
physically, mentally, socially – for the past century.” says Professor Emma Zonian,
Chairwoman of Gender Studies at the Institute for Genetic Research. “However, our new
studies indicate that 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h8YTldWpY1m_7PnXNwmbK9Atp1M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h8YTldWpY1m_7PnXNwmbK9Atp1M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:4cEx4HpKnUU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:4cEx4HpKnUU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:7Q72WNTAKBA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=7Q72WNTAKBA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=-LbVKXq-WpM:R6IkHHU77kc:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/-LbVKXq-WpM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/our-matriarchal-future-by-dreamtales.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMGSXY7eSp7ImA9WxBWEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-20501822709179108</id><published>2010-02-03T19:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T19:33:48.801-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-03T19:33:48.801-08:00</app:edited><title>The Au Pair by DreamTales</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/20501822709179108/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=20501822709179108" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/20501822709179108?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/20501822709179108?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/0-iO4ZAxxCk/au-pair-by-dreamtales.html" title="The Au Pair by DreamTales" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Every year Cindy, a cute, wholesome 19-year-old blonde, spent her summers at the
beach. Cindy worked as an au pair and took care of two girls, Katie and her little sister
Missie. Katie was in her early teenage years and little Missie was only 5 years old. Both
were very pretty, lively girls with long straight black hair.
Cindy loved to play with the kids; the summer was her chance to relive her 
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:4cEx4HpKnUU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:4cEx4HpKnUU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:7Q72WNTAKBA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=7Q72WNTAKBA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=0-iO4ZAxxCk:Fab7fv5z9-M:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/0-iO4ZAxxCk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/au-pair-by-dreamtales.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQFRno8eyp7ImA9WxBWEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-4277125639326490193</id><published>2010-02-03T19:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T19:31:57.473-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-03T19:31:57.473-08:00</app:edited><title>The Gift of The Magi  By Dreamtales</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/4277125639326490193/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=4277125639326490193" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/4277125639326490193?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/4277125639326490193?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/FAeeFIWMiqs/gift-of-magi-by-dreamtales.html" title="The Gift of The Magi  By Dreamtales" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Perfect! thought Jenny, a huge grin on her face as she stood before her bedroom mirror.
That special growth formula couldn't have worked better! Even with her exceedingly
critical eye she couldn't help but be thrilled at the reflection staring back at her - a
ravishingly beautiful long legged full bodied blonde, a real show stopper! While she was
always proud of her curves, she had to admit that 
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:4cEx4HpKnUU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:4cEx4HpKnUU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:7Q72WNTAKBA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=7Q72WNTAKBA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:V_sGLiPBpWU"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:V_sGLiPBpWU" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?a=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/blogspot/Qsdx?i=FAeeFIWMiqs:5K4X3SjC_n8:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/FAeeFIWMiqs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/02/gift-of-magi-by-dreamtales.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEARX46eCp7ImA9WxBXF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-195569786078928611</id><published>2010-01-28T12:30:00.004-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T12:30:44.010-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-28T12:30:44.010-08:00</app:edited><title>The DJ by Scraggy</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/195569786078928611/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=195569786078928611" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/195569786078928611?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/195569786078928611?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/z0GMIZg7pXA/dj-by-scraggy.html" title="The DJ by Scraggy" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I have always loved tall women but have been very unlucky dating them despite my quick wit and charm. My 5’2 height has been a difficult barrier to get around till one fateful night in June many years ago. I am a DJ at a local radio station making me a local celebrity to a few (very few lol), but it has its advantages in meeting girls as they sometimes will over look your looks a bit. I was 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/z0GMIZg7pXA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/dj-by-scraggy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEHQHw6cCp7ImA9WxBXF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-4330456778412168155</id><published>2010-01-28T12:30:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T12:30:31.218-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-28T12:30:31.218-08:00</app:edited><title>My Own Worst Enemy by Spitfire</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/4330456778412168155/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=4330456778412168155" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/4330456778412168155?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/4330456778412168155?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/KfbEfkGX3LQ/my-own-worst-enemy-by-spitfire.html" title="My Own Worst Enemy by Spitfire" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I am truly my own worst enemy. I mean I had it all and I messed everything up. It’s my want for things I could never or should never have that has led me to this state I’m currently in…
I had always preferred tall women, but had never found one who was even remotely attracted to me. Another reason could have been the fact at 5’10” the amount of women who were taller than me was fairly low. Well, 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/KfbEfkGX3LQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-own-worst-enemy-by-spitfire.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIEQXkzeyp7ImA9WxBXEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-5570048478161724210</id><published>2010-01-21T21:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T21:01:40.783-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-21T21:01:40.783-08:00</app:edited><title>Gaining Mystique</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/5570048478161724210/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=5570048478161724210" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/5570048478161724210?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/5570048478161724210?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/fKP30dEe93c/gaining-mystique.html" title="Gaining Mystique" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Raven Darkholm waited patiently in the small motel room, grimacing slightly as she injected another vial into her arm. Hopefully, this would be the last of such injections she needed to make. If her operative would only arrive on time, for once…
A knock at the door took her attention, and she smiled. It had to be Toad. No one else who might be after her would bother knocking; rather, they would 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/fKP30dEe93c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/gaining-mystique.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMCRns8fCp7ImA9WxBQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-9092392939868136617</id><published>2010-01-13T13:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T13:17:47.574-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T13:17:47.574-08:00</app:edited><title>Growth Encounter 11-End by Hi-Standard</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/9092392939868136617/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=9092392939868136617" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/9092392939868136617?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/9092392939868136617?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/fioWV9uOwXQ/growth-encounter-11-end-by-hi-standard.html" title="Growth Encounter 11-End by Hi-Standard" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Eleven: Fallout
 
 
The Carter Residence
Polk County, North Carolina
Thursday
Ellie lay on her side, blinking repeatedly in an effort to clear the tears caused by the impacts of the bullets striking her head.
"Ohhh," she moaned softly. She realized she was still alive, even after being shot—five times? six? She could not be certain. Her ears rang from the last, very loud gunshot. She could feel 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/fioWV9uOwXQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/growth-encounter-11-end-by-hi-standard.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQNQXk_eSp7ImA9WxBQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-1847040090365230496</id><published>2010-01-13T13:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T13:16:30.741-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T13:16:30.741-08:00</app:edited><title>Growth Encounter 6-10 by Hi-Standard</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/1847040090365230496/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=1847040090365230496" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/1847040090365230496?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/1847040090365230496?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/71LYJiVvU1U/growth-encounter-6-10-by-hi-standard.html" title="Growth Encounter 6-10 by Hi-Standard" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Six: Problems
 
 
Polk County, North Carolina
Monday
 
Ellie opened her eyes. She was lying on her side, facing the sleeping figure of her lover. Steve had been quiet during the hours after they had made love, rolling over only once under her hand. He now lay facing her, mouth open and hair wild, his eyes flickering beneath their lids in a dream. Ellie kissed him delicately and slipped from under
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/71LYJiVvU1U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/growth-encounter-6-10-by-hi-standard.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUAQXo7fip7ImA9WxBQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-25142168966351452</id><published>2010-01-13T13:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T13:14:00.406-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T13:14:00.406-08:00</app:edited><title>Growth Encounter 1-5 by Hi-Standard</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/25142168966351452/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=25142168966351452" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/25142168966351452?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/25142168966351452?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/yb1PBgzAYDM/growth-encounter-1-5-by-hi-standard.html" title="Growth Encounter 1-5 by Hi-Standard" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">One: Meteorite
 
 
Middleburgh, New York
Friday
Eleanor Andersen hefted her carrying platter and struggled across the restaurant floor to the dish tub beside the kitchen entrance, darting through the obstacle course of small tables and chairs filling the dining area. She rested the platter on the side of the tub and straightened her five-foot frame to ease the sensation of strain in her back. A 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/yb1PBgzAYDM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/growth-encounter-1-5-by-hi-standard.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQHQXY6eyp7ImA9WxBQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-2619481958905035923</id><published>2010-01-13T12:58:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T12:58:50.813-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T12:58:50.813-08:00</app:edited><title>A World As Your Oyster by Beetlebomb</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/2619481958905035923/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=2619481958905035923" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2619481958905035923?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2619481958905035923?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/4dGKm08yl5I/world-as-your-oyster-by-beetlebomb.html" title="A World As Your Oyster by Beetlebomb" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Have you ever had one of those dreams where you could impress someone by flying, and all you really needed to do was just focus really hard? Or maybe in your dream you could move things with your mind if you were just in the right state of mind? Well, what if you woke up one morning, and that feeling never left you? This is where our story begins... with Todd, a regular boy in high school at the 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/4dGKm08yl5I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/world-as-your-oyster-by-beetlebomb.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQERXkzeyp7ImA9WxBQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-2292347540407477274</id><published>2010-01-13T12:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T12:58:24.783-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T12:58:24.783-08:00</app:edited><title>A Woman's Charms by Greapos</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/2292347540407477274/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=2292347540407477274" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2292347540407477274?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/2292347540407477274?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/-XrdGStTpqg/womans-charms-by-greapos.html" title="A Woman's Charms by Greapos" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Comments (welcomed) to greapos@yahoo.com
More stories and other such nonsense at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/greapos/
 
Disclaimer – This is a piece of erotic fiction. Some would find it very naughty. Please do not read it if either you or I would be fined, thrown in jail or generally yelled at if caught doing so. It is not intended for minors or the illiterate. Otherwise, enjoy.
 
 
_________
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/-XrdGStTpqg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/womans-charms-by-greapos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUAQ3cyfyp7ImA9WxBQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-6382220837343692380</id><published>2010-01-13T12:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T12:57:22.997-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T12:57:22.997-08:00</app:edited><title>Wolf in Extra Large Clothing by Logan73</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/6382220837343692380/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=6382220837343692380" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/6382220837343692380?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/6382220837343692380?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/koZVNHjXMuA/wolf-in-extra-large-clothing-by-logan73.html" title="Wolf in Extra Large Clothing by Logan73" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I met the Wolf family the summer before starting college. I was eighteen years old and thrilled to be out of the festering cesspool that had been high school I remember it was on a Tuesday afternoon when I was feeling especially heady regarding my new freedom, and so reasoned that a leisurely walk around the neighborhood at a time when I would ordinarily have been crammed behind a desk would be 
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~4/koZVNHjXMuA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/2010/01/wolf-in-extra-large-clothing-by-logan73.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYNR34_cSp7ImA9WxBQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257928762124720144.post-8740022663848948508</id><published>2010-01-13T12:56:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T12:56:36.049-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T12:56:36.049-08:00</app:edited><title>Two Friends</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://gts-stories.blogspot.com/feeds/8740022663848948508/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=257928762124720144&amp;postID=8740022663848948508" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/8740022663848948508?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/257928762124720144/posts/default/8740022663848948508?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/Qsdx/~3/3KlNkQFtVbA/two-friends.html" title="Two Friends" /><author><name>Feureau Appleseed</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gnSxYxVS7g0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/k19FChPJEyo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">My life... well it was about as normal as you could get. I never really did have that many friends, but there was this girl I grew up with next door. Her name was Gen. We noticed one another across lawn hedges one day and ever since then we have inseparable. I always believed it was destiny.
 
Her soft brunette hair rested just below her shoulders, and radiated a beautiful shine whenever in the 
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