Literature
The Skinsuit Redemption, Part 1 (MTF, FTM)
Julian adjusted his glasses and stared at the flushed sheet of synthetic skin stretched out before him on the workbench. At 40, he was lithe and lean, with dark circles under his sharp brown eyes —a man shaped more by nights spent in labs than days out. His wavy black hair had begun to thin slightly at the crown, but Patricia always told him it made him look distinguished.
“Can you believe it?” Patricia, his wife and research partner asked, her voice filled with satisfaction as she leaned over the bench beside him. At nearly the same height as Julian, she was well maintained for her age. Her athletic frame was the result of morning jogs and exercises for staying fit, even while buried in research. Her auburn hair framed her sharp features, and her hazel eyes sparkled with the same passion that had carried them through years of setbacks and breakthroughs.
“It’s a game-changer,” Julian replied, running a finger along the edge of the skin. It even felt real —a masterpiece that could
