Lolita Revisited
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I never thought that this kind of thing happened for real, but there are strange people out there.

I suppose my mother was strange too. She always had a hankering to see me dressed as a girl. She told me that she did it when I was a baby, dressing me in pink just because she liked to hear people say: “What a pretty little girl”. Any chance to put me in a dress for Halloween or fancy dress she always said: “Go as a princess. Let me get you the outfit.”

Writers Block; unlocked by a cock?

Can you authoritatively write about things that you haven’t experienced?

I write internet LGBTQ porn and Jenny always leaves comments about my stories and I always reply. We became pen pals several years ago. Jenny lives in Florida and I live on the West Coast; being 3,000 miles apart created a sense of security due to anonymity and distance. Jenny retired at age 30 due to a very large inheritance and substantial monthly royalty checks; he is a very well kept woman.

Uplifting Eight

We were up, bright and early, on Monday morning. After a cup of tea Margo kissed me and went back to her own quarters to shower and dress for the day. She had decided that she would be with me when I met Keith for breakfast.

I showered and put on my gaff and underwear, adding a pair of panty-hose that I was getting pretty good at putting on now.

I hadn’t been home for a very long time. Actually, I hadn’t been home since I went away to college more than ten years ago. My parents and siblings preferred to come to the big city, New York, instead to see me. Much more exciting than our little town. The town could have been the model for a Hallmark movie. Everyone knows everybody and all that. The church socials, the Christmas market. Well, you get the picture(s).

Since I was going to move to Paris (France, not Texas) I finally decided to go back once before I moved. Of course, my family would love to visit Paris with the excuse of visiting me, so we’d still see each other but it was Christmas and all that… Also, I have to admit that part of the reason I went back was so that I could brag about my new position as the manager of our Paris office. Quite a career move for a young woman, especially one born as a boy.

The advert looked too good to be true. A room in a mansion, free rent in exchange for housework. Mark was between jobs and was living in a rundown bedsit. He had been mugged twice and had ran out of money.