My Grandmothers Story

I have hesitated to share this story, but with the ending of Roe in the US, I think I must.

This story has no sex in it.

The School Bully
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

It was the home of Jason Davis – the school bully. Jason’s mother answered the doorbell. Chrissy was still wearing the ridiculously short skirt, but had changed her top to something that better displayed her burgeoning breasts.

“Hello Mrs. Davis,” said Chrissy. “I am here to see Jason.”

“My God. It’s Christopher isn’t it?”

“Not for over a year now, but yes, it’s Chrissy now.”

“Come inside, Sweetie,” she said. “What a brave child you are. It must have been so difficult for you.”

Pretty makes me Happy.

One more of my 'starter' stories with just 500-words-of-text.

Do we need the other versions of the title – Sleazy, Dopey, Sleepy, Fearful, Nasty & Dick or whatever they might be.

It’s kind of tricky to say EXACTLY what I want. Let’s start with some facts. I’m NOT a dwarf. I’m nearly 6 foot tall, middle-weight, middle-this, middle-that. I feel that I’m relatively normal but that doesn’t mean a lot these days.

Since you read this on BCTS you are familiar with my situation.

I wore a skirt to school ONE day to see what would happen. At the time I was known as Toby. Well, it was supposed to be only one day. Things snowballed. Being tagged as a girl. Cheerleading, ballet, standing up to bullies, assigned to the girls’ locker room. Even a boyfriend. Ending up as the popular girl, slayer of bigots, savior of damsels in distress (perhaps not the last). The Prom Queen ruling the school.

Cole was in heaven as soon as we stepped through the doors. The entrance was brightly illuminated to showcase the attendees' costumes as they walked through. I hadn't even had the chance to properly take in the scene when a cameraman took one look and almost immediately accosted us, ushering us to the side where pictures were being taken.
 
"Okay I guess we're going this way now" I muttered to my friend.
 
"Just go with the flow" he replied.
 

And now for something completely different. Actually, it was my latest story, Death in Venice Beach, that was something completely different. This is more the normal me; short, cute and twisted (I’m only 1.64 m tall).

In the end it had been quick.

The time finally came when I wasn't allowed to come to work without my hair tied up. I always kept it loose because it was easy, and as a man I really didn't know many hairstyles. I only put my hair up in a ponytail once with the help of Mistress, and even that was a struggle. But my superiors had other plans for me. They specifically instructed me that from now on, I had to wear my hair in a bun when coming to work. They said it would give me a professional look, whatever that means.

When my youngest, Lawrence (or more usually Larry), began high school I was not surprised that he had problems. Not scholastically. Larry is a bright boy. No, the thing about Larry is that he is “odd”. I can’t describe it better than that since I haven’t been able to pin it down better myself. There is nothing tangible. He doesn’t look funny in any way. No big nose or limp or anything like that. He’s not a macho boy but in no way girly (even if some would characterize his love for ballet as girly, which anybody that had seen him on stage would know is a mistake). He’s just “odd”.

Anna Smith and her twin brother John had just turned 13 when both her parents went to the Amazon on a research mission for 6 months. Their parents were lead researchers. They worked long hours before the mission, so the children were accustomed to being alone much of the time when they were not at their school. The youngsters knew how to have groceries delivered, had debit cards and could transfer funds around various accounts.

My eyes can't tear themselves away from the image I see in the mirror, and I'm about to cry.

My name is Daniel, I'm 12 years old and I didn't go to school today because I felt bad. Mom works as a nurse and my sister Katherine (Katty) is in High School, so I have the house to myself.

I've always been attracted to my sister's pretty clothes (especially her cheerleading uniform), so as soon as Katty left, I ran to her room and took off these annoying, boring boy clothes and grabbed my sister's cheerleading uniform. sister, so I put it on.

Kobayashi Mary Lou

"Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the star-ship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: …"

The Enterprise computer automatically signaled Red Alert when more than one hundred unidentified ships materialized ‘from nowhere’, partly surrounding the Enterprise.

Captain Kirk, who was on the Bridge ordered: “On screen. Mister Spock. Analysis please. Lieutenant Uhuru, open hailing frequencies and standard greetings.

The lingerie and swimwear gig didn't pan out. The lady in charge was a bit too much to handle and ended up letting me go because of a certain incident she reported to Mistress Athena. I admit, I made mistakes too. But there was this strange urge in me to explore wearing lingerie (maybe hidden desires), so I indulged in it secretly (after work hours, of course). I couldn't resist and kept doing it until I was caught, leading to the lady's anger and betrayal. Mistress Athena was not happy, and I felt the need to redeem myself.

Monday morning I woke with a feeling of dread. My mum came into my room at 6.30.

"Come on John. It takes women longer to get ready than men. You'll soon get used to it. Now, shower shave and meet me in the spare room."

After that was done, I walked into the spare room and saw what lay in wait for me.

A pair of smooth black knickers with lace panels at the sides.

"They were the least fussy ones I could find before you moan," Mum said.

I slowly dressed in the soft, unfamiliar clothes.A black bra with lacy cups came next. Mum stuffed them with tights.

Battles of the Sexes

The estrangement between men and women that had been becoming a deeper and deeper divide for over a century became a matter of hate to many if not most.

3/30/2024, 6:20 AM

Completely True Account.

Almost Captive In A Box

This is what I can remember of a completely true story that I have never written about or talked to anyone regarding the creepy people I met. It was so traumatic that I blanked it out until now.

This took place between 2005 and 2006 near Sherwood, Oregon. Later when I returned to make sure I was not remembering a hallucination, The place was gone, and tract houses had been built there.

Re-engineered
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Dominic Grady came from a long line of engineers, and he was smart enough to follow that line. Not as smart as others in his family, like his older brothers Rod (structural engineer) and Paul (environmental engineer), but smart enough not to let the family down.

The Plagiarist

Plagiarism is alive and well, and it is the greatest literary art form ever known.

A super-short based on a conversation on our way to songwriters’ group.

Life can be tough if you're an artist, and I don't want to hear any agita about whether a potter is an artist or craftsman. Craftsperson. Whatever. A painter uses his hands to paint, a musician uses her hands to play; I use my hands to sculpt wet clay into interesting shapes. Then I use my hands to paint them.

So: I'm an artist. Stop arguing!

Extended
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

If I don’t look happy about it, it’s because I wasn’t. I had tampered with my sister’s shampoo so she ended up with purple hair the day before the big dance, so my mother agreed upon the punishment.

“You need to understand what hair means to a girl, Mason, so you will spend a month with girl hair.”