Alma Mater
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Oliver Furness came to me in 1898 – I remember that it was the year that the Spanish American War ended. He had a scholarship to the University, or thought he had. He saw that my boarding house and health clinic offered lower rates for “students with refined manners” and considered that described him well enough. He was a slightly built young man, seemingly ready to study, as I had been at the same age.

The lynching tree is the oldest living thing on our farm. It was here when the first white men
came and it’s still here and growing. I guess the black folks around here have always called it that. Back when I was in elementary school Reverend Amos James began calling for the tree to be destroyed as “a symbol of white oppression.” That’s when everyone started calling it the lynching tree. Before that we just called it the big oak.

Barbie Bride

I looked at her from the corner of my eye, she was definitely flustered but I could care less, she was their mother and the behavior of her children were her own concern...my problem was that they were most likely going to distract me with their constant banter and shenanigans throughout the entire church service.

All those Firsts ... the First Panties

I'm sure it was a panty that was the first first.

Yes - I’m just that bit different – yeah, THAT bit and I wear woman’s clothes - every day. And it can be wonderful. There are risks - but... I've got through the horrors. Overall, I love what I am and how I present as a confident woman.

Starlight Champion
by Lily Rasputin

I wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear the melodious sounds heralding Harouth’s arrival. After all, the buzzing in the base of my skull had been going off for almost ten minutes. More than enough time to extricate myself from whatever mundane task I was doing and change.

We were late getting up the next morning. Lisa met Helen in her dressing gown and showed her to the lounge whilst I speed-dressed, no need for shaving any more. I slowed down to make a dignified entry into the lounge, Helen was sitting on her usual armchair and rose to greet me.

“Sorry I’m late, slept in…”

“Looks like you both did… all OK?”

“Yes, great… definitely, great…”

“I’ve something for you, things are a little more relaxed here than in the UK.”

The promised rain had finally caught up with me around two miles from home. The shower was heavy, so much for the forecast of just the odd light shower.

“Last call everyone. You no have to go home, but you cannot stay!”

The bartender, Jakob Adamovich, bellowed. He was the sole worker, except for his wife and mother who worked in the back of house to deliver the best cheeseburger with a pretzel crust to ever grace the planet. I was able to try it once, three weeks prior when they had an extra one after someone mouthed off to the six-foot-three Jake who threw him out with absolutely no effort. Jake allowed me to sit at a table at the back of the bar so I could study as it was difficult to do homework by the dashboard light.

Lucas’s makeup skills are challenged, but something very unexpected happens when he puts those skills to work.

 
It is now the 2nd November. but the shops are already bedecked with all the toys, food and decorations for Christmas. Perhaps time to put pen to paper for the Christmas story. As always, I am not fussed about the story being a formal entry to the contest, but I hope readers will enjoy the story, and it may act as a prompt for other people to join in and make an entry.

The next morning at the breakfast table a freshly grounded Tracie was almost shouting. "If I was a boy, I wouldn't be grounded, and we wouldn't even be having this discussion right now!”

Speaking through his teeth, Tracie's dad spat, "You ARE a boy!"

"No. No, she's not."

It was spoken quietly, almost unheard, but it had a force behind it that shut everyone up.

Corinne looked at her husband, "Face it, honey, she's not a boy and hasn’t been for a long time, if ever, really." He sat back down and put his forehead in his hands, staring at his plate.

Ed makes an accidental discovery at work that challenges his ideology. Should he go to HR and demand that Carl act appropriately, at least while he’s at work?

The yacht’s motion started to ease as we proceeded south, coming into the shelter of the Crete coast. We got up and dressed, donned our lifejackets and made our way up to the bridge. All was quiet. George was asleep on the guest bench at the rear of the bridge, his head on Maria’s lap. Her head was tilted to the side, somewhat asleep as well. Jorge was helming, Dimitri and Greg were nowhere to be seen. We crept to Jorge so as not to wake Maria or George; he whispered that the others were in their bunks. Dimitri was due on the helm in an hour or so.

Inside MY panties ...

Inside my panties…
Is a Gaff just a mistake?
Fake but necessary?
Looks right but feels wrong?
Does it make ME feel more womanly?
I love panties - so do I need the look-alike feel-wrong plastic-nasty 'thing'?
Does a gaff IMPROVE what I feel?
Now there's some questions.....

Set for Life
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

It was my grandmother’s hair that fascinated me. She was one of those women who always believed in keeping her hair looking great, even when it turned completely white. I remember as a boy wondering why women kept all their hair where men lost most of theirs – sometimes all of it. It seemed so sad to have been born a boy and to be condemned to a future without beautiful hair.

I started to pull on my shorts next morning. We were a little late getting up; not surprising. I had planned to have breakfast before my shower.

“No way, I want to spend the day with the girl I slept with last night”, Lisa was just dragging herself out of bed.

I shaved, carefully, despite being late as I could not risk a cut! My beard was very light in colour and density and I could have delayed shaving in male mode, but definitely not as a girl!

Restyling Danny
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Preface

This is a story from and idea by Erin contained in my latest anthology published by Doppler Press on Amazon (link below the story). Please remember that Doppler is a key supporter of Big Closet and buying books from their impressive stable of TG story writers is a way of supporting your favorite site.

Feminist Genie in the Lamp