aturday morning dark, cloudy, damp, and windy with a gray overcast  sky. My Radio/Alarm clock started to buzz at six, without thinking I hit the snooze button. Six minutes later it was buzzing again. My eyes shot open and for a brief moment I thought about reaching over, snatching the alarm clock from my night stand and tossing it halfway across the room. That thought vanished a few seconds later, the alarm clock had cost me ten dollars. Repairing the window, if I tossed it through the window would cost the better part of sixty dollars. Two weeks' allowance gone down the drain. For what?

As I walked down the stairs of Theobalds Grove station, I felt scared and thrilled. I was a girl. I had seen my reflection I really looked pretty. All the same I was waiting for someone to leap at me and scream;

“Look, that boy is wearing a dress!”

As we walked down the high street, with my hand in my mothers, I realised nothing was going to happen. She looked down at me and smiled.

Reel One

Samantha was not happy. Something felt wrong. It was one of those times that something in your head said “STOP!!!” Samantha had felt it a couple of times before, and both times it had saved her life.

A week and a half after mum said I could be her "secret girl", she quietly shook me awake in the bedroom I shared with my younger brother Paul.

When she discovers her boyfriend's infidelity, a woman plans a most devious revenge.

Wrong Girl / Wrong Guy
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

James was not a patient of mine. I could never offer a patient a job, let alone take a patient out to dinner, or make advances. That would cost me my licence. No, James was a friend. Well, maybe not a true friend, but we have known one another a long time. I have always known that he is a prick, and he has always known that I can be taken advantage of.

Robbie Ashton lay in bed, listening to distant night-sounds fade into morning darkness. The house was in low pulse; his parents had been asleep for some hours. Outside, the dawn was empty save for the weary drone of some long-distance driver vanishing down some far away highway. Robbie loved these deep, quiet hours. The world seemed to begin here, and the day was still waiting to be born. He waited out the long minutes, patiently marking the passage of the stars past his bedroom window...

Wedding Date
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Pan European Gynocracy part 2. Sweetboy

A feminised male has sex with his mistress, all is not as it seems.

I followed a young looking mal that was trying hard to keep up with a stern looking woman with a blue rinse. He was carrying four bags of shopping and looked like he was having problems walking in his black shinny stiletto heels.

“Keep up Timmy dear, you don’t want the police to catch you out after dark again. You know what happened last time.”
“But I’m with you mummy, they won’t arrest me again will they?”

Picked Up
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It was a late model Corvette – electric blue. It pulled over close to the fountain and the passenger window whirred down.

“Are you Jake?” The question seemed wrong, but this was the redhead in the short black skirt and heels. She was examining her long hair and looked up to speak to him.

“Yes, I am. Who are you?” Her voice was incongruous. Masculine but not completely male.

In the not too distant future, a thief tries to steal from the mall, with unintended consequences when he accidentally trips the security system.

Looking back, I guess I should have just kept my mouth shut. But that's what happens when I get nervous or flustered. I start talking, just to break up the awkward silence and I can't stop, and that usually makes things worse. No one knows that better than Rina, my best friend.

Chapter 4 Or Make a Few Waves….

My weekend started after the room cleaning finished on Friday. I was to present myself at the hotel salon for the full treatment and, after that I would be taken to the hotel womens’ dress shop to be given my costumes for the Fiesta. Before I went to the salon I took a safety razor with me into the communal showers and gave myself a Brazilian. There was no way I would allow anyone to see how I was built down there.

Crescendo

Rob honestly didn't care that 'Nessa was a transfem; she was his daughter in every sense of the word that mattered. Their relationship might have been very different had she looked and acted like a boy, but the point was moot. 'Nessa wasn't a boy, she was a pretty teenaged girl who'd come to love him as her Father – again, in every sense of the word that mattered.

After a particularly nasty break-up, a young man’s life is changed when his ex-girlfriend gets her hands on a special voodoo doll. (Done as a request for a fan over on DeviantArt)

Butch
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I always said that I needed violence. I said it then: There is nothing like another man’s blood on your knuckles to make you feel like a man. Or that moment when you know a stand-off is going to turn to blows. The adrenalin is surging in your blood as you imagine the sound of his face being crushed. Yours or theirs, it makes no difference. It’s the buzz I needed.

And I know why I needed it. Because I knew that deep down inside me, I was a girl. I fought that every day of my fucking life.

Bra-vo.
By Angharad.

The House

            The USS FTL0476

The USS FTL0476 flew out to 100 million miles beyond the orbit of Jupiter, making sure to remain well away from Jupiter and its moons and Lagrange points.