Jacked Up Part 11

I followed Maisie to a bedroom which was huge and very well equipped. She said that she would be back in time for me to get ready for dinner but all I need to do now was have a good bath which she had already drawn, then pop into bed and have a good sleep as she was sure that I had already had a full day.

Just east of Benton is an unguarded railroad crossing. According to legend, one cold, foggy, autumn afternoon a school bus full of children became stalled on the tracks. Before the driver could get the children off the trail, a freight train came barreling through and smashed into the side of the bus, crumbling it up like a sheet of paper. In the blink of an eye, the bush became nothing more than a twisted collection of metal and wire, reaching the wreck, fireman found the mangled bodies of six school children tangled up in the spiderweb of bent medal, broken glass that bus had become.

Tessa Greenhart had entered the world biologically male, an insignificant Y-chromosome carelessly tacked onto the end of her DNA. But recent events had proven that biology did not equal destiny; at least not for her. Tessa's body had been a template, a blank page on which sex and gender could be written...

Part 10

We spent the night christening my new sheets and it was glorious sex. I did not really fancy her and she did not really fancy me but we had both gone too long without love and I was able to satisfy her as a lesbian and then as a man. Luckily she had brought her own condoms and I used the whole packet of three before we were tired enough to sleep.

The Door to Nowhere was open. KC gaped at this marvel in childish disbelief. His life had been a montage of daydreams and fantasies up to this point. Months ago, he'd imagined that the door might open into Narnia or some other magical land. But he'd tested that particular fancy dozens of times; he knew that the door was merely a facade, nothing else. His mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing.

Yet, here he was, the door was open, and there was light coming from somewhere behind it...

Jame’s changes included improved health and longevity for all, a greater sense of responsibility regarding managing population and ecological responsibility. Greenhouse gas emissions plummeted, re-afforestation occurred at an ever increasing pace and global warming had been reversed. Within a hundred and fifty years, with the exception of St. Helena, Terra had taken over all of Earth because the scum had all died. Most had been killed by each other, some had died from cold or starvation and a few had been eaten by other predators who had been increasing in numbers as the pressure from humans on their environment had disappeared.

I pulled on a pair of cotton underpants; white hipster briefs with a tight elastic waist band. Turning back towards the mirror, I froze in mid-breath. With my hair spilling over my shoulders and my panties drawn up to my belly button, I was no longer a boy. Raising a hand to my throat, I regarded my image in round-lipped silence. My mother had been right.

I looked just like a girl.

Bang! ‘Freak!’ Bang! ‘Weirdo!’ Bang! ‘Faggot!’

Bobby Simpson was preparing to hit my head off the school locker when a large pair of hands grabbed him around the neck and lifted him off the ground.

‘Stop hitting him!’

Bobby gurgled in response.

‘Do you know who I am?’

‘You’re Beatrice the Beast’.

‘Call me that one more time and you’ll wake up in hospital.’

She dropped Bobby who stumbled, just avoided a face-plant and ran whimpering around the corner of the corridor.

‘You saved my life. My hero!’

My hometown of Benton is surrounded by half a million acres of untouched forest that are rich with game and hold untold natural treasures. Hidden in these forests are dozens and dozens of small deer camps that at most can boost a dozen voting members. The supporting these scattered little camps are dozens of small businesses. I would even say, many merchants even depend on the yearly influx of hunters to balance their books. I say all of this, because I myself am a hunter.

Graphic created by Patricia Marie Allen from photos on Unsplash .
Background by Jorge De Jorge , model by Alex Blăjan ,
coffee and muffin by Nathan Dumlao

Authors note: This story first appeared in the “ One Dozen Roses ” anthology and has been edited to be read as a standalone.
You can read it in the anthology here .

Jacked Up Part 9

I spent the next weeks training in the mornings, being taught in the afternoons and spending my evenings on the computer, getting the casualty lists of all of the ‘accidents’ and bombings that I could. I cut and pasted all of the likely targets onto another spreadsheet for later use.

Homemaker
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I never thought that there was anything odd about Matt. I would not say that we were friends, but we worked alongside one another for three years and we always talked. I knew that he was married, and I had even met his wife, once, when we met on the street after work. She was plain as I recall.

“Perhaps my best con was on Belinda. I telt her there was a song from the sixties with the lyrics ‘Lie down girl let me push it up push it up lie down.’ She absolutely refused to believe it. I kept that one going for thirty years. It was only when one of her mates said, ‘I remember that,’ that my ‘con’ was busted.”

Peter to Penelope

By Alison Mary Murdoch

Edited by Kelly Blake

A Twist of Fate…

Being the Duty Paramedic at a highway station 12 miles North of our regional hospital, I received an emergency call.

"A boy injured in a fall from a trail bike...”

Finn and Fiona. Day One

My name is Phineas Olsen and I am a thirty year old accountant for a ‘wellness’ company. It is not an onerous job and there seems to be a huge market for our products and services which keeps me pleasantly busy five days a week.

Protected
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Mommy was always very protective of me. She would say: “I worry about you being bullied because you are so small. Five foot three and 115 pounds is really a bit small, even for a girl. With your lack of muscle and your delicate, even feminine appearance you are a target for mean boys.”

Jacked Up Part 8

I sat, in a state of shock, and he allowed me a few moments to consider what he had said. “My parents were certainly no threat” I said “They were loyal, unlike myself. Being given that permit was a joke, a party piece for the in-crowd. It did stand me in good stead in the CIA as it allowed me to be privy to a few things better left unspoken about.”

In the three months since she'd entered the Program, Verity had been exposed to indignities without number: probes and penetrations; medical procedures which invariably left her shaken and tearful. The invasions never seemed to end. They'd explored her most intimate recesses with a barrage of wicked-looking instruments, delving and touching and pricking and poking until she'd begged them to stop, wailing like a child as each new device was inserted. Still, there was something worse than all the violations she'd suffered over the past ninety days...

Struggling to survive the lethal poverty of a post-apocalyptic world, young Verity Sherman has volunteered for "genetic reconfiguration;" a long and torturous medical procedure which effectively transforms biological males into fertile young women. If successful, Verity will be granted wealth, comfort and privilege beyond her wildest dreams - but only if she can survive the horrors of reconditioning. A dark, dystopian vision of a future where gender is a fluid medium and sexual slavery is the only alternative to the slow, creeping death haunting the slums of the Red Zone.

Deniability
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

The Oval Office seemed somehow smaller than she imagined. The curved corner-less walls gave it a surprisingly warm feel – it was after all, the shape of a womb. The color was apricot – warm and sweet. The trim was matt white – clean and tidy. There was a lounge area that looked softer than soft. But at the windows was the business end – the empty desk.

They remained standing as the President entered. He took his seat and did not invite them to sit, so they remained standing.

When I was in fifth grade the schools still did the Halloween parade.
On the afternoon of the Friday before Halloween or on the
actual day when it was not on a weekend we would have a party and
everyone would put on their costumes. Then we would have a parade all
the way around the school and across the stage. The line of kids in
costume would snake through each class room and then at the end of the line
that class would join up. When the first class got back to their room
they would sit down and all the other classes would walk past.

Once we've finished eating our dinner, the dishes had to be collected, washed, dried and stored in the cupboard. Once that chore had been done, I was then free to get a bath. I meant to bath before dinner, but instead I had retreated to my room to brood. Mom's scolding had really taken the wind out of my sails if you will. The bath did little to lift my spirits. Once my bath was finished, I walked into my room and as expected I found my mom sitting on my bed, she had changed too, she now wore a simple blue housecoat that was tied at the side.