I suppose this is all my own doing really. I had been working as Mr. Owen’s assistant for 6 months now. I loved the job he was a nice guy. Very generous to his staff and if the company was doing well we all got bonuses. Yes, Owen tech was going places. My dream of buying a narrow boat and living free on the canals of Britain could be realized before I was too old to enjoy it.

“Ugh,” I moan as my phone’s alarm wakes me from a mercifully dreamless slumber on yet another Monday morning. Of course, the fact that it’s the start of August means that all weekdays seem to blend into one, even Mondays- though over the last few months, that’s been truer than ever, regardless of the summer break.

Katelyn sits on the bleachers and watches as the other girls on the swim team compete. Because of her states, new law outlawing nongenetic girls from competing in girls’ sports. She couldn’t compete anymore. Last year she could, but this year she was informed by her school board that if she wanted to compete. She would have to do it on the boys’ team. Otherwise, she’ll be riding the bench.

"Assuming the tests come back clear, you will need to make a choice. Do you want hormone therapy that will make you appear more masculine or more feminine?”

Parker looks at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. She couldn’t believe her parents had accepted that she had wanted to be a girl since she was little. True, she has to see a counselor about how she feels. But she didn’t mind.

The counselor she has been seeing wants to see how she looked as a girl today. Her friend Tony was coming to pick her up to take her. He stood by her when she came to him about how she was.

“Parker, Tony is here to pick you up.” Mary sticks her head into her daughter’s bedroom.

Collecting the Reward
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Part 1

“I thought that I would meet you, Sir, so that you could see that I was qualified to receive the reward if I am successful.”

The Ladies’ Tee
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Is there anything more infuriating in golf than to have your playing partner set his tee on the ladies’ tee and then enter it as a valid score?

“It’s only a few yards shorter and the lie is better”. Or how about this one – “I am not going to drag my clubs over there when the trail ends here – this tee will do.”

I could protest as much as I liked, but he just gave his usual smile. It was always hard to stay mad when he did that, but it always irked me, especially when I followed the rules.

I have a wide grin on my face as I gaze at the other three women, all of whom are dressed identically to me in sparkly blue mini-dresses and high-heeled shoes (or, in my case, boots). The crowd is screaming with excitement, loud enough to bring my whole body out in goosebumps as we step forward onto the stage and raise our microphones to our mouths… before my phone rings, bringing me crashing back to reality. With a sigh, I pause the DVD and grab my phone from the coffee table, taking several deep breaths and trying to clear my throat before answering.

This is a story I wrote last year. It is a trans-romance. It has a little sex in it, but not much. It has had some criticism about spelling and grammar on other sites(not here). I have re-written some of it and corrected most of the errors.

"If you want, we can go to court and fight this out. You know being the poor put upon wife I will probably win, and you'll pay costs."

Summerfield High School:
Shay braces herself as her father drives right into the flagpole at her high school. She looks over towards him, as several security officers at her high school come running out and over to the truck.

“Are you alright, Ms.?” Security Officer Wallace looks at the young girl on the passenger side of the truck.

“I’m okay, I think my father hit his head on the windshield.” Shay looks over toward security officer Wallace.

The Pride of Wallaceville
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Wallaceville is just one of those towns in the corn belt pretty much like any other. It is a rural service town, as they say, where folks can drive from homesteads to get the things they need. It is not such a small town – there is a tractor dealership and a real supermarket as well as the usual strip of stores. And there are two churches, because the people of Wallaceville do like their religion.

***Warning Sex Scenes***