The device was a simple spinal implant. Something injected into the fluid of the spinal column, carrying the capacity to deliver tiny electrical impulses. These impulses were so small that the minute battery had sufficient capacity for one hundred single tiny surges. But directly in the spine those surges translated to bursts of incredible pain. Julie felt that one hundred such jolts would be all that was needed to adjust behavior. In the case of her own son Chris, she had used less than fifty.
“Actually, I thought you were a woman when you first applied,” said Elspeth Mabey, as she sat in her drawing room sipping her tea. “You put your surname first, you see: Bonnie Keith. And here you are, Keith Bonnie.”
“I have been in Europe, Ma’am, where they write their names that way,” the newly recruited driver replied. “Were you looking for a woman?”
Twister
A Short Story inspired by a Captioned Image
By Maryanne Peters
I put it down to good policework. My policework. Checking the scenes thoroughly. Interviewing the witnesses. Understanding the clues. Good policework. Dedication.
My father was a policeman. I respected him and I respected the work that he did, but he did not achieve great heights. He said that it was about the satisfaction of doing good. That is the measure of achievement that a policeman should be aware of, not their rank or salary bracket.
The slap bought me back to consciousness with a stinging pain on my cheek.
“Wake up, Doctor Daly.”
My eyes had real trouble focusing as my surroundings seemed so unreal. In front of me was a attractive middle aged woman dressed in traditional dominatrix style, a sort of vinyl outfit with fishnet stockings and heels, her dark hair pulled back from her snarling face.
“What is this? What is going on? Who are you?” I gasped in disbelief.
“The parody is the last refuge of the frustrated writer. Parodies are what you write when you are associate editor of the Harvard Lampoon. The greater the work of literature, the easier the parody. The step up from writing parodies is writing on the wall above urinals.” - Ernest Hemmingway.
“Turnabout is fair play.” — Angela Rasch
The following parody has many references to Cary Grant and his movies. . .above and beyond the obvious. Should you get bored with this story, or if the story runs against your grain. . .use it as a puzzle. . .try to pick out all those references.
This story also contains several un-attributed quotes. We apologize for trying to be someone or something we’re not. We suspect the nature of the story supports this decision.
My mother said that she prayed that her children would not be male. A brothel is no place for boys.
But I was a boy, and so was my real cousin Dee, and my pretend cousin Jay.
Dee was older than me by three years, but Jay was only a few months younger than me, so we played together. Dee looked after us a bit, I guess. Both of us looked up to Dee.
Greg has long fought her need to transition to the girl she is. Now, she is going to college and starting a new life as Angie. This is her story of discovery and the friendships that evolve in…
This has been a Hatbox story. It will be posted as a free story for a short time.
Jim and Heather had formed an eight-step pact during high school. They would attend Vanderbilt together and take those classes that would best prepare them for the MCAT. Once they had their undergraduate degrees they would get married, and apply for admission to Yale. After accepted, they would study to become surgeons, work diligently, and graduate with honors. They would then return to Nashville and work for the largest hospital in Tennessee (the highly regarded HealthWing.) Heather would become Director of Medicine, and Jim would become Chief Surgeon. All goes according to plan except for one small change. A few months into their years at Yale, Jim decided that a career as an RN would be a much better fit.
Years later, Heather uses her administrative position at HealthWing to make mandatory changes in the nurses’ dress code.
I could never hate my son. How could a mother hate her own child? I remember the first moment that he was laid upon my chest – purple pink and wet from my womb – so small and fragile. How could he grow up to be just like his father?
“Seeking an older sissy” was the posting on that sissy site. “I'm done with flighty, younger, gold-digging fembois, I want an intelligent but servile older sissy to serve me.”
Greg has long fought her need to transition to the girl she is. Now, she is going to college and starting a new life as Angie. This is her story of discovery and the friendships that evolve in…
You can probably guess how it began. It’s in the title. It was a beauty pageant, more than one in fact, but the first one had to be a “Womanless” Beauty Pageant.
My mother had been a beauty queen. She married my father who was an athlete and a pro ballplayer when they met. To his great satisfaction he had three sons. I was the youngest. We were all brought up to play sport as our father had. None of us had the slightest interest in domestic things. We wanted nothing more than to be like our dad.
My uncle was a religious man. When I say religious, I mean that he claimed to be a Christian. He claimed to live his life by the principles preached by Christ and his church. He claimed to be good.
When I say my uncle, I mean that he was the husband of my aunt – my mother’s much younger sister. That meant that he was not my uncle by blood nor was he more than about 10 years older than me.
Greg has long fought her need to transition to the girl she is. Now, she is going to college and starting a new life as Angie. This is her story of discovery and the friendships that evolve in…
I should explain right at the beginning why Daddy did the things that he did to me. You see, Daddy is not my real father. That is the whole problem, and the reason why things fell apart. He told me that he did not want to believe that I was not his, so he ignored the fact that I did not look anything like my two older brothers. He loved me, and now he loves me more.
Mother Daughter Bonding
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters
"I don't know about this," I said. “It’s like Stan and Kevin might have the wrong idea about us. Just because we like dressing up as women now and again does not mean we are gay, or anything like that. I'm straight, just like you Dad.”
"Sure," my dad replied, but did I sense a little uncertainty? "It’s just a fantasy thing. We have to explain that to them. It’s a release mechanism. I used to do it before I was married, and well, since your mother died, I just slipped back into old habits.”
Greg has long fought her need to transition to the girl she is. Now, she is going to college and starting a new life as Angie. This is her story of discovery and the friendships that evolve in…
Greg has long fought her need to transition to the girl she is. Now, she is going to college and starting a new life as Angie. This is her story of discovery and the friendships that evolve in…
I am slightly embarrassed that I did not pick her sooner, having worked with transwomen before. I am not even sure what tipped me off, but it must have been enough to give me confidence to say: “You’re trans aren’t you?” She looked as if I had pulled her whole world down around her.
“You may not be surprised to know that in the week before Valentine’s Day, we get a lot of this,” said Frances Digby, casually. The manager of the classy lingerie boutique “Dessous” looked at her captive with condescending disdain.
Greg has long fought her need to transition to the girl she is. Now, she is going to college and starting a new life as Angie. This is her story of discovery and the friendships that evolve in…
I used to say that I could wrap Daddy around my little finger. I suppose that is what most daughters say. He basically gave me everything I asked for, but really it was just because he could afford it. Some things he would never let me have. A sex life seemed like one of those.
Melanie Gill had been so proud of her garden, but now it was a mess. The illness and death of her youngest and favorite daughter Helen had destroyed her will to do anything but weep. But now she looked out at what had been her pride and joy, with determination rather than despair. Maybe, if she got busy, her mind might be distracted from her grief. Even for a moment, that would be a relief.
Greg has long fought her need to transition to the girl she is. Now, she is going to college and starting a new life as Angie. This is her story of discovery and the friendships that evolve in…
Checks can be made out & sent to:
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Note: $6000 is the operating, maintenance and upgrade budget. Amounts received in excess of the $6000 will be applied to long term debt accrued over the last 19 years.