The Family Business UK
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Let me tell you what the family business used to be. Shit. That was our business. Pumping shit. Granddad used to have a saying from up north: “Where there’s muck there’s brass” (meaning money). And he would add to that: “And where there’s more muck, there’s more brass.” There is plenty of shit, so we did pretty well.

Five Brides
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Another day at the bridal boutique – right? A photo of six girls trying on bridal outfits, except that there was only three of us meant to be getting those special dresses. The other three were the grooms. The three tall “girls” are us – that is Quinn with his girl – the goth with the blue hair, me with the headband and Peyton the surfer with the blonde hair tied back.

House on Fire
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Kaif and Leo had just bought their 4x4 rock crawler “Boulder Boy” and were keen to put it into action. This machine had the power, the super-lifted independent suspension and the wheels and tires for the job. The cab was tight but well protected and the seats were good quality. It seemed to be in good order, but then neither of them knew these vehicles that well.

The Disappeared
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Quinn was off work. Injured in the line of duty they call it. Shot himself in the foot in the locker room. I like Quinn but he can be a klutz.

They paired me for a week or two with Gayle. Gayle is a lesbian, but you cannot deny that she is good at her job. She is just not the cheeriest soul on the planet. It makes you wonder if lesbian sex can really be that satisfying. But people’s private life is their own. I make no judgments.

Story 1: Expecting
A Christian Feminization Story
By Maryanne Peters

I want to tell all sinners and sodomites of the kind that I once was, about the joys of womanhood and motherhood. I confess that I had my doubts, but my parents were worried sick about my soul in the life everlasting. But I now understand. You have to be a parent, or an expecting parent, to truly understand the love that parents have for their own children.

Bulges
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Candace was my neighbor, and my fantasy. I always wondered what good deed I had done to deserve having a neighbor like her. She was beautiful and buxom and she had great style.

She was always well turned out with great clothes and hair and makeup always perfect. I met women all the time who just never seemed to be bothered – they were not interested in looking good, but Candace was. She seemed to me to be the ultimate lady.

Growing Out
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Hormones don’t reduce the size of your chin or your nose, or your hands and feet, but in all other respects they can work true miracles.

My hair for instance. I had worn it long before, but it still seemed like man hair. It is not like that now. It is soft and shiny and falls across my shoulders and down my back like a silken cascade. Believe it or not, this is my natural color – dark brown with a touch of auburn that lightens as exposed to the sun.

The Claimant
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

He suggested that they meet at a coffee bar at an hour that was not busy. He wanted their discussion to be “off the record” as he said it. She was intrigued more than worried. It seemed that everything had gone to plan. She was about to start life anew as a very wealthy young woman.

Escape from Neverland
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Parker Ainsley Newhart was a pretty boy. There is no denying that. All the girls said it, and the boys would have to concede it, although they would never like to. To look like Parker did and be male, could be unsettling.

Story 1: Black and White
A Christian Feminization Story
By Maryanne Peters

For me it was a chance to start again. You may mock me or even attack me, but I can always rely upon the strength of my faith.

Ambiguous
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

My name is Tracy. It was before and it is now. When I was young I never really thought of it as being an ambiguous name – like, for either a boy or a girl. Maybe it was just because we had no female Tracys at middle school. I mean, you think of Tracy McGrady and maybe Tracy Morgan, or the guy I was named after – Tracy Lawrence – some country singer that my Dad still loves to listen to. Then in high school somebody said – “Tracy is a girl’s name”. Suddenly the world seemed full of women called Tracy.

Handsome Stranger
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

He had decided that the only way to finish what he had started was to get away from all distractions. His city studio was comfortable, but the city itself was right outside his front door. It was not the noise nor the light; it was more the temptation. And because he had visitors there from time to time, he kept it tidy. He needed a place where he could throw some paint around.

The Sundial
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I have always been drawn to the sea, and I guess that was down to my father. He was a ships’ engineer and I saw little of him when I was very young, but whenever he was home he would bring strange objects and stories from the places he had been. It seemed as if his life was like a fairy tale. I wanted to follow him.

Slave to Beauty
A vignette from some images found
By Maryanne Peters

I was brought up in a beautiful home. My mother called herself “A Slave to Beauty” as if that could explain everything that she did to me – or perhaps excuse it. It was like saying that she had no choice, but surely that was mine.