Chapter 4

We arrived at what looked like a mansion in Kensington. A valet helped me out of the car and drove it away to be parked after giving Walter a token. Walter took me by the arm, and we went inside. It had been totally rebuilt inside, with a proper cloakroom where I checked my fur, and he checked his overcoat. We went through a set of doors on one side of sweeping stairs, to a large dining room and were shown to our table.

The New Girl at Uskweirs Manor

a pastoral romance by Miriam Robern

To Bridewell

Monmouthshire, November 1812

Chapter 17
I leveled my gaze at Hannah and Brian, my patience wearing thin. “You know, I don’t care what you think about my life before,” I said, my voice steady and cold. “But I’ll be damned if I let you say anything bad about my wife.”

The room fell into a tense silence. Brian shifted uneasily under my glare, and Hannah’s fake smile finally cracked.

Chapter 2

We hugged and air kissed, then went through to the dining room. We had a table in full view of everybody and got a lot of looks when we were seated. Monica gave me a potted history of the shoots that she had been in since I last saw her, and I gave her a potted history of my own recent past. We were into the main course when she said something that changed the situation.

“Do you know any places I can live in London? Someone called Yvonne from an agency there has bought out my contract with the agency here.”

Chapter 7

When I went back to the shop, I found out that they had originally been living in Queensferry, right next to the Forth Bridge, so wanted that to be in the picture, along with the family of four. Fair enough. They had a postcard of the bridge that I could use to copy, as well as a family snap.

The shuttle glided swiftly back to my parents' house, but my mind drifted between two contrasting worlds. The palace, with its opulent halls and graceful arches, felt like home—a sanctuary where I truly belonged. Yet as I stepped onto the rich, loamy soil of Earth and inhaled the crisp, familiar air, a different kind of warmth enveloped me, one that spoke of childhood memories and unspoken dreams.

Chapter 6

Before I left the doctor, I made an appointment for the following Friday to get my results. I would have to hang around for the opening sale if all the others were anything to go by. I went back to the hotel and had dinner there. I had an early night but didn’t sleep quickly. I kept wondering if I had done the right things today.

©2025 SammyC

Persuaded
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Lord Brett Sinclair drove his Aston Martin up to the front portico of the Hotel Barrière Le Majestic in Cannes and threw the keys to the valet, Maurice.

“Welcome back, Lord Sinclair,” said Maurice, opening the door for the British peer, a regular visitor in the past

Author's Note: There is sex in this story. Some of it is explicitly described. I've seen folks post in the comments of other stories they were surprised or unhappy with this. Be forewarned.

©2025 SammyC

Chapter 3

I called Marilyn the next morning, before I left the motel. She told me that there was a car park on Portland Terrace, not far from the office, and to park there if I got to Southampton before the office closed. She would contact Gloria to get another key cut for the house and the office for me. I took my time going east, my car wasn’t as swift as Marilyn’s.

©2025 SammyC

“He’s alive! This boy’s still breathing—”

Chapter 1

It’s funny, you know, the things that stick in your mind. They ought to do a University Study on earworms. My grandmother was always singing or humming “I am strong, I’m invincible,” until the day she dropped dead. My mother had ‘Hotel California’ embedded in her brain. I didn’t listen to the radio at lot. Probably a good thing as having odd lines of ‘gangsta rap’ lyrics in your brain in later life would be like a living hell.

Valentine's Ball by Jennifer Brock Andy's best friend needs to show up his ex with a date to the annual Valentine's Ball – how far will he go to help him out?

Here's a Valentine story that I've been working on for a while. It’s still February, so I think it’s still seasonal. I’ve been out of practice for a while, so this ended up coming out way too long. The logjam cleared and I can write again, but I’m not that good at editing out unnecessary details into a concise form.

This might be the fourth most overdone trope in the realm of TG stories, so if you're tired of stories like that don't bother reading this one. There is no violence or force involved here, just adult language and sexual situations.

©2025 SammyC

  Mike thought he'd found the perfect Valentine's gift for his young wife. A sexy red baby doll nightie.

Her face fell when she lifted the nightie out of the box.

   “You’ve got to be kidding,” she exclaimed. “When have you ever seen me wear something like this?”

   She had me there. In the summer, she slept in a long tee-shirt and what could easily be men’s boxers except there was no fly and in the winter, it was flannel nightgowns knee length or longer.

   “Michael, it’s the middle of winter. Didn’t you notice the snow coming down as we drove home? If I wear that to bed, I’ll freeze my rearend off.”

   “You wear that to bed and I’ll warm you up in short order. Feel the fabric. It’s positively sensuous. I thought it would really enhance our performance on this romantic night.”

   “Well I’m not wearing it. If you think it will ‘enhance our performance’ all that much, then you wear it. You can freeze you hinny if you want.”

The New Girl at Uskweirs Manor

a pastoral romance by Miriam Robern

Brotherly and Sisterly Love

Yorkshire, October 1812

Irresistible
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Perhaps because my staff were always giving me a hard time about my old-fashioned manners and conservative style of dress, I was in favor of a diversity hire. We had two races other than white covered, so when I was looking for a new secretary the office manager put forward a candidate she described as “gender non-conforming”. I thought that it would be to test me, so I had no choice but to go through with an interview.

My Lying Wife
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Three Ingenues
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Ingenue definition: 1. a young woman who has little experience and is very trusting

I suppose that most people think of transgirls as being tough – the very opposite of an ingenue. I think that we were, but fragility and sensitivity are so much a part of being feminine – don’t you think?