Excerpt for Maid Son: A Male-to-Female Gender Transformation by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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MAID SON

By

Tiffany White

Smashwords Edition



COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved. For sales, licensing, joint ventures, creative collaborations and cross-over events, fan mail, and more, please email mysticalex21@gmail.com.

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION

Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED

This story may include mature content and is intended for adults only. The views, opinions, values, morals, ethics, behaviors, themes, ideas, events, attitudes, and consequences (or lack thereof) expressed in this story are for dramatic effect and entertainment purposes only, and do not necessarily reflect those of either the author or the publisher. This is for fantasy entertainment only.

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Part One

Messy Room

“Timmy, I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. Clean up this room already!”

“But mom,” Timmy whined, laying lazily on his bed playing Candy Crush on his phone. “I like it this way.” He looked at his room. Countless clothes scattered haphazardly all over his chair, desk, and floor. Random fast food bags and plastic wrappers from snacks he’d eaten over the weeks. A few college textbooks on the floor. Random magazines – like Game Informer and Sports Illustrated – here and there. A hamper overflowing with dirty laundry that had “man stink” from soccer practice. A smell that lingered throughout his room. It was a mess. Maybe not the worst or messiest room in the universe – it wasn’t like a film crew from an episode of Hoarders was going to stop by or anything, but it was certainly enough for an exhausted mom to feel the need to constantly nag and complain. After all, he was 18 years old now. If he hadn’t learned to clean up after himself at this point in life, would he ever? “I have a system,” he said, surveying his mess. “I know where everything is.”

“Well, you can know where everything is when it’s all cleaned up and put away in proper places too,” his mother sighed. He did his best to ignore her and keep playing on his phone. She stood in his doorway, refusing to leave until he agreed to clean. “Look,” she said, “I know you wanted to save money by living at home your first year in college, but honey, sweetie, as long as you’re living under this roof, you have to obey our rules.”

Timmy rolled his eyes and kept playing.

“If you want to get a job and pay for your own apartment, that’s fine, you can keep it however you want. But girls will be turned off by a messy room. They like things neat and clean and tidy.”

He just rolled his eyes and continued ignoring her.

She sighed again. They’d had this conversation a hundred times already. “Just – this room had better be clean by the time I get home from work tonight.”

He didn’t respond. He scored a ton of points in Candy Crush and suddenly leveled up. “Yes!” he excitedly said about that.

“You hear me?”

He made a non-descript grunt in reply.

“Timothy.” Her voice became abruptly more stern and impatient.

He sighed. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll clean up before you get home.”

“I love you,” she said.

“Love you too, mom,” he replied, not taking his eyes off his phone’s screen.

She looked at the mess one more time. “I’ll be home by six. I expect to see the floor by then.”

“Uh huh,” he replied. “No problem.”


Part Two

Family Matters

Timmy didn’t have school today. He didn’t have a job either, not even a part-time one. He’d been accepted into the local community college, where he planned to finish his general education and then hopefully transfer to a four-year university. He still wasn’t sure what he wanted to major in. Finance? No, boring. Game design? Oh! That could be fun. But all the game design schools were super expensive. Hmm. What about… creative writing? Ironically, it involved too much reading, and not enough actual writing. Maybe engineering? But he wasn’t that smart.

Honestly, he just wanted to relax and play video games all day. He had an Xbox, PlayStation, Nintendo, AND a custom-built gaming PC. He got a credit card as soon as he turned 18. They seemed to be giving them away to every new student. So far, he’d been purchasing all his new games with that, and making the minimum payments with what little savings he had left over from the last part-time job he had over the summer.

It was such a stupid job, too. His manager was a know-it-all jerk. Someone who thought way too highly of himself for merely being the manager of a little Dip-and-Lick ice cream kiosk at the mall. Timmy had to wear the stupidest uniform there too – blue and pink stripes with an ice cream cone shaped hat. True, he got to eat as much free ice cream and put as many toppings as he wanted. But all the rude customers, annoying boss, bad hours, and minimum pay just wasn’t worth it.

Timmy’s parents had always treated him well. They bought him a nice used car on his 16th birthday. Always loaned him cash whenever he needed it, and never really asked for it back. They let him stay living at home, rent free, to save money while going to college. His family wasn’t rich, but both his mom and dad worked, and they did okay. They had a decent house in the suburbs. Kind of upper end of middle class.

His mom was a receptionist at a medical office. She always wore pencil skirts, a nice blouse, and high heels to work. His dad worked in finance. He traded “futures” for large corporations, whatever that meant. He tried explaining it to Timmy once, but it went right over his head and Timmy’s eyes sorta glazed over.

Timmy was an only child. No siblings meant all the love, attention, and money went straight to him. His friends said he was a little spoiled. They often said he was lucky and didn’t appreciate it. But Timmy said his parents wanted to do everything for him. It made his mom feel significant, important, needed. She liked taking care of him. She actually said as much one time. As for his dad, well, they were never quite as close, and he basically just said that as long as Timmy got good grades and stayed out of trouble, he really didn’t care what his son did or didn’t do the rest of the time.

Sometimes Timmy wished he had siblings. An older brother would be cool. Someone to play games with, get advice about girls, that sort of thing. Timmy wished his dad could fill in that role, but he always kept his distance. Conversations were short, to the point, and rarely about anything deep or meaningful. Truth be told, Timmy grew up feeling like maybe his dad had always wanted a little girl. Just little hints here and there. Like they’d be out at the mall or a restaurant, and they’d see a family with a little girl. His dad would make some comment about how special a father-daughter relationship is, and how lucky she was to have a father in her life.

Ironic, because Timmy felt a father-son relationship was just as important, but no matter what he said or did, he never seemed to squeeze more than a “good job” or “keep trying” out of his dad. His dad was always just so busy reading the financial section, or replying to work emails, or fixing something around the house, or relaxing and unwinding after a stressful day, and just wanting to watch TV and be left alone…


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