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~From: tigger@alices.com

~Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg

~Subject: A Second Season Part 1 (Femdom, Fm, cd, late teen)

~Date: Fri, 29 Nov 1996 15:40:31 -0500

Organization: House at Pooh Corner

~Lines: 471

X-Newsreader: MicroPlanet Gravity v1.01

Second Season

The Continuing Story of Michelle and Aunt Jane

by Tigger

Based on the Characters and Situations presented in "Seasons of

Change", by Joel Lawrence, Copyright 1989 and reposted by Karen

Mitchell in the summer of 1996. No part of Mr. Lawrence's

original work has been changed in the writing of this story.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction intended for the

entertainment of adults in localities where it is legal for them

to enjoy this type of work. If you are not a legal adult, you

should not be reading this and moreover, you are abusing the

trust someone put in you when they gave you access to the

Internet. If it is illegal to read this, then you already know

that you are violating the terms of your Internet access. Please

leave. If you don't enjoy adult or erotic stories, why are you

here?

Part 1: Michelle's New Sister

Jane was working at her desk in her study. Indian summer had

arrived with a vengeance, warming the early autumn day and making

the air softly sultry. Jane had been trying to organize her

thoughts concerning Michael/Michelle in preparation for making

her regular periodic report on her charge's progress. Normally,

Jane phoned her old schoolmate, Barbara, but that was not

possible. Barbara was off on another of her jaunts and was not

available by phone. Not to her. Not to Michael, either, should

Jane have allowed or should Michael have truly needed such a

contact. Jane wondered how often Barb had been unavailable to

him in the past. Would he be demurely sitting in her garden at

this moment, elegantly turned out in Laura Ashley fashions if his

Mother had had more time for him earlier in his life? Well, he

• was* in her garden. Michelle had continued to make major

strides towards getting out of her skirts and on with his life

again.

Why that bothered her so much she could not say, but it did cause

her some consternation. She had felt sad when her girls

graduated in the past, but this was different, stronger.

Sighing, she castigated herself for the non-productive tail chase

her thoughts had devolved into. None of this was getting the

letter written. With a physical and mental shake, she set her

pen to paper and began the letter to Michael's Mother.

Dear Barb, October 1

How are you? Hope you enjoyed your trip. By the time you

actually read this, we will have to make a decision about

Michael's future here and at St. Andrews. I am sending this

letter now so that you will have the benefit of my current

thinking when we talk at the end of this month.

Everything is going well. I know this sounds cliche'd, but it is

almost going too well. Don't know why I am concerned, but I am.

Michelle, (pardon me, but that is how I think of your child now

and I will probably mix my names and genders throughout this

letter) is doing remarkably well. Amiable, mature, refined and

polite. She now consistently strives toward, and achieves every

goal I set for him, without complaint or demure. Just pleasant

resolve. As I told you in our last phone call, I was very

concerned when the boy I had planned on becoming Michelle's

little sister did not materialize for us. Turns out that he went

off the deep end and assaulted a security officer at the

temporary juvenile lockup facility he was being held at while

awaiting his preliminary hearing. The original plan was for the

judge scheduled to hear the case (another of our sorority

sisters) was going to offer him the choice of spending the rest

of his minority at reform school or coming to me. After his

attack on the guard, the state's attorney has decided to try the

boy as an adult. He will be a guest of the state for the next few

years. Frankly, I do not need that type of violence in my home

but I was saddened for Michelle's sake. However, her recent

progress has been unprecedented in my experience - I have

released charges who had shown less progress than he has in these

past weeks. And yet, it has been so fast. I would like to

believe that his final 'tete � tete' with his big 'sister' before

he left us in August is at the heart of this maturing, I am still

wary. Something has happened. Something that I did not cause

and that is outside of my not inconsiderable experience in these

matters.

I believe that a major part of his sudden development is his

flowering romance with the girl I told you about after the

dramatic production last month. You remember her? Karen Austin?

She is a lovely girl with a very strong will and personality -

reminds me of us when we were in school together. Very smart,

very together and Michael adores her. I have been permitting

them to date occasionally and to spend some time alone together

on most weekends. Michael is permitted to do his courting in

male dress, although he still cannot undo all of the little

feminine touches I insist upon when he is home. And if his

eyebrow lines are a little under-done the morning of a date, I

don't mention it as long as he is following the other rules. I

think the fear that I might "ruin" a date of his, or force him

into some feminine fripperies when calling on Karen acts both as

a spur and as a deterrent to our little girl-boy. He must really

enjoy spending time with Karen because our little Michelle comes

back from these encounters even more determined to excel in her

feminine studies and deportment.

I went out with them two weekends ago to spend the afternoon at

the historic Plymouth Plantation. Karen's Grandmother was

supposed to come with us but had to cancel out due to the heat.

She is quite elderly and not very strong. Karen almost canceled

out to be with her, but in the end, Michael and her Nana

prevailed on the girl to come along. In any case, I was very

pleased with Michael's behavior that day. Even without the

constraints imposed on him as Michelle, he was a gentleman

throughout. He did not even take umbrage when Karen teased him

about how he would look in early colonial dress - women's

colonial dress that is. I think Karen was amazed at how well

Michael carried off his role of Alice and is not above gently

needling him about it at times. Michael merely smiled with

benign dignity and gave her a hug. No blushes, no stammered

denials, just simple acceptance of her little joke. If I did not

know him better, I would have sworn he even enjoyed the exchange

with her.

Now that I think about it, that may be the largest part of my

misgiving about his emotional and mental state just now. With

Karen, the Michael I saw is a confident young man, secure in his

masculinity and in the regard of the young woman he was with, yet

softer and more sensitive in his approach to her and to his

surroundings. As I said, truly a gentle man in every sense of

the term. And yet, when she is at home with me, dressed in her

skirts and camisoles, Michelle comes across as the epitome of

genteel young womanhood. Faultless manners, impeccable grooming

and appropriate cosmetics combined with a demure and smilingly

pleasant disposition. The latter I can accept because nothing

less would be accepted and she knows that, but he seems to have

jumped an entire phase of my learning process and that has me

concerned. Normally, the experienced boy more clearly perceives

the benefits derived by his "little sister" when he watches over

her as she begins to change during the admittedly harsh days of

initial petticoated humiliation. And yet, he has somehow become

almost completely comfortable with his femininely-gentled

masculinity. If this is an act, it is the best I have ever seen

in all my days of petticoating adolescent males. If he is faking

this, I don't know what I can do, short of completely exposing

him as a sissy, to get his attention back. And I can't do that -

the potential harm to both of us is simply too great.

Ah, I don't know. Maybe I have grown too comfortable with my

time proven process of character reconstruction. Maybe I have

become a creature of habit who wants things to go my way all the

time. On the positive side, to give you an idea how comfortable

Michelle is becoming with me, last week she played a prank on me

worthy of a sorority sister. She slipped into my room one

afternoon while I was out and replaced my cosmetics with some of

the long lasting ones I used on her early on. Little minx knew I

was going on a date that night and that I would be dolling up.

Yes, I still use a heavy hand with the eye makeup when I am on

the prowl, dear, and who taught me how, hmmmm? Well, I spent the

next four days in full war paint until it finally wore off. Of

course, Michelle spent those four days and a couple more in her

little girl clothes playing with her dolls as punishment, but

even that indignity was accepted with grace and good humor. The

little stinker even teased me, in a sweetly feminine way of

course, about my "high color". I almost choked trying not to

laugh out loud because she did it so perfectly. You know, I

could almost get used to having her around all the time if this

is the way she is going to behave from now on.

The other good report I have for you is that since it is now the

school year again, I, as School Mistress, have instituted home

learning lessons. Dear? I think that much of Michelle's problem

at St. Andrew's was simple boredom. That child is so smart it is

scary, and I don't believe she has ever been properly challenged

in the classroom in her life. She has been using that nearly

photographic memory of hers to regurgitate the teachers' own

opinions back at them. Well, I will challenge our little miss,

although that will pose quite a challenge for me, as well. Our

lessons, of course, have a decidedly feminine bent to them.

Besides the obvious (Michelle is turning into a superb cook), we

have plunged headlong into some very unique academic

investigations. Geometry led us to building our own embroidery

patterns, which in the normal course of learning led us to the

study of blood chemistry. Getting bloodstains out of white

embroidery linen is so difficult, isn't it, but it is better than

having to start our sampler over again each time we stick our

fingers with the needle. Our history project for the semester

involves discovering the forgotten women of the past. I was

surprised at the fervor Michelle showed for this effort and

became suspicious that it might have been the opportunity to go

to the library dressed as Michael and not interest in the project

that prompted his dedication. However, Michelle continued the

library research after I ordered no more boy clothes at the

library. I am not a historian, but I think what she is

developing may be suitable for publication.

In any case, Michael will be far ahead of his contemporaries when

he returns to St. A's after the New Year. As I write these

thoughts out for you, I have reached the conclusion that you can

plan on that eventuality now, my dear. Whatever my misgivings, I

think Michael will have earned his trousers by then. Well, I

have to go and get this in the mail.

With Love,

Jane

Jane stuffed and stamped the envelope and sat back in her

favorite chair in the study. Outside her window, she saw

Michelle, dressed in the soft sweater and skirt set she and Marie

had just purchased for her. She was reading something very

intently under a shady tree in the garden. Another psychology

book, probably. Know thy enemy? Jane wondered if she was still

the enemy. Maybe it was "know thyself", instead.

Sighing resignedly, Jane reached for the calculus textbook that a

professor friend had recommended as a good review text. Keeping

two steps in front of her young miss, academically, was not

nearly as much fun as planning her sissy's next little

embarrassment. Then she glanced again at the look of fierce

interest and concentration on Michelle's lovely face. It might

not be as much fun, but it was certainly satisfying in another,

deeply personal way.

Michael sighed and put down the book he had been trying to read

for the last fifteen minutes. It could not compete with his

contemplation of this evening's date with Karen. He would go

upstairs and find the male outer wear Jane permitted him for

dating, then take the bus over to Karen's Nana's house where he'd

change back into Michelle for Karen. The irony of that double

switch, and the fact that Jane did not know of his double-double

life amused Michael greatly. Here Jane was making this huge

concession, letting him be a boy again for his girl, and he would

change back to a girl for his girl friend. He chuckled softly

at the image of Jane finding out.

Karen had threatened him with something she called a "chick-flick" for

tonight's entertainment, whatever that meant. Going

out dressed didn't frighten him when Karen there with him. She

helped him, encouraged him, praised him and generally kept him

out of trouble. She would not expose him to the humiliation and

ridicule of being discovered as a boy beneath his skirts as he

had once believed Jane would have done. Besides, outings like

the one she had planned made Karen very happy. And very horny,

he thought. The unfeminine grin curling his mouth was completely

at odds with his perfectly made up face.

Later, they would return to her place for more of Karen's lessons

in the arts of dancing and lovemaking. Making love to Karen, or

having Karen make love to him was about the most affirming things

he had ever experienced. His groin tightened in response to the

deliciously sensual thoughts and he groaned as his tight satin

panties painfully restrained his growing erection.

Michael realized, even if Aunt Jane did not, that it was Karen's

acceptance of his feminine side that gave him the confidence he

now wore along with his male clothes. Karen liked *him*, enjoyed

being with *him*! That made everything else easy to bear. Heck,

Karen enjoyed her 'girl friend' so much, he'd taken to working

even harder to perfect those little skills and habits. Her

pleasure was a much stronger motivator than his own self interest

or Jane's increasingly hollow threats. He was even starting to

like Jane, although he had been as yet unable to express that.

Surprisingly, he'd been disappointed when his "David" had not

shown up. That was just as well, though. He could spend more

time with Karen.

Sighing softly, he picked up his book, brushing off his skirt as

he stood. It was hot and he was thirsty. He strolled toward the

house and saw Jane talking on the telephone through the window in

her study. Maybe she would like a cold drink, too. He was

moving toward her study door when it crashed open. Jane was

frowning and looking very concerned about something. "Michelle,

Karen is on the phone for you and she sounds very upset. She

won't calm down long enough to tell me what is wrong."

Michael broke into as fast a run as he could manage in his calf

length skirt and heels. Snatching up the phone, he forgot

himself momentarily and used his Michelle voice. "Karen, what is

it?"

"Michael? Is that you?" Her voice was breaking on every

syllable and he could feel her misery.

Michael deepened his voice and replied, "Yes, luv, it is me. What

is wrong?"

"Oh god, Michael, Nana collapsed," racking sobs broke from the

girl and she struggled to regain control. Words came out in a

rush as she tried to talk faster than her tears. "and I could not

get her to wake up. I called 911 and they just took her away. I

begged and begged, but they wouldn't let me go with her. I am

too upset to drive. Michael... What if she DIES???"

Michael cut in with sharply commanding tone that brought Jane's

head up in surprise. She did not think he could speak that way.

"Karen. Where are you?"

"Home, Michael. I am home." came the weepy, near hysterical

reply.

"We will be there in fifteen minutes. Hang on, luv." Michael

hung up the phone and turned to Jane. "You heard?" She nodded.

The girl's voice had been loud enough to carry the short distance

to Jane. "Let's go. She needs me." He turned and headed

purposefully toward the door.

Jane caught up with him at the main entrance hall and put a

restraining hand on his shoulder. "Michelle.... MICHAEL!" He

turned to her, an impatient glare on his face. "Michael. Look

at yourself. You can't go dressed like that. You have to

change, first."

Michael looked at himself with a critical eye in the hall mirror

and shrugged. He ran up to his room and came down seconds later,

still outfitted as a girl, but carrying his matching purse. At

Jane's disbelieving splutter, he smiled grimly. "This will have

to do." as he headed again for the door.

Jane, however was still concerned for his security and well

being, and stopped him again. She saw his determination to go

to Karen. "Are you sure you can pull this off? In all

likelihood, we will be going to the hospital."

"I have to do it this way, Jane.. For two reasons. One, there

isn't time - Karen needs me and she needs me now."

Jane nodded, recognizing the depth of his feelings for this girl.

"And the other reason, Michelle?" She asked softly as they

hurried to the Lincoln.

"Nana only knows Michelle." He said softly. "She has never met

Michael and does not know that I exist as anyone other than her

granddaughter's special girl friend." Jane was floored and

wanted to ask a thousand questions, but Michael was already

buckling himself into the passenger seat of the car. Jane

promised herself that she would follow up on these revelations

after the crisis had passed.

The trip to Karen's house was passed mostly in silence. Not

because Jane wanted that way, but because as soon as they were on

the road, Michael pulled down the window visor lighted makeup

mirror and began repairing Michelle's face with cosmetics from

her purse. Once that was done (and done very well, from what Jane

could see out of the corner of her eye), Michael lapsed into a

sober meditative mood that she interpreted as his way of dealing

with the enormity this action. Never had one of her charges

willingly exposed himself to an outsider as a girl boy, before.

Jane felt a deep pride in her charge's willingness to make this

sacrifice for a friend.

Or was it a sacrifice? What had Michelle said? Nana only knew

Michelle? And Jane knew that Michael spent much of his free time

with Karen at the grandmother's house. The grandmother spoke

with a French accent. When Jane had called her to discuss

Michael's visits, she had thought nothing of the name the woman

saying "Michelle". Jane had thought she meant "Michel", the

French translation of Michael. The imp had been voluntarily

dressing outside her house. For Karen, obviously. No wonder he

had changed so much so fast.

Another thought struck her. Had the pair been sexually active?

She shook her head at the absurdity of that question. Michelle

had spent the night the night of that date sleeping over at

Karen's. Michelle had said that Nana only knew Michelle, so it

had been as a girl that her charge had spent the night. And

girls on a sleep over share the same room. Yes, they had been

sexually active and if Michael's male confidence was any

indication, they had done it quite well. It also explained why

Michael had not bridled at Karen's teasing about girl clothes at

Plymouth. Contraception? Lord, she hoped so.

They pulled into Nana's drive and a frantic Karen ran down to

meet them. Michelle jumped out of the car before it was fully

stopped and meet her halfway. Her ward pulled the distraught

girl into a comforting hug that was at once masculinely

protective and possessive, and femininely gentle and caring.

Michelle held her until she had calmed enough to talk to him a

bit and then the pair moved quickly to the still running car.

Both young people got into the back seat and Michelle told Jane

what hospital Nana had been taken to for treatment.

Michael rummaged in his purse and pulled out a hankie which he

gave to Karen. Shock showed on her face as she finally realized

how he was dressed. Dazed, she blurted, "Michael, you're

Michelle!"

Strangely, that broke the tension a little and both Jane and

Michelle laughed softly. "You don't know the half of it, Karen

dear." Jane said. That made Michelle smile again.

"True, Aunt Jane." He turned back to Karen. "Look, luv. There

is a lot you don't know, but I promise to tell you the whole of

it later, okay? For now, though, I think you and Nana need

Michelle more than you need Michael." Karen looked at the

beautifully feminine face that had become so fascinating to her

in the past weeks and saw the caring. Nodding, she cuddled

closer to her boy/girl friend and let herself be held in silence

for the remainder of the trip.

The hospital emergency room was what all hospital emergency rooms

are: semi-organized chaos. The two teens were completely

ignored by the busy medical staff and Jane saw that Karen was

about to dissolve into tears again and Michelle was about to

explode. She intervened to prevent both. Jane was not ignored

and in short order, the attending physician bustled up to tell

them what had happened. The news was positive. Karen's quick

action and the fast response of the EMT's had saved Nana. She

was weak, and she was in Intensive Care, but the doctor was

optimistic about her chances. Karen almost swooned in relief.

She would not be able to go home for a while, but she was awake

and alert.

The two youngsters sat down in the waiting room to wait for

permission to visit Nana. Jane sat across from them, letting

Michelle provide what comfort she could. It was then she noticed

the surreptitious glances Michelle was giving someone at the

admittance desk. Curious, she looked to see what was bothering

her. A nurse was pointedly staring at the pair and Michelle had

noticed. After closer inspection, she smiled. She knew that

nurse, and she knew why the woman was staring.

A month ago, perhaps even a week ago, she would have let Michelle

stew, worrying about the woman's marked interest in her.

However, Michelle had been behaving impeccably, and moreover, had

done something she felt merited a reward. Standing, she strolled

over to Michelle and sat beside her. She moved her lips to his

ear. "Relax, dear. She is staring because she knows me, not

because she has figured out you are not a real girl. She is a

friend who helps take care of my little girls when they get sick.

She knows what I do to my little boys and she is trying to figure

out if you or Karen or both of you are one of my petticoated

boys, but she is the soul of discretion. Just take it easy."

Michelle gave her a wobbly smile, took a deep breath and began to

relax.

An administrator came up and inquired about their connection with

Nana. When informed that Karen was her granddaughter and the

girl's guardian while her father remained overseas, he frowned.

"Well, your grandmother can't go home for several days at least.

I am afraid we will have to call Protective Services to come take

care of you." He walked away before anyone could say anything.

Karen went very still. "Oh god, what will they do with me?"

Then she realized what the options available to that agency and

nearly panicked. "No! Not a foster family. I can't take that on

top of all this. Being a stranger and alone. Why can't I just

stay home? I am seventeen. I can drive."

Michael tried to comfort her, pulling her even closer. He looked

at Jane, his artfully made up eyes becoming wide and beseeching.

"Aunt Jane, couldn't Karen stay with us?" His voice broke into a

sob of his own and he swallowed to regain his own composure.

"Please?"

"Well, they are calling Protective Services. That may take it

out of our hands." She stopped, considering how Michelle would

react. "I do have some contacts there. I might be able to work

something out if we catch them early enough."

Michelle smiled at her. "Please, Aunt Jane."

She nodded. "All right, Michelle. I will go make a phone call

and see what I can do. One thing, however." Her tone was sharply

commanding before she once again whispered into her charge's ear

so that Karen would not hear her words. "If we do this - if

Karen comes to live with us, even for a short while, it won't

change your situation around home, Michelle. Are you prepared to

be Michelle with her around?"

Michael smiled wanly at her. "As you have probably guessed, Aunt

Jane, I usually am Michelle with her, anyway. Now she will

merely learn why I am so good at being a girl." Jane smiled at

this, and after giving Michelle a kiss on the cheek, bustled off

to find a phone. She was determined to have Karen in her home.

Part 2: Autumn Colors and Other Surprises

Dear Barb, October 20

Things have changed greatly since my last letter to you, and as

you are still not available to me by phone, I have decided to

send you this note. Karen Austin, the girl I told you about, is

now living in my home with Michelle and me. I won't go into the

particulars, but three weeks ago, the girl's grandmother had a

heart attack and a stroke. Michelle asked me to take the girl in

and I did, bending some bureaucratic arms in the process.

Subsequently, it was determined that she would need full time

care in a nursing home and could not go back home to supervise

Karen. The woman is alert, just weak. One thing led to another

(your child is a steamroller when he really cares about

something, Barb), and Nana prevailed on the girl's father (who is

too important and too busy to come home and care for his mother

and daughter) to appoint me as Karen's guardian during the

grandmother's convalescence. Since a full recovery is unlikely,

although more likely than the father coming home, this means I

will remain Karen's guardian until she reaches her majority. You

might be surprised to hear that I don't mind a bit.

It turns out that Michael had already shared Michelle with this

young woman, and that Karen was even more instrumental in your

son's rapid improvement than I had first guessed. She now knows

everything, and although she was shocked (to say the least) to

find out how Michelle lives, she recovered quickly. Now she

functions as Michelle's big sister while he is home and

petticoated, and as his girl friend and confidant while they are

together outside the house. She agreed to this the night we

discussed making the guardianship arrangement permanent.

We did have one little blow up. She "tattled" on Michelle last

week. Seems Michelle had been less than politic in one of her

exchanges with her "big sister". An upset Karen decided to use

me to get back at Michelle. That was fine with me, because I had

one last little test I wanted to try on our little girl boy. I

told her that, since Karen's school was holding a Sadie Hawkins

Day Dance (Karen had already asked Michael), I wanted Michelle

(NOT Michael) to find a date so that she and her sister could

double date. Karen would still protect Michelle, but the little

dear would be in a muck sweat from then until he was safely

inside my door again after the dance. I even wondered aloud if

Michelle would get her first boy-girl kiss.

Karen's response was completely unexpected. She exploded. "He's

MINE!" she screamed at me. "Pants or skirts or whatever. I WON'T

be a party to that. I won't let HIM be a party to that." Well,

I was taken aback. But what really shocked me was Michelle. She

told Karen to calm down, that it was okay. Karen whirled

furiously on him, "What is this? Do you want to go out with a

boy?" Michael calmly told her that no, he did not. The only

person he wanted to go out with was her, but recalled that when I

had agreed to take her in, he had promised to obey me and to try

to trust me. He said he would do it, but would feel better if

she would go, too, so he would not be alone with a boy like that.

That stopped me. To my knowledge, that was the first time

Michelle had exhibited that type of faith in me.

Of course, I relented. She still got punished, but he went to

the dance as a boy - but with a new, salon styled, big hair

permanent and with frosted highlights. Sandy outdid herself this

time. Even there, Karen was one step ahead of me. She had a

straw farmer's hat for her hillbilly to wear over his frosted

curls.

For all that, I have little more to teach Michael. He is

everything I hoped he could become when I took on his case. I

will keep him in skirts a while longer, because I like him that

way. Selfish, I know, but Karen likes it, too, and what Karen

likes, pleases your son. He wouldn't mind much, even if he had a

choice in the matter.

What I propose is that you plan to spend Thanksgiving here. You

could have dinner with us, and see the lovely young woman your

daughter might have been. You will see the fine young man your

son has become. You might also want to take a look at the woman

I have every expectation will become your daughter in law. I

think a graduation party where Michelle gets her trousers back,

full time, would be nice. Of course, I will keep this a secret

from Michelle, although I may need to include Karen in on the

planning.

Please call me as soon as you have read this and my earlier

letter to you. Now, I must leave. The girls are going into town

to check out costumes for a Halloween Ball at the local country

club. I have decided to permit Michael to dress as he pleases.

The pair of them have been brainstorming ever since I told him

that. They seem determined to keep their plans a great secret -

especially from me. I will make sure I have fresh film in the

camera.

Sincerely yours

Jane

Jane frowned as she reread the letter she had just finished. She

had wanted to be far more blunt and order her school chum to

attend, but she hadn't. Good manners combined with her growing

fear that the problem might worsen helped her to hold her tongue.

She was becoming more and more fond of Michelle with each passing

day. One of the things she realized was that not once in

Michelle's sojourn in her home had Barb initiated any contact

with her about her son. Jane had made all the calls, written all

the letters. Not once had Barb even asked if she could speak to

her son. Of course, Jane had told her, early on in the project,

that she strongly recommended against such contact, except for

real emergencies. Still, most of her other boys' mothers had

conveniently forgotten that request at least one time during

their little darlings' sojourns under her supervision.

Frustrated, she readied the letter for posting. Her two charges

wanted to go into town looking for costume ideas. Then, a

thought struck Jane. If Michelle was going to the party as

Michael, why not let them make an outing of it, just the two of

them. It would let them connive in secret, and she could do some

more work on the planning for her next new charge. Not having a

resident big sister was going to make this one difficult.

Besides, Michelle had not driven since her arrival, and would

enjoy the treat. She would give them the good news at lunch.

It was a tossup who was more flabbergasted - Michael at Jane's

offer, or Jane at Michael's response.

"But, Jane, I had planned on going to town as Michelle, so I

can't drive. My license shows me as a male. I don't plan on

speeding," he hastened to add as her eyebrow shot up, "but it

would still be too big a risk in the event someone else caused an

accident."

"But, Michelle, I said you could go to the party as you wished.

I fully expected you would need to find a costume suitable to

your character's gender."

Michelle smiled softly. "Yes, Aunt Jane, but it is just that I

thought that, since I still had to stay in character here, I

would look for a costume that let me do that while not getting me

in trouble here for unfeminine behavior. I thought I would talk

to Sandy and Carolyn about how best to do that without ruining

all their efforts." Michelle paused, remembering another time

Jane had "permitted" him to dress as a male. "That is, if you

don't mind me seeking their assistance in this. I know last time

you told me I had to do the transforming all by myself."

Still off balance, Jane shook her head. "No... No, that's fine,

Michelle. That was to serve a purpose. This is in the way of a

real reward for real effort. In fact, I will call Carolyn right

after lunch and tell her to go along with whatever you ask. I

will also tell you that whatever they do can be undone after the

party if that is what it ultimately takes for you to pull off

whatever it is you have in mind. You have earned this, Michelle.

I really am quite proud of you."

Michelle went completely still. Surprise, then pleasure, and

finally pride flashed across her face. Karen simply sat there,

beaming at her sister/boy friend. Suddenly, Michelle stood up.

"Please excuse me, Aunt Jane" he blurted out in a choking voice,

and then ran from the room. Jane rose, intending to follow, but

Karen stopped her.

"She'll be okay, Jane. Let her be. He is just so happy, and for

all your efforts, Michael is still learning to cope with the

softer feelings you have introduced him to. He is embarrassed

that his joy reduced him to tears in front of you. He'll be back

when he has regained control and repaired his face. You should

be pleased. He is becoming quite the lady."

Jane looked at Karen with a sardonically raised brow. "Oh?

Perhaps, too much the lady, Karen?" Jane was aware that her

charges were still intimate. And had been concerned about

repercussions until she had ascertained that Karen and Michael

were being careful to use contraception after that first night

together.

Karen gave her guardian a thoroughly female look of pure

pleasure. "No, Jane, Michael is all man when it counts - just

more caring and sensitive than other boys of my experience." The

pair shared a look of smug satisfaction.

Michelle returned apologetically to the table, but Jane waved

them off, hiding her own emotions under a facade of firmness.

"Now, since Michelle can't drive, I will give Karen the keys to

the Lincoln. It has more space than her little car, and you

might find something today and need the room. Now go get ready.

Go on, shoo!"

Both teens laughed and jumped to their feet to leave, but

Michelle had one more shock for Jane this day. Before leaving

the room, she shyly came over and kissed Jane on the cheek.

"Thank you, Aunt Jane." she whispered, before once again rushing

headlong out the room, leaving a thoroughly bemused Jane behind.

Karen drove the big car with more caution than she normally used

with her zippy little Honda. Once they were on the road towards

Kingston, she relaxed enough to talk. "You okay with this trip?

I know that this has not been a fun place for you. Seems like all

of Jane's feminizer cronies are in that town. They may not be

able to resist taking a piece out of you."

Michelle nodded. "It will be okay. I have learned a lot lately.

Mostly, they just want to play with me. When I give as good as I

get, they just have fun. Besides, they have more to lose than I

do. This is area is pretty conservative. Their businesses could

suffer badly if it became known what they were doing with Jane."

Karen nodded at the insight. "You don't mind going dressed? I

mean, this was a perfect opportunity to be a guy, again. Jane

even gave you the go ahead for Carolyn and Sandra to put you back

together after the ball. You could have spent a whole week

looking like your studly self instead of living in skirts."

"Naw. Besides, are you going to leave me?"

The large car swerved violently as Karen jerked the steering

wheel in surprised shock. "Hell, no! I told her and I will tell

you, Michael Nash. You are mine! The formalities are just that

- mere formalities. You are mine and I am yours. You are stuck

with me, Miss or Mister. End of statement."

Pleased by her response, Michael chuckled. "I love you, too,

darling. So, getting out of skirts is not an issue with me,

anymore. You like them. I expect I will be wearing them on and

off the rest of my life because pleasing you is a big priority in

my life." His voice trailed off. Karen urged him on, asking him

to finish the thought. He visibly steeled himself and after

taking a deep breath, whispered. "And I like them, too."

"Oh, Michelle, I am so glad. Really I am. I was worried that

once Jane signs off on your return to that damned school, I would

never have my girl friend back again. And if you had done it for

me like it was some damned sacrifice, I would have known, and I

would have hated it."

Unlike Michelle who was fashionably turned out in skirt and

blazer set, Karen was wearing her beloved jeans. The jeans had

been a minor bone of contention when Karen had moved in - Michael

had asked to wear them, but Jane had refused. "Karen already

knows how and when to be a lady, Michelle. You are still

learning. Of course, to be fair, I could ask Karen to refrain

from wearing them until you are advanced enough that I will

permit you such liberties..." Michael had not liked that idea at

all. First, because Karen loved wearing her jeans, and he would

not want her deprived because of him. Secondly, she looked

awfully sexy in those skin tight denims and he would not want

himself deprived of that pleasure, either.

So, Jane had relented, and Karen continued to wear her jeans for

both their pleasure. Jane, being Jane, was unable to resist a

few stinging jabs about "who wore the pants in this

relationship..", but as long as Karen was happy and looking so

sexy, Michael was able to handle those with grace and a smile.

What he did not realize was that it was precisely that comfort

with her games that Jane had been looking for, and had now found.

Michelle reached across the seat to gently squeeze the denimed

thigh, and then rested his hand there. They rode like that most

of the way, until the outer limits of Kingston and the university

campus came in view. At a stop light, Karen saw Michael staring

wistfully at the sign proclaiming pre-registration for the spring

term. He merely shook his head when she asked if something was

the matter.

They drove toward the business square where Marisha Chalet sat,

and Karen carefully parked the car. She shutdown the engine, and

turned to face her lover. "You want to go through with this? It

could really destroy her, you know."

"Hey, it was your idea, remember? You said it was the right

thing to do, that it would bring closure. Now you are getting

cold feet? For all my little bravado back there on the road,

Sandy scares the hell out me. She has been a lot easier on me

since August, but she knows just how to get to me, and she loves

doing it. She has a way of getting me so turned on that I get

rock hard, and then she cuts me to ribbons with it."

Karen took his hand. "Don't worry about it, sweet. Anything she

makes rock hard, I can help make nicely pliable again, and I

promise you'll love it." Her voice was a husky whisper that

grabbed him by the groin and twisted sensuously. "Seriously, we

could do something else and still get the effect you want."

Michelle considered that carefully. It was tempting. Finally,

he shook his head. "No, this is the right way. She has to see

me as I am, now. Not as she chooses to see me in her mind. We

can't get over the past until she does."

Karen smiled. That was the answer she'd wanted, but she'd needed

to know he understood, too. "Okay, let's go. I saw Caro at the

window looking at us. She must think that Jane is having to drag

you in, again. Sandy must be getting out the frosting kit

again." she said with a smirk.

The patrons of the shop only noted how lovely the two young women

who entered the shop were. Carolyn and Sandra came up to greet

them and then ushered them into the back room. Sandy spoke

first. "Well, Jane called." she said with a dejected tone in her

voice. "She told us this was your show, Michael. What do you

want us to do?" She looked very sad and Michael wondered why.

Carolyn spoke. "We know that you are going to the Ball and that

Jane said you could pick your own costume. Tell us what you have

in mind and we will see what we can do. Frankly, you have become

so facile an actress, you could pull off anything."

Michael glanced at Karen, who nodded back. He reached into the

oversize shoulder bag he carried and withdrew an 8x10 manilla

envelope from it. "Before we go further, you should know that

our plans are secret, especially from Jane. If you can't agree

to that, we will do something else - try another salon."

Determination colored his voice. Both women looked at him in

disbelief. He would go to another salon, chancing discovery?

Finally, Carolyn spoke. "We already knew that, Michael. Jane

told us and asked that we keep your confidence. We promised her

and we promise you that, too. Don't we, Sandy?" The other woman

nodded.

"Okay, look at this." He pulled a photo from the envelope and

laid it on the table. It was a promotional picture from a famous

historical movie. "We saw this and the similarity of our facial

structures to these people. And I remembered the outfits you got

for Beth and me for that parade float. Now, this is what we want

to do...."

The planning took the better part of the afternoon, what with

Carolyn and Sandy having to leave periodically to work on their

customers. Gradually, both women got into the spirit of the

enterprise and all but took over from the two excited teenagers.

Finally, Sandy was toting up what to have as they reviewed their

lists one last time. "...... cosmetics, hair dye, spirit gum."

she concluded. "Okay, I think that does it. While I was out on

the floor the last time, I called the costume shop around the

corner and told them to expect you soon. Michael, that shop is

not, to my knowledge, party to Jane's activities, so be careful

while you are being fitted. It might be wise to have Karen

assist you instead of their people while you are changing into

your costume for fitting and alteration. Oh! I almost forgot."

She ran to a nearby closet and returned with a familiar box.

"Here, you might need this." Michael took the box and thanked

her.

Carolyn smiled. "Thank you, Michael" she said emphasizing the

'you', "for letting us be a part of this. I know we made your

life hell, but that was part of the plan. I'd like to think we

have become less your enemies, now, and more like friends."

Michael stood and gave each woman a demure kiss on the cheek.

"Not like friends, Carolyn. You are friends. It just took me

awhile to figure out that not all friendships start out friendly.

Now, I have to go or the shop will close."

"Michael? If you and Karen would like, I could visit the

afternoon of the party. Help you both get ready. That dye can

be messy, even if it does wash out with the special solvent

soap."

"If you don't mind, Caro, I think that would be wonderful."

"Miiiiii-chaeeell" Karen wheedled. "Could we go? I am tired

and hungry and those fittings will take an hour at least.

Especially mine! I am gonna get turned into a human pin cushion.

I just know it."

They got home around nine pm to find that Marie had kept supper

warm for their return. Jane insisted they take dinner in the

study with her on trays as she quizzed them on their day.

Michael was mischievously evasive on the subject of where they

went and what they bought. "Oh, but I will tell you that Caro

promised to come over Saturday afternoon and personally handle my

makeover."

Karen swatted him with a lace throw pillow. "Hey, don't forget

about me. She promised she would do my make up, too."

Michael put on Michelle's cattiest look, and said sweetly. "Oh,

dear, that's right. Well, maybe you should call her, Auntie

Jane, and see if she could be here by nine am, instead." Both

women fell on him with pillows then, and Jane's formal, Victorian

study became a slapstick comedy of screeching laughter,

petticoats and pillow feathers. Michael could not remember

having a better evening in Jane's house.

The sealed garment boxes with the costumes arrived the Thursday

before the party. Michelle and Karen locked themselves away in

Karen's room (Jane permitted Karen the privacy of a locked door

that she still chose to deny Michael), and tried on their

costumes. The alterations were perfect, thus saving the teens

from having to ask Marie's help or worse, from trying to fix the

clothes themselves.

Caro arrived in time for luncheon on Saturday. After the meal,

the three conspirators adjourned to Karen's room for the grand

transformation. By tacit agreement, both Marie and Jane avoided

the upstairs that afternoon, afraid they would peek if they had

the chance.

At five thirty, Carolyn found Jane and told her that they were

ready for the unveiling. Jane and Marie hurried to the parlor,

both carrying cameras to record the event. Carolyn returned and

took her place on the settee beside Jane. From outside the

parlor, Michael's voice, a much deeper voice than Jane was used

to hearing called. "Ready in there?"

Jane responded tartly. "I was ready two hours ago. Now get in

here."

Karen's soft laugh followed. Moments later, Rhett Butler

escorted Scarlet O'Hara across the threshold of the room.

Scarlet was in a classic reproduction of the famous movie ball

gown, its de'collete' bodice showing an expanse of creamy cleavage.

Her hair had been darkened with dye and hung in sausage curls

around her head. Opera length satin gloves covered her arms, and

on her left cheek, beneath her twinkling eye, was a black beauty

patch. With one hand in Rhett's, and the other holding her heavy

skirt, Scarlet curtseyed low to her royal audience.

Rhett was in black evening wear, complete with tails and a cane.

His hair had also been dyed black, while his skin had been

artfully darkened and coarsened by Caro's cosmetic artistry. His

brows, and upper lip were covered by hair that had not been there

at lunch. False brows and mustache, to be sure, but it was a

very, very good job. His hands were covered by formal white

gloves and gleaming boots adorned his feet. Bowing low to the

women, he 'made his leg' with the grace of a Regency Corinthian.

"My God, Caro.... it is like they stepped off the movie screen

into my house." She looked more closely at the boy she had

worked so hard to make into a girl, and shook her head in

confusion. Scarlet giggled, and Jane's head came up in shock.

"Now, you blew it." was Karen's disgusted comment. "We would

have made it out of here without her knowing if you could have

kept your mouth shut."

"Naow, Rhett-dawlin'," said Scarlet in a terrible Southern accent

and in Michael's voice, "Ya'll know I was gonna tell her lil' ol'

self befo' we left, anyway."

Jane could not seem to get her mouth to work - it just hung open.

Caro was having spasms, trying to keep from laughing out loud.

Marie was stunned. Finally, Jane choked out, "Michael? I mean,

Michelle, is that you?"

Michael came over to kneel in front of Jane in a swirl of silks

and satin. "Yes, Jane." came the soft, incongruously male voice

in reply. "It is me."

"But, why? You could have been anyone - anything. Why a

female?"

Michael's answering smile was beautiful to see. "Because, dear

Jane, this *is* me, now. Or at least, a part of me. You see,

two ladies that I have come to care about, like this in me. More

importantly, I have come to like it, too. I am still a man,.."

he stopped to consider that and shook his head, sending the

sausage curls bouncing saucily about his face, "No, I am more of

a man, because none of this..." and he swept a hand over the

female finery, "threatens me anymore. It is part of me, and I

have come to like me quite a bit in the past weeks. I wanted you

to know that, Jane." With a muffled "oh, god", Jane wrapped her

arms around her charge and clung tightly, tears rolling down her

cheeks. Then, she jumped to her feet and ran from the room.

Michael made to follow her, but Marie stopped him. She was also

crying, but smiling. "I will see to her, Michael. She will be

fine. You and your young lady just go and have fun."

Caro repaired the damage to everyone's makeup, and then took

pictures with both forgotten cameras. Finally, she ushered them

out the door, and went to find Jane. She thought a good drunk

and a happy crying jag were definitely in order. Jane had to

have some good bubbly in this house somewhere. She would just

have to find it.

No one got up for breakfast the next day. Michelle, seeing the

problem, mixed up a "hair of the dog" favored by one of his

mother's consorts, and served tall frosty restoratives to each

hangover victim. A few hours later, when hunger set in, Michelle

made omelets and muffins to fill empty stomachs. When his own

(the last, naturally) was done and he came to sit at the table,

Karen was regaling the women with a recount of their exploits.

"You remember Page, don't you, Jane? The boy who made Michael's

life hell at the play? He was there as a pirate, and he was so

enamored of little Miss Scarlet. He even prevailed on her to

dance. God, I was afraid he would drool the makeup off the fake

boobs Sandy gave her. Strange thing, though, his pants fell

down, and he wasn't wearing any undies. He was quite the

spectacle, hopping off the dance floor, trying to hold up his

pants with one hand, and keep his dickie covered with the other."

Karen looked up to Michael as he set his plate down and settled

into his chair. "However did that happen, Michelle, dear?" she

asked in the sweetest, most innocent of tones.

Michelle gave an entirely unladylike snort. "He should not have

been carrying a real knife on that stupid belt of his. Knives

are dangerous." was all Michael had to say for the ladies to howl

with mirth. With a satisfied smile, Michael continued, "My only

regret is that he went home afterwards and missed the unmasking.

Karen and I won first prize for best costume by a couple. I

would have loved to see his face when he realized that he had

been hitting on a guy. I do hope someone tells him." Then a

thought struck Michael and he looked slyly at Jane. "Aunt Jane?

There isn't any chance that Page has gotten in trouble around

here? You know, you might talk to his mom, offer to help her

with him a little..."

Jane spluttered. "Oh, no. None of that. I don't take students

from the immediate area. They are too likely to be recognized,

no matter how well I do my job. Besides, his father is an

arrogant paternalistic idiot and he would never agree, more's the

pity."

"Too bad. I would even stay on past Christmas to help with that

scene, and I would not feel a whit of guilt about it like Beth

did with me."

The offhanded reminder of his approaching departure cast a pall

on the impromptu brunch and it broke up shortly thereafter. Caro

had to leave for home, Jane went to her study, closing the door

and Marie gathered the dishes to clean. The two young people

decided to go for a walk.

Things settled back into the familiar routine for Jane's

household. Studies and school consumed much of Michael's and

Karen's time. Both took the College board exams the week after

the ball. Michael went back the next week for further testing,

saying only that he was working on several options when it came

to college and that the tests were a part of that.

About two weeks before Thanksgiving, Karen heard shouting coming

from Jane's study. Concerned that her lover had gotten in

trouble again with her mercurial guardian, she peaked in through

the open door in time to see Jane slamming her antique phone down

onto its cradle. "DAMN that woman! HOW can she DO that to him?"

Jane put her head down on her desk, looking utterly desolate.

Karen crept in, and put her hand on Jane's head. "Jane? What is

the matter?" When Jane mumbled that it was nothing, Karen

disagreed. "No, I have never seen you upset over 'nothing' and

you are upset. Now give."

"Oh, it is nothing, really. Nothing I can fix, anyway. That was

Barbara - Michelle's mother. She was answering my last two

letters." Jane went on to explain her plan for a surprise

graduation party for Michael. "She just called to tell me she

was going on another vacation with her newest new boyfriend.

Seems they will be making a holiday tour of the Caribbean. They

leave tomorrow and won't be back until after New Year's. As to

Michael's future at St. A's, I am to "do what ever you think

best, darling. You seem to do so much better with him than I

do." Damned woman. To do anything you first have to try enough

to care and care enough to try. When I think of the waste of a

fine human being she almost caused with that type of neglect, I

want to do bodily damage to her."

Karen moved behind Jane, massaging the stress out of her

shoulders. "Well, you care, Jane, and so do I. Matter of fact,

there are a lot of folks here who care about our Michael-Michelle, so

that is all that matters. If she does not know what

she has in him, it is her loss and our gain." she kept on

stroking. "He is special to you, too. Isn't he, Jane."

Jane had long since ceased being amazed at this girl's empathy

and grasp of human feelings. She merely nodded. "Yes, he is. I

have never had a bond with one of my pupils like this before. It

is almost as if he was my own. As if he were my son." She

laughed a harsh, derisive laugh. "Funny, isn't it. I love him

like a son, and I haven't figured out how to show it."

"He knows, Jane. No boy I know does what he did for you at

Halloween without loving the person he is doing it for. He knew

it could have backfired on him at the party, big time, and he

still went through with it because you had given him the choice."

Karen became silent. "You know, we really don't need his mother.

I think your whole circle of friends would love to give Michelle

a proper sendoff. What do you think of this idea..." And with

that, the two women began to plan.

Part 3: Restorations and Revelations

The quiet was eerie. It was a little after eight on the Sunday

morning after Thanksgiving, and Jane was completely alone in the

house. Marie had left Wednesday to spend the holiday with family

in Boston. She would return shortly to help with the final party

preparations. Karen and Michelle had gone to Providence for the

morning. That was part of the plan she and Jane had hatched to

get Michelle out of the house long enough to finish the final

touches for the day's festivities.

Karen had asked Michelle to go to Church with her for the

celebration of the first Sunday of the Christmas Advent

Festivities. Michelle had initially been reticent, not wanting

to go into Church "wearing a lie". Jane had held back during the

exchange, knowing she could have easily have forced his

acquiescence, but not wanting to. Fortunately, Karen was well in

command of the situation, as she had seemed to have been with so

many others. "Is it a lie, Michelle, dear? Really?" Michelle

seemed to waiver, and Karen had moved in. "It is not like you

are going to take the veil, luv. You are just going to sit in

the pew, listening to beautiful music, looking lovely."

Michelle had blushed beautifully, and finally had given in. So

early this morning, the pair had dressed in their new holiday

finery, and headed off to Providence in Karen's Honda.

Jane could not really remember the last time the house had seemed

this empty - probably because since she had purchased it, the

house had not been empty. She had taken on her first

petticoating project within mere weeks of moving in, and had

always had at least one skirted boy underfoot since. And now,

she was losing this one without a sure replacement in hand. The

mother of the boy she was to take on was uncertain she wanted to

inflict Jane's "torments" (the Mother's words) on her

misunderstood son. If that one fell through, as had the last,

Jane would have only Karen once Michael headed back to St. A's.

Of course, that was not insignificant. Karen had become very

important to Jane in the short time they had been together. Jane

had all but forgotten the simple pleasures of sharing things with

another true female. As competent as her sissy-boys became at

acting like young women, and as much as many of them came to

enjoy their feminized states, Karen shared things with Jane that

her boys could not. Case in point was the shopping trip they had

taken to buy the clothes she and Michelle had worn today. It had

been fun, and in an entirely different way than when she went

shopping with her "girls". When Jane took the boys shopping, she

enjoyed their fear of being unmasked, and the little humiliations

her friends heaped on their curly heads. But there was that

slight chance that something might go wrong, that the boy might

be uncovered by someone who was not in on the conspiracy. So

Jane had to be constantly alert in those situations and that

detracted from her pleasure in the activities.

With Karen, there had been none of that tension. She had

actually been able to enjoy the experience of shopping. She had

been able to enjoy and share Karen's pleasure in finding pretty

things for herself and for Michelle. It had been...... nice.

The real problem, Jane was forced to admit, was that she was

already missing Michelle. She had never before let a boy stay

after his rehabilitation was complete. They left her immediately

to get on with their lives. She was usually a little sad to see

them go, and missed them for awhile, but was soon diverted by the

next little test or task she had planned for her latest "girl".

This was very different.

"You might as well admit it, Jane Thompson." she spoke angrily

into the silent room. "You admitted to Karen that you loved

Michael Nash as the son you never had, but the real truth is that

you love him best as Michelle. And you have no right to keep

Michelle at Michael's expense anymore." She savagely swiped at

the tears that had welled up in her eyes, infuriated with herself

that she could not be happy for Michael's sake that today .....

that today was his last day in skirts.

Well, probably not his last day. Karen liked Michelle, too, and

Michael had as much as told her that he accepted Michelle when he

had elected to be Scarlet instead of Rhett. But she would no

longer see Michelle every day, nor, in fact, should she. Michael

would need the next month to reestablish enough of his male

mannerisms to survive the last term at St. Andrews.

The door bell's ring broke her reveries. That must be the first

of the guests, arriving to help with the final party setups.

Good. Jane was tired of feeling alone and lonely.

The Honda pulled onto the estate around two pm. Much to Jane's

amazement, everything was ready. The two young people entered to

the foyer smiling, and looking to see where Jane might be. Jane

opened the door to her study, a stern look on her face. Sharply,

she ordered. "Michelle? I want to see you in my study. NOW,

young lady, this very INSTANT!"

Michael's face fell dramatically. What HAD he done? He had

tried so hard the past few weeks - not on the feminine things,

but to show Jane how much he had come to care for and about her;

to show that he actually loved her. He had even permitted

himself to believe that she cared for him, too. Now he must have

done something to upset her, but he could not imagine what it

was. Would this mean she would have to delay his planned

departure for St. A's?

Jane turned and reentered the study, her back stiff and straight.

It was the way she had been those first, horrible weeks. Sighing

inwardly, Michael turned to follow her, consciously thinking

about his presentation for the first time in weeks. He did not

realize that Karen was following close behind him until her white

gloved hands came up to cover his eyes just before he reached the

study threshold. Michael faltered with the loss of vision, but

Karen prodded him on into the room before he could stop or free

his eyes.

"SUUURRRRPPPRRIIIIZZZEEE!" The combined yell of several female

voices caused the blinded boy to jump backwards into Karen,

almost tripping them. Karen's hands came away as she struggled

to catch them both. Once he regained balance, stupefied wonder

rendered him speechless and motionless. The study looked like a

New Year's Eve Party gone wild. Brightly colored pink and blue

crepe paper festooned the room and a banner that proclaimed

"Congratulations, Michelle - Welcome Back, Michael" hung proudly

on the wall behind Jane's desk.

Then Michael took in who was there. Everyone who had had a hand

in his journey of self discovery. Carolyn and Sandra, Miss

Franson from the dress shop and Mrs. Bedford, the nurse whose

stares had unnerved him at the hospital - they were all there.

And of course, in the center and out in front of everyone else,

was Jane and Marie. Then, a hand tapped his shoulder and he

turned to see "David?" the name was a whisper. "David, is that

you?"

The fondly remembered gentle smile curved the lips of the young

man in front of him. He was turned out in a finely made,

charcoal gray suit. Michael did not know what else to do, but

hug his friend. "God, I am glad to see you. I have missed you.

Karen, come and meet David.."

"Ahem" That single syllable stopped him cold. He turned toward

Jane who was looking at him with a cocked brow and a sardonic

smile. "I believe I told you, young lady, that *I* wanted to see

you."

Smiling now himself, Michael went to stand in front of Jane, and

then curtseyed deeply as he had the night of the Halloween Ball.

Jane pulled him into a tight hug. She pulled back, and ordered

"All right, everyone sing, please..."

The women and David started to sing, "For he's a jolly good

fellow..."

Sandy put her fingers to her mouth and blew a shrill whistle,

shocking everyone to silence. They turned to her in amazement.

She grinned. "Can't sing that, Jane. Not yet, anyway." She

pointed to a chair that had been covered with a bed sheet. A

table, covered with combs, scissors and a myriad of bottles,

stood beside it.

Jane nodded, smiling mischievously. "Quite right, Sandra.

Michelle, please sit in that chair." What followed was a

complete demolition of what had taken Michael an hour that

morning and over six months of learning to accomplish. Sandra

moved behind the chair and started to dampen his hair with

another foul smelling concoction. Carolyn stood in front of him

and began working on his face. Marie and Miss Franson took a

position on each side of the chair and began working on his hands

and nails. It took over an hour, but finally, the ladies stepped

back. Michael wanted to see what had been done, but the room's

mirror was covered in crepe. Jane stepped up to him. "Michael,

please go to your room and put on the clothing Marie has laid out

for you."

Completely ill-at-ease now, Michael slowly left the study and

went up to his room. He thought he knew what to expect, but he

was wrong. The changes in his femininely appointed room shocked

him. It wasn't feminine anymore; it was a young man's room. The

light pastel blues of the walls and moldings were still there,

but every accessory had been replaced by ones more suitable to a

boy's room. Every female touch, every feminine touch of lace and

bit of whimsy had been ruthlessly eradicated. The bed's canopy

had been removed; a brightly colored hunting lodge quilt replaced

the satin bedspread. The tiered fabrics that had upholstered the

various pieces of furniture had been replaced with pieces that

matched the quilt. Had he felt this disoriented when he had

first seen the room in its girl's room decor?

New cotton briefs, socks, a dress shirt and tie, and a shoe box

sat on the foot of his bed. On his dressing table, no longer a

vanity, was a man's jewelry box opened to display, a new

wristwatch, new tie clasps and cuff links. The sink counter in

his bathroom now contained a variety of aftershaves, men's

colognes and other male toiletries. Opening his armoire, he saw

that all of his dresses and other things were gone - replaced by

several new suits and sports jackets. One was already laid out

for him. He changed from the skin out, still careful to properly

tend to his lingerie and dress. A near hysterical bark of

laughter broke through his confusion when he started to button

• this* shirt from the wrong side. Deja vu all over again.

Was that first blouse *really* that long ago? Another lifetime,

or perhaps another age.

Only after he had finished, did he let himself look in the three

sided mirror where he had practiced so many new and discomforting

mannerisms. Nervously, he kept his eyes lowered as he turned to

face himself. As he should have expected from Jane, the suit fit

him perfectly. Michael took several deep, cleansing breaths

before he could lift his eyes to view his head and face. For

several heartbeats, he could only stare in stunned wonder at his

own reflection. Michael had thought about this moment ever since

that last meeting with David in the garden, wondering how he

could ever be "normal" again. He wasn't "normal"; he was better.

A mature young man calmly returned his hesitant gaze. His hair

was no longer curly, or even highlighted. It was longer, fuller

than before, but not unusually so. Even the color was back to

what it had been when he used to be a boy. "Used to be a boy?"

he asked himself. "Where the hell did *that* come from?" No

answer was forthcoming. Why, even his brows looked less fine,

less arched. Carolyn must have added some subtle coloring to

make them look fuller.

Finally, he couldn't delay any longer, so he left the room and

headed back down to the party. As he entered, a rousing chorus

of "Now he's a jolly good fellow" marked his return. The loud

emphasis on the added word "NOW" in the traditional song broke

his mood and made him smile for the first time since Jane had

ordered him to the study. The party turned into a lovely, loving

memory he would hug to his heart for the rest of his life. The

food was marvelous, and the company even better. Each woman made

a point of speaking to him alone, praising him on how far he had

come, and how much they had enjoyed him. "Especially after you

finally wised up." was Sandy's semi-caustic aside. "Although,"

she continued thoughtfully, "You were sure fun to tease early on.

I thought you would come out of the chair a couple of times."

"A couple of times, Sandy? Try a hundred times. Your comments

on my masculinity or rather, my lack of it, almost demoralized

me."

Sandra smiled at him. "Ah, honey, all Jane's boys get like

that." she said with a gentleness he had not expected from her.

"Just too full of hormones for anything else - not with a bold,

sexy female like me challenging everything you think you are."

she gave him a salacious leer right out of a grade B movie, and

they laughed easily together. "Besides," she continued, warming

to her subject, "Wearing nice lingerie, being pampered, getting

all dolled up - all that stuff is sexy. It is sexy on women,

and it is sexy on men. It is just plain sexy, hon. Your body,

especially your penis, knew that even if your mind was fighting

it. I just used that fact to dig into your head a little

deeper." Then her sly smile became a sexy challenge. "And don't

think I have forgotten how .. umm," she licked her lips

salaciously, "How well built you are down there, stud. Come back

some time when Jane isn't going to have my ass for it and I will

keep that promise to put that thing between your legs to good

use." With that bomb, she kissed him hard on the lips and

sauntered off, hips swinging.

Karen came storming over to him, green fire flashing in her eyes.

"And just was that all about?".

"I don't know," Michael said. "I am not sure if it was a promise

or a threat." Then he hugged her and gave her a kiss. "Thank

you, luv. I would not be here like this without you. In the

end, you were my turning point."

The party broke up at about six pm. The women had to work the

next day, and David had to catch a train to be back in time for

school. Hugs and kisses were exchanged, and surprisingly, each

of the women had a special gift for Michael, but he did not have

time to open them before they left. Nor did it seem that they

seemed to want him to, either. It was all very strange to his

mind. Well, he would remember his manners and send a nice thank

you to each of his new friends.

"Michael?" Jane called to him. It seemed odd answering her when

she used that name, now. "Would you drive David to the train

station? I have added you to my insurance policy, and now, your

license will work." she added with a teasing grin. Thanking her,

Michael led his friend to the car for a long drive and a talk.

It was the perfect ending to the day.

The gifts were stacked on his bed when he returned. With mixed

emotion, Michael saw that his last dress, as well as the lingerie

and accessories, had been removed from the room while he was gone

as well. Shrugging against feelings he did not want to analyze

at that moment, Michael opened his gifts. He should have known.

Smiling to himself, he wondered if Jane had known about the

gifts.

Michael was early for breakfast. He had forgotten how much

simpler his morning ablutions were as a male, particularly if he

was not trying to maintain a double life - boy in the morning,

girl in the afternoon - as he had for the play. Jane was already

downstairs, too, sitting in her usual place at the head of the

table, drinking coffee. A pile of papers and other documents

were on the table beside her. She looked up at him, frowned

slightly, then forced a smile to her face. "Good morning,

Michael. Did you sleep well?" Actually, he hadn't. The room

felt alien to him and he had been restless, but he smiled and

answered that he had. The oddly strained smile Jane gave him did

not reach her eyes. "Good. These are for you." She slid the

pile of paper toward him. "There are your checkbook, your credit

cards and the report of your trust fund accounts for the period

you have been with me. My brokers have taken over the management

of your accounts, and you will find detailed reports of their

activities. I think they have done quite well, but of course,

you are welcome to discuss their performance with them, or to

change to someone of your own choosing."

Michael took the papers and set them aside. "I am sure that

everything is fine, Aunt Jane. I will look at them later.

Perhaps you could help me with going through them? Mother never

has, and I have no idea what any of this means."

His simple statement and request for help almost destroyed her.

She still did not really believe Karen's assurances that Michael

trusted and cared for her. Maybe he did, after all, at least

trust her a little, to ask her help with his finances. "Of

course," she said with a calm she did not feel. "This afternoon,

perhaps?"

"At your convenience, Aunt Jane." At that moment, Karen came into

the room, stopping a moment to stare at Michael in his slacks and

polo shirt, before recovering enough to chirp a cheerful good

morning.

For all the apparant good feeling shared among the threesome over

the next few hours, Michael felt an undercurrent of tension

swirling around him. Every time he saw Jane looking at him when

she thought he did not see her, there seemed to be almost an aura

of melancholy about her. If she saw him looking at him, the same

plastic smile came. Conversation between them was strained, and

the easy banter that had developed over the past few weeks was

nonexistent. Only in her study, when she patiently explained

each financial document to him, did she seem comfortable with

him. Was that because she had fallen into her "School Mistress"

role again, and he had become "the student", and as such, someone

she could relate to better than she could a freed "Michael Nash"?

Lunch was difficult, with Karen trying, with little success, to

involve both Michael and Jane in normal conversation. Finally,

at dinner, Michael concluded he understood the problem. Did he

want to solve the problem was the question. For Jane and for

Karen: the answer was yes. For himself? Insight flared, and he

understood that he could not be happy with Jane unhappy. She had

simply become too important to him as a person. And, in all

honesty, it was his choice this time. That made a difference

somehow. He glanced at Karen, cocking a brow as he had seen Jane

do so often when she was about to set a fox in his personal

chicken coupe. She seemed to understand and smiling at him,

nodded slightly. "Aunt Jane, I forgot something important. May I

please be excused for a few moments?" Jane jumped at the sound of

his voice in the silence that had descended on the dining room,

but nodded and gave him leave to go. Michael hurried up the

stairs, and after a quick stop in Karen's room, he went to his

own. Inside, he pulled out the gifts he had received the day

before from each of Jane's circle.

Michael reentered dining room about fifteen minutes after

departing. Jane glanced up from her soup, ready to order him to

his seat before the soup was inedibly cold. She did a classic,

thoroughly satisfying double take before dropping her spoon

noisily into the dish in surprise. Michelle was back. Michael

had borrowed the outfit, including the flats, that he had worn

that first time for Karen after the play. On his head was a

softly curling blond wig, that Sandy's note had said was made to

match his most attractive styling and color. Miss Franson had

given him a complete set of lingerie and hose. Caro's

contribution was a set of cosmetics designed to match Sandy's

hairpiece and his skin, and Mrs Bedford had given him a set of

costume jewelry (earrings, pendent and a bracelet) and a set of

press on nails in a suitable color of light pink for everyday

wear. "M...mm... Michael?" Jane spluttered out. "But.. But.."

"No, Jane. Michelle." he walked over to Jane and taking her

hand, drew her out of her seat, into a hug. "We have come too

far, I think, for either of us to be comfortable with Michael.

Not this abruptly. Maybe, not in this house, ever. I don't

know, but I also don't much care. I do care about you. Let me

give you this gift, Jane."

"But you need to remember how to be male! Next month..."

"Next month will be fine. I will do my practicing outside of the

house. Karen will help. At home, I will continue as before."

Home? He had said "home". "But Michael... I mean, Michelle, you

hated this."

"Hated, Jane. Past tense. You did your work well. I can, as

you once told me I would have to, tell you that I honestly enjoy

the masquerade. And I have come to love you. So, let me be what

you love best in me, for you and me. Okay?"

Jane broke down into racking sobs. Michael, although versed in

things feminine, still suffered the male's genetic impotence in

the face of a woman's tears. He held her close, casting pleading

glances to Karen to come help. Karen merely shook her head,

grinning like a loon through her own happy tears.

Jane finally calmed down and wiped her eyes with the napkin

Michael handed her. "I won't hold you to it, you know."

"I know, Aunt Jane. It was and is my choice, but I think it is

the right one for all of us." Then he whispered in Jane's ear.

"Besides, Karen really likes Michelle. Makes her horny."

Jane sputtered a choked laugh and looked back and forth between

the two young people. "Okay," she finally grinned herself. She

made an attempt to regain her composure and dignity after her

outburst. Why, she is embarrassed, thought Michael. I wonder if

she would blush if I teased her about it right now? But just as

the thought came, he rejected it, knowing that it would be

insensitive on his part and might destroy the gain he had made.

Michelle seated Jane and then himself. "If that really is your

choice, I will have Marie return your dainties and other things

tomorrow, Michelle. Your blouse seems to have gotten quite wet."

Michelle grinned. "Thank you, Aunt Jane. You might tell her to

bring back only the more grown up fashions. Shirley Temple has

retired and I do need room in the armiore for Michael's things,

too."

Jane gave him her most sardonic, mocking smile, and his heart

stopped for a second. God, she could still do it to him. And

she knew it, too, darn her. "Oh, well. If you insist." she said

as testily as she could with her heart so full. Her daughter was

back now, too. Life was good again - at least until Michael had

to leave.

Part 4: Holiday Gifts

Christmas was only two weeks away and Jane was looking forward to

her first "family Christmas" since she had left home for school.

In the past few years, she would get together with friends on

Christmas Eve, and try to do something nice for her charges of

the moment that would not set her program back too far. This

holiday did not have that imposed restraint. Jane felt like the

Grinch after his heart had grown ten sizes. She and Karen had

planned gifts for both Michelle and for Michael, so that she

could have nice things when she visited, and he would have things

that were suitable for his future endeavors outside of the

cloister of her home.

Jane looked up as Marie entered the study. She smiled as her

longtime confidante, friend and fellow conspirator handed her the

day's mail. As always, it was sorted by type, and by addressee.

On top, was an official looking letter with a State return

address. Jane picked it up and started reading it before she

realized that the letter was for Michael. She should have put it

down. She no longer had any justification for previewing and

censoring his mail, but she could not put that, or the other

similar letter aside once she started reading it. Whatever had

Michael done? When had he done it? And most important of all -

• why* had he done it?

Jane was waiting in the sitting room just off the foyer when

Michael and Karen returned from their outing in town. Michael

was involving the two women in his shopping for the other,

wanting to make sure that their gifts were perfect. She smiled

at that insecurity, it had to be a male trait, because as far as

she could tell, all of his selections for Karen had been right on

target. She called to them. "Michael, please come in here a

moment. I need to talk to you for a moment, please."

Michael stuck his head in the sitting room door. "You want me to

change first, Aunt Jane?" She shook her head no, and handed him

the papers she had gotten in the mail.

As Michael began to read, Jane spoke. "I was not spying on you,

Michael, at least not now. It has been my standard procedure to

have Marie to open all mail and give it to me, particularly any

mail addressed to one of my students. There are good reasons for

that. Security for one: I need to know if one of my girls has a

correspondence that might be dangerous to him or to me. Another

reason is that I do not want bad news to reach one of them

without my knowledge, because I make them very vulnerable. Lord

knows what might happen if word of a death or serious illness in

the family reached one of my skirted boys at a particularly bad

moment. None of that excuses this, Michael, I should have

remembered to tell Marie to stop opening your private mail, but

now that I have seen it, I would like an explanation. Obviously,

this was the second set of exams you took in November, but why?"

State Board of Regents of Education December

12

Dear Mr. Nash,

Congratulations. Based on your transcripts from St. Andrews

Academy, your performance on the state tests in the subjects you

studied in your Home Learning Program under Ms. Thompson, and

your exceptional performance on the State Home Learner High

School Equivalency Diploma Exam, I am pleased to award you the

State Regents Diploma you will find enclosed with this letter.

Again, congratulations on a job superbly done.

The letter was signed by the State Regents Chairman. Michael

looked up at her. "I am sorry you had to learn about it this

way. I meant to tell you sooner, but I am not returning to St.

A's, Aunt Jane. I am staying in this area. I will be taking

courses at the University in Kingston during the Spring Term as a

non-degree student since this and my SAT's were too late for the

application deadline."

"But, but, why?"

"Because St. A's, and the Ivy League school are not my dream now,

if they ever truly were. If I have learned anything from you, it

is to be absolutely sure I know what I want, and to take

responsibility for the actions necessary to achieve that." He

turned his face to Karen, a gentle look on his face. "I want to

stay here."

Jane nodded. "All right, I can understand that, but what will

you do? What will you study? The Ivy League schools are the

best business schools in the country, you know."

Michael nodded. "I am going to become a research psychiatrist,

Jane. I want to go to Medical School. I want to learn what makes

people tick, but mostly, I want to understand what makes me

tick."

Jane studied him carefully, trying to understand where this was

headed. "This is very sudden, Michael, for such a radical change

in plans?"

"About as sudden as the changes in me that happened since June.

I knew in September that I did not want to go back to St. A's, I

just did not want to admit it, even to myself. So, when I sent

off my SAT application, I sent another one off for the state

exams. Remember? I needed two checks."

"Where will you stay? It would be hard for you here in this

house with the new student and all."

"I have not worked that out, yet."

Karen perked up for the first time. "He could stay in Nana's

house. It is just sitting empty now, waiting for me to reach

eighteen. He could sort of house sit for me."

Jane nodded. "That would work, I suppose, although you won't be

eighteen yourself, yet, Michael." she shrugged. "Well, you will

be close enough for me to keep an eye on you." He was STAYING,

her mind cheered. For now, that was enough. She realized that

it was more to be close to Karen than for her sake, but it was

still better than she could have hoped for. Smiling again, she

said, "Well, now that that is done, would you like to change for

dinner, Michael, or are you starving?"

Smiling, he shook his head. "I need a shower. I think I will

change, Aunt Jane." making her smile grow wider.

Later, while Karen saw to getting some coffee made, Jane decided

to make use of the opportunity, and asked Michael, now dressed as

Michelle, what had started him on his new track.

Michelle flushed, but faced Jane squarely. "I am ashamed to

admit, Aunt Jane, that it was a desire for revenge."

That was not what Jane had expected. "Revenge?"

"Yes, on you and your comrades in crime." Michelle sighed,

thinking of the carefully laid out plans he had not dared commit

to writing. "I had decided that I was always going to have these

feminine little habits that you had forced on me and that in an

all boys school, those little nuances and movements were going to

make my life hell on earth. So, I plotted to be here in the

area, so I could watch you, and wait for the opportunity to

destroy you." Jane blanched at blunt statement. Michelle saw it

and nodded. "Yes, strong words, but that is how I felt, and

looking back on it, I could have done it."

"Really, Michelle?" Jane tried to sound dubious, but he was so

confident.

"Really, Jane. You are vulnerable, and I don't know why

something has not already happened to you. All you have to

protect yourself with is the threat of using those pictures, and

later on, the good will of your former students. If the threat

is insufficient, or if the good will is lacking, or worse, is

replaced by a will to do harm, you can be hurt. I was going to

wait until I saw you want something really badly. Maybe a lover,

or a husband - then I was going to drop everything I knew on the

desk of some scandal sheet. You would have been the greatest

thing since Heidi Fleis or the Mayflower Madam. Oh, you would

not have gone to jail - you had permission to do what you did.

But your network of supporters and helpers, the judges, the

social workers, Caro, Sandy and the rest - they'd be hurt and

hurt badly, personally and professionally. How many society

matrons would trust their debutante daughters to a beauty salon

or dress shop that participated in such perversions on helpless

young men?" He stopped as he saw Jane grimace as his words hit

home. "But then, Karen happened, and suddenly, I derived some

benefit from being..... not quite so manly. And then David, as

Beth, asked me to try for his sake if not for my own. Once I

stopped fighting so hard, I started to enjoy it more, but then I

started worrying that something was wrong with me. That is when

I got hooked on psychology."

"When did you stop wanting to hurt me that way?"

"It started when you let me stay with Karen. A lot happened that

night that was wonderful, and none of that would have happened if

not for Michelle. Which means if not for you. I started trying

to be more objective. I came to the conclusion that you were,

for the most part, really trying to help."

"Only 'for the most part', Michael?" her voice soft.

Michael wished he had kept his mouth shut. "Jane, let me answer

your question with a question. You don't even have to give me

the answer. Can you honestly say that every trick and test was

purely for my benefit and not for your own enjoyment of my

discomfort and humiliation? Did it have to be that harsh a

lesson in each and every case?" Jane wanted to tell him that, of

course, everything she had done had simply been the best way to

help him, that there was nothing needlessly cruel in her program.

But she knew that was not true. Part of her reason for doing

this type of work was the pleasure of watching her skirted and

pantied little boys deal with the embarrassment and terror that

her deliciously evil little games roused in them. Michael came

over to kneel in front of her. "I've come to love you, you know.

You are the first woman who ever cared enough to be hard on me

when I needed it. And that is the final reason I put aside plans

for revenge. You were right. Right for and about me, anyway."

"Oh, Michael." Jane's call was a sob, and the two of them

clutched at each other, sharing tears. Jane, because he had seen

the worst of her, and still loved her; Michael, because she was

Jane, and he had been forced to hurt her.

Karen returned carrying the coffee tray. "Hey, what is going on

here? Why are you both so upset? What happened?" Quietly,

still holding Jane, Michael explained what had happened. Karen

slammed the tray down on the coffee table. "Damn it, Michelle, I

told you not to tell her that. Go to your room, young lady, get

your hairbrush, and bring it to me here." Michael looked at her

in shock, not believing what he just heard. "Now, Michelle,

unless you want to sleep alone for the next two weeks, you will

get that brush and then hustle your cute little butt back down

here.", Karen added in the sweetest of tones. Michael hurried

from the room and returned with the antique, silver hair brush

that Jane had given him. He handed the long handled implement to

his lover, eyes downcast. Karen took a seat in one of the

Chippendale chairs that sat off to one corner of the room. She

gave Michelle a dark look. "You know the position, Michelle, I

suggest you assume it unless you want me to add to your

punishment."

Jane watched, unbelieving as Michelle slowly walked to Karen and

then draped herself over Karen's lap. She really should stop

this, but lord, Michelle was blushing furiously and it had been

so long since she had last seen that. Then Jane's eyes nearly

bugged out when Karen carefully drew Michelle's skirts up over

her back and pulled her panties down to her knees. The first

stroke landed with a loud splat, and Michelle's squeal of

surprise. Jane could not have stopped this now, even if she

wanted to.

Which she didn't. Michelle was Karen's now, and she had things

well in hand.

Jane stood, and strolled over for a better look. Michelle looked

over to see her coming and her face became a darker shade of red.

"Well, Michelle, I am pleased to see you still wear proper

hosiery and not pantyhose."

"Karen...>Owww< ... likes them better than ..>mmmf<.. pantyhose."

Michelle managed to pant out between brush swats. Karen was

raining a steady pelter on Michelle's round, hairless bottom.

Jane grinned, thoroughly enjoying the exchange and the spectacle.

Tears were starting to make Michelle's mascara run in dark

rivulets down her face. Karen looked up at her guardian. "Well,

Jane, would you please check for color and heat? See if this bad

girl is done yet?"

Pleased with the idea, Jane sauntered up and gave the bright pink

globes a thorough inspection. When she laid her hand on one, the

coolness of her hand made Michelle jump in pained surprise. An

evil twinkle in Karen's eyes told Jane the required response.

What fun! "Well, darling, that place there," she said running a

single nail along the sensitive, burning flesh. My, my, my. she

thought, how it quivered. "Is not nearly as colorful or as hot

as the rest of her. And of course, no part of her bottom is as

colorful as her sweet face."

Karen proffered the brush to Jane, handle first. "Would you like

to correct the omission, Jane?"

Jane was sorely tempted, and might have taken Karen up on the

offer had it not been for the conversation that precipitated

this. It was one thing to be spanked sensuously by your lover.

It was another thing entirely for it to come from someone you

have just begun to trust after a rough start. "No, thank you,

dear, I would rather just watch and enjoy the, ummm, color and

pageantry."

Karen began to spank again in earnest, and finished with a flurry

of ten strong strokes that left Michelle broken and in tears.

Without being asked, Jane again rested her hand on the burning

bottom, letting the coolness of her touch bring some comfort.

"Michelle, I want you to get up, now, and go fix your face. Come

right back here when you are done." Michelle rose and quickly

turned to face away from Jane. This put his front directly

towards Karen. Her mouth went open and then she grinned.

"Ooooooo, Michelle, what do we have here?" Jane saw Karen reach

up to grip something just below Michelle's waist and then heard

Michelle's groan of frustration and pleasure. It was Jane's turn

to blush. "Well, I am certainly not going to do anything about

that right now, you naughty thing, but you might as well leave

those panties behind. There is no way you are going to get them

on over THAT!"

Blushing furiously, Michelle slipped off the satin bikini and

moved towards the door, keeping his back to Jane. Karen called

out. "Michelle? Sweetie? You better not do anything about that

swelling, either. Its all mine. I've earned it." Michelle

almost ran from the room. Both women sat down, laughing giddily.

When they calmed a bit, Jane turned to Karen. "You did not have

to spank him over that, dear. Really, I asked him."

Karen shrugged. " I asked him to leave that alone, Jane. He did

not have to tell you, even if you asked. Don't worry about it.

It is okay. Besides, a good spanking makes him horny as hell."

she added with an anticipatory smile.

Jane nodded. "So I gathered."

Karen continued. "And another thing, it will give him back a bit

of the humility he's lost lately."

Jane considered that. "He was not being mean, Karen, not really.

In his own way, I think he was trying to make me see, without

telling me directly, how vulnerable I and my little cadre could

be to a really determined student. And Michael would have been

very determined, I think, had he not been lucky enough to find

you. I think I really needed to hear that from him. If only to

reconsider the possible ramifications of what I do with my

charges." Jane's pensive look gave way to an almost girlish,

conspiratorial grin. "Would you really have denied him your

favors for two whole weeks, Karen?" Jane knew that the two

rarely slept apart, and had convinced herself that they were that

rare breed - a life bonded pair.

"Good thing we don't have to find out, huh?", Karen chuckled.

A thought occurred to Jane, "Dear, suppose he decides that you

need some, ummm, not so gentle correction directly to the seat of

a problem? He is big enough to do it. Quite well, too, I should

think."

Karen thought about that concept for a moment, and then a very

feline, very sexy feminine grin lit her face. "Oh, I do hope

you're right, Jane, and soon, too." Michelle came back into the

room to find his two favorite women giggling helplessly in each

other's arms on the sofa.

Christmas Eve dawned with a touch of frost and a promise of snow

in the air. Jane had been up and working in her study for

several hours, when the phone rang. She answered it, listened,

and then began to plan.

At lunch, she told the two teens of the call. "So, Dennis

Luchessi will be joining me after the New Year. I suspect I will

call him DeeDee." she said thoughtfully. Karen, who knew that

this case had been on and off several times in the past month

asked how she could be sure of that arrival after so many false

starts. "Well, it seems that he lost his control again, this

time he struck a teacher and scared her badly. The principal

expelled him, but the teacher brought charges against him. It

was the final straw, even for his Mother. I put her in touch

with a judge who works with me, and he has been given the choice.

A few weeks, which of course will be months, with me, or reform

school."

Michelle had kept quiet through Jane's explanation, but then

bellowed. "He struck a woman, and you are going to have him

here? In your home? Alone???" Michael had made no effort to

use his 'Michelle' voice, surprising both women with the

vehemence of his outburst.

Jane tried to soothe him. "Well, certainly, Michelle. I have

had students with a violent past, before. Once they have their

little outburst, like you did, they get the faces smacked and

they get with the program."

"Suppose he hits you back, Jane? Have you considered that?"

"You did not, dear. Don't worry so."

"I do worry. I nearly belted you when you finger whipped me.

Only seventeen years of training as a gentleman stopped me. He,

obviously, does not have that training. And another thing. When

you pulled that stunt on me, David was behind me, and I guarantee

he was ready to jump me from behind if I even looked like I was

going after you. Karen is tough, but she is not going to be a

match for a young male in a rage, which he will be in at that

point."

"Well, I take your point, Michelle, but what do you suggest I do?

I have already told the judge I will take him on. I do not go

back on my commitments."

Michelle gave a thoroughly unladylike snort. "No. You wouldn't,

would you. I guess the only thing for it is for me to stay on as

'big sister' in residence, at least until you get him past the

first hurdles. When he is ready for solo, I will leave like

David did and go stay at Nana's house. But, you have to promise

that you won't do any of the rough stuff unless I am there."

Jane looked at him, unbelievingly. "But what about the

University? Your schooling?"

Michelle shrugged. "I got my schedule in the mail today. All my

classes are between ten am and two in the afternoon. I can leave

as Michelle, change at Nana's and go to school. Then, I reverse

the process on the way home." He grinned. "I may need some more

wigs so that Sandy can style them instead of me, and some of

those fake eyebrows."

"I can't believe you are even considering this." Jane said in

amazement.

"I love you both. Did you know that the original meaning of

'husband' was care giver?" His warm eyes fell on Karen. "I have

to take care of you two or not be true to that love." He pulled

two small, gaily gift wrapped boxes from beneath his chair. " I

was going to give you these tomorrow, but now seems more

appropriate." He handed one to each of the women. Jane opened

her's first. Inside was a ring with three stones, two green

peridot gems flanking a diamond in the center of the setting.

Jane looked up, tears in her eyes. "That is a Mother's Ring,

Jane, with three stones indicating three children. The diamond

is Karen's birth stone, and the peridot are Michael's and

Michelle's." Jane's hug nearly strangled him, and she held on

for what seemed like an eternity.

Karen's cough brought them back. "May I open mine, now?" she

said with some asperity. Michael nodded, and she tore open the

paper. Another ring, this one with a solitaire diamond in a

simple gold setting. Her eyes flew to Michael who knelt down on

one knee in front of her.

"Karen, I love you. Please marry me." A shouted yes answered

him as she scrambled out of her seat and knocked him on to his

back on the floor. When Jane finally helped the pair to their

feet, she was chuckling.

"Michael, do you realize, that you just proposed in skirts, to a

woman wearing pants? Whatever will you tell your grandchildren?"

"That she said yes, of course." he dead panned.

It was the end of January; DeeDee had been living with Jane and

the two teens for almost four weeks. She had made incredible

progress. Never had Jane seen a boy work so hard, or perfect the

attitudes and intricacies of his new, petticoated and skirted

condition so quickly. And not once, even when she had pushed

very hard, had DeeDee shown the inclination for violence that had

sealed her fate and brought her to Jane. Today, however, Jane

had gotten a hint of something that might explain what was going

on. She called to Karen and asked her ward to come into the

study.

Once they were behind closed doors, Jane asked. "All right,

Karen. What did Michael threaten DeeDee with that has her nearly

peeing her knickers? She angered me today, and when I told her

she would be punished, she burst in tears and begged me not to

punish her like I had Michelle."

Karen gave Jane what she hoped was a confused stare. "Michael,

Jane? Threats?"

Gotcha, thought Jane. "Yes, dear. Michael. Threats. And don't

try to lie. You aren't good enough at it, yet."

Karen sighed. "Oh, all right. Michael did not know if you could

resist pushing DeeDee too hard without him here to be your knight

in shining satin. So he improvised a little." Jane said

nothing, but lifted her brow and gave a "come on" movement with

her hands. "He told DeeDee that the reason he leaves the house

every day is to go to school because he hit you, and you would

not let him stay at home for school anymore."

"I see, and where, pray tell, is he going to school?"

"The all girls school over in Newport." she said quickly. "He

also said that he had to take gym classes from a sadistic woman

gym teacher who found out he is really a boy, so his life there

was pure hell. He told DeeDee that his only other choice was to

go to reform school, same as DeeDee, with his face still prettied

up and his hair all styled." Karen's voice was low and

conspiratorial. "I understand that, at that point, DeeDee turned

white and then ran to the bathroom as fast as her skirts would

permit."

Jane shook her head. "Oh, lord. And he said I was mean and

devious. That stinker. No wonder DeeDee is being so good.

Hell, I wish I had thought of it myself."

Epilogue: Five years later

The huge mansion was a show place. Rows of chairs, separated

down the middle to make a center aisle had been set up on the

lawn. A canopied alter had been arranged at the head of the

aisle, alongside a piano that Marie was playing background music

on.

Michael, no, make that Dr. Michael Nash, psychiatric resident at

Children's Hospital, made his way to the altar. He was

accompanied by David, who stood beside his friend as they turned

to face the assembled crowd. Marie broke into the opening bars of

the Wedding March, and everyone turned to face the rear of the

aisle.

A lovely young black girl led Miss Karen Austin toward the altar.

Actually, that girl was Jane's first African American student.

Before coming to her, Tyrone, now Tyna, Davis had been a smallish

boy, who'd been trapped in a gang environment. He'd been forced

again and again to prove his toughness, and the violence had been

escalating. His mother was a nurse, a colleague of Mrs. Bedford

who had referred the mother to Jane. Tyna looked lovely, and

only she thought everyone would recognize the black pixie with

crown of braided curls, as a local boy. Today would definitely

be the beginning of the end for this student. Two birds with one

stone - a marriage and a break through - a good days work all

around.

The service was traditional, and if *all* the members of the

official party were wearing identical lingerie, well, that was a

special secret Jane would hug to herself. She knew because she'd

been asked to choose the undies. By Michelle, no less. Of

course, she might have chosen something a little less.....

confining than the lace up, steel boned corselette if she had

known that Karen and Michael would give her one to wear. "You

will be part of the official party, won't you Auntie Jane?" had

been Michelle's response to Jane's near refusal to wear the damn

thing.

With the start of the service, she went over to the bride's side

of the aisle, and gently helped an older lady to walk down to

stand behind the bride and groom. The minister looked up and

asked, "Who gives this woman to be wedded to this man?"

Nana answered in a surprisingly strong voice. "I, her

Grandmother, do." Jane wished the girl's father could be there,

but he had died in a terrorist attack in the Middle East two

years ago. But it was wonderful that Nana had lived long enough

to be here and share this day. She had taken the transformation

of her granddaughter's friend "Michelle" into her granddaughter's

fiance' "Michael" with surprising good humor and acceptance.

Confidentially, she had told Jane that her Mother had used

similar trials on Nana's brother, and that it was too bad Nana

had not petticoated Karen's father a few times. "Might have made

him a more caring human being and a father instead merely being

the source of the sperm that created her."

The minister grimaced, shook his head, then asked. "Who gives

this man to be wedded to this woman?" Barb had been invited, but

was too busy partying in Fiji.

Jane answered. "I, his Aunt Jane, do."

Michael spoke up, surprising everyone but Karen, "And she is one

who is Mother to me in all but the matter of my birth." That did

it. Jane spent the rest of the ceremony in happy tears.

A letter from Ms. Jane Thompson....

June 15

Barbara,

Once again, you have proven yourself a fool. The boy you gave

birth to, my son, was married today. He was sad that you could

not find time in your busy schedule to celebrate his union.

Thought you should know that. I find it hard to believe that I

ever called you friend. Stupidity of youth, I guess.

You have chosen your life. I wish you joy of it. It won't match

what I have, though. You see, Michael and Karen just told me

that I am going to be a grandmother in a few months. Of course,

they will continue to live here as it is their home. That will

naturally curtail my activities with my young men, but I think

that the prize is more than worth that price.

Goodbye, Barb. I won't contact you again.

Jane Thompson

Jane knew she would miss her petticoating games, but all good

things eventually end. Jane looked up from her letter as Michael

knocked on the open door. "Aunt Jane, Karen and I are about to

leave." He entered the room and swept her into a fierce hug. A

tall, dignified, relatively slender man with gentle eyes and

graying hair followed him in and waited patiently while the two

embraced. In hitching voices, they promised to be careful while

the other was not there to look after them. When they broke

apart, Michael remembered his mission. Turning to the man, he

introduced him as "Dr. Edwin Markov, my thesis advisor and mentor

at Brown Medical School. Edwin, this is my Aunt Jane who taught

me everything about, well, you know." Jane's brows shot up in

surprise, looking first at her suddenly fidgety Michael, and then

at the self assured man in front of her.

His voice was soft, "Yes, Michael, I do know." He put out a well

manicured hand which she took in hers. A frisson of heat curled

in her belly as she looked again at the handsome man standing

beside her son. Something about him pulled at her. "A pleasure,

Ms. Thompson. You can be very proud of your Michael. His unique

background and training will make him an outstanding research

psychiatric physician."

Unique background and training? Confused, Jane tried to read the

man, and then, it hit her. His eyes! The brows were fine - very

fine, and beautifully arched; the lashes long and unusually full.

Someone had spent a lot of time shaping those brows and lashes.

Jane's gaze shifted to Michael who blew her a kiss as he quietly

slipped out of the room. Then Dr. Markov gallantly kissed the

hand he still held. "A lovely room, Ms. Thompson. You have some

beautiful antiques in here. Victorian, I believe? I understand

from Michael that you are a student of Victorian England and its

practices. I would love to discuss it with you, as I have

something of an interest in that period, myself.

Jane shivered deliciously, and silently thanked Michael for his

not-so-subtle attempt at matchmaking. Maybe good things did not

have to end. Maybe, sometimes, good things just grew up and

matured into something even better. She was suddenly excited

about the future again.

The end?