Message-ID: <3584eli$9709011202@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: MelLin6695@aol.com Subject: New TG from Waldo - Jane - Chapter 7b of 9b Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <970830120036_672683639@emout16.mail.aol.com> Jane by Waldo Chapter 7b of 9b Tarzan is a copyrighted character and this story is not intended to infringe on those rights. While my Tarzan has a similar storyline, its purpose is to entertain without claiming credit for the orignal Tarzan. All rights reserved by Author. Not to be read by minors or sold without explicit written permission of the author Turning quickly, Tarzan walked out of the room, down the large staircase and out through the large double doors into the courtyard. He saw her sitting under the canopy as he approached her from behind. When he was about ten feet away, she turned and stared at him as he stopped to stare at her. It was the same classic and delicate face that the former Jane Palmer had grown up with - only it really wasn't the same. The last time that the former Jane Parker seen that pretty face reflected back in a mirror or pool of still water, it'd been the face of a rebellious young girl still in her teens. This was the same face, but it was now the beautiful face of a young woman - a proper lady. A face that looked more like Jane's deceased mother than the somewhat submissive but still wild teenaged Jane that had ran away from this beautiful home. Gone was the golden tan from the months of constant exposure to the hot African sun, replaced with the pale china-white complexion so favored by English nobles. The long mass of curled hair looked as if it had to be curled every morning by one of the maids with a hot curling iron to give it the many large and delicate curls of the latest hairstyles - a hairstyle of a Lady used to afternoon teas and formal dinners. The face appeared softer but it could've been part of the illusion caused by the makeup - a reddish rouge on the cheeks to give some color to the china-white flawless complexion, a touch of scarlet crimson on the lips and a little mascara to highlight the eyes. The same makeup that Jane's mother had worn and the face made up the way that the former teenage Jane had been taught in her finishing school so many years before. Dangling from each of the woman's ears were earrings, large golden earrings that were inserted through pierced ears that the tomboyish former Jane Parker had sworn so many times in her teenage years that her ears would never be pierced. As a young child, she had hated the thought of mutilating her body just to wear something that declared her to be a woman. Although Jane's Finishing School friends were very deep into the pierced ears look and associated earrings, it was something that Jane thought would only be a passing fad. The woman standing in front of him was wearing a long white crinoline skirt, hoops, and long sleeved, high-neck frilly white blouse with long puffed out sleeves. The skirt had several layers of frilly petticoats under it, giving it a full look that was pleasing but difficult to sit down in. The too-slender waist and slight evidence of corset stays indicated that the woman's body was completely encased in several layers of clothes. The clothes that the teenager Jane had hated to wear - the type of socially-acceptable formal clothes that her father constantly insisted that she wear. Around the woman's slender neck was a delicate string of pearls that Tarzan remembered had been a marriage gift from Jane's father to Jane's mother. The blouse was buttoned on the top button by a cameo pin that had been in Jane's family for years and left to her by her long-ago deceased mother. On her finger was a simple gold band - a wedding ring. Tarzan had almost forgotten how small and dainty his former body was. He didn't have time to do any adjustment right after the body exchange and seeing his former body standing here, dressed like a Victorian doll, made it look so small and delicate. Also four years of being in a tall male body associating with the tall Amazon Women had adjusted his memory of his former body. His memory of his former body was that of a woman that was almost as tall as his eyes. Instead he was staring at a woman whose eye level was just a little above his nipple level. A smile formed on the young Lady Jane's face as she held out her slender hand so that her male guest could kiss the back of it in the proper greeting method "My maid told me that we had a handsome visitor from Africa. Welcome to my home. I'm Lady Jane Desmond and I understand that you've already talked to my husband. Please call me Jane." A faint delicate aroma reached his sensitive nose which he recognized as an expensive French perfume. Tarzan didn't move as he stared at his former body, still finding it difficult to accept the fact that she didn't recognize her former male body or remember any of their short life together. Because he didn't follow the standard social protocol of kissing her offered hand as a greeting, she quickly dropped her hand and continued her greeting although her guest wasn't following standard protocols "Let me introduce the rest of my family. Lawrence, come here, please." The head of a small boy popped out from between bushes. Then he ran across the grass into her skirt, wrapping his short arms around her leg as the small boy turned to face Tarzan. The young boy was about three to four years old and dressed in the new Buster Brown fashion - brown shorts, a white shirt with bow-tie, a little brown jacket, and brown shoes with knee-high white socks. His hair was parted in the middle and there was a smudge of dirt on his face where he'd been playing in the bushes. Jane calmly wet the tip of her finger with her tongue and used that dampness to clean the smudge from his face as she stated in a very vibrant and positive tone of voice "Lawrence, this is Mister Tarzan. He'll be staying with us at least tonight and maybe longer depending upon his plans. Please welcome him to our home." The little boy stepped forward timidly holding out his hand, then dropped his hand as he ran around Tarzan. Spinning around, Tarzan saw the little boy run up to Sir Walter who was just coming out the doors. The woman's soft voice had a hint of frustration as she laughingly declared in the soprano voice that sounded so familiar yet so different "That boy's going to be the death of me yet. I hope that you forgive him his bad manners because of his youth." As he turned to face her, he discovered that she had moved closer to him - so close that he could've touched her; her perfume almost overpowering him as its delicate scent filled his sensitive nostrils. She looked up at him, her face somewhat blank except for the formal smile that he knew that she used with strangers "I suppose that my dear husband told you about my complete memory loss while I was in Africa. So I hope you'll forgive me if I don't remember meeting you during my travels there. Are you planning on being in England for awhile?" He stared into her eyes, trying to ignore the unfamiliar mascara and other eye-enhancing makeup that he had experimented with as a teenage female so many years before. He tried to ignore the impulse to take her into his arms and to kiss her, knowing that unacceptable act could drive her away before he really had a chance to talk to her. He tried to look deep into her soul, to try to find the hidden memories that he knew had to still be buried there. She looked back into his eyes, her dark eyes revealing nothing as she softly asked "How well did we know each other?" Before he could answer, Sir Walter came up, holding onto the boy that was more interested in running away again than meeting the strange new man, interjecting "My dear, I hope that you've convinced our guest that he must spend the night. We've got so much to talk about." She broke the eye contact as she smiled at her husband. Stepping over beside the old man, she expertly shifted the little boy's hand from his father's grasp to her small hand "Most assuredly. Now if you gentlemen will forgive me, I'll take Lawrence upstairs for his nap and see you gentlemen at Tea." She held onto the boy's hand with one hand, while lifting her long skirt with the other hand as she walked away. Sir Walter sat down in one of the chairs under the canopy as he pointed at the departing woman and child declaring "As you can see, she has no memory - of you or her life before the waterfall. She doesn't even really remember the waterfall, only portions of the first couple of days coming down the river. I hope by now that you see that she's not the woman that you knew. That woman's long dead. This woman is a lady who enjoys her life on this estate and her family. She only remembers what her father and I have told her about her past life. Do you still plan to kill me? If so, it will only give you revenge and as you can see, it won't return her to you. She'll hate you and will use her vast fortune to hunt you down as if you were the villain." A very quiet and contemplative Tarzan sat down across from the old man, knowing that the old man was right and that it was time to consider changing his plans. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /