Message-ID: <15696eli$9809290529@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: New TG: A Losing Season 7 of 13 (Femdom(?), CD) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: tigger@alices.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii X-Authentication-Warning: philabs-gw.philabs.research.philips.com: smap set sender to using -f 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: <3618543d.1201376@news.erols.com> A Losing Season - An Alternative Ending to Seasons of Change Part VII by Tigger Copyright 1998 Archiving and reposting of this story *unchanged* is permitted provided that no fee be charged, either directly or indirectly (this includes so-called "adult checks") *and* provided that this disclaimer and attribution to the original author are maintained intact. Based on the characters and situations presented in "Seasons of Change" by Joel Lawrence, Copyright 1989. This story is archived in its entirety at: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Joel_Lawrence This story represents an alternative ending to Mr. Lawrence's story. It is essentially a parallel universe story where things start out the same, but follow a much different path than the one portrayed in the original story. A Losing Season: Chapter 24. Fond Farewell Excerpt: Michelle's Diary August 28 - Day 43 Dear Diary Well, tomorrow we drive to Providence to put David on the plane for Illinois. God only knows why, but he's decided he wants to go to the University of Illinois at Urbana. I know this is right for Beth/David, but I am going to miss him. Sandy just left. She undid most of David's "beth-i-ness" - at least everything that can be undone. It was easier and more effective *this* time since Jane hasn't made him get a permanent since before. . .well, since before he left that earlier time. Anyway, most of the curl came out when Sandy cut his hair this time. It seemed very strange looking across the dining table and seeing this male stranger with the shadow of Beth's face. My first instinct is to call him Beth, and I know that I have to school myself to stop that. Particularly anytime in the future if and when we are around anyone who knows or knew Beth. Since David does not have any family to speak of, he's asked if he can come visit here at Jane's home for holidays and such. Jane said that since she wasn't taking in any new students for the foreseeable future, she'd love to have him come visit. Then she added that, perhaps, I could use David as my "away at college boyfriend" for after the New Year when I go back to school, assuming that I do that as Michelle. Having a college age boy friend may help deflect a lot of the unwanted male interest. Unfortunately, I don't think that ploy is going to discourage Dennis. He hugged me today before he kissed my hand again. I *don't* want to think about that now. I am too busy being sad about losing Beth. Before he goes, there is something I have to do, something I should have done a long time ago. Michelle Nash ~-------------~ No one in the house slept well that night. David was excited about starting his new life and going to school. Jane, Michelle and Maria contemplated the loss of someone who had become to Jane and Maria more than just another student, and to Michelle the sister neither she nor Michael ever had. They were all up before dawn since David's flight departed Providence at seven am. Breakfast was a somber affair with none of them having very much to say. The sun's first weak rays were peaking over the horizon as they got into the Lincoln for the trip to the airport. The paperwork at the check-in desk went without problem, and soon they were in the waiting area of David's departure gate. "Damn, David, but I am going to miss you." Michelle said when the call came for his flight to board. "I am going to miss you, too. You have my new address, Michelle, and I will call you just as soon as I have a phone number so you can reach me that way, too." Michelle reached out to take his right hand in hers. "David?" she said, her voice rough and shaky. "Yes, Michelle?" "Thank you for saving my life all those weeks ago." Michelle's grip on his hand tightened spasmodically. "I know I'd be dead if you had not come in there and fought me for my life. And thank you for coming back when you had every reason to run as far from me as you could get." "I'm . . I'm glad I was there in time, Michelle." David choked out against the emotions welling up in him. The two young people stood transfixed, their hands together, their eyes locked. This moment would almost have been funny, Jane thought, if it wasn't so sad. If they had both been here as males, they could have shaken hands, thumped each other heartily on the back, perhaps even hugged. If they had both been here as females, they would have hugged, and maybe shared a kiss on the cheek. But this situation was neither of those, and they did not seem to know how to get past the gender roles they were both fighting against. Suddenly, Michelle shuddered. "Oh, Hell!" she growled and moved in to wrap her arms around David and hug him fiercely. David's arms came around Michelle and the two friends held one another until Jane had to intervene. "David," she said, putting a hand on each young person. "They're almost done loading the plane." Reluctantly, David and Michelle broke apart. David turned and went into Jane's arms for a hug and a quick, awkward kiss. For all the progress they had made in the past month and a half, Jane still had trouble showing affection to one of her students, and just now, she deeply regretted that. "Thank you, Jane, for everything. I love you." David said through his tears. Embarrassed, he turned to the gate, only to almost run over Michelle. Michelle went up on her toes to whisper in her friend's ear. "Be safe, David/Beth. I will miss you, big sister." and then planted a kiss of her own on his cheek. "I have to go." was all David could get out. Michelle and Jane watched in silence until the plane with David disappeared into the western skies. "Ready to leave, now?" Jane asked. Michelle dug about in her purse and pulled out a pair of tissues. She handed one to Jane. "I guess, Aunt Jane, although if I look as raccoon-eyed as you do, I think we both need to make a quick trip to the ladies room. Jane nodded and then led the way. She paused just before entering, and turned to Michelle. "By the way, remind me to add two more demerits to the green book, dear." "Two?!?!?" she sputtered, before beginning to laugh softly. "Yes, Aunt Jane. I promise to remind you." "Always on stage, pet." Jane reminded gently. Michelle nodded and then moved past Jane into the restroom. Excerpt: Michelle's Diary August 29 - Day 44 Dear Diary David just called to let us know he got there safely. I am glad he's safe, and happy for him that he has made it through Jane's program. As I understand it, the Judge will now seal all of the records and it will be as if he had been tried as a juvenile, effectively giving him a clean slate. He deserves it. He is a wonderful guy and Beth was a wonderful sister. I've even forgiven her for helping Jane to set me up all those weeks ago. Before the incident, that is. It is not like Jane gave David/Beth any choice in the matter. Dinner was strange. Must have been a half a dozen times one of us turned towards Beth's chair to say something to her. Heck, Maria even forgot and set a place for her, just like always. I don't know what possessed me today, to hug him like that and then to plant one on his cheek. It just happened. It was like that I simply *needed* to express the depth of what I was feeling for him and those were the only things that came close to expressing that. As I said, I don't know why I did those things, but I am glad that I did. I know now that I would always have regretted not doing them. It is going to be hard without Beth. I am still afraid about developing really close friendships with any of the girls at Caro's, and Denny is making me increasingly nervous. I feel more isolated and more alone than I have in all the days since I left St. Andrews. Another downer is the two demerits Jane assessed me at the airport. By my count, that puts me somewhere over the magic hundred, so I guess I'm a little surprised Jane did not tell me to report for my well earned mouthful of soap tonight. Maybe she has just decided today has been bad enough and is letting it go until tomorrow. At least I lasted longer this time than last time. Yuck. Michelle Nash. A Losing Season: Chapter 25. Just Showin' Off Michelle had hung back after the other girls had all rushed out of the Marisha Chalet following Caro's class. She really needed to talk to someone and after a great deal of thought, had decided that Carolyn might be the best person to start with. She could have tried Jane, but it was just so embarrassing and Michelle still remembered her times with Jane before her thankfully unsuccessful suicide entirely too well to completely trust the other woman with something so personal and so potentially humiliating. Having finished collecting her cosmetics and cleaning up after a dozen girls, Caro looked up and noticed Michelle was still in the shop for the first time. They had been working on eyes today, complete with false eyelashes. The girl's eyes looked huge, haunting - it was just incredible. She had to stifle a momentary spurt of envy, and wished that such sexy eyes had not been wasted on a boy. She sighed and began arranging the tubes, bottles and boxes on their storage shelf. "You waiting for Jane, 'Chell?" Caro asked, using the nickname both she and Sandy had taken to using. For her own part, Michelle could not decide whether she liked the nickname or not, but now was not the time to quibble about something as minor as that. "Not until I call. . . ummmm, . . Carolyn, could I talk to you for a few moments . . . out back?" Out back was the private room behind the main salon. Out back was where Sandy and Carolyn worked their evil magic on Jane's boys, at least until the lads became sufficiently lady-like to pass the scrutiny of the outer salon. Surprised by the request, Carolyn nonetheless agreed since she had no appointments the rest of the afternoon. Once they were behind closed doors, Caro asked, "What's up? Problems? One of the girls looking at you too closely?" "No. . .nothing like that. Caro. . . your husband,. . . ummm, he was one of Jane's students, wasn't he?" "No harm in telling you that. Yes, he was. And since I knew him before Jane and loathed him as a real jerk, that is one of the reasons I elected to help Jane." Michelle nodded. That was what Beth had said. "Carolyn, forgive me for asking this, and don't answer if it offends you, but I don't know who else to ask. Did your husband ever mention. . . feeling really feminine. . " and here the girl's face went scarlet under her new makeup job. "Ummm feminine, around guys." it all came out in a rush. Momentarily taken aback by both the question and the manner, Carolyn could only stare at Michelle for several agonizingly long moments. Then she cleared her throat. "Not that he ever mentioned to me, dear. Am I to infer from this that you are feeling . . .or have felt feminine that way?" There was no mockery or sarcasm in Carolyn's voice - only concern. "Last night. . . after dance class. Jane was a little late and Dennis walked me to the door. When Jane wasn't there, he . . well, he pulled me into a corner, away from the front window. . and . . .and" tears started to form little black rivulets down her cheek. Fear clutched at Caro's throat, afraid of what she might learn. "What did he do, Michael?" she asked firmly, hoping the use of his male name would bolster him. "He kissed me. . . with his tongue, Caro. . . and I *let* him. How could I just let him do that? I mean, I am a guy, too. Aren't I?" The relief that it had not been worse washed over Carolyn and she was hard pressed not to laugh. "I take it that the experience was not unpleasant?" "No." was the soft response. "I actually got . . .well, excited." "As in you became erect?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Michelle nodded again. "Okay, luv. Look, we need to talk to Jane about this, and probably to that psychologist you are working with. I don't know if my darling hubby ever felt that way, but then, Jane never allowed him to be in uncontrolled situations where something like that could happen. Until you, Jane was always scrupulously careful to protect her girls from things like boys and sex. Even when it didn't seem that she was." "I am so scared, Caro. It is all . . . so outside of anything I have ever had to deal with before." "I expect that it would be, dear, but then, isn't *everything* you've experienced with Jane outside of anything you've ever had to deal with before?" "Well, yes., but. . " "But, nothing. Look at yourself. You are totally immersed in an intensely feminine experience. I don't think it is unrealistic to expect that you might respond to many situations the same as a born female would." At the darkening of Michelle's face, Carolyn held up a hand in restraint. "Let me ask you something, dear. What does Michael think of Anna?" The answer was immediate. "She's the prettiest, nicest girl I have ever met." "And what would *Michael* like to do with her?" The smooth forehead above the finely shaped brows wrinkled in concentration. "I'd really like to get to know her better. . .maybe go out together. . .that sort of stuff." "What does Michael think about maybe kissing Anna." She almost laughed when a look of sheer masculine anticipation flitted across the very feminine face. "Oh, yeah." he breathed, and it was definitely Michael who'd responded. They sat there quietly for a few minutes as Carolyn gave Michelle/Michael some room to deal with these new and uncomfortable ideas and emotions. "So, this is part of being - really being Michelle?" "Maybe it is part of *you* being Michelle, dear. I don't think you have to worry about it, dear. Just talk about it with Jane and the doctor, okay?" and she reached over to help the girl to her feet and begin walking to the door. "Okay, Caro. Thank you. You have helped. A great deal." and she stopped and planted a soft kiss on the older woman's cheek. "Thank you very much." she said again. "My pleasure." she replied, showing Michelle back into the main salon. A chiming bell caught their attention and they turned to see the shop's outer door opening to admit Brenda Franson - a very harried looking Brenda Franson. "Caro. . . are any of your girls from your Wednesday class still here? One of the models for tonight's fashion show is ill, and there are just too many outfits for the others to handle in the scheduled time. I need someone else." "Only Michelle, Brenda. The others were out the door like my place *was* school and not a beauty salon." The other woman's face fell. "I don't know what to do. This is a very important show. Several of the Newport matrons are bringing the daughters to see gowns for the fall Harvest Ball." "Well, then, how about Michelle?" Caro offered. Both Michelle and Brenda just gaped at her. "Well, she is the prettiest of the lot, you know." she added defensively. "But she is not very tall, and besides. . .*she* is not really a she." Mrs. Franson protested. "And how would I change, Caro. . .all the other women would see that I am wearing falsies, and I couldn't take off my panties. . .they'd see the gaff." "That's no problem. . . we could say you are very shy, and since you agreed to help at the very last minute, Brenda is going to let you change in her office. We'd have to pick outfits that are not cut too low in the bodice, or that are designed not to show a lot of cleavage, but I don't think Brenda would be showing too many outfits like this to the royal mamas anyway. Would you, Brenda?" The other woman's eyes became pensive as she weighed the options and considered the possible consequences. "How are you in heels, Michelle?" "Okay in anything three inches or less, but who said I would do it?" Michelle asked indignantly. "Would you? Please?" Brenda asked softly. "I really am in a bind, and it would be a great favor." Having this woman owe her a favor appealed to Michelle. "I could use your office to change in?" she negotiated. Brenda nodded immediately. Then Michelle turned her eye on Caro. "And since *you* got me into this mess, it is only fair that you come with me and make sure that my makeup, hair and disguise are all perfect, don't you think, Carolyn of Marisha Chalet?" "I'd give your shop a plug during the show." Brenda added quickly to the other woman. "All those women with all that money to spend on their darling daughters." she cajoled. "You could even come out and take a bow afterwards." "Okay, okay." Caro laughed. "Let me get my tools and we'll be there in a few minutes, Brenda. Meanwhile, you select the right dresses for the second coming of Miss Christy Brinkley here and get them into your office." Michelle was shocked speechless when the formerly cold Brenda Franson pulled her into a tight hug, saying "Thank you, Michelle, I really appreciate this." She just stood there, staring, as the dress shop owner hustled back to her store to do as Carolyn had directed. "Oh my god. What have I gotten myself into now?" Excerpt: Michelle's Diary September 2- Day 48 Dear Diary My feet are *killing* me. Unfortunately, when I said I would help Brenda Franson at her store tonight, I didn't know that I would have to choose between only two sizes of shoe. Too large and too small. And since I probably would have walked right out of the larger ones, we had to use the too small pairs. They were only a half size too small, but when they are high heels, that half size is quite a bit. And oh by the way, I measured the heel on those darn things after the show. Four inches, easily. Every frippin' one of them. Still, it actually turned out to be a lot of fun. I got quite a bit of teasing from the professional models, over my "shyness". I mean, they just rush into the main room, pulling stuff off as they run to where the next outfit has been laid out for them. Since they did not know my "shyness" is spelled p. .e. . n. . i. .s, they did not realize what kind of show they were putting on in the dressing room. Good thing I have been wearing that damned gaff to Caro's classes. It *hurt* like a . . .. well, you get the idea. And the dresses were neat. Having Caro come to help was inspired on my part, even if my initial motivation had more to do with fear than with a desire for success. Caro made getting into each outfit a lot easier and her skill with makeup gave me a whole lot more confidence than I would have had if I'd had to do up my face all by myself. Brenda let me miss the first rotation and just watch what the professional models did when they strutted down the walkway in front of the assembly. When that first set of dress showings was about half done, I went back into the dressing room and tried to mimic some of their movements and gestures while having Caro critique me. Moving like that is NOT easy. I think the too small shoes may have helped, though. It is practically impossible to over stride when your toes are screaming. Caro literally had to push me out onto the stage that first time. God, I was as scared then as I ever can remember being. The funny thing is that I was not really afraid of being unmasked. Somehow, I knew I was beautiful and all anyone was going to see was a pretty girl in a lovely dress. No, I was just afraid of messing up. Like tripping over my feet in those infernal heels and ending up in the lap of some society matron. Finally, Caro whispered at me to "MOVE!" and I moved. I am still surprised my legs did not give out on me during that first pass down and back. All I could think of was keeping my head erect and steady so I would not drop Conan-Dolye on my toes. I was shaking all over, but once I made it back to the top of the runway, I started feeling a little better. By the finale, I thought I was actually doing a rather good job of it. I was certainly moving more freely, more confidently, and so what if my hand movements and presentations were not quite as practiced as those of the professionals. Caro said I was the perfect little exhibitionist. I don't know about that, but it sure was fun struttin' my stuff and showing off - frantic, but fun. In fact, after the show, Caro said she'd overheard one of the audience tell Brenda that the "little blond one was perfect. Now I know just what my daughter will look like in that dress and won't have to worry that what I liked was the professional model and not the dress." Made me feel pretty good inside. What made me feel even better was having Brenda come running into the office and practically squeeze the stuffing out of me after the show was over. She had gotten several immediate orders from the show's attendees, and three of them were for dresses I had modeled. She *even* offered to pay me - and then was offended when I told her she did not need to because I already owed her for her help on the Committee. She finally told me that was okay, but the next time, she was paying me at the going rate for models. The *next* time? Well, I guess there will be one. . . maybe more. Brenda is thinking of having the girls from the Wednesday afternoon class take over a lot of her modeling work. Particularly if it involves teenage fashions. I sure would have liked to see Anna in that low cut, off the shoulder blue satin sheath one of the models wore. I have also talked to Jane about Dennis. She said she'd speak to his Mother if I thought that might help, but she felt that my feelings about being kissed were natural and not a problem. Like Caro, she pointed out that I still was aroused by girls. I am relieved, but it is as much for that almost hard-on through the gaff when those models went down to bare skin in front of me as for anything else. Hard physical evidence, don't you think? I am beat. Michelle Nash Jane sat in her garden, enjoying the silence of the warm September night. Brenda had called to ask Jane to thank Michelle again for stepping in and helping her, and to see if Jane could not convince the child to accept at least a modest payment. Jane wondered idly if Michelle fully understood what she had done this day. Probably not. She was probably glowing over the compliments and the attention, and pleased that she had managed to pull off the deception under those conditions. First, the girl had begun to learn real poise under pressure today. Carolyn had said that it was like you could see the girl's confidence in her personal power growing with each new dress and with each trek down and back on the runway. That confidence would pay real dividends in a month or so when her girl had to decide which path she would take - Michael's or Michelle's. But it was the second aspect of today's rite of passage that pleased Jane the most. Even as afraid of being quite so publically under the microscope as Jane knew she was, her girl had been willing to help Brenda. The old Michael, the troublemaking instigator of St. Andrews Academy, would not have been so willing. He certainly would not have turned down payment for his help afterwards. Hell, he would have held her up for every cent he could squeeze out of her, even though he had absolutely no need for the money. No, she had simply decided to help a person that she had reason to hold a grudge against, and had not given the matter another thought after making the decision. That made Jane very proud of her Michelle. A Losing Season: Chapter 26: Just Deserts Excerpt: Michelle's Diary September 30- Day 76 Dear Diary Well, it is less than a week until yours truly must make a decision - whether to stay Michelle and proceed with my plans vis a vis my Mother. Or to let go of that anger and hurt, revert to Michael, and simply get on with my life. I'd rather expected this to be an easier choice, but that is not the case. I feel very at odds with myself over this. For starters, one thing that I thought would push me towards abandoning this charade was living *as* Michelle. I figured it might be difficult and humiliating. With the exception of my three bouts of soap in the mouth syndrome, my life as Michelle has been neither of those things. I guess I have a talent for the role, because I seem to have picked up on most things pretty easily. And of course, I must admit that confronting my Mother with the loss of her son as Michelle still holds a great deal of appeal. I am not so sure I particularly *like* that little home truth about myself, but it remains a fact that I want to do . . . something to her. What Jane and I have planned seems somehow less malicious than showing her up in front of her friends. On the downside, if I stay as Michelle, I am going to have to do something about good old Dennis. The guy will simply not give up. I have tried everything, short of endangering his ability to father future generations, to discourage him, but he just keeps coming on to me. Even when I showed him the "pre-engagement ring" Jane gave to wear, saying it was from David, he still tried to kiss me in the dark corners at his Mother's studio. When I told him that was not very honorable, making a move on another man's girl when he was not around to protect what was his, he just laughed. Said that David was a fool, and a pre-engagement ring is not an engagement ring, so I was still "fair game". Makes me sound like a damned rabbit trying to scurry away and into my rabbit hole. Part of the problem is that I really do like him. He makes me really laugh, and I enjoy laughing. Never did much of it before I came here - not real laughing, that is. Mostly at St. Andrews, the laughter was *at* someone else's expense, and that cheapened the pleasure of it, although I did not know it then. Now I do know, and that is in part due to Dennis. He calls me on the days we don't have dance class. We just talk about stuff, and before I quite know it, we've been at it for almost an hour. It makes Jane smile - one of those smiles that makes the hair on my neck stand on end. For the past few days, he has been bugging me to go with him to his school's Harvest Festival Dance. The dance is in October, a few days after Jane and I are scheduled to be back from Nevada on my "end of trial" holiday as Michael. The scariest part of all this is that my first inclination is to say *yes*. If I went back to being Michael, none of this would be my problem anymore. Michelle would go back to her "home" and Michael would come to stay with his Aunt Jane. Or maybe it would be safer to stay with Eric. Michael is going to look a lot like Michelle for several weeks, and I suspect that my new friends, particularly the Wednesday makeup class, will see through Michael to Michelle instantly. Well, I have again filled pages arguing with myself, and still have come to no conclusion. If this keeps up, I may just stay Michelle because I don't know what else to do. Not a very good reason for a life altering decision, is it? On another issue, by my count, I should have been eating a soap bar days ago. Now, my numbers are usually a bit higher than Aunt Jane's , since I count all my verbal foul ups and she counts only the ones she hears. Still, she should have hit one hundred over a week ago. When Aunt Jane does not hold true to form, that usually means she is up to something. And *that* always makes me very nervous. *VERY* nervous. Michelle Nash Jane sat at her study desk, and stared at the calendar on her desk. October third was circled in wide red marker - the day when Michelle's trial period closed. Only two more days before she found out if she was going to have a niece or a nephew staying with her for the foreseeable future. Jane wasn't sure she knew what she wanted the choice to be, any more than her ward knew. On one hand, it was probably best for the child to see this thing through to the very end, no matter how painful its consequences might be for everyone concerned. And for herself, Jane admitted, she *liked* having this Michelle around the place. She *liked* Michelle. Conversely, Michelle would be showing a great deal of maturity if she abandoned her spiteful quest against her Mother. *If* she abandoned it because she had decided that she no longer wanted or needed to get even. Jane's fear was that Michelle might decide to abandon the game because of the continued attentions of Dennis. She had to hand it to that young man, he certainly was tenacious. It was a good thing he lived locally or Jane's monthly phone bills would be whoppers given all the time the two teens spent talking with each other on the phone. Jane's little Michelle had developed quite a crush on that lad, only she was afraid of what she felt for Dennis and therefore refused to admit or acknowledge her feelings. She might just become Michael again to end that fear. And that would be the worst possible reason. Jane had already made preliminary inquiries on a scheme she had developed to help Michelle and Michael get some needed emotional distance and balance. Unfortunately, they needed to be on their vacation for her plan to work, and again unfortunately, that came after Michelle's decision date. "Aunt Jane?" The quiet voice shook Jane out of her reveries, and she looked up to see Michelle peaking around the cracked open study door. "May I come in?" Jane beckoned her in, and then was somewhat surprised to see that Michelle was wearing one of Michael's exercise warm up suits. "Aunt Jane, I'd like to call one our timeouts, please." her ward said in the deeper tones of Michael's speaking voice. Jane did not want to grant this request because she was afraid she knew what he wanted to say. Still, she motioned him to one of the easy chairs and came over to join him. "All right, Michael. What is it you wish to discuss?" Michael opened a book that Jane recognized as the diary she had given Michelle at the beginning of their trial. "Aunt Jane, according to my figures, which have been running only a few counts ahead of yours until now, you are overdue in calling Michelle to accounts for unfeminine language and behaviors." Momentarily speechless, Jane could only stare at her ward. "You. . .you want to be disciplined? You want me to wash your mouth out with soap like a naughty bad mouthed little child?" "Hel. . . I mean, heck no, Aunt Jane. I hate that, but it was part of the deal we made, and a reminder I have decided I need if I am going to learn to overcome Michelle's bad case of potty mouth." "Why should you care, Michael? Two more days and you can take off the skirts without breaking your word, and then it does not matter, beyond basic courtesy, what you say." Michael sat very still at that moment, his grey-green eyes locked on Jane's. After a few moments of this, Jane found she had to consciously refrain from fidgeting under her ward's intense gaze. "So that's why." he finally said in a very soft undertone. "You aren't doing it because you don't want my mouth filled with soap bubbles at the moment I have to open it to tell you my decision." Jane broke eye contact with Michael and looked away. "Isn't that the reason, Aunt Jane?" Michael pressed. Finally, she sighed deeply, and then nodded. "You might still have demons, Michael, that only Michelle can help you exorcize. I did not want you making a poor decision because you were reacting angrily to one of my disciplines. Whatever decision you make, I want it to be made rationally, not emotionally." "I understand now." Michael looked down at the book and Jane thought he might be reading some passage in the book. She wished she knew what it said and what he was thinking at that moment. "Suppose, Aunt Jane, I told you that I have already made my decision - that I am absolutely certain what I am going to do. What would you say to that?" His aunt gave him a resigned smile. "I would say that it is completely in character for someone with the iron will I have seen in both you and Michelle. Knowing you both, I expect that there is no way your mind is going to change?" Michael only shook his head, his eyes firm. "Well, why don't we just end the trial here and now, then. I don't think there's any sense delaying for another two days. If you want to discard your skirts, I will have Maria go up and move all the fripperies out this afternoon." "You mean that, don't you?" he asked wonderingly. "I gave you my word, dear. I don't see much point in continuing another two days just to keep you as Michelle for that length of time. I am going to miss having her around, but I look forward to getting to know my nephew, too." "Well, that is a shame." Michael muttered. "Because I am going to stay as Michelle. I haven't finished what I set out to do three months ago, and I am not ready to give up on that goal just yet. I am not so sure of what I am going to do as I was back then, but one thing I do know - only Michelle can do what must needs be done." Jane rose and went back over to stand by her desk. "I see. You are sure?" Michael nodded. "Very well, Michael. We will continue as we have, then. Are we finished with this timeout, then?" she asked. "Yes, Aunt Jane, thank you." and this time the voice that responded was Michelle. She rose and turned to leave the study. "Oh, Michelle?" Jane called as her ward reached the door. Michelle half turned back to her aunt, a single brow lifted in silent inquiry. Jane lifted a familiar notebook and glanced at the pages. "You have accumulated sufficient demerits since your last discipline for two sessions. I will expect you in my room at 9:30 tonight for the first session. We will take care of the second one tomorrow evening at the same time." She watched, amused as first surprise, then anger and finally resignation flitted across Michelle's mobile features. "We still do need to smooth out your rough edges, dear." Jane said softly, but without a hint of apology. "Nine thirty. I will be there, Aunt Jane." she turned away only to stop one last time. "And thank you." She left before Jane could even frame a response. Excerpt: Michelle's Diary October 3- Day 79 Dear Diary I am sitting here, my mouth full of suds, waiting for the final minutes to tick by so that I can go rinse the soap out of my mouth. Aunt Jane told me she trusted my sense of honor to follow the rules and not to cleanse my palette before my sentence is completely served. So now I am the instrument of my own punishment. And all I need to do in order to get relief is to break my promise. Sometimes, honor stinks - or as in tonight's case, leaves a very bad taste in your mouth. sigh. In the end, I made the decision to stay Michelle because it is the only choice that leaves my options open. Frankly, I cannot decide what I want to do. Once I reach that decision, I will know what path to take. All I know is that changing back to Michael permanently ends the plan. I cannot quit and then go back and say, I want to do it again - let me be Michelle again. That is not fair to Jane. Besides, if I am going to do this thing, I need all the practice, all the learning that I can get. And if I finally decide that I no longer want to show my Mother the error of ignoring Michael and then creating Michelle, then having lived another few months as Michelle, or even a few years as Michelle will not have hurt anyone. The only one who loses anything by that decision is Michael and he. . .that is, *I* don't mind being Michelle all that much any more. I mean, I have more friends as Michelle, in the girls at Caro's, and especially Anna, then Michael could have laid claim to in his entire life B.J.T. (Before Jane Thompson). Real people who like *me* and not the size of my father's fortune. And it is not as if I cannot go to school as Michelle, because Jane assures me that I can - We just have to find a way around the School Nurse and physical education. Both of which Jane has promised me are not really obstacles. I am relieved to have that decision done and over with. Now if I could just figure out what I am going to do about Dennis and that infernal school dance. I guess this is where I play Scarlet O'Hara and say I will worry about it tomorrow. Or more correctly, after I get back from Tahoe. I really need the break! Michelle Nash End Part 7 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----