Message-ID: <15753eli$9809300631@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: New TG: A Losing Season 8 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 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: <36127d1f.3659884@news.erols.com> A Losing Season - An Alternative Ending to Seasons of Change Part VIII 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 27. Vacation in the Mountains Michael and Jane slipped out of the house before dawn for the trip to Providence where they would catch their flight. Jane had decided on the early morning departure primarily to ensure that her ward was not seen by any of the locals as Michael now that he was well known as Michelle. The return flight was also chosen to have them arriving back home well after dark for the same reason. She also wanted to arrive in Reno in time to rent a car and still arrive at their rented cabin on Lake Tahoe during daylight. Jane had been in the desert mountains at night and did not relish doing it again. As she maneuvered her Lincoln up US Route 1 towards the interstate, she considered her passenger critically. He was, as they had both anticipated, somewhat effeminate in both manner and bearing. Although Caro had worked on his face, hiding the finely arched brows and shadowing the smooth soft skin, other things were more difficult to disguise. Michael had to consciously remind himself to swing his arms and not his hips when he walked. After all his recent experiences wearing mostly high heeled shoes, he also tended to walk toe to heel instead of heel to toe. His body language, which was even harder to control, was extremely feminine and Jane knew she'd have to keep a close eye on him so that he would not give too much away when they were out in public. Additionally, he had a tendency to slip into Michelle's voice whenever he forgot that he was supposed to be Michael on this trip. All things considered, it was just as well that they were going to be almost three thousand miles from home in a relatively rural area during the off season. October was not Tahoe's best season. Too soon for the skiers, and too cold for the campers and boaters. That, along with one other aspect of their vacation location, made the place perfect for Jane's purposes. Michael would be able to relax and let down his guard without the danger of being recognized, and hopefully, he'd learn some important lessons that would stand him in good stead later on in his life. They arrived at the airport at just the right time. They were able to go directly to their loading gate without having to wait outside the security area. The less time spent in open parts of the airport where someone might recognize her and come over to chat, the better. The loading onto the airplane, the flight and the arrival in Reno went off without incident. Shortly after ten in the morning, local time, Michael was happily behind the wheel of the four wheel drive sports utility vehicle that Jane had reserved. Driving was a pleasure that he could not afford to do as Michelle because for all Jane's many judge contacts, getting a driver's license for her ward in his feminine persona had been impossible. And Michelle could not take the chance of being stopped by a police officer. Even a routine safety stop by the police would require Michelle to present her license, which showed a young man, not a young woman. They arrived in Tahoe around two pm and went immediately to the realtor who managed the rental cabin in which they'd would be spending the next week. After obtaining the key and directions to the cabin, they stopped at a supermarket for supplies. Jane carefully watched the people who came in contact with Michael. He slipped up in his masculine behaviors several times, but no one seemed to take much notice. She expected that vacation escapees from San Francisco had inured the locals to differently behaved people. The cabin was beautiful, and the surrounding vistas were even better. Located up a mountainside, they only had a short walk through a forest of mountain trees to be able to see the lake. The only drawback was the temperature, which was topping out at fifty degrees F during the day, and dropping into the thirties and twenties at night. They would not be doing any swimming on this trip, which was actually all to the best. Michelle's bathing suit tan had not yet faded from Michael's torso. Night comes early and dark in the mountains, but both travelers were exhausted from the travel and from the eighteen hour day they'd had in two time zones. Nine p.m. local time saw them both in their beds, sound asleep. Excerpt: Michelle's Diary October 5 - Day 81 Dear Diary It feels strange to be writing in this thing and not be dressed in Michelle's finery. Still, I think I am going to keep up with these entries. Mostly because if I ever do become a research psychiatrist, these observations, untrained though they are, might be of value some how. The second reason is kind of funny, really. It has become a habit to write things down in here. Little victories and little defeats. Things that make me feel good or happy, and things that make me feel low or sad. I actually picked it up to start writing without even thinking about it. Come to think of it . . .I don't remember packing it. I wonder if I did, or if Maria did it for me? No matter. I am glad it is here. Wonder if I should lead off entries with something other than "dear diary". The sounds awfully "Michelle-ish" for Michael to be doing. What would I call it - a journal? Ahhh, what's the point? Surely I am too far along to feel threatened by how I write in my diary. Sure feels almost uncomfortable to be wearing cotton jockey shorts instead of Michelle's dainties. As for my other clothes, well, let's just say the Sonja has had the desired effect. I have lost about 10 pounds and have tightened up what's left. And on my small frame and height, that is a significant amount of weight. I had to punch extra holes in one of my belts just to keep my jeans from falling off me. A fashion plate or a candidate for a GQ cover I am definitely NOT. That's probably all right, since I keep slipping up and putting on Michelle without even thinking about it. Sometimes I caught myself; sometimes Jane pointed out my little femme habits. At least if no one particularly notices me, they won't look at me long enough to realize that my movement, body language and attitudes can shift to those of my female persona. Of course, I saw several folks at the market who were far more gaudy and swishy than I. It is just a little annoying that now that I do not have to worry about being on stage as Michelle, it is Michael that is becoming the role that requires conscious thought to pull off. I am beat. Gonna go to bed. Michael Nash. Jane set down the phone well pleased with her arrangements. They'd been in Tahoe for three days, and it was time for the other part of her plan. She'd waited this long because she wanted Michael to become just a little more natural in his male role. Now the arrangements had been made for tomorrow morning. Actually, it had gone better than she had hoped. In the kitchen, she could hear Michael humming to himself as he prepared their evening meal. One thing was certain, if Michael was to be Michelle for any length of time, Jane would have to insist that she take Home Ec when she returned to school. It was all right for Jane not to be able to cook, but Michelle needed to learn. Especially if she was going to feed Jane. After their meal, Jane helped with the cleaning up and then motioned Michael into the small living room. "Michael, tomorrow I have planned a surprise for you. We need to be on the road bright and early, so you might want to get to bed early tonight." "A surprise, Aunt Jane?" the young man wheedled. "What is it?" "It's a surprise, silly. One you will find out about when we get to where we are going. Now, go to bed." Michael's grousing was good humored, and he surprised Jane by planting a small kiss on her cheek before he went up to his bed in the cabin's loft. Excerpt: Michelle's Diary October 8 - Day 84 Dear Diary So Aunt Jane is planning a surprise for me. A few months ago, the mere hint of an "Aunt Jane's surprise" would have terrified me. Now, I'm looking forward to it with pleasant anticipation - like I know it is going to be a *good* surprise. It's a good thing that this high, thin mountain air tires you out so much. I would have hard time sleeping if I wasn't so beat from Jane's and my hike around the surrounding landscape today. God, but it is beautiful up here. Seems so very far away from my life and problems. I like it. Michael Nash ~-----------~ Somewhat to his disappointment, Jane insisted on driving them when the departed the cabin. "I know where we are going, and I don't want you to know until we get there." she said teasingly. Michael had spent the greater part of he morning mulling over what Aunt Jane had planned. It wasn't a day at the casinos. He wasn't eighteen yet, and so could not even play the slots legally. Besides, he knew the route they had taken from Reno, and Jane had not taken that turn. The trip took about two hours, and by the time she made the final turn onto the access road of their destination, Michael was in a high dudgeon over her refusal to tell him anything. They reached a sign that read "Mustang Ranch" and then came to a gate with a small guard shack next to it. A portly man in a generic security uniform stepped out and came to the car. Jane rolled the window down and announced, "Jane Thompson. I believe your employer is expecting me." The man quickly checked a clipboard, nodded Jane a quick salutation, and opened the gate. "Mustang Ranch, Aunt Jane? Am I going to learn how to ride?" Michael asked. "In a manner of speaking, Michael." was Jane's faintly amused response. Michael smiled at the idea. As surprises went, this one was at least different. He might have preferred something else, like taking in a Vegas-style floor show, but this could be fun, too. Jane parked the car in front of a huge, rambling house that looked like it had seen many spur of the moment additions over its lifetime. Spires, dormers, octagonal towers were seemingly thrown together haphazardly in whatever place that might have had room for the addition. The result was a place that looked like a white clapboard combination castle and ranch house. Michael started to get out, but Jane caught his arm. "Michael," she said firmly, "When we go inside, I want you to do exactly what you are told because if you are going to learn, you ought to learn well. However, secondly and most importantly, I want you to have fun. This is supposed to fun for everyone involved." Confused, Michael nodded his agreement but could not help wondering how much fun a horse could have when dealing with an inexperienced rider. As they exited the car, a petite woman with gray shot black hair came out on the porch. She was dressed in a fine blue linen business suit and beckoned the pair of them to come up onto the porch. "Hello there, folks. I'm Jean. You'd be Ms. Thompson?" she asked with a welcoming smile on her face. Jane took the lady's hand and returned the smile. "Yes, and this is my nephew, Michael." She offered her hand to Michael and he also shook her hand. "Well, c'mon in. Everything's ready." and she took them both by their arms and walked into the strange house. Inside the front door was an unusually large sitting room with seating all around the periphery of the room, as well as several small conversation groupings in the center of the room. A door on the wall opposite the entry way opened. Michael turned to see who was entering and did a classic double take. The woman who entered the room was very tall, easily five inches taller than his own five feet six inches if she had been bare foot. She wasn't. In her spiked heels, which Michael guessed had to be more than four inches, she stood almost a foot taller than he did. The rest of her was in perfect proportion to her height. Physically, she was a very pretty woman. Her hair was long, and a deep golden blonde. She wore some light cosmetics, but she had a lovely complexion that really did not require much in the way of artificial enhancement. She wore a one piece mint green sweater dress that suited her and showed off her incredible legs. My god, Michael thought, his mouth going dry. Change her hair to silver blond and she is a dead ringer for Sonja. Aware of her effect on the young man, the woman sauntered over to where he stood with the other two women. "Michael?" Jean said. "This is Karen. She will be your instructor today. Now, you have the entire day, thanks to your Aunt's generosity, so pay attention and enjoy yourself." "How do you do, Karen." Michael said with a lump in his throat. Was she going to change for the lesson? "And howdy to you, too, Michael." She answered, a small smile on her lips. Her voice was low, husky and had just a touch of a western accent. Michael was entranced by her. "Well, shall we get started?" she asked, as she took his hand and began to lead him away. "I will be here when you are finished, Michael." Jane called to him just before they disappeared through the same door Karen had entered from. "Have fun, dear." The two women stood there for a moment before Jean turned to Jane. "Y'know," she drawled. "As I told you on the phone, Ms. Jane, Karen isn't exactly my first choice for a cherry picking. Don't get me wrong - she's good at what she does - very good, in fact. Your boy will have a great time, but she isn't likely to get much out of it. That is usually a part of this type of thing - lettin' the boy know when he's done it right." Jane smiled enigmatically. "Well, I hope you are wrong, but Michael has a huge crush on a lady back home who looks very much the same as your Karen, which is part of the reason I picked her from your brochure." And I can't tell you the other reason which is that I wanted her all the more once Jean had explained why Karen was not her first choice. She really rather hoped Michael was up to the task. And if he wasn't, he'd still have a very nice experience if the lady was as skilled as Jean had promised. Probably, even if she wasn't that skilled, given the volatility of youth. ~------------~ Michael was a little confused when Karen led him up a long flight of stairs to a sumptuously furnished bedroom in one of the octagonal towers. His first thought was that there certainly enough mirrors in the place. He turned to see Karen regarding him levelly, that little half smile still curving her mouth. Unnerved by her scrutiny, Michael began to blather. "Ummm. . . did we come up here so you could change?" he asked. The smile widened a bit. "Sounds like a good start to me, Michael." "Okay." he answered her as he turned away from her to find a place to wait for her to go off and change. "Is what I wearing suitable? Aunt Jane did not tell me what she'd planned so I did not ask what to wear." "Oh, I think we can do a bit better than that, lover." she crooned. and then almost stopped Michael's heart as she pulled the sweater dress up over her head and then stood before him in nothing but very slinky, very black lingerie. "Ummmm. . . K.K.Karen. .. " Michael he stuttered. "Have you forgotten I am in the room with you? You are undressed." A soft laugh bubbled up from her, as she began slinking towards him, her eyes fixed on his. "Well, darlin', it is pretty difficult for you to make love to me with all those clothes on. Now. . let's get you out of yours." "Out of my clothes? HERE???" She had her hand on his belt. "Well, it is usually best to do it in a bed the first time, but if you want, we can try some other places once you get the basics down." and then she pulled his much smaller frame into a tight embrace as she gave him his first tongue kiss from a woman. It finally dawned on Michael that the only mustang on this ranch was painted on the sign outside the main gate. Aunt Jane had hired this lady to make love with him. . .no, not quite. . .Karen was supposed to teach him how to make love. Michael was not quite sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was nude and lying on the huge bed with Karen's long, lovely body curled around him. Her fist had his cock in a firm, yet gentle grip as she stroked him to full erection while her mouth did incredible things to secret places behind his ears and the pulse points of his neck. Caught up in a wild maelstrom of feeling and emotion, Michael felt the sudden tightening in his guts and the uncontrollable twitching that heralded the onset of his climax. Karen felt it, too. "Well, if we're going to get anywhere today, we have got to get you a little less. . .jumpy." she whispered throatily as she sat up beside him. Michael expected her to continue the exquisite hand job, but instead, she bent over his dick and then inhaled him whole. The sudden wet, sucking heat felt so incredibly wonderful, Michael's eyes crossed in pleasure. But the immediate pleasure was only momentary for within moments of her taking him in her mouth, he was jetting his seed into her mouth. Michael simply laid there on the bed with Karen stroking him as he gathered his shattered wits. Then, he was disappointed because it had been so wonderful, but so short. Karen saw him frown. "Hey, whatsamatter?" she asked softly. He felt like crying, but managed to control that. "It didn't last long enough. I barely knew what was happening and then it was over." A knowing smile lit her eyes as she began to stroke him more seriously. "Honey," she told him as she kissed him again, "It isn't over 'cause it hasn't even started yet." This time her kiss was oddly salty, but certainly not unpleasant. In fact, it was *very* pleasant. It was not until much later that he realized the source of that saline flavor, and by then, it simply did not matter. She soon had him fully aroused again, and after showing him how to protect himself and her, guided him into her body. As great as it had felt when she had taken him into his mouth, it could not begin to compare to this. They spent the next two hours making love in a variety of ways and positions. He let her guide him, let her teach him how to stroke into her slowly, and then pull out so that he rubbed against her clitoris. She set the initial rhythm, but slowly let him take charge. He learned how to use his hands and mouth on her as both foreplay and as part of the actual intercourse. A Losing Season: Chapter 28. A Coming of Age About one in the afternoon, they took a break when Michael needed to satisfy a more basic hunger. He had not eaten since a very light breakfast over five hours before and was positively ravenous. As with every other need he'd experienced that day, the lovely Karen had anticipated this need, too. She left for a few moments before returning with a tray piled high with tiny sandwiches, sliced fruit and other snack type foods. So this is what they mean by afterglow, Michael thought to himself. And it really was a thoroughly unique experience, feeling so mellow, eating finger foods while laying naked in bed cuddled up next to a living Goddess. He felt great - never better, except. . . Except what, he asked himself, aware for the first time that something did not feel quite right. Somehow, something niggled at him at the back of his mind. There was something wrong. No, not wrong, rather there was something missing, but he couldn't seem to pinpoint what it could possibly be. Hadn't they just spent hours making love to each other, giving pleasure to each other. . . . He looked at the woman nibbling delicately at the hors d'oerves beside him. She did not look like he felt - there wasn't any glow about her. That was IT! *He'd* received pleasure. He had reached orgasm, but he could not recall anything like that happening to Karen. Didn't women have orgasms, too? Surely, they must or else the human race would not be overpopulating the planet. So why hadn't she reached her pleasure with him? Was he really *that* inept? She hadn't said so, but then again, would she say so? She might be concerned about the reputation of the house if he did not go away feeling like *the* man. Dammit, that pleasure had been too wonderful not to share with the person who had given it so selflessly to him. Michael wanted, *needed* her to enjoy being with him, not endure being with him. Step one, he thought, was to find out why. "So, Karen . . " he started off handedly, "What do I have to do to give *you* pleasure." The bite of food stopped midway between her plate and her open mouth. She slid him a look beneath her lashes, before setting the tidbit back down. "What makes you think you didn't?" she asked with a bit of a tremor in her voice. Gotcha, he thought. "Oh, the fact that you didn't immediately deny it." Michael said in what he hoped was a reasonable semblance of Jane's equanimity. "That and the fact that I don't recall any reactions from you that remotely approached what you produced in me. So, Karen, what did I do wrong?" Karen's face fell, and she bounded off the bed. Michael was after her immediately and had caught up to her before she could make it out the door. He was shocked to see tears streaming down her face. Gently, he pried her fingers from door knob and pulled her back to the bed. "Okay, Karen. what is the matter?" She just shook her head. "You did nothing wrong, Michael. Its just that. . . well, this is your first time, and it is supposed to be wonderful. . .*perfect*," she said just before the tears came harder. "And if you are one of those special guys who needs to give as well as take, you won't find that with me. Please, let me call Jean. She'll get you another girl and you'll see. You are easily one of the most considerate young men I have ever been with, and you will see how well you do once she is here instead of me." "And if I want to be with you? If it is you I want to pleasure?" Michael asked quietly. He watched as her beautiful strong body was racked by sobs. He wanted to comfort her, but needed to know the facts. Finally, she regained control and looked him in the eyes. "Look, Michael. You've learned very quickly and you're really quite a cute guy - but. . ." When she hesitated to go further, Michael pressed. "But, what?" Karen shook her head, her lips compressed tightly, like she was trying to prevent the words from escaping her mouth. "Please, Karen - tell me - so I will at least know the truth." Her shoulders slumped. "All right. You are really cute for a guy, Michael, but that is the problem. You *are* a guy. I enjoy making love with guys. I find pleasure in giving them pleasure, but I can't seem to reach orgasm with a guy." It was not the strangest thing Michael had ever heard. It surely did not even come close to a house where boys became girls so they'd become better men. Or where a boy became a girl to wreak retribution on his Mother. "So, tell me. What does get you off, darlin'?" She gave him a very disgusted "what do you think" look. "Girls, Michael. Pretty, petite girls in frilly, slinky lingerie. I guess it is because I am so gigantic,. ." Michael interrupted her. "Tall, stacked, gorgeous. I don't want to hear you put yourself down like that!" Surprised by his outburst, she gave him a momentary, shy smile before continuing, ". .since I am so *tall*, I like the little ones. They make me very hot." Michael could see her bracing herself for a putdown. He only smiled. "So, tell me, Karen. Any of your girlfriends got some stuff that would fit me?" Her stunned, unbelieving stare was just about as satisfying as anything else he'd experienced yet today. "You mean. . . girl things? You want to dress up and see if that would help get me really aroused?" Michael nodded, and then watched the emotions flit across her face as she considered that. "Have you ever tried it like that with a guy? Dressed as a girl, I mean." "N. . n...no." she said, a considering look in her suddenly intensely dark eyes. "And you would qualify as petite next to me." She thought about it some more. "But I don't think any of the girls would like it very much if I let you borrow any of their dainties, but there is the stuff down in the dungeon." There was just a touch of "put up or shut up" challenge in her demeanor now as she stood to her full height and fixed her eyes on Michael. Not quite sure he had heard her correctly, Michael swallowed hard. "What did you say? The dungeon?" Michael was a little less certain, now. Karen laughed for the first time since they'd started lunch. "We have a couple of girls on staff here at the Ranch who sexually dominate guys. You know, tying them up, spanking their bare butts and generally teasing the hell out of them before they finally let the guy get his rocks off. It has gotten pretty popular, particularly with the one time trade, so Jean converted a big part of the cellar into a dungeon. One of the games a lot of guys really like is to be forced to wear girl clothes and being then to be treated like a sissy- slave, so there is a big closet full of man-sized female clothing down there. Jean said that for what your Aunt is shelling out for today, we could have the run of the place. You ready to put her money where your mouth is, Michael?" she challenged. He just grinned. She hadn't said that *she* was one of those dominating women, so he figured he'd be safe down there. Hopefully. Standing up, Michael offered his hands to her. "Lead me away, Ma'am. I am ready." Fifteen minutes later (Michael'd had no interest in staying in the aptly named dungeon *any* longer than necessary), they were back in Karen's room, loaded down with everything from a gaff to a corset to breast inserts to fine hosiery to press on fingernails. One small problem was the selection of shoes stocked in the dungeon closet. Unfortunately, the only shoes they'd had that fit him had spiked heels at least five inches high. Michael wasn't all that sure just how much walking he could manage in those stilts, but decided that he'd at least give them a try. If this worked, he did not expect to be on his feet all that much anyway. Karen helped him into the corset and gaff, lacing both up tight, and was getting ready to help him with the rest of his transformation when Michael shoo-ed her into a chair. "Just watch." he grinned at her. And Karen *did* watch - stared at him, in fact, in open- mouthed amazement as he went over to her vanity and began his practiced transformation into Michelle. In very short order, he had teased his still short hair into a sassy, close cropped arrangement of curls. He put on a show for her when he slipped on the smokey stockings, trying his best to imitate the teasing pose he'd remembered from some lingerie shoot in a magazine. Extending his leg to the fullest and pointing his toes, he slowly unrolled and then smoothed the silk hose over each of his legs in turn. As he stood to attach the corset's garters, he stole a peek at his soon-to-be lover's reflection in the vanity's mirror and understood for the first time the phrase "Smoke coming out of her ears". The look on her face was . . . interesting - very interesting. Her wide open eyes were fixated on his most subtle movement, and a light sheen of perspiration made her face seem to glow in the sun dappled light. She couldn't keep her hands still, and was ringing them in an effort to keep them in her lap. Every little bit, her nose would flare and the tip of her pink tongue would slip out to moisten lips dried by her deep, almost panting breathing. Michael smiled, very pleased with himself as he sat down again, and began expertly applying Karen's cosmetics to his face. The colors weren't quite right for him, but they'd do in a pinch. Michael wasn't after a particularly classy look in any case. When he stood and stepped into those incredible heels, Karen's eyes looked glazed as she took in the entire picture. "My god, Michael. . " she breathed. He was surprised her breath did not singe him with the fire he saw in her eyes. The need in her voice and on her face made Michael shiver in delight. "No, Karen." Michelle's voice answered softly as she sauntered over to where Karen sat, transfixed on the bed and offered her lover her red nailed hand. "My name is Michelle, and I think you still have a great deal to teach me, lover." With an almost anguished moan of desire, Karen pulled Michelle down onto the bed beside her and ravaged her young lover's mouth with a hungry kiss. ~-----------~ It was well after six in the evening when the two lovers made their weary way back down to the main reception area. There were more people there now. . .men as well as the women mingling, getting to know each other a bit before going up (or down, Michael mused thinking of that dungeon) to the rooms. Michael noticed one relatively short, very voluptuous redhead decked out from head to toe in a electric purple latex body suit that seemed to have been sprayed onto her all over her body. Handcuffs, a paddle and a multi-stranded whip swung loosely from a belt around her waist, obviously ready for immediate use. Michael wondered idly if he should thank her for the loan of the lingerie, but decided against it. She might get the wrong idea and while he found her to be. . . . unexpectedly sexy and very intriguing, he knew that he was NOT ready for that. Maybe someday, though, he thought taking one last sideways look at the domination specialist. Maybe someday. They found Jane reading in parlor room of the house's private living quarters. Both of the older women took in the looks of absolute satiation on the faces of both young people. "I take it you both had a good time?" Jane asked. "Mmmmm. . ..Oh yes." Karen purred. "This man is very, very good," and she almost leered at Michael who was blushing profusely. "Very, *very* special." Jane almost laughed at the stunned look on Jean's face because there was absolutely no doubt that Karen meant every word. "Ready to head back to the cabin, Michael?" Jane asked with a smile. He nodded. They exchanged farewells, but not before Karen swept Michael almost off his feet with her good bye hug and kiss. Jean could only stare at him, a mixture of disbelief and awe on her attractive features. "Michael? Sweetie?" he looked up into Karen's sparkling eyes. "Let me know when you are in town next, and I will take a day off to show you around some. Among *other* things." "You bet, Karen. It's a date." Michael called as he hurried to catch up with Jane. As they walked out the door, Jane handed him a packaged, pre- moistened towelette. "You missed a bit of your eye shadow, dear." she teased. "Wouldn't do for it to be there when we stop at that truck stop for dinner, now would it." Michael was in complete agreement on that score. ~------------~ Excerpt: Michelle's Diary October 9 - Day 85 Dear Diary Curioser and curioser. On the way home, Jane told me what was behind all this. Since I had decided to stay Michelle, she wanted me to know the male side of the equation before I go back to skirts. She wanted me to have something to compare against if I ever slip up and get hot and heavy with a guy. She has *got* to be kidding. Strangely, Jane was not surprised at all when I told her about Karen's orientation and how I had switched to Michelle halfway through the day. I know she saw the traces of my cosmetics, but somehow, I don't think that is the whole of it. It is the same kind of feeling I got when I intuited that Karen was not getting the same pleasure out of our lovemaking before Michelle arrived on the scene. There is something here, some little tidbit of information that I don't quite know and that Jane does. So what else is new? Oh man, the *look* of on Karen's face as I started putting on Caro's special heavy "stalking makeup" like I knew what I was doing was absolutely priceless. Wish I'd had a camera. I will have to tell Carolyn that I used that cosmetics lesson after all. She'll be so pleased to be able to tell me "I told you so." Of course, I don't think she meant for me to use it to stalk a woman. Okay. . . so how do I feel about losing my virginity and then having to shift to Michelle before my partner got any satisfaction out of my lovemaking? How do I feel about being the submissive partner during Karen's and my afternoon of lovemaking? It is really strange. If I had thought about this situation in advance, I would have thought I'd be upset that I wasn't "good" enough for her, and maybe even a little ashamed that I couldn't get her off "like a man". Well, as that Jim Croce song that Jane is always playing goes "But that's not the way it feels." It feels pretty damned good. I was right that something was missing - the pleasure wasn't mutual - it was all one sided. Once I became Michelle and surrendered to her (admittedly, dammit) greater strength, Karen became very excited. The loving was infinitely better. The feeling that I held her total pleasure, her entire being on the tip of my tongue or in my fingers is . . . empowering. And if I truly gave her that kind of pleasure, how can I be not be a "man"? I wasn't diminished by giving her Michelle. I think I would have been diminished if I had continued only taking and not giving in return as Michael. It felt good. How can anything that feels that good between two people, that harms no one, be anything but good? Answer: It can only be good. Better than good. I don't think I would ever hesitate again, to do what it took to pleasure my lover. Umm. . . well, thinking of that gal with the cuffs and whips, decked out in that latex thing? I might have to think once or twice or even thrice about that one. I think there would need to be a foundation of serious trust there before I could let someone take that kind of power over me. I wonder if that is a leftover reaction to my first experiences with Jane when she was so domineering and so intent on my humiliation? Maybe. Maybe with Karen - that would be different. Wouldn't that gorgeous, leggy woman look dangerously sexy in one of those shiny latex full body suit things? I wonder if she does that stuff from time to time? In any case, it is time for Michael/Michelle to go to bed. I am *beat*. But it is a very nice kind of beat. Michael Nash ~-----------~ Jane sat in front of the fire, a very self satisfied smile lighting her lips. Her boy/girl had taken a big step towards being a real man this day. He had opened himself to ridicule and embarrassment in order to help meet the special needs of another person, putting that person's needs and desires ahead of his own. And in doing so, had received even more in return. A very good day, indeed. She was very proud of her boy. Very proud, indeed. End Part 8 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----