Message-ID: <15789eli$9810010537@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: New TG: A Losing Season 13 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: <3617aee6.884909@news.erols.com> A Losing Season - An Alternative Ending to Seasons of Change Part XIII 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 36. The Future and Decisions, Again. Jane looked at the woefully lonely figure sitting alone outside in her cold, desolate, January garden. Somehow, the man and the setting fit together, she thought sadly. Michael had been like this since his return from Eric's home earlier in the month. He had not said more than six uninterrupted words to her at one time since he stepped off the plane in Providence. Well, except for that late night confrontation the day after his return. Jane had been sitting in the music room, pretending to read a book, when Michael had entered the room, obviously upset. In very short order, both their short fuses had flashed and a shouting match had ensued. Michael had demanded to know why they had kept the provisions of his father's will from him. Jane had responded that she had been concerned that, after his near death, he was not ready to know the real reasons his Mother had put him under her care. When he'd started down the path he chose in retaliation, it became even more clear that he was not ready to hear the truth that his Mother *did* in fact love him, and regretted what she had done in trying to preserve his inheritance. "And just who gave you the right to make that decision for me?? How on earth can you *ever* rationalize the fact that you promised me honesty and gave me lies?" Jane's tenuous grip on her composure had cracked and then broken on that one. "The fact that I *LOVED* you gave me that right. You were not ready to know the truth, mentally or emotionally, and I was afraid *that* particular truth might tip you over the edge again. So, I kept the truth from you. When you decided to get even with your Mother, I had to keep more from you, because I was afraid of what you might do if you found out she was still involved in your rehabilitation." Jane had sprung from her seat and stormed over to get nose to nose with Michael. "Rationalize?" she'd all but screamed. "I don't have to rationalize. I love you, Michael-Michelle Nash, and I felt that, as your guardian, I had to try and find a way to help you past the remnants of your rage against me and against your Mother. All right, I meant well, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Well, Michael, when I took you to South Hampton, and then walked into that parlor with you Mother, I went into that fiery pit by way of a four lane super highway of my own making." "I don't understand that kind of love." Michael had screamed back, making the word 'love' into a four letter curse. After her tirade, Jane had regained control. "I am sure that you don't, Michael, but it was love nonetheless. And I still *do* love you, young man. I just pray that one day, you will be able to say that to me and to your Mother." Michael had then stormed out of the room and up to his bed chamber. Except for sporadic meals, he had not come back out for almost five days. When he had finally left his bedroom, he had been then as he was now. Quiet, taciturn and moody; a man locked within himself, or perhaps a man locked in a fight with himself. ~-----------~ Michael sat in the cold January sunlight, once again reviewing his only extended conversation, well, screaming match, with Aunt Jane. Telling him that she had done it for his own good. Garbage, he thought, pure and simple garbage. He asked himself again for what had to be the thousandth time, how could lying to someone *ever* be for the good of the one not being told the truth. Oh, he could understand how a lie might be to the advantage of the person telling the untruth. He'd done more than a bit of that in his time. Well, when he had kids, and he was determined he was going to have them, if only so he could prove to his Mother, to his Father's ghost and to himself that he could do correctly what they had not, *he'd* never lie to his kids. Not ever. He would never convince himself that less than the truth was "in their best interests". Wouldn't he? ~-------------~ The phone rang, breaking her line of thought. Jane sighed, picked up the receiver and spoke into the phone. "Oh. Hi Barb. No, nothing has really changed. He just sits out there and stares at my garden wall. "What's that? Of *course* we're keeping a close eye on him. *We* love him, too, you know. I *won't* lose him again, Barbara. "Oh, yes, he is eating all right, as long as Maria or I drag him to the table and threaten to hand stuff him. "No, his dress hasn't changed either. He is still wearing whatever he pulls out of the closet first, whether that is jeans, a running suit or a dress. He doesn't wear any lingerie or inserts now, so he looks pretty androgynous. Eric thinks that is precisely how he feels, neither male nor female, but some kludged together, imperfect combination of both. "No, he hasn't said anything more about what his plans for the future are, but I did find that boot camp brochure torn into confetti in his room, thank god. Nor has he mentioned St. Andrews Academy at all. "Yes, he did read the codicil, but he hasn't talked about that, either. "What? No, he hasn't written in Michelle's diary, either. "How do I know? I peek, of course - regularly - but he has not touched it since he returned from Eric's place in Chicago. I'm at my wit's end, Barb. I think it is time to ship him off back to Eric in the hopes that he can help Michael where you or I cannot. I am feeling pretty damned useless right now. "Okay. I'll try to stay more positive, but it is so bloody difficult when I see him so . . . empty day after day. Okay, talk to you then." Jane put the phone back in its cradle and returned to her desk. It was such a god-awful bloody mess. She turned back to her window and saw that Michael was no longer in her garden. Worried at this unexpected and radical change in his recent behavior, she started for the door of her office intent on finding him and assuring herself he was safe. "Not *again*. Please, please, let him be all right," she begged under her breath as she hurried off to find him. She never made it out the door. The two of them arrived at the door of Jane's office at precisely the same moment. Unfortunately for Michael, Jane was nearly at a full run. Their collision knocked him sprawling to the foyer floor. "Are you all right?" she cried, kneeling down to check him over and then help him back to his feet. "I'm okay." he said before repeating the reassurance as much to convince himself as to answer her. "I'm okay. What the heck were you doing, Aunt Jane?" She started at his use of 'Aunt Jane' . . . he had not called her that since asking her if they could leave Barbara's house that last time. Perhaps that was why she gave him the unvarnished truth without thinking about it. "I lost sight of you. I was worried that you might . . " she stopped and then recovered, "Well, that you might be hurt." "You thought I might have tried to kill myself again." Michael retorted sourly. "I told you I am not going to do that again. Besides, why should you care?" A ringing slap to the side of his head had him seeing stars, and holding a hand to his smarting cheek. "Because I love you, you damned thickheaded male. You are my masterpiece - the one I molded into the perfect daughter in hopes of finding a more perfect son. Don't you *ever* insult my feelings like that. You may not be able to love me after what I felt I had to do to you - hell, you may even hate me - but I'll be damned if I will let you doubt my feelings for you. You hear me??" "I'm sure Maria heard you and she's off in town buying groceries." he responded, a smile lighting his face for the first time in more than a month. Before Jane could react to the smile, she found herself wrapped in a hug, being held tightly against him. "God, Jane, I have been so lonely. I love you, too." Suddenly weak kneed, Jane carefully led him into her office and let him sit in one of the chairs of the conversation group. "What's happened, Michael? What has changed?" she asked softly. He gave a watery chuckle. "That is the stupid part of it, Aunt Jane. Nothing *really* has. I just had to get some distance. Far enough beyond the hurt, humiliation and resentment caused by you and Mom turning the tables on me before I could begin to remember some other, more important things." "Such as?" "You fighting to save me from myself when I would have hurt myself badly, maybe even killed myself. Mom caning the couch instead of my butt and telling me to scream so that my father would think I was being "properly" punished. You taking me to the Mustang Ranch when we were in Nevada." "You *would* remember that." Jane growled, averting her face to hide her blush. "Yup. First times are special. Anyway, it all sort of came together for me today when I asked myself what I would do with my own children if I knew something that might harm them if they knew it. I wanted my answer to be that, of course, I'd always be perfectly honest with *my* kids. Only, as I very quickly figured out, that was a pure and simple lie. My honest answer, after a great deal of reflection, was that I would lie through my teeth to protect what was mine. *And* it would be my responsibility to decide if and when they needed that kind of protection." He looked up at Jane through eyes that no longer held the pain she'd seen for the past month. "Am I yours to protect, Aunt Jane?" There were tears in her eyes as her hand slipped across the small coffee table to squeeze his tightly. "Damned right." she said huskily. "Am I going to have to get out that green book for you, Aunt Jane?" he teased. "Why the hell not?" she said in the same tone. Then she became serious. "Michael, what about Barbara? She loves you, too. She has been calling me at least twice a day ever since the night of the party." "She's next, Jane. Maybe we can go down there, or perhaps it would be better if she came here?" "Either way, although it will be easier for you to be Michael there than it would be here. Everyone up here in this area still knows you as Michelle." "That's not a problem, Aunt Jane. Another thing I have figured out is who *I* am. I am both Michael and Michelle. I have a masculine drive and ambition that has been tempered by a very feminine sensitivity and caring. Mom was wrong. It's *not* a choice. It's not either/or. I can and will have both in my life because both are part of what and who I am. When I visit Mom down south, I can be Michael. When I visit my other Mom up here, I will be your Gallatea - your Michelle." Jane's heart filled. "Your *other* Mom?" "It's what you are, you know." he replied as Michelle's gentle smile softened Michael's male features. "Barbara gave birth to Michael, but it was you who brought Michelle into the world. I would say that gives you a claim to motherhood, wouldn't you? And all without having to go through labor. Such a deal, right?" "More like going through a seven month labor, smartie." she growled. The peeling of the front door bell interrupted their interlude before Jane could take that thought any further. "Who ever could that be?" Jane asked disgustedly. Michael gave her a 'how would I know?' shrug and went to the front door. He was astonished to find a happily grinning Janice standing on the other side of the threshold. She was every bit as lovely as he remembered her, but different, too. Instead of the society sophisticate, this was a country girl with her long black hair floating freely down to the small of her back and decked out in jeans, a sweater and western boots. "I thought I would *never* find this place. It sure is out of the way, but I guess Jane would need that kind of privacy, wouldn't she. May I come in?" she asked after Michael had stared at her for several heartbeats. "Oh, of course." he said apologetically. He got out of her way, and then looked at Jane who looked as perplexed as he felt. The girl took one look at the older woman and offered her hand. "You must be Jane. Jamie has told me so much about you and the good things you did for him here. He was such an *jerk* before Mom shipped him off to you. I liked him a whole lot better when he came home." Jane's mouth fell open as she realized what the girl had said, but before she could say or do anything, Janice had swung back to face Michael. "Hmmmmm. . . I think you make a better girl, but you're still pretty cute. Maybe it's the way you are dressed - makes it hard to tell. Don't you have any real male clothing? Or is Jane still keeping them locked away?" It took quite awhile for things to calm down after Hurricane Janice made landfall on Jane's doorstep. The girl was a force of nature, moving from one topic to another without seeming to breathe, but eventually she slowed down enough for the other two to give her monologues at least a pretense of being actual conversations. She really was a very sweet young woman who had an unswerving sense of purpose, as Jane and Michael discovered when the three of them were sitting around Maria's kitchen table enjoying a light tea. "So, anyway, I finally wormed the whole story out of Jamie - he can't keep anything from me that I really want to know. You trained him very well, Jane. So, then I figured out why everyone had been moping around since the party and weren't happily anticipating the wedding. Your Mom is a lovely lady, Michael, you are so lucky to have her. But anyway, I figured something had to be done, so here I am." Dizzy from trying to keep up with her rapid-fire changes of subject, Michael managed to lock onto the last thing she said. "So here you are. . .why?" Janice looked at him as if he were somehow mentally deficient before tossing a commiserating look at Jane. Jane did not have any better idea what the girl was getting at, but nodded sagely at her anyway. "Silly. To get you to come to her wedding, of course. So she will know you've forgiven her and that you aren't going to anything so stupid as go to that hell hole boot camp thing she told you about." "When is the wedding?" he asked. "Saturday after next, Michael, on Valentine's Day." "Are we going to the wedding, Aunt Jane?" Michael asked with a twinkle in his eye. "I suspect we are, Michael." "There's just one more little thing." Janice said with the air of someone who is about to solve a huge problem. "Okay, give, but just remember I have been manipulated by experts in the past months." "As if I would try." Janice's nose went into the air and she gave a very unladylike snort. "It's just that one of your Mother's attendants broke her leg - she insists on going to Aspen every Christmas even though she is the worst klutz - and since everyone at the party has already *met* Michelle. Why, that means you might be discovered if you tried to attend as Michael, so I was just thinking that it might be a wonderful surprise if you were to take my place as her substitute attendant. As Michelle, of course." she added quickly. Michael wondered how she could say so much, so quickly and not run her words together. He found her. . . fascinating. "Oh, of course." Michael agreed laconically. "But she strongly implied that she would prefer me to live full time as a guy." he teased, winking at Jane since he'd already told her how he planned to live his life. "Oh pooh. She had to say that because she had you as a son. I don't think she'd mind in the least. Besides. . ." she trailed off. "Besides. .? " Michael prompted, thoroughly enchanted and already half in love with this vivacious girl. "Then she'd know you have really, really forgiven her for what she had to do to you . . . to help you become a better person." she looked at him entreatingly. Then she got a mischievous grin on her face. "And, I am almost positive that Michelle would fit perfectly into my bridesmaid dress - I really regret that part of this because it is really a great dress, but hey, I really like your Mom and this will make her very happy." "Welllllll. . ." Michael drawled before slipping into Michelle's voice. "I really have to see the dress first, darling. I was not very impressed by that *shroud* you were wearing at the party. Didn't do a *thing* for you." Both women simply stared at him, and then burst out laughing with him. Janice recovered first. "Meeee-ooowww, you nasty cat. I will have you know that *shroud* was chosen by my Mother who wants me to be eternally thirteen years old. Something about she can't grow old if I don't grow up, I guess." she said disgustedly. "*YOUR* Mom picked this one out and she has much better taste." Then she jumped up from the table. "It's in the car. I'll get it while you . . .do whatever it is you do to become Michelle." Michael and Jane just shook their heads as she rushed off. "So, my son and daughter," Jane asked, "Are you going to do it?" Michael frowned as he considered the possible benefits along with the potential dangers of Janice's plan. "You don't think it will hurt her? Mom, I mean?" It really had worked, Jane thought. He is thinking of others now as well as himself. Even *before* he thinks of himself. "I think Janice is right. She'll love it. She might cry a bit, but those tears will be the happy kind." Nodding his understanding, Michael grinned broadly before saying airily. "Then I guess I better go do whatever it is that I do, eh?" ~-----------~ "Where is that girl?" a silver haired woman asked to the room. "She knows the procession is supposed to start in five minutes." "She said she'd had too much to drink and needed to go to the bathroom or she'd never make it down the aisle." Barbara said with a grin on her face. "She'll be back. It just takes awhile to get through all this frou-frou when nature calls." The matron harrumphed at that. "Silly girl should have seen to it before she got dressed. And *you* were the one who insisted on real period lingerie to go with these dresses." Just then, there was a commotion as a someone entered the room wearing Janice's dress, only it wasn't Janice. "I hope I haven't held you up." came a strangely familiar voice. Barbara turned and saw first the blonde locks done up in a set of old style ringlets that went beautifully with the Victorian style gowns Barbara had chosen for her second wedding. "And just who might you be, young lady?" furiously demanded the same silver haired woman. And then Barbara knew. "Michelle?" she whispered, not quite willing to believe her eyes. And then she found her child in her arms, hugging her close. "Hi, Mom. Just couldn't wait to get me back into petticoats, could you?" Michael teasingly whispered for her ears alone before pulling back and saying in Michelle's voice. "Hi, Aunt Barbara. Janice and I thought we'd surprise you since I was able to get away for your wedding after all. And don't worry, Janice has been drilling me on my part in all this. I'll do just fine." Barbara pulled her son/daughter close again and whispered. "Thank you. Now my day is perfect." before also adding aloud. "I think you'll do more that just fine, darling . . . I think you'll be just perfect." The End and a New Beginning -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----