Message-ID: <18092eli$9812180451@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: Tales of the Season: Darla's Story (TG) 6 of 6 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: <3680b171.12299488@news.erols.com> Tales of the Season - Darla's Story by Tigger copyright 1998, all rights reserved. Part 6: Samuel Evans was not a happy man. One reason for this was that one of the most powerful board members had summoned him to a meeting. Summoned *him* like some damned lackey when *he* was the power in this company. He'd have to break that pompous ass during the next major board meeting. That pompous old fool might own almost twenty percent of the stock in this company, but so long as Samuel still voted his ex-wife's stock shares, he could overturn any board action and oust any member. The second reason for his bad mood was that there appeared to be a major move on the publicly available stock in his company. Someone or some organization had recently acquired nearly four percent of his stock, and while that had pushed the value of his company's stock steadily upward, not knowing who was doing it and why they were doing it were cause for concern. There wasn't enough stock available to threaten him, but it was disturbing that he did not know where the move was coming from. The biggest reason for his current fury, however was once again his damned son. After all the trouble he'd taken to rescue him from that bitch, he had turned on him - his own father! The pansy-ass wimp told him, just the other day, that since he was now over 16 years of age, he was old enough petition the court to change the custody agreement to suit his own wishes. Further, the ungrateful little bastard was going to do just that as soon as he got home to his bitch of a mother. How the hell was he going to undo the damage done to his son's masculinity if the damn kid wasn't ever around? The answer was that he couldn't and given the kid's current attitude towards his *father*, it was probably already too late anyway. Samuel Evans was not going to let them get away with ruining his son, his *heir*, . . .his *SUCCESSOR*! He'd stop them, he swore, and he knew just how to do it, too. If she was out of business, *Ms. Jane Thompson* wouldn't be able to do any more harm to Stephan. Tomorrow, he'd start fixing that Thompson bitch's wagon, and he was going to enjoy every damned minute of it. Just thinking about her picture plastered across every newspaper and tabloid, or about her being dogged by TV cameramen and reporters with microphones to jam in her face improved his outlook on life. And if his brat of a son got splattered with the same muddy brush in the media, well, that was just too damned bad. It was Deirdre's fault, after all, not *his*. She could be the one who had to live with it just like that Thompson woman was going to have to live with the hell Samuel Evans was going to make of her life. A knock sounded at the door to Evans' office. "Enter." he called out. His executive assistant stuck his head in the door. "Mr. Evans, you have that one o'clock meeting in the boardroom with Mr. Johnson and his party." "Thank you." Evans answered curtly. "I will be there straight away." After making sure that his unwelcome guests had cooled their collective heels for almost fifteen minutes, Evans breezed into the boardroom, a patently false smile of welcome on his lips. "David, good to see you. I am sorry to be late, but I was on the phone with the Tokyo office and you know how early they have to get up to talk to me." The two men shook hands, giving Evans a chance to survey the rest of the room. Surprise momentarily brought him up short when he recognized his ex-wife sitting beside another very attractive woman of middle years. Additionally, there were three young women who might be anywhere from teenaged to early twenties. And then he saw a third older woman, standing at the window, her back to the main room. "Glad you could make it, Evans." the older man said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Just a minute while I get the last member of our little meeting." Samuel took his seat at the head of the table while Johnson left the room. Moments later, he returned escorting *Stephan* into the room. "What is the meaning of this?" Evans growled. "What is he doing here?" "He is here at my request." Deirdre said softly "Since in two years *he* will be voting my shares and since this meeting affects him." "We'll just see about that, Deirdre, darling." Evans said with exaggerated solicitude before his face hardened. "All right. Let's get this over with. What the hell is this all about, Johnson. You were bloody secretive about this and I am much too busy to play kids' games." Johnson smiled. "Very well. First let me introduce the other members of our little party. The lady seated by your wife is Mrs. Barbara Davis whose late husband was the president of Nash Enterprises. Next to her is her daughter, Michelle Nash and her companion, Darla Smith. And I believe you already know this lady," he said softly as he offered his hand to the woman still standing at the window. Jane Thompson turned and Evans felt his mouth drop. "YOU!!!" he yelled, completely out of control. "Hello, Mr. Evans, we meet again." Evans was out of his seat, advancing on Jane, raw fury in his eyes. "I am going to destroy you, woman, as you destroyed my son. You won't be able to show your face anywhere in the world when I finish with you." Johnson interposed himself between Jane and the other man. "Sit down, Evans, and shut your mouth." he ordered coldly. "I am not finished with the introductions yet." "You can't talk to me that way!" "Yes, I can. Now sit down and listen, or hear it tomorrow at an extraordinary board meeting I will call to review your removal as president of this company. Even if I cannot pull it off, the attempt will make the papers and wire services. You know what that will mean to your precious company." For long moments, the two men stood toe-to-toe, staring at one another, until Evans smirked, shrugged and strutted back to his throne. With a regal wave of his hand at the older man he said "Please, do continue, honored sir." Jane took a seat at the table next to the as yet unnamed female at the table before Johnson continued. "It has come to my attention, Evans, that you intend to retaliate against Ms. Thompson by slandering her in the press. You do not want to do that." "It is not slander if it is the truth, old man. What the various. . .supermarket newspapers make of that is their concern, not mine. And I most certainly *do* want to do precisely that." A slow smile lit the older man's face. "Do it, and you will be out of this office and on the street in twenty four hours. Mrs. Davis has had the executor of her husband's will buy up all the shares of the company that could be had. You currently control how much, Mrs. Davis? "About six percent, Mr. Johnson, perhaps a little more." "I control twenty three percent, Evans. Twenty of my own and three percent by proxy." Evans stood. "Why don't you just stop while you are ahead, Johnson. As long as I vote fifty one percent of the stock, you can't do anything to me and you know it. So, if you will excuse me?" "But you *don't* vote fifty one percent anymore, Samuel." Deirdre Evans said in a very quiet voice. She slid an envelope over to her ex-husband. "In there you will find a legal document revoking your authority to vote my seventeen percent of the company by proxy." Johnson smiled ferally at the stunned company president. "With Deirdre's and Mrs. Davis' stock, I now vote forty six percent of the stock. I figure you have pissed off enough of the other shareholders to give me that last four percent I need to toss you out on your ear." For a long moment, Evans could only stand there, at the end of the table, his mouth open in utter bewilderment. "What do you want?" he finally asked, already knowing the answer. "You will leave Ms. Thompson and her school alone. If any word of her activities, and I mean *any* word leaks to the press, I will have you removed within twenty four hours. I don't particularly care if *you* are really behind the leak or not. So long as you keep your mouth shut and forget your petty little vengeance, you can keep your position as president." Nothing was said as every eye in the room fixed on Evans. Slowly, he lowered himself back into his seat. "No one can run this company better than I can." "True enough. But we'll get by." "And as long as I don't go after *her*" his finger pointed at Jane accusingly, "You leave me alone?" "As alone as we have left you up until now. You will be the president, and as you said, no one can run this company as well as you. We will still be the board of directors, responsible to our shareholders to ensure that the company remains profitable. Nothing changes." "Ha. Except that I no longer have the power to tell you all to go to hell and you now have the power to tell that to me. You win, Johnson. You have my word that I will take no retaliatory action against Ms. Thompson." Evans said in a subdued voice. "As someone said, trust but verify, Evans. By noon tomorrow, I will have proxy authority in hand for Deirdre's and Mrs. Davis's shares. Be very careful." A spark of the old anger flared in the man's eyes, only to be quickly tamped down. He nodded and watched as everyone else rose from their seats to leave. "Johnson? One moment. Why? What does that. . .that *woman* mean to you? Why are you doing this?" Johnson looked at Evans, and then to the young woman who still had not been introduced to Evans. She nodded slightly, and the old man smiled proudly before turning back to face the defeated man at the end of the long table. "Let me tell you a little bit of family history, Mr. Evans. Without going into any of the dirty details, I can tell you that my only grandson got himself mixed up in some deep, deep trouble. He was involved with some bad people and was heading for a very bad end. His parents and I were at our wits end - we'd tried everything - or thought we had. It was only a matter of time until he ended up in jail or in the morgue." The old man smiled over at Deirdre who returned it. "Then your ex-wife saw me at a board meeting, looking particularly low. She teased the entire story out of me, and told me of an old friend of hers who might be able to help us help my grandson. Simply stated, Mr. Evans, Jane Thompson saved my grandson's life. My daughter sent him to Jane. He was a tough nut, and it took her the better part of a year to finally get through to him. Eventually she broke him of all that macho stupidity and built him back into a man I am proud to call my grandson. More than that, a man I am pleased to call my friend." The old man held out his hand to lithe, young brunette. With easy grace, she rose and glided across the room to stand beside Johnson. Smiling up at the old man, she reached up and pulled off her hair. The short haircut beneath the wig looked ridiculously incongruous atop the perfectly made up face. "May I present to you my grandson, Mr. Evans?" Johnson said with steel in his voice, and was pleased at the look of disbelieving shock on the other man's face. "If you attack Jane Thompson," Johnson continued in a softer yet intensely threatening tone, "You attack *my* grandson because it may well come out that he lived as a young girl for that year he was supposedly abroad at a European military boarding school. Attacking my grandson, Mr. Evans, makes you my blood enemy. Do you understand now, sir? More importantly, do we understand each other now?" Evans could only nod, his eyes wide. "I thought you would." He turned back to his femininely turned out grandson who was patting the wig back into place under Jane's watchful eye. "I think we are through here. Good day, Mr. Evans. See you at the next regularly scheduled board meeting. Unless you do something to force me to call one before that." With that threat still hanging in the now silent boardroom, Johnson shepherded the women, Stephan and his grandson out the door. ~---------------~ Maria was waiting at the door when Jane's beloved Lincoln pulled into the driveway. She smiled happily as she ushered Michelle, Darla and Jane into the house. There was a high tea already laid on the sideboard of the breakfast nook and the two young ones fell on the food with ravenous appetite. "Ladies!" Jane admonished with a happy grin. "Manners, please, unless you would both like some remediative training? You'd think they haven't seen food in days, Maria." Smiling sheepishly, Darla swallowed hard and put down her plate with an obvious effort. "Well, I've sort of been off my feed the past few days, even after we fixed things out at Stef's place, I was always just a little nervous at playing Darla in front of quite so large an audience." "You did great." Michelle offered, barely remembering to swallow first. "It gets easier and you have a great look anyway." "Well, I would rather have switched to male stuff after the confrontation with Evans." "I told you when you asked to be involved, dear, that I couldn't leave with a girl and return with a boy without raising a lot of questions we'd rather not answer." Jane gently reproved. "You knew from the very start that you'd have to stay Darla for the duration of the trip. And I agree with Michelle. You did very well. You stood up to some very tight scrutiny, particularly at the airport, and passed easily." Darla flushed bright crimson as she recalled the incident. They'd been waiting in the lounge for their flight when Jane and Michelle had needed to use the Ladies Room. Darla wasn't quite up to that and had told them she'd wait for them. By the time Jane and Michelle had returned, Darla had been trying to fend off the attentions of three young lotharios, all determined to talk her into a short walk about the terminal. And Jane, the dirty sneak, had just stood there in the shadows and let Darla sweat until it looked like one of her suitors was going to get a little physical. Well, at least Jane had come to her rescue when Darla had *really* needed it. Calling upon the control that had so frustrated Jane for the past four weeks, Darla forced a smile onto her lips. "Yes, I guess that's so. They never knew they were hitting on a guy, did they?" Jane chuckled. "No, they didn't." Jane took a sip from her tea and let herself relax. "So, Darla, what do we do with you now?" The girl stopped in mid-bite and looked up at Jane in surprise. "I don't understand, Aunt Jane." Thoroughly amused, Jane savored the picture before her. "My goodness, child, have you gotten that comfortable with the masquerade? What I meant, dear, how are you going to live - as Darryl or as Darla?" At her student's still blank look, Jane relented a bit. "I have already formally reported to Judge Ruth that you were rehabilitated, dear. There is no longer any reason for *me* to keep you in skirts." Darla put down the fork and thought about that. "I could go back to being Darryl now, couldn't I?" Jane smiled. "Yes, you could, and in fact, you probably should. It will greatly simplify getting you into school and then later into college. There's only one small problem with that idea. As you pointed out once, Darla *has* been seen around these parts. Not very often, but you have been out and about as Darla and you *do* make a very striking, memorable girl. I don't think anyone outside of my little cadre has seen enough of you in skirts to look at Darryl and see Darla." "But it is a possibility, isn't it?" "Yes, it is possible, but not likely. You haven't been in the masquerade so long that your mannerisms are truly entrenched." Darla's eyes dropped to the hands she had demurely put into her lap and consciously moved them to rest on the arms of her chair. "Hard, isn't it?" Michelle asked gently in his normal masculine voice. "Don't let Jane fool you, Darryl. You are going to have those little gestures for a very long time. They'll just slip in. Maybe you'll be the only one who notices them, maybe you won't, but they are a part of you now. Same with Darryl in Darla. You're gonna do something masculine if you continue to dress and you'll be absolutely *positive* that everyone in the room will have seen it and *know* you're a guy. Trust me, I've been there. Most of the guys at St. Andrews are convinced I'm gay now. But it doesn't matter to me anymore - what *they* think just doesn't matter any more. I am beyond that now." Michelle stopped for a moment, as he pinned Darla with a hard stare, then nodded to himself. "I think you are, too, Darryl- Darla, so why don't you just make the decision that works best for you?" Darla thought about that, and had to agree the Michael was in the right of it. Numerous times while they'd been out of town, he'd caught himself forgetting some little feminine gesture or movement or intonation. It had been terrifying when it happened, but nothing had come of it. And just now, he'd instinctively done a very feminine movement of his hands and it had nothing to do with being dressed as a girl. It had just seemed. . . . natural somehow. "I guess so, Michael." Darryl said in his own voice. Then he turned to Jane. "So, who is better for Aunt Jane?" "Oh no, dear. Don't put that decision on to my poor old head. I don't want you regretting your choice and blaming me for it later." Darla shook her head. "Okay, then, how would I go to school as Darla? More importantly, how could Darryl go away to college if *his* records from high school say "f" in the gender box?" Jane considered that for a moment. "I have a friend at the local high school. I think it could be arranged for you to go as Darla, but have your private records, the ones that get sent to whatever college Darryl applies for, indicate your real name and sex. Failing that, I know I can arrange that at the local girls' boarding school, except you'd live with me as a day student." "And I could still go to college as a male?" Jane nodded. "I don't see why not." "And I would stay with you, regardless of my decision?" "Yes." Jane said simply. A thought occurred to Darryl. "Could you take on more students if I was here as Darryl?" "I don't know. I've never tried before. Maybe, but it would be difficult in many ways, and I don't know how it would work out for the boys. Part of the program is to immerse them in an unrelenting feminine environment. Your presence here as a male would likely have one of two impacts. Either you will be seen as a male lifeline, as something to help them center themselves around their male self image, or being seen *by* you will drive them over the edge more quickly." "You sound hesitant, Aunt Jane." Darla noted. She smiled wanly. "Because I am, dear. I hate to admit this, but I am something of a creature of habit - particularly habits built on a foundation of success. I don't like deviating from what I know works. Most boys walk a very fine line in their first few weeks under my tuition. I have a very good idea how most of them will react to my little tyrannies *in the environment I usually work with*. Your presence here as Darryl changes that environment in unpredictable and potentially dangerous ways. I do not know if I could bring a new student into such an uncertain situation." Darla considered that. He thought about where he'd be right now if Jane had not taken him on and made his decision. A loud knock ended what the feminine young man was about to say. A disgruntled Jane started for the door only to be headed off by Michelle. "I've been practicing my Janice-talk, Aunt Jane. I'll get rid of whoever it is." Only he didn't, and returned to the breakfast nook with a huge smile on his face. "Look what the cat dragged in." Stephan walked into the room, a brightly smiling Michelle hanging on his arm. Moments later, Jane and Maria had the boy in their arms, hugging him tightly. "When did you get in?" "An hour ago, Aunt Jane. I missed the flight you were on and caught the next one." "But why? You were free, dear, and by the way, I am very proud of the way you handled yourself with your father." The tall boy blushed, and grinned. "Thanks. Having you there for me helped a lot. I came back because I wasn't done. *You* hadn't released me and when my Mom sent me to you, I promised to stay the course until *you* said I could leave. Besides," he grinned looking at Darla. "I thought you still might need a big sister for Miss Priss over there. I figured that was only fair trade for all you've done for me. Each-one-teach- one, right?" "And you came back." Jane said softly. "And I came back." Jane felt like heart was going to burst, she was so happy and so proud. "Thank you, dear." she said softly. "Except, Darla graduated, too. She doesn't really need a big sister. In fact, we were trying to decide whether she was going to go to school as Darla or Darryl." Stephan grinned widely and offered Darla a hand to high five. "Way to go, little sis!" he cheered. "So." Darla spoke up for the first time in a while. "How am I going to go to school, Aunt Jane? I've got plans for my life." She preened in a caricature of the movie femme fatale sexpot. "After all, I am not going to be beautiful forever." And was immediately buried under a barrage of pillows wielded by screaming, giggling friends. Jane let the giggling pillow fight go for a few minutes before laughingly breaking it up. "Enough, you lot!" All three young faces had a lovely red flush and bright, mischievous grins. Jane turned her attention to Darla. "So, do I take that as your decision to finish school in skirts, young man?" She watched as her ward composed himself, and could literally see him becoming increasingly feminine with each passing second. Finally, Darla nodded. "If there is any chance my living here as Darryl might cause you not to take on another student like me, or might keep you from helping someone else in your care. . . well, I just cannot be responsible for someone else not getting the opportunity for a new life that you gave me. Besides," and here the grin became gamine, "I want to be the big sister." Jane sniffled once and by force of will, stemmed the tears burning behind her eyelids. She was just so very proud of these three youngsters. "You'll be a great one, love." she assured him softly. "One of the best. Thank you." Before Jane could say another word, Darla was in her arms hugging the breath out of Jane. "Thank you, too, Aunt Jane, for everything." -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----