Message-ID: <7442eli$9801181714@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern) Subject: RP JayCee 3/9 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19980117213700.QAA00527@ladder02.news.aol.com> TG: "JayCee" by Vickie Tern, 3/9 teen femdom, m/f etc This story contains no unnatural acts only because nothing in nature is unnatural. But various characters here do uncommon things with each other, as well as the usual things, always considerate of each other's feelings. If this offends you, read no further. If you're under whatever the age of consent where you live, read no further. You might learn to do uncommon things while being considerate, as well as the usual things, and we can't have that. Vickie Tern's stories are archived at http://library.gaycafe.com/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Vickie_Tern To archivists everywhere who make stories like these freely available to those who enjoy them, thanks. You are among the glories of the Net. Also, I appreciate any kind of e-mail comment on my stories, VickieTern@AOL.COM, and I usually reply in kind. Marion's mother was thin too, like him, with a nice figure, and though she wore no makeup at all it was obvious that she could look stunning whenever she chose -- she had the same high cheekbones as her son, and the same almond-shaped eyes, and she had the same black lashes, though on a woman you can never tell. She carried herself like a dancer -- there was something poised and formally gracious even in the way she turned to greet me. Her hair was fairly long for a woman her age, and piled high up on her head, the way mine was pinned up. She made pleased and surprised noises to see the two of us together, looking from one of us to the other and saying something about my mother's visit the day they first moved in. So she knew who I was already, without being introduced. I saw that the kitchen window in front of her cutting board on the counter gave her a full view of our entire promenade, from my calculated crouch in front of my own house practically to their front steps. I glanced out that window, then at his mother again. She was watching me, and we saw we understood each other perfectly. She smiled. Marion put the bag on the kitchen table between them. "JayCee, isn't it," his mother said wiping a hand on her apron, and offering it. "I'm Jane. Just 'Jane' please. No formalities here. I'm delighted to meet you, I'm sure you know that." Then to her son, "You got the prescriptions too, Marion? The vitamins? Yes, here they are." She opened the pill bottles and took two from one, then one from the other, huge as pills go, and handed them to him. "Take these now," she told him. "Then if you don't mind, that washing machine isn't hooked up right. Would you mind going down and reversing the hoses, and put it up on its blocks, and check it over, then holler to me when you think it's finally installed right, so I can bring down some washing and we can test it out?" "Sure, Mom," he said. "I'll see you, JayCee!" "When you come up. I'll look after your friend meanwhile. I'd like to get to know JayCee a little, if she doesn't mind, now that she's here. You go down and we'll talk, and we'll be here when you've done what you need to do." He went down to the cellar to fix the washing machine or whatever. I looked at her expectantly. She hadn't gotten rid of her son just to pass the time of day with me. "Your mother told me you were a nice girl," his mother said to me when we were out of his hearing. "She didn't tell me you were also clever. I see that for myself. I'm pleased to know you." "Likewise," I said, not much into formalities myself. I looked her straight in the eye, and she looked straight into mine. I liked her immediately. "Mrs....um, Jane, you have a nice son. I like him." "Yes, I just heard you tell him that," she commented with a small smile. Meaning she'd also heard me call him Mary. She didn't seem to mind. Also meaning, she didn't want secrets between us. This emboldened me, but I remembered my manners. "Can I ask you something, Mrs...Jane, I mean? Right out, with no 'I know its really none of my business, but...' stuff?" I had never spoken to anyone like that before. Not so blunt. But Marion's mother seemed to invite it. I could sense that, and I wanted her respect, and I sensed this was how to get it. "Absolutely, JayCee! No 'none of my business stuff...' between us ever, OK?" "Great!" I said thinking to myself that there were certainly some secrets around here, if she's that open about being open with me. "I guess I've got two questions, really. The first is, why did you name your son 'Marion'? That was asking for trouble for him." She looked at me steadily, then sat down at the table and leaned on her elbows, and twined her wrists together and clasped her hands. It was a graceful gesture, like an actress or a model, and I thought I might try that some time myself. It might be useful. She found it useful, obviously. She nodded for me to sit too, so I did. "You ask without preliminaries, so I'll answer the same way. By the time Marion was born I knew I was going to divorce his father. His father is a real shit, a vicious man with no respect for anyone he can't control, especially women, and a foul-mouthed wife-beater. I'd wanted a daughter of my very own, so at least I could carry something good away from my years with him, not a son who might look up to that bastard and maybe some day choose to live with him, and to think and behave like him. And a daughter he'd never contest during a divorce. He'd want all kinds of rights over a son." "But we take what we get. I got a boy. So I gave him a boy's name I could imagine was a girl's name, and everyone else could think was a girl's name if they wanted to. That way I saw to it that I was asking for the right kind of trouble for him. He's still a little defensive, the way adolescent boys are, but you must have noticed, he doesn't feel it's al all demeaning to be carrying what sounds like a girl's name. You can call him 'Mary' to tease him, if you like, or even 'Marianne' all the time, and it doesn't bother him at all. He takes no notice. He's not insulted that his name sounds like a girl's. He respects girls. He's had to learn to respect them in order to respect himself, and not go through life cringing and apologizing for things that aren't his fault." She sat back and smiled. "Then when his father came home from some long overseas engineering and whoring trip and got infuriated to learn that he now had a son named Marion, well, that was another plus." "Ok, Mrs. ... uh, ma'am, fair enough. Just now I...." "'Jane,' please, JayCee, if you don't mind." "No, Jane, I don't mind at all. I like it. I like you too." I really did. Why did I want her to know right off? "That explains why he didn't mind my calling him 'Marianne' or 'Mary.' I didn't get anywhere near him with that." "Closer than you'd think, but not the way you'd think, JayCee. 'Marianne's' a lovely version of 'Marion.' And so is he. I wish I'd thought of it! I'm glad you did. You had another question?" "Yes, ma'am. Yes, Jane. This one's a little more serious." I really hesitated, then I just blurted it out. "Why are you feeding your son female hormones and telling him they're vitamins?" Jane glanced at the bottles between us on the table, then looked at me mildly but steadily. "When he was a boy he had asthma," she said, "And he got accustomed to taking vitamin supplements and allergy shots. He thinks he still is." That wasn't really relevant, except that now I knew that he was also shooting up female hormones, and didn't know that either. Pretty heavy duty stuff. I sat there waiting. "May I ask how you know what these are?" She picked one up and held it as if to read the label, but didn't bother looking at it. I told her. And how I knew they weren't for her. She glanced at the Kotex package when I mentioned it, with a quick smile. Then she resumed looking straight at me. She added gently, as if reminiscing, "Yes, I saw you reading the labels earlier while you two were walking here. I knew you knew. And I notice that neither then nor just now did you say anything to him. You saw as soon as you both walked in here that he didn't even blink when I called them vitamins and handed him some. He still thinks they're vitamins. " Now I felt like a co-conspirator. Was that was how she wanted me to feel? "He also gets hormone shots, as I've just told you, and I have his blood monitored carefully each month. I love him, and I take no chances with him. He needs to overcome his body's natural production of male hormones, so he needs heavy doses of estrogen and so forth. If he'd had an arranged accident when he was younger, and lost his testicles, he could have gone on much smaller doses to complete his puberty. But it's too late now -- now he'd think it was a disaster if it happened, and I don't want him to suffer anything traumatic like that ever!" But she still wasn't answering my question. She looked steadily at me a moment longer, then she suddenly straightened up. "JayCee," she said. "Can I talk to you frankly, woman to woman? No 'stuff' at all?" Now she really wanted to make me a co-conspirator, no question about it. What she wanted to say was not to be known even by her own son. It could be a barrier between me and Marion, if we ever got close. I hesitated, but I'd never known anyone like this woman. She was elegant and yet down-to-earth, direct yet extremely tactful, gracious, smart, and she knew her own mind. She was already some of the things I realized I wanted to be. "Yes, of course, ah, Jane," I said. She knew I knew what she was really asking. But that wasn't good enough for her. She had to underline it. "What I say now never leaves this room. And Marion or 'Marianne' is never to hear of it. Are you willing to agree to that?" "Sure," I said. I love mysteries, and a big one was about to be unfolded. "I just told you that when Marion was born I wanted a girl, didn't I?" I nodded. "Well, in a nutshell, I'm getting one. Marion is becoming a girl. I've arranged for him to have a girl's puberty instead of a boy's puberty. He doesn't know it himself yet, but this summer coming up is a crucial one for his development. I want to use it to ease his transition to living as a girl full time by the time school begins again, not merely so he'll accept it, but so he'll enjoy it. So he'll love it! So he can start school this Fall as a girl, and never again be anything else, and for the rest of his life never look back. Never wish to be anything else. That's one reason why we moved here, where no one knows him. No questions, no curiosity, no mockery. A whole new beginning." I was dumbfounded. I leaned forward and asked her yet again. "Jane, why are you doing this to him." "Not to him, with him," his mother said. "For him. For different reasons. Let me list a few, and let's see if they don't make sense to you." "First, girls are nicer than boys. If you don't know that yet, you will. But I think you do. Also, girls have more character than boys. They can endure and survive more, and once they understand how boys tick they can put themselves in charge without even seeming to be there at all. Because most boys really want girls to be in charge. I think you've already found that out too, haven't you, JayCee?" "Yes, I suppose I have," I said evenly, wondering how she knew. "Well, that's what I want for my baby. To be what you are. To know what you know. To live the life you'll live. You be the judge, JayCee. Which would you rather be? A girl or a boy? For the rest of your life." A girl, of course. For the rest of my life? Why should anyone ever want to be a boy? But I didn't answer her. There was really nothing for me to say. She didn't mean for me to answer. I waited. "Secondly, I'm still young. Still in my thirties. I go out, and I invite friends back to the house now and then, and sometimes I'll ask them to dinner here, and sometimes a special friend'll stay overnight. It sounds selfish, I know, but it isn't. Now, I am not a storybook mother whose whole life is dedicated to her child. I wouldn't want to burden any child of mine with the notion that I sacrificed my life for him. For her. That's a terrible burden for any child to bear. So I have my friends over. I enjoy their companionship and the sex, and so on, and I expect my child to understand. It's my life too." "Well, responses to a parent's sexuality are fairly standard according to a child's gender. At Marion's age boys resent their mothers' sexuality. Girls don't. A girl may even admire their mother's boyfriends, though usually they resent their father's girlfriends. Well, I don't need a resentful adolescent son implying to any of my guests that they're not welcome, or moping about unhappy because my life and my affections aren't exclusively devoted to him. I love Marion dearly, but I'd love to fall in love again with someone I can take to bed and dedicate to my own pleasure, and I'd never want Marion to be in the way. I'm still looking." I thought, I should be feeling embarrassed to hear that. But I wasn't. I understood well enough. "On the other hand, it's nice for everyone when a woman is living with a teenage daughter. Daughters understand how their mothers' feel, and don't feel threatened themselves. In fact, sometimes a pretty daughter somewhere in the house can't help but enrich a guest's fantasy and intensify any romantic moods. Even a decent person who'd never touch her. You're a daughter. Don't the older men who come into your house sometimes seem to feel a compulsion to turn on the charm when they look at you? Even though you're your father and mother's child, and untouchable?" "More often than sometimes," I said. I grinned to myself, and she saw and grinned back at me. "You're a real pet, JayCee. You hear me perfectly, I can tell. Now, so far what I've described are the advantages of having a daughter instead of a son. My third reason is why it's necessary for Marion to be my daughter, not my son. Not just advantageous, but necessary. Crucial. It's this. His father comes back now and then to claim his unlimited visitation rights over Marion. That was the price I paid to get a decent child support allotment when he first abandoned us. I make plenty of money now, but I didn't then. I needed every penny, and the price I paid for it was, any time after Marion turns 16, and he's just done that, his father can take him away from me for as long as he likes, and keep him as far away as he likes." "Well, that man resents me. In fact he has contempt for all the women who have ever associated themselves with him. He's boasted to me that he means to come back and take Marion away and keep him away for good. He said he was going to turn Marion into his kind of man, which means a self-gratifying, conceited, sexist boor like himself. A calculating rapist who'll never get caught. And he could do it. At Marion's age a young man is attracted to the idea that women exist only for his pleasure. It solves all of his problems, of relationship, and responsibility, and adequacy, and respect, everything, all at once. Marion will want to believe it, and his father can be persuasive. Already there've been times when Marion came home from a week's visit with his father with his mouth spewing filth, arrogant, for weeks useless around the house, because he'd adopted his father's belief that women are lower forms of life placed on earth to serve men." "Well, I mean to put Marion beyond his reach, beyond the slightest interest his father might ever have in him. That bastard is overseas now, and means to take Marion away from me when he returns next year. He's told me that repeatedly, to upset me and then gloat. Well, when he gets back next year I want him to discover that his son is the sweetest, loveliest daughter any man ever disowned. A lovely girl and a respectable young woman. And I'll confess it to you, JayCee, I'll get a lot of personal satisfaction from seeing my ex when he sees he's lost a son and gained a daughter. That'll fix him once and for all!" Changing her son's sex just to get back at her ex struck me as a little harsh, but I saw she wasn't really doing that. She was protecting him from her ex, and protecting a lot of women from what he might become after her ex corrupted him. I really couldn't quarrel with that. In fact I decided to enter even deeper into our conspiracy by asking some more questions. "Marianne knows nothing of any of this?" "Nothing, JayCee. Well, he knows he's having an odd adolescence, but I've assured him he'll get over it. As he will." "When are you going to tell him?" She stood up and went to the fridge, and took out a Coke. Then she looked at me with one eyebrow raised, and I nodded. She took out a second coke, handed it over, and sat down again. I cracked the can open. "Obviously, some time this summer, he'll have to know that he isn't going to get over it. Not ever. That he isn't a peculiar boy. That like it or not he's a transsexual girl. That he'll have to be a girl for the rest of his life. That his body is already a girl's, except for his genitals, and that he needs to change his gender in his own mind and become a she. That she can enjoy being a girl. But I'm hoping it won't be necessary to tell him." "What do you mean?" "Think about it. I'm hoping he'll want it to happen all by himself, and accept what's happened, so we don't have to tell him anything. That he'll help it happen." "How do you plan to do that?" "By making each step in becoming a girl delightful. As attractive as possible. More desireable than remaining the kind of boy he is now." She paused and then looked directly at me. "Will you help me, JayCee? Will you help him? Will you help Marianne become herself?" I took a swig from my coke can and considered the matter. "If he knew, he'd never agree," I said, avoiding a direct answer. "No, of course not. It has to happen because he wants it, not merely because he agrees to it. I don't mind if he thinks he has no choice, and only reconciles himself to it, because I know that in the long run he'll be grateful. But back to my question. Will you help Marianne become the daughter I want him to be? The daughter she should be? For the rest of this summer? It would be so much easier with your help. You know you'd be doing him a huge favor, really. And I can make it well worth your trouble. I thought about it. I didn't have a summer job yet. "I was going to work ten or fifteen hours a week at Chicken Licken or Burger Bob's," I said. "Evenings. I figured on earning maybe $75 a week through Labor Day." "This is irregular work, but it's a lot more than ten or fifteen hours," she said. "It can be a lot of most days. It's whatever it takes. Whatever it costs. It's my son's life. My daughter's life, for the rest of her life." She paused, near tears, swallowed, and recovered herself. Then she listened to my silence. Encouraged, she then went on. "JayCee, we can tell your parents you're working for me. I'm now setting up training courses for various businesses, the kind they need when they bring in new computer software to teach to beginning employees. I can tell them honestly that at your educational level you're a typical targeted client and customer who for that reason can be a very persuasive sales representative. That's all true enough. Each week for the rest of the summer I'll pay you three times whatever you'd have earned at Burger Bob's. And if we accomplish what we wish to accomplish by the end of the summer, and Marion begins her Senior year in High School as Marianne, and enjoys being Marianne, I'll see to it that you win my firm's annual employee full scholarship to any four-year college of your choice, the money to be held in trust for you by your parents until you can use it. That will be a bonus that will need no explanation." I just stared at her. "Moreover, I'll pay whatever your expenses all summer. And that includes clothes. You'll be enormously helpful going on buying excursions with him, two girls together deciding on skirts and things. You know what girls are wearing these days. You can build his confidence by assuring him he'll fit right in with the other girls. Her confidence, I should say. Does that seem fair?" I still couldn't speak. "She'll be on her own once school begins, of course, because you'll have prepared her for that. But I'll want to keep you on retainer through all of next year, just in case something comes up that only you can handle. For my own peace of mind." This was beginning to sound like all the money I'd ever need for college. My parents want the best for me, but they aren't well off, and I'd been expecting to work my way through State, and then take a job to pay off the loans and debts, leaving graduate school a long way down the road. "JayCee? Will you help me? She doesn't have to be the Prom Queen when she graduates. Just an ordinary girl. I'd be so happy for her if only there's some boy she likes who'll take her to her prom, and if she's beautiful in her prom dress, and she can feel the magic I remember from that time of my life, when I was pretty and young and desireable, with everything ahead of me. I loved my own high school prom. That was the last time in my life I felt happy and alive when I woke up each morning, before that lying bastard I married swept away my girlhood, and all my beautiful dreams." She blinked and turned her face away from me, and took several deep breaths. Then she just kept looking away from me, looking out of her own kitchen window past my house. And waited. Was I being bought? Yes. Well, I thought, also no. His mother was right. What she was asking matched my own deepest feelings about boys and girls and what's most desireable. I would be doing Marianne a favor. I liked him. I could help him. I would be helping her too. And the money I'd earn would be real money. If it worked, if I could bring it off, I could go to any college or university that would have me, anywhere in the whole country. Well, I stood up to shake her hand. As she saw me reach out toward her, her whole body suddenly shook with a great sob, and then she opened her arms to me and rushed around the table. Then as we hugged each other she really began to cry, and I did too. I couldn't help it. She kissed my cheek and my neck, and I could feel her wet eyelashes. My eyes were wet too. I really was a co-conspirator, but it felt good. All in Marianne's best interest. I knew that when the dust settled she'd thank us for what we'd done. We broke our embrace and separated a little. Now we were two women conspiring together, but we still clasped each other like two girls dancing. She was so pleased! "Invite him over to use your pool tomorrow, would you?" his mother said. "And to spend the day? He'll say 'No,' of course, but be sure to leave quickly before you can hear him say it, and I'll see that he gets there. Then you'll see soon enough what his problem is, what our problems are. And I'm sure you'll begin to cope." His voice came from the cellar. "Mom? It's all set up now! Let's try it!" The two of us grinned at each other. I never saw a woman so happy. "JayCee? Please sit for a moment more, dear. At least tell me how you got your name." "It's what my Dad said when he first saw me, right after I was born. Or it's the initials, anyhow. He'd wanted a boy, and the nurse just held me up new born and naked for him to see, and when he saw my cunt he just said it out loud without thinking. My Mom liked what he'd said, what she thought he'd named me, but she didn't think a girl should have a boy's name. Not that boy's name, anyhow. So they settled for the initals, spelled out sort of. I like it." Jane smiled at me, and nodded some more. "I'm very lucky to know you, JayCee. I can't believe how lucky I am! You know, we used to live across the state in another town about this size, and I've got a client there with a son named Petey, and Petey once told me an extraordinary tale about a teenage girl in this town who helped him discover himself, and how cleverly she did it. I've been hoping to meet her so she could help me too. In fact, that's why I bought this house in this neighborhood, near you. To create opportunities. I can tell you that, now that we understand each other, and now that you're on the payroll. No secrets, right?" I just stared at her. What an extraordinary businesswoman! If she was as resourceful and persuasive with her clients as she'd just been with me, she must be very wealthy by now, I thought. No wonder she can afford to hire me, and even pay my full college costs for four years, and probably her daughter's too when Marion becomes her daughter, and yet here she is living in a small house in a modest part of town, where most kids can't afford college at all. She really does love her son. Her daughter. "Jane," I said. "I'm very lucky to know you too. I hope we'll become very good friends. There's so much you can teach me." She beamed. "I just may end up with two daughters," she said happily, "Where I've had none. That's just lovely! So very lovely!" Then she shouted down the cellar stairs. "Marianne! Come on up now! JayCee wants to ask you something!" I stood up to deliver my invitation and then make my getaway as she'd suggested, before Marianne could say "No!" And that's what I did. end3/9 Vickie Tern@AOL.COM -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |