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From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger)
Subject: RP TG: A Change of Direction (2/22) (Magic, TG)
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A Change of Direction Part 2
by Tigger Copyright 1997, all rights reserved.

Archiving/publication of this author's work on any system that
requires payment in any form is prohibited by the author and
is in violation of my copyright to Chapters 7 and beyond. No archiving
or redistribution of this work is permitted without this copyright
attribution included, intact and complete, in the posting/archiving. 


Chapter 8


"Where the hell was he?" his still sleep fogged mind demanded. 
Slowly, he fought his way to full wakefulness and tried to
take stock of his surroundings.  Nothing was familiar. 
Nothing was as it had been when he had fallen asleep or as it
had been for the last four years of his life.  Only his window
that overlooked Mum's garden was where it belonged, but
everything else was. . . . wrong.

His basketball poster, his model planes and cars, his sports
memorabilia - every single thing that had been his was gone. 
In their place were odd, fragile looking little nick-nacks,
crystal statues, dolls and a rock singer poster.  A male rock
singer that Jack could not stand in the least.

And all *his* furniture was gone, too, replaced by a very
feminine, ivory colored ensemble.  Even the bed he'd fallen
asleep in was gone, replaced instead by a frill-laden canopy
bed.

Mother.  It had to be Mother.  His hands came up to cup the
soft mounds of flesh that now a part of him.  It had not been
just a dream, after all.  A nightmare, maybe, and from the
looks of his room, Mother had used her magic to up the ante
while he'd slept.

He started to get out of bed and nearly fell when instinctive
movements learned over the course of a lifetime did not take
into account his new center of gravity.  Overbalanced by his
new weight distribution, he only just caught himself on the
bed frame. Carefully, and with a great deal of conscious
effort, he rose again and moved about to inspect "his" room
more closely.

His large dresser had been replaced by an ornate armoire while
his desk had become a vanity table covered with a variety of
tubes, bottles and pots that held things he really did not
want to think about.  On entering his walk-in closet, he was
greeted by nothing but rows of empty hangers and shelves. 

Every hint of his male identity had been ripped from the room,
as ruthlessly and as completely as his masculinity had been
ripped from him.

In stunned disbelief, Jack stood there in the door to his
closet and quietly mourned the loss of all the little prizes
and treasures of a lifetime.  A stray lock of hair fell across
his face and resisted his best effort to clear it out of his
eyes.

Slowly, he walked over to the vanity and found the very
feminine hairbrush he knew would be there.  His mother was
nothing if not attentive to the fine details. Jack quickly
came to rue that he'd never gone through a "long-hair" stage
as a male so that he could have known how to deal with the
shaggy mane. Brushing that tangled black mass was itself a
tortuous experience in self abuse.  He quietly admitted to
himself he should have listened to Mum's advice and brushed it
out more thoroughly the previous morning.  

He brushed it furiously until he could not find any more
snarls and then tried to figure out how to keep the damn stuff
out of his face.  Rubber bands seemed the simplest solution,
and soon his mane was gathered behind his head.  It was not
elegant, but he could see again.  A butch cut was looking
better and better to him.

What to wear was the next question and there was only one
answer immediately evident.  A pair of white panties and a
folded white cotton terrycloth robe rested on the cushioned
stool in front of the vanity table.  A pair of pink rubber
shower slippers, rested beside the stool on the floor.  

Jack stripped off the sweatshirt and man's jogging shorts he
had worn since yesterday and donned the garments his mother
had left for him.  He was disappointed, but not especially
surprised, when his discarded clothes had simply disappeared
before his eyes. 

As ready as he was likely to be, Jack moved out of the
relative sanctuary of his room, and went off to face his
Mother.  He found her seated at the kitchen table, sipping
coffee, a plate of toast in front of her.  Her chin rested
heavily in the palm of her free hand.  Dark smudges bagged
under her half open eyes and fatigue lines cut starkly into
her normally smooth face.

Walking past her to pour a cup for himself, he turned back to
her.  "Busy night, Mother-darling?" he asked with heavy irony,
as he sat down across from her.

She cocked one of her eyes at him, but displayed no other
emotion at his jibe.  "Obviously, Jacqueline.  There was a lot
that had to be done if we were going to be able to start your
training today."  She reached down and pulled up a stack of
papers from the chair beside her and slid them across the
table.  "You will need these.  ID's, driver's license, health
insurance card and all your other personal effects and
accounts, but all now set up in the name of Jacqueline Donovan
instead of John."

"And my friends?  The people who know me?"

"Now remember only Jacqueline, and as for friends, some
adjustments had to be made there, too.  You have a history of
being one of the girls instead of one of the boys.  You are
the cheerleader instead of the cheered. And before you jump on
me, no, you don't have a boy friend.  Given your looks, that
may raise some issues for you, but I figured you would rather
deal with those questions instead having to deal with a man."

Jack's face fell as he took it all in.  Finally, he sighed and
took a bracing sip of his coffee.  "So, my life is wiped as
clean as everything that was mine was blotted out of my room. 
Is nothing mine, anymore, Mother?"

She was simply too tired to argue with him.  The magic she had
expended the night before had taken its toll on all her
resources.  She was exhausted and needed rest.  "Had to be
done.  Step one of your trip back to your old male self. 
Every little reminder of your masculinity will set back your
progress.  Remember, the requirement is that you must fully
acclimate to being a woman."  She looked up and saw the pain
in her daughter's face and immediately understood.  "Oh, don't
look that way." she said disgustedly.  "None of your things
are gone forever.  The instant your chromosomes are XY again,
they will reappear.  Just like magic."

Jack could not quite hid the glimmer of a smile at her little
joke, but tried anyway. "So, what is the plan for today,
teacher?  What little punishments are on the docket, today?"

Laurie wanted to scream, but didn't.  It wouldn't do any good
and she needed to conserve what energy she still had.  With a
calmness that did not remotely resemble her actual feelings,
she answered, "As long as you consider it punishment,
Jacqueline, we might as well do nothing.  Get this straight,
okay?  You have to work at this.  Moreover, you have to want
it.  It would be best and perhaps even easiest, if you could
want the experience for itself, for the simple pleasure of
being a beautiful woman.  But if you cannot want it for that,
then at least want it because it is the only way you are going
to achieve your goal."

With great effort, Laurie used both hands to push herself to
her feet.  She kicked a shopping bag over to Jack.  "You have
two tasks today, one fairly simple; the other will apparently
not be so simple.  In that bag you will find a full set of
clothes in your new sizes.  Skin out.  You need to learn how
to dress yourself, and to get used to how women's clothes feel
on your body.  I suggest you dress and undress yourself
several times until you get the hang of it."  A sly grin
momentarily lit her face.  "There are several pairs of hose in
there since you will probably run the first couple of pairs. 
Try to get it right before you ruin the last pair."

"It might be easier if you would try not to have quite so much
fun with this at my expense, Mother."  Jack said darkly.

Her momentary pleasure instantly evaporated.  "I wanted to
have fun doing all of this with you, Jacqueline.  I'd always
believed that when this time came for us, I would relive
through you all the lovely and joyful things I discovered with
my own mother when she taught me.  Can't you let me have what
little crumbs of pleasure that fall my way in this?"

Jack was not going to let her make him feel small in this.  He
wasn't - this was her fault and if it was not as pleasurable
as she had wished it would be, well that was a small thing
compared to what she had done to him.  He ignored her question
and instead asked one of his own in a toneless, inflection-
less voice.  "You said there were two things I had to
accomplish today.  What was the other task?"

Recognizing the implicit rejection of her request, Laurie
responded in equally cold tones of her own.  "You need to
start thinking of yourself in the feminine.  Understand that I
can hear your thoughts, feel your emotions, Jacqueline.  You
are trying to perpetuate the image of yourself as a man stuck
in a woman's body."

"Well, that is exactly what I am, thanks to you!" he snarled.

"As long as that is what you think you are, that is all you
will be, daughter.  And we can go no further in your training
until you start accepting the reality of your female state." 
Laurie turned and walked back to stand before her child. 
"Believe me, Jacqueline, if I could somehow undo the
Transformation, or if I could somehow go back in time and make
it so that none of this ever happened, I would do it.  No
matter what the cost to myself.  If my last drop of heart's
blood would make you what you long to be, I would cut my
wrists here and now.  But those are not options.  Only you can
do what needs be done."  She absently brushed an escaped lock
of black hair from Jacqueline's eyes.  "Only you.  I am going
up to bed and get some rest.  Later today, we will go out and
get you some more clothes."  She spun on her heel and left the
room.

Jack, no, *Jacqueline* sat sipping *her* coffee in the eerie
silence.  He, dammit, *she* was at a loss about what to do
next.  This thinking in the female tense was going to be a
bitch.

*She* sat there for a little more than an hour, practicing
*her* feminine thinking.  Toward the end of *her* mental
recitation period, *she* only had to correct him, blast,
*her*self about every fifth or sixth time.  Progress was
progress, *she* supposed.  Maybe it would even be good enough
for a start, anyway.  There was one problem, though.  Maybe it
was a holdover from the way *her* Mother had introduced him,
err, *her* to *her* new self, but one thing was very, very
clear.

He/She/Whatever _*hated*_ the name "Jacqueline" and
He/She/Whatever _*always*_ would!

Well, there was not much to be done about it now.  Not with
all those records already done.  *She* did not know much about
how magic really worked, but *she* did know that changing all
those records and memories had cost *her* mother dearly, and
the strength Mum had expended doing that magic would not
likely be replenished any time soon.

Sighing, *she* decided that it was not a battle worth fighting
and picked up the bag with his, no, make that *her* new
clothes and trudged off to practice dressing.

Five hours later, Laurie, alert and refreshed, came downstairs
where she found her daughter sprawled on the sofa watching the
24-hour news channel.  Apart from her ungainly and totally
unladylike posture, Laurie's discerning eyes (and other, less
common senses) could find definite improvements since that
morning.  The simple knit sweater and skirt set had been
selected because they would not pose too many challenges for
her daughter who still thought and acted like a son.  No
buttons on the "wrong" side, no zippers in the back - just a
simple, loose pullover sweater blouse that draped casually
over the waist of an equally loose, knee length skirt that
zipped up the side.  The pantyhose weren't rent from ankle to
thigh with ladders and runs, and the simple black pumps with
only the merest hint of a heel fit perfectly. 

Jacqueline had not ventured so far as to try any of the
cosmetics her Mother had carefully selected and arrayed on her
vanity, but she had made a fairly good attempt at taming that
gorgeous hair of hers.  She had done a reasonably good job
figuring out how to put on the hair band that pulled the
curling mass away from her face.  Of course, that particular
invention was probably the daughter of necessity since seeing
clearly through long hair was annoying at best.

"I can see that deportment and posture will be among our first
lessons." she said aloud.  Her voice obviously startled her
child for she jumped and nearly slipped off the couch in her
surprise.  "Well, Jacqueline, stand up, please and let me get
a good look at you."

The eyes that met Laurie's were still cold and distant, but
with great deliberation, the body moved to obey her request. 
Stage one begins, she thought - sullen, malicious compliance
to any order, intermixed with enough body language to show
just how obnoxious you and obeying you really are.  Laurie
moved behind her daughter, as much to gain a moment's respite
from those eyes as to check out the rest of the outfit.  "You
need to be more careful with laying out your skirts before you
sit, dear.  The back of your skirt is frightfully wrinkled and
crushed from the way you sat upon it, Jacqueline."


"Jackie."

The response was not at all what she was expecting and Laurie
was momentarily at a loss for words.  "I beg your pardon?"

"I wish to be called Jackie.  I detest the name Jacqueline -
it reminds me too much of our confrontation yesterday and last
night and therefore is non-productive - like the possessions I
*used* to love and own.  Since I suspect that you won't have
the strength to change the world for me again anytime soon,
Jackie is the best compromise I can come up with."

"I see.  That may be difficult for me as Jacqueline was the
name I had chosen for you since you were born.  That is really
why you were called Jack. Since I always knew it would be my
duty to bring you to your full powers by exposing you to the
Transformation Spell, you have always been Jacqueline in my
heart."

That had been the wrong thing to say and Laurie knew it the
instant she saw her child's face.  "I was not born female and
I will not respond to Jacqueline, so get used to calling me
Jackie or perhaps just "hey, you" will do.  What is in your
heart is not something I am greatly concerned with at this
point in my life, Mother."

Laurie coughed to choke back the sob.  "Very well.  Jacqu... I
mean, Jackie.  I will try."

The love Jackie still felt for his Mother twisted inside her
own heart and he, dammit again, *she* tried to make it a
little easier for both of them.  "It will do you good, Mum, to
have to stop and consider *your* words before you speak or
even think.  It will give you an idea of how hard thinking of
myself as *she* and *her* has been and continues to be for me. 
Tell you what, we can spell my new call name with a 'cq',
instead of a 'ck'.  Jacqui." She spelled the name out aloud. 
"How's that for a compromise?  Best deal you are going to get
today."

A little bubble of hope rose in Laurie's breast.  "Okay." she
whispered and then added.  "Sounds fair." She shook off the
emotion.  They had much yet to do this day.  "So, I will ask
how the dressing up practice went since I can already sense
your effort to think 'girl'.  I applaud you progress there, by
the way."  You only have about 99.99% of the way yet to go,
but that is further then I expected to find you given the way
you reacted this morning, she thought.  "So, are you ready to
go shopping for new clothes?  You need skirts, blouses,
dresses, shoes and of course, some lovely knickers and other
undies." she dropped her eyes to Jacqui's legs.  "How many of
your pantyhose are left intact?"

A rosy blush crept up her daughter's cheeks.  "Ummm. Just
these." Laurie cocked an eyebrow.  "They, uhhh, seemed to run
awfully easy."

"Those were the industrial strength, heavy weave nylon, dear,
designed specifically *not* to run.  I suppose you just tried
to pull them on like trousers?" A hesitant nod was her answer. 
"Yes, well, there are tricks I will teach you before you put
on any of the really silky stockings we will buy today.  Any
other troubles?"

Another, even redder blush and a cough to clear her throat. 
"The bra.  I am not flexible enough to reach behind me and
latch it while trying to look in the mirror.  I finally had to
hook the thing in front and then spin it around behind me."

"Good on you, girl.  That works, particularly with everyday
things.  Some of the frilly stuff might need a little gentler
hand, but we can work up to those.  Other than that, how do
you feel in those clothes?"

"Underdressed.  I notice drafts a lot.  Very uncomfortable."

Laurie nodded.  The answers were honest and were to be
expected.  At least Jacqui was talking with her with some
degree of openness again.  "All right, then.  You will get
used to those feelings.  We'll have you turned out to a fair-
thee-well after today and you will have ample opportunity to
get used to skirts and their little foibles and traps."

"What about trousers, jeans?  I would like some jeans,
Mother."

That was a problem.  Mentally saying goodbye to their
momentary peace, Laurie answered.  "That is not in your best
interest, dear.  You already know how to wear pants.  You will
learn what it is to be a woman much more quickly if you work
at being an especially feminine woman.  You have so much to
learn in a short time.  Don't forget, besides your own goals
in this, you will start school again in a few weeks. You will
need a whole range of behaviors at your command to deal with
school as a girl instead of as a boy."

"Just one pair?  For knocking about?  Won't it seem strange to
my girlfriends if I never wear anything but dresses and
skirts?" Jacqui pleaded.  "How about if I promise to always
wear my frilliest bra and knickers when I wear the jeans?"

Pleased that Jacqui had not gotten her back up, Laurie smiled. 
"All right, but just one pair.  They will be very, very tight
and you will also agree to wear only high heeled shoes when
you wear the jeans, too." That would serve two purposes,
Laurie thought.  It was nearly impossible to forget you were a
girl when wearing jeans that were a couple of sizes too small,
and it would get her daughter into real heels more quickly.

"Heels?" Jacqui momentarily bridled, but then deflated. 
"Okay, I agree."

"Let's go get ready to leave.  Your purse is with mine in the
foyer and your new ID are already in it." Laurie turned toward
the front door.

"Mum?" The name she had not heard without sarcasm in over 48
hours brought her up short.  She turned and cocked a brow at
Jacqui.  "Two things, first.  One, I want to see a doctor - a
real one, not one of your witch cronies.  I want advice on
birth control and I don't want you to interfere in any way or
to try to stop me."

Laurie understood where that was coming from.  Jacqui was
starting to understand the full erotic potential and demands
of her new body.  She was still female because she had been
unable to resist the demands of her new sexuality.  Conceiving
a child was not on her agenda, *yet*, and she was trying to
take action to avoid getting caught between some guy and her
own burgeoning hormones.

"All right.  We can select one of your choice from the phone
book, completely at random if that will make you feel more
comfortable.  However, you should understand that the proper
term for the type of doctor you want is a gynecologist." The
"so-what" look that revelation elicited made Laurie decide to
change the subject. "One other thing, dear.  You need to know
something about Transformed women.  Whether we use
contraception or not, we get pregnant when we want the child
of the man making love to us."

"I want to see a doctor, Mother, and I want birth control."
Jacqui's tone brooked no further discussion on the issue.

Sighing, Laurie wondered what the girl was thinking. 
Obviously, she did not believe her regarding the effectiveness
of the contraceptives. "Very well.  We can set up the
appointment right now and go as soon as the doctor can see
you.  I can go with you or you can go alone, but you have my
personal word of honor, that I will do nothing to influence or
impede you in any way.  And the other thing?"  The look of
relief on Jacqui's face was painful to Laurie who was only
just beginning to really understand how thoroughly she had
shattered her only child's faith and trust in her.

"I'd like to get my hair cut.  Lots of women have short hair. 
I don't want to have to deal with this mop for the rest of my
time as a woman."

Damn, damn, damn! thought Laurie.  "Jacqui, could we hold off
on that, please?  At least for a little while, until you have
had a chance to learn how to care for your hair?  You can
always get it cut, but it will take months and months to grow
it back.  I think you should wear it long, just as I think you
should stick to skirts and dresses, but if, after a reasonable
attempt to live with it, you still want to cut it, then I
won't stand in your way."

"I could just hack it off in my room, Mother." the frustration
was back in her daughter's voice.

"Yes, you could.  If you get to the point where you are that
unhappy with it, then tell me and we will go straight off to
the beauty parlor.  Please, Jacqui, all I am asking is that
you give me a chance, luv."  Her eyes were wide with entreaty
as she looked at Jacqui.  "Please." She said again.

The pleading in his, *her* mother's voice touched that hurting
core of love inside Jacqui.  "All right.   I will give it two
weeks, halfway until school opens.  That should give you time
to teach me how to deal with it so that it does not get in my
way.  If it is still a hassle after that, it goes.  Fair
enough?"

"Fair enough.  Now, can we please go? I want to go
**SHOPPING** with my daughter."

"Shopping." There was a world of difference in the way the two
women said the word.  "You sure you can't just get everything
mail order?  I'd wait."

"Over my dead body, young lady. I am determined to enjoy this
and nothing is going to ruin it for me. Now move that cute
butt and let's go."

End Part 2


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