Message-ID: <15696eli$9809290529@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/15696.txt>
From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger)
Subject: New TG: A Losing Season 7 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
X-Authentication-Warning: philabs-gw.philabs.research.philips.com: smap set sender to <news@winter.news.erols.com> using -f
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <3618543d.1201376@news.erols.com>

A Losing Season - An Alternative Ending to Seasons of Change
Part VII
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 24.  Fond Farewell

Excerpt: Michelle's Diary 
August 28 - Day 43

Dear Diary

Well, tomorrow we drive to Providence to put David on the
plane for Illinois.  God only knows why, but he's decided he
wants to go to the University of Illinois at Urbana.  I know
this is right for Beth/David, but I am going to miss him.

Sandy just left.  She undid most of David's "beth-i-ness" - at
least everything that can be undone.  It was easier and more
effective *this* time since Jane hasn't made him get a
permanent since before. . .well, since before he left that
earlier time.  Anyway, most of the curl came out when Sandy
cut his hair this time.  It seemed very strange looking across
the dining table and seeing this male stranger with the shadow
of Beth's face.  My first instinct is to call him Beth, and I
know that I have to school myself to stop that.  Particularly
anytime in the future if and when we are around anyone who
knows or knew Beth.    

Since David does not have any family to speak of, he's asked
if he can come visit here at Jane's home for holidays and
such.  Jane said that since she wasn't taking in any new
students for the foreseeable future, she'd love to have him
come visit.  Then she added that, perhaps, I could use David
as my "away at college boyfriend" for after the New Year when
I go back to school, assuming that I do that as Michelle. 
Having a college age boy friend may help deflect a lot of the
unwanted male interest.

Unfortunately, I don't think that ploy is going to discourage
Dennis.  He hugged me today before he kissed my hand again.

I *don't* want to think about that now.  I am too busy being
sad about losing Beth.

Before he goes, there is something I have to do, something I
should have done a long time ago.

Michelle Nash

~-------------~

No one in the house slept well that night.  David was excited
about starting his new life and going to school.  Jane,
Michelle and Maria contemplated the loss of someone who had
become to Jane and Maria more than just another student, and
to Michelle the sister neither she nor Michael ever had.

They were all up before dawn since David's flight departed
Providence at seven am.  Breakfast was a somber affair with
none of them having very much to say.   The sun's first weak
rays were peaking over the horizon as they got into the
Lincoln for the trip to the airport.

The paperwork at the check-in desk went without problem, and
soon they were in the waiting area of David's departure gate.  

"Damn, David, but I am going to miss you." Michelle said when
the call came for his flight to board.

"I am going to miss you, too.  You have my new address,
Michelle, and I will call you just as soon as I have a phone
number so you can reach me that way, too."

Michelle reached out to take his right hand in hers.  "David?"
she said, her voice rough and shaky.  

"Yes, Michelle?"

"Thank you for saving my life all those weeks ago." Michelle's
grip on his hand tightened spasmodically.  "I know I'd be dead
if you had not come in there and fought me for my life.  And
thank you for coming back when you had every reason to run as
far from me as you could get."

"I'm . . I'm glad I was there in time, Michelle." David choked
out against the emotions welling up in him.  

The two young people stood transfixed, their hands together,
their eyes locked.  This moment would almost have been funny,
Jane thought, if it wasn't so sad.  If they had both been here
as males, they could have shaken hands, thumped each other
heartily on the back, perhaps even hugged.  If they had both
been here as females, they would have hugged, and maybe shared
a kiss on the cheek.  But this situation  was neither of
those, and they did not seem to know how to get past the
gender roles they were both fighting against.

Suddenly, Michelle shuddered.  "Oh, Hell!" she growled and
moved in to wrap her arms around David and hug him fiercely. 
David's arms came around Michelle and the two friends held one
another until Jane had to intervene.

"David," she said, putting a hand on each young person. 
"They're almost done loading the plane."  Reluctantly, David
and Michelle broke apart.  David turned and went into Jane's
arms for a hug and a quick, awkward kiss.  For all the
progress they had made in the past month and a half, Jane
still had trouble showing affection to one of her students,
and just now, she deeply regretted that.

"Thank you, Jane, for everything.  I love you."  David said
through his tears.  Embarrassed, he turned to the gate, only
to almost run over Michelle.

Michelle went up on her toes to whisper in her friend's ear.
"Be safe, David/Beth.  I will miss you, big sister." and then
planted a kiss of her own on his cheek.

"I have to go." was all David could get out.

Michelle and Jane watched in silence until the plane with
David disappeared into the western skies.  "Ready to leave,
now?" Jane asked.

Michelle dug about in her purse and pulled out a pair of
tissues.  She handed one to Jane.  "I guess, Aunt Jane,
although if I look as raccoon-eyed as you do, I think we both
need to make a quick trip to the ladies room.

Jane nodded and then led the way.  She paused just before
entering, and turned to Michelle. "By the way, remind me to
add two more demerits to the green book, dear."

"Two?!?!?" she sputtered, before beginning to laugh softly. 
"Yes, Aunt Jane.  I promise to remind you."

"Always on stage, pet." Jane reminded gently.  Michelle nodded
and then moved past Jane into the restroom.


Excerpt: Michelle's Diary 
August 29 - Day 44

Dear Diary

David just called to let us know he got there safely.  I am
glad he's safe, and happy for him that he has made it through
Jane's program.  As I understand it, the Judge will now seal
all of the records and it will be as if he had been tried as a
juvenile, effectively giving him a clean slate.  He deserves
it.  He is a wonderful guy and Beth was a wonderful sister.

I've even forgiven her for helping Jane to set me up all those
weeks ago.  Before the incident, that is.  It is not like Jane
gave David/Beth any choice in the matter.

Dinner was strange.  Must have been a half a dozen times one
of us turned towards Beth's chair to say something to her. 
Heck, Maria even forgot and set a place for her, just like
always.

I don't know what possessed me today, to hug him like that and
then to plant one on his cheek.  It just happened.  It was
like that I simply *needed* to express the depth of what I was
feeling for him and those were the only things that came close
to expressing that.

As I said, I don't know why I did those things, but I am glad
that I did.  I know now that I would always have regretted not
doing them.

It is going to be hard without Beth.  I am still afraid about
developing really close friendships with any of the girls at
Caro's, and Denny is making me increasingly nervous.  I feel
more isolated and more alone than I have in all the days since
I left St. Andrews.

Another downer is the two demerits Jane assessed me at the
airport.  By my count, that puts me somewhere over the magic
hundred, so I guess I'm a little surprised Jane did not tell
me to report for my well earned mouthful of soap tonight. 
Maybe she has just decided today has been bad enough and is
letting it go until tomorrow.  

At least I lasted longer this time than last time.

Yuck.

Michelle Nash.


A Losing Season: Chapter 25.  Just Showin' Off

Michelle had hung back after the other girls had all rushed
out of the Marisha Chalet following Caro's class.  She really
needed to talk to someone and after a great deal of thought,
had decided that Carolyn might be the best person to start
with.  She could have tried Jane, but it was just so
embarrassing and Michelle still remembered her times with Jane
before her thankfully unsuccessful suicide entirely too well
to completely trust the other woman with something so personal
and so potentially humiliating.

Having finished collecting her cosmetics and cleaning up after
a dozen girls, Caro looked up and noticed Michelle was still
in the shop for the first time.  They had been working on eyes
today, complete with false eyelashes.  The girl's eyes looked
huge, haunting - it was just incredible.  She had to stifle a
momentary spurt of envy, and wished that such sexy eyes had
not been wasted on a boy.  She sighed and began arranging the
tubes, bottles and boxes on their storage shelf.  "You waiting
for Jane, 'Chell?" Caro asked, using the nickname both she and
Sandy had taken to using.  

For her own part, Michelle could not decide whether she liked
the nickname or not, but now was not the time to quibble about
something as minor as that.  "Not until I call. . . ummmm, . . 
Carolyn, could I talk to you for a few moments . . . out
back?"  Out back was the private room behind the main salon. 
Out back was where Sandy and Carolyn worked their evil magic
on Jane's boys, at least until the lads became sufficiently
lady-like to pass the scrutiny of the outer salon.

Surprised by the request, Carolyn nonetheless agreed since she
had no appointments the rest of the afternoon.  Once they were
behind closed doors, Caro asked, "What's up?  Problems?  One
of the girls looking at you too closely?"

"No. . .nothing like that.  Caro. . . your husband,. . . ummm,
he was one of Jane's students, wasn't he?"

"No harm in telling you that.  Yes, he was.  And since I knew
him before Jane and loathed him as a real jerk, that is one of
the reasons I elected to help Jane."

Michelle nodded.  That was what Beth had said.  "Carolyn,
forgive me for asking this, and don't answer if it offends
you, but I don't know who else to ask.  Did your husband ever
mention. . . feeling really feminine. . " and here the girl's
face went scarlet under her new makeup job.  "Ummm feminine,
around guys." it all came out in a rush.

Momentarily taken aback by both the question and the manner,
Carolyn could only stare at Michelle for several agonizingly
long moments.  Then she cleared her throat.  "Not that he ever
mentioned to me, dear.  Am I to infer from this that you are
feeling . . .or have felt feminine that way?"  There was no
mockery or sarcasm in Carolyn's voice - only concern.

"Last night. . . after dance class.  Jane was a little late
and Dennis walked me to the door.  When Jane wasn't there, he
. .  well, he pulled me into a corner, away from the front
window. . and . . .and" tears started to form little black
rivulets down her cheek.

Fear clutched at Caro's throat, afraid of what she might
learn.  "What did he do, Michael?" she asked firmly, hoping
the use of his male name would bolster him.

"He kissed me. . . with his tongue, Caro. . . and I *let* him. 
How could I just let him do that?  I mean, I am a guy, too. 
Aren't I?"

The relief that it had not been worse washed over Carolyn and
she was hard pressed not to laugh.  "I take it that the
experience was not unpleasant?"

"No." was the soft response. "I actually got . . .well,
excited."

"As in you became erect?" she asked, already knowing the
answer.  Michelle nodded again.  "Okay, luv.  Look, we need to
talk to Jane about this, and probably to that psychologist you
are working with.  I don't know if my darling hubby ever felt
that way, but then, Jane never allowed him to be in
uncontrolled situations where something like that could
happen.  Until you, Jane was always scrupulously careful to
protect her girls from things like boys and sex.  Even when it
didn't seem that she was."

"I am so scared, Caro.  It is all . . . so outside of anything
I have ever had to deal with before."

"I expect that it would be, dear, but then, isn't *everything*
you've experienced with Jane outside of anything you've ever
had to deal with before?"

"Well, yes., but. . "

"But, nothing.  Look at yourself.  You are totally immersed in
an intensely feminine experience.  I don't think it is
unrealistic to expect that you might respond to many
situations the same as a born female would."  At the darkening
of Michelle's face, Carolyn held up a hand in restraint.  "Let
me ask you something, dear.  What does Michael think of Anna?"

The answer was immediate. "She's the prettiest, nicest girl I
have ever met."

"And what would *Michael* like to do with her?"

The smooth forehead above the finely shaped brows wrinkled in
concentration.  "I'd really like to get to know her better. .
.maybe go out together. . .that sort of stuff."

"What does Michael think about maybe kissing Anna."

She almost laughed when a look of sheer masculine anticipation
flitted across the very feminine face.  "Oh, yeah." he
breathed, and it was definitely Michael who'd responded.  

They sat there quietly for a few minutes as Carolyn gave
Michelle/Michael some room to deal with these new and
uncomfortable ideas and emotions.

"So, this is part of being - really being Michelle?"

"Maybe it is part of *you* being Michelle, dear.  I don't
think you have to worry about it, dear.  Just talk about it
with Jane and the doctor, okay?" and she reached over to help
the girl to her feet and begin walking to the door.

"Okay, Caro.  Thank you.  You have helped.  A great deal." and
she stopped and planted a soft kiss on the older woman's
cheek. "Thank you very much." she said again.

"My pleasure." she replied, showing Michelle back into the
main salon.  A chiming bell caught their attention and they
turned to see the shop's outer door opening to admit Brenda
Franson - a very harried looking Brenda Franson.

"Caro. . . are any of your girls from your Wednesday class
still here?  One of the models for tonight's fashion show is
ill, and there are just too many outfits for the others to
handle in the scheduled time.  I need someone else."

"Only Michelle, Brenda.  The others were out the door like my
place *was* school and not a beauty salon."

The other woman's face fell.  "I don't know what to do.  This
is a very important show.  Several of the Newport matrons are
bringing the daughters to see gowns for the fall Harvest
Ball."

"Well, then, how about Michelle?" Caro offered.  Both Michelle
and Brenda just gaped at her.  "Well, she is the prettiest of
the lot, you know." she added defensively.

"But she is not very tall, and besides. . .*she* is not really
a she." Mrs. Franson protested.

"And how would I change, Caro. . .all the other women would
see that I am wearing falsies, and I couldn't take off my
panties. . .they'd see the gaff."

"That's no problem. . . we could say you are very shy, and
since you agreed to help at the very last minute, Brenda is
going to let you change in her office.  We'd have to pick
outfits that are not cut too low in the bodice, or that are
designed not to show a lot of cleavage, but I don't think
Brenda would be showing too many outfits like this to the
royal mamas anyway.  Would you, Brenda?"

The other woman's eyes became pensive as she weighed the
options and considered the possible consequences. "How are you
in heels, Michelle?"

"Okay in anything three inches or less, but who said I would
do it?" Michelle asked indignantly.

"Would you?  Please?" Brenda asked softly.  "I really am in a
bind, and it would be a great favor."

Having this woman owe her a favor appealed to Michelle.  "I
could use your office to change in?" she negotiated.  Brenda
nodded immediately.  Then Michelle turned her eye on Caro. 
"And since *you* got me into this mess, it is only fair that
you come with me and make sure that my makeup, hair and
disguise are all perfect, don't you think, Carolyn of Marisha
Chalet?"

"I'd give your shop a plug during the show." Brenda added
quickly to the other woman.  "All those women with all that
money to spend on their darling daughters." she cajoled. "You
could even come out and take a bow afterwards."

"Okay, okay." Caro laughed.  "Let me get my tools and we'll be
there in a few minutes, Brenda.  Meanwhile, you select the
right dresses for the second coming of Miss Christy Brinkley 
here and get them into your office."

Michelle was shocked speechless when the formerly cold Brenda
Franson pulled her into a tight hug, saying "Thank you,
Michelle, I really appreciate this."  She just stood there,
staring, as the dress shop owner hustled back to her store to
do as Carolyn had directed.

"Oh my god.  What have I gotten myself into now?"

Excerpt: Michelle's Diary 
September 2- Day 48

Dear Diary

My feet are *killing* me.  Unfortunately, when I said I would
help Brenda Franson at her store tonight, I didn't know that I
would have to choose between only two sizes of shoe.  Too
large and too small.  And since I probably would have walked
right out of the larger ones, we had to use the too small
pairs.  They were only a half size too small, but when they
are high heels, that half size is quite a bit.  And oh by the
way, I measured the heel on those darn things after the show. 
Four inches, easily.  Every frippin' one of them.

Still, it actually turned out to be a lot of fun.  I got quite
a bit of teasing from the professional models, over my
"shyness".  I mean, they just rush into the main room, pulling
stuff off as they run to where the next outfit has been laid
out for them.  Since they did not know my "shyness" is spelled 
p. .e. . n. . i. .s, they did not realize what kind of show
they were putting on in the dressing room.  Good thing I have
been wearing that damned gaff to Caro's classes.  It *hurt*
like a . . .. well, you get the idea.

And the dresses were neat.  Having Caro come to help was
inspired on my part, even if my initial motivation had more to
do with fear than with a desire for success.  Caro made
getting into each outfit a lot easier and her skill with
makeup gave me a whole lot more confidence than I would have
had if I'd had to do up my face all by myself.

Brenda let me miss the first rotation and just watch what the
professional models did when they strutted down the walkway in
front of the assembly.  When that first set of dress showings
was about half done, I went back into the dressing room and
tried to mimic some of their movements and gestures while
having Caro critique me.  Moving like that is NOT easy. I
think the too small shoes may have helped, though.  It is
practically impossible to over stride when your toes are
screaming.

Caro literally had to push me out onto the stage that first
time.  God, I was as scared then as I ever can remember being. 
The funny thing is that I was not really afraid of being
unmasked.  Somehow, I knew I was beautiful and all anyone was
going to see was a pretty girl in a lovely dress.  No, I was
just afraid of messing up.  Like tripping over my feet in
those infernal heels and ending up in the lap of some society
matron.

Finally, Caro whispered at me to "MOVE!" and I moved.  I am
still surprised my legs did not give out on me during that
first pass down and back. All I could think of was keeping my
head erect and steady so I would not drop Conan-Dolye on my
toes.  I was shaking all over, but once I made it back to the
top of the runway, I started feeling a little better.

By the finale, I thought I was actually doing a rather good
job of it.  I was certainly moving more freely, more
confidently, and so what if my hand movements and
presentations were not quite as practiced as those of the
professionals.  Caro said I was the perfect little
exhibitionist.  I don't know about that, but it sure was fun
struttin' my stuff and showing off - frantic, but fun.

In fact, after the show, Caro said she'd overheard one of the
audience tell Brenda that the "little blond one was perfect. 
Now I know just what my daughter will look like in that dress
and won't have to worry that what I liked was the professional
model and not the dress."  Made me feel pretty good inside.

What made me feel even better was having Brenda come running
into the office and practically squeeze the stuffing out of me
after the show was over.  She had gotten several immediate
orders from the show's attendees, and three of them were for
dresses I had modeled.  She *even* offered to pay me - and
then was offended when I told her she did not need to because
I already owed her for her help on the Committee.

She finally told me that was okay, but the next time, she was
paying me at the going rate for models.

The *next* time?  Well, I guess there will be one. . . maybe
more.  Brenda is thinking of having the girls from the
Wednesday afternoon class take over a lot of her modeling
work.  Particularly if it involves teenage fashions.  I sure
would have liked to see Anna in that low cut, off the shoulder
blue satin sheath one of the models wore.

I have also talked to Jane about Dennis.  She said she'd speak
to his Mother if I thought that might help, but she felt that
my feelings about being kissed were natural and not a problem. 
Like Caro, she pointed out that I still was aroused by girls. 
I am relieved, but it is as much for that almost hard-on
through the gaff when those models went down to bare skin in
front of me as for anything else.  Hard physical evidence,
don't you think?

I am beat.

Michelle Nash

Jane sat in her garden, enjoying the silence of the warm
September night.  Brenda had called to ask Jane to thank
Michelle again for stepping in and helping her, and to see if
Jane could not convince the child to accept at least a modest
payment.  Jane wondered idly if Michelle fully understood what
she had done this day.  Probably not.  She was probably
glowing over the compliments and the attention, and pleased
that she had managed to pull off the deception under those
conditions.

First, the girl had begun to learn real poise under pressure
today.  Carolyn had said that it was like you could see the
girl's confidence in her personal power growing with each new
dress and with each trek down and back on the runway.  That
confidence would pay real dividends in a month or so when her
girl had to decide which path she would take - Michael's or
Michelle's.

But it was the second aspect of today's rite of passage that
pleased Jane the most.  Even as afraid of being quite so
publically under the microscope as Jane knew she was, her girl
had been willing to help Brenda.  The old Michael, the
troublemaking instigator of St. Andrews Academy, would not
have been so willing.  He certainly would not have turned down
payment for his help afterwards.  Hell, he would have held her
up for every cent he could squeeze out of her, even though he
had absolutely no need for the money.  No, she had simply
decided to help a person that she had reason to hold a grudge
against, and had not given the matter another thought after
making the decision.

That made Jane very proud of her Michelle.


A Losing Season: Chapter 26: Just Deserts

Excerpt: Michelle's Diary 
September 30- Day 76

Dear Diary

Well, it is less than a week until yours truly must make a
decision - whether to stay Michelle and proceed with my plans
vis a vis my Mother.  Or to let go of that anger and hurt,
revert to Michael, and simply get on with my life.

I'd rather expected this to be an easier choice, but that is
not the case.  I feel very at odds with myself over this.

For starters, one thing that I thought would push me towards
abandoning this charade was living *as* Michelle.  I figured
it might be difficult and humiliating.  With the exception of
my three bouts of soap in the mouth syndrome, my life as
Michelle has been neither of those things.  I guess I have a
talent for the role, because I seem to have picked up on most
things pretty easily.

And of course, I must admit that confronting my Mother with
the loss of her son as Michelle still holds a great deal of
appeal.  I am not so sure I particularly *like* that little
home truth about myself, but it remains a fact that I want to
do . . . something to her.  What Jane and I have planned seems
somehow less malicious than showing her up in front of her
friends.

On the downside, if I stay as Michelle, I am going to have to
do something about good old Dennis.  The guy will simply not
give up.  I have tried everything, short of endangering his
ability to father future generations, to discourage him, but
he just keeps coming on to me.  Even when I showed him the
"pre-engagement ring" Jane gave to wear, saying it was from
David, he still tried to kiss me in the dark corners at his
Mother's studio.  When I told him that was not very honorable,
making a move on another man's girl when he was not around to
protect what was his, he just laughed.  Said that David was a
fool, and a pre-engagement ring is not an engagement ring, so
I was still "fair game".

Makes me sound like a damned rabbit trying to scurry away and
into my rabbit hole.

Part of the problem is that I really do like him.  He makes me
really laugh, and I enjoy laughing.  Never did much of it
before I came here - not real laughing, that is.  Mostly at
St. Andrews, the laughter was *at* someone else's expense, and
that cheapened the pleasure of it, although I did not know it
then.  Now I do know, and that is in part due to Dennis.

He calls me on the days we don't have dance class.  We just
talk about stuff, and before I quite know it, we've been at it
for almost an hour.  It makes Jane smile - one of those smiles
that makes the hair on my neck stand on end.

For the past few days, he has been bugging me to go with him
to his school's Harvest Festival Dance.  The dance is in
October, a few days after Jane and I are scheduled to be back
from Nevada on my "end of trial" holiday as Michael.  The
scariest part of all this is that my first inclination is to
say *yes*.

If I went back to being Michael, none of this would be my
problem anymore.  Michelle would go back to her "home" and
Michael would come to stay with his Aunt Jane.  Or maybe it
would be safer to stay with Eric.  Michael is going to look a
lot like Michelle for several weeks, and I suspect that my new
friends, particularly the Wednesday makeup class, will see
through Michael to Michelle instantly.

Well, I have again filled pages arguing with myself, and still
have come to no conclusion.  If this keeps up, I may just stay
Michelle because I don't know what else to do.  Not a very
good reason for a life altering decision, is it?

On another issue, by my count, I should have been eating a
soap bar days ago.  Now, my numbers are usually a bit higher
than Aunt Jane's , since I count all my verbal foul ups and
she counts only the ones she hears.  Still, she should have
hit one hundred over a week ago.

When Aunt Jane does not hold true to form, that usually means
she is up to something.  And *that* always makes me very
nervous. *VERY* nervous.

Michelle Nash

Jane sat at her study desk, and stared at the calendar on her
desk.  October third was circled in wide red marker - the day
when Michelle's trial period closed.  Only two more days
before she found out if she was going to have a niece or a
nephew staying with her for the foreseeable future. 

Jane wasn't sure she knew what she wanted the choice to be,
any more than her ward knew.  On one hand, it was probably
best for the child to see this thing through to the very end,
no matter how painful its consequences might be for everyone
concerned.  And for herself, Jane admitted, she *liked* having
this Michelle around the place.  She *liked* Michelle.

Conversely, Michelle would be showing a great deal of maturity
if she abandoned her spiteful quest against her Mother.  *If*
she abandoned it because she had decided that she no longer
wanted or needed to get even.  

Jane's fear was that Michelle might decide to abandon the game
because of the continued attentions of Dennis.  She had to
hand it to that young man, he certainly was tenacious.  It was
a good thing he lived locally or Jane's monthly phone bills
would be whoppers given all the time the two teens spent
talking with each other on the phone.  Jane's little Michelle
had developed quite a crush on that lad, only she was afraid
of what she felt for Dennis and therefore refused to admit or
acknowledge her feelings.  She might just become Michael again
to end that fear.  And that would be the worst possible
reason. 

Jane had already made preliminary inquiries on a scheme she
had developed to help Michelle and Michael get some needed
emotional distance and balance.  Unfortunately, they needed to
be on their vacation for her plan to work, and again
unfortunately, that came after Michelle's decision date.

"Aunt Jane?"  The quiet voice shook Jane out of her reveries,
and she looked up to see Michelle peaking around the cracked
open study door.  "May I come in?"

Jane beckoned her in, and then was somewhat surprised to see
that Michelle was wearing one of Michael's exercise warm up
suits.  "Aunt Jane, I'd like to call one our timeouts,
please." her ward said in the deeper tones of Michael's
speaking voice.

Jane did not want to grant this request because she was afraid
she knew what he wanted to say.  Still, she motioned him to
one of the easy chairs and came over to join him.  "All right,
Michael.  What is it you wish to discuss?"

Michael opened a book that Jane recognized as the diary she
had given Michelle at the beginning of their trial.  "Aunt
Jane, according to my figures, which have been running only a
few counts ahead of yours until now, you are overdue in
calling Michelle to accounts for unfeminine language and
behaviors."

Momentarily speechless, Jane could only stare at her ward. 
"You. . .you want to be disciplined?  You want me to wash your
mouth out with soap like a naughty bad mouthed little child?"

"Hel. . . I mean, heck no, Aunt Jane.  I hate that, but it was
part of the deal we made, and a reminder I have decided I need
if I am going to learn to overcome Michelle's bad case of
potty mouth."

"Why should you care, Michael?  Two more days and you can take
off the skirts without breaking your word, and then it does
not matter, beyond basic courtesy, what you say."

Michael sat very still at that moment, his grey-green eyes
locked on Jane's.  After a few moments of this, Jane found she
had to consciously refrain from fidgeting under her ward's
intense gaze. "So that's why." he finally said in a very soft
undertone.  "You aren't doing it because you don't want my
mouth filled with soap bubbles at the moment I have to open it
to tell you my decision."

Jane broke eye contact with Michael and looked away.  "Isn't
that the reason, Aunt Jane?" Michael pressed.

Finally, she sighed deeply, and then nodded.  "You might still
have demons, Michael, that only Michelle can help you
exorcize.  I did not want you making a poor decision because
you were reacting angrily to one of my disciplines.  Whatever
decision you make, I want it to be made rationally, not
emotionally."

"I understand now."  Michael looked down at the book and Jane
thought he might be reading some passage in the book.  She
wished she knew what it said and what he was thinking at that
moment.  "Suppose, Aunt Jane, I told you that I have already
made my decision - that I am absolutely certain what I am
going to do.  What would you say to that?"

His aunt gave him a resigned smile. "I would say that it is
completely in character for someone with the iron will I have
seen in both you and Michelle.  Knowing you both, I expect
that there is no way your mind is going to change?"  Michael
only shook his head, his eyes firm.  "Well, why don't we just
end the trial here and now, then.  I don't think there's any
sense delaying for another two days.  If you want to discard
your skirts, I will have Maria go up and move all the
fripperies out this afternoon."

"You mean that, don't you?" he asked wonderingly.

"I gave you my word, dear.  I don't see much point in
continuing another two days just to keep you as Michelle for
that length of time.  I am going to miss having her around,
but I look forward to getting to know my nephew, too."

"Well, that is a shame." Michael muttered.  "Because I am
going to stay as Michelle.  I haven't finished what I set out
to do three months ago, and I am not ready to give up on that
goal just yet.  I am not so sure of what I am going to do as I
was back then, but one thing I do know - only Michelle can do
what must needs be done."

Jane rose and went back over to stand by her desk.  "I see. 
You are sure?"  Michael nodded.  "Very well, Michael.  We will
continue as we have, then.  Are we finished with this timeout,
then?" she asked.

"Yes, Aunt Jane, thank you." and this time the voice that
responded was Michelle.  She rose and turned to leave the
study.

"Oh, Michelle?" Jane called as her ward reached the door. 
Michelle half turned back to her aunt, a single brow lifted in
silent inquiry.  Jane lifted a familiar notebook and glanced
at the pages.  "You have accumulated sufficient demerits since
your last discipline for two sessions.  I will expect you in
my room at 9:30 tonight for the first session.  We will take
care of the second one tomorrow evening at the same time."

She watched, amused as first surprise, then anger and finally
resignation flitted across Michelle's mobile features. "We
still do need to smooth out your rough edges, dear." Jane said
softly, but without a hint of apology.

"Nine thirty.  I will be there, Aunt Jane." she turned away
only to stop one last time.  "And thank you."  She left before
Jane could even frame a response.

Excerpt: Michelle's Diary 
October 3- Day 79

Dear Diary

I am sitting here, my mouth full of suds, waiting for the
final minutes to tick by so that I can go rinse the soap out
of my mouth.  Aunt Jane told me she trusted my sense of honor
to follow the rules and not to cleanse my palette before my
sentence is completely served.  So now I am the instrument of
my own punishment.  And all I need to do in order to get
relief is to break my promise.  Sometimes, honor stinks - or
as in tonight's case, leaves a very bad taste in your mouth.  

sigh.

In the end, I made the decision to stay Michelle because it is
the only choice that leaves my options open.  Frankly, I
cannot decide what I want to do.  Once I reach that decision,
I will know what path to take.  All I know is that changing
back to Michael permanently ends the plan.  I cannot quit and
then go back and say, I want to do it again - let me be
Michelle again.  That is not fair to Jane.  Besides, if I am
going to do this thing, I need all the practice, all the
learning that I can get.  And if I finally decide that I no
longer want to show my Mother the error of ignoring Michael
and then creating Michelle, then having lived another few
months as Michelle, or even a few years as Michelle will not
have hurt anyone.  The only one who loses anything by that
decision is Michael and he. . .that is, *I* don't mind being
Michelle all that much any more.

I mean, I have more friends as Michelle, in the girls at
Caro's, and especially Anna, then Michael could have laid
claim to in his entire life B.J.T. (Before Jane Thompson). 
Real people who like *me* and not the size of my father's
fortune. And it is not as if I cannot go to school as
Michelle, because Jane assures me that I can - We just have to
find a way around the School Nurse and physical education. 
Both of which Jane has promised me are not really obstacles.

I am relieved to have that decision done and over with.  Now
if I could just figure out what I am going to do about Dennis
and that infernal school dance.

I guess this is where I play Scarlet O'Hara and say I will
worry about it tomorrow.  Or more correctly, after I get back
from Tahoe.  I really need the break!

Michelle Nash

End Part 7


-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>