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Subject: RP TG: A Change of Direction (11/22) (Magic, TG)
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A Change of Direction
Part 11
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. 

A Change of Direction
Chapter 17


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

6 months, 18 days A. T.

Well, I guess I am a real witch now.  I have used magic for
real on someone other than Mum.  One of my teammates twisted
wrong on her leg in practice today, and one of the bones in
her calf just splintered.  What is they call it when the bone
goes through the skin?  I think it is called a compound
fracture.

Anyway, Tamika was just screaming and writhing.  The coach
could not keep her still, and the blood was just everywhere. 
We found out later she had cut a blood vessel.

I linked with her.  Yes, Jack, I did remember to shield.  I
was able to ease her pain enough that she quit screaming, and
I was able to nearly stop the bleeding.  Besides the healing
arts, once I had her stilled, I used direct pressure on the
bleeding, too.  That is what the paramedics think saved her. 
Maybe it did, too, but I could not have done that if she'd
still been flopping on the floor like landed fish.

She's going to be all right.  Only problem is that I have not
yet been able to deal with the pain myself.  Broken legs hurt
like a bitch, at least that one did.  I don't know how I made
it to the car after practice.  

Thank Goodness Bonnie was there and offered to drive.  Just
the thought of pressing on the accelerator makes my leg hurt.

I like Tamika.  I am glad I could help her.

Odd how things work out.  If I had not been Transformed,
Tamika might well have died.  And speaking of Transforming, I
have not heard much on that subject from Mom, lately.  I guess
I proved today that I have learned my healing lessons pretty
well.  I just wish I had a better idea what the rest of the
"lessons" are before I can learn the Transformation Spell.

I am still convinced it has something to do with sex, and more
to the point, sex with a guy.

Why do I think that closing my eyes and thinking of England
won't get the job done, either.  Maybe because I know my
Mother a bit better than Jack ever did.

End Journal Entry.

********************
"She'll be fine, Bronwyn.  It is just post healing stress.  A
good night's sleep and the bulk of the trauma she inflicted on
herself will be dealt with."

Bronwyn, still in Bonnie's skin, took a shaky sip of her tea. 
"Goddess, I was so scared.  I felt her link, and immediately
knew she was going after a potentially fatal injury.  I tried
to inhibit her, but she was too strong.  Thank the light that
she shielded herself."

"You weren't able to break her linkage?" That bit of news
surprised Laurie.

Bronwyn shook her head emphatically.   "No way.  Might have
been able to stop her from making the initial link, but once
she had it, there was nothing I could do.  She is definitely
her Mother's daughter so far as her healing talents go." She
took another sip of tea, her hands steadier now.  "I am *very*
glad we had you start her training when we did."

"So am I, dear friend, so am I." said Laurie as she considered
the danger of that day's linkage.  "On another subject. Have
you had a chance to peak at her diary lately?"

"No, not for a couple of weeks." Bronwyn's eyes unfocused,
momentarily.  "Nothing much in the past few days, other than
she is happy she could help her friend.  Maybe that will be
something we can build on - that Jacqui could help, but Jack
would not have been able to." Bronwyn decided to keep Jacqui's
speculations on the Transformation Spell to herself.  Let
Laurie be proud of her pupil without feeling sad about the
probable loss of her daughter.

Hope niggled at Laurie, then she tamped it back down.  It was
Jacqui's decision, now, and only her decision.  She had
promised that and she would keep her promise.

Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

7 months, 8 days A. T.

Okay, so how do I write *this* one down?  The facts, ma'am,
just give us the facts.

Marcus and I went out tonight to a little party given by one
of my teammates.  End of the season sort of thing - girls
bring a snack to share and the date of their choice.  Well, I
got this wild idea to pick up Marcus instead of the other way
around.  Mom was not best pleased (not lady-like enough, I
guess), but she went along with it in the end.

I put on that great new party dress she bought me last month.
The knee length skirt looks great on me, especially with the
special silky stockings I talked Mom into buying.  Marcus
really thought so, anyway.

I picked him up in Mom's car - her car has bench seats in the
front so I could let him drive and then cuddle up to him like
I can't in either of our cars.

The party was great.  We danced and talked with other kids,
and then we danced some more.  

You know, this is the first date I have been on where Bonnie
was not at least in the vicinity.  She is not on the team so
she did not get invited.

Anyway, after the party, we went off and *parked*.  We really
steamed the windows there for a while.  It would have gone a
lot further than it did, except I still wasn't brave enough to
venture forth without Mom's girdle on me.  Poor Marcus was
really in a bad way, though.  I could tell from how . . .
tight his slacks were around his pants fly.  I remembered from
personal experience just how hard that is on a guy, and was
going to tell him to take me home. You know, so he could go
home and deal with that painful swelling like Jack used to
after a date.  Merry Hand and her sisters, again.

But then I thought, hey, I probably know as much about doing
that as he does, and he has been such a nice guy, and wouldn't
it have been great if one of my girls had helped me reduce my
swelling back when I was Jack?  After all, I caused it, didn't
I?  And Mom says I *am* a healer.

Before he could start the car, I was back on him, kissing him
the way I know drives him crazy.  He reacted as I expected.
His arms came around my back (I think that is so he won't be
tempted to cop a feel - sometimes he's just *too* nice.  I
wonder what that feels like.  Is it different when a guy does
it than when Bonnie does it?) Anyway, he started kissing me
back.

Seventeen years of experience with one of my own had his
zipper down before he knew what was happening.  I wasn't quite
so deft getting his cock out of there, but he wasn't exactly
fighting me, so it got done.

He's pretty big.  My hands are a lot smaller than Jack's, but
I think he is a little longer and maybe a bit thicker than
Jack used to be.  He was also *very* excited because he came
very quickly.  I felt very smug about the whole thing.  He was
a little dazed, but very, very happy, particularly when I
hinted that because of my "time of the month", he would not
have reciprocate.  I don't think Marcus has any more real
experience with pleasuring girls than I, excuse me, than Jack
did.  Looks like it is Merry Hand for me tonight, after all.

One thing though.  What *does* a girl do with that slimy stuff
on her hand afterwards?  Luckily, Mom had some tissues in the
glove compartment of her car.  Guess I might need some in my
purse from now on.  To think I used to do that to myself every
chance I got - when I was Jack, that is.  Yuck.


End of Journal Entry


*************
Bonnie silently crept into Laurie's room once Jacqui had
fallen asleep of sensual exhaustion.  "Laurel, wake up!  You
will never guess."

"Hmmm? Wha.."  Laurie suddenly realized who it was.  "Bronwyn! 
What is it" Is something wrong?  Why aren't you in bed with
Jacqui?"

"Nothing's wrong. Just listen.  In her journal?  She
masturbated her boyfriend to an orgasm the other night. Liked
doing it, too, she did."  Bonnie was beaming with pride in her
young charge.  "I bet she's planning to gloat about doing it
on her own if I tried to convince her it was an easy next
step."

"Now what do we do?"  Laurie whispered.  "She is still not
ready to make love, yet.  I am pretty sure she does not yet
accept what I told her about the effectiveness of birth
control for Transformed women.  I think she is still operating
under the misconception that taking those little pills every
day is going to make a difference if she ever makes love with
a man."

"No problem.  I am still inhibiting Marcus.  If they try to go
all the way, he won't be able to maintain an erection.  I will
figure out how to keep that from doing any long term damage to
either of them when it happens, but for now, that is our
failsafe."
"Precocious little minx, isn't she?  Only six months old and
already a bit of a vamp."  Laurie giggled to her friend.
"But only in the nicest sense of the word, you round-heeled
wench.  How could she be anything else when she is *your*
daughter.  Anyway, our plan is working.  She is no longer
thought of as a tease at school and she is becoming more
femininely confident every day.  I got to get back.  Just
wanted you to know."



Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

8 months, 16 days A. T.

It is official.  I am going to the Prom next month as the best
girl.  At least, I am going as Marcus' best girl.  He asked me
tonight and I said yes.  Bonnie would insist, anyhow, and
besides I might as well admit it.  I want to go and moreover,
I want to go with Marcus.

He's been pretty great as boyfriends go.  I know Jack would
not have been so easily satisfied by the occasional hand job
after going steady with a girl for nearly 3 months.  He likes
me and he listens to me.  From what I can gather from the
other girls I have been palling around with, that is pretty
unusual.  Was I, excuse me, was Jack that clueless about what
was going on in a girl's head when he was dating them? 
Probably.  Nothing like walking a mile in someone else's high
heels.  Damn, but it has already been such a very long mile. 
Oh well, just think how much in demand the new, more girl-
smart Jack Donovan will be with all the ladies once I get
myself back into my own skin, again. 

You know?  I think I will make my age just right to go after
Bonnie when I Transform back.  I love her.  A lot.  I don't
want to lose her when I go back to being a guy, and I have the
advantage of knowing exactly what makes her happy, too.  She
won't ever know what hit her.

Anyway, I was really pleased when he asked me.  So was Mom
when I told her, only now, I wish I had kept it to myself. 
She is gearing up for another mammoth shopping expedition only
this time, she says we are looking for *the* dress so it may
take more than one day of shopping.  HELP!!!  Why do women
*like* shopping?  And if they have to shop, why does it have
to take *all day long*???  It's only another dress.

Well, maybe not.  Marcus deserves a little treat for being
such a pal through all this.  I want to knock his eyes out and
have him tripping over his tongue that night.  One things for
sure, we are going to the places we went after Christmas and
not those places Mom took me to right after the
Transformation.  We are talking classy, elegant, understated
sexiness, not brass and flash.  

Good grief, what am I saying??

Oh, and another thing, Mom has started to teach me how to
dance.  Real dancing - waltzing, cheek to cheek, guy holding
girl real close - that kind of stuff.  It's kind of fun.  She
says I should invite Marcus over so he can partner me in my
lessons.  Hell, I am going to invite him over so he can learn
to dance, too.  Mom has said I need to learn to dance in real
high heels for the prom, so Marcus needs to learn to dance or
he will learn to fear for his feet.

It feels good not to be so angry anymore.  I have come to
accept that what Mom did, she did out of love.  It is not her
fault that I did not want the gift she wanted to give.  Having
her so pleased tonight, wanting to help so badly with the Prom
stuff . . . it was special - sort of like the old days when it
was just Mom and Jack, only different.  Maybe even better. 
She is trying so hard.

Tomorrow's a big day, too.  I defend my chess championship. 
Since I know I am unlikely to win, I am somewhat more relaxed
than I might otherwise be tonight.  Last year, Jack did not
sleep for three nights before the tournament.  The one hour
time limit on the preliminaries should favor me, but the two
hour limit for the rest of the matches means there are likely
to be middle games.  I would like to place, though.

End of Journal Entry


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

8 months, 18 days A. T.

Tournament is over.  I took fifth place overall.  Highest
finishing girl, too, so that is something.

As I predicted, I managed to win my prelims fairly handily. 
In both cases, I sacrificed my queen before blasting their
defenses with a rook/knight attack. Less than twenty moves in
both games.  I won my first match in the bracket by teasing my
opponent into playing too fast.  Again, it was over pretty
quickly and without any significant position play.

I lost in the quarter finals to the kid who won my school's
championship.  He knows me well enough that he forced a long,
almost forty move game, and beat me in the middle game.  Word
got out pretty fast after that not to let me get up a head of
steam, and I lost 2 of 3 matches in the consolation bracket.
Beat another girl in the match that I won to take fifth place. 

Still, I am pretty pleased with myself.  

End Journal entry.


*******************

Laurie found Jacqui in her little library, staring at her
chessboard. The fifth place medal rested in the center of the
board among the massed black and white forces.  She looked up
and smiled at her Mother.  "Hi, Mum."

Laurie pulled up another chair and settled beside the girl. 
Putting an arm around her shoulder, she asked.  "Are you very
disappointed that you did not repeat as champion?"

Jacqui leaned over and snatched up the medal by the neck
ribbon and examined it closely.  Finally, she sighed.  "No,
not really.  Truthfully,  I did not expect to win - especially
once I saw that I could no longer manage the middle game." her
brows furrowed.  "Mom, I know I have asked this before, but
why can't I think anymore?  Like I used to?  Why is it so hard
to concentrate?"

Laurie started to repeat her evolutionary explanation, but
remembered a recent incident where Jacqui had helped her with
a computer printer problem.  Maybe she would understand that
more easily.  "Remember the other day when I called you in to
help me in my office?  I was printing out something at the
time, and I was angry because something was wrong with my
computer.  The screen was not keeping up with my typing."

A soft indulgent smile flickered across Jacqui's face.  "You
were printing in background and trying to type at the same
time."

Whatever that means, Laurie thought, then continued.  "Right,
and you explained that by trying to print that way, I was
asking the computer to do two processes at once, but that
since there was only one CPU, or computer brain, both happened
slower.  I had a choice, you said.  I could do both at once
and accept the slowdown, or I could do only one at a time.  I
could print faster or type faster, but could not do them both
simultaneously."

"The program is effectively on hold until the CPU is done with
the print job." Jacqui put in.

"Exactly.  Well, the program being on hold is the way you
thought as a male, dear.  Anything that was extraneous to what
you were focused on simply ceased to exist for you.  Women
don't get that choice, luv.  Your brain is going to process
those little subliminal clues in addition to the overt
information you are working with. That is the way you are
wired, now, and unlike my computer, you cannot turn that on
and off to suit you.  Since you still have only one brain,
though, so your intuitive thinking uses part of your
brainpower and effectively "slows" down your beloved rational
logic.  I would say that it also affects the amount of memory
and other resources you can apply to that kind of serial
thinking."

The girl seemed to consider this, then grinned.  "Makes sense
to me.  No upgrades available for this CPU, either." She
thought for a moment more.  "You know. . . .The intuition
thing is probably part of the reason I am so much better in
end game, now.  Some instinct seems to point at my opponent's
weakness."

"A very good thing for a woman to be able to do, considering
that males are usually much stronger.  Evolution again."

"It is all so strange, Mum.  So much of what I used to think
of as being "me" is changed, and it is not just physical."

Laurie smiled gently.  "Darling, being a woman is much, much
more than just the physical." She leaned over and kissed the
girl on her cheek.  "I would say you have learned quite a bit
that will help you, dear, and learned it very well, indeed."

Jacqui became very quiet at that.  She stared again at her
chessmen, and then at the medal she still held in her hand. 
Then she smiled, and leaned her head on her Mother's shoulder. 
For now, that was good enough for both women.



Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

8 months, 24 days A. T.

We found the dress, but it has to be fitted.  Do you know what
that means?  It means that some female with pins in her mouth
jabs them into various tender portions of my anatomy.  I told
her that she was trying to fit it to me, not nail it to me. 
The bitch only jabbed me harder the next time.  I told Mom
that if there is one speck of blood on that dress, we are not
paying for it and I get something off the rack.

Then she told me that I had two, maybe three more fittings
before the dance.

ARRRGGGGHHH!

End of Journal Entry


*******************
"I couldn't believe it, Bronwyn. *She* picked out the dress
and it is *perfect* on her.  I would have had her in something
slinkier, perhaps younger looking, but Goddess, she looks
positively dangerous in this."

"Well, that is positive.  Her journal still discusses going
back to being Jack," and Bronwyn was *not* going to discuss
what was currently motivating the girl with her Mother.  Maybe
Bonnie was becoming *too* important to Jacqui.  "but as long
as she is enjoying her little feminine adventures, we can
still hold out hope for her eventual acceptance of womanhood."

"It is so sad that she did not become as we did after our own
Transformation.  All of us are losing out on so much because
of the way she feels."

Bronwyn nodded.  "I think it may have been because she was
Transformed without ever having made love as a man.  Neither
of us were virgins at the time of our entry into womanhood,
but Jack was.  I think Jacqui resents that most of all, and it
may be why the enchantment did not ease the way for him as we
thought it should have.  Our research Sisters are exploring
that possibility so that we can try and avoid further
occurrences this in the future."

Laurie just shook her head.  "It is hard to believe that some
smart girl never tripped up my gorgeous, strong son and had
her wicked way with him before that time.  What is wrong with
these girls of today, Bronwyn?" she asked facetiously.

"AIDS for one thing," she said quietly.  "Every smart girl
knows that a broken condom can hold more than babies for her,
now.  Besides, your son had a very full plate.  Between sports
and school work, he did not have a lot of time to spend on a
girl, getting her to where she was confident enough of him
that he was worth the risk.  I think those girls missed out,
but that is water over the dam, now."

"Are you going to the Prom, dear?"  Laurie's eyes were
twinkling at her friend.

"Of course.  He's a lovely boy and has done his tasks very
nicely." She grinned hungrily. "He might even get very lucky
afterwards as a reward.  The exuberance and stamina of youth
make for an  . . .interesting possibility or two.  Should be a
lot of fun. Too bad he won't remember it once I no longer need
to be Bonnie."  She sighed in mock dismay.  "Still, the
training I will give him will stand him in good stead.  Some
girl will be very lucky once she catches him after I am done
with him."  Both women started laughing at that and they moved
on to other, more mundane topics.


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

9 months, 2 days A. T.

What is worse than a dress-fitting at the hands of the very
sadistic Attila the Bun-sticker?  A dress-fitting with that
evil bitch when you are also dealing a rough first day of your
period.  The only thing that kept me going was the image of
losing my lunch all over her blue tinted hair and the only
thing that kept me swallowing hard not to do just that was the
off chance I might miss and ruin my dress.
End of Journal Entry

Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

9 months, 5 days A. T.

I can't help wondering what I did to offend Mom's friend
Bronwyn.  I am *not* imagining that she is avoiding me.  She
and Mom were deep in some little tete a tete this evening when
I got home from visiting Tamika.   Ten minutes later, she
remembers an important engagement and is off.

That little niggle sense Mum says I am supposed to pay
attention to is going crazy.

And another thing, when I said good bye to her, it was on the
tip of my tongue to call her something other than Ms.
Llewellyn, only whatever that was slipped into that nebulous
part of my head that works in "background".

Whatever it is, she is Mum's friend, and I need to fix
whatever is wrong if it is something I have done.  Mum has a
hard enough time dealing with her gender confused child.  She
does not need to lose a friend, too.

After the Prom, I think.  Now all I have to do is figure out
how to get five minutes alone with the woman without her
turning tail and running for cover.

It was *much* easier to deal with stuff like this as a guy. 
"Hey you" doesn't seem to work when you are only five feet six
inches tall and a 120 lbs.

End Journal Entry

****************
Bronwyn, in her guise as Bonnie, was sitting in Jacqui's
library watching the girl work her own brand of magic with the
top-of-the-line PC on her desk.  It fascinated Bronwyn to see
how easily her young friend found useful information with her
computer, or how quickly she did very complicated calculations
and reports on it.  While she wasn't actually computer-phobic,
Bronwyn's use of a computer was mostly limited to word
processing in her "real-life" career as a novelist.

Now that she thought about it, very few of the Sisterhood's
members were technically oriented.  Almost all of them were of
a more . . . humanistic bent in their mental workings.  What
was that, left or right brained?  Bronwyn couldn't remember,
but which ever side of the brain that dominated her thinking,
it was pretty clear that the opposite side was foremost with
the novice witch in front of the computer.  She was staring at
the screen like it was a crystal ball.  All Bronwyn could see
was line after line of totally incomprehensible and unrelated
letters and numbers scrolling down the screen.  Finally,
Jacqui sat back in her chair, a smile on her face.  "That's
got it." she said with evident satisfaction.

Bronwyn did not see anything on the screen that was at all
different from when Jacqui had declared it was a problem, and
said as much. "Oh ye of little faith."  Jacqui intoned, and
then made a blazing-fast series of key strokes before hitting
the enter key with a maestro's flourish.  The screen went dark
for a second or two before a picture of Bonnie and Jacqui
smiled up out of the screen.

"I don't know how you did that, since I know we never posed
together for that picture."  She held up her hand to forestall
the expected explanation that she would not understand anyway. 
"I *don't* want to know." she grinned down at her friend.  Was
it possible that Jacqui's technical mind set was another piece
of the puzzle of why she fought her Transformation so hard? 
Was there something in the way the dominant side of her brain
worked that made the reality of what happened to her so . . .
difficult for her to accept?  She'd have to run that by the
research team, too.  Whatever else came of this, the
Sisterhood was *not* going to go through so painful a
Transformation transition again.

"So, you all ready for the Prom?" she asked nonchalantly.

Jacqui's attention was back on the screen, working on some
other confusing list of equations and expressions.  "Guess so.
The dress is done, thank goodness.  Most of the pin holes in
me are even healed.  I have had the shoes for a couple of
weeks now, and a good thing, too.  I would have been lame in
an hour if I hadn't practiced walking in those stilts for the
past few days.  How about you?"

"Oh, yeah.  My mom finished making my dress the other day." 
Another member of the Sisterhood had been drafted to act as
Bonnie's Mom on those days when one had been needed.  Now, she
made a useful opening for a gambit that Bronwyn hoped would
work out for Jacqui and for Laurie.  "We are going to make a
day of it, getting me ready for the big night.  She is even
borrowing a video camera so she can record the whole day.  She
is more excited than I am."  Bronwyn let the hook dangle in
front of her prize fish and just wiggled the bait a bit.

Frowning, Jacqui turned to face her best friend.  "Your Mom? 
She's going to help you get ready?  And it's going to take all
day?"

Here little fishy, Bronwyn thought, just take a itty-bitty
taste.  I promise you will just love it.  "You bet.  She
practically begged me to let her do it.  It is going to be
great.  She is going to spend the day pampering me and I am
going to look fabulous when she is done.  And Jeremy is going
to go nuts when he sees me."  She preened for her audience
because she knew she had Jacqui's complete attention.  "Yeah,
it is going to be really great."

Jacqui sat there, her hands unmoving on the keyboard.  "You
say that Moms really like doing that kind of stuff?"

Gotcha! Bronwyn thought with a hidden smile.  Time to reel
this prize in.  "Yes.  It is a special time for Moms, seeing
their daughters all turned out and helping them get ready. 
Except for her daughter's wedding day, I think Prom Night is
the most special time a Mom ever shares with her daughter."

"Really." Jacqui said distractedly.  Then, she shook herself
and returned her attention to the computer program on her
screen.  "Well, let's get this done so we can go get some
dinner."  And she started typing out more of those strange,
meaningless symbols.


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

9 months, 9 days A. T.

If, as Bonnie assured me, that Prom Night is a special time
for Moms - why hasn't mine asked to help beyond the buying of
the dress and stuff?

Because she knows how much you hate all this femme-stuff,
dummy.  Thanks, Jack, I needed that kind reminder.

Only, I don't think I do, anymore.

Not as much anyway.  Maybe. 

Hell.

End of Journal Entry

End Part 11; Continued in Part 12


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