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From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger)
Subject: Tales of the Season: Darla's Story (TG) 2 of 6
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Tales of the Season - Darla's Story
by Tigger
copyright 1998, all rights reserved.

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.

Based on the characters and situations presented in "Seasons
of Change" by Joel Lawrence, Copyright 1989.  This story is
archived in its entirety at the Nifty Archive and at
Fictionmania.

This story takes place after the events of Second Season or A
Losing Season. . . .sort of.  Michael has decided to return to
St. Andrews in order to get into an Ivy League pre-med
program.  Jane has returned to her program of helping troubled
young men.

Tales of the Season - Darla's Story

Part 2:

Maria came into Jane's office with a pot of tea and some
finger foods.  "I put Darla to bed for a short nap." she said
quietly.  "She is very upset by all this.  I gave her a gentle
tranquilizer."

"Thank you, Maria.  With everything else, I had not even
considered Darla." Jane said in a dull voice as she stirred
her tea.

"Bad day, Jane.  One of the worst that I can remember.  We've
never lost a boy like that before."

"Worse than you might think, dear.  We may have lost two boys
from this fiasco.  Darryl now knows that Stephanie was
actually Stephan, and it is much too early in his progression
for him to have learned that.  At least, if we are to continue
following our regular program."

Maria helped herself to a sandwich.  "True, but we've had
single students before, Jane.  We've gotten them through." she
replied confidently.

"With the exception of Michael, we've never before had one of
our boys understand *our* vulnerability early enough to fight
back effectively.  Darryl is an exceptionally bright young
man, and as a former city gang member, he is also very street
smart.  He is going to put this all together and start
thinking instead of just reacting.  Off hand, I can see two
outcomes.  Because of the jail sentence hanging over his head,
he will complacently follow our orders, and do everything we
ask.  Except now that he knows that he is perfectly safe from
being exposed publicly as a crossdressed sissy, and we won't
be accomplish anything."

"And the other possible outcome?"

"He just refuses to go along with anything we tell him to do
and we send a perfectly good, redeemable kid to jail for six
months to three years.  Damn!  What a mess."

Maria sighed, and stared into her teacup, as if looking
wisdom.  "Which one do you think is more likely?"

Jane took a thoughtful sip from her teacup.  "I don't really
know." she admitted softly.  "I can't seem to get a feel for
him.  He is simply not reacting - not to me, not to
*any*thing.  He just keeps on doing exactly what he's told, no
matter how humiliating, no matter how seemingly pointless.  I
don't think he has complained or taken issue with a single
order since he stepped off the train."

"Could it be that he doesn't want to give you any excuse to
send him to jail, Jane?"

"No." Jane sighed, shaking her head. "We've had other boys who
had a jail sentence hanging over their heads as you well know. 
Even the most even tempered of them eventually reacted to the
very arbitrary nature of my orders and decrees.  Darla is days
overdue for a hissy fit over our little feminizing tyrannies
and she has not shown the slightest inclination towards
throwing one yet.  I don't know what is motivating that child
to work as hard as he obviously is on his feminine behaviors,
and until I do, we have to watch him very carefully, Maria."

"You're frightened." Maria said finally.

"After Michael?  I am terrified."  Jane rasped, just above a
whisper.

"I've never known you to be so uncertain of yourself or your
abilities, my dear.  You made a mistake with Michael, but even
that came out well in the end.  Darla is *not* Michael."

"I just wish I could figure out why he is so . . . so damned
agreeable!" Jane caught Maria's look and had to laugh at
herself.  "Hell of a thing to be upset about, isn't it.  My
little girl is working too hard to do what I tell her to do." 
She took another sip of tea and shook her head at her own
foolishness.  "Well, I am going to have to call Judge Ruth, I
guess.  The boy is a ward of the state since the only family
he has is his criminal older brother.  She may want to pull
him out of here and put him into another program.  Or into
jail."

"Like *hell* we will let him go to jail." the normally soft-
spoken Maria snarled.  "We have to try, Jane.  I like this
one.  He is sweet, really, underneath that shell of his.  Do
you know that he helped me with the dishes the other day when
I cut my hand?  Didn't even have to ask him.  He just walked
into the kitchen, told me I shouldn't be putting my hand in
the dishwater, handed me the dishtowel and dug in."

"Judge Ruth thought he was worth the effort and she hasn't
been wrong yet, has she?  Are Darla's new things put away,
Maria?"

"Yes.  I did it after she fell asleep."

Jane nodded and then looked at her watch.  Lord, she mused, it
wasn't even noon yet.  "Let her sleep until about three and
then get her up and dressed in time for tea.  We will
postpone, at least for today, her fashion show.  I don't think
I can find the will to be disdainfully picky about her dress
and such.  In the meantime, I am going to try and see if I can
come up with some way to salvage this mess."  Jane looked out
the window in the direction of her driveway, and a tear
trickled down her cheek.

Maria instantly understood.  "Stephan will be fine, Jane.  He
is a very intelligent young man, and under your tutelage, he
has matured a great deal.  He understood what you'd actually
done for him.  He told me so. He'll be able to see his father
and his lifestyle for what they are."

"He deserved so much better than that, Maria.  I hope you are
right.  I wouldn't put it past that animal to send him to some
military style boot camp/prison camp to beat some of *his*
kind of manhood back into the boy."

"If he does, then you can help his mother bring Evans up on
abuse charges against *him*."

"Everything we do would still come out in the courts, Maria." 
Jane cautioned. "We'd be finished afterwards.  Something of a
pyrrhic victory, don't you think?"

"Since when do we worry about anything other than the kids,
Jane?"  Maria asked with a good deal of asperity.   

A watery chuckle answered her friend's challenge.  "Since
never, dear.  Thank you."  Jane took Maria's hand in her own,
and squeezed it gratefully.  "Why don't you go take a nap,
too?  I need to do some hard thinking."

Understanding her friend's need for privacy to fight these
demons, Maria picked up the tray and left the room.  But she
wouldn't nap, she told herself.  Jane was not as tough as she
made out, and she must might need a shoulder before this day
was out.

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

Darla awoke slowly, and happily burrowed back down into the
soft, clean sweet-smelling bedding, but he was about slept
out.  Consciousness wormed its unwelcome way into the young
person's head, and with that, came the memories.

Why hadn't he had not realized before the confrontation with
Stephanie's father that the "senior girl" was also a guy?  It
all made so much more sense now, having discovered that one
key fact.  Why the "girl" was also so much under Jane's thumb,
and why the "girl" was not more snotty about Darryl's own
surrender of his masculinity.  Originally, Darla had thought
that Jane took in guys *and* girls, and shoe-horned both
genders into the very exaggerated feminine lifestyle he'd
experienced since his arrival.  Certainly, the "Raggedy Ann"
little girl-clothes punishment of Stephanie had seemed real
enough, and humiliating enough to have been actual discipline. 
Steph had truly seemed to hate having to go through it.

So, Darla mused, this whole setup was something that Jane did
regularly.  It was just too well planned, too smooth an
operation to be something that she only did now and then. 
Which raised another question.  How many folks knew the truth
about "Jane's girls."  The two females at that beauty shop and
the woman who owned the lingerie and dress shop obviously were
in on the secret.  Did anyone else in town know?

Darla tried to remember the reactions of the people who had
seen Jane, Stephanie and herself moving through the mall.  Try
as he might, Darla could not remember anyone reacting to the
trio in anything other than a natural, if standoffish manner. 
Even the high school age guys.  No, Darla corrected herself,
make that *especially* the high school age guys.  Like the guy
who nearly knocked her block off while they were walking
towards the Marisha Chalet.  He'd certainly been tongue-tied
and fumble-fingered as he'd stumbled all over himself trying
to help her to her feet.  Just like he thought she was a real
girl.  

That had to be it, Darla thought with complete certainty.  If
it was generally known around town that Jane's girls were
actually "sissified" boys undergoing "punishment". . . . 
Well, teenage males being teenage males, it would have gotten
nasty there in the mall.  Therefore, the knowledge *had* to be
pretty much a secret except for a select few, probably all
women, who helped Jane with her games.

It now became clear why Judge what's-her-name, the lady with
the name that ended in "ciez" but sounded like "check", sent
him here.  Jane obviously had a reputation for working with
young males who were, in some way or another, social problems.

So, that meant when Steph's father showed up here and started
making threats about revealing Jane's activities to the press,
Jane had reason to be concerned.  She needed her games to
remain a secret from the world at large.  For example, just
like at the mall earlier, *if* the teenage males *knew* about
the things Jane did and that any girl she had with her was
likely to be a guy in drag. . . . Well, as he thought before,
that would be pretty ugly.  

The "girl" would be immediately unmasked and would be hounded
mercilessly whenever she came to town.  Darla wasn't entirely
sure what Jane sought to accomplish with her little games, but
it was pretty clear that the threat of exposure was a big part
of her hold over her students.  Particularly after her
experiences that morning at the mall, the Chalet and the dress
shop.

But that threat was really a bite without teeth.  Real
exposure would remove that threat for good.  

How would he react if he'd really been exposed today? 
Probably would have been really pissed, and anger generally
displaces fear.  Jane stood to lose a great deal of her power
and stood to gain an intractable, very angry male who felt he
had absolutely nothing left to lose.  Jane would, in all
likelihood, be unable to continue her program.

What would that mean to him?  What would happen if Steph's
father *did* attack Jane by turning the press loose on her? 
Her program would go down in flames is what, Darla told
herself.  No program, and I am headed back to Illinois and the
Department of Corrections.

Or worse.

Quietly, the femininely turned out young man slipped out of
the warm, comfortable bed and onto the vanity stool.  With
increasingly practiced hands, he took up the brush and comb
and tried to restore some semblance of order to his new
coiffure.  It wasn't perfect when he finished, but it wasn't
too bad.  He cleaned off the remnants of Carolyn's make up
lesson and tried to reproduce the effect himself.  Again, his
efforts were not up to Caro's standards, of even Maria's for
that matter, but they were improving steadily.  Soon, they'd
be good enough for Darla to do what had to be done.

Satisfied, Darla rose and went over to the armoire and removed
a simple skirt and sweater set.  At least he was beyond the
super frilly, electric pink, Little Lady Fauntleroy "fashions"
of his first few days here.

A last check in the mirror and she was ready to go downstairs. 
Darla hoped that he would be here long enough to learn what he
needed to know, but sooner or later, he was going to have to
leave this place.  

He'd really hate leaving here.  For all of Jane's efforts to
be nasty, she gave him a warm bed, a full belly and clean,
nice smelling clothes.  So what if they were girl clothes. 
And Maria, when she wasn't doing Jane's dirty work, was a
really nice lady.  And deep down, she figured that Jane was
pretty nice, too.  Actually, Darla was certain of that because
she had a great deal of experience with people who acted nice
but weren't.

Yes, this was a good place, a *safe* place, all things
considered, but he wouldn't be able to stay.  When he did have
to leave, he wanted to be able to disappear.  What better way
to do that than by being Darla when everyone was looking for a
Darryl?

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

Afternoon tea was a strained experience.  Maria joined teacher
and student for the light meal, but even the normally buoyant
housekeeper was quiet and restrained.  Jane almost canceled
the meal, but then she recalled that Darla had not eaten since
the very light breakfast Maria traditionally served on a salon
day.

Finally, Maria cleared the dishes, leaving Jane and Darla
sitting silently in the music room.

Jane watched her student, and realized the girl was watching
her closely.  Several times, Jane thought Darla was going to
say something, only to reconsider.  Something was on her mind. 
Jane thought she knew what it was.

"Out with it, Darla." Jane ordered gently, trying to smile. 
"You've had time to think about what you saw today, and you
have something you obviously want to talk about." 

Darla did not respond immediately, only worried her teeth on
her lower lip as she regarded the older woman warily.

"Well!" Jane said with a rush, slapping her hands on her lap. 
"Why don't I start by stating what you have probably already
surmised.  Stephanie was just like you.  His name was Stephan
and he was also here to learn some manners and some self
control."

"But he left, without your permission."

Jane grimaced.  "I don't know how much of this I should really
discuss with you, Darla."  This was precisely what Jane had
been afraid of, and even after thinking for the entire
afternoon, she had not come up with any other answer than the
truth.  And she still could not predict this student well
enough to know how he'd react.  "Not all of my students are
sent to me by the courts, Darla.  Stephanie was sent to me by
her Mother who is an old friend of mine.  He was running wild
after his parents' divorce and was heading for a bad end."

"And his father knew nothing about what you two had planned
for his son, at least, until he surprised the Mother by
showing up wanting to exercise his paternal responsibilities
and privileges." 

Jane did a double take at the boy's language.  She'd never
heard him use anything but relatively simple words and
phrases.  "Yes. . . well. . ." she sighed.  "He had the law on
his side and he, well, was not best pleased at having his
darling boy learning the types of lessons I teach."

"And he certainly doesn't want the world knowing that his son
was in skirts?"

"I think so." Jane smiled wanly.  "At least it gives me some
hope that he won't expose my little enterprise.  A number of
very good people, including all of my old students, stand to
lose a great deal if I suddenly become a tabloid celebrity."

"So, you don't think he will really turn you over to the
reporters?"  Darla asked, barely able to breathe.

"Basically.  Oh, he can make life difficult for me in other
ways, but he won't do anything that might result in his
cronies finding out how his son lived while he was with me."

"And I can stay here, with you?"

She heard the almost prayerful hope in Darla's question.  Was
that it, she wondered?  Had she really been wrong and the girl
was that afraid of being sent to jail?  Could she use that
fear to her advantage with her student?  Fear was a powerful
tool, if tempered by hope.  "Are you that afraid of going to
prison, Darla?" Jane asked softly.

The girl's finely etched brows rose in surprise before she
recovered herself. "Jail? . . . Oh, yes, Jail." Darla cleared
her throat.  "Of course I am afraid of that, Aunt Jane."

Are you really, Jane thought.  Then why did you have to think
about your answer.  I *wish* I could read your mind, child.
Jane steeled her features into her stern, Victorian Governess
mask.  "You *may* stay, Darla, so long as you do as I ask. 
You stay until I decide you are rehabilitated and certify that
to Judge Ruth, or until I decide I cannot do anything with you
and send you back to her.  In that case, you will immediately
begin serving your term in prison."

Darla let herself breathe again.  Jane did not think Steph's
father would let the cat out of the bag, and she was going to
let him stay with her.  She was still safe.  At least for a
little while, and so were Jane and Maria.  "Thank you, Aunt
Jane." the feminine boy replied with deep feeling.  "I will be
the best student you've ever had."

Nonplused by the evident emotion in her student's voice, Jane
did not respond immediately.  Finally, she was able to engage
her brain.  "Yes, well, see that you do, dear."  I am not in
any mental or emotional condition to play games with a male
ego tonight, Jane told herself.  "Maria will bring you a
dinner tray in your room tonight, dear.  We will resume your
training tomorrow after we have all had a good sleep."

Recognizing a dismissal, Darla rose and gave a quick curtsey,
and quietly left the room.

She has nearly mastered that uniquely feminine gesture, Jane
realized, and so early.  None of her boys had ever managed a
graceful curtsey until they had started to give in to her,
usually after several months under her thumb.  Jane used it as
one of the key indicators that a boy had begun to turn himself
around because perfecting that skill required them to practice
on their own in front of their mirrors.

That brought up another question.  When had Maria had time to
do the girl's hair and make up after her nap?  She'd been
cooking when the girl got up and the work was very well done -
too well for it to have been a touch up of Caro's work from
the morning's outing.  Which was all Darla should have been
able to do that well at this point in her training.

Wasn't it?

~---------~

"You didn't make him up?"

"Darla was already downstairs when I started out from the
kitchen to wake her up.  I thought you'd gotten her up and
supervised her toilette."

"No." Jane said amazed.  Another skill nearly mastered. 
Obviously, he was practicing *everything* she demanded of him. 
That was not unusual.  All her boys did - eventually, *but*
they always had to be broken down first.

What in heavens was motivating this child?

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

"So, you couldn't read Darla any better than you could read
me, Momma-Jane?"  Michelle asked gently.

A grumbling sound answered that impertinent question and was
followed by a sigh.  "No. I have never had a child so
determined to do everything *perfectly*.  Even when I set her
up to fail so I could discipline her, she just nodded,
accepted the rebuke and the punishment, and kept on trying."

"Poor Momma-Jane." amusement rippled across the lines. "Must
be hell for you, having to punish someone who was really was
trying to do her best at whatever you told her to do."

"You don't know that half of it, Michelle.  I hated it, and
Maria even told me I was being to mean to this one."

"I guess one thing your program never accounted for was a
student who didn't give you any trouble and was committed to
being perfect for you."

"Forgive me for repeating myself, darling, but once again, you
don't know the half of it.  Let me tell you. . ."

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

"Jane?" Maria asked as she entered her friend's den.  "Have
you been reprimanding Darla about her make up and
presentation?  I thought we agreed to ease off her for a few
days while we all got our equilibrium back after Stephanie was
taken from us.  She has given us no real trouble and I don't
like picking on her any more than absolutely necessary."

Jane looked up from her desk planner.  She'd been trying to
set out a new program from Darla to accommodate the loss of
the big sister factor in her student's life.  "Darla's
cosmetics?  Why no, Maria.  I think I even complimented her on
how she looked at breakfast this morning.  Why?"

"Because she cornered me after breakfast when I went up to
change her bedding.  Wanted me to give her some pointers on
different styles of make up, and on how to do it differently
if her coloring was different.  I thought you might have told
her you were going to change her hair color or something like
that."

Frustration with this unpredictable student blossomed anew. 
"You know we never tell the girls if we are planning to do
that to them.  This makes no sense.  Why would she want to
know that?"

"Stephanie's father had different colored hair than she did
when he came for her.  Maybe Darla thinks we changed her color
and wants to be ready for it?"

"And we did, which is one of the reasons why her father
threatened to shave her head, but we've already changed
Darla's hair color.  That red color almost glows in the dark. 
Did she ask you about any specific colors?"

"The usual since you had Sandy turn her into a carrot-top -
blond and brunette."

Jane wanted to pull her own hair out.  "What *is* motivating
the girl?  Why is she trying to anticipate us?  It makes no
bloody sense."

Maria shrugged.  "I still think she is afraid, Jane.  You
don't frighten this one nearly as much as what waits for her
outside your walls. 

"You are convinced that was is behind all of this is her fear
of being sent to jail?"  

"A sweet, gentle-natured child like that would be eaten alive
in a place like that."

"And while I am forced to agree with your evaluation of the
girl, *that* makes no bloody sense, either.  He was convicted
of charges involving the possession of a deadly weapon during
a crime. He has admitted, in court, to having been a member of
one of the most vicious street gangs in Ruth's city. Does
*that* sound like someone sweet or gentle, for goodness sake?"

"You are not normally one to question yourself, Jane. Why
can't you trust what you have in front of you?" Maria asked
softly.

"But he was sent to us to be rehabilitated, Maria.  And right
now, I don't know what to do with him." Jane admitted softly.

"We have time, Jane.  He's not leaving for several months at
the earliest.  Let's find out what is really going down inside
that curly head before we press too hard and go down the wrong
path with this one.  Because we very easily could go wrong.  I
do agree that there is something that does not fit about
Darla."

"I take your point, dear." Jane replied. "I will plan a slower
than usual program until we find something that the child
reacts to."

"What about her requests for make up lessons?"

"I can't see that it hurts anything, unless. . . you don't
think he is a transvestite, do you?"

"There aren't any stains on Darla's sheets or undies, Jane. 
He hasn't reacted to the sensuality of the experience yet. 
Not that finding them proves anything along those lines, in
any case."

"Yes. As we both know, all that proves is that we've started
to reach into his head, which by all accounts, we haven't. 
Sandy even remarked that he did not seem to be at all aroused
during any of her games at the Chalet, either.  I just don't
understand him.  All right.  Do the make up lessons, and I
will try to tease him about it gently.  Maybe being caught
doing something so swishy as *asking* for lessons will open
him up to me.  Oh, and use some of the wigs to change his hair
color when you change his face.  Drill him on color matching. 
And please, Maria, no matter how hard you find do it, at least
*try* to act a little condescending about his efforts.  I
don't want this one becoming too confident of his skills."

"For goodness sake, why, Jane?" Maria asked, once again
exasperated.

"Because he is smart enough to recognize that escape from here
*is* possible, and a boy who can change into several different
and believable female identities would have an excellent
chance to do just that."  Jane said solemnly.

"You really think that is a possibility?  We've never had a
boy take off before."

"Michael did, and in his own way, this one is just as
different and just as intelligent as Michael."

Maria considered that and nodded.  "All right.  I'll teach
him, but I'll try to make him think he's not making as much
progress as I am sure that actually will make."


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