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From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: RP JayCee 3/9
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TG: "JayCee" by Vickie Tern, 3/9 teen femdom, m/f etc

This story contains no unnatural acts only because nothing in
nature is unnatural.  But various characters here do uncommon
things with each other, as well as the usual things, always
considerate of each other's feelings.  If this offends you, read no
further.  

If you're under whatever the age of consent where you live, read no
further.  You might learn to do uncommon things while being
considerate, as well as the usual things, and we can't have that.

Vickie Tern's stories are archived at
http://library.gaycafe.com/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Vickie_Tern 

To archivists everywhere who make stories like these freely available 
to those who enjoy them, thanks.  You are among the glories of the Net.

Also, I appreciate any kind of e-mail comment on my stories, 
VickieTern@AOL.COM, and I usually reply in kind.





     Marion's mother was thin too, like him, with a nice figure,
and though she wore no makeup at all it was obvious that she could
look stunning whenever she chose -- she had the same high
cheekbones as her son, and the same almond-shaped eyes, and she had
the same black lashes, though on a woman you can never tell.  She
carried herself like a dancer -- there was something poised and
formally gracious even in the way she turned to greet me.  Her hair
was fairly long for a woman her age, and piled high up on her head,
the way mine was pinned up.  She made pleased and surprised noises
to see the two of us together, looking from one of us to the other
and saying something about my mother's visit the day they first
moved in.  So she knew who I was already, without being introduced. 
I saw that the kitchen window in front of her cutting board on the
counter gave her a full view of our entire promenade, from my
calculated crouch in front of my own house practically to their
front steps.  I glanced out that window, then at his mother again. 
She was watching me, and we saw we understood each other perfectly. 
She smiled.  Marion put the bag on the kitchen table between them.

     "JayCee, isn't it," his mother said wiping a hand on her
apron, and offering it.  "I'm Jane.  Just 'Jane' please.  No
formalities here.  I'm delighted to meet you, I'm sure you know
that."  Then to her son, "You got the prescriptions too, Marion? 
The vitamins?  Yes, here they are."  She opened the pill bottles
and took two from one, then one from the other, huge as pills go,
and handed them to him.  "Take these now," she told him.  "Then if
you don't mind, that washing machine isn't hooked up right.  Would
you mind going down and reversing the hoses, and put it up on its
blocks, and check it over, then holler to me when you think it's
finally installed right, so I can bring down some washing and we
can test it out?"

     "Sure, Mom," he said.  "I'll see you, JayCee!"

     "When you come up.  I'll look after your friend meanwhile. 
I'd like to get to know JayCee a little, if she doesn't mind, now
that she's here.  You go down and we'll talk, and we'll be here
when you've done what you need to do."  

     He went down to the cellar to fix the washing machine or
whatever.  I looked at her expectantly.  She hadn't gotten rid of
her son just to pass the time of day with me.  "Your mother told me
you were a nice girl," his mother said to me when we were out of
his hearing.  "She didn't tell me you were also clever.  I see that
for myself.  I'm pleased to know you."

     "Likewise," I said, not much into formalities myself.  I
looked her straight in the eye, and she looked straight into mine. 
I liked her immediately.  "Mrs....um, Jane, you have a nice son. 
I like him."

     "Yes, I just heard you tell him that," she commented with a
small smile.  Meaning she'd also heard me call him Mary.  She
didn't seem to mind.  Also meaning, she didn't want secrets between
us.

     This emboldened me, but I remembered my manners.  "Can I ask
you something, Mrs...Jane, I mean?  Right out, with no 'I know its
really none of my business, but...' stuff?"

     I had never spoken to anyone like that before.  Not so blunt. 
But Marion's mother seemed to invite it.  I could sense that, and
I wanted her respect, and I sensed this was how to get it.

     "Absolutely, JayCee!  No 'none of my business stuff...'
between us ever, OK?"  

     "Great!" I said thinking to myself that there were certainly
some secrets around here, if she's that open about being open with
me.  "I guess I've got two questions, really.  The first is, why
did you name your son 'Marion'?  That was asking for trouble for
him."

     She looked at me steadily, then sat down at the table and
leaned on her elbows, and twined her wrists together and clasped
her hands.  It was a graceful gesture, like an actress or a model,
and I thought I might try that some time myself.  It might be
useful.  She found it useful, obviously.  She nodded for me to sit
too, so I did.

     "You ask without preliminaries, so I'll answer the same way. 
By the time Marion was born I knew I was going to divorce his
father.  His father is a real shit, a vicious man with no respect
for anyone he can't control, especially women, and a foul-mouthed
wife-beater.  I'd wanted a daughter of my very own, so at least I
could carry something good away from my years with him, not a son
who might  look up to that bastard and maybe some day choose to
live with him, and to think and behave like him.  And a daughter
he'd never contest during a divorce.  He'd want all kinds of rights
over a son."  

     "But we take what we get.  I got a boy.  So I gave him a boy's
name I could imagine was a girl's name, and everyone else could
think was a girl's name if they wanted to.   That way I saw to it
that I was asking for the right kind of trouble for him.  He's
still a little defensive, the way adolescent boys are, but you must
have noticed, he doesn't feel it's al all demeaning to be carrying
what sounds like a girl's name.  You can call him 'Mary' to tease
him, if you like, or even 'Marianne' all the time, and it doesn't
bother him at all.  He takes no notice.  He's not insulted that his
name sounds like a girl's.  He respects girls.  He's had to learn
to respect them in order to respect himself, and not go through
life cringing and apologizing for things that aren't his fault." 
She sat back and smiled.  "Then when his father came home from some
long overseas engineering and whoring trip and got infuriated to
learn that he now had a son named Marion, well, that was another
plus."  

     "Ok, Mrs. ... uh, ma'am, fair enough.  Just now I...."

     "'Jane,' please, JayCee, if you don't mind."

     "No, Jane, I don't mind at all.  I like it.  I like you too." 
I really did.  Why did I want her to know right off?   "That
explains why he didn't mind my calling him 'Marianne' or 'Mary.' 
I didn't get anywhere near him with that."

     "Closer than you'd think, but not the way you'd think, JayCee. 
 'Marianne's' a lovely version of 'Marion.'  And so is he.  I wish
I'd thought of it!  I'm glad you did.  You had another question?"

     "Yes, ma'am.  Yes, Jane.  This one's a little more serious." 
I really hesitated, then I just blurted it out.  "Why are you
feeding your son female hormones and telling him they're vitamins?"

     Jane glanced at the bottles between us on the table, then
looked at me mildly but steadily.  "When he was a boy he had
asthma," she said, "And he got accustomed to taking vitamin
supplements and allergy shots.  He thinks he still is."

     That wasn't really relevant, except that now I knew that he
was also shooting up female hormones, and didn't know that either. 
Pretty heavy duty stuff.  I sat there waiting.

     "May I ask how you know what these are?"  She picked one up
and held it as if to read the label, but didn't bother looking at
it.

     I told her.  And how I knew they weren't for her.

     She glanced at the Kotex package when I mentioned it, with a
quick smile.  Then she resumed looking straight at me.  She added
gently, as if reminiscing, "Yes, I saw you reading the labels
earlier while you two were walking here.  I knew you knew.  And I
notice that neither then nor just now did you say anything to him. 
You saw as soon as you both walked in here that he didn't even
blink when I called them vitamins and handed him some.  He still
thinks they're vitamins.  "

     Now I felt like a co-conspirator.  Was that was how she wanted
me to feel?  

     "He also gets hormone shots, as I've just told you, and I have
his blood monitored carefully each month.  I love him, and I take
no chances with him.  He needs to overcome his body's natural
production of male hormones, so he needs heavy doses of estrogen
and so forth.  If he'd had an arranged accident when he was
younger, and lost his testicles, he could have gone on much smaller
doses to complete his puberty.  But it's too late now -- now he'd
think it was a disaster if it happened, and I don't want him to
suffer anything traumatic like that ever!"

     But she still wasn't answering my question.  

     She looked steadily at me a moment longer, then she suddenly
straightened up.  "JayCee," she said.  "Can I talk to you frankly,
woman to woman?  No 'stuff' at all?"

     Now she really wanted to make me a co-conspirator, no question
about it.  What she wanted to say was not to be known even by her
own son.  It could be a barrier between me and Marion, if we ever
got close.  I hesitated, but I'd never known anyone like this
woman.  She was elegant and yet down-to-earth, direct yet extremely
tactful,  gracious, smart, and she knew her own mind.  She was
already some of the things I realized I wanted to be.  "Yes, of
course, ah, Jane," I said.  She knew I knew what she was really
asking.  But that wasn't good enough for her.  She had to underline
it.

     "What I say now never leaves this room.  And Marion or
'Marianne' is never to hear of it.  Are you willing to agree to
that?"

     "Sure," I said.  I love mysteries, and a big one was about to
be unfolded.

     "I just told you that when Marion was born I wanted a girl,
didn't I?"

     I nodded.

     "Well, in a nutshell, I'm getting one.  Marion is becoming a
girl.  I've arranged for him to have a girl's puberty instead of a
boy's puberty.  He doesn't know it himself yet, but this summer
coming up is a crucial one for his development.  I want to use it
to ease his transition to living as a girl full time by the time
school begins again, not merely so he'll accept it, but so he'll
enjoy it.  So he'll love it!  So he can start school this Fall as
a girl, and never again be anything else, and for the rest of his
life never look back.  Never wish to be anything else.  That's one
reason why we moved here, where no one knows him.  No questions, no
curiosity, no mockery.  A whole new beginning." 

     I was dumbfounded.  I leaned forward and asked her yet again. 
"Jane, why are you doing this to him."

     "Not to him, with him," his mother said.  "For him.  For
different reasons.  Let me list a few, and let's see if they don't
make sense to you."  

     "First, girls are nicer than boys.  If you don't know that
yet, you will.  But I think you do.  Also, girls have more
character than boys.  They can endure and survive more, and once
they understand how boys tick they can put themselves in charge
without even seeming to be there at all.  Because most boys really
want girls to be in charge.  I think you've already found that out
too, haven't you, JayCee?"

     "Yes, I suppose I have," I said evenly, wondering how she
knew.

     "Well, that's what I want for my baby.  To be what you are. 
To know what you know.  To live the life you'll live.  You be the
judge, JayCee.  Which would you rather be?  A girl or a boy?  For
the rest of your life."

     A girl, of course.  For the rest of my life?  Why should
anyone ever want to be a boy?  But I didn't answer her.  There was
really nothing for me to say.  She didn't mean for me to answer. 
I waited.

     "Secondly, I'm still young.  Still in my thirties.  I go out,
and I invite friends back to the house now and then, and sometimes
I'll ask them to dinner here, and sometimes a special friend'll
stay overnight.  It sounds selfish, I know, but it isn't.  Now, I
am not a storybook mother whose whole life is dedicated to her
child.  I wouldn't want to burden any child of mine with the notion
that I sacrificed my life for him.  For her.  That's a terrible
burden for any child to bear.  So I have my friends over.  I enjoy
their companionship and the sex, and so on, and I expect my child
to understand.  It's my life too."

     "Well, responses to a parent's sexuality are fairly standard
according to a child's gender.  At Marion's age boys resent their
mothers' sexuality.  Girls don't.  A girl may even admire their
mother's boyfriends, though usually they resent their father's
girlfriends.  Well, I don't need a resentful adolescent son
implying to any of my guests that they're not welcome, or moping
about unhappy because my life and my affections aren't exclusively
devoted to him.  I love Marion dearly, but I'd love to fall in love
again with someone I can take to bed and dedicate to my own
pleasure, and I'd never want Marion to be in the way.  I'm still
looking."

     I thought, I should be feeling embarrassed to hear that.  But
I wasn't.  I understood well enough.

     "On the other hand, it's nice for everyone when a woman is
living with a teenage daughter.  Daughters understand how their
mothers' feel, and don't feel threatened themselves.  In fact,
sometimes a pretty daughter somewhere in the house can't help but
enrich a guest's fantasy and intensify any romantic moods.  Even a
decent person who'd never touch her.  You're a daughter.  Don't the
older men who come into your house sometimes seem to feel a
compulsion to turn on the charm when they look at you?  Even though
you're your father and mother's child, and untouchable?"

     "More often than sometimes," I said.  I grinned to myself, and
she saw and grinned back at me.  

     "You're a real pet, JayCee.  You hear me perfectly, I can
tell.  Now, so far what I've described are the advantages of having
a daughter instead of a son.  My third reason is why it's necessary
for Marion to be my daughter, not my son.  Not just advantageous,
but necessary.  Crucial.  It's this.  His father comes back now and
then to claim his unlimited visitation rights over Marion.  That
was the price I paid to get a decent child support allotment when
he first abandoned us.  I make plenty of money now, but I didn't
then.  I needed every penny, and the price I paid for it was, any
time after Marion turns 16, and he's just done that, his father can
take him away from me for as long as he likes, and keep him as far
away as he likes."

     "Well, that man resents me.  In fact he has contempt for all
the women who have ever associated themselves with him.  He's
boasted to me that he means to come back and take Marion away and
keep him away for good.  He said he was going to turn Marion into
his kind of man, which means a self-gratifying, conceited, sexist
boor like himself.  A calculating rapist who'll never get caught. 
And he could do it.  At Marion's age a young man is attracted to
the idea that women exist only for his pleasure.  It solves all of
his problems, of relationship, and responsibility, and adequacy,
and respect, everything, all at once.  Marion will want to believe
it, and his father can be persuasive.  Already there've been times
when Marion came home from a week's visit with his father with his
mouth spewing filth, arrogant, for weeks useless around the house,
because he'd adopted his father's belief that women are lower forms
of life placed on earth to serve men."  

     "Well, I mean to put Marion beyond his reach, beyond the
slightest interest his father might ever have in him.  That bastard
is overseas now, and means to take Marion away from me when he
returns next year.  He's told me that repeatedly, to upset me and
then gloat.  Well, when he gets back next year I want him to
discover that his son is the sweetest, loveliest daughter any man
ever disowned.  A lovely girl and a respectable young woman.  And
I'll confess it to you, JayCee, I'll get a lot of personal
satisfaction from seeing my ex when he sees he's lost a son and
gained a daughter.  That'll fix him once and for all!"

     Changing her son's sex just to get back at her ex struck me as
a little harsh, but I saw she wasn't really doing that.  She was
protecting him from her ex, and protecting a lot of women from what
he might become after her ex corrupted him.  I really couldn't
quarrel with that.  In fact I decided to enter even deeper into our
conspiracy by asking some more questions.

     "Marianne knows nothing of any of this?"

     "Nothing, JayCee.  Well, he knows he's having an odd
adolescence, but I've assured him he'll get over it.  As he will." 

     "When are you going to tell him?"

     She stood up and went to the fridge, and took out a Coke. 
Then she looked at me with one eyebrow raised, and I nodded.  She
took out a second coke, handed it over, and sat down again.  I
cracked the can open.

     "Obviously, some time this summer, he'll have to know that he
isn't going to get over it.  Not ever.  That he isn't a peculiar
boy.  That like it or not he's a transsexual girl.  That he'll have
to be a girl for the rest of his life.  That his body is already a
girl's, except for his genitals, and that he needs to change his
gender in his own mind and become a she.  That she can enjoy being
a girl.  But I'm hoping it won't be necessary to tell him."

     "What do you mean?"

     "Think about it.  I'm hoping he'll want it to happen all by
himself, and accept what's happened, so we don't have to tell him
anything.  That he'll help it happen."

     "How do you plan to do that?"

     "By making each step in becoming a girl delightful.  As
attractive as possible.  More desireable than remaining the kind of
boy he is now."  She paused and then looked directly at me.  "Will
you help me, JayCee?  Will you help him?  Will you help Marianne
become herself?"

     I took a swig from my coke can and considered the matter.  "If
he knew, he'd never agree," I said, avoiding a direct answer.

     "No, of course not.  It has to happen because he wants it, not
merely because he agrees to it.  I don't mind if he thinks he has
no choice, and only reconciles himself to it, because I know that
in the long run he'll be grateful.  But back to my question.  Will
you help Marianne become the daughter I want him to be?  The
daughter she should be?  For the rest of this summer?  It would be
so much easier with your help.  You know you'd be doing him a huge
favor, really.  And I can make it well worth your trouble.

     I thought about it.  I didn't have a summer job yet.  "I was
going to work ten or fifteen hours a week at Chicken Licken or
Burger Bob's," I said.  "Evenings.  I figured on earning maybe $75
a week through Labor Day."

     "This is irregular work, but it's a lot more than ten or
fifteen hours," she said.  "It can be a lot of most days.  It's
whatever it takes.  Whatever it costs.  It's my son's life.  My
daughter's life, for the rest of her life."  

     She paused, near tears, swallowed, and recovered herself. 
Then she listened to my silence.  Encouraged, she then went on. 
"JayCee, we can tell your parents you're working for me.  I'm now
setting up training courses for various businesses, the kind they
need when they bring in new computer software to teach to beginning
employees.   I can tell them honestly that at your educational
level you're a typical targeted client and customer who for that
reason can be a very persuasive sales representative.  That's all
true enough.  Each week for the rest of the summer I'll pay you
three times whatever you'd have earned at Burger Bob's.  And if we
accomplish what we wish to accomplish by the end of the summer, and
Marion begins her Senior year in High School as Marianne, and
enjoys being Marianne, I'll see to it that you win my firm's annual
employee full scholarship to any four-year college of your choice,
the money to be held in trust for you by your parents until you can
use it.  That will be a bonus that will need no explanation."

     I just stared at her.

     "Moreover, I'll pay whatever your expenses all summer.  And
that includes clothes.  You'll be enormously helpful going on
buying excursions with him, two girls together deciding on skirts
and things.  You know what girls are wearing these days.  You can
build his confidence by assuring him he'll fit right in with the
other girls.  Her confidence, I should say.  Does that seem fair?"

     I still couldn't speak.

     "She'll be on her own once school begins, of course, because
you'll have prepared her for that.  But I'll want to keep you on
retainer through all of next year, just in case something comes up
that only you can handle.  For my own peace of mind."  

     This was beginning to sound like all the money I'd ever need
for college.  My parents want the best for me, but they aren't well
off, and I'd been expecting to work my way through State, and then
take a job to pay off the loans and debts, leaving graduate school
a long way down the road.

     "JayCee?  Will you help me?  She doesn't have to be the Prom
Queen when she graduates.  Just an ordinary girl.  I'd be so happy
for her if only there's some boy she likes who'll take her to her
prom, and if she's beautiful in her prom dress, and she can feel
the magic I remember from that time of my life, when I was pretty
and young and desireable, with everything ahead of me.  I loved my
own high school prom.  That was the last time in my life I felt
happy and alive when I woke up each morning, before that lying
bastard I married swept away my girlhood, and all my beautiful
dreams."  She blinked and turned her face away from me, and took
several deep breaths.  Then she just kept looking away from me,
looking out of her own kitchen window past my house.  And waited.

     Was I being bought?  Yes.  Well, I thought, also no.  His
mother was right.  What she was asking matched my own deepest
feelings about boys and girls and what's most desireable.  I would
be doing Marianne a favor.  I liked him.  I could help him.  I
would be helping her too.  And the money I'd earn would be real
money.  If it worked, if I could bring it off, I could go to any
college or university that would have me, anywhere in the whole
country.

     Well, I stood up to shake her hand.  As she saw me reach out
toward her, her whole body suddenly shook with a great sob, and
then she opened her arms to me and rushed around the table.  Then
as we hugged each other she really began to cry, and I did too.  I
couldn't help it.  She kissed my cheek and my neck, and I could
feel her wet eyelashes.  My eyes were wet too.  I really was a
co-conspirator, but it felt good.  All in Marianne's best interest. 
I knew that when the dust settled she'd thank us for what we'd
done.

     We broke our embrace and separated a little.  Now we were two
women conspiring together, but we still clasped each other like two
girls dancing.  She was so pleased!  "Invite him over to use your
pool tomorrow, would you?" his mother said.  "And to spend the day? 
He'll say 'No,' of course,  but be sure to leave quickly before you
can hear him say it, and I'll see that he gets there.  Then you'll
see soon enough what his problem is, what our problems are.  And
I'm sure you'll begin to cope."

     His voice came from the cellar.  "Mom?  It's all set up now! 
Let's try it!"

     The two of us grinned at each other.  I never saw a woman so
happy.  

     "JayCee?  Please sit for a moment more, dear.  At least tell
me how you got your name."

     "It's what my Dad said when he first saw me, right after I was
born.  Or it's the initials, anyhow.  He'd wanted a boy, and the
nurse just held me up new born and naked for him to see, and when
he saw my cunt he just said it out loud without thinking.  My Mom
liked what he'd said, what she thought he'd named me, but she
didn't think a girl should have a boy's name.  Not that boy's name,
anyhow.  So they settled for the initals, spelled out sort of.  I
like it."

     Jane smiled at me, and nodded some more.  "I'm very lucky to
know you, JayCee.  I can't believe how lucky I am!  You know, we
used to live across the state in another town about this size, and
I've got a client there with a son named Petey, and Petey once told
me an extraordinary tale about a teenage girl in this town who
helped him discover himself, and how cleverly she did it.  I've
been hoping to meet her so she could help me too.  In fact, that's
why I bought this house in this neighborhood, near you.  To create
opportunities.  I can tell you that, now that we understand each
other, and now that you're on the payroll.  No secrets, right?"  

     I just stared at her.  What an extraordinary businesswoman! 
If she was as resourceful and persuasive with her clients as she'd
just been with me, she must be very wealthy by now, I thought.  No
wonder she can afford to hire me, and even pay my full college
costs for four years, and probably her daughter's too when Marion
becomes her daughter, and yet here she is living in a small house
in a modest part of town, where most kids can't afford college at
all.  She really does love her son.  Her daughter.  

     "Jane," I said.  "I'm very lucky to know you too.  I hope
we'll become very good friends.  There's so much you can teach me."

     She beamed.  "I just may end up with two daughters," she said
happily, "Where I've had none.  That's just lovely!  So very
lovely!"  Then she shouted down the cellar stairs.  "Marianne! 
Come on up now!  JayCee wants to ask you something!"
  
I stood up to deliver my invitation and then make my getaway as
she'd suggested, before Marianne could say "No!"  And that's what
I did.                                       

end3/9
Vickie Tern@AOL.COM

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