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From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: RP JayCee 8/9
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TG: "JayCee" by Vickie Tern, 8/9 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.
Well, it happens I did. Marianne got wonderfully excited, and
got herself up in that slinky green dress and high, high heels.
With her delicate air and her brilliant smile outlined in bright
crimson, she was a smashing success.
The day before the party we practiced dancing while suspended
by a cord. Our slow dancing got so amorous we never managed to
finish a set. Marianne got so hot that she told me whatever we'd
done with each other, and that was a lot, she always had to go over
to Ron's for a good fucking afterward to finish her off. She
kissed me in case I needed reassurance, but she told me she now
thought a hot cock spurting into her bowels was one of God's
greatest gifts. I wasn't sure about that myself, but I couldn't
disagree.
I warned her that during this first night of partying she
should put out for no one no matter how badly she might feel
tempted, or she'd get a reputation for being easy, and that meant
she'd have to put out for everyone. Especially, she'd be bothered
all year by nerds who could only get dates with sluts no one else
wanted.
I doubt she needed to be told that. During the party she
played games. She got one guy groveling on the floor looking for
an earring for her, and then she straddled his head with her high
heels, and looked down at him, and flashed her panties at him, and
asked if he'd found what he was looking for. He must have creamed
in his jeans right then and there. During every dance, she brushed
her breasts against her partners unrelentingly, with noticeable
effect on the size of the bulge in their pants. Then, the way she
glanced at their swollen crotches and pursed her mouth the way we'd
been taught, then smiled at them, she seemed to promise every guy
she met a fabulous cocksucking. Shameless? Guys drooling in their
pants? There wasn't a dry pair of drawers in the house, I'm sure.
The next night after the house party Marianne had dinner with
my family so we could get an early start on a movie together.
Registration time for the school year was approaching, and she'd
need soon to make up her mind, was she Marianne, a tease who had
lots of fun, or was she Marion, a boy with tits. That was the
deal.
When we were both of us were using our best modeling school
manners to butter bread and scoop up salad, my mother said, "You
know, it's strange, dear. When I first met you the day you moved
in, I thought you were a boy. I suppose it was those loose clothes
you were wearing to help with the move."
"Marianne?" I said surprised "A boy? Did you see her in that
green dress yesterday?"
"As it happens, I did see her," said my mother, quickly
distracted, "That's a lovely dress, dear. Green is certainly your
color. I wish JayCee would dress herself as attractively. But to
each her own I suppose."
"I think we're lucky," Marianne answered thoughtfully. "Girls
can wear anything we want. We can play with who we are. Boys and
men don't get much chance even to find out what they might enjoy
wearing if they could."
So there we were. Marianne was one of "we" girls in front of
my mother. If Marianne was ever going to be a boy again, she'd
certainly have a lot to explain to my mother, who now thought she'd
been wrong when she first met him and thought he was a boy. Or
else she'd have to leave town. Marianne seemed unworried by the
prospect.
Then after the movie when we were walking home from the mall,
two guys I knew showed up. It was a hot night, and Marianne
happened to be wearing not much at all. Some sandals with three
inch heels, because it was one of her "heel" days, when she wanted
to practice walking in heels as she'd been taught, with a really
provocative sway to her rump, and short shorts, and the barest
see-through blouse with her prettiest lace bra altogether visible.
Her hair was piled high off her neck, and held there with a darling
little gold comb. And she'd slathered on the eye makeup, because
I'd commented that at night in dark places you can't wear too much
eye makeup, and for a joke she'd been trying to prove I was wrong.
Seductive? She looked scorching! And who should happen by?
"Hi JayCee. Arent you going to introduce us?"
I looked, and immediately saw manna from heaven! Money in the
bank. "Hi, Jeff, Will. This is Jeffrey and Wilmott, Marianne,"
I said. "Jeff is President of the Senior Class this coming year.
He bought the votes with Wilmott's money. They do things like that
together."
They were paying no attention to me. "Hi, Marianne," they
both said together, each one taking one of her hands, and then
realizing they were being ridiculous, but neither one wanting to
let go. We walked four abreast for a while, bumping into each
other, and finally we split off, Marianne with Jeff and me with
Wilmott, talking about how our summer had gone as they walked each
of us home.
Willmot was already on my string -- we'd already dated a few
times, and he had graduated from only licking my pussy to my
jacking him off if he said sweet things to me, though he was still
a long way from my ass. I began scouting him in a new way, though.
His parents had maybe even more money than Jane seemed to have, and
I was thinking I should know more about what rich boys like, if I'd
be going to college where they went. I later found out rich boys
want the same things any boy wants, only they think they're
entitled. That gave me special pleasure later on, when I'd make
someone especially wealthy beg permission to humiliate himself, and
then refuse him.
Soon after I got home from our movie date my bedroom phone
rang. It was Marianne of course, just delivered to her house by
Jeff.
"Wasn't that wonderful, JayCee, running into those two boys.
Are all the boys in the senior class that nice? And handsome?"
"No, Marianne. But lots are. Why are you so excited now
about two more guys in your life. You were one yourself not long
ago, remember?"
"One thing at a time, JayCee. First, Jeff wants to take me to
the RamaRama concert a week from Saturday. He's got tickets!
JayCee, no one can get tickets to that concert, not for weeks now!
I told him Yes! I'm so excited! Can I borrow that embroidered
jumper of yours? I'm sure it would fit, maybe it would be a little
short, but for a concert that's fine, and with a boy like Jeff,
better than fine. Or would you go shopping with me to help me buy
something like it?"
I checked and doublechecked the calendar in my head, then
looked at the one on my desk.
"Marianne, slow down. Listen carefully. You accepted a date
with Jeff for a week from Saturday?"
"Yes. Is there something about him I should know?"
"No. Something about yourself. The previous Wednesday you
and your mother will be registering for the Fall term at the High
School. As what? That's when our agreement ends. You'll have
tried out what it's like to be a girl, in order to make up your own
mind which you prefer."
"So?"
"So?" I mimicked her. "You sound as if you've made up your
mind."
"JayCee, how can I ever go back to being Marion? Jeff knows
where I live. He thinks he knows who I am. He thinks I'm a girl.
So does your mother. And you know something, so do I, most of the
time these days. It's *so* much more fun!"
"Marianne, listen to me. Do you want to be Marion in school?"
"I'd thought that was what I wanted. I mean, playing Marianne
for the summer was a good idea, certainly, but.... Well, if all
the kids think that's who I am, I can't be anyone else, can I?"
"No, you can't. But Marianne can disappear, and Marion can
replace her. Who'd suspect foul play? This is a small town.
Decision time. Who would you rather be?"
"JayCee" -- she was still playing hard to get to decide -- "I
have more fun as Marianne. I look more like Marianne. With you I
feel more like Marianne. As Marianne, I felt like kissing Jeff
goodnight just now, so I did. It was so sweet, JayCee! Don't
worry, only on the cheek. But how could I do that as Marion?"
"Talk it over with your Mom."
Now her voice changed. I realized that she'd been riding the
high wave of her excitement over dating Jeff, a charmer and the
class President, a kind of signature on her success as a girl.
But all the while, she knew there were serious things going on.
"I did talk with my Mom, JayCee. She says I can date boys
through the first term, and enlarge my circle of friends among the
girls in the class. I can giggle and be one of the girls easily
now, ever since the modeling class, thanks to you, and I'm sure
I'll get on fine with the other girls. The other girls, JayCee,
that's how I feel about them."
"Marion never had a social life, and never will, he's so
self-conscious about his body. You were right all along, JayCee.
I love being Marianne. I really have no choice anymore anyhow.
But if being Marianne doesn't work out, my Mom says, we'll move
again to another school at mid year. If it does work out, then
I'll be Marianne through the whole of next year, and that'll mean
through college and for life. I like the idea."
"You've helped me wonderfully, JayCee. I hope you still will.
Now I know how to make love to a girl because of you, and how girls
can make love to each other. I know how to satisfy boys with my
mouth and my ass, and how to satisfy my mind by making them jump
through hoops too if I feel like it. I know how to tell boys not
to use my pussy because I'm not on the pill (even though I am), but
that if they want to push into my ass I'd love it. And I do. I do
love it. So will they too, I expect. Marianne hasn't got a pussy
for them to lick, the way you do, but you can't have everything,
and there's really no choice any more."
"Think about it. The way I move and talk, and the things I
like talking about these days, how can I ever be a boy again? I'd
look and sound like the most flaming nancy anyone ever saw. And
with tits? I'd be a real freak! You made the point weeks ago, but
I didn't want to believe it them. I've got no choice." She
paused. "JayCee, will you lend me that jumper? Please? Or else
come shopping with me?"
"Come over tomorrow, and we'll try it on you," I said. "But while
we're on the topic, will you take one more word of advice?"
"As many as you have, JayCee."
"After the concert, you should try to swallow all of it when
he cums. Boys like that. For them it's kind of like cumming
inside you. I don't know if you ever did blow Ronnie all the way
or if you mostly let him cum only when he was fucking Mary Fist,
but that's the way it is with boys like Jeff."
"I appreciate that, JayCee. I really do. Thank you."
A half hour later Jane called to thank me as well, and to find
out how she should address her firm's letter of congratulations to
me on my being granted a four year full scholarship to any college
of my choice. And to ask my opinion about various ways to set up
the trust fund, before she spoke to my folks about it. Part way
through, she started crying. So did I. And ten minutes later,
neither of us had managed to stop crying, so we said we'd talk
together again real soon and hung up.
VIII.
Well, our two Senior years went about how you'd expect. We
saw a lot of each other, as girls will, and double-dated sometimes,
but we each had our own separate lives to get on with too. I got
into interscholastic Brain Trust competitions, and wiped up the
floor with competing teams from lots of other different high
schools, not because I knew more than they did, but because I knew
how to look at the boys on the other teams when they thought they
knew more -- sometimes an injured look, sometimes furious, I could
always tell what would fluster them. I won a Thousand Dollar
Scholarship from the competition's sponsors for the highest scores
in the All-State division, but that was scarcely noticeable when it
went into the trust fund Jane set up for me. I got good grades,
but that's never been a problem for me, and I got into just the
right kind of college too, and I'm about to graduate this year.
But wait, I'll get there.
My sex life that last Senior year also went the way you'd
expect. I enlarged the number of guys I had on my string, and they
kept me plenty satisfied. Five of them earned rear end privileges
that year. I took in guys with wealthy parents and big allowances,
who bought me the nicest presents whenever I gave them the
opportunity, and took me to terrific shows and concerts. Gradually
I refined my ways of dealing with them, and even now they
appreciate it when I give them a call and let them do things for
me.
I finally allowed two real dolts to fuck me properly in the
cunt, the way Marianne had done it with her little clit when she
took my virginity. I could let them because they were both big,
tough, and nasty, so it was easy for me to threaten each of them
with quick retribution from the other if he ever said anything
about me and word got around. It was OK. Guys are guys, I
decided, no big deal.
Way better were my sessions with Marianne. She was so sweet!
So all-girl! Somehow, whatever we ever did together, go to the
beauty parlor, cheer the hunks at a football game, shop, check out
a movie or a concert, share our homework assignments, we always
ended up in bed together, and it was always just lovely. Toward
the end, I got a feeling that Marianne was less passionate than I
was, even a little absent-minded when we were making love. But my
own desires more than made up for it!
Marianne looked like she was having a blast, and it turned out
she was. She auditioned for the role of Viola in our class play,
Shakespeare's *Twelfth Night*, Viola being a girl who pretends to
be a boy, usually played by a boy actor in SHakespeare's time, only
Marianne was a boy no longer pretending to be a girl but pretending
to be a boy. She got a standing ovation -- no one had ever seen as
dainty and feminine a girl become as noble and gallant a gentleman,
and then change back again. She dated Jeff a few times more, and
they really looked like an Item for Keeps, but one sad evening she
told him she wasn't really ready for him, and she started dating
lots of other guys. Lots. I lost count. Ronnie told me they
still saw each other now and then, I figured probably for the same
reasons we still saw each other, for the sake of old times and
present friendship.
But Jeff was her date for her Senior Prom after all, and just
as her mother had wanted, it was magical for her. He'd carried the
torch for her the whole time, all through that year, and when he
asked her late that Spring, he looked so sorrowful, she told me,
she had to accept. I remember her well, the specially chosen date
of the President of the Senior Class making her grand entrance on
his arm. She was radiant. True, she wasn't voted Queen of the
Prom, but as Jeff's date she got to crown the Prom Queen, a twit we
all knew was already pregnant by the son of the local bookmaker.
She did it as if she herself were made of whipped cream, parfait,
and air, and no one looked at the Queen. Wherever Marianne went in
her floating white gown, that night she seemed suspended from the
heavens.
That night was Jeff's night too. She told me that Jeff's
prick was even bigger than Ronnie's, and a lot fatter, she knew
that from blowing him after the RamaRama concert, and that she
wanted to make his Prom night with her unforgettable. She owed him
so much. He had been her first real crush, one of the most
important reasons why she had become what she was, and she couldn't
ever forget it. So during the weeks preceding their big night
together we worked systematically to enlarge Marianne's rosebud,
with bigger and bigger butt plugs, and before she started to get
dressed for her Prom -- she looked absolutely angelic, have I
mentioned that? -- we gave her four successive enemas, so she would
be clean and sweet for him. And she was.
She danced every dance, with Jeff more than with any other
guy, but also with lots of the guys she'd dated during the year,
who kept coming back to her the way mine did when I'd let them.
For Marianne though, that night, Jeff was special. When the dance
ended at two in the morning we all went together to Burger Bob's,
and then afterward we each went withour dates our own separate
ways.
I was feeling nostalgic, and arranged to play Show and Tell
with two utterly straight arrows I wanted to see blow each other
before my high school years ended -- my date and another girl's
date, a girl who bet me I couldn't get either of them to do it, and
who thereby lost a double forfeit. They looked beautiful, 69ing
together on the grass with their eyes tight shut, like hungry
nursing infants. The other guy's date, the girl who lost her bet
with me, was just amazed to watch my techniques as I persuaded them
to go ahead and suck each other off. As tuition alone she got her
money's worth
But Marianne's was the real romantic adventure. As she told
me afterward, at four in the morning when the early dawn light in
the sky was just enough visible to keep the street lamps from
seeming lonely, she and Jeff parked on High Ridge Hill and looked
down on all the gleaming and twinkling lights of the city below.
Marianne blew Jeff twice, and the second time when they kissed, he
sipped his own semen from her lips, lost in a delicious erotic
trance. Then he wanted desperately to do something for her,
anything, as she knew he would. So she bent way over in the car
seat, on her back with her legs high in the air, and with what she
later described as an imaginary blare of trumpets, Jeff entered her
rear with his enormous cock. She was absolutely rapturous, telling
me about it a few days later, when she could again think about it
without choking up for joy. He fucked her for nearly an hour
before she came finally into her Kotex pad, delerious with pleasure
for the last half-hour of it and hoarse from screaming, and then
finally he came deep inside her. They solemnly traded class rings,
which was just as well as a gesture Marianne told me, because their
fingers were each the same size and the rings were identical. She
had stars in her eyes the whole time, Marianne said, and when she
got home and woke up the following afternoon, she found her mother
had already pressed her corsage into the family Bible. It was
perfect!
We went to different colleges that fall, and we stayed in
touch during the next few years. Marianne majored in business to
prepare herself to take over some of her mother's spinoff
companies, and she means to do just that now that she's graduating.
I majored in psychology, developmental psych because I wanted to
know everything that's known about bringing people from one concept
of themselves to another, and abnormal because as I already knew,
people's kinks are their most interesting features, the ones where
they find their greatest joys, and I wanted to teach them how to
accept them. The world could do with more more accepting of
oddity.
IX.
Not long ago I returned home for the Easter break just before
graduation from college. I'd already been admitted for graduate
training in Clinical Psychology, and decided to specialize in
gender identity transformation, a core area of concern to me. It
seemed to me that there's an enormous need for specialists to help
men convert to become the women they wish to be, or women the men.
My own experience with Marianne I found was in no way unique. But
I had an idea I wanted to float past Jane. I had plans for the
future, and I wanted to see if she was interested in a partnership.
It was old home week. I ran into Ronnie almost immediately --
he'd tried different things and had finally become a hairdresser,
with his massive, muscled physique the most fashionable and
successful one in town. He smiled wickedly when he told me that
two of his seven employees, his cute little manicurist and his
vivacious curling assistant, were both really boys under their
short-skirted smocks and impeccable makeup, and that in fact they
were going steady with each other. We chatted about different
people we'd known. I asked him about Petey, and Ron shook his
head. "Petey never straightened himself out," Ronnie said. "He
went with a couple of tops like me for a while, then with an s/m
motorcycle gang, and lately he's taken up with a little girl way
below the age of consent. He says he prefers her to anyone he's
ever met, because she doesn't boss him around. But the FBI are
already watching him, and I don't think that relationship has a
future."
A pity, I thought, and Ronnie agreed. And what of Marianne?
I hadn't seen her for several years.
Ronnie brightened. "JayCee, I thought you knew. We're going
steady, in a way. We're even thinking we might get engaged.
Marianne often comes home to learn more about taking over a big
chunk of his mother's business. I see him all the time. Didn't he
write you?"
"No," I said. "Marianne didn't write me. Why do you call her
'he' when you speak of her? You're thinking about an engagement?
To each other? I'm confused."
Ronnie moved to the edge of the streetcorner where we'd just
run into each other. "I have to go. Why don't you phone ahead,
then show up for cocktails this afternoon at Marianne's mother's
house. He's home from college just before graduation, just like
you. I know they'll both be overjoyed to see you. They always
speak of you with love and respect and admiration, even a little
awe. And Jane mentioned you need to talk business with her anyow,
isn't that so?"
I did. But Ronnie and Marianne, a couple? This was
bewildering! Had Marianne reverted back to being a boy?
When I came to the front door, there was Marianne looking as
beautiful as ever. We immediately fell into each other's arms and
hugged each other, and kissed each other with deep affection,
immediately back in our old relationship. It was so wonderful! It
was as if years and separate lives had never come between us, and
there we were about to complete our last year in High School all
over again.
"My dearest JayCee! Do come in! Mom'll be here shortly --
she stepped out only a minute ago. We've got so much to tell each
other!" Our cheeks were wet, and Marianne's eyes were as brimfull
as mine, pools of mascara beginning to flow from them as she pulled
me into the house and sat me down in the kitchen, in the very same
chair where nearly five years earlier I'd discussed her
transformation with her mother. I'm sure my face looked a mess
too, but it was a terribly moving moment for both of us. We
couldn't let go of each other, or stop kissing each other's cheeks
and hair.
When I could recover. I just looked at her. "Marianne, you
haven't changed at all. You look just the same."
"And you too, JayCee! It's so good to see you haven't really
changed either! Despite how you do your hair now. That's lovely
too, incidentally!"
"But you've changed in other ways, just a little, haven't you,
Marianne? When we were still close, you were dating straight men,
the prize studs in our high school And delighted to be the
attractive girl you'd decided to become."
She nodded, still looking so very pleased to see me she seemed
scarcely to be listening.
"Now Ronnie tells me you two are thinking of getting engaged?"
She smiled her half-smile, and nodded.
"That's wonderful news, but a little puzzling. I'm sure you
know that. Everything I've learned tells me that physical sex can
be changed surgically, and gender identity sometimes, as in your
case, but sexual preferences rarely. Maybe never. Isn't Ronnie
still gay? Gay, and planning to marry a gorgeous woman like you?
How can that be? He'd never marry just to go stealth with his
homosexuality. He's proud of it."
Marianne looked at me with kindly affection.
"This may shock you, JayCee, but I know you'll understand. I
haven't changed. I'm not a woman. I've never been a woman. That
summer we met I was a boy with tits, and now deep in my heart I'm
a man with tits."
I stared at her speechless.
"I'm gay, JayCee. Like Ronnie. And I'm proud of it too. My
mother never knew it. I didn't know it when you started teaching
me how to become a girl, a woman, the woman I seem to be even now.
But I knew it soon after that last year of High School began, and
I accepted it, and I've never looked back. I don't really regret
it. I am what I am. It's been just wonderful! It will be for the
rest of my life, I just know it."
I tried to smile with her. I was happy for her. She was
happy, and she always looked especially beautiful when she was
happy, and she looked especially beautiful. She? Ronnie had
called her "he." And she had just called herself a man. A man
with tits. A man with tits in a beautifully cut Chanel type suit
and a silk, scoop-necked blouse. And diamond drop earrings. And
trim, elegant 3" heels.
She saw me looking her up and down, struggling with this
revelation.
"That time I made it with you as a man was nice, JayCee, and
I appreciate what you did for me that day especially, and that I
was your first man where it mattered, and all. I'll never forget
it. And we've had some beautiful times together, making love as
women. But Ronnie really opened me out to what I am, that time by
your swimming pool. And then that night with Jeff after the
concert, our first date, when dawn came and I was still making love
to his cock, and couldn't stop myself, and he was still able to get
hard and cum in my mouth yet again, as I so wanted him to do -- I
didn't understand it. I couldn't come near him without feeling my
own cock start to drool."
"It was hopeless, of course. Jeff is as straight as a man can
be, which is why he was attracted to me in the first place, and
even fell in love with me, a little. I did try to cool it with him
and take up other guys. All through that last year, with lots of
other guys. And I loved sex with them, the same way I love it with
Ronnie. I used your line about saving your cunt for the father of
your children, and I used them to pleasure me the way you use men,
but I didn't love any of them. If anyone, I loved Jeff. I truly
loved Jeff."
"That's only natural, Marianne. You were a girl. A woman.
Women love men."
"No, JayCee, just listen. Women love men. But so do gay men.
I loved Jeff as a gay man. That Prom night is still the happiest
night of my life. I was back with Jeff one last time, kissing and
sucking and licking him the way I'd always wanted ever since we
first met at the movies and he first walked me home. I wanted to
eat him up. It was just marvelous! And then when finally I was
ready, and had to have him, for the first time to feel his meat
crammed deep into me, to feel him pump his juices deep into me --
heaven! And when he fell asleep in my arms as dawn came on High
Ridge Hill, and the sun rose and woke him, and I looked at his face
and held him all the while he slept? Ecstasy! Beyond belief!
He's the man I was born for, JayCee. His is the penis destined to
enter my vagina, if I had one, and it's his sperm I'd want to have
share in the creation of my children, if I could have any."
end 8/9
Vickie Tern@AOL.COM
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