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Second Season The Continuing Story of Michelle and Aunt Jane by Tigger Based on the Characters and Situations presented in "Seasons of Change", by Joel Lawrence, Copyright 1989 and reposted by Karen Mitchell in the summer of 1996. No part of Mr. Lawrence's original work has been changed in the writing of this story. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction intended for the entertainment of adults in localities where it is legal for them to enjoy this type of work. If you are not a legal adult, you should not be reading this and moreover, you are abusing the trust someone put in you when they gave you access to the Internet. If it is illegal to read this, then you already know that you are violating the terms of your Internet access. Please leave. If you don't enjoy adult or erotic stories, why are you here? Part 1: Michelle's New Sister Jane was working at her desk in her study. Indian summer had arrived with a vengeance, warming the early autumn day and making the air softly sultry. Jane had been trying to organize her thoughts concerning Michael/Michelle in preparation for making her regular periodic report on her charge's progress. Normally, Jane phoned her old schoolmate, Barbara, but that was not possible. Barbara was off on another of her jaunts and was not available by phone. Not to her. Not to Michael, either, should Jane have allowed or should Michael have truly needed such a contact. Jane wondered how often Barb had been unavailable to him in the past. Would he be demurely sitting in her garden at this moment, elegantly turned out in Laura Ashley fashions if his Mother had had more time for him earlier in his life? Well, he *was* in her garden. Michelle had continued to make major strides towards getting out of her skirts and on with his life again. Why that bothered her so much she could not say, but it did cause her some consternation. She had felt sad when her girls graduated in the past, but this was different, stronger. Sighing, she castigated herself for the non-productive tail chase her thoughts had devolved into. None of this was getting the letter written. With a physical and mental shake, she set her pen to paper and began the letter to Michael's Mother. Dear Barb, October 1 How are you? Hope you enjoyed your trip. By the time you actually read this, we will have to make a decision about Michael's future here and at St. Andrews. I am sending this letter now so that you will have the benefit of my current thinking when we talk at the end of this month. Everything is going well. I know this sounds cliche'd, but it is almost going too well. Don't know why I am concerned, but I am. Michelle, (pardon me, but that is how I think of your child now and I will probably mix my names and genders throughout this letter) is doing remarkably well. Amiable, mature, refined and polite. She now consistently strives toward, and achieves every goal I set for him, without complaint or demure. Just pleasant resolve. As I told you in our last phone call, I was very concerned when the boy I had planned on becoming Michelle's little sister did not materialize for us. Turns out that he went off the deep end and assaulted a security officer at the temporary juvenile lockup facility he was being held at while awaiting his preliminary hearing. The original plan was for the judge scheduled to hear the case (another of our sorority sisters) was going to offer him the choice of spending the rest of his minority at reform school or coming to me. After his attack on the guard, the state's attorney has decided to try the boy as an adult. He will be a guest of the state for the next few years. Frankly, I do not need that type of violence in my home but I was saddened for Michelle's sake. However, her recent progress has been unprecedented in my experience - I have released charges who had shown less progress than he has in these past weeks. And yet, it has been so fast. I would like to believe that his final 'tete ? tete' with his big 'sister' before he left us in August is at the heart of this maturing, I am still wary. Something has happened. Something that I did not cause and that is outside of my not inconsiderable experience in these matters. I believe that a major part of his sudden development is his flowering romance with the girl I told you about after the dramatic production last month. You remember her? Karen Austin? She is a lovely girl with a very strong will and personality - reminds me of us when we were in school together. Very smart, very together and Michael adores her. I have been permitting them to date occasionally and to spend some time alone together on most weekends. Michael is permitted to do his courting in male dress, although he still cannot undo all of the little feminine touches I insist upon when he is home. And if his eyebrow lines are a little under-done the morning of a date, I don't mention it as long as he is following the other rules. I think the fear that I might "ruin" a date of his, or force him into some feminine fripperies when calling on Karen acts both as a spur and as a deterrent to our little girl-boy. He must really enjoy spending time with Karen because our little Michelle comes back from these encounters even more determined to excel in her feminine studies and deportment. I went out with them two weekends ago to spend the afternoon at the historic Plymouth Plantation. Karen's Grandmother was supposed to come with us but had to cancel out due to the heat. She is quite elderly and not very strong. Karen almost canceled out to be with her, but in the end, Michael and her Nana prevailed on the girl to come along. In any case, I was very pleased with Michael's behavior that day. Even without the constraints imposed on him as Michelle, he was a gentleman throughout. He did not even take umbrage when Karen teased him about how he would look in early colonial dress - women's colonial dress that is. I think Karen was amazed at how well Michael carried off his role of Alice and is not above gently needling him about it at times. Michael merely smiled with benign dignity and gave her a hug. No blushes, no stammered denials, just simple acceptance of her little joke. If I did not know him better, I would have sworn he even enjoyed the exchange with her. Now that I think about it, that may be the largest part of my misgiving about his emotional and mental state just now. With Karen, the Michael I saw is a confident young man, secure in his masculinity and in the regard of the young woman he was with, yet softer and more sensitive in his approach to her and to his surroundings. As I said, truly a gentle man in every sense of the term. And yet, when she is at home with me, dressed in her skirts and camisoles, Michelle comes across as the epitome of genteel young womanhood. Faultless manners, impeccable grooming and appropriate cosmetics combined with a demure and smilingly pleasant disposition. The latter I can accept because nothing less would be accepted and she knows that, but he seems to have jumped an entire phase of my learning process and that has me concerned. Normally, the experienced boy more clearly perceives the benefits derived by his "little sister" when he watches over her as she begins to change during the admittedly harsh days of initial petticoated humiliation. And yet, he has somehow become almost completely comfortable with his femininely-gentled masculinity. If this is an act, it is the best I have ever seen in all my days of petticoating adolescent males. If he is faking this, I don't know what I can do, short of completely exposing him as a sissy, to get his attention back. And I can't do that - the potential harm to both of us is simply too great. Ah, I don't know. Maybe I have grown too comfortable with my time proven process of character reconstruction. Maybe I have become a creature of habit who wants things to go my way all the time. On the positive side, to give you an idea how comfortable Michelle is becoming with me, last week she played a prank on me worthy of a sorority sister. She slipped into my room one afternoon while I was out and replaced my cosmetics with some of the long lasting ones I used on her early on. Little minx knew I was going on a date that night and that I would be dolling up. Yes, I still use a heavy hand with the eye makeup when I am on the prowl, dear, and who taught me how, hmmmm? Well, I spent the next four days in full war paint until it finally wore off. Of course, Michelle spent those four days and a couple more in her little girl clothes playing with her dolls as punishment, but even that indignity was accepted with grace and good humor. The little stinker even teased me, in a sweetly feminine way of course, about my "high color". I almost choked trying not to laugh out loud because she did it so perfectly. You know, I could almost get used to having her around all the time if this is the way she is going to behave from now on. The other good report I have for you is that since it is now the school year again, I, as School Mistress, have instituted home learning lessons. Dear? I think that much of Michelle's problem at St. Andrew's was simple boredom. That child is so smart it is scary, and I don't believe she has ever been properly challenged in the classroom in her life. She has been using that nearly photographic memory of hers to regurgitate the teachers' own opinions back at them. Well, I will challenge our little miss, although that will pose quite a challenge for me, as well. Our lessons, of course, have a decidedly feminine bent to them. Besides the obvious (Michelle is turning into a superb cook), we have plunged headlong into some very unique academic investigations. Geometry led us to building our own embroidery patterns, which in the normal course of learning led us to the study of blood chemistry. Getting bloodstains out of white embroidery linen is so difficult, isn't it, but it is better than having to start our sampler over again each time we stick our fingers with the needle. Our history project for the semester involves discovering the forgotten women of the past. I was surprised at the fervor Michelle showed for this effort and became suspicious that it might have been the opportunity to go to the library dressed as Michael and not interest in the project that prompted his dedication. However, Michelle continued the library research after I ordered no more boy clothes at the library. I am not a historian, but I think what she is developing may be suitable for publication. In any case, Michael will be far ahead of his contemporaries when he returns to St. A's after the New Year. As I write these thoughts out for you, I have reached the conclusion that you can plan on that eventuality now, my dear. Whatever my misgivings, I think Michael will have earned his trousers by then. Well, I have to go and get this in the mail. With Love, Jane Jane stuffed and stamped the envelope and sat back in her favorite chair in the study. Outside her window, she saw Michelle, dressed in the soft sweater and skirt set she and Marie had just purchased for her. She was reading something very intently under a shady tree in the garden. Another psychology book, probably. Know thy enemy? Jane wondered if she was still the enemy. Maybe it was "know thyself", instead. Sighing resignedly, Jane reached for the calculus textbook that a professor friend had recommended as a good review text. Keeping two steps in front of her young miss, academically, was not nearly as much fun as planning her sissy's next little embarrassment. Then she glanced again at the look of fierce interest and concentration on Michelle's lovely face. It might not be as much fun, but it was certainly satisfying in another, deeply personal way. Michael sighed and put down the book he had been trying to read for the last fifteen minutes. It could not compete with his contemplation of this evening's date with Karen. He would go upstairs and find the male outer wear Jane permitted him for dating, then take the bus over to Karen's Nana's house where he'd change back into Michelle for Karen. The irony of that double switch, and the fact that Jane did not know of his double-double life amused Michael greatly. Here Jane was making this huge concession, letting him be a boy again for his girl, and he would change back to a girl for his girl friend. He chuckled softly at the image of Jane finding out. Karen had threatened him with something she called a "chick-flick" for tonight's entertainment, whatever that meant. Going out dressed didn't frighten him when Karen there with him. She helped him, encouraged him, praised him and generally kept him out of trouble. She would not expose him to the humiliation and ridicule of being discovered as a boy beneath his skirts as he had once believed Jane would have done. Besides, outings like the one she had planned made Karen very happy. And very horny, he thought. The unfeminine grin curling his mouth was completely at odds with his perfectly made up face. Later, they would return to her place for more of Karen's lessons in the arts of dancing and lovemaking. Making love to Karen, or having Karen make love to him was about the most affirming things he had ever experienced. His groin tightened in response to the deliciously sensual thoughts and he groaned as his tight satin panties painfully restrained his growing erection. Michael realized, even if Aunt Jane did not, that it was Karen's acceptance of his feminine side that gave him the confidence he now wore along with his male clothes. Karen liked *him*, enjoyed being with *him*! That made everything else easy to bear. Heck, Karen enjoyed her 'girl friend' so much, he'd taken to working even harder to perfect those little skills and habits. Her pleasure was a much stronger motivator than his own self interest or Jane's increasingly hollow threats. He was even starting to like Jane, although he had been as yet unable to express that. Surprisingly, he'd been disappointed when his "David" had not shown up. That was just as well, though. He could spend more time with Karen. Sighing softly, he picked up his book, brushing off his skirt as he stood. It was hot and he was thirsty. He strolled toward the house and saw Jane talking on the telephone through the window in her study. Maybe she would like a cold drink, too. He was moving toward her study door when it crashed open. Jane was frowning and looking very concerned about something. "Michelle, Karen is on the phone for you and she sounds very upset. She won't calm down long enough to tell me what is wrong." Michael broke into as fast a run as he could manage in his calf length skirt and heels. Snatching up the phone, he forgot himself momentarily and used his Michelle voice. "Karen, what is it?" "Michael? Is that you?" Her voice was breaking on every syllable and he could feel her misery. Michael deepened his voice and replied, "Yes, luv, it is me. What is wrong?" "Oh god, Michael, Nana collapsed," racking sobs broke from the girl and she struggled to regain control. Words came out in a rush as she tried to talk faster than her tears. "and I could not get her to wake up. I called 911 and they just took her away. I begged and begged, but they wouldn't let me go with her. I am too upset to drive. Michael... What if she DIES???" Michael cut in with sharply commanding tone that brought Jane's head up in surprise. She did not think he could speak that way. "Karen. Where are you?" "Home, Michael. I am home." came the weepy, near hysterical reply. "We will be there in fifteen minutes. Hang on, luv." Michael hung up the phone and turned to Jane. "You heard?" She nodded. The girl's voice had been loud enough to carry the short distance to Jane. "Let's go. She needs me." He turned and headed purposefully toward the door. Jane caught up with him at the main entrance hall and put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Michelle.... MICHAEL!" He turned to her, an impatient glare on his face. "Michael. Look at yourself. You can't go dressed like that. You have to change, first." Michael looked at himself with a critical eye in the hall mirror and shrugged. He ran up to his room and came down seconds later, still outfitted as a girl, but carrying his matching purse. At Jane's disbelieving splutter, he smiled grimly. "This will have to do." as he headed again for the door. Jane, however was still concerned for his security and well being, and stopped him again. She saw his determination to go to Karen. "Are you sure you can pull this off? In all likelihood, we will be going to the hospital." "I have to do it this way, Jane.. For two reasons. One, there isn't time - Karen needs me and she needs me now." Jane nodded, recognizing the depth of his feelings for this girl. "And the other reason, Michelle?" She asked softly as they hurried to the Lincoln. "Nana only knows Michelle." He said softly. "She has never met Michael and does not know that I exist as anyone other than her granddaughter's special girl friend." Jane was floored and wanted to ask a thousand questions, but Michael was already buckling himself into the passenger seat of the car. Jane promised herself that she would follow up on these revelations after the crisis had passed. The trip to Karen's house was passed mostly in silence. Not because Jane wanted that way, but because as soon as they were on the road, Michael pulled down the window visor lighted makeup mirror and began repairing Michelle's face with cosmetics from her purse. Once that was done (and done very well, from what Jane could see out of the corner of her eye), Michael lapsed into a sober meditative mood that she interpreted as his way of dealing with the enormity this action. Never had one of her charges willingly exposed himself to an outsider as a girl boy, before. Jane felt a deep pride in her charge's willingness to make this sacrifice for a friend. Or was it a sacrifice? What had Michelle said? Nana only knew Michelle? And Jane knew that Michael spent much of his free time with Karen at the grandmother's house. The grandmother spoke with a French accent. When Jane had called her to discuss Michael's visits, she had thought nothing of the name the woman saying "Michelle". Jane had thought she meant "Michel", the French translation of Michael. The imp had been voluntarily dressing outside her house. For Karen, obviously. No wonder he had changed so much so fast. Another thought struck her. Had the pair been sexually active? She shook her head at the absurdity of that question. Michelle had spent the night the night of that date sleeping over at Karen's. Michelle had said that Nana only knew Michelle, so it had been as a girl that her charge had spent the night. And girls on a sleep over share the same room. Yes, they had been sexually active and if Michael's male confidence was any indication, they had done it quite well. It also explained why Michael had not bridled at Karen's teasing about girl clothes at Plymouth. Contraception? Lord, she hoped so. They pulled into Nana's drive and a frantic Karen ran down to meet them. Michelle jumped out of the car before it was fully stopped and meet her halfway. Her ward pulled the distraught girl into a comforting hug that was at once masculinely protective and possessive, and femininely gentle and caring. Michelle held her until she had calmed enough to talk to him a bit and then the pair moved quickly to the still running car. Both young people got into the back seat and Michelle told Jane what hospital Nana had been taken to for treatment. Michael rummaged in his purse and pulled out a hankie which he gave to Karen. Shock showed on her face as she finally realized how he was dressed. Dazed, she blurted, "Michael, you're Michelle!" Strangely, that broke the tension a little and both Jane and Michelle laughed softly. "You don't know the half of it, Karen dear." Jane said. That made Michelle smile again. "True, Aunt Jane." He turned back to Karen. "Look, luv. There is a lot you don't know, but I promise to tell you the whole of it later, okay? For now, though, I think you and Nana need Michelle more than you need Michael." Karen looked at the beautifully feminine face that had become so fascinating to her in the past weeks and saw the caring. Nodding, she cuddled closer to her boy/girl friend and let herself be held in silence for the remainder of the trip. The hospital emergency room was what all hospital emergency rooms are: semi-organized chaos. The two teens were completely ignored by the busy medical staff and Jane saw that Karen was about to dissolve into tears again and Michelle was about to explode. She intervened to prevent both. Jane was not ignored and in short order, the attending physician bustled up to tell them what had happened. The news was positive. Karen's quick action and the fast response of the EMT's had saved Nana. She was weak, and she was in Intensive Care, but the doctor was optimistic about her chances. Karen almost swooned in relief. She would not be able to go home for a while, but she was awake and alert. The two youngsters sat down in the waiting room to wait for permission to visit Nana. Jane sat across from them, letting Michelle provide what comfort she could. It was then she noticed the surreptitious glances Michelle was giving someone at the admittance desk. Curious, she looked to see what was bothering her. A nurse was pointedly staring at the pair and Michelle had noticed. After closer inspection, she smiled. She knew that nurse, and she knew why the woman was staring. A month ago, perhaps even a week ago, she would have let Michelle stew, worrying about the woman's marked interest in her. However, Michelle had been behaving impeccably, and moreover, had done something she felt merited a reward. Standing, she strolled over to Michelle and sat beside her. She moved her lips to his ear. "Relax, dear. She is staring because she knows me, not because she has figured out you are not a real girl. She is a friend who helps take care of my little girls when they get sick. She knows what I do to my little boys and she is trying to figure out if you or Karen or both of you are one of my petticoated boys, but she is the soul of discretion. Just take it easy." Michelle gave her a wobbly smile, took a deep breath and began to relax. An administrator came up and inquired about their connection with Nana. When informed that Karen was her granddaughter and the girl's guardian while her father remained overseas, he frowned. "Well, your grandmother can't go home for several days at least. I am afraid we will have to call Protective Services to come take care of you." He walked away before anyone could say anything. Karen went very still. "Oh god, what will they do with me?" Then she realized what the options available to that agency and nearly panicked. "No! Not a foster family. I can't take that on top of all this. Being a stranger and alone. Why can't I just stay home? I am seventeen. I can drive." Michael tried to comfort her, pulling her even closer. He looked at Jane, his artfully made up eyes becoming wide and beseeching. "Aunt Jane, couldn't Karen stay with us?" His voice broke into a sob of his own and he swallowed to regain his own composure. "Please?" "Well, they are calling Protective Services. That may take it out of our hands." She stopped, considering how Michelle would react. "I do have some contacts there. I might be able to work something out if we catch them early enough." Michelle smiled at her. "Please, Aunt Jane." She nodded. "All right, Michelle. I will go make a phone call and see what I can do. One thing, however." Her tone was sharply commanding before she once again whispered into her charge's ear so that Karen would not hear her words. "If we do this - if Karen comes to live with us, even for a short while, it won't change your situation around home, Michelle. Are you prepared to be Michelle with her around?" Michael smiled wanly at her. "As you have probably guessed, Aunt Jane, I usually am Michelle with her, anyway. Now she will merely learn why I am so good at being a girl." Jane smiled at this, and after giving Michelle a kiss on the cheek, bustled off to find a phone. She was determined to have Karen in her home. Part 2: Autumn Colors and Other Surprises Dear Barb, October 20 Things have changed greatly since my last letter to you, and as you are still not available to me by phone, I have decided to send you this note. Karen Austin, the girl I told you about, is now living in my home with Michelle and me. I won't go into the particulars, but three weeks ago, the girl's grandmother had a heart attack and a stroke. Michelle asked me to take the girl in and I did, bending some bureaucratic arms in the process. Subsequently, it was determined that she would need full time care in a nursing home and could not go back home to supervise Karen. The woman is alert, just weak. One thing led to another (your child is a steamroller when he really cares about something, Barb), and Nana prevailed on the girl's father (who is too important and too busy to come home and care for his mother and daughter) to appoint me as Karen's guardian during the grandmother's convalescence. Since a full recovery is unlikely, although more likely than the father coming home, this means I will remain Karen's guardian until she reaches her majority. You might be surprised to hear that I don't mind a bit. It turns out that Michael had already shared Michelle with this young woman, and that Karen was even more instrumental in your son's rapid improvement than I had first guessed. She now knows everything, and although she was shocked (to say the least) to find out how Michelle lives, she recovered quickly. Now she functions as Michelle's big sister while he is home and petticoated, and as his girl friend and confidant while they are together outside the house. She agreed to this the night we discussed making the guardianship arrangement permanent. We did have one little blow up. She "tattled" on Michelle last week. Seems Michelle had been less than politic in one of her exchanges with her "big sister". An upset Karen decided to use me to get back at Michelle. That was fine with me, because I had one last little test I wanted to try on our little girl boy. I told her that, since Karen's school was holding a Sadie Hawkins Day Dance (Karen had already asked Michael), I wanted Michelle (NOT Michael) to find a date so that she and her sister could double date. Karen would still protect Michelle, but the little dear would be in a muck sweat from then until he was safely inside my door again after the dance. I even wondered aloud if Michelle would get her first boy-girl kiss. Karen's response was completely unexpected. She exploded. "He's MINE!" she screamed at me. "Pants or skirts or whatever. I WON'T be a party to that. I won't let HIM be a party to that." Well, I was taken aback. But what really shocked me was Michelle. She told Karen to calm down, that it was okay. Karen whirled furiously on him, "What is this? Do you want to go out with a boy?" Michael calmly told her that no, he did not. The only person he wanted to go out with was her, but recalled that when I had agreed to take her in, he had promised to obey me and to try to trust me. He said he would do it, but would feel better if she would go, too, so he would not be alone with a boy like that. That stopped me. To my knowledge, that was the first time Michelle had exhibited that type of faith in me. Of course, I relented. She still got punished, but he went to the dance as a boy - but with a new, salon styled, big hair permanent and with frosted highlights. Sandy outdid herself this time. Even there, Karen was one step ahead of me. She had a straw farmer's hat for her hillbilly to wear over his frosted curls. For all that, I have little more to teach Michael. He is everything I hoped he could become when I took on his case. I will keep him in skirts a while longer, because I like him that way. Selfish, I know, but Karen likes it, too, and what Karen likes, pleases your son. He wouldn't mind much, even if he had a choice in the matter. What I propose is that you plan to spend Thanksgiving here. You could have dinner with us, and see the lovely young woman your daughter might have been. You will see the fine young man your son has become. You might also want to take a look at the woman I have every expectation will become your daughter in law. I think a graduation party where Michelle gets her trousers back, full time, would be nice. Of course, I will keep this a secret from Michelle, although I may need to include Karen in on the planning. Please call me as soon as you have read this and my earlier letter to you. Now, I must leave. The girls are going into town to check out costumes for a Halloween Ball at the local country club. I have decided to permit Michael to dress as he pleases. The pair of them have been brainstorming ever since I told him that. They seem determined to keep their plans a great secret - especially from me. I will make sure I have fresh film in the camera. Sincerely yours Jane Jane frowned as she reread the letter she had just finished. She had wanted to be far more blunt and order her school chum to attend, but she hadn't. Good manners combined with her growing fear that the problem might worsen helped her to hold her tongue. She was becoming more and more fond of Michelle with each passing day. One of the things she realized was that not once in Michelle's sojourn in her home had Barb initiated any contact with her about her son. Jane had made all the calls, written all the letters. Not once had Barb even asked if she could speak to her son. Of course, Jane had told her, early on in the project, that she strongly recommended against such contact, except for real emergencies. Still, most of her other boys' mothers had conveniently forgotten that request at least one time during their little darlings' sojourns under her supervision. Frustrated, she readied the letter for posting. Her two charges wanted to go into town looking for costume ideas. Then, a thought struck Jane. If Michelle was going to the party as Michael, why not let them make an outing of it, just the two of them. It would let them connive in secret, and she could do some more work on the planning for her next new charge. Not having a resident big sister was going to make this one difficult. Besides, Michelle had not driven since her arrival, and would enjoy the treat. She would give them the good news at lunch. It was a tossup who was more flabbergasted - Michael at Jane's offer, or Jane at Michael's response. "But, Jane, I had planned on going to town as Michelle, so I can't drive. My license shows me as a male. I don't plan on speeding," he hastened to add as her eyebrow shot up, "but it would still be too big a risk in the event someone else caused an accident." "But, Michelle, I said you could go to the party as you wished. I fully expected you would need to find a costume suitable to your character's gender." Michelle smiled softly. "Yes, Aunt Jane, but it is just that I thought that, since I still had to stay in character here, I would look for a costume that let me do that while not getting me in trouble here for unfeminine behavior. I thought I would talk to Sandy and Carolyn about how best to do that without ruining all their efforts." Michelle paused, remembering another time Jane had "permitted" him to dress as a male. "That is, if you don't mind me seeking their assistance in this. I know last time you told me I had to do the transforming all by myself." Still off balance, Jane shook her head. "No... No, that's fine, Michelle. That was to serve a purpose. This is in the way of a real reward for real effort. In fact, I will call Carolyn right after lunch and tell her to go along with whatever you ask. I will also tell you that whatever they do can be undone after the party if that is what it ultimately takes for you to pull off whatever it is you have in mind. You have earned this, Michelle. I really am quite proud of you." Michelle went completely still. Surprise, then pleasure, and finally pride flashed across her face. Karen simply sat there, beaming at her sister/boy friend. Suddenly, Michelle stood up. "Please excuse me, Aunt Jane" he blurted out in a choking voice, and then ran from the room. Jane rose, intending to follow, but Karen stopped her. "She'll be okay, Jane. Let her be. He is just so happy, and for all your efforts, Michael is still learning to cope with the softer feelings you have introduced him to. He is embarrassed that his joy reduced him to tears in front of you. He'll be back when he has regained control and repaired his face. You should be pleased. He is becoming quite the lady." Jane looked at Karen with a sardonically raised brow. "Oh? Perhaps, too much the lady, Karen?" Jane was aware that her charges were still intimate. And had been concerned about repercussions until she had ascertained that Karen and Michael were being careful to use contraception after that first night together. Karen gave her guardian a thoroughly female look of pure pleasure. "No, Jane, Michael is all man when it counts - just more caring and sensitive than other boys of my experience." The pair shared a look of smug satisfaction. Michelle returned apologetically to the table, but Jane waved them off, hiding her own emotions under a facade of firmness. "Now, since Michelle can't drive, I will give Karen the keys to the Lincoln. It has more space than her little car, and you might find something today and need the room. Now go get ready. Go on, shoo!" Both teens laughed and jumped to their feet to leave, but Michelle had one more shock for Jane this day. Before leaving the room, she shyly came over and kissed Jane on the cheek. "Thank you, Aunt Jane." she whispered, before once again rushing headlong out the room, leaving a thoroughly bemused Jane behind. Karen drove the big car with more caution than she normally used with her zippy little Honda. Once they were on the road towards Kingston, she relaxed enough to talk. "You okay with this trip? I know that this has not been a fun place for you. Seems like all of Jane's feminizer cronies are in that town. They may not be able to resist taking a piece out of you." Michelle nodded. "It will be okay. I have learned a lot lately. Mostly, they just want to play with me. When I give as good as I get, they just have fun. Besides, they have more to lose than I do. This is area is pretty conservative. Their businesses could suffer badly if it became known what they were doing with Jane." Karen nodded at the insight. "You don't mind going dressed? I mean, this was a perfect opportunity to be a guy, again. Jane even gave you the go ahead for Carolyn and Sandra to put you back together after the ball. You could have spent a whole week looking like your studly self instead of living in skirts." "Naw. Besides, are you going to leave me?" The large car swerved violently as Karen jerked the steering wheel in surprised shock. "Hell, no! I told her and I will tell you, Michael Nash. You are mine! The formalities are just that - mere formalities. You are mine and I am yours. You are stuck with me, Miss or Mister. End of statement." Pleased by her response, Michael chuckled. "I love you, too, darling. So, getting out of skirts is not an issue with me, anymore. You like them. I expect I will be wearing them on and off the rest of my life because pleasing you is a big priority in my life." His voice trailed off. Karen urged him on, asking him to finish the thought. He visibly steeled himself and after taking a deep breath, whispered. "And I like them, too." "Oh, Michelle, I am so glad. Really I am. I was worried that once Jane signs off on your return to that damned school, I would never have my girl friend back again. And if you had done it for me like it was some damned sacrifice, I would have known, and I would have hated it." Unlike Michelle who was fashionably turned out in skirt and blazer set, Karen was wearing her beloved jeans. The jeans had been a minor bone of contention when Karen had moved in - Michael had asked to wear them, but Jane had refused. "Karen already knows how and when to be a lady, Michelle. You are still learning. Of course, to be fair, I could ask Karen to refrain from wearing them until you are advanced enough that I will permit you such liberties..." Michael had not liked that idea at all. First, because Karen loved wearing her jeans, and he would not want her deprived because of him. Secondly, she looked awfully sexy in those skin tight denims and he would not want himself deprived of that pleasure, either. So, Jane had relented, and Karen continued to wear her jeans for both their pleasure. Jane, being Jane, was unable to resist a few stinging jabs about "who wore the pants in this relationship..", but as long as Karen was happy and looking so sexy, Michael was able to handle those with grace and a smile. What he did not realize was that it was precisely that comfort with her games that Jane had been looking for, and had now found. Michelle reached across the seat to gently squeeze the denimed thigh, and then rested his hand there. They rode like that most of the way, until the outer limits of Kingston and the university campus came in view. At a stop light, Karen saw Michael staring wistfully at the sign proclaiming pre-registration for the spring term. He merely shook his head when she asked if something was the matter. They drove toward the business square where Marisha Chalet sat, and Karen carefully parked the car. She shutdown the engine, and turned to face her lover. "You want to go through with this? It could really destroy her, you know." "Hey, it was your idea, remember? You said it was the right thing to do, that it would bring closure. Now you are getting cold feet? For all my little bravado back there on the road, Sandy scares the hell out me. She has been a lot easier on me since August, but she knows just how to get to me, and she loves doing it. She has a way of getting me so turned on that I get rock hard, and then she cuts me to ribbons with it." Karen took his hand. "Don't worry about it, sweet. Anything she makes rock hard, I can help make nicely pliable again, and I promise you'll love it." Her voice was a husky whisper that grabbed him by the groin and twisted sensuously. "Seriously, we could do something else and still get the effect you want." Michelle considered that carefully. It was tempting. Finally, he shook his head. "No, this is the right way. She has to see me as I am, now. Not as she chooses to see me in her mind. We can't get over the past until she does." Karen smiled. That was the answer she'd wanted, but she'd needed to know he understood, too. "Okay, let's go. I saw Caro at the window looking at us. She must think that Jane is having to drag you in, again. Sandy must be getting out the frosting kit again." she said with a smirk. The patrons of the shop only noted how lovely the two young women who entered the shop were. Carolyn and Sandra came up to greet them and then ushered them into the back room. Sandy spoke first. "Well, Jane called." she said with a dejected tone in her voice. "She told us this was your show, Michael. What do you want us to do?" She looked very sad and Michael wondered why. Carolyn spoke. "We know that you are going to the Ball and that Jane said you could pick your own costume. Tell us what you have in mind and we will see what we can do. Frankly, you have become so facile an actress, you could pull off anything." Michael glanced at Karen, who nodded back. He reached into the oversize shoulder bag he carried and withdrew an 8x10 manilla envelope from it. "Before we go further, you should know that our plans are secret, especially from Jane. If you can't agree to that, we will do something else - try another salon." Determination colored his voice. Both women looked at him in disbelief. He would go to another salon, chancing discovery? Finally, Carolyn spoke. "We already knew that, Michael. Jane told us and asked that we keep your confidence. We promised her and we promise you that, too. Don't we, Sandy?" The other woman nodded. "Okay, look at this." He pulled a photo from the envelope and laid it on the table. It was a promotional picture from a famous historical movie. "We saw this and the similarity of our facial structures to these people. And I remembered the outfits you got for Beth and me for that parade float. Now, this is what we want to do...." The planning took the better part of the afternoon, what with Carolyn and Sandy having to leave periodically to work on their customers. Gradually, both women got into the spirit of the enterprise and all but took over from the two excited teenagers. Finally, Sandy was toting up what to have as they reviewed their lists one last time. "...... cosmetics, hair dye, spirit gum." she concluded. "Okay, I think that does it. While I was out on the floor the last time, I called the costume shop around the corner and told them to expect you soon. Michael, that shop is not, to my knowledge, party to Jane's activities, so be careful while you are being fitted. It might be wise to have Karen assist you instead of their people while you are changing into your costume for fitting and alteration. Oh! I almost forgot." She ran to a nearby closet and returned with a familiar box. "Here, you might need this." Michael took the box and thanked her. Carolyn smiled. "Thank you, Michael" she said emphasizing the 'you', "for letting us be a part of this. I know we made your life hell, but that was part of the plan. I'd like to think we have become less your enemies, now, and more like friends." Michael stood and gave each woman a demure kiss on the cheek. "Not like friends, Carolyn. You are friends. It just took me awhile to figure out that not all friendships start out friendly. Now, I have to go or the shop will close." "Michael? If you and Karen would like, I could visit the afternoon of the party. Help you both get ready. That dye can be messy, even if it does wash out with the special solvent soap." "If you don't mind, Caro, I think that would be wonderful." "Miiiiii-chaeeell" Karen wheedled. "Could we go? I am tired and hungry and those fittings will take an hour at least. Especially mine! I am gonna get turned into a human pin cushion. I just know it." They got home around nine pm to find that Marie had kept supper warm for their return. Jane insisted they take dinner in the study with her on trays as she quizzed them on their day. Michael was mischievously evasive on the subject of where they went and what they bought. "Oh, but I will tell you that Caro promised to come over Saturday afternoon and personally handle my makeover." Karen swatted him with a lace throw pillow. "Hey, don't forget about me. She promised she would do my make up, too." Michael put on Michelle's cattiest look, and said sweetly. "Oh, dear, that's right. Well, maybe you should call her, Auntie Jane, and see if she could be here by nine am, instead." Both women fell on him with pillows then, and Jane's formal, Victorian study became a slapstick comedy of screeching laughter, petticoats and pillow feathers. Michael could not remember having a better evening in Jane's house. The sealed garment boxes with the costumes arrived the Thursday before the party. Michelle and Karen locked themselves away in Karen's room (Jane permitted Karen the privacy of a locked door that she still chose to deny Michael), and tried on their costumes. The alterations were perfect, thus saving the teens from having to ask Marie's help or worse, from trying to fix the clothes themselves. Caro arrived in time for luncheon on Saturday. After the meal, the three conspirators adjourned to Karen's room for the grand transformation. By tacit agreement, both Marie and Jane avoided the upstairs that afternoon, afraid they would peek if they had the chance. At five thirty, Carolyn found Jane and told her that they were ready for the unveiling. Jane and Marie hurried to the parlor, both carrying cameras to record the event. Carolyn returned and took her place on the settee beside Jane. From outside the parlor, Michael's voice, a much deeper voice than Jane was used to hearing called. "Ready in there?" Jane responded tartly. "I was ready two hours ago. Now get in here." Karen's soft laugh followed. Moments later, Rhett Butler escorted Scarlet O'Hara across the threshold of the room. Scarlet was in a classic reproduction of the famous movie ball gown, its de'collete' bodice showing an expanse of creamy cleavage. Her hair had been darkened with dye and hung in sausage curls around her head. Opera length satin gloves covered her arms, and on her left cheek, beneath her twinkling eye, was a black beauty patch. With one hand in Rhett's, and the other holding her heavy skirt, Scarlet curtseyed low to her royal audience. Rhett was in black evening wear, complete with tails and a cane. His hair had also been dyed black, while his skin had been artfully darkened and coarsened by Caro's cosmetic artistry. His brows, and upper lip were covered by hair that had not been there at lunch. False brows and mustache, to be sure, but it was a very, very good job. His hands were covered by formal white gloves and gleaming boots adorned his feet. Bowing low to the women, he 'made his leg' with the grace of a Regency Corinthian. "My God, Caro.... it is like they stepped off the movie screen into my house." She looked more closely at the boy she had worked so hard to make into a girl, and shook her head in confusion. Scarlet giggled, and Jane's head came up in shock. "Now, you blew it." was Karen's disgusted comment. "We would have made it out of here without her knowing if you could have kept your mouth shut." "Naow, Rhett-dawlin'," said Scarlet in a terrible Southern accent and in Michael's voice, "Ya'll know I was gonna tell her lil' ol' self befo' we left, anyway." Jane could not seem to get her mouth to work - it just hung open. Caro was having spasms, trying to keep from laughing out loud. Marie was stunned. Finally, Jane choked out, "Michael? I mean, Michelle, is that you?" Michael came over to kneel in front of Jane in a swirl of silks and satin. "Yes, Jane." came the soft, incongruously male voice in reply. "It is me." "But, why? You could have been anyone - anything. Why a female?" Michael's answering smile was beautiful to see. "Because, dear Jane, this *is* me, now. Or at least, a part of me. You see, two ladies that I have come to care about, like this in me. More importantly, I have come to like it, too. I am still a man,.." he stopped to consider that and shook his head, sending the sausage curls bouncing saucily about his face, "No, I am more of a man, because none of this..." and he swept a hand over the female finery, "threatens me anymore. It is part of me, and I have come to like me quite a bit in the past weeks. I wanted you to know that, Jane." With a muffled "oh, god", Jane wrapped her arms around her charge and clung tightly, tears rolling down her cheeks. Then, she jumped to her feet and ran from the room. Michael made to follow her, but Marie stopped him. She was also crying, but smiling. "I will see to her, Michael. She will be fine. You and your young lady just go and have fun." Caro repaired the damage to everyone's makeup, and then took pictures with both forgotten cameras. Finally, she ushered them out the door, and went to find Jane. She thought a good drunk and a happy crying jag were definitely in order. Jane had to have some good bubbly in this house somewhere. She would just have to find it. No one got up for breakfast the next day. Michelle, seeing the problem, mixed up a "hair of the dog" favored by one of his mother's consorts, and served tall frosty restoratives to each hangover victim. A few hours later, when hunger set in, Michelle made omelets and muffins to fill empty stomachs. When his own (the last, naturally) was done and he came to sit at the table, Karen was regaling the women with a recount of their exploits. "You remember Page, don't you, Jane? The boy who made Michael's life hell at the play? He was there as a pirate, and he was so enamored of little Miss Scarlet. He even prevailed on her to dance. God, I was afraid he would drool the makeup off the fake boobs Sandy gave her. Strange thing, though, his pants fell down, and he wasn't wearing any undies. He was quite the spectacle, hopping off the dance floor, trying to hold up his pants with one hand, and keep his dickie covered with the other." Karen looked up to Michael as he set his plate down and settled into his chair. "However did that happen, Michelle, dear?" she asked in the sweetest, most innocent of tones. Michelle gave an entirely unladylike snort. "He should not have been carrying a real knife on that stupid belt of his. Knives are dangerous." was all Michael had to say for the ladies to howl with mirth. With a satisfied smile, Michael continued, "My only regret is that he went home afterwards and missed the unmasking. Karen and I won first prize for best costume by a couple. I would have loved to see his face when he realized that he had been hitting on a guy. I do hope someone tells him." Then a thought struck Michael and he looked slyly at Jane. "Aunt Jane? There isn't any chance that Page has gotten in trouble around here? You know, you might talk to his mom, offer to help her with him a little..." Jane spluttered. "Oh, no. None of that. I don't take students from the immediate area. They are too likely to be recognized, no matter how well I do my job. Besides, his father is an arrogant paternalistic idiot and he would never agree, more's the pity." "Too bad. I would even stay on past Christmas to help with that scene, and I would not feel a whit of guilt about it like Beth did with me." The offhanded reminder of his approaching departure cast a pall on the impromptu brunch and it broke up shortly thereafter. Caro had to leave for home, Jane went to her study, closing the door and Marie gathered the dishes to clean. The two young people decided to go for a walk. Things settled back into the familiar routine for Jane's household. Studies and school consumed much of Michael's and Karen's time. Both took the College board exams the week after the ball. Michael went back the next week for further testing, saying only that he was working on several options when it came to college and that the tests were a part of that. About two weeks before Thanksgiving, Karen heard shouting coming from Jane's study. Concerned that her lover had gotten in trouble again with her mercurial guardian, she peaked in through the open door in time to see Jane slamming her antique phone down onto its cradle. "DAMN that woman! HOW can she DO that to him?" Jane put her head down on her desk, looking utterly desolate. Karen crept in, and put her hand on Jane's head. "Jane? What is the matter?" When Jane mumbled that it was nothing, Karen disagreed. "No, I have never seen you upset over 'nothing' and you are upset. Now give." "Oh, it is nothing, really. Nothing I can fix, anyway. That was Barbara - Michelle's mother. She was answering my last two letters." Jane went on to explain her plan for a surprise graduation party for Michael. "She just called to tell me she was going on another vacation with her newest new boyfriend. Seems they will be making a holiday tour of the Caribbean. They leave tomorrow and won't be back until after New Year's. As to Michael's future at St. A's, I am to "do what ever you think best, darling. You seem to do so much better with him than I do." Damned woman. To do anything you first have to try enough to care and care enough to try. When I think of the waste of a fine human being she almost caused with that type of neglect, I want to do bodily damage to her." Karen moved behind Jane, massaging the stress out of her shoulders. "Well, you care, Jane, and so do I. Matter of fact, there are a lot of folks here who care about our Michael-Michelle, so that is all that matters. If she does not know what she has in him, it is her loss and our gain." she kept on stroking. "He is special to you, too. Isn't he, Jane." Jane had long since ceased being amazed at this girl's empathy and grasp of human feelings. She merely nodded. "Yes, he is. I have never had a bond with one of my pupils like this before. It is almost as if he was my own. As if he were my son." She laughed a harsh, derisive laugh. "Funny, isn't it. I love him like a son, and I haven't figured out how to show it." "He knows, Jane. No boy I know does what he did for you at Halloween without loving the person he is doing it for. He knew it could have backfired on him at the party, big time, and he still went through with it because you had given him the choice." Karen became silent. "You know, we really don't need his mother. I think your whole circle of friends would love to give Michelle a proper sendoff. What do you think of this idea..." And with that, the two women began to plan. Part 3: Restorations and Revelations The quiet was eerie. It was a little after eight on the Sunday morning after Thanksgiving, and Jane was completely alone in the house. Marie had left Wednesday to spend the holiday with family in Boston. She would return shortly to help with the final party preparations. Karen and Michelle had gone to Providence for the morning. That was part of the plan she and Jane had hatched to get Michelle out of the house long enough to finish the final touches for the day's festivities. Karen had asked Michelle to go to Church with her for the celebration of the first Sunday of the Christmas Advent Festivities. Michelle had initially been reticent, not wanting to go into Church "wearing a lie". Jane had held back during the exchange, knowing she could have easily have forced his acquiescence, but not wanting to. Fortunately, Karen was well in command of the situation, as she had seemed to have been with so many others. "Is it a lie, Michelle, dear? Really?" Michelle seemed to waiver, and Karen had moved in. "It is not like you are going to take the veil, luv. You are just going to sit in the pew, listening to beautiful music, looking lovely." Michelle had blushed beautifully, and finally had given in. So early this morning, the pair had dressed in their new holiday finery, and headed off to Providence in Karen's Honda. Jane could not really remember the last time the house had seemed this empty - probably because since she had purchased it, the house had not been empty. She had taken on her first petticoating project within mere weeks of moving in, and had always had at least one skirted boy underfoot since. And now, she was losing this one without a sure replacement in hand. The mother of the boy she was to take on was uncertain she wanted to inflict Jane's "torments" (the Mother's words) on her misunderstood son. If that one fell through, as had the last, Jane would have only Karen once Michael headed back to St. A's. Of course, that was not insignificant. Karen had become very important to Jane in the short time they had been together. Jane had all but forgotten the simple pleasures of sharing things with another true female. As competent as her sissy-boys became at acting like young women, and as much as many of them came to enjoy their feminized states, Karen shared things with Jane that her boys could not. Case in point was the shopping trip they had taken to buy the clothes she and Michelle had worn today. It had been fun, and in an entirely different way than when she went shopping with her "girls". When Jane took the boys shopping, she enjoyed their fear of being unmasked, and the little humiliations her friends heaped on their curly heads. But there was that slight chance that something might go wrong, that the boy might be uncovered by someone who was not in on the conspiracy. So Jane had to be constantly alert in those situations and that detracted from her pleasure in the activities. With Karen, there had been none of that tension. She had actually been able to enjoy the experience of shopping. She had been able to enjoy and share Karen's pleasure in finding pretty things for herself and for Michelle. It had been...... nice. The real problem, Jane was forced to admit, was that she was already missing Michelle. She had never before let a boy stay after his rehabilitation was complete. They left her immediately to get on with their lives. She was usually a little sad to see them go, and missed them for awhile, but was soon diverted by the next little test or task she had planned for her latest "girl". This was very different. "You might as well admit it, Jane Thompson." she spoke angrily into the silent room. "You admitted to Karen that you loved Michael Nash as the son you never had, but the real truth is that you love him best as Michelle. And you have no right to keep Michelle at Michael's expense anymore." She savagely swiped at the tears that had welled up in her eyes, infuriated with herself that she could not be happy for Michael's sake that today ..... that today was his last day in skirts. Well, probably not his last day. Karen liked Michelle, too, and Michael had as much as told her that he accepted Michelle when he had elected to be Scarlet instead of Rhett. But she would no longer see Michelle every day, nor, in fact, should she. Michael would need the next month to reestablish enough of his male mannerisms to survive the last term at St. Andrews. The door bell's ring broke her reveries. That must be the first of the guests, arriving to help with the final party setups. Good. Jane was tired of feeling alone and lonely. The Honda pulled onto the estate around two pm. Much to Jane's amazement, everything was ready. The two young people entered to the foyer smiling, and looking to see where Jane might be. Jane opened the door to her study, a stern look on her face. Sharply, she ordered. "Michelle? I want to see you in my study. NOW, young lady, this very INSTANT!" Michael's face fell dramatically. What HAD he done? He had tried so hard the past few weeks - not on the feminine things, but to show Jane how much he had come to care for and about her; to show that he actually loved her. He had even permitted himself to believe that she cared for him, too. Now he must have done something to upset her, but he could not imagine what it was. Would this mean she would have to delay his planned departure for St. A's? Jane turned and reentered the study, her back stiff and straight. It was the way she had been those first, horrible weeks. Sighing inwardly, Michael turned to follow her, consciously thinking about his presentation for the first time in weeks. He did not realize that Karen was following close behind him until her white gloved hands came up to cover his eyes just before he reached the study threshold. Michael faltered with the loss of vision, but Karen prodded him on into the room before he could stop or free his eyes. "SUUURRRRPPPRRIIIIZZZEEE!" The combined yell of several female voices caused the blinded boy to jump backwards into Karen, almost tripping them. Karen's hands came away as she struggled to catch them both. Once he regained balance, stupefied wonder rendered him speechless and motionless. The study looked like a New Year's Eve Party gone wild. Brightly colored pink and blue crepe paper festooned the room and a banner that proclaimed "Congratulations, Michelle - Welcome Back, Michael" hung proudly on the wall behind Jane's desk. Then Michael took in who was there. Everyone who had had a hand in his journey of self discovery. Carolyn and Sandra, Miss Franson from the dress shop and Mrs. Bedford, the nurse whose stares had unnerved him at the hospital - they were all there. And of course, in the center and out in front of everyone else, was Jane and Marie. Then, a hand tapped his shoulder and he turned to see "David?" the name was a whisper. "David, is that you?" The fondly remembered gentle smile curved the lips of the young man in front of him. He was turned out in a finely made, charcoal gray suit. Michael did not know what else to do, but hug his friend. "God, I am glad to see you. I have missed you. Karen, come and meet David.." "Ahem" That single syllable stopped him cold. He turned toward Jane who was looking at him with a cocked brow and a sardonic smile. "I believe I told you, young lady, that *I* wanted to see you." Smiling now himself, Michael went to stand in front of Jane, and then curtseyed deeply as he had the night of the Halloween Ball. Jane pulled him into a tight hug. She pulled back, and ordered "All right, everyone sing, please..." The women and David started to sing, "For he's a jolly good fellow..." Sandy put her fingers to her mouth and blew a shrill whistle, shocking everyone to silence. They turned to her in amazement. She grinned. "Can't sing that, Jane. Not yet, anyway." She pointed to a chair that had been covered with a bed sheet. A table, covered with combs, scissors and a myriad of bottles, stood beside it. Jane nodded, smiling mischievously. "Quite right, Sandra. Michelle, please sit in that chair." What followed was a complete demolition of what had taken Michael an hour that morning and over six months of learning to accomplish. Sandra moved behind the chair and started to dampen his hair with another foul smelling concoction. Carolyn stood in front of him and began working on his face. Marie and Miss Franson took a position on each side of the chair and began working on his hands and nails. It took over an hour, but finally, the ladies stepped back. Michael wanted to see what had been done, but the room's mirror was covered in crepe. Jane stepped up to him. "Michael, please go to your room and put on the clothing Marie has laid out for you." Completely ill-at-ease now, Michael slowly left the study and went up to his room. He thought he knew what to expect, but he was wrong. The changes in his femininely appointed room shocked him. It wasn't feminine anymore; it was a young man's room. The light pastel blues of the walls and moldings were still there, but every accessory had been replaced by ones more suitable to a boy's room. Every female touch, every feminine touch of lace and bit of whimsy had been ruthlessly eradicated. The bed's canopy had been removed; a brightly colored hunting lodge quilt replaced the satin bedspread. The tiered fabrics that had upholstered the various pieces of furniture had been replaced with pieces that matched the quilt. Had he felt this disoriented when he had first seen the room in its girl's room decor? New cotton briefs, socks, a dress shirt and tie, and a shoe box sat on the foot of his bed. On his dressing table, no longer a vanity, was a man's jewelry box opened to display, a new wristwat