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Transgender / Transformation stories in English
Allegretto's Change of Pace

Based upon and derived from the situations and characters
developed by Mike Allegretto and Caitlin B. in their
collaborative story, "A Change of Pace", posted 2/16/97
on ASSTG.   Written and published  with the express permission 
of the original authors.  No archiving or redistribution of
this work is permitted without this copyright attribution
included, intact and complete, in the posting/archiving. 
Archiving/publication of this author's work on any system that
requires payment in any form is prohibited by the author and
is in violation of my copyright to Chapters 7 and beyond.

The following is a work of erotic fiction.  It is
intended for the entertainment of mature, legally adult
individuals living in areas where the possession and enjoyment
of such material is legal.  If you are not legally an
adult, or if such material is not legal in your locale, then
you are violating a trust as well as the law. Please leave
now.

The first three characters of my reply to address are random as a
result of the vicious email spam I have been subjected to since I
began posting.

A Change of Direction
Chapter 15

Bronwyn sat in Laurie's library/den, wearing her own skin for
a change.  Ostensibly, she had been called over to "comfort"
her friend after Laurie had suffered a terrible "ordeal". 
Now, with the cause of that ordeal sound asleep in her bed,
the two women sitting behind closed doors, giggling like two
adolescent girls.

"You should have seen the look on his face, Laurie, right
after she socked him the first one and right before the
uppercut connected that put the little snot into dreamland. It
was positively *priceless*."  Bronwyn was all but chortling. 
"He thinks he is the greatest lover in the world and that no
girl could possibly not want his attentions.  Most of them are
just afraid of him and his cronies.  Before today, though, his
nasty little games have always stopped well short of rape so
his politician daddy has been able to keep him out of trouble. 
>From his perspective, I suppose, this was no different than
those other times.  Only this time, Jacqui disagreed with him. 
Forcefully!"

"But why did he pick on Jacqui?  I know her clothes are a
little on the daring side, but we all agreed to continue that
strategy as a tactic to get the males to pay attention to her
a little more.  I was hoping she would find one she liked
enough to encourage just a little."

"The nice ones all back way off when she hits them with "The
Look", darling.  Your daughter has very quickly mastered the
fine art of cutting a young man dead with a well placed glare. 
This one today was trying to prove his manhood by being the
one who took her down.  He has all the sensitivity of ancient
rock, so when she hit him with her whammy, he did not even
slow down.  I sensed her anxiety, fear and then her anger, and
came a running, but by the time I got there, he had her backed
into a corner of an empty classroom.  She tried to push past
him but he blocked her with his body and started running his
hands over her.  Next thing, I know, she has dropped her books
and caught him flush on the chin with a left hook and then the
upper cut.  He went down like a tree. Then, she just picked up
her books and left, calm as you could please.  His cronies
parted for her like the Red Sea. It was great."

"Well, it was not so great for me when I got the call from the
Principal to come pick up my daughter who was being suspended
for fighting."  Laurie said darkly.  "I am glad you met me
when I arrived so I was prepared with the basics of what
really happened."

Bronwyn sipped her brandy, her eyes still laughing.  "You
impressed the hell out your daughter in there, by the way. 
She was all but bubbling about how great you were when we
walked way home, afterwards.  So what really happened?  If I
believe Jacqui, you all but cut the man's heart out and fed it
to him."

"I was tempted, but it was nothing quite so dramatic.  He was
a conceited ass and all I did was trip him over his own
tongue."

Laurie's Story

The secretary kept me waiting for ten minutes before she even
called the Principal. "He's out in the halls for change of
class, you know."  Except he wasn't.  He was in his office
with Jacqui, trying to get her to confess to causing the whole
mess.  I know because I eavesdropped on Jacqui's public mind
while I was waiting.

Finally, I was ushered into the inner sanctum and this prig is
seated behind his desk trying to look wise and scholarly,
while Jacqui was sitting in this straight backed chair
wringing her hands.

"Mrs. Donovan." he said it in a very condescending tone.  "I
am afraid your daughter has been suspended for fighting and
will not be welcome back here for four days."  His smile put
my teeth on edge.  "I am sure you can help her correct the
error of her ways in that time.  We cannot permit our young
women to behave in such an unattractive manner, I am sure you
will understand."

Since I knew the whole story from meeting with Bonnie, I
decided to play along with the fatuous fool. "Oh, of course. 
I do hope the other young lady is not hurt?"

He coughed and said something I pretended not to hear, making
him repeat it again, louder this time. "It, uh, wasn't a girl. 
It was a boy."

I raised my brows in concern.  "Jacqui, are you hurt?  Did he
hit you, baby?"

Jacqui, her face twisted in disgust.  "He never laid a fist on
me, Mum.  He cornered me and was feeling me up under my
skirt."

"Under your skirt?"  I turned back to the principal.  "I
assume he is being suspended, too?"

"That is not germane to this discussion, Mrs. Donovan. 
Discipline in the school is my concern, not yours."

I stood up and leaned over his desk.  "Now you listen to me,
you sanctimonious old fool.  You weren't even going to suspend
that boy, were you?  That little punk molested my daughter in
your school.  I have been told that by two eye witnesses while
I walked to your office."

The idiot interrupted me.  "I have witnesses that say her
attack was unprovoked at the time and that her counter-
accusations are untrue.  Mrs. Donovan, if your daughter
receives, shall we say, untoward remarks, it is to be expected
when she dresses," he sniffed and looked down his nose at
Jacqui, "in a rather obvious manner."

I looked at her outfit.  The skirt was a bit short, and the
sweater she was wearing fit her very nicely, but there was
nothing out of the ordinary for a pretty teenager.  I saw red.
"Why you prudish hypocrite, her outfit is attractive, but it
is also completely in line with the dress code you sent home
on the first day of school.  Now you listen and listen well. 
My daughter has an unblemished record at this school, and I
also believe, is very well thought of by all her teachers.  If
my daughter is suspended, or if I leave here without a formal
apology from you, I will start making phone calls.  First to
my lawyer, then to the media."

"My word is final on this subject, Mrs. Donovan, and you are
being offensive.  Please leave and take your daughter with
you."  He stood to open his door.  "If you don't leave, I will
have the security officer escort you off the grounds."

I stood to leave.  "Oh, I will leave.  Enjoy dealing with you
phone calls.  Did I mention, that one of the eye witnesses was
your vice principal?"  

He stopped me before I could get out the door with Jacqui.  As
you know, Thea, the vice principal, is one of us, and although
she did not actually see it happening, she did "see" it.  She
tried to get in to talk to that fool and tell him so, but he
was too busy trying to protect that kid because of his
father's political connections.  

"Anyway," Laurie continued, "the rest was sort of
anticlimactic.  Thea came into the office with write-up on the
incident and a list of the other witnesses.  Jacqui was
cleared, the kid who did it is facing expulsion, and the ones
who lied to the principal are all being suspended."

"It was quite the big splash on the News at Six on TV."
Bronwyn commented.  "Guess you decided to call it in, anyway?"

Laurie laughed.  The principal had been filmed running to his
car, trying to escape the reporters who had gotten wind of the
"sexual harassment coverup plot" at the local high school. 
The political angle had made it particularly juicy once the
word had gotten out to the reporters just whose kid had been
the harasser.  Neither the principal nor the politician daddy
were likely to get much public support in the near future. 
"But I didn't.  Turns out it was the principal's secretary. 
Once she found out what had really happened, she'd called her
sister who happens to work at the city desk of the daily
paper.  It just took off from there."

"Well, at least it all worked out, and you made a lot of
points with Jacqui, today.  Besides, as you are well aware,
her growth in the power follows the growth of her own self
awareness as a woman.  Today she became very aware of two
critical factors.  One is the potential vulnerability of being
female, and two, that you would come running to her rescue and
not doubt her story for even a minute"

"As if I would." she snorted.  "But I lost ground, too.  She
has demanded that we going shopping for jeans.  She told me
she has spent almost six months in skirts and she wants pants
that aren't so tight she has to lay down on the floor to put
on.  She was doing so well in the skirts, and now this."

"Don't see how you can say no to her, Laurel." Bronwyn said
solemnly.  "For the first time since the Transformation, she
is dealing with the inherent vulnerability of her new
condition.  She won't catch the next guy who tries to play
cute games with her by surprise, and she knows it.  She is a
virgin, and rape is a scary thing to contemplate.  Let her
have her pants, Laurel.  The skirts have served a purpose, and
I don't think she is going to give them up entirely.  Bonnie
won't let her." she added with a sly smile.

Laurel sipped and closed her eyes tiredly. "Wasn't going to
say no.  Wouldn't do any good anyway because she swore she'd
buy her own if that is what it took.  Told me there'd be hell
to pay if I got rid of them as I had Jack's things that first
night."  She paused, letting the brandy warm her insides a
bit. "We will go shopping for them tomorrow since she is not
going to school again until Thea tells me that little animal
has been expelled.  We will shop tomorrow and she can have all
the trousers she needs to feel safe."

"You know, Laurel, it is a good thing that she doesn't know
the Transformation Spell, yet.  When I walked her to her class
after she clobbered that fool?  There, in her public mind, was
the picture of him as a Dolly Parton clone with the morals and
needs of a rabbit in mating season."  She grinned.  "It was
all I could do to keep myself from making her little wish come
true."

Laurie smiled at that.  "I understand how she feels, but it
still means that she sees the whole thing as punishment."  Her
voice was dejected.

"Boys don't often get raped, luv, and she thought she was
going to be.  We will watch out for her.  And that is another
thing.  Boys.  We need a couple."

The change of topic had Laurie's head spinning.  "Huh?  What
do you mean?"

"You said it yourself, earlier.  You have been dressing her to
get her involved with boys.  It has not worked.  She still
cuts them dead with just a look and there are some rumors
starting to fly about the halls about me and Jacqui being
lesbians.  Regardless of how true that is or not, it is not
the reputation we want her living with just now."

"Well, my little ploy worked so well she is demanding loose
fitting pants as protection. What are you going to do?"

"I have a couple of nice young lads all picked out for us.  In
fact, I have been discreetly influencing them for about two
weeks now.  They are growing quite infatuated with the blond
bombshell and the gypsy goddess upstairs.  They are going to
ask us out to next week's dance and I am going to tell Jacqui
that we need to accept.  Camouflage, you see."  She grinned
mischievously.  "I will even get her to be "nice" to the boy,
maybe a good night kiss or two on the drive home.  If it works
out, and there is no reason why it should not, they can become
our "steadies".  I will keep them from getting too amorous by
imposing some strong inhibitions on them and by giving them
some very interesting dreams to keep their manly urges at a
tolerable level.  I might even talk Miss Priss upstairs into
giving hers a friendly hand job in the back seat one night. 
Do her good to get her hands on a cock, again.  It will also
further increase her self awareness.  She is repressing her
sexuality and that will inhibit her growth to her full
potential."

Laurie listened in stunned disbelief.  "You stinker." she said
admiringly.  "You know?  It ought to work.  I don't know about
the sex, but she will go along with almost anything to keep on
Bonnie's good side and to stay in her bed." Then maternal
instinct flared and Laurie pinned Bronwyn with a stern glare. 
"You are sure these are *nice* boys?  If they hurt her, I will
turn them into harem slaves."

The thought of the usually gentle and forgiving Laurel as the
vengeful wicked witch made Bronwyn chuckle, but she hastened
to reassure her friend.  "Picked 'em myself, luv.  Popular
enough for our purposes with the "in" crowd, but still
independent of them.  Smart, polite, and good natured.  Just
all around nice guys - the kind you bring home to Mother."

"Her first kiss, huh?"  Laurie took a fortifying sip of brandy
as she recalled her own first time with a boy's mouth and
tongue on her own.  "That ought to make it in that diary-that-
is-not-a-diary of hers.  Hope it's a good one!"  She raised
her snifter in a toast.  "To young love."

Chuckling, Bronwyn answered the toast with her own drink in
the air. "Here, here."

Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

5 months 3 days A. T.

Well, the times, they are a' changing.  I have a guy try to
force himself on me (I don't think it would have been rape -
that time), get in a fight, almost get suspended and watch my
mom turn into a virago in front of my eyes.  At least I have
gotten some comfortable pants out of the deal.  And Mom isn't
laying out my outfits for me anymore, either.

That is good and bad.  The good is that I don't feel quite so.
. . all right, I will say the word (go hide in your cave,
Jack) *sexy* when I pick out my clothes.  I don't know why,
but Mom really seemed to have a thing for showing off my legs
and figure.  I have not said anything about it to her before
this, because she said it was a key part of the program to get
back to being male.  Now, I wish I had questioned her more.

Anyway, on the other hand, now I have to make sure things
match.  Grown up girl clothes do not come with little animals
on them that you can match up to ensure that the outfit works
together like little kid clothes do.  She let me go a couple
of days, but yesterday was more than she could stand and she
let me know that the two colors I had on clashed.

Today, I wore a skirt to school for the first time since the
fight.  Bonnie thought I looked great and gave me a big hug
(she really *likes* me in short skirts - which is okay.  I
like the way *she* looks in them, too).  Actually, wearing the
skirt made me feel pretty good, too.  Mostly because I *hate*
the idea that something that jackass did to me was making me
change anything! 

Mom was proud of me, too.  That helped, because in all
honesty, getting out the door in that outfit (I was wearing
the exact same one because it was the exact same one) was not
very easy.  When she told me she was proud of me, it gave me
the little nudge I needed to keep from running up to my room
and coming back down in jeans. 

The other big change is one I am not so positive about.  Jack,
go hide again.  I am going to have a boy friend, or at least,
I am going out with a boy.  These two guys asked us to the
dance tomorrow while we were sitting together at lunch.  I was
going to say no immediately, but Bonnie kicked me under the
table and accepted for both of us.  After they left, I started
to give her hell and she shut me up quickly enough.  Seems
that we are too much of an item around school, and some folks
have figured out that we spend a lot of time together out of
school. Bonnie says her dad will freak if he finds out she
likes girls and so she wants the cover of a boy friend.  Says
I need one, too, and those two are really nice guys from
everything she has heard.  I wouldn't know.  I don't much
listen to the kind of girl talk where guys are the main topic.

Now the kicker.  She says I have to encourage him, gently.  I
have to be nice to him.  What does that mean??  Lord, not that
I don't remember what Jack would have thought of as a girl
being "nice" to him.  (not that any girl ever did anything
like that with or for me back then.)  When I asked her to be
more explicit, she said a kiss or two would be fine - for now.

For NOW?!??!??  Oh, hell.  I don't *want* to be *that* nice to
a boy.

End Journal Entry.

****************
Laurie and Jacqui were relaxing in the living room a few days
after the incident at school.  Jacqui was sitting cross legged
on the floor, peering at a magazine article discussing self
image.  She was dressed in loose shorts and a t-shirt.  She
looked so much like any other, ordinary teenaged woman-child
that Laurie felt tears pricking at her eyes.

"Mom?"  The questioning tone keyed Laurie that something was
bothering the girl and she looked away from the newspaper she
was reading.  Seeing she had her Mother's attention, Jacqui
continued.  "What does "acclimate" really mean?"

Caught off guard by the question, Laurie considered for a
moment. "Since you can use a dictionary, I assume you aren't
asking for generalities, are you, dear?"

Jacqui shook her head slowly.  "No, I mean as in the
"acclimating to being a woman" thing you said I had to do to
master the Transformation thing.  Frankly, I don't know what
that means, and that is starting to scare me.  I don't think I
am ever going to be able to do that."  A tear trickled down
her daughter's cheek.

A little frightened herself, Laurie patted the arm of the
overstuffed chair she was seated in and beckoned the girl
over.  She was more than a little surprised when Jacqui all
but scrambled over to her and sat down there, leaning down
into her Mother's shoulder. "Okay, now give. What is bothering
you.  Specifically."  She tried to keep her tone no-nonsense
in the hope that would help.

"Everything!"  Jacqui sobbed out.

Undone by having her daughter crying on her shoulder, Laurie
just held the girl and let her cry.  When the tears started to
ebb, she said with a tart touch.  "Well, "everything"
certainly narrows it down."

Jacqui knuckled her eyes and gave a watery giggle.  "Real
precise of me, wasn't it?"  She took a deep breath and
snuggled tighter into the chair with her Mother.  "Mom, I
don't think I will ever be as womanly as you are.  It's like
the clothes thing.  I know you told me that learning to wear
them and to deal with them was part of the learning process. 
And I have tried, Mom, but after . . after. . " her voice
faltered, before coming out in a rush.  "After last week at
school, I am more uncomfortable with them than I was in
September.  And I probably ruined everything by making you get
me pants, but I don't think I can wear that other stuff all
the time again just now."  The tears were starting to flow
again.

"Easy, luv.  Now, let's take it from the top.  The clothes
were something I did to try and force you to acknowledge you
were a girl.  It has been partly a success, and partly a
problem.  However, you did your best, and for the most part,
your best was pretty good.  I don't think wearing slacks is
going to set you back if that is what you are worried about. 
I have told you often enough how jealous I am of how fast you
have learned the healing arts.  Those are a woman's craft,
dear.  That should tell you how well you are doing and how far
you have come."  Not to mention that incredibly strong sixth
sense you have developed, Laurie whispered to herself.

"You mean it?  I can wear the pants without losing ground?"

"Wel.l.l.l.l..l," Laurie drew the word out teasingly.  "I
would not trade in your silky undies for jockey's, and it
would be nice if you could dress up occasionally like you did
the other day, but I think wearing jeans to school now and
again won't hurt your progress, love."  Then she grinned.  "In
fact, I know it won't."

Jacqui hugged Laurie tightly, then leaned back to look at her
Mother.  "I was worried.  This "acclimating" thing is so ill-
defined.  I mean, Mom, I still *look* at girls instead of
guys.  Girls turn me on, and guys challenge my competitive
instincts. I want to be better than they are at school and
stuff because they think I shouldn't be.  I know you said you
can't tell me what the lessons all entail, but can't you help
me understand this?  You are a really feminine woman.  If you
are the example of what I have to become, well, I just don't
know if I can ever do that."

Laurie nodded her understanding. She'd never had this
conversation with her own Mother because by this point in her
own Transition, she'd known she was never going back to being
Larry.  "That is a very hard question, Jacqui, because the
answer is different for each one of us.  My answer, or the way
I live my life, won't be your answer or the way you will live
your life.  As the line goes, dear, you must "to thine own
self be true".  I think, that eventually, you will find that
there will come a time when you don't fight yourself so hard. 
When the different perceptions and instincts implicit in being
a woman will no longer seem "different" to you.  Basically,
you will be "acclimated" when you are happy with yourself as
you are then, regardless of how that person is perceived by
others."

A frown furrowed the girl's smooth forehead.  "But doesn't
that mean that to be able to return to being Jack, I have to
reach the point that I don't want to be him, anymore?"  There
was a touch of accusation in her voice.

Laurie smiled gently to defuse her anger.  "No, love, that is
not what it means. It is not an "either-or" situation.  Just
because you are happy living one way does not mean you cannot
also be happy in another, drastically different situation,
too.  Jacqui, the learning you have yet to undertake is not
intended to deprive you of your old self, or to brainwash you
so that you no longer want that for yourself.  It is intended
to help you find and come to like, the real woman that you,
Jacqui Donovan, could have been."  Should have been, came the
silent whisper.  "And first, you have to discover her for
yourself.  You had seventeen years to discover Jack, luv.  I
don't think you have done such a bad job with only five months
to find Jacqui."

Uncertainty still clouded her eyes.  "You promise, none of
this will take away my real choice to be Jack again?  There is
nothing that this discovery thing does that will force me to
change how I feel about that?"

Laurie hugged the girl again reassuringly. "Only you and your
own free will could make that change, dear.  I would never
impose such a thing on you.  I promise. And it won't be so
very hard.  I quite like the person you are becoming, dear.  I
think you will, too, in the fullness of time."

Jacqui started to say something in response, then closed her
mouth.  She hugged her Mother again, then slipped off the
chair and went to her room.

*****************
Lancaster read the message with increasing anger.  The bitches
had figured out something was up and had taken action against
his operations.  Effective action, too, since his two targets
in Atlanta and in Charlotte had suddenly become much more
surveillance conscious.  He could not take them now without
coming to the attention of the local officials.

One thing about power, though, *when* you used it is often
much more important than *how much* you used.  He had time. 
He would continue to watch the elements of the Sisterhood he
had identified and bide his time.  If nothing else came up,
the cessation of his operations against them might give them a
false sense of security.  Additionally, there was still
something he was missing in that situation in California. 
What was their name, again?  Oh, yes, the Donovan women. 
Well, he'd would let things work for a while.  The longer he
waited, the stronger his Brotherhood became.  Time was on his
side.

~-------~

Continued in Part 10

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A Change of Direction: An Alternative Ending to Mike
Allegretto's Change of Pace

  1997 by Tigger

Based upon and derived from the situations and characters
developed by Mike Allegretto and Caitlin B. in their
collaborative story, "A Change of Pace", posted 2/16/97
on ASSTG.   Written and published  with the express permission 
of the original authors.  No archiving or redistribution of
this work is permitted without this copyright attribution
included, intact and complete, in the posting/archiving. 
Archiving/publication of this author's work on any system that
requires payment in any form is prohibited by the author and
is in violation of my copyright to Chapters 7 and beyond.

The following is a work of erotic fiction.  It is
intended for the entertainment of mature, legally adult
individuals living in areas where the possession and enjoyment
of such material is legal.  If you are not legally an
adult, or if such material is not legal in your locale, then
you are violating a trust as well as the law. Please leave
now.

The first three characters of my reply to address are random as a
result of the vicious email spam I have been subjected to since I
began posting.  Please reply to 

tigger@alices.com.

A Change of Pace
Chapter 16

Laurie surveyed the utter chaos in Jacqui's room with a
benignly maternal mein.  The room looked like a tornado had
struck her daughter's closet and armoire and had deposited
every single garment the girl owned in the middle of the room. 
Bright colors splashed every square inch of horizontal space
in the room and hung from most of the handy vertical pieces of
furniture.  "Has this room been ransacked by some arch thief
searching for the Maltese Falcon, or perhaps a super spy
searching for the classified designs of your new secret
weapon?"  she asked, as much to let Jacqui know she was there
as to poke fun at the girl.  

"Moo-oom!"  Jacqui responded, managing to add a few syllables
to the name in her distress.  "What *am* I going to wear,
tonight?"

"Well, you are going dancing, luv.  I would wear something
that was easy to move in. This," and she picked up clingy,
mini-skirted knit dress, "would let you kick up your heels and
look pretty at the same time."  

The look on her daughter's face held more than a little bit of
fear in it.  "But, but, .. it's so . . . . short."

Mine field, Laurie realized.  Maybe Bronwyn had pushed this
too fast and too soon after the incident at school.  Sighing,
she moved through the rainbow of colors.  "I guess you could
wear these jeans.  I understand that many girls do wear jeans
at dances these days."

The look of abject despair on Jacqui's face pulled at her
mother's heart.  "Bonnie said I couldn't.  She is wearing a
dress, so I have to wear one, too."  And I still have not
bought you anything that is middle of the road, have I,
Jacqui, her mother silently sympathized.  I wanted you to
constantly aware of you womanliness, and your clothes tended
to reinforce that.  The only things you have that aren't
intended to put you in the spotlight are the jeans you
demanded last week.  Looks like I put you in a pickle.

"Sit down, Jacqui."  She said as she cleared a spot on the bed
for them both.  Dejectedly, Jacqui plopped down beside her
Mother.  "Now listen to me.  Bonnie is your friend, and I am
your Mother.  You don't have to wear a dress if it really
bothers you.  First dates are tough for all girls, but
especially for folks like you and me who did not grow up
thinking of boys *that* way."  

"I don't want to disappoint Bonnie, but I don't have anything
I feel . . . " she searched for a word, "comfortable wearing." 
Laurie heard the word she meant to say, that she had nothing
she felt safe wearing.  

"I don't have a chastity belt for you, darling. . . "

"MOM!!!" The girl flushed bright red at the thought and at the
fact that her Mother had read her so clearly.

Laurie put a finger to Jacqui's lips to shush her. "You did
not let me finish, love, but I do have something that might
help.  I will go get it while you find the longest, fullest
dress or skirt you have."  She stood and left before the girl
could ask her what she was up to.  In her own bedroom, Laurie
found what she was looking for and hurried back to the room. 
Darn Bronwyn, anyway, she should not have pushed the girl so
hard. And darn herself, too, for not foreseeing the need for
her daughter to look nice without looking too sexy. They
should have been ecstatic just to get her out on a date with a
male, but no, Bronwyn had to go for the home run and make her
feel femininely vulnerable, again.

She returned to the room to find Jacqui standing in front of
the mirror holding the same outfit Laurie had first suggested.
*That* was the longest skirt she owned??   No wonder she was
in a panic, Laurie thought to herself. "Here, put this on.  It
will be a bit small on you because it is mine and you are
taller and more rounded than your dear old Mom."  The garment
she held out was white and looked like running shorts.  

Carefully, Jacqui took the proffered item and looked at it. 
"What is it?" she finally asked in confusion.

"Something you don't really need, luv, so I did not buy you
any.  It is a long line panty girdle.  I use it when I am
stalking to keep gravity from winning, but you can use it as a
pretend chastity belt.  They are bloody hard to get on and
off, so even if you find out you like boys, you won't find
your panties down around your ankles before you are really
ready to take them down yourself."  At that, Jacqui's face
darkened and Laurie raised a hand to forestall the deluge she
saw coming.  "I *know* you don't intend to have that happen,
dear, but I have to be honest with you.  One aspect of the
Transformation is that you are a very excitable young woman. 
I wanted you to enjoy your sexuality, so I .... well, I gave
you a little help."

"Gee, thanks a whole lot, Mother." was Jacqui's disgusted
response.

"You're welcome, I'm sure," was Laurie's cheeky response. 
"Now, toddle off to the bathroom and do your business.  You
are not going to want to be fighting your way into and out of
this thing all night."  She smacked her daughter's panty-ed
bottom to hurry her along.  

She was ready just in time.  She wore pantyhose since Laurie
did not have any regular stockings that were short enough for
the panty girdle, and her one inch heeled pumps.  The knit
dress looked great on her, showing off her high breasts and
narrow waist perfectly.  That boy was going to be in terminal
lust before the night was over.  Laurie had helped her with
making up her face, using a somewhat heavier hand than Bronwyn
had taught the girl.  It was a dance, after all, and it would
be dark in the gym so she'd need the extra color and
definition.  At least, that is what she told Jacqui.

She'd approved of the young man, too.  Marcus Arnold was tall,
maybe six feet one or so, and he dressed nicely in slacks,
loafers and a knit pullover.  His manners were excellent and
he made real points with Laurie when he complimented her
daughter by comparing her with her mom.  A quick, magical
reading of the boy showed that there was no malice in him; he
was simply a nice young man looking forward to a good time
with a very pretty girl.  Bronwyn had chosen well. Teary-eyed,
Laurie had waved to them as they drove off.  She'd wait up for
them, but she would only show herself if she sensed any upset
or panic in her daughter.  She'd run the boy off then, but if
everything went well, tomorrow was soon enough to try and
share those little "first date" mother/daughter confidences.

The car Marcus was driving had bucket seats, a center console
and *no* back-seat.  At least, Jacqui thought, I won't have to
worry about getting caught in that old cliche.  Marcus tried
to make conversation with her on the trip, but she was so
nervous, she answered in monosyllables, if at all.

At school, he rushed around the car to open her door and hand
her out.  She smiled in appreciation for the gallant move, but
not for the reason he probably assumed.  It was darned hard to
move in the girdle.  There was no way she would have
gracefully managed getting out of the low slung car without
his help.  As it was, she only barely missed flashing him
before she remembered to spin both her legs out the door and
to keep them together while she stood.  Again, she regretted
the promise she'd made Bonnie that she'd wear a dress or skirt
tonight.

He offered her his arm, and it took her a moment to realize
that she was supposed to put her arm in his for the walk to
the door.  As she walked beside him, she wondered at the size
difference between the two of them.  Jack had almost always
been taller than his friends.  Being so close to someone so
much taller than her was a very new experience.  Since her
Transformation, she mostly spent time with her Mom and with
Bonnie, and they were shorter than she was.  Even on the team,
only a few of the girls were really taller than she was and
she did not get all that close to them.

They entered the darkened, noisy gym.  The music was loud and
the kids were louder.  Marcus said something to her and she
could not hear him.  He yelled in her ear "Do.... You....
Want.....to.....Dance?"

Hell no, she thought frantically.  Swallowing hard, she looked
at the dance floor and realized it was the fast kind of dance
kids like, with very little body contact.  Closing her eyes,
she nodded her agreement.  He gently took her hand and led her
out into the milling throng of dancing kids.

Dancing was a little harder than she remembered from her boy-
days.  First, she was in heels, and no matter how low they
were, they *were* heels.  She made sure she kept her balance
first and the beat second.  Besides, the rapid, athletic style
of movement she had preferred on the dance floor as Jack did
not suit her current stature, build or dress. 

Surreptitiously, she glanced around at the nearby dancers
until she found another girl dressed in heels and a skirt
dancing nearby.  Using the girl as her model, Jacqui began
learning how to dance like the girl she was instead of the boy
she had been.  

We forgot this part of it, Mom, she thought ruefully, and then
another, scarier thought hit.  Whatever was she going to do
when they started slow dancing?  What little of that she'd
done, she'd done as a guy and guys led.  Should she claim not
to know how to dance that way?  

The turn of her mind kept her from really enjoying the
dancing.  When that set ended, she asked (yelled) if they
could take a short respite so she could go to the lady's room. 
On the way there, she was intercepted by Bonnie who went in
with her.

"How's it going, girl?  Isn't he a great guy?"  Bonnie
bubbled, trying to figure out how it was *really* going.

"It's okay, I guess.  I don't know how to dance, but I am
faking it on the hip-hop stuff.  Don't know what I am gonna do
when we slow dance."

Bonnie grinned easily, trying to relax the girl.  "That's
easy.  Just hold on to him, go where he pulls you, and try to
keep your feet out from under his."

Remembering Jack's own attempts at crushing a girl's toe,
Jacqui laughed nervously.  Maybe that was all it would take. 
"Well, I will try, but if he hits the same toe three times, I
will accidently nail his little toe with my heel."  She
remembered a girl doing that to Jack, too.

Bonnie came out of the stall and finished refreshing her
makeup. "Aren't you going to use the convenience?  It is going
to be a long night."

Jacqui simply shook her head and rubbed her belly with one
hand as she moved to the door. "Can't.  All locked in." and
she sailed out into the hall where Marcus awaited her
anxiously.

"Locked in?"  Bronwyn asked herself and then thought, Laurie,
what have you done?  Her own date, Jeremy was waiting for her. 
She'd have to talk to her young charge again later to find out
what the story was.

In the end, it was a case of the "best laid plans of mice, men
and witches oft times go a leigh."  Bronwyn never caught up
with Jacqui again that night, having to use some mighty quick
foot work to keep her own toes intact.  She saw Jacqui leaving
on Marcus' arm as the teachers were trying to herd the kids
out so that they could go home, too.  At least she had been
smiling up at the boy as they walked to the car.  Now, if only
the last "good night" went well.

Once she had talked with Bonnie, Jacqui had stopped fretting
so much.  The girdle, for all the discomfort it caused her,
would be ample protection against any improprieties she did
not welcome.  The music was great and she'd always loved
dancing.  Even the slow dancing was okay, and toward the end
of that, she had decided that being held close against a big
strong warm body had possibilities she had not considered
before.  And Marcus had not stepped on her toes even once.  He
was a much better dancer than she was or than Jack had ever
been.

The evening had flown by.  When the two of them weren't
dancing, they would step out into the hall for a refreshment
or a chat.  She discovered that Marcus was an English Major,
which explained why she did not see him in her science
oriented classes, and that he was going to Washington State
for college.  He wrestled instead of playing basketball, and
he liked tennis for recreation.  It was also very obvious that
he liked Jacqui, too, and surprisingly, that did not bother
her as she had thought it would.  Eventually, the dance had
come to a close and with that had ended her short idyll.  Now,
driving back toward the sanctuary of her house, she started
worrying about the kiss Bonnie had insisted she bestow on her
gallant escort.

Do girls really kiss on the first date, she thought in a mild
panic.  Bonnie had insisted that they do.  "It's only four
lips touching, idiot.  You and I do it all the time. You seem
to like it well enough."  Had been Bonnie's scathing comment
when Jacqui had initially bridled at the idea of kissing
Marcus.  Yeah, Bonnie, but you are a girl and he's a boy, and
part of me still thinks like a boy.

In the end, she convinced herself that she would "tough it
out".  As he had at the school, Marcus had nearly fallen in
his dash to open her car door when they pulled up next to the
darkened house.  There were no interior lights on, but Mum had
left the porch light on for her.  Jacqui managed a more
dignified exit from the car this time and found herself
standing very close to Marcus once she gained her feet. His
hand still held hers as she looked up into his face.  She had
no where to go, just then, for the car blocked her retreat and
his body blocked her advance. This, then, was her moment of
truth. 

By now, Jacqui had a reading on Marcus and knew him to be a
decent and gentle guy.  All she had to do was let him know
that he was too damned close and pushing too hard for a first
date and he'd back off in an instant.  But she'd promised
Bonnie. . .

Shyly, she rose up on her tip-toes and planted a soft kiss on
his cheek.  "Thank you, Marcus," her whisper was raspy with
her nerves.  "I had a wonderful time."

Taking her kiss as an invitation, Marcus clumsily wrapped his
arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him.  He
brought his lips down on to hers and made a very sloppy
attempt at a more intimate, mature kiss.  His tongue swept her
lips.  Involuntarily, her arms came up around his neck and she
returned the kiss, dueling with her own tongue.

A dog barking next door, startled the two deeply involved
teens and they broke apart.  Staring at one another, they
simply stood there unmoving for several seconds.  Finally,
Jacqui broke the silence. "I should be going in."

"I will walk you to the door." Marcus answered, his tone
brooking no argument.  She gave him her arm and allowed
herself to be led to the door. 

She took her key from her purse and then unlocked and opened
the door.  She started to go in, when she stopped suddenly and
moved up to kiss him once more, this time on the mouth.  "Good
night, Marcus.  Thank you again."  

Shocked at herself, Jacqui quickly closed the door and all but
ran up the stairs to her room, not seeing the smiling Laurie
standing in the deep shadows of the darkened front room. 
Well, Bronwyn, she thought happily, looks like you won your
gamble again.  Very pleased with the night's work, Laurie
settled herself on the couch to wait for her daughter to fall
asleep.  No sense letting her know that Mom was watching out
for her when she was being so brave.

Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan


5 months 4 almost 5 days A. T.

I have survived my first date with a boy with my virtue and
sanity intact.  Actually, it was a really good time once I
stopped worrying about being a girl and just had some fun.  If
I was going to write like a girl, I would say that Marcus was
sweet.  Well, he was, Jack.  I did not even need that blasted
foundation garment from hell Mom found for me.  Having it was
nice, though.  I felt much safer in it when I left for the
dance.  I am not sure I would have been able to get out of the
house without it, unless I wore pants.  

I, Jacqui Donovan, do hereby swear that I will not let Bonnie
Davis talk me into any more promises that scare the hell out
of me.

Wearing skirts to dances.  Going out with boys.  Kissing boys. 
God, what will the girl come up with next.

Actually, the kissing wasn't so bad.  He was really shy about
it.  I think if I had said "boo" to him, he'd have fainted. 
The strange thing is that I *think* I was really the one in
control.  Or I was until my brain shutdown.  Good thing that
dog barked or I might have been trying to figure out how to
get out of that panty girdle.

Now there is a very honest and very scary bit of truth.  Mom
told me that Transformation Spell she cast has given me, now
how shall I put this delicately, an enhanced enthusiasm for
sexual adventure.  More bluntly put, I am going to have to be
very careful in the future because as I found out tonight, I
have tendencies toward being easy.

Being smaller than a guy has some distinctly interesting
aspects to it.  For one thing, I felt. . . .protected(?) by
him when he held me tonight.  New feeling for me because I
have never felt anything like it before.  Not a bad feeling, I
think, just different.

Well, if he asks me out again, I am going to go.  I am going
to have to think about that damned panty girdle, though. 
Might be smart to wear it a few more times, particularly if he
kisses like that all the time.  I am going to have to find out
if that was beginner's luck, I think.

He has nice eyes.  I like him.  

Damn, Bonnie is going to crow about this.  She was so sure she
was right.  The fact that she was makes me want to spit. 
Can't she be wrong about this girl stuff - just once so I will
know she is human?

End Journal entry.

****************
Bronwyn sipped the tea that Laurie had prepared. "So the
"locked in" was a girdle?  And she wore it because she did not
feel safe in that dress?  Lord, Laurel, she did not have to
wear something that provocative just because I made her
promise not to wear trousers.  Couldn't you talk her into
something in between?"

"She... uh, she doesn't have anything "in-between", Bron. 
That was chosen as the longest skirt she has.  I must admit
that I have gone overboard making her dress like a very girly
girl when I first outfitted her."

"No lie!" was Bronwyn's emphatic response.  "I never knew. 
She needs other clothes, then, Laurel.  She needs women's
clothes that she doesn't feel exposed in and that are still
obviously feminine."

"I know.  I asked her to come shopping with me this weekend. 
I let her believe it was for me, so we won't be going to the
youth oriented boutiques I dragged her to last summer.  She'll
relax and we will find things she likes wearing, hopefully." 
Laurie sipped her own tea.  "She liked the kiss, by the way. 
She would not come right out and say it, but by the scarlet
blush that covered her when I asked about it, she must have
liked it a lot."

"Good.  That bit of self knowledge should help her.  How is
her training coming?"

"Great. She just soaks it up, and she has a very gentle touch
with healing."  A sly grin stole across her features.  "My
periods have not been this easy since my own Mother passed
over.  She is also very strong.  And she anticipates
knowledge. I mean, she is very intuitive.  Sometimes I think
she already knows what it is I intend to teach her."

"What about other magic?  Illusions and such?"

"I haven't started those yet.  As you know, those skills are
not the strengths of my craft and I have been practicing them
first.  It is too bad she can't take that teaching from you. 
I think you would do much better with her than I will in those
areas."

"Two problems with that.  One, the Sisterhood tradition is
that a Mother teaches her Transformed child.  I could get
around that one, but the other one is a harder nut.  If she is
intuitive as you say she is, I don't want her around Bronwyn
Llewellyn enough to see something that reminds her of Bonnie
Davis.  Not yet, anyway.  That is reason I have not been
around here as often lately."

"True.  I'll start in a couple of months.  There is time. 
What is on your agenda for her?"

"More boy-stuff.  She needs to keep exploring that aspect of
her personality and it is best that I help keep young Marcus
on a fairly tight leash for her.  I may have done my work too
well with him, because I think he is falling for our Jacqui
and falling hard."

"Is that a problem?  It was nice when the boy who gave me Jack
liked me a lot."

"Not a problem, but your impregnator was on his way to the
Middle East thing in Beirut and you were able to move away
and disappear after you "caught".  Marcus is going to want 
to marry the girl.  It is the way his mind works.  He is the 
honorable, responsible sort.  We'll just have to move the 
two of you somewhere else if he does become the one who 
gives her the baby she will need to master the 
Transformation Spell."

Laurie's shoulders slumped a bit at that news. "I have liked
living here, but if that is what is best for Jacqui, then we
will move."  It was a long standing tradition with the
Sisterhood that the fathers of their children never knew of
their existence.  Men tended to take a dim view of their sons
suddenly being Transformed into daughters.  In most cases, the
Sisters arranged "accidents" so that they could "die".  Then,
they would alter their appearance and move elsewhere to raise
their child and to continue the Sisterhood.

"Well, no need to do anything about it right away.  He is good
for her right now, and she evidently likes him.  She may find
someone else while he is away at college.  We will wait and
see for now." 


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

6 months, 2 days A. T.

This intuition stuff is really starting to get to me, again. 
When is something intuition and when is it paranoia??

Case in point.  Mom's friend Bronwyn.  When I first met her,
she said she wanted to be my friend, but lately it seems that
whenever I get home and she is here, she immediately has to
leave.  Like I said... Paranoia, probably.

But it just keeps . . . . tickling at me.  And I have this
deja vu kind of sensation.  It sounds like one of Jack's tired
old lines, but I feel like asking her if we've met before.  We
probably have, now that I think about it.  She is an old
college chum of Mom's which means I might have met her years
ago, when I was really little.

It is just that this intuition thing is so bloody nebulous. 
It's there and it's not.  You *feel* something, and then when
you look for whatever it is, there is nothing to *look* at.  I
feel like I am searching for the monster under the bed,
sometimes.

On a similar issue, I have been playing chess with Marcus.  He
is a fairly good player for an English major.  No match for
Jack, but more than good enough to give Jacqui a run for her
money.  I don't think I am going to repeat as school district
chess champion.  I can beat Marcus, usually, and I always
clobber him when we play a speed game. 

I have spent a bit of time analyzing my game lately. 
Fortunately, my memory is still nearly eidetic, so I have
reconstructed all my games.  My openings and my end games are
just fine.  In fact, my end game, if anything, is better.  I
seem to have this killer instinct that I did not have before.
Maybe the female is deadlier than the male.

It is the middle game where I get into trouble.  If I can't
clear the board quickly and force a confrontation; if my
opponent forces a strategic battle for position with an eye
towards winning by a pawn or some such, I get beaten pretty
much every time.  Holding more than three or four moves in my
head now is really difficult.  I seem to find too many other
things to attract my attention.  The other problem is that I
am *slow* in that situation.  I would have defaulted one game
on time limit if my opponent at the chess club had not put me
out of my misery on his previous move.

No, the only reason I will be in the tournament in March is
because I am defending champion.  The players at school now
know better than to get into a speed match with me and the
ones with a mature middle game can cripple my end game
thrusts.

Oh well.

End Journal Entry

Continued in Part 11


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A Change of Direction: An Alternative Ending to Mike
Allegretto's Change of Pace

  1997 by Tigger

Based upon and derived from the situations and characters
developed by Mike Allegretto and Caitlin B. in their
collaborative story, "A Change of Pace", posted 2/16/97
on ASSTG.   Written and published  with the express permission 
of the original authors.  No archiving or redistribution of
this work is permitted without this copyright attribution
included, intact and complete, in the posting/archiving. 
Archiving/publication of this author's work on any system that
requires payment in any form is prohibited by the author and
is in violation of my copyright to Chapters 7 and beyond.

The following is a work of erotic fiction.  It is
intended for the entertainment of mature, legally adult
individuals living in areas where the possession and enjoyment
of such material is legal.  If you are not legally an
adult, or if such material is not legal in your locale, then
you are violating a trust as well as the law. Please leave
now.

The first three characters of my reply to address are random as a
result of the vicious email spam I have been subjected to since I
began posting.  Please reply to 

tigger@alices.com.

A Change of Direction
Chapter 17


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

6 months, 18 days A. T.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End Journal Entry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

7 months, 8 days A. T.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


End of Journal Entry


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

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

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

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

"No problem.  I am still inhibiting Marcus.  If they try to go
all the way, he won't be able to maintain an erection.  I will
figure out how to keep that from doing any long term damage to
either of them when it happens, but for now, that is our
failsafe."

"Precocious little minx, isn't she?  Only six months old and
already a bit of a vamp."  Laurie giggled to her friend.
"But only in the nicest sense of the word, you round-heeled
wench.  How could she be anything else when she is *your*
daughter.  Anyway, our plan is working.  She is no longer
thought of as a tease at school and she is becoming more
femininely confident every day.  I got to get back.  Just
wanted you to know."



Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

8 months, 16 days A. T.

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

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

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

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

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

Good grief, what am I saying??

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

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

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

End of Journal Entry


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

8 months, 18 days A. T.

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

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

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

Still, I am pretty pleased with myself.  

End Journal entry.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

8 months, 24 days A. T.

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

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

ARRRGGGGHHH!

End of Journal Entry


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

9 months, 2 days A. T.

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

Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

9 months, 5 days A. T.

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

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

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

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

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

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

End Journal Entry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

9 months, 9 days A. T.

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

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

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

Not as much anyway.  Maybe. 

Hell.

End of Journal Entry


Continued in Part 12


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A Change of Direction: An Alternative Ending to Mike
Allegretto's Change of Pace

  1997 by Tigger

Based upon and derived from the situations and characters
developed by Mike Allegretto and Caitlin B. in their
collaborative story, "A Change of Pace", posted 2/16/97
on ASSTG.   Written and published  with the express permission 
of the original authors.  No archiving or redistribution of
this work is permitted without this copyright attribution
included, intact and complete, in the posting/archiving. 
Archiving/publication of this author's work on any system that
requires payment in any form is prohibited by the author and
is in violation of my copyright to Chapters 7 and beyond.

The following is a work of erotic fiction.  It is
intended for the entertainment of mature, legally adult
individuals living in areas where the possession and enjoyment
of such material is legal.  If you are not legally an
adult, or if such material is not legal in your locale, then
you are violating a trust as well as the law. Please leave
now.

The first three characters of my reply to address are random as a
result of the vicious email spam I have been subjected to since I
began posting.  Please reply to 

tigger@alices.com.

A Change of Direction
Chapter 18

Jacqui slept late the morning of the Prom.  She intentionally
did not set her alarm until noon because she knew it was going
to be a very late night.  She got out of her bed with a bounce
and headed for her armoire to get some clothes when she
stopped herself.  She looked at her reflection in the mirror. 
Sleep ruffled, her tousled mane of hair gave her a look that
Jack found very sexy.  The long, satiny nightgown hugged her
youthful curves like a glove and Jack liked that even more. 
She sat down, her teeth worrying at her lower lip as she
decided if she really was going to do this.

Finally, scolding herself for her lack of conviction, and
determined to do what needed to be done, she pulled on the
matching, filmy peignoir, her high heeled slippers and headed
down to the kitchen.

Her Mother was doing something at the stove when she came down
that smelled wonderful.  "About time you got up, lazybones,
you have a lot to d. . ."  She stopped talking when she turned
to face her daughter, surprised at seeing her still in her
pretty night clothes.  "Uhmm, aren't you afraid you won't be
ready in time for Marcus waiting so long to get started?"
Heavens, but she was lovely, Laurie thought again.  Why
couldn't the girl see that and treasure that?  "I know you
don't think much of the little female rituals, dear, but there
is a lot to do to get ready for a special night."

Coughing to clear her throat, Jacqui smiled shyly at her
Mother.  "Sort of thought there might be, Mum.  I was, uhh,
wondering if you could help me get ready?"  The dumbfounded
and unabashed hope that lit her Mother's eyes made Jacqui's
insides hurt.  Quickly, she rushed on, otherwise one or both
of them would be crying.  "I, uh, still don't know how to do
up my hair and face as well as you do, and I was thinking,
maybe you'd take some video of the whole shebang?  I might
want. . . memories . . . later."  She'd almost said "when I am
a man again, but had stopped herself just in time.  That would
start the hurting again."

A painfully joyous smile lit Laurie's face.  "I could do
that." she whispered.  "I would really like to do that."  She
added.  Then, before she could start bawling, Laurie spun back
to the stove.  "I am making your favorite breakfast of
blueberry pancakes.  I don't expect you will want to eat later
today.  So, sit yourself down.  You will need nourishment if
I'm going to be getting you ready."

"What ever have I let myself in for?" Jacqui laughed as she
settled into the chair with a swirl of silk.  Thank you,
Bonnie, she thought.  Thank you very much.

Jacqui was not *quite* so grateful seven hours later as she
waited impatiently for the arrival of her date.  Laurie had
been a task-mistress of the first order from the moment she
had set the stack of pancakes in front of her daughter.

Jacqui had been sent back to her bath twice to re-shave her
legs.  "The stockings are real silk, dear.  We don't want
pulls, now do we?" she'd asked ever-so-sweetly. 

Then there was the four or five attempts to get her nail color
*just* right, or the three different hair arrangements or the
untold different makeup attempts.  "You do want it to be
perfect, don't you darling?"  And of course, Jacqui did, for
her Mom as much or more than for herself.

One problem, however, had been Laurie's quite literal
interpretation of "videotaping the whole shebang".  Jacqui had
good naturedly chased her Mother out of the bathroom when she
was getting ready for her soak in the tub, but she had needed
to put her foot down when Laurie reached for the camcorder as
Jacqui prepared to put on her lingerie.  "Mom!  I might want
to share this with someone other than family someday, okay? 
Let's try not to turn it into a reverse strip tease?"

That had earned an embarrassed laugh from Laurie who had then,
reluctantly, put down the camera to help her daughter put on
the slinky wisps of satin and silk they'd bought to go with
the dress.  Looking at herself in the mirror as she stood
there, arrayed in a red silk camisole and matching thong
panties set, Jacqui thought it would be nice to have some
lingerie shots of herself when she was Jack again.  Although,
she admitted, there would be something perverse about getting
horny looking at the picture of a girl while knowing that you
had been the girl.

Finally, they put on the dress.  Made of shimmering red and
black silks, the design of the calf length, off the shoulder
formal dress had been derived from Romany styles.  The vivid
colors accented Jacqui's complexion and the tightly fitted
bodice was cut to show just the right amount of creamy breast
and cleavage. The tight waist flowed into a full skirt that
would swirl teasingly as Jacqui danced and spun about the
floor.  With her hair teased full and tied off in a bright red
satin bandanna, the large, clip-on (she'd still paled at the
thought of getting her ears pierced) earrings, and her
Mother's cosmetic artistry, Jacqui was done over into the
living image of her gypsy Great Great Great Grandmother.

The final scene in Laurie's video production was a shot of the
stunned stare on Marcus's face as he watched Jacqui slowly,
regally descend the stairs.  Jacqui's quick kiss and "Thanks
for everything, Mom." finally sent Laurie over the edge.  She
spent the rest of her night watching the video of *their* day
together again and again, weeping happily over each
unexpected, precious gift her daughter had surprised her with
this day.


Excerpt from the Journal of Miss Jacqui Donovan

9 months 12 days A. T.

What a remarkable day yesterday was.  I feel like Eliza
Doolittle.  "...I could have danced all night..."

The Prom was a lot of fun, particularly since both Marcus and
I knew how to really dance.

And I am feeling very smug and righteous about doing the girl-
thing with Mom yesterday.  I may not have been born or meant
to be a girl, and I am not likely to stay one any longer than
I have to, but Jacqui made Mom happy yesterday.  And it wasn't
so very difficult.  Maybe if I do things like that a little
more often with her, fight her on things like that a little
less, it won't be so hard on her when she no longer has
Jacqui.  Maybe.

I also went a lot farther with Marcus yesterday than I ever
intended to go.  I went down on him.  Yes, that is what I
said.  I, Jacqueline Donovan, formerly Jack Donovan, am now
*officially* a cocksucker.  Actually, that is really a crude
term for something that made me feel pretty good inside
because it made Marcus feel so good.

It was nothing like I expected it to be.  Sort of hard and
sort of velvety soft, all at the same time.  As to the taste,
well, it was just sort of salty.  In all honesty, I am not
really sure why I did it.  It started out to be another hand
job, but I was just so . . .so high after the dancing and the
music, and he'd just been so great to me, I just sort of gave
him a little kiss on his little head while a stroked his
erection.  Next thing I knew, I had the whole head in my mouth
and he was groaning like he was in heaven. The way he
responded to what I did with my mouth made me feel so
incredibly powerful, so very, very strong.  I never remember
feeling that kind of power when I was Jack.  Made my panties
rather damp, actually.

Marcus wasn't shy about kissing me afterwards, either.  No
silly worries about being a cocksucker by proxy in my lad, and
he told me he understands about me not being ready to "go all
the way".  Says he wants to learn to "do the same thing" for
me.  Does a guy do it differently than a girl, like Bonnie,
does it?  In any case, I think I will keep him, at least as
long as I am Jacqui.  He is really a good guy.  I wonder if we
would have been friends if I had met him as Jack?  He's not
into the same sports as I am... was.  

And on a very positive note - *if* as I suspect, that making
love with a guy is a critical step in my "acclimating as a
woman" - I don't think that is quite so far out of the
question, now.  It still makes my stomach a bit queasy, but it
is "butterflies in the tummy" queasy and not "oh god, not
that" queasy.  It is still a bit scary, but I think I can see
my way clear to overcoming that particular road block to
learning the Transformation Spell.

All things considered - It was a lovely day.

End Journal Entry


*************
It was a surprisingly refreshed and awake Jacqui came down
from her room the next morning.  Jacqui was surprised to find
her Mother's friend, Bronwyn, sitting in the kitchen drinking
a cup of tea, alone.  She was even more surprised when Bronwyn
did not gulp down her tea and bolt.  Maybe I am just over-
reacting, she thought.  

Still not seeing her Mother, Jacqui greeted Bronwyn with her
best smile.  "Hi, Ms. Llewellyn.  Good morning.  Is my Mom
around?"

Bronwyn smiled a the girl and offered her some tea. "She had
to make a quick run to the store.  Something about not having
strawberries or some such thing."

Jacqui turned to the stove to get the tea. "Oh, she is
planning her special shortcake for dinner, Bonn..." Confused,
Jacqui stuttered to a stop and spun to look at Bronwyn.  "I
mean, Ms. Llewellyn."  Something about Bronwyn caught her eye, 
had put her in mind of Bonnie, and she had nearly called her
that.  But that was silly.  Bronwyn was a good four or five
inches taller than the pixie tall Bonnie, and she was not
nearly as . . . busy as her superbly endowed school friend.

"Is something the matter, Jacqui?"  Bronwyn asked, cocking her
head to one side.

"N...n.no.  Nothing.  Just a silly mixup is all."  But that is
*just* the way Bonnie holds her head when she is asking me
something.  Now hold on girl, she thought, what you are
thinking is just plain impossible, she told herself sternly,
but just as suddenly stopped herself in mid-argument.  

Now "impossible" is a mighty strange word for you to be
applying to any situation, Jacqueline who used to be Jack, she
thought.  And every instinct you possess is screaming
"Bonnie".  

Taking a shaky sip of the tea, she told herself to think
clearly, and to examine *all* the facts.  Who was Bonnie?  She
only knew what Bonnie had told her.  And as soon as Bonnie
showed up, things began to get easier for her.  Who helped her
with clothes and makeup when she was fighting with her Mom? 
Who helped start healing that breach?  Who was always there to
give her a little hint or to correct her before she made a
humiliatingly masculine error?  The answer was always the
same.  Bonnie.  Who found Marcus and all but dared her to go
out with him.  Again, the answer was Bonnie.

It also made sense that, if Bonnie was really Bronwyn, that
maybe she'd decided to play it safe, and keep a low profile
around Jacqui.

Was it within her Mother's power to find someone to be her
friend and confidante?  Would her Mother do anything she could
to help her daughter once she realized just how badly the
Transformation had gone?  The answer to each of those
questions was a resounding yes.

Suddenly, all doubts disappeared from Jacqui's mind.  If
Laurie could Transform Jack into Jacqui, then Bonnie had to be
Bronwyn, and Bronwyn was of the coven or whatever it was that
group of her Mother's was called themselves.  Now, the big
question was whether she should be angry about the deception? 
Hadn't the ruse given her help she needed but would not accept
from her Mother? 

And then that answer became equally clear to her.  She should
be angry only if Bonnie/Bronwyn was not really her friend. 
She'd be angry only if *all* of it had been a deception. 
Otherwise, Bonnie/Bronwyn was exactly what she seemed to be -
the friend she had needed.  The very special friend who had
always been there for Jacqui whenever she had needed her.

Taking a deep breath to soothe her fluttering stomach, Jacqui
looked the older woman straight in the eye.  "Hello, Bonnie-
love.  How are you this morning?"

Bronwyn nearly responded out of habit, without thinking,
before it hit her that she wasn't wearing her "Bonnie-skin". 
Eyeing the girl speculatively, she made a quick assessment of
whether she could bluff her way through this or not.  A
telepathic check of Jacqui's public mind put paid to that
idea.  The girl was absolutely certain.  Somehow, she had
taken all the disparate information and put it together into
the truth.  Impressed by Jacqui's powers of intuition if not
her timing, Bronwyn smiled weakly at her friend. "Hello
yourself, Jacqui."  Suddenly, the reason behind the girl's
suddenly greatly enhanced perceptions came to Bronwyn.  

Smiling slyly, she said "You must have gone a whole lot
further sexually last night than you ever have before." She
had decreased the strength of the inhibition that she had
imposed on Marcus in preparation for last night.  Enough so he
could press his suit a little harder, but not so much that he
wouldn't take "no" for an answer if it came to that.  Still,
Bronwyn had not expected much to come of that. She'd *thought*
she knew Jacqui well enough to predict how far the girl was
ready to go with her fellow.  "Well, you sure surprised me. 
So, tell me.  Did you have sex with him?"  She did not think
she'd reduced the inhibition that far, but Jacqui could be a
very inventive little minx when she was turned on, as Bronwyn
well knew.

A smug smile lit the lovely face.  "That is for me to know,
Bonnie-love."

Grinning at her impudence, Bronwyn shook her head. "No, luv, I
need to know, and please, call me Bronwyn when I am in this
skin.  I know it is hard, but it is also safer." If the girl
had gone all the way with Marcus, Laurie needed to know now so
they could determine if Jacqui had gotten pregnant.

"Thank you."  Bronwyn raised an brow in silent demand and
Jacqui gave in with a smile.  "We didn't go all the way.  I,
uh, gave him fella... umm fella...."  frustration at being
unable to remember the technical term set off Jacqui's temper. 
"Oh hell, I sucked him off." she blurted.

Amused at her embarrassment, Bronwyn hid her smile behind her
teacup.  "Oh did you?  Enjoyed it, too, didn't you?" Jacqui's
angry flush deepened into a blush.  "Did you swallow?" she
asked knowingly.

Coloring even more brightly at the blunt question, Jacqui
answered anyway.  "It wasn't bad.  And what else could I do
with it?  I might have gotten his sperm all over my dress,
otherwise."  then she relaxed and giggled impishly.  "He
squealed like a pig when I brought him off." she offered
conspiratorially.

"A man usually does, dear, when a lovely woman gives him that
gift.  Particularly the first time a woman does it for him.  I
am sure Jack would have, too."

All the color drained from the girl's face.  "That's something
I may never know, Bronwyn.  Jack never experienced that, and
now, he may not ever get the chance."  Taking a deep breath,
she pressed on.  "Do you . . . do you know . . . everything? 
What my Mom did to me?  What she did to Jack?"

Solemnly, Bronwyn nodded.  "Are you better about it, now? 
About your Mom?"

Her good mood dissolved, and Jacqui nodded dejectedly as she
poured more tea.  "Mostly, anyway.  I still wish she hadn't
done it.  I wish I understood why she felt she had to do that
to me.  What she hoped to gain by it." her voice fell to a
whisper.  "What it was about Jack that was not good enough for
her."

"Nothing!" Bronwyn's strident voice cut through Jacqui's
depression.  "There was nothing wrong with you as Jack.  You
must never think that what she did was any kind of unthinking,
accidentally cruel whim on your Mother's part when she
Transformed you."

"Then why, Bronwyn?  Why take my whole life, turn it inside
out and leave me in a world that I did not ask for"  Why? 
What right did she have to take away the life I knew and
wanted?"

Compassionately, Bronwyn put her hand across to hold Jacqui's. 
"Your Mother is a member of a group that I also belong to,
Jacqui.  We call ourselves the Sisterhood.  We sensed great
power in you, and a great potential to use that power for
good.  Therefore, because we thought the Transformation was
the best way" and actually, the only way, she admitted to
herself, "for all concerned, we took the responsibility upon
ourselves. We elected to use this specific Transformation to
expose you that power and to help motivate you to learn to
wield the power yourself."

"So, like my Mom, you see nothing wrong with what you had her
do to me, Bronwyn?  Well, you can tell yourselves that what
you did was for the best, or  that it was not an unkind or
unfair thing to do to me.  You can go ahead and tell
yourselves all that; just don't expect me to agree with you. 
You took away my dream.  I wanted to play college ball.  I had
a promise from the coach at BC that he would offer me a
scholarship to play big time college basketball there.  Now I
will never know if I would have been good enough to make it. 
I will always wonder, and regret not having had my chance."

Of course, Bronwyn knew all this.  Laurel had cried herself to
sleep in her arms every night for weeks, furiously berating
herself for doing her duty to the Sisterhood.  Bronwyn simply
did not understand it.  How could any caring person want
basketball more than having the power to help people?  "Seems
like a small dream to me, compared to what you could become
and to the things you could accomplish with your life now that
you have been Transformed." Bronwyn said in a matter of fact
tone that suggested Jacqui should stop whining.  "Besides, you
are going to college in any case.  The Sisterhood is paying
all your expenses to any college you want to attend.  Staying
in town to go to school was purely your own choice, you know."

"But it was my dream, Bronwyn.  With the emphasis on the *my*
and the emphasis on the *was*." Jacqui's voice was hoarse with
suppressed emotion.  "Even when I do manage to undo this . .
this change, nothing will be the same as it would have been or
could have been.  Even if I change back to the way I was, to
the age I was at the moment of Transformation, who will
remember Jack Donovan then?  Who will offer him a scholarship
to play ball?  Will your Sisterhood willingly expend the power
necessary to give me back the life history I did not actually
get a chance to live during the years I was a female?  It is
one thing to change records so that a John becomes a
Jacqueline who has mostly the same history as the pre-
Transformed male. I bet it is another thing entirely to invent
a whole lifetime of records and memories for the rest of the
world."  She stopped to look at Bronwyn and saw the grudging
agreement in her expression.  "Thought so.  And another thing,
this doing-good-for-others thing of yours.  If that is your
dream, I accept it - for you, but it wasn't and isn't my
dream.  I am not sure I even have dreams anymore.  I don't
want yours and I can't have mine."

The girl understood far more than Bronwyn had expected or
wanted her to understand.  The Sisterhood could accomplish
many things, but what Jacqui would need to become Jack again
and play in a major college program was simply too complex a
conjuring for them to undertake with any hope of complete
success.  And complete success is precisely what they would
have to achieve because even the smallest mistake would lead
to questions he could not answer.  The Sisterhood would also
risk discovery if they took such precipitous action on his
behalf.  He was correct.  There was nothing they could do that
would  give back what she claimed they had taken from her. 
Claimed, nothing, Bronwyn thought bitterly.  They *had* stolen
her dreams because the Sisterhood, in its arrogance, had
weighed Jack's dream against their need and found the dream
wanting.  "We have wronged you terribly, then.  You still
intend to reverse the Transformation at the earliest
opportunity?"

A sad bleak look.  "I don't know, Bronwyn.  My feelings on
Jack versus Jacqui run the whole spectrum.  Most times, my
answer is not only yes, but *HELL YES*, Transform me back -
yesterday!  But as we just discussed, the dream that drove me
most of my high school life is lost to me. When I think of it
that way,  I just feel like saying "the hell with it".  I will
have to start essentially from scratch in either case.  Then,
there are those rare times, like immediately after making love
with you, for example. In those moments, I actually think that
there is a chance that my life as Jacqui might be even better
than my life as an un-Transformed Jack could have been.  And I
hate to admit this - because I detest such weakness in myself
- there are those other times?" Jacqui lifted her brows at
Bronwyn as her voice dropped even lower, "Those very lonely,
scary dark times when I feel there is no place in this world
for Jack or Jacqui, anymore - times when I just want it all to
end."

"END?!?!?" Fear clogged Bronwyn's throat and made the words a
squeak.  "As in the *final* end?" The girl nodded jerkily. 
"Oh, Jacqui, you mustn't. It would destroy your Mother.  She
was not alone in this.  It was not her decision alone to
Transform you and then limit your options so severely
afterwards. We of the Sisterhood did it with her; *we* asked
her to Transform you; *we* told her that it was the correct
thing to do. *We* told her to craft the spell so that only
you, with the fullness of your own power, could undo the
Transformation.  If you . . " Bronwyn had to brace herself
before she could even say it aloud, "do yourself harm over
this, because of what *we* asked her to do to you, it will
kill her.  She is a healer."

"I know that.  It is what stopped me the one time I came close
to . . doing it, and why I won't do it in the future.  I love
her.  She is my Mum."

In a very quiet voice.  "She likes hearing that from you very
much, Jacqui."

"I know that, and I try to say it to her often.  It is just
that sometimes, I can't get past the bitterness and the hurt."

"Hurting goes both ways, luv.  You are both healers.  Perhaps
you could heal each other?"

"I don't know, Bronwyn.  Maybe.  After yesterday, I think we
can.  I have the entire, long summer to decide."

You have the summer now that you have forced your Mother to
set aside her damnable plan to sacrifice her life so you could
have your male life back, Bronwyn thought gratefully. "So what
will you do?  About the magic and mastering the Transformation
Spell?"

"Continue with it as best I can.  As you know, I am not going
away for college, so I can continue taking instruction with
Mother.  Maybe I will figure it out sooner or later.  When I
do, I want the option of being able to act upon the option." 
Then, Jacqui remembered the question she wanted answered
immediately after she penetrated Bronwyn's disguise as Bonnie. 
"So what happens now that I know the truth about you?"

"What do you mean, luv?"

"I will miss Bonnie.  She was my only real friend.  Is she, or
rather, are you going to just disappear from my life, now?"

Bronwyn was on her feet in a flash and pulled the girl into a
tight embrace.  "Goddess above, what an awful idea.  Bonnie or
Bronwyn, I love you, Jacqui.  You are important to me.  I will
always be with you.  In fact, now that you are strong enough
to see through my disguise, I can undertake to help your Mom
in your training.  There are some aspects of the craft that I
am much better at than she is."

"But what about . . ." she broke off, embarrassed to even
continue the question.

Bronwyn arched back so she could see into the girl's eyes.
"What about. . . what, dear?"
Blushing furiously, but refusing to be deterred from something
so important to her.  "What about sex. . . I mean, making
love?"

The light went on in Bronwyn's mind.  She pulled the girl back
to her and kissed her fiercely.  When they were both
breathless and heatedly aroused, she broke the kiss and rasped
"Does *that* answer your question, you silly girl?  I love you
and I want you, and the only way to keep me out of your bed is
to kick me out.  Got that?"

A foolish grin lit Jacqui's face.  "Got it, and after that
kiss, I have something else, too.  A burning need.  Care to
join me upstairs to stoke that fire a little before we put it
out?"  She held out a hand which the older woman
enthusiastically took in her own.  "It will be interesting to
find out if an older lady like you can keep up with me." she
added saucily.

Bronwyn's mouth fell open in stunned amazement.  "Why you
little . . ."  Her mouth snapped shut as an evil sparkle lit
her eyes.  "Well, I can tell it is time to start teaching you
things that Bonnie was afraid would scare you off screaming to
your Mommy.  Come along, Miss Smartie Britches.  I am going to
indoctrinate you into the more sexy aspects of spanking. *You*
need one."  And then Bronwyn began to drag a suddenly
uncertain Jacqui upstairs by her ear.

1997


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