Tales of the Season: Kendra's Story       by: Tigger        © 1999, All Rights Reserved

 

Part 9

An incredibly intense two weeks later, Jane maneuvered her rental car through the tree-lined streets of Kenneth's hometown of record. She periodically checked the rearview mirror to make sure that the van with Darryl and Ruth was still close at hand.

The days leading up to this little drive had been very demanding. Darla, Marie and Jane had spent hours every day drilling Kenneth on the finer points of being Kendra. Every evening either Sandy or Caro or both had come over for two hours of make up and haircare lessons. Even Brenda Franson had gotten involved in the act, spending both Sunday afternoons refining the girl's gestures and movements, and fitting her with specially selected outfits designed to enhance Kendra's boyish figure.

The results were spectacular; Jane smiled, stealing a glance at her ward. She was rigged out in a version of the "senior student meets the train" outfit - a light grey-green dress, complete with three petticoats for fullness, hosiery, two-inch pumps, a hat and matching gloves. Marie had thought the second and third petticoat were overkill, but Jane had overruled her on that score. Sheila would be ecstatic at the excessively prim and prissy look of her feminized son.

Jane's former student had kept Sheila's house under surveillance so that they would know when she'd returned. They also knew where she'd been - at the old house in the city where she and Kenneth had lived while her husband had still been alive. During her time there, a young man had been observed entering the house, but not leaving it. Instead, the watcher had reported the departure of a very bedraggled-looking and upset female in a very short skirt and incredibly high heels who limped away from the house just before Sheila herself left for the airport to return here. The house appeared to be empty following the departure of the primary subject.

Ruth and Jane were convinced that the precipitous move to this town was part of Sheila's overall plan. It made the threat posed by Ruth seem all the more real. That she hadn't sold her old house probably meant she would return there to her old life once her aims for Kenneth had been achieved. A life that evidently still involved forced feminization of young men and then driving them out into the public to face humiliation or worse.

*That unspeakable . . . unspeakable. . .* For all her classical training, Jane Thompson, Schoolmistress, could not come up with a sufficiently vile epithet to describe what she thought of that female.

"Easy does it, Aunt Jane." Kendra's soft voice chided as she touched a gloved finger to Jane's white knuckled hand gripping the steering wheel. "It will be fine." she smiled under the incredibly long lashes Sandy had spent an hour applying, one lash at a time, the last night before the trio had left home. They'd been in town now for three days, staying with Judge Ruth, waiting and getting ready for the final act in this horror drama.

On the bright side, Ruth and Kenneth/Kendra had hit it off famously. At first, Ruth had been concerned that the boy would blame her for all that she'd also been an unwitting pawn in his mother's plan. Kenneth was too smart for that, and besides, he'd seen just how badly that particular "pawn" wanted Sheila's blood. Well, this pawn was about to become a queen and wreak havoc on Sheila's little war game of strategy.

A soft smile crossed Jane's tense features as the memories of those first few hours at Ruth's home. Poor Ruth had never had children of her own and was quite at a loss as to what to say to the teen, so she'd started talking about her career both as a lawyer and as a judge. To Jane's utter bemusement, her ward had been fascinated. Soon, the pair of them had become all but inseparable as the young man constantly pumped the older woman for every bit of information about her career.

"This is the street, Aunt Jane. Third house down on the left."

Jane parked the car at the curb and turned to face the beautifully made up young man. "We don't have to do this, you know. You are welcome to stay with me as Kenneth. No one will think the less of you for not going in there like this."

Kendra smiled grimly. "I would, Aunt Jane. I know this is going to be difficult, but not because of all this." she said running her gloved hand down her dress. "This is just a game, that's all. Playing it doesn't really change anything essential in me and it definitely doesn't threaten me. With her," and she inclined her head toward the house occupied by his mother, "It would not have been a game. She truly wanted to change me - mentally, physically and permanently. What makes this so tough is that she's my mother, and I can't find it in myself to love her. In fact, I really believe that I hate her." Kendra's voice hitched and Jane fished for a tissue.

"Calm down. We don't have time to fix your makeup. If you need a good cry, do it after we leave, okay? Damned overemotional males." Jane muttered, just loud enough so she knew she'd be heard.

It worked. A chuckle bubbled up from Kendra, who then nodded. "Thanks. I am under control now."

"Is it show time, young lady?" Jane asked one last time.

"Lets do it, Aunt Jane."

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

Sheila Roberts was already thinking about taking another sanity-trip back to the city. There just wasn't anything worth doing in this backwards burg. Certainly none of her more . . .esoteric pleasures were to be had around here.

She thought about Horace, the male slave she was currently training back home to be the slut maid she had named Whorish.

And about what she wanted to do to him the next time he attended her in her private little dungeon.

Sheila had just read about this person who performed voluntary surgeries neutering male humans. Sheila shuddered in barely suppressed sexual arousal at the thought of watching the scalpel slide oh-so-very-delicately into that ugly sack of skin. Yes, Whorish was going to "volunteer" for that little operation when she got back home just so Sheila could watch and see it done. Maybe she could even get the man to do it to her slave without using any anesthetic. After all, didn't she have the goods on him? What was a couple of useless balls of male flesh compared to going to prison and losing everything?

Sheila was getting god awful tired of this place. She'd only moved here because good old Ruth presided over the local court that seemed to be a regular first stop for so many of Jane Thompson's bad little boys. Bad little boys who, by everything she had been able to learn, found themselves sent to Jane to be changed into girls. Another ripple of arousal lanced into Sheila. Just how far did Jane go in turning bad boys into good little girls? Maybe Jane would like to know the address of that man who provided the neutering service. Better yet, she'd just keep that bit of information as a surprise for her old sorority sister. It would be Sheila's little contribution to the program when she ultimately took her rightful place as Jane's partner.

Sharing a drink with Barbara Nash at that reunion two years ago had been the best piece of luck she'd ever had. That was when she'd found out about what Jane was doing with herself these days. Some discreet inquiries by a very expensive investigation service had turned up the connection to Ruth. From there, it had been child's play to buy a house here in this town, find and bribe that clerk who liked the ponies too much for his paycheck and build that apparently damning file on her "crime-hardened" son.

*How would that clerk look in skirts and petticoats?* Sheila wondered. She certainly had enough on him to win his "willing" compliance to a little playtime. She'd even worry about all that safe and sane crap when she played with him. At least at first, anyway.

*Losing your focus, Sheila* she chided herself. As to her son, well, the only thing hardened about that boy was his resolve not to let her turn him into the girl she really wanted him to be. Just like his father in that regard. Oh, they'd both played along with her at times - Halloween, costume parties, special evenings from her husband, but neither of those damned males had ever taken her and the transformation seriously. She'd tried very hard with Kenneth after his father died, but he was just too certain of himself for her to make any headway in her goal.

Until she'd learned of Jane and her little alternative to jail for the bad boys. Who'd have thought Jane would be the one to create something like that. Oh, she'd helped Sheila that time at school, when they'd first dressed old what-his-name up as a streetwalker for the sorority costume party, but for her to come up with something like that operation?

Amazing. Well, Jane had selfishly kept the fun all to herself long enough. Kenneth was by way of a test to see just how good dear little Jane was at her craft. If she was good enough, then she'd be getting a new partner in Sheila or else. Sheila shuddered in almost orgasmic delight at the thought of the file the investigator put together, along with the names of the boys who'd been in her keeping, appearing on the desks of eight major gossip columnists, and into the hands of five tabloids and three talk show hosts in forty eight hours.

And if Jane didn't succeed with Kenneth, then she'd have to pay for her failure. She wondered how Jane would look on Hard Copy, or how her boys would feel about being hounded by the Springer Show?

Sheila cursed as the annoying buzz of her doorbell intruded on her lovely dream of skirted little boys scurrying around in fear, doing her bidding.

She could not believe her eyes when she opened the door. "Jane? Jane Thompson?" *What the hell was she doing here? And who was the young blond in the 1940's church dress? I didn't know anyone even made hats like that thing anymore.*

"Hello, Sheila. May we come in?" Jane asked. Sheila couldn't think of any reason why not and stood aside to let the two women enter.

She guided them into her ornate living room and bid them to make themselves comfortable. "Would you like some tea? Some coffee?"

"Some tea would be wonderful." Jane answered sweetly. "Why don't we have this little darling prepare it for us while we talk? She won't have any difficulty finding the makings?"

"N.. no. . I keep everything except the milk on the counter beside the stove." Sheila answered, still wondering what the hell was going on. She had to be careful. She couldn't afford to anger Jane. She might decide to drop Kenneth from her program and that would mean she'd have to call Ruth. Sheila had to prevent that from happening for as long as she possibly could.

"Dear?" Jane turned to her protege. "Please prepare a light tea for three? I would also like you to serve."

"Yes, Ms. Thompson." The girl actually curtseyed, Sheila thought in wonder, before moving gracefully into the kitchen. For just a moment, she wondered if Jane's companion was one of her boys, but immediately discarded the thought. Too feminine entirely. Sheila herself had never managed to get a male to pass that well, so surely little Jane Thompson couldn't. *Too bad those heels aren't higher. The girl has great legs and a cute butt.*

"What brings you out here, Jane? Aren't you a long way from your school?"

"Not so you'd notice, Sheila. As you know, my program involves forcing my pupils to face and come to grips with their gentler sides by making them live that way until they do."

The smile that lit Sheila's face was one part hunger, one part triumph and one part something else much darker and evil. "Yes, I know. You were our last hope, you know."

"I could tell." Jane replied equably. "As to our purpose here, Some," and Jane put steel into her voice, "of our students resist and require much stronger measures to break their silly macho self image. Sometimes, we have to make them face their worst nightmares before they see the wisdom of compliance and submission. For some young men, that is being made to appear in public as a male, but seriously feminized - a true sissy. Others have to face the constant threat of exposure by putting them in tenuous circumstances where their slightest miscue would give them away, knowing that I will abandon them to their fate if they fail to carry off the masquerade."

Jane was lying, but Sheila wouldn't know that her boys were *never* truly in danger of being truly exposed. This was, as Jane well knew, the other woman's greatest fantasy since she'd first read of Victorian petticoat discipline almost twenty years ago. "I see." she breathed, her breathing becoming noticeably shallow and quick.

"Yes, and some very rare, hard core, testosterone challenged male animals require even harsher treatment."

"How are you coming with Kenneth, Jane? Is he giving you a hard time?"

The smile Jane gave the other woman was just a bit triumphant. "Oh, he's become quite the she, darling, a true sweetheart. He was very difficult the first few days, but we've got that turned around." Jane's voice became low and confidential. "You should have seen the look on his face when he realized that first shampoo was heavily laced with a bleaching agent. For some reason, being made into a blond just destroys the little dears. Must be some silly male stereotype."

Sheila closed her eyes against the rush that image induced in her. "You know, Jane, I am quite jealous of what you are doing. In many ways, it has long been the type of work I wanted to do with my life."

*I am sure of that, you amoral strumpet.* Jane growled deep in her mind. "Well, I have been very lucky, Sheila. I mean, my work is deeply . . ." Jane let her lips curl into an intentionally sensual smile, "satisfying." she purred throatily.

The other woman literally squirmed in her seat, and Jane could see a fine sheen of perspiration forming on her upper lip and forehead. "Oh, I can believe that." Sheila breathed.

"Yes, verrrry satisfying. Of course, a great deal of that satisfaction comes from overcoming each challenge posed by one of my girlie-boys, from finally crushing their pathetically overblown adolescent male egos so that I can then rebuild them according to my own _personal_ requirements and standards." Jane moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and winked salaciously at Sheila.

A sharp, visible shudder shook Sheila's body, her eyes and mouth closed tight. *My God*, Jane thought in disbelief, *Did she just have an orgasm?*

"I would just _love_ to dedicate my life to that kind of plea. . uummm. . . work. Have you ever thought of taking a partner?"

Jane was saved from having to answer by the timely return of Kendra carrying the tea service on a silver tray. Deftly, she set the tray down on the small coffee table and sat down. "Shall I pour, Ms. Thompson?" She asked in her soft, deceptive voice.

"Please do, dear." Jane said as she turned back to Sheila. "Do you still take yours with sugar and a squeeze of lemon?"

"Yes, I do." was the curt reply. *Not happy at having your little opening ignored, are you, Sheila? Tough!*

"Your tea, Ms. Roberts." Kendra offered the saucer and cup, filled with the steaming brew.

"Thank you, . . .Jane?" Sheila's voice had a hard edge to it.

"Yes, Sheila?" Jane smiled as she accepted her own cup of tea.

"I cannot properly thank your young lady since you have not introduced us." Sheila's tones were chidingly reproving.

Her eyes all wide with feigned surprise, Jane set her cup down. "Oh, _do_ forgive me, please, Sheila. I just never thought you would need introductions."

"And why not?!?" was the sharp return. "She is a guest in my house and I have never met her before in my life. Of course I need an introduction."

"Well, if you insist." Jane said before turning to Kendra and ordered sternly. "Kendra, make your curtsey to your Mother."

Kendra stood and made the classic movement with her petticoated skirt - very well, too, Jane noted with pride - then remained standing, head slightly bowed, hands clasped in front of her, her legs straight and together. Jane almost laughed at how well Kenneth was presenting Kendra to his Mother. The picture of classically demure, slightly embarrassed girlhood.

"That's really you, Kendra?" Sheila whispered, a fierce, not altogether clean light burning her translucent eyes.

"Yes, Mother." the girl-boy answered in a soft, sweet voice.

"Didn't I tell you, Sheila, that some of my boys require particularly harsh rites of passage when they refuse to submit to the inevitability of the feminization? In this case, Kendra finds herself forced to function as a female in the outside world, instead of the relative safety of my home, knowing that the least misstep will have disastrous consequences." Jane's voice dropped back into the "two-girls-sharing-a-confidence tones. "But the harshest lesson of all is having to present herself to her own Mother. Quite devastating to the dear girl. Isn't it, Kendra??

The girl's eyes dropped even lower as she avoided looking at either of the two older women. "It is really awful," she responded, letting just a hint of a sob crack her voice, "You didn't have to do this. I was learning." she accused.

Jane had been paying more attention to her old sorority sister than she had to Kendra when she made that little revelation. Sheila was unable to conceal her delight at her son's transformation and complete humiliation. It was time to dangle the bait a little closer.

"Not nearly quickly enough," Jane retorted with all the hauteur of a Regency Dame, "At least you weren't before you found yourself out and about in your lovely skirts. I will admit that things began improving as soon as you knew that we would not return to my house until you made _significant_ progress towards your inevitable girlhood. In fact, Kendra-darling, let's demonstrate for your mother just how well you have or have not learned your lessons."

For the next fifteen minutes, Jane put Kendra through a carefully choreographed display of feminine movements, gestures and behaviors. She made her sit, stand, glide about the room, simulate entering and leaving a car in a short, very tight skirt, powder her nose and refresh her lipstick and a myriad of other, more subtle examples of the "total girl".

"Excellent. My, Kendra, but aren't you quite the sweet, polite little girl, now?" Sheila cooed and was delighted at seeing a red flush color her feminized son's face.

Jane saw Kendra color rise, too, but she knew that it was rage coloring her ward's face and not humiliation as Sheila was assuming. *Don't blow it darling. Time for phase two.* Jane thought.

"I have been trying, Ma'am." Kendra offered submissively. Jane wondered if the poor dear was choking on her obsequious persona.

"And very well, too. I must say, Jane, that this is definitely an improvement over the rowdy young brute I sent to you. And what else have you planned to help my poor boy over his unacceptably male natures?"

"Oh, I have some plans for _her_," Jane said, emphasizing the feminine pronoun and bringing a broad smile to Sheila's face, "Some she knows about, some she doesn't. For example, she will be appearing at a cotillion that will be held near my home dressed as one of the old time debutantes. Of course, she will be expected to dance with anyone who asks her."

"Oh, how delightful. Dancing with boys? In a lovely white formal?"

"Just so." Jane said equably. "Dancing the waltz, tightly pressed against a strong male body is an excellent way to suppress those male natures you're so concerned about, Sheila. And more importantly, our little Kendra knows that failure to be perfectly sweet and biddable means more such experiences in her life until she does."

"More boys? Maybe having to go steady with one?" Sheila asked, her eyes alight with pleasure.

"Dates are likely. Going steady is only a last resort if she truly displeases me." Jane turned a hard glare at her protege. "Young boys do expect certain . . .. favors from their steadies these days, don't they, Kendra? Isn't that why that poor girl was dragged into the boys' lavatory at school?"

The ruddy flush of fury on Kendra's face deepened, and for just one second, Jane was afraid she might have gone just one step too far with that last remark. *Please, don't lose that control of yours, now - not when we're so very close.* she begged silently.

"As you say, Aunt Jane." Kendra finally got out, her voice harsh with the effort to control his fury.

 

Part 10

*Time for phase three,* Jane decided, *but do I dare leave him alone with her as furious as just being in the same room with this woman has made him?* She contemplated that for a few moments, pretending to glare at the still red-faced girl standing between Sheila and herself. *There's no other choice. Only Kendra can take the woman to the next step. We need her too excited to remain cautious.*

"Sheila, we will have to be going if we are to catch our plane and be home in time to pretty up little Kendra for her night out with the boys. May I use your powder room? It is a long drive to the airport."

"Of course. It's just down the hall over there."

Jane rose and then looked down at Kendra. "Be a good girl for your Mother, Kendra. I will be right back."

Moving quickly to the small bathroom, Jane closed the door and pulled the earphone to her miniature receiver to her ear. Fortunately, the tiny transmitter hidden on Kendra's person was working perfectly.

"So, I have won at last, Kenneth." Jane heard Sheila's self-satisfied tones in her ear, remembering at the last minute to check the other device hidden in her suit jacket. Her receiver was also attached to a small tape recorder in case the equipment in the van failed.

"I guess you have, Mother." was the patently male response.

"I told you I would, miss, and don't use that crude male voice around me ever again."

"You wouldn't have won without that pack of lies and false records you put into that cursed file, or with that Judge of yours lying for you." Kendra accused.

"No one else needs to know that those records are all forgeries. As a Juvenile, your records are sealed. No one will know they weren't true for your stay at Jane's, and then they will be returned to me and destroyed without a trace. Only Jane, Judge Ruth and I will ever know they were fakes."

"So that means that Jane was in on your little conspiracy, too?"

"Of course she was." Sheila said heartily as Jane's fury flared at yet one more malicious lie, "You are really becoming quite the stereotypical dumb blond, Kendra. I gave her those files in case you did something stupid like try to escape. Jane would have been able to use those records to get the cops to bring you back. Only the order sending you to Jane's lovely little delinquents' home was real. And I *thought* I told you to stop speaking to me in that disgusting masculine voice. You are NOT a man or even a boy now, nor will you ever be again!"

"Yes, Ma'am." was the more softly inflected response.

"You have forced me to tell Jane how you just misbehaved," Sheila said in exaggeratedly disappointed tones. "But, I am sure she will find a suitable punishment for your insolence. Perhaps she will make you ride home with one of the boys after the cotillion."

"She wouldn't do that!" Was the horrified reply.

"Oh, but I am sure she would." Jane could hear the smirk in Sheila's voice. "In fact, I am going to insist that she do just that. Hopefully, she knows a real Don Juan-type for you. Oh *HO*, but you don't like that idea, do you, Miss??!?"

"He'll find out." was the soft, tear-choked reply. "He'll find out that I am not really a girl. . . .at least down there."

The laugh that came through the earphone made Jane's blood freeze. "Why, that won't be a problem for long, darling, because as soon as you are finished with Jane's little charm school, we will say good bye to good old Kenneth for good. I will have you back in skirts within an hour of Jane releasing you. Then, as punishment for resisting me for so long, I am taking you to a doctor I know of down in Mexico. You will be a girl *every* where within the year and you will never have to worry about being found out as a boy 'down there', again."

"That can't be legal. I am still a minor. They can only do that to boys who get badly hurt . . . down there." Jane could hear the hard swallow.

"So what? There is nothing that cannot be accomplished if you have enough money. Until then, however, I suspect you will have to learn what most girls do when faced with an amorous male trying to get into their panties. Better learn to like using your mouth on a man, little girl, otherwise, they might be tempted to seek . . .other pleasures."

There was a pause in the exchange until Jane heard Sheila speak again. "It will be a suitable posthumous revenge against your father, don't you think, for having resisted my intention to feminize him all those years. Having his family line die out, -because his son is no longer able to father children. Do you know what the best part of all this is, Kendra-darling?"

"No, tell me, please."

"Why, I am going to be doing this all the time from now on. Jane will have no choice but to take me into her little group. Only, I will want to make those nasty little boys into delicious little girls - permanently. Just like I will you."

"You are a sick woman, Mother."

"Sick? Don't be silly, Kendra, I am not sick. I am just a woman who knows what she wants and who knows precisely how to get it. You, however, are a very naughty little girl. I think you had better find something to practice sucking on between now and that cotillion, darling. I can practically guarantee you will need to know how."

Jane had heard enough. She walked back into the sitting room to see Sheila looming over a cowering Kendra. Jane wondered if that emotion was entirely an act on Kendra's part. Jane suspected that there was a good deal of real fear and revulsion coursing through her student. True evil does that to good people.

Sheila heard her coming and spun around to face Jane. "You have avoided me long enough, Jane. What you've done with this _girl_ is truly remarkable. I want to join you in your work . . .maybe eventually open a second house under my supervision, say in Chicago or perhaps California."

*The woman is has absolutely no conscience. She has just spent five minutes threatening and terrorizing her own child and she is almost giddy about it.* Jane thought disgustedly. *How could I ever have thought of that miserable piece of human excrement as a friend?*

"You really think so? Well, I will have to give that a good deal of thought before I make such a major change of direction."

Something dark and perhaps evil, flashed in the other woman's eyes. "I really must insist, Jane dear." Her voice all cool, confident persuasion. "I just know I could add so much to their eventual development into fine young women. So much better than being disgusting men."

Jane gave every indication of considering the proposal, but was in fact watching the tense anticipation grow steadily on Sheila's face. "Well, Sheila, I confess I never thought to take on a partner. Besides, my methods and purposes are probably different from yours, and I am not certain we would be compatible either way. But for the sake of argument, whatever do you have in mind for my "girls" - what are you so certain you could _add_ that I would want in my program?"

Sheila might have been giving a sales pitch to the board of directors at a major corporation. "Why, I have _vision_, Jane. I can see what we could make of this thing of yours, with just a little drive on our part. We could practically franchise your process, have houses like yours all over the country, turning disgusting males into perfectly lovely young women. . .or almost women."

"Do you really think there is all that big a market for such services, Sheila? After all, we are not talking about a mainstream program here. I cannot imagine that most American fathers would see the value of putting their son in skirts."

"Oh, I am sure that we will be very busy. If not, we can go out and get students if that is required. So many boys living on the street today. Who'd miss one or two along the way? We'll consider them research and development, or product demonstrations."

"We're just going to go out and pluck young men off the streets and spirit them away to our little Victorian houses of transformation?" Jane was absolutely enthralled by this woman. How could she just *say* such things and seem so matter of fact; how could she sound so eminently reasonable about this abominable concept? "And you think that street hardened young toughs will simply fall in line the way my boys have in the past? My students have always had some type of motivation to comply with my demands - be that jail or expulsion from school or forced enrollment in some type of military school. We wouldn't have that to hold over such young men."

"Oh pooh." Sheila said airily. "Of course we will have something on them. They'll need food, won't they? They'll hate pain, won't they? They comply or they don't eat. They submit, or they will be hurt. I have become quite skilled with the single tailed whip in recent years, Jane." A thoroughly frightening smile darkened Sheila's features as she chuckled softly. "My, I almost hope that they *don't* comply and submit - at least not at the beginning."

Jane struggled not to let her revulsion show in her face or her voice. "I see. Sheila, I have always promised that my young men would not be permanently harmed or marked while in my keeping."

"Have to change with the times, Jane dear. Trust me, hearing the little darlings scream will make your juices flow. A wonderful rush. Not only that, but I was just reading about this man who fixes things for people like your young ladies, very effectively, too. I think a merger between him and us would be highly beneficial to both parties. And especially beneficial to all the young hooligans we can get our hands on as we remove the root cause of their problems once and for all, at their masculine root. Maybe I will start collecting their testicles as mementos of their time with us." The last came out on a dreamy sigh of anticipatory pleasure.

*I don't believe this!!* Jane's mind screamed. *She _has_ to be talking about that bastard who was brought up on charges for performing male castrations without a medical degree or medical supervision. I just read about him this morning over breakfast. And she really _is_ drooling! God, I don't believe anyone could be that mad or that evil.*

"But Sheila, there will be older students. One reason they assist me with the newer students because it is in their best interests, although late in the program they begin to see the benefits. I don't think any of them would willingly support us if they knew about *that* idea."

"Don't be naive, Jane, of *course* they will still help us because we will leave them no other choice. Otherwise they will be made to regret their obstinance very, very much."

"Naturally," Sheila continued, completely oblivious to the horror on the faces of her two guests, "we'd have to put a stop to taking referrals from Ruth. The legal system isn't ready to accept the rightness of taking that step." Sheila concluded with every sign of rationality that made her all the more frightening to Jane. "But just like the parents we will have to convince using our little R&D projects, once we have evidence of our successes, perhaps even the politicians will see the value of such changes."

*She isn't mad.* Jane realized, *I almost wish she was out of her mind because that would be easier to accept than this cold blooded, carefully thought out plan to physically emasculate the young men who are sent to me.*

Holding on to her fury by the barest of margins, Jane tried to answer the other woman. "Well, I will give it every due consideration, but I am disinclined to do anything like that, Sheila. After all, how would I ensure that all my girl-boys get the treatment they truly deserve if someone other than me is overseeing their rehabilitations? Not only that, but the wider the circle of people who know about what I do, the more likely public exposure or a failure becomes."

Sheila's eyes became cold. "Oh, but you really need me as a partner, Ms. Jane Thompson, Victorian Schoolmistress." She said with a strangely frightening calm, almost reasonable voice. "You need me to keep the files I currently have on you and your former students out of the national press.

"Do I *really*, Sheila." Jane's control finally slipped and the full measure of her fury bubbled through, "Do I really?"

Jane moved to the house door and opened it wide. "Jane, come back here, damn you! I am not through with you yet. You do not want to make me angry with you, not while I can put you out of busi . . . . ?" Sheila stopped as she noticed what Jane was doing. "What are . . ?"

Sheila's question was lost as she saw who was entering through the open door. "Ruth??!?"

"Hello, Sheila. Fancy meeting you here. Hello again, Jane, Kendra."

"Hi, Aunt Ruth." Kendra responded, a smile on her lovely face for the first time since she walked into her Mother's house. "Did we get it all?"

"Every self incriminating word, darling. The wire worked perfectly." Ruth affirmed. "Darryl is in the van right now making duplicates. Good job."

"What is the meaning of this?" Sheila hissed. "What are you doing here?!?"

"Putting a stop to your abuse of this young man who, in the eyes of the law, is still a child." Ruth said in a low, dangerous tone, "And to end your lying manipulation of Jane and me for your own perverse purposes."

"You cannot prove anything." Sheila blustered.

"Oh, but we can. First of all, I have in my possession that file you gave to Jane along with all of your correspondence with her. You know the file, Sheila. It's the one that could get you charged with about fifteen counts of forgery and twice that many counts of falsifying legal records since you admitted to forgery when you gloated at Ken here, confessing that you made them up. Oh, and before you start claiming your word against ours that the tape is real? Jane is a witness since she watched you from the powder room."

The other woman seemed to shrink momentarily before something brought her back. "You can't charge me." she retorted confidently, "Charging me would bring Jane's little enterprise out into the public light. It would destroy her silly little charm school. Besides, I will guarantee that result by releasing my records on her mini-reform school to the press and the tabloids. You can't threaten me. You don't *dare* charge me let alone bring me to trial."

Kendra stood and stared at the woman who was his/her mother. Jane, doing her level best to keep her own fury under control, saw the deadly rage and intent flashover in those grey eyes. "Kendra, no! Don't do that." Jane barked as she reached over to grab her student's arm and pull him back, out of reach of his mother.

The moment's respite helped, letting Kendra regain her composure. Nodding his thanks for the timely respite, Kendra turned back to his mother. "Trust me, mother, if you don't do exactly what Judge Ruth tells you to do, I will go to the police right now, dressed as I am, and press charges against you. Are you so stupid as to think I would let you get away with what you just proposed to do to me and countless other guys? In your dreams, you sick fool."

"No, it would be your word against mine. None of them would dare corroborate your claims. Jane has too much to lose."

Jane stepped up and stood beside Kendra. "Perhaps I do have a great deal to lose, Sheila, but I will be right there beside Ken every step of the way. At the police station, at the arraignment and at court on the witness stand. In fact, Ruth already has my signed, sealed deposition detailing my entire operation and in particular, my dealings with you to use against you should you ever pull any more of your nasty little tricks with your son or with me."

"You can't do this to me. We could have had so much together, Jane, playing with those boys together."

"You really don't understand, do you? You are blinded by your own evil desires and fantasies. What I do to my students, Sheila, I do in order to help my boys grow into fine young *men*. My goal is *always* for them to leave my keeping improved, enhanced, and *never*, in *any* way, diminished by their time with me. Do you think I would continue my school if there was the slightest, most minute chance that a vicious, amoral monster like you might become involved in my work?"

Sheila was becoming agitated now, tears wear forming in her eyes. "Its not fair!" she shouted. "I just wanted to be in on the fun, too. After all, I showed you all about this game first. You should have to share with me in return."

For a few moments, Jane could only stare at the other woman. "Fun?," she whispered hoarsely, "Did you really say 'fun'??" she said, her volume growing with each syllable until her final words were a screech of raw fury.

Before anyone in the room could react, Jane was in an all-consuming rage the like of which she would have sworn was beyond her. She was on the smaller woman in an instant, her hands closing around her antagonist's throat before letting go and buckling Sheila's knees with a vicious backhand slap to the face. Not satisfied with that, Jane pulled her foe to her feet by the hair and slapped her again, this time with a forehand blow that sent Sheila reeling backwards to the floor.

Jane strode over to drag the defeated woman to her feet so she could knock her down again, but was intercepted by Kendra and Ruth, each taking one of her arms and pulling her back.

"Enough, champ." Kendra teased.

"Enough? ENOUGH? Hell no, it's not enough." Jane yelled, still struggling to get free so she could destroy the other woman's evil once and for all, her feet kicking out, trying to reach the face her restrained arms could not. "I haven't even *begun* to share the *fun* with that piece of garbage."

"Calm down, Jane. We've won." Ruth said soothingly even as she pulled with all her strength to pull her friend away from her intended victim. "She can't hurt you or Kenneth anymore without going to jail for a long, long time."

That finally broke through the red hot fury fogging Jane's mind. She relaxed and felt the grips on her arms relax also. Relax, but not release. Just as well, she thought.

"So you want to *play*, do you, Sheila. You STUPID bitch. . .do you want to know what I really do with my young men? Of course you don't. You *want* to think that I *play* with them. Well, let me tell you that *play* doesn't begin to describe what I do to those boys. I have to *break* them, damn your unfeeling, black soul, really shatter them psychologically before I can begin to help them. When you start out with a warped piece of wood, sometimes you have to break it before you can begin to straighten it out again. But you, you damned fool, you sent me your son, who is not warped at all, but rather is as strong, straight and true as a young oak tree."

Jane's voice broke and she felt a comforting squeeze on one of her arms. *Kenneth*, she realized through the haze of her rage, *trying to support me.* "Do you know what happens when you break things, Sheila? They *never* go back together perfectly. That's okay when you start out with something that isn't straight and true to begin with, if in that breaking, you have a chance to make it better, but that wasn't how it was with your son. You tried to make me break a fine, gentle human being for nothing other than your fantasies and pleasures. Only his incredible strength and good nature let him survive what I tried to do to him and come out of it still whole and not warped. And you DARED to USE *ME* to perpetuate that evil."

The grips on her arms immediately tightened, but Jane only shook her head. "I am done, Ruth. Beating her bloody, though satisfying, won't accomplish much and I can't find it in me to kill even a worthless slug like her. I just wish someone would hurt her as badly as she wanted to hurt my boys, but I won't be the one to do it. Someone should do it to her, though, someone really should, but it won't be me." She nodded her head sharply. "No, it won't be me."

The hands holding Jane finally slipped away. "The Hell it won't!" Jane bellowed as she moved too quickly to be stopped and drove a hard right hand directly under Sheila's sternum. The blow had every bit of power Jane could muster behind it and literally drove the other woman careening into the wall where she ignominiously crumpled to the floor, wretching and fighting desperately to get air into her lungs.

Her self-defense teacher would be appalled, Jane mused. No skill, no finesse, no art, but, goodness, it had certainly felt good doing it.

Jane smiled down at the wide-eyed, thoroughly frightened woman with a great deal of satisfaction, even if her knuckles felt like she'd just punched out a brick wall. It was worth it! "Pronounce sentence, Ruth," the calm, controlled Jane had returned from the momentary madness of her fury. "Tell her what happens if she violates her parole, and then lets get out of here."

"Very well. Sheila Roberts. This is what you have to do to avoid being charged with child abuse and multiple counts of forgery and falsification of government records. . ."

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

 

Part 11

Several days later, Jane and her two wards were sitting on Jane's patio, sipping iced tea.

"She'll hate living in that town permanently, you know." Kenneth mused. He still had the long, blond hair, but he had changed in male slacks and a pullover as soon as they'd returned to Ruth's house, and had been out of skirts ever since. "She told me we'd move back once I'd been "reformed"."

"All the better." Jane said with grim satisfaction. "And having her report to that women's shelter for three hours a day and for ten hours every weekend ought to keep her out of too much mischief."

"I knew she was bad, especially when she sent me here with that pack of lies, but I never understood just how truly evil she had become until I had to sit there listening to her plans for me and the other boys who fell into her power." Kenneth mused. "Do you think the threat you and Aunt Ruth hold over her will be enough to keep her off your backs?"

"On one hand, it is almost sad that your Mother is not mad, Kenneth, because there is a chance that someone might be able to help her. However, in regard to your question, I think it is to our advantage that she is sane. Her entire motivation is her own self-interest. The case against her is iron clad so long as you and I are both willing to drop our masquerade and testify against her. She doesn't want to go to prison any more than you wanted to go to that nonexistent boys' home. She'll keep her mouth shut. After all, there are no men to abuse in a women's prison."

Judge Ruth had sentenced Sheila, albeit quite illegally, to twenty-five hours of week of public service until Kenneth reached his twenty fifth birthday. The threat of the depositions, records and tapes were her parole against taking retaliatory action against Jane or Kenneth.

"I know all that, Aunt Jane, but there still is a chance that she will release those records. She may be sane and self interested, just as you say, but I am not sure she is completely rational on the subject of you and me. For me, I don't care, but I worry about all the boys you might not be able to help."

"Don't worry, dear. I'll find a way to help them, whether I can continue in my current fashion or not. But I won't stand by and let her get off without seeing justice done - for you and for me. If need be, I will face her in court."

"As will I."

Darryl gave both Jane and Kenneth a very dirty look. "Aunt Jane, if you were going to punch her lights out, couldn't you have given me a little warning? How am I ever going live it down when I have to tell my grandkids that I missed out on seeing their great step-grandmama play John Wayne?"

"John Wayne? Me??" Jane burbled, highly amused.

"Sure." Darryl replied. "I *heard* everything through Ken's wire, mainly a really loud *thunk* followed by the sound of Sheila tossing her cookies. That "I won't do it - the hell I won't" line is right out of one of his Maureen O'Hara movies. McClintock, I think. And YOU had to do it when I couldn't see it, darn you Aunt Jane!"

"Smile when you say that, pilgrim." Jane retorted in a horrible John Wayne imitation.

"Ummm, Aunt Ruth? Wrong cowboy." Darryl observed with a sly grin, "I think it was Gary Cooper who said "Smile when you say that." Although maybe the Duke did say "pilgrim" . . . sometime."

They were still enjoying the tension release of laughter when the patio door opened and Marie hurried. "Jane? Judge Ruth is on the phone. She says it is important."

Jane picked up the portable phone beside her deck chair and answered it. "Jane? I've got a live one for you. He reminds me so much of David before Beth that it makes my heart ache. Tell me you'll be able to take him on now that Kenneth isn't in the program. Please?"

Jane looked over at Kenneth, smiled just a little sadly and shook her head. "It won't work, Ruth. I have made a commitment to Kenneth that includes retiring Kendra for good. Having a male around would just encourage the new student to believe that he wasn't completely alone in that frightening new world of feminine behaviors and fripperies. That early feeling of isolation is critical to what comes later."

"I have an idea on that score." Ruth plunged on, "Kenneth could stay with me. You know he's been talking about being a lawyer like his Aunt Ruth." Jane smiled at the pride in her dear friend's voice. "I could get him a part time job interning here at the courthouse so he can see how things happen in the real world. An internship like that would go a long way toward getting him into one of the better law programs, too."

"Ruth? I have to speak with Kenneth, first, and I also need to think about it. I have been thinking I might need a vacation from all this after the last few. I haven't been exactly successful of late."

"Jane, this boy *needs* you!"

"He may need something I can no longer give him, Ruth. I need to think about this. I will get back to you in the next day or so, all right?"

Reluctantly, Ruth finally agreed and hung up. Jane returned her gaze to the young men seated next to her. They were both staring at her intently.

"I am sorry, Aunt Jane, if you feel that you failed with me."

"Kenneth. . I . ."

"But you *didn't* fail with Kendra, Aunt Jane!" Darryl said intensely. "In fact, you succeeded far beyond what I thought was possible."

Jane turned her schoolmistress glare on her ward. "And just *how* did you come to that conclusion?"

Darryl grinned, not at all bothered by her look. "In about two weeks, you took him from being Kenneth to being Kendra, and Kendra was so perfect, so . . .let's see, what did you threaten me with? Oh yeah. . .so adorable, winsome and sweet, that his own mother did not recognize him. That's about as good as it gets, and you pulled it off in less than three weeks."

"But it wasn't the same." Jane protested.

"No, it wasn't." Kenneth said quietly. "It was better. Remember I told you it was a game, Aunt Jane? That it did not threaten or change the real, essential me?" Jane nodded. "That was the truth. Another truth is that now that I am no longer being threatened with lifelong dressing, I have found that I can actually enjoy the game . . . in moderation of course."

"Oh, of course in moderation." Jane retorted, laughing softly.

The gamine grin on Kenneth's face was pure Kendra. "Of course. Not only that, but the looks on Sheila's face when you told her who I was, and when you knocked her on her butt were priceless, memories I will cherish forever. I would never have had them if not for you and Kendra."

Jane did not want to discuss it further. "Ruth wants to send me another boy. I told her we'd have to think about it. She said you could go live with her, Kenneth, since if I do take him on, the only way you could stay with me would be as Kendra. Darryl?" she asked the other boy.

"Same answer, Aunt Jane. Count me in. I believe in you one hundred percent."

Tiredly, Jane rose to her feet. "I need to go for a walk and think a bit, boys." Both boys rose and kissed her on her cheek.

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

It was a very introspective Jane Thompson who strolled aimlessly around her home. The simple truth was that she was afraid to take on this student. Just as she had been before Kenneth had arrived on the scene, only more so.

That time she was simply afraid of failure. This time she was afraid she might lose her own soul.

Jane had always known that there were people who played dominance and submission games or sexual games using the props and tools she used with her young men. Having thought about that a great deal since leaving Ruth's house, Jane could understand how it such games could become an obsession, and how an obsession could go beyond the pale and become an evil, twisted thing.

A thing that could consume a person's soul, leaving nothing but the evil behind - as it evidently had with Sheila. Seeing that evil, up close, had given Jane pause. Could *she* fall into that abyss, too? Could Jane end up as evil as Sheila?

Great God above, but she did not want to *ever* become like Sheila. Yes, she enjoyed her games with the boys, enjoyed watching their fearful looks and embarrassed poses, and if she was being completely honest, some of those games even excited her. Is that what finally ate away Sheila's soul? That excitement that fed upon the harsh emotions her program was designed to spark in her young men?

How could Jane continue to put her young men through her program of terror and humiliation now that she knew what was possible?

Jane couldn't seem to find the answer, so she kept on walking, kept on trying to find a solution she could live with.

Jane made her way around the grounds, and found herself thinking of all the be-skirted young men who'd made a similar trek on their way to being given their femme names. She walked into her little English garden and saw Old Tom lovingly pruning one of her climbing rose plants. He saw her and instantly, his old lined face broke into a smile.

"Missus Jane! How are you doing, Ma'am?" he asked in his usual pleasantly gruff tone.

"Hello, Tom. I am fine," she answered pasting a smile on her face. "And you?"

"Doin' fine, Ma'am. . just fine." Then he looked at her more closely. "But, maybe you don't look so very fine. You look like you're carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders."

"I'll be fine. I just have to decide if I am going to take on a new student or not."

Tom returned to his pruning. "I surely do respect what you do here, Ms. Jane, helping those young folks like you do. Must be hard, too, deciding what boys to take in and what boys not to take in."

Jane felt as if someone had just upended a swimming pool filled with ice water over her head. "Tom, I teach girls." she said carefully.

"So it seems. But I have been here since the very first, Ms. Jane, and I have eyes. Every time the young one brings her new friend out to meet me and my boy, well, that new friend almost always has a fit. One of them slipped up once. Not too badly, but badly enough. I started looking more closely then and I think I've figured out what goes on here. By the time one of your lads is far enough along to make the introductions, well, if I didn't know already, I would swear he was a girl, but the new ones. . . well, they do try, but they don't have it all down yet."

Stunned, Jane could not even find the wit to try to dissuade him from his unfortunately correct conclusions. "Why haven't you said anything? Does any one else know?"

"Because it really wasn't any of my business. Still, I figured out pretty quickly that those boys were here to learn manners. I suspect they must need a whole lot of learning if you have to get them into girl clothes before they'd learn anything. They do seem much nicer, more mannerly, when it's their turn to make the next set of introductions. And no, I haven't told anybody - Like I said, it isn't anybody's business but yours."

"Does. . .does your son know, too?"

"That one?!?" Tom snorted. "He's too young to notice anything other than the young missus having pretty legs, or that she smells really good or that she looks very nice in her pretty dresses and make up."

"You've known all this time?" Tom nodded. "And you don't think it is an evil thing to do to those boys?"

The old man gave a bark of laughter. "You aren't an evil woman, Ms. Jane. I've seen you watching over those boys when you think they don't see you for a lot of years now. You're right careful with them and you seem to keep getting new ones so somebody must figure what you do is important. I remember that time the little red haired one fell down and broke his leg. God, he was pitiful, laying there in the driveway just screaming his lungs out. An evil woman would have thought of herself first. You had that little fella in the hospital before you even took the time to wash the makeup off him."

Still amazed, Jane could only shake her head in wonder. She remembered that boy, too. It had taken some mighty fast-talking. Fortunately, she'd already enrolled that boy in Deirdre's children's theater so she'd been able to explain the cosmetics that way. Her nurse friend had cut the girlish undies off the boy before anyone else had seen them, but that was as close as she'd ever come to having a boy publicly revealed. "I see." she said softly.

"You worry about being evil, too. The really evil folks I've seen, well, they just don't worry about being evil. They just are and you aren't. I figure it would be a real shame if you thought you could help that young fellow, but didn't try because you worried too much about being evil. Awful lot of bad things out there for boys these days. Too darn few good ones. You're one of the good ones, Missus Jane." he said with a sharp, emphatic nod of his head.

Jane's heart warmed and tears prickled against her eyelids at the words of this old man who had evidently been more a friend to her and her boys than Jane had ever realized.

"Tom?" The old gardener looked up from his pruning at Jane. "What happened to your homey, down east New England accent all of a sudden?"

A wide grin split Tom's face. "Oh, it's still there, Missus, when I need it. When you first came here, I decided to give you a bit of show during the interview. Then, the young'uns started coming along and I just kept using the accent. They just kept coming, each one expecting me to sound like I had when he'd first been introduced to me. I was sort of stuck."

"You are a very sweet man, Tom. I really do appreciate your support and loyalty all these years, even though I never knew until now just how supportive and loyal you truly were." Carefully, so as to avoid the sharp thorns of the trellised rose bush, Jane bent over and pressed a kiss to Old Tom's grizzled, whiskered cheek. "Thank you, Tom. For your silence, your help and your kind words." And then she briskly left the garden in search of Marie and the boys. Her family had some big decisions to make.

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

"Boys, I've decided I want to try to help Ruth's new candidate. Kenneth?" Jane asked. "I made a promise to you, so the final decision is really yours. Stay with me as Kenneth, stay with me as Kendra and help me work the new boy, or stay with Ruth."

"I'd like to stay with Ruth, Aunt Jane. So long as I can come visit you periodically."

"You know you are always welcome, dear. Just make sure any new students are fully indoctrinated first." Jane said warmly before turning to Darryl. "Marie?"

"Bring him on, Jane. I think I am ready for anything after this pair of clowns."

Jane smiled at her friend's joke before turning to the final player in her little play. "And you, Darryl, are you willing to be Darla again for a new "little sister".

Darryl fidgeted in his seat. "Out with it, Darryl. I won't mind if you say no." Jane prompted, even as she held her breath against the disappointment she knew she'd feel if he did say no.

"Oh, it's not that, Aunt Jane. Of course I will help with the new girl, it's just that . ."

"Darla." Jane ordered.

"Could you ask Judge Ruth to *please* make sure we get a *real* one this time? I don't think any of us could handle another one like the last few. Just a nice, average, normally obnoxious-bad boy delinquent you can turn into a good girl, okay?"

"Darryl, my friend." Kenneth put in with an air of great indignation. "Are you perhaps implying that I am not normal?"

"If the high heel fits, sweetie. . ." Darryl replied in Darla's dulcet tones.

"Why you . . ." Kenneth theatrically lunged towards the other boy, but Darryl was prepared for such a maneuver and kept just a step ahead of him.

Jane and Marie watched in tired amusement as the two boys went tearing off, laughing like loons.

"Darryl did say a "normally obnoxious bad boy", didn't he?" Jane asked Marie with a soft chuckle.

 

 

The End

 

 

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