A Time to Every Season

by Tigger
Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved

 

Part I

 

Chapter 4: A New Day for a New Student

The alarm that rang in Jane and Art's bedroom was all the more effective for its unfamiliar tones. Still, Art growled when repeated poundings of the bedside clock did not still the electronic bleating.

Groaning, Jane rolled out of bed and went to her vanity. "I armed the alarmed motion-sensors in Chastity's room before we went to bed last night," she explained as she removed the sleeping turban she'd used to keep her hair relatively neat through the night. She fumbled blindly about her vanity, found her brush and then continued. "I didn't know when she would awaken and I needed to get to her first thing."

Art peered blearily at the clock. "Early yes, but bright? I don't think so. Getting up before six a.m. is barbaric.

"It's the regimen her mother told us to expect, darling," Jane said shrugging into her robe. She came back to bed and planted a kiss on her husband's mouth. "Don't show yourself until after I have finished with her."

Art rolled back over and pulled the covers back up to his chin. "Won't," he mumbled. "'sides, unlike you, Diana needs time to become beautiful."

"Flatterer," Jane said with a smile, and then strode from the room. She had to catch the girl before she was involved in her morning program.

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

Jane stood outside the door to her new student's room, her hand resting on the doorknob. She took one last deep, cleansing breath and then opened the door.

The scene that greeted her was almost familiar. Her student was looking through the array of clothing that filled the huge, carved antique armoire. Even the look of mixed dismay, disgust and anger reminded Jane of the almost sixty other students who had come to Seasons House over the past twenty or so years. The only difference was that this student was already a girl.

Rocky heard the door open and close, but ignored it. She needed something to wear so she could get on with her morning workout. From what her mother and that judge had told her, she'd have little enough time to see to her body's needs once the day's 'classes' began in earnest.

Unused to being so completely ignored, Jane's ire rose a notch. "Chastity!" she said sharply. Jane could tell the girl heard her because she momentarily went still, but with a shrug then continued her search. Jane tried again and got even less response. That was when she remembered their first encounter at the train station. "MISS ROCKWELL!"

Sighing, Rocky stopped what she was doing and turned to face her mother's supposed friend. "Yes, ma'am?" she replied with hardly any inflection or interest.

"What are you doing?" Jane asked.

"Looking for something I can wear while I do my morning exercises. My stuff seems to have disappeared. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

The challenge was clear, but delivered quietly and in a controlled manner. Jane accepted that response as she would have accepted accusations and anger. "I have had your things put into storage. They will be returned to you only when I say so and only when I think you have earned them. Until then, those garments in that armoire have been provided for your use."

Rocky considered that, then shrugged. She'd exercised without proper clothes before. A decently fitting brassiere was all she really needed. The rest was purely for modesty's sake and that was an emotion that had meant very little to her. She began to turn back to the armoire only to be stopped by a snapped out order from the older woman.

"You and I need to talk. Immediately. I want you to shower, dress - that lovely robe hanging from the door of the armoire will do nicely - and then come to my study. Take a right when leaving your room and it is the second door on your left. I will expect you in no more than ten minutes." *Since you no doubt have a very masculine attitude towards lingering in a bath.*

"I will see you when I have had my workout, Ms. Thompson," the girl replied softly.

Jane turned back to face her new student. "Miss Rockwell, you have been sent to me because someone who loves you is very afraid that you may come to a bad end, causing harm to others and to yourself. You agreed to come here and agreed to participate in my program. So far, you have refused to answer a polite and civil greeting because you do not like your given name, ignored me when I attempted conversation with you and now you ignore my directions. I cannot help you if you do not do as I ask, Miss Rockwell. I will expect you in my study, showered and dressed in ten minutes or I will wash my hands of you and put you on the next train home. It is your choice, Miss."

Rocky watched the door slam behind the tall, striking woman. *Damn! Why did she have to be an early riser?* Looking down at the bra she'd pulled from one of the drawers of the armoire, Rocky gave a few moments thought to simply giving up and going home. Except that her mother had sworn not to support Rocky's training until she had graduated from this woman's school. It was not an insignificant threat. Pentathlon, with its equestrian and fencing competitions, was an expensive sport. Proper training was not cheap and although Rocky was good - very good for a junior - she was not good enough to gain outside sponsorship that would support her while she trained.

Sighing, she snatched down the robe and grimaced. It was satin - as feminine as the rest of this room and just as unwelcome. A glance at the clock told her she'd already wasted a minute of the ten that woman had allotted to her. Good thing she wasn't one to waste time on such things.

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

Jane sat in her chair, one eye on the clock, and one eye on monitor connected to the surveillance camera in Chastity's room. *How could I have been so stupid? I haven't even presented the choice and already I have given her an ultimatum that could have her leaving before we've even begun. At least she went into the bathroom, so there's a chance, but what do I do if she doesn't come out? If I give in, every threat or promise I make for the rest of her stay will be open to question. Oh, god, please let her give in this time. . *

Jane's clock had ticked away all but the last sixty critical seconds when the bathroom door in Chastity's room slammed open and a determined-looking girl strode out, heading for the door. Fifteen seconds later a firm knock sounded on Jane's door. The Mistress of Seasons House gave herself five more seconds to regain her composure, and then called out in her firm schoolteacher's voice. "Enter."

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

This chair cannot have been built properly,* Rocky thought as she exerted her will to keep from squirming on its seat, *Unless its designer was a sadist.*

Jane allowed her student to stew as she forced her relief into a dark, hidden corner of her mind. She would savor it later, perhaps with Art, but now she had to be the schoolmistress. She flipped through the dossier she'd developed as she waited, noting a violent episode here and a refusal to comply with a school policy there.

"Well, young woman, you have certainly led an interesting life these past few years. Tell me, Miss Rockwell, is arrest and prison time something you aspire to in life? If they are, then let me congratulate you on your planning. I would say you are, but for the good graces of your mother and a few other people who see a positive potential in you, well on your way to achieving that apparent desire."

*Another do-gooder,* Rocky thought sullenly, *determined to save me from myself.* "I have no wish to do either of those things, Ms. Thompson." she replied quietly, her voice monotone.

"Well, everything in this record says precisely the opposite, young lady!" Jane held up a piece of paper. "A disciplinary action for fighting on school grounds and putting the boy you were fighting into the hospital for three days with a concussion. Only the fact that no one could prove that you instigated the fight kept you from receiving more than an in-school suspension." Jane found another form. "Here is a letter to your mother indicating that you had refused to follow a school regulation and therefore would not be permitted to participate in the formal graduation. My discussions with your mother indicate that she was particularly hurt by that since your grades were excellent and you might have been valedictorian. What have you to say to that?"

"What I told her. I am not sorry that slug was in the hospital because he deserved what he got. I am sorry about the graduation, but there was nothing I could do about that, either."

"Oh?" Jane challenged. "It says here that the reason you were denied the privilege of graduating with your class is that you refused to comply with the dress code for the pre-graduation honors assembly, even after you had been specifically informed by the school's headmistress of both the requirement and the penalty for willful noncompliance."

"It is a free country," Rocky replied, more heat in her voice. "I do not have to wear a dress if I do not wish to wear one. The pants suit that I wore was elegant and tasteful. It is not like I showed up in rip-kneed jeans and a WWF t-shirt."

"It is indeed a free country, but that was a private school and the registration agreement your mother signed stated that you would comply with their rules and regulations as long as you were enrolled. Were you aware of that?"

Rocky hesitated, then nodded. "The Head showed me the document when she called me into her office to tell me I had to wear a dress. I told her that was unfair. She said that I was entitled to my opinion, but that if I wished to attend graduation, I would follow their stupid, sexist rules. I didn't think the ceremony was all that big a deal and did what I felt was right." At that point, her voice cracked and a single tear ran down her cheek. "I did not realize it was that big a deal to my Mom. If I had known how she felt, I would have worn the damn dress."

"Don't curse in my home, please," Jane rebuked, but the tear and evident emotion pleased her nonetheless. It boded well for it meant the girl did care about her mother in spite of her action to send Rocky to Jane. "Life is like that, Miss Rockwell, full of choices; full of consequences. Right now, you have another choice to make, but we will get to that in a moment. First, let me ask you another question. Why are you here?"

That brought a look of surprise to girl's face. "Because my mother sent me here." she finally replied. "It isn't like she gave me any alternative."

"So, you are here solely because your mother asked you to come?"

"More or less."

"I see," the stern-faced schoolmistress replied quietly. "Do you know what will be expected of you here, should I decide to let you stay on at my home?"

A look of unadulterated distaste bordering on disgust flashed in the girl's dark eyes. "From the way my mother described this, you are the Emily Post from Hell on female steroids. You are supposedly going to make me into a lady, whatever that means, whatever the cost."

"I asked you earlier not to curse in my home. I will not ask again. If you curse again before we have come to an understanding, we will terminate this interview and I will decide whether I should simply send you home or not. You are a nationally ranked athlete. Don't tell me you do not have the discipline to control your tongue because I know otherwise. Is that clear?"

The woman had not raised her voice, but Rocky had never felt so well chewed out in her life. Swallowing hard to clear the sudden lump in her throat, she nodded and said, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Very well. As to your description of me, aside from your flippancy, it is essentially correct. Basically, Miss Rockwell, what I run here in my home is a school in manners, deportment and feminine skills. As with any school, there are subjects to study and master, and there are tests to demonstrate that mastery. Let me tell you right now that you will be wearing dresses as well as feminine lingerie, shoes and cosmetics in my home - almost exclusively in fact. If you cannot accept that requirement THIS time, then we have nothing more to discuss."

Now Rocky did squirm. Lord, but she hated this, but she had given her word. "I knew that when I agreed to come here, Ms. Thompson. I will do as you ask and as you direct."

"Why are you here, Miss Rockwell?"

"You just asked me that, and I told you. My mother told me to come."

"Let's be frank with each other, shall we? Woman to woman? There is more to it than that. You are nearly eighteen. You could have waited her out. Actually, you can wait me out. In a mere eight months, your mother, and therefore I as her proxy, lose all authority over you. Why are you here?"

Rocky studied the tall regal woman for several moments and then realized, "You know, don't you? She PROMISED! She told me she wouldn't tell you . . . "

Jane held up her hand to stem the building eruption and was surprised when the girl responded. "She only told me that she was withholding something you wanted very badly until you came to me and passed my course. Having read your file, however, I have reached some conclusions on my own. They might be wrong, and if they are, my acting upon them could do both of us harm. Tell me the whole story, Miss Rockwell. Be honest with me. Begin as you mean to go in this joint endeavor of ours."

*I don't want to do this,* Rocky thought grimly. *Never give an opponent knowledge of your weaknesses. Oh hell, what does it matter anyway.* "I want to be the first woman to compete against the men in the World Pentathlon Championships a year and a half from now. Pentathlon is expensive, Ms. Thompson, and I cannot train without financial support. My mother has stopped supporting my training until I pass your course."

"So, assuming you complete my program, she will again shoulder the burden of paying for your training? I would say that you have a great deal to accomplish in the next eight months then."

"I know that I am not the most feminine person on this earth, Ms. Thompson, but I said I would come and I said I would try. I had hoped, however, that I could finish in less than the eight months because I don't want to be out of training that long."

"I see. Well, as to that, you will graduate when I feel you have accomplished what I want you to accomplish. That could take eight months, it could take four months and it could take a year or more. Typically, students graduate in nine to fifteen months."

"I can't be out of training that long!" Rocky exclaimed in dismay. "I will lose what edge I have and I will never be able to prepare for the trials."

"I will make you an offer, Miss Rockwell. Today is the only time you will hear it and today is the only time you can accept the terms. There are facilities on this estate - a stable of several mounts, all jumper trained, a small jump arena, miles of trails and a small exercise and weight room. Work with me instead of against me, Miss Rockwell. Give me your very best efforts to learn the lessons I am determined to teach you and in return, I will make arrangements for you to continue your training while you are here. Learn to wear cosmetics properly, and I will give you tuition in riding. Attain skill in preparing and serving a proper tea and I will arrange for a fencing master to give you regular lessons in my home. You have already given your mother your word, Miss Rockwell, and that is the stick. I offer you a carrot."

"Can I work-out in the morning each day? To keep my cardiovascular fitness?"

"It is "may I" not "Can I" and that is as much subject to your behavior and application to lessons as are everything else we are discussing today. Give me an honest effort each day, and the next morning you will be permitted to use the facilities. Consider it being like school, Miss Rockwell. You must maintain your academic standing to be permitted extracurricular activities."

Rocky thought about it, tried to find where the hook was, and then decided it did not matter. This was her only real chance at her goal. She was good at the pentathlon, very good in fact, but for a girl, a junior. Eight months of no exercise more challenging than lifting a china teacup with her pinkie crooked just so would put paid to her ever achieving the level of performance necessary to compete with the men on equal terms. She had no other choice. "All right, Ms. Thompson, I agree. I guess I will just have to trust you to be fair in your tests and evaluations, and agree to your bargain."

"Then I have your word of honor that you will unhesitatingly obey every command I give you, no matter how unpleasant or disagreeable you may find that activity to be?" The girl's eyes went wide for a moment as the full import of those words struck her, but then she shrugged and stated her agreement. "Then I give you my word that I will be fair and also that, assuming you perform to my expectations, I will pay for your training while you are here under my tuition. However, let me warn you that if at any time I sense that you are reneging on our agreement, or find that you have been dishonest with me in any way, I will wash my hands of you completely and advise your Mother accordingly. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ms. Thompson. I understand."

"Then we have a bargain. We will start your program of studies this morning with some lessons in clothing and cosmetology. Your hair is too short for any training in hair care, so we will be forced to make do with wigs until we can get you to town where a woven hair replacement can be set upon your scalp."

Rocky grimaced. Long hair on an athlete was a nuisance, but she wasn't going to fight over it. She'd find a way to deal with it. Other female athletes managed didn't they? Well, so could Rocky Rockwell.

Jane saw the reaction, but was pleased that the girl did not take issue. It showed she was ready to make an honest attempt at Jane's program, which was all the older woman had wanted from this interview. "Chasti. . " Jane began and then stopped at the fury she saw suddenly rise in the girl's eyes. "I mean, Miss Rockwell. You really do despise that name, don't you? It is not an affectation."

"I hate it." was the flat reply.

"Well, I need a name to call you by other than Miss Rockwell and I refuse to use your preferred nickname. Do you have a name you would prefer to be called? A feminine name?"

"None that I can think of off hand, Ma'am."

"Do think on it, my dear, or I shall have to find one for you. In polite company, it is sometimes necessary to give others the privilege of one's Christian name. Since you will from time to time find yourself in polite company, you will need a name."

"I . . ." *Blast, if I don't come up with one, she'll choose one for me and that might be as bad.* "I will think about it, Ma'am."

Jane smiled slightly and rose. Recognizing the interview was over, Rocky also stood. "Miss Rockwell? One last thing before we conclude our talk. Please don't fight me in this endeavor. You have much to gain by working with me and a great deal more to lose by resisting me. Please remember that your mother loves you and at the same time, she trusts me. Think about both of those facts as we start with the first exercises. Now, come along. It is time for breakfast and I want you to meet my niece, Darla."

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

In truth, Jane was pleasantly surprised at Miss Rockwell's table manners and behavior. The table setting was intentionally elaborate and included several unnecessary utensils for courses that would not be served. In each case, the girl elected to watch Diana and then emulated the psychologist's selection. She handled her napkin deftly and ate with a mannerly if focused skill. At no time was she more than three polite chews from swallowing so that she could reply to one of Jane's many questions or comments. *At least this is one area where we will not require much effort. So much the better all around, particularly for the digestion,* Jane mused as she finished her melon course.

Marie then came bustling out of the kitchen with the hot course - bacon, scrambled eggs, fresh home-fried potatoes and toast. As the 'guest', the new student was served first. She politely took surprisingly small servings of eggs and potatoes, passing on the bacon and the already buttered toast.

Jane took that in and began to wonder if the child was feeling ill. A certain degree of anxiety was normal, particularly after the first interview, but the child was an athlete and Jane expected her to have an athlete's appetite. Her worry increased when Chastity took only the barest bites of the food and then began pushing the food about the plate, but not eating.

"Are you feeling unwell, Miss Rockwell, or is the food not to your liking?" Jane asked, her voice neither challenging nor (she hoped) overly concerned.

"I am fine, Ms. Thompson, and the food tastes very good. It is just that my training diet does not allow for so much fat."

"I see," Jane replied, and in truth, she did see. *Well, perhaps I can be the first one to compromise this time, and will be able to use that as a lever later today when I need one, as I am sure I will with this one. She almost reminds me of Kenneth in some ways. I know she enjoyed the taste of those potatoes and eggs, because her eyes became momentarily dreamy as she savored that one mouthful she permitted herself. Yet, she is sufficiently self-disciplined to limit herself to just that taste. A bit of a paradox, that. Oh well.* "Perhaps, while you are with Marie this morning, you could give her a quick description of your dietary needs, and then a more detailed written one when you have the time?"

The surprise in the girl's eyes pleased Jane. *One for my side,* she thought and then sternly reminded herself that was also Chastity's side. "Is there anything you would like right now that is not too difficult to prepare?" Jane asked solicitously.

"If I may, Ms. Thompson, I would like some more of the fresh fruit and perhaps two slices of dry wheat toast?" Rocky asked hopefully.

Jane pressed the call button on her side of the table and passed the request on to Marie. "Right away," she said cheerfully. "Next time, cherie, you will tell me if you need special food, eh?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Rocky said, again surprised at the pleasant response to her request.

"You are here to learn, dear," Jane said firmly, "Not to degrade your health. What you have to learn here will be demanding enough with you at your full strength. If you truly need something, you have but to tell me and if it is possible, we shall see to your needs."

Marie came out of the kitchen at that moment with a huge bowl of the fresh fruit, the slices of toast and a crystal container filled with red preserves. "Homemade, dear," she said as she lifted the cut-glass lid, "No preservatives or processed sugars. Made it myself with only fruit and honey." And then she was gone before the stunned girl could thank her.

"You rate, girl," Darla piped in for the first time as Rocky put a miserly dab of the red fruit spread on one of the toast points. "Marie doesn't break out her special preserves for just anyone. She must figure you'll really appreciate them."

Rocky bit into the toast and flavor exploded in her mouth. "Oh, but that is wonderful," she sighed, before applying herself to the fruit bowl.

Jane allowed the two teens to talk quietly for the remainder of the meal, content to allow the seeds of a relationship to be planted. If the current plan was to work, Darla had to become Chastity's friend in ways that had never been necessary with her other students. Darla would have to walk a very fine line between being the feminine role model against which the new student would be judged and initially found wanting, and being the girl's friend and mentor behind the scenes.

Rocky finished the fruit and toast, allowing herself another spoon-tip of the wonderful preserves on the last toast point. She rationalized that indulgence by telling herself that she would probably need the energy before the day was out. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and then folded it and set it aside as she had seen the silver-blond lady, Ms. Philips, do with her napkin.

Jane smiled regally. "Well, if you are finished with your meal, we have a great deal to accomplish this morning. First, you will take a bath using the scented oils provided for you in your bathroom. I expect that you will linger for at least thirty minutes and no longer than forty-five minutes. During that time you will shave your legs and underarms and shampoo and condition your hair. When you are finished, Marie will be there to assist you in the first of four complete dressings and make up sessions. You will observe and listen to Marie so that you can learn these techniques yourself. The last session you will do your own makeup and dress yourself. If you meet my expectations, I will permit you to exercise tomorrow morning before breakfast. I assume you have a schedule you follow?" At the girl's nod, Jane continued. "Then when you write up your dietary requirements for Marie, you will do the same for me with respect to your program of training. If you meet my minimum standards at the end of each day, you will be permitted to exercise the next. As per our agreement."

"Yes, Ma'am," Rocky said, a bit of a quaver in her voice.

Jane picked up on the reaction and pounced. "Is there some problem, Miss Rockwell? Have I in some way misrepresented how you understand our agreement?"

"No . . no. . .but. . ." Rocky steeled herself. "A HALF hour? in a bathtub?"

It was all Jane could do not to laugh at the girl's dismay. "Why yes," and then intentionally misunderstanding, "Ah, I see. You are concerned about being able to do a proper job on your shavings. Very well, at least forty-five minutes, but you must absolutely be out of the tub, ready to begin in one hour. We will do the final dressing after lunch."

Rocky wanted to scream. Almost an hour WASTED in a bathtub? Even if she shaved her legs twice and shampooed her hair four times she could easily be ready in twenty minutes tops. However, she suspected that any further conversation with this woman would have her stuck in that tub until it was cold. "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you." *For nothing!* her mind snarled. "May I please be excused?"

"Yes, dear. I will see you after Marie has finished your first dressing. Run along now. That's a good girl."

The three co-conspirators watched as Rocky's spine went ramrod straight and her eyes flashed at Jane's last comment, but once again, the discipline won out and she simply rose, and marched from the room.

Jane reached over and flipped another hidden switch. Moments later, they heard an angrily muttering Rocky storm into her bedroom. Jane breathed a sigh of relief. She had been momentarily afraid she might have pressed too hard with that last bit.

"Why the longer times, Aunt Jane?" Darla asked. "What happened to the bath from hell and the impossible thirty minute change/make-overs?"

Jane refilled her coffee cup from the silver carafe Marie had left. "I have revised the program a bit, dear," she replied carefully. "As you well know, my early purpose with you boys has always been to confound you, keep you off balance and get you into a pure reaction frame of mind. That way, the student is still somewhat numb when he goes out to Old Tom for his naming. Once he's been "named", the thought of having another man, more importantly an ADULT man know that the student has been dressing like a girl locks him into the program.

"And your purpose with Rocky, I mean, Miss Rockwell, is different?"

"Yes, especially after watching her behavior at table today and yesterday. She is already sufficiently unfeminine, heavens, ANTI-feminine, in her chosen mode of dress. I don't want her to develop a disgust of the feminine condition or worse, reinforce what she already evidently feels. I think, and Diana agrees, that if she can begin to enjoy her fripperies, we may be more than halfway there with her."

"So, no church bell petticoats or Alice in Wonderland outfits?"

"Nor will we force a change of hair color on her, although she might eventually wish to experiment on her own later - something which we will, of course, encourage. No, I want her to learn to wear the clothing, learn to apply the cosmetics, not to hate them. Unlike my boys, who can and do leave such feminine things behind when they finally leave me, Miss Rockwell is a female. If she chooses to turn her back on that fundamental aspect of herself it will not be as a result of something we forced upon her while she was under my care."

"Well," Darla pronounced with great feminine disgust, "I cannot say I think much of MY fripperies right now. Is it really necessary for me to be such a. . . such a dowd?"

The two older women burst into laughter and Darla's devastating imitation of the current teen female sitcom queen. "Yes, dear," Diana managed finally to reply. "Because while you must be completely feminine, we don't want our new student to take one look at you and give up in despair. Janey? Can we have someone do something about her nose? It cannot be that difficult a surgery."

"The surgery would be purely cosmetic, Diana, so I cannot really order her to have it done. Although she is a minor, she is old enough to express an informed opinion on the subject and any reputable surgeon would want her agreement first. It is too bad, though, because she might actually be rather attractive with out that unfortunate injury."

Nodding, Darla pulled a piece of computer paper from the pocket of her robe. "Last night I played with that computer you folks bought for me. I scanned in one of the pictures of Rocky. . .sorry, Aunt Jane, Miss Rockwell, and tried copying noses from. .. ummm. . .some pictures from the Internet," she finished with a bit of a blush that had Jane wondering how well clothed the owners of the noses might have been. "Anyway, this was the best of the lot."

Jane took the picture and placed it between herself and Diana. *Too bad she isn't smiling in the picture,* Jane thought as she examined the composite photo. *Once you no longer have that bent and broken nose to fixate upon, she is really quite striking. Full lips, huge eyes, high cheekbones. Even that ridiculous haircut gives her a gamine, elfin look. Quite pretty in fact,* she finally concluded and began racking her brain for a strategy to get that picture and the girl willingly to a reputable cosmetic surgeon.

"Odd, but that picture looks familiar somehow," Diana murmured, half to herself.

"I thought so, too, Daddy-Di, but I can't place the memory."

Jane shrugged, realizing that time was getting away from them. "She looks like Miss Rockwell. Darla, I will call you in during the third change. She will be in heels then. I think we can expect that she will be, at best, inept in them. I will want you to demonstrate for her that my exercises are not impossible. The plan is that she will fail on her own and thus be in danger of losing her workout unless she does much better for the final session after the midday meal. Then, assuming all goes well during the final session, you will take her out to meet Old Tom and give her a properly feminine name we can use here and when we are in society."

"She's not going to kill me when I do that, is she? The guys are usually too surprised and afraid of exposure to consider any retaliation. She won't be afraid."

"No, she will not threaten you," Jane said with quiet confidence. "She has, by the way, agreed to anything that is not one of her family's traditional names."

"I know that Chastity is one of the names on the 'don't go there' list," Darla asked, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes, "What are the others? Just so I won't make that mistake."

"You aren't likely to do so," Jane said with heavy irony, "As they are not names that would be popular in the modern world. However, they are - in addition to Chastity, of course - Prudence, Virginia, Shirley, Goodness and Mercy."

"You're kidding," Darla retorted.

Jane rose to her feet. "Darling, you know that I *never* kid."

Chapter 5: First Lessons Are the Toughest

Two-and-one-half hours later, Jane sat at her study desk, her fingers massaging throbbing temples. Her headache was in part due to the stress of resisting the sniping, caustic comments that were by now second nature to her during this particular exercise. To this point, at least, she had managed to be demanding but fair in her evaluations of her student's efforts and presentations.

Using an instant camera, she had photographed Chastity during the first presentation. She had been beautifully made up using subtle colors that made those incredible violet eyes even more dramatic while the softly tailored skirt and matching sweater in soft earth tones had shown off her strong young figure.

The second presentation, for which Marie had been more a consultant and helper had not gone nearly so well. Clearly, the girl had little experience with any kind of a makeup brush and her color preferences tended to the dull grays that did nothing for her looks at all. And then she had strode about the room like a man late for dinner. While Jane did not intend to impose the exaggerated mincing gait that she taught her boys on the girl, there were still LIMITS! *Just as well the next session requires her to move in heels,* Jane thought as she dug a knuckle into one particularly painful knot.

She was on the point of searching her desk for an aspirin when her study door opened to admit Marie. Jane looked up, instantly wary. "What is it?"

Jane barely resisted the urge to wince when she saw her longtime friend and confidante actually bite her lip and wring her hands. Sighing, Marie caught herself and started "I am sorry to say this, Jane, but what is going on in there right now isn't working. I understand where you are going with this child - how and why this program is different from what we usually do, but her reactions are still, at best, little more than what we get from the more compliant boys. Oh, she does what I ask when I ask, and she really works at it, too, but she has yet to show the slightest sign of enjoying any of it! Not ANY of it, and that's such a shame, considering the pretty clothes and lovely faces you have specified for her. All this one is doing is putting on a disguise - like some Halloween mask she will take off as soon as she is given permission to undo it all."

Cursing under her breath, Jane nodded. She should have seen it herself had she not been so preoccupied with not verbally lashing the girl. "So, what should I do?"

"It's like you told Darla, cherie. We've got to find some way to make this fun for her, instead of work," Marie said quietly. "The boys are motivated by fear. I think she is also motivated by fear, and right now, only fear."

"Fear of WHAT?!?" Jane demanded, her headache back in full force. "She's already a girl!"

"Fear that you will withhold her exercise privileges," Marie said quietly. "As important as you said those privileges are to her, I think we have still underestimated the potency of that threat. If we don't want her to hate the dressing up, and the makeup, and all the other wonderful feminine things both of us really love and that we want to share with her, you are going to have to tread very lightly. If she decides that her inability to meet your expectations costs her those privileges, she will never learn to enjoy being a girl."

"What you're saying is that you don't believe the original plan, as we laid it out last night, will have those desired outcomes?"

Marie shook her head solemnly. "I believe that if you use Darla to show this girl up just now? In the mood she is in?" Marie sighed unhappily. "She will take the criticism and then she'll do her best, but she will never enjoy it. She'll just press on harder and work at whatever you tell her to correct, and I do mean "work" in the worst sense of the word."

"I see. . . ." Jane thought, her eyes becoming vague as she contemplated Marie's observations. "And if I do withhold privileges, just as an attention getter?"

"I can't say for sure, Jane, but I think she will decide that if she works so hard and still fails, that there will be no point in working."

*Lord, but I wish Diana was here and not out taking care of the shopping. Still, I don't doubt that Marie is correct in her assessment. How in heaven's name do I teach a girl to have fun being a girl? Whatever could have happened to that poor child that she can't even enjoy the most basic feminine pleasures? Maybe. . .* "Lord, but I hate improvising like this. . .and yet. . . Marie? Have Darla come see me, please. Keep . . .oh hell, keep *Rocky* busy for another fifteen minutes. Show her how to fix a mistake with her mascara or how to blend her blusher."

Moments later, Jane opened her door to a knock. "You wanted to see me, Momma-Jane?" asked the primly dressed teenager. Darla had done exactly what Jane had asked for. She would have easily won the role of Marian the Librarian in the musical "The Music Man". Her wig was set in a neat bun that matched the real one Jane normally wore when she went off on a business trip. Black-framed glasses gave her a bookish air that made Jane want to shake her head. She was dressed in dark, conservative colors that did nothing for her, fashion-wise and did, in fact, make the girl look sallow. *Oh, but this is the very last thing I want that girl next door emulating. What have I done?*

"Thank you for coming so quickly, dear," Jane said as she lead her child to the settee. "Things have changed since this morning. On the bright side, I think I better understand what is missing in our program and we need to change the plan for you before we make what I am sure would be a very serious error. I still need you to perform the functions of role model and helpmate, but from a different characterization, I think. It will be difficult for you, but I honestly believe that it is as important to teach your new sister to enjoy her femininity as it is to teach her to be feminine."

"Okay, Momma-Jane," Darla replied, her curiosity aroused. "You know I will do anything I can to help. What's the new plan?"

"So, this is what I want you to do. . . ."

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

"'Play down your looks, Darla,'" Darla fumed in a singsong voice as she dug through years of collected clothing in the normally locked Seasons House attic. "'Don't appear too threatening to her fragile feminine ego, Darla' and so I go and dress like this for her? Cripes, but a crow has more color than this outfit. And then what happens? And only forty minutes before show-time, no less?" She held up yet another overly frilly frock in one hand and an umbrella-like multi-layered petticoat in the other. "Like where am I going to find clothes like that in THIS house?!?! Blast!"

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

*She's walking like she's holding that book clinched between the muscled cheeks of her derriere instead of balanced precariously on her head,* Jane thought as Webster made a third trip from Chastity's head to the floor. In truth, if one of her boys had done as well at this point in her program, he would have been quite above average. Rocky was wearing taller heels than Jane usually sprung on a first day student and that was ONLY the third drop of the dictionary. Even Darla had dropped it twice that number in the same time frame. *But she's already a girl!* Jane's mind complained yet again. "Again, please," she ordered her student.

Assuming the girl had never worn makeup before today, her efforts in this session had been. . . adequate. Assuming she had never attempted to walk in three-inch heels before today, then her movements had been . . . satisfactory. Her clothing was tastefully selected and suited her own natural coloring well enough, but then, wearing navy blue and white did not press the envelope very much.

*But she is a girl! And she's seventeen years old. What girl does not experiment with cosmetics as soon as she can get her mother's permission, or play in mother's high heels until she can talk her mother into buying her own spiked shoes?* Jane winced as the book went down a fourth time. "Miss Rockwell, if you please. You must learn to do this in a fluid, graceful manner. You can no more walk like a lady when you're as stiff as a board than you could fence competently with that same rigidity. These exercises will make you better at your own goals, if you allow them."

"Yes, ma'am," the tall girl replied dutifully, but she was obviously no more convinced of that possible benefit than of any other potentially positive outcome of the feminine skills she was required to learn.

"Oh, bother," Jane said with perhaps just a bit too much theater in her accompanying sigh. "Wait here."

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

Rocky stood quietly holding the dictionary, watching the Thompson woman warily. *Now, what?* she thought with a mixture of resignation and curiosity.

A knock sounded at the door.

It was a tossup who was more surprised when the door opened - Jane or Rocky.

Darla almost pranced over to Jane, a huge smile on her face. "You wanted to see me, Aunt Jane?" she asked sweetly after pressing a smacking kiss to Jane's suddenly frozen cheek. "Like my outfit?" she cooed as she moved back to pirouette for her aunt.

It had taken real effort and imagination to put together her current outfit, and Darla was rather proud of it considering how little warning Jane had given her. She'd started by combining white spiked heels with one of the knee-length snow-white, dirt- magnet dresses Jane kept on hand for her students. For accent, she'd found a supply of brightly patterned satin scarves that she'd used to accessorize the dress. A predominantly burnt orange scarf adorned her slender waist, twisted into a rope-like belt. Unfortunately, her other choices, a bright canary yellow scarf held at her throat by a cameo pin and a pair of electric pink ones that held and blended with her two side ponytails, made the entire ensemble rather. . . visually discordant. With a much more vivid application of cosmetics than she would normally use in Jane's presence, Darla was certainly eye-catching.

"That. . .that is quite a display, young lady," Jane said, her voice heavy with censure. "Another of your fashion experiments?"

Darla twirled again, causing the loose ends of the scarves at her neck and in her hair to flutter. "Yes. What do you think?"

"I think that you might want to attempt to find hues and shades that suit your own coloration better," Jane replied before adding with heavy emphasis, "That you could have remembered we have a student in residence and picked a better time to indulge yourself this way."

"Oh, ease up a bit, Aunt Jane," the girl pouted prettily. "I just wanted to have some fun and was already dressed up when you called. I rather like the concept," she said looking at herself in a nearby mirror, "but you may be right about the colors. Maybe something in greens and reds." Before Jane could respond, Darla spun on her heels and turned a happy smile to Rocky. "What do YOU think," she said, directing her question to Jane's student. "Don't you think this looks like a fun outfit?"

Rocky could only gape. *Fun? Dressing up like that to call that kind of attention to yourself? Maybe for someone like her . . * "I . .I. . I" she stuttered before taking a calming breath. "You look very. . . ummm. . .striking and . .. and. . ." Words failed her as she just kept staring at the young vision in white.

"Perfect!" Darla said with a huge grin. "Just the effect I wanted." She turned her back to Rocky so that only Jane saw the minx wink at her. "So, Aunt Jane, why did you call me away from my fashion design session?"

Jane managed a believable harrumph and said low in her throat. "I want you to demonstrate walking in heels to Miss Rockwell. She has not yet been able to manage two complete circuits of the study without dropping the dictionary from her head."

"Of course, Aunt Jane. Sounds like fun. Here, Miss Rockwell, give me that book. The main thing," Darla said in a conspiratorial semi-whisper as she carefully positioned the dictionary on her head, "is to develop a lower body movement that rolls you along while keeping the upper body, and therefore your head, steady. Like this."

It was all Jane could do not to giggle and all Rocky could do not to gape as, hands on hips, Darla dance-stepped up and down the carpeted room.

And the damn book never fell once!

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

The mid-day meal that followed Darla's singular demonstration was equally unique in Jane Thompson-Philips' long experience with her special students. After that first morning's dress-up session, Jane would make several pointed 'compliments' to a boy student on his lovely dress, tease him about his pretty face, or call attention to his head full of by-now very curly hair. She did none of that with this student.

There were, she thought later in the privacy of her study, at least three reasons for that omission on her part. The first was the most important if the plan Jane and Diana had developed had any possibility of success. She did not want to do anything to make the girl more ambivalent about the femininity Jane hoped to help her experience more fully.

The second reason was more troubling and something Jane realized she had to address if she was to achieve her goals with Chastity Rockwell. Simply put, Jane hadn't been able to bring herself to comment positively upon anything about the girl. In point of actual fact, Chastity looked much nicer than any of her boys ever had at this point, even with the nose, so why hadn't Jane found anything encouraging to say to Chastity? *Because she is a girl, Jane Thompson, and you are subconsciously, instinctively, UNFAIRLY holding her to a higher standard than you do your boys!*

That was an ego-lowering thought, and one Jane would have to discuss at length with Diana, perhaps tonight after the girls were safely tucked into their beds. Sometimes, particularly with one of her very troublesome boys, Jane had to do something 'unfair' to get that boy's attention, like long-lasting cosmetics followed by an public outing in effeminate clothing. Or like the trick she had played on one student who had been initially cast in a boy role in the children's theater production of Alice in Wonderland, only to later force him to volunteer for the girl lead when Jane's senior student had 'graduated'.

However, those acts, "unfair" as they truly had been, had always been done intentionally as part of a carefully developed and considered plan of action, and most importantly, with a full understanding that she WAS being unfair. *But always in a good cause,* she told herself encouragingly. This time was different, and Jane did not like finding this prejudice in herself.

So, it was probably for the best that there was a third reason she had not had much to say during lunch. That reason had a name - Darla. *Lord-oh-lord, but where in heavens name did she come up with that . . . that costume? When I told her to try to find something youthful, playful and flashy, I never envisioned anything like. . . like THAT!*

During lunch, Darla had thoroughly dominated the conversation, or had it been more like a monologue? - with her almost constant chatter. *Where in heaven's name did my child learn the lyrics to the latest N'sync single? I don't know if Miss Rockwell was amused or appalled, but she was definitely enthralled.*

*And that 'Vaudevillian walking exposition' of hers - the only thing she did not do was a set of Rockette-style high kicks. I hope she did not overdo it, but she definitely got her little sister's attention, which was the goal.* Jane stopped to reflect on that for a moment when a revelation began to take form. *Darla isn't the big sister in this dynamic, is she?

Particularly after that show she just put on in my study. She's much more suited to being the prototypical little sister full of bubbly emotion, laughter and mischief with this student. I hope that will work because I am positive that Chastity won't be able to accept her in my program's more customary 'big sister' role again after this.* Jane sighed. Yet another thing to add to her "Talk with my husband-the-shrink" list.

A knock on her door pulled Jane from her reveries. When she bid the person to enter, she smiled to see her child walk through the door. Darla had dispensed with the clashing pink and yellow scarves before dinner, replacing them with a tasteful amber pendant that nicely complimented the orange belt, while using a set of antique combs, also carved from amber, to hold her wig's hair back from her face. She still looked very young, but certainly more sophisticated as one would expect of a girl tutored by Jane Thompson.

"Hi, Aunt Jane," Darla said, staying in role, "Roc. . I mean, Chastity just went up to her room after helping Marie with the clean up."

Jane nodded and flipped on the monitoring equipment. Darla moved around the desk to look on as the hidden camera revealed a very dejected looking young woman sitting on the edge of the bed. "Maybe I overdid things when I demonstrated with the dictionary, Momma-Jane?"

Thinking about the possibilities, Jane wondered, too. "Maybe, maybe not. I see potential in this situation, so let's try to take advantage of that. I won't send Marie up to her to supervise her dressing for another forty-five minutes. This is what I want you to do. . ."

Darla listened to Jane's directions, nodded once or twice, asked a few very incisive and pointed questions, and finally agreed. "You're still going to let her work out, aren't you, Momma Jane?" Darla asked as she rose. "I mean, she's been trying very hard - even I can see that - and I would hate it. . .REALLY hate it if something this spur-of-the-moment messed up her Olympic dreams."

"I promise that I will find enough effort and progress in whatever she does, so long as she continues to put forth the effort she did this morning, to reward her efforts, dear. That was always my intention." *And one I shall keep foremost in my mind for the remainder of the day,* she told herself sternly. *There is a difference between saying something positive and not saying anything too negative.* "Now, go see what you can accomplish."

Jane watched as the calm, mature features metamorphosed back into the creature that had so recently honored her table at luncheon. With a spritely peck on her Aunt's cheek, Darla chirped out a "Laters, Auntie J," and strutted toward the door of her study where she stopped before opening the door. "Oh, Aunt Jane? If this idea of yours works out and becomes the plan? Well, you know, we're going to have to do some serious shopping. I mean, the stuff you have here is just so. . . so. . " she stumbled trying to find the right epithet and then grinned broadly, "so late Twentieth Century - at best. Ya know?"

And then she was gone. *And here I have always thought I was trying for late Nineteenth Century. Victorian Petticoat Domination isn't what it used to be. Auntie J!?!?* Jane thought with a grin, and then settled herself to observe the coming tableau on her security monitor.

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

Alone with her thoughts, Rocky seriously considered the likelihood she would never be allowed to continue her training. If this morning was any indication, the Thompson woman's standards might very well make it impossible for Rocky to earn her workouts. Truthfully, she'd never for a moment considered that she wouldn't make the grade in the older woman's estimation. After all, it was only silly girl stuff. At least, she had thought that it wouldn't be difficult until Darla had come in and shown Rocky just how high that bar was set. She could feel the first muscle quivers of stress begin to circle about her stomach. *Oh, I need to work out!* her overly stressed mind cried.

Chapter 6: New Friends and Little Successes

A knock sounded at her door shook Rocky from her mental ruminations. When she opened it, she was surprised to see Darla standing out there looking hopeful. "Hi!" she said. "May I come in?"

*What for?* Rocky wanted to ask, but didn't. *No sense in aggravating anyone else in the house.* "Sure. What can I do for you?"

The girl nearly skipped into the room! "Well, actually, I was hoping you'd let me help you," Darla said, somewhat shyly all of a sudden. "I mean, you did a really great job for your first try with Aunt Jane, but I thought I might be able to give you a couple of quick pointers so that this afternoon's session will go off all right. I mean, if you don't mind, that is."

"Somehow, I don't think that you can teach me to move like you did in . . " Rocky checked the clock, "the half an hour before Miss Marie comes to dress me for my final presentation to Ms. Thompson."

"Oh, that," Darla said dismissively and then gave a little giggle. "I just did that to jerk Aunt Jane's chain a little. I mean, I really love her and all that, but she can get really stuffy sometimes. So, can we try a couple of tricks?"

"Why would you want to do that? Wouldn't that get you into trouble with your aunt?"

"Why wouldn't I want to help you?" Darla managed to sound completely surprised by the question. "I figure you could use a friend just now, and I can always use another girlfriend. Girlfriends help each other, right? And as for Aunt Jane, you just let me worry about her, okay, girlfriend?"

Rocky thought about the session she still had to get through and shrugged. *Girlfriends? How would I know what girlfriends do when I haven't had one since elementary school? Still, what have I got to lose?* "Sure. I would appreciate any help I can get."

"Great! Okay, what I want you to do is just walk across the room - the way you usually do. Try not to think about what you are doing, okay?"

"All right," Rocky replied, reaching down to pick up her discarded shoes.

"No!" Darla protested. "Not with those things. Just your bare feet - do what is natural." Surprised, but willing to play along, Rocky did what she was told. "Okay. Now, put your hands on your hips like I did - hold them right in the same place and don't let them move - and do the same thing again."

When Chastity stopped, she had to roll her shoulders to get the tension out of them. "What did you feel?" Darla asked.

"My shoulders really got tight. And my balance felt funny."

"Exactly!" Darla cheered. "That's the point. Watch me walk." She ordered as she stepped out her own heels. "See what I am doing with my shoulders? See how they're swinging?" At Rocky's affirmative, Darla continued. "That's how you walk naturally. Watch my head - see how it bobs? So does yours. It's no wonder the book won't stay. Now watch me move. Pay particular attention to my arms." Darla did a classic model-on-the-runway walk, her arms and shoulders steady, but her hips swinging rhythmically.

"You should have back-trouble from walking like that," Rocky said, "But your head was steady as a rock."

"That's the point! And that's why I put my hands on my hips earlier, so I would remember not to move my shoulders and keep my head steady. Now, you try it with this book on your head."

It took a few minutes and several tries, but soon, barefoot at least, Rocky could make three full circuits of the room without dropping the book. Actually, the posture did remind her something of fencing - at least the defensive stances. "But this isn't in heels," she said to Darla as she dropped the book on to the nearby bed.

"True enough. Tell me - who picked your heels? You or Marie?"

"I did. I thought they went with the outfit."

"And so they did, but they are also just about the most challenging shoes in your closet if I know my Aunt Jane. Let's see what we can find that might be a little easier to wear and then see if we can find you an outfit to match them."

"Not like what you wore!" Rocky retorted, almost afraid.

"No, of course not. You are still a student and I DO know how to dress to please Aunt Jane - I just don't sometimes."

"Why?" Rocky asked as she watched the other girl rummage in the big armoire.

"Because it is fun sometimes to tease her." Rocky's estimation of this girl's personal courage went up another notch. "Here we go. These will do just fine. Now, let's see if there is a pretty dress in here that will suit your coloring and work with these shoes. Then, I will teach you a couple of makeup tricks. Knowing Marie, she gave you the full beauty parlor, major make over, glamour treatment. That's great and it can be really neat to look like that, but being able to do that all by yourself is, as Aunt Jane would say, an acquired skill. You have great eyes and a nice shapely mouth. We can make you look almost that good with just a bit of eye magic, some lipstick and a just a hint of color on those pale cheeks of yours."

Rocky felt like she was being carried off by a flash flood. *Well, Hurricane Darla has definitely made landfall,* she thought with a bit of a smile. *So I guess that is an apt analogy.* "Sounds good to me," she managed to say. "What do we do first?"

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

Watching from her study, Jane had notified Marie to give Darla a few extra minutes to finish her tutoring of Chastity. From what she could see and hear, it was going very well. Darla even had the somewhat taciturn older girl almost giggling by the end of the lessons. Jane let them 'hide' the selected dress and shoes back in the armoire and cream off Chastity's second successful practice of Darla's 'tricks' before buzzing Marie to come up and get started.

Diana entered the room just then, back from her shopping trip. "How is it going?" she asked, immediately after nearly short- circuiting Jane's gray cells with one of her marvelous kisses.

Coughing first to clear her suddenly tight throat, Jane managed "Better, now, I think. I had to change the plan on the fly, but I think this new idea might be working."

"Does that change how you want to play this session?" Diana asked.

"No. I still need to be the stern, demanding teacher with extremely high standards so that she will stay on her toes and do what I ask."

"Got it. So what are the changes?"

"One of them is Darla, so don't act surprised when you see her. I will explain everything later, all right?"

"All right," Diana replied just as a knock signaled Chastity's arrival at the door.

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

Jane kept her face expressionless as she watched her student complete her sixth successful stroll about the study. So far, the dictionary had only fallen once, and that had been within the first five steps the girl had taken. *Probably wasn't settled quite squarely on her head,* Jane mused.

Chastity was actually holding her arms a bit too rigidly to be truly attractive, somewhat like a runway model with casts on both arms, but learning what movements she could make and which ones she could not would come over time. All in all, however, Jane was well pleased with this afternoon's work. Chastity had tried hard and done well. *Darla did well with her, too, and in more ways than just her walking.*

As was her habit, Jane had thoroughly inspected her student before the walking exercise had begun. The total picture was good - better than good, actually. The lighter hand with the cosmetics and the use of more subtle tones that Darla had taught Chastity worked well with the girl's darker coloring. In all honesty, Jane's new student did not need much in the way of artificial highlighting. *If only that nose was not quite so crooked,* Jane mourned yet again. *She would be quite attractive, if one was given to liking women with the strong, well-muscled look.* The wig was in a charming ponytail with just a fringe of bangs across her smooth forehead. The light, flower-patterned sundress Darla had selected showed off Chastity's tall, young body to perfection.

"She does have lovely shoulders,* Jane thought as Chastity swung into yet another cycle about the room, the off the shoulder design of the dress hugging her torso lovingly. *And such wonderful skin. Not much in the way of a bosom, a bit more than a B-cup I should think, but then endurance athletes tend to burn what fat they allow themselves to consume during their training. Still, her musculature is of the long and sleek type and not the unfemininely bulky type. She'll do nicely. Very nicely indeed.*

Of course, Jane had not been quite so complimentary when she spoke to her student as that was not part of the plan. She had pointed out minor imperfections in the application of the cosmetics - a bit too little lipstick here, a clump of eyelash with too much mascara there and a not-quite-properly shaded bit of rouge on one cheek. She saved her strongest criticism for the shoes. "Those sandals are hardly the best shoes you might have chosen," she complained about the strappy-white sandals with the wide, two-inch-tall heels, but then she softened the comment with "But I suppose they do suit the rest of your ensemble well enough. You will need to work up to . . . more feminine shoes as we continue the program, however."

Rocky had only swallowed and politely replied that she understood that. Jane had then handed her the dictionary and begun the rest of the exercise. The session had gone very well and it was time to call a halt so that there would still be time for the final act of today's little drama. Jane covertly pressed a small button beneath her desktop and then rose. She walked over to meet her student and deftly removed the book from her head.

"Brava!" Diana cheered, also rising to come over to the girl. "Very nicely done! I thought you got better and better at it as you went, too!"

"Thank you, Ms. Philips," Rocky said quietly. "I managed to relax a bit as the exercise continued and it did seem to help."

Jane shot her partner a visibly annoyed look that she made sure Rocky saw, and then shrugged. "I suppose you did . . . well enough. . . .for now, that is. However, I will concede that you have earned your right to exercise in the morning. Since I haven't yet received the report I asked you for, what is it you plan for tomorrow?"

Just then, the door opened to admit Darla. "Sorry I am late, Aunt Jane, . . OH, You're done! How did it go, girlfriend?"

"Well enough," Jane answered sternly, "And how many times have I told you to knock?"

Darla looked instantly contrite. "I am sorry, Aunt Jane, but I had promised Roc. . I mean, Miss Rockwell that I would be here for her session. Will she be able to do her thing in the morning?"

"I have just told her that I will permit some form of exercise tomorrow," Jane replied.

Darla squealed in delight and instantly was hugging the shocked student. "Way-to-go!" she cheered as she took Chastity's hands and began to dance her about the room.

"DARLA!" Jane snapped, secretly amused to see the wide-eyed look of disbelief on Chastity's face. "You are interrupting. If you cannot be a lady, I will be forced to discipline you. A weekend as Shirley might do you a world of good!"

As suddenly as she had pounced, Darla backed off and became instantly demure. "My apologies, Aunt Jane. I was just so happy for my new friend."

"As that may be, young miss, watch yourself. You are on borrowed time." Then Jane turned back to her student. "You were going to tell me what you wished to do tomorrow?"

"I would like to go for a distance run, Ms. Thompson. I feel the need to work out some kinks and running helps."

Jane considered this and frowned. "I had hoped that you had something else in mind. While there are many lovely trails around here that you might follow, I would not want you getting lost or hurt out there alone. Perhaps. . "

"Aunt Jane?" Darla piped up. "There is that fellow who lives down the road? The one that I went to school with? Darryl Smith? He runs long distance races and trains most mornings. I am SURE that he would be willing to help Miss Rockwell. I could call and ask him."

"A boy?" Rocky asked, suddenly on guard.

Diana saw the wariness and stepped in. "Nice young man, my dear. A little on the short side, but very polite and courteous."

"Short?"

"Actually," Darla put in as she stretched a bit in her three inch heels, "he's a bit shorter, maybe by as much as an inch or two, than me. And he is a nice guy."

"Got your eye on him, Miss?" Jane challenged.

"Good heavens NO, Aunt Jane!" Darla retorted, her voice ringing with alarm. "Forgetting for the moment that he's shorter than I am, he's much too physical for me. Why, the boy simply LOVES to sweat!" The final word was said with such trenchant condemnation that Jane could not hold back the chuckle.

"That would put YOU off, wouldn't it, Miss Priss," Jane teased, "But I do not think our Miss Rockwell would find that particular characteristic all that daunting."

Rocky felt her spine go rigid at the implied challenge and simply could not stop herself from replying. "No, that would be fine."

"Excellent. I will call this fellow myself and ask him to oblige you. Please have your schedule to me by tomorrow breakfast, and, by the way, don't plan any equestrian activities for the next two weeks. My stable manager is on vacation so most of my stock is being boarded elsewhere. Only my two favorite horses are still here, and while they are fine for gentle riding, they are well past the age of being jumpers. Once my other mounts are back, I will personally undertake coaching you in the jumping ring."

Surprised yet again, Rocky was barely able to manage a polite thank you. Jane waved it away. "It is my part of the bargain we made, girl. Keep your end of it and I will keep mine. Now, why don't you and Darla take a walk around the grounds before dressing for dinner? You can see the stables and look over some of the trails."

"Great!" Darla enthused. "C'mon, Roc. . I mean, Miss Rockwell. Let's go use the bathroom first and then get some fresh air and sunshine."

Darla waited until the girl had left for her own room before turning to Jane. "That went well," Jane said with a pleased smile. "Both of you played your parts to perfection so that I can be seen as fair but picky. Darla? I think I will have to punish you, though, and soon. You are doing what needs be done, I think, at least based on our student's responses, but you are going to have to walk a tight edge. You can make the best of it, but I think you will be in your Shirley Temple rompers by Saturday."

"No problem, Momma-Jane. Truth to tell, I can't wait to see Rocky's face when I do come down in that outfit with that ridiculous wig on."

"PLEASE - do NOT call her Rocky!"

Diana chuckled. "Well, hopefully, we will have an alternative to that once Darla introduces Chastity to Old Tom," she said before turning to Darla. "So. Got any ideas of what to name our little GG?"

Darla was about to shrug her shoulders when something clicked in her mind. *So THAT'S who I was remembering. I wonder. . . * A wide grin split Darla's face. "You know? I think I do!" She walked over and kissed her two adoptive parents. "See you in an hour or so. I plan to get to Tom last."

"But what are you. . ." Jane called, only to have the door shut between her and the departing boy-girl. "Well!" she said frustrated.

Diana only laughed. "You know, darling . . ."

"What?" Jane shot back, still fuming at not knowing Darla's plan.

"We have about an hour with no responsibilities," Diana said in a darkly sultry voice as she closed on her wife. "And I know just how to make the best possible use of it."

A tingle of desire curled in Jane's middle, but it warred with her sense of responsibility. "But I should watch them from the win-mrrmmphh. . ." her words were cut off by one of Diana's devastating lipstick-flavored kisses. "On the other hand," she gulped out when her lips were reluctantly freed, "Darla knows the program about as well as I do . . . ."

 

 

 

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