Transitional Summer

by Mardee Louise Prynne

  

The breakup of my most recent affair left me feeling paralyzed and vulnerable. Dreams born of memories kept me going until I could focus on the changes that had to be made. I enjoyed my teaching but wanted to have a more substantial effect on my students than could be realized in a run of the mill junior college in a city. To explore an alternative, I contrived to spend my summer as an adjunct instructor at a school called the Janus Academy. It was meant to be a summer of reflection, a time to consider my goals, to transition from my nomadic lifestyle filled with changes, an existence punctuated by intense emotional highs and lows. It was a summer of transitions more ways than I could have anticipated; profoundly so for others as well as for me.

*****

I first met the dean of staff when I interviewed in the city . Dr. Gwen Laurent was an exotically beautiful woman of middle years, businesslike yet seductive. Dr. Laurent understood me pretty well. She promised me a catharsis and a renaissance at the Janus Academy. The photos of the campus were impressive. The adjacent small town was almost idyllic.

My teaching load was not very heavy; a few courses in European history and culture prior to nineteen seventeen, art history.

I was quite taken with Dr. Laurent. Her dark Welsh beauty coupled with intense green eyes gave her a cat like appearance that was enhanced by her quick, graceful movements. Her British accent added to her exotic appeal. Her dark gray dress flowed softly over her curves. Silver jewelry of unusual designs added to her allure.

Indiscretion might have ended my summer at Janus even before it began had not Dr. Laurent been of a surprisingly liberal nature. We had been out for dinner and would conclude our discussion in an apartment belonging to a friend of my prospective employer.

Dr. Laurent was as relaxed as a cat as she sat on the couch. I was distracted from the conversation as she curled her legs under her allowing me a very fleeting glance of the edge of her dark stockings tops. Her smile could have been simply a relaxed smile or it might have been one of triumph at how quickly she had me under her control. The discussion of my literary background seemed to impress her. My education, much of which had been in Europe and England, interested her. That I had an honorable discharge from the military meant that I couldn't be drafted and so would offer continuity. She hinted at things that I've never put on a resume.

Dr. Laurent, it turned out, was fully cognizant of my family background. I was startled by how much she knew of the Russian folk healing I had learned from my mother. Dr. Laurent had been probing into my personal history as well as checking my resume. Gwen was pleased that I was fully conversant with this odd bit of lore. It puzzled me because it had little to do with my teaching credentials nor with the course work I would be teaching. There were hints that she suspected my family's involvement in 'traditional' healing; traditional that is if you go outside the framework of modern medicine.

As we chatted, she crossed, ran her finger tips over her calves as if checking for snags, and recrossed her legs. Her shoe dangled from her foot as she extended her leg toward my face. Her eyes moved from my hands to her foot. I massaged her arch. She rested her calf on my shoulder. The black tops of her stockings were a contrast in texture to the smoothness of her thighs with their light, golden tan. She scissored her legs around my neck and twisted me to the floor!

"Do call me Gwen."

Gwen brought her feet to the edge of couch, her knees parted. The glistening pink nylon was pulled taut over her crotch. The straining fabric emphasized her labia. Stray pubic hairs showed along the flat lace leg bands.

I was on my knees. Gwen kissed me deeply. She moved my face from hers and guided it to her crotch. I tasted her juices as they soaked through the nylon of her panties. Her fingers eased the panty crotch aside allowing my tongue to trace the cleft.

Gwen's palm was on my forehead as she shoved me to the floor. I rose to my feet as Gwen undid my fly and eased my pants down my legs. Soon I stood before her in only my white briefs.

I lay on the floor as Gwen lowered her crotch to my face. She pulled my face to her cunt. I nibbled at her clit, darted my tongue deep into her. She reached back and grasped my balls. Suddenly she screeched as her juices flowed into my mouth. Her fingers brought me to a screaming climax a moment after she came.

It was wonderfully erotic but I was sure my prospects for a job were gone. Then came another shocker. "You're energy is perfectly suited to what we need. We want you to be a part of our circle...I'm sorry! I meant to say faculty." Coming on the heels of the elusive mutual orgasm, it was a remark that bordered on bizarre.

 

Gwen smoothed her skirt and sat demurely on the couch. "Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. You look ever so awkward standing there full of cum."

I complied.

"We'll expect you at Janus the week after your term ends. Dr. Judith Masden will speak with you but I'm sure she'll find you as acceptable as I do. Her assistant will make arrangements. Call and ask for Miss Ronnie. She likes the girls to use her first name."

I was surprised at the ease with which Dr. Gwen Laurent went from conducting an interview to luring me to perform oral sex and back to an interview again. This was not the least of the surprises that Janus Academy would hold.

*****

It was cloudy as I drove from the city to Janus Academy. The sun began to break through as I left the interstate and followed the map and directions further and further away from well traveled roads. A sign that read "WARNING/ REDUCED SPEED AHEAD" told me I was nearing my destination.

The village was lovely. A few shops, a pub, tearoom. All catered to class. There were knots of girls ranging from about ten to late teens and twenty or so here and there. Some wore gray or light blue uniform skirts with white blouses while others wore jumpers over tees. Even at a distance, I could see the emblem of Janus on the breast pockets. These girls were beyond impressive. They had a well scrubbed, outdoorsy yet feminine glow. None were unattractive. Even the few boys who wore some semblance of a Janus uniform were surprisingly nice looking, nice looking enough to be thought of as pretty! Many of the girls reeked of class, breeding, and old money; the rest smelled of new money.

It was a simple matter to follow the trail of girls down the main street and just out of the village to the campus.

*****

A girl of about fourteen greeted me. "You look lost. Maybe I can direct you. This is my second summer at Janus. My mummy, I mean my mother, says I can go full-time when I finish grammar school.

"You must be new faculty. You want Dr. Masden's office. Miss Ronnie's there already. Good thing she has Miss Ronnie or she couldn't get anything done right."

I couldn't help smiling at this girl's unabashed enthusiasm and outspoken opinions. Odd, though, that she would want to tell me she wasn't yet a full time student. There was glint in her eye that was beyond mischievous.

"I'm Greg Davies," I offered.

"Ricki Loring," responded my would be guide as she proffered a handshake.

Ricki pointed out the building that was both home and office to Dr. Masden and her assistant. I pulled in and parked the car.

I turned to wave goodbye to Ricki but she was approaching the parking area in front of the building. For a moment I wasn't sure whether this fey young creature was a boy or a girl. Her cropped red brown hair and green eyes gave her face a cat like charm.

A scoop necked tee barely met the top of her shorts As she knelt down to tie the laces of her sneakers, the tee slipped out of her shorts which then gapped in back to reveal the scalloped edge of the blue elastic waist band of what had to be blue cotton panties. Despite her boyish qualities, or because of them, it was plain to see that Ricki would grow to be a very comely adolescent and later a beautiful woman. This sylph, barely out of childhood, was already formidably attractive.

Ricki turned her face over shoulder and looked up at me. "I might as well stay and help you find your cottage."

*****

"You must be Greg Davies. I'm Ronnie, general factotum to Dr. Masden. I'm more than a bit like Pooh-Bah, everything but Lord High Executioner. Maybe I'll get that chore one of these days. We'll see you in the morning. Here're the keys to your cottage...I see you and Ricki have found each other. No doubt Ricki'll be more than happy to guide you."

I noticed a double picture frame holding a pair of photos. One was a picture of Ronnie and a slightly older woman, arms around each other's waist as they smiled at the camera during what must have been a summer outing. The other picture was headshot of that other woman. She was attractive, handsome rather than pretty but beautiful nonetheless. Ronnie picked up the frame and showed me the pictures. "Dr. Jodi Matthews," she said wistfully as her eyes teared. "Masden's predecessor. We were lovers if that's what you're wondering. She didn't deserve to die like she did...Cancer... Tried to make it easy for me to let her go."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Thanks for the sentiment but it was just another absurdity of life. We'll talk about it sometime if you care to hear." She paused and took a couple of deep breaths before dismissing me. "Sorry to rush you out but I've work to do. I promise we'll talk more if you like."

Miss Ronnie called after me as I stepped out the door. "Careful of Ricki though. There's more to her than meets the eye. She can be a real handful so take care not to get caught up in her little games."

*****

The handful was sitting in passenger seat of my car when I exited the building. I folded my arms across my chest and tried to stare her down. "Okay, so Miss Ronnie warned you about me. Big deal!" She stepped out of the car. She tilted her head in what had to be a deliberate imitation of a sad puppy. Her flirtatiousness was charming.

"Get back in. I need a really good guide."

"I can guide you but lots of people say I'm just too naughty to be good." With that warning said, the lithe little amazon vaulted over the door of the convertible and plopped her self comfortably in the passenger seat.

"I'm impressed. You're pretty athletic."

"Kind of ironic that you say so. In school at home, I was always left out of most games." She reached into my shirt pocket for my cigarettes, took two and returned the pack. She tapped the cigarette ends on the dash board to tamp down the tobacco. "I'm impressed again," I said, trying to sound judgmental as she lit the pair of cigarettes together and put one to my lips.

"You're kind of young to smoke, let alone be so experienced at it."

"And you're kind of young to sound like an old fart...Sorry. I didn't really mean it, kind of just slipped out. You seem so much nicer and more open than most of the temporary instructors here." She deliberately put her hand on my wrist to catch my attention. "I promise I'll make it up to you if you let me."

She leaned close to me as she spoke, so close that I felt her warm breath on my face. "Back off," I told myself. "This is a little girl entrusted to your care. How in the hell are you reacting to her? What you're feeling isn't adult affection for a kid; she's turning you on and you're not only allowing it, you're really enjoying it!"

I put the car in neutral, pressed down on the starter pedal and put it in gear. The imp leaned back against the door, looked at me and curled one leg under the opposite thigh. She made sure the hem of her blue panties showed under her very abbreviated shorts. I took a couple of pulls on the cigarette and started to relax to the point where I was able to put Ricki in perspective. She was just another brash teen, maybe just a preteen. Makes no difference to me how old this runt is, I told myself. What was so unsettling to me was that I was inexorably drawn to her despite my professional scruples and my fear of winding up being accused of Lord only knows what.

"You know once the summer session really starts, even before, when everyone is on campus for orientation, I'm going have to conform to the dress codes. No way am I ever going to really, really conform."

A number of boys, younger than many of the girls on the campus, were seated on the steps of one of the dorms. I was struck by their unusual body language, their graceful movements. Most were oddly attractive in ways that could only be called androgynous. They wore polos and shorts, shorts that were perhaps identical to those worn by many of the girls I had noticed. It felt like my heart skipped a beat with the surge of adrenaline that was released as I became Ricki sensed that I had noticed this group, that I had reacted to these remarkably comely boys. She answered my unasked question "Oh, that's the dorm for incoming boys. Janus really does wonders for boys like that. You'll see how much they change, how they grow when they're here. You may find it unbelievable but enjoyable, even satisfying to behold." There was a knowing, secretive quality to what she said. My curiosity was piqued but, remembering Ronnie's warning, I said nothing.

We parked on the driveway of a tiny cottage near the far edge of the campus. A few similar cottages were visible through the trees. "Guess you'll be okay now. Thanks for the ride."

"Ricki, wait a second. It's quite a walk back. Let me drive you to your dorm."

"Thanks anyway, but you've got to unload and get unpacked. Say, I've got an idea. We unload the car and I'll drive back to my dorm and get changed and then we can go out for dinner. Dutch treat."

"You're going to drive?"

"Well I do have a license." She pulled her a thin wallet from the front of her shorts and showed me her driver's license. I felt the raised seal, looked carefully at the photo. The date of birth startled me. I had figured her to be sixteen at the oldest and that this would be some sort of junior license. There was no question that this was no kid, no budding fourteen year old. Ricki was nineteen and would soon turn twenty!

"Stop looking so surprised."

"I feel like a fool. I mean I..."

"Don't sweat it. Tons of people think I'm a little kid. Has its advantages. I get into the movies at children's prices and I can buy clothes in the young teens department. So there, now you don't have to feel guilty about me either."

I blushed, something I rarely do. Can this sprite read my mind? It's as if she knew I was responding to her in very basic, very carnal ways. There was a charm, a spontaneity to her flirtatiousness that was lacking in the pseudo-sophisticated women that I knew. This girl I dismissed as a child was less than six years younger than my twenty-five years. Time to change the subject.

"You don't really have a foreign accent but the thing is that you don't have any trace of a regional accent."

"Good ear," she laughed. "My family was from Wales but Mummy and I were in London when the blitz started. I was sent to the countryside to stay with my mother's older sister. Mummy was killed in a air raid."

"How awful for you."

"Thanks. I'm as over it as I'll ever be. Aunt Gwen became my mother, my protector, my mentor. I owe her so very much. So, now you know why I sound like I do."

Ricki had gone from being a playful imp to a serious , introspective young woman wise beyond her years.

"Then that stuff about being allowed to attend here once you finish grammar school..."

"Just putting you on. I could tell by the way you looked at me that you thought I was a baby. I just carried your impression a step further."

This girl was clever and perceptive with a quick, subtle wit. It might turn out to be a very dangerous mix.

"I know you met Aunt Gwen when she interviewed you."

Great! I had it off with the director of staff and now I've got the hots for her little niece. I can kiss this place good-bye before I've even settled in.

"Now, may I take your car and pick you up later?"

"Oh, yeah, sure."

She slid behind the wheel. Our lips met briefly as I handed her the keys.

"Later," she smiled and blew me a kiss as she backed the car onto the road.

*****

It took me a while to find the phone but whoever was calling was persistent. Heavy breathing on the other end followed by a girlish giggle. "Hi Greg. This is your obscene phone call for the day."

"Come off it Ricki. I haven't even started unpacking."

"I'll be over in an hour. Just shower. You can shave if you feel lucky."

"Where are we going? No that it matters, just so I know what to wear."

"Hey, this is supposed to be an obscene phone call! I think I'm supposed to ask what you're wearing."

"Give me a break. Can't you be serious for a few minutes?"

"But I am serious. Okay. Since you won't tell me what you're wearing, I guess I have to tell you what I'm wearing. Cotton briefs with little tiny rosebuds printed on them. Soft white cotton training bra with a little blue bow between the cups. People will think I'm your niece or something. That way you won't get fresh with me but I can tease you to bits."

"Imp!"

"See you in an hour, my sweet dirty old man."

 

The car door slammed shut about a minute before the bell rang. I gasped at the site of Ricki who now looked no older than twelve or, perhaps thirteen. She wore a loose fitting flower print dress. The light behind her made it painfully obvious that she wore no slip. Pink ankle socks complemented the flowers of the print dress. The scoop neck concealed her bra straps but she somehow contrived to let one slip off her shoulder and along her upper arm so that she had to adjust it. A narrow leather band held her Mickey Mouse watch in place. She brushed her fingers through her through her bangs and fluffed the sides of her waifish hairstyle.

"Close your mouth. Didn't your folks teach you that it's impolite to stare?" She stood on tiptoe and put her mouth over mine. My resolve to resist her didn't last at all. Our tongues met. I felt Ricki push me into the house. She switched off the hall light as she wrapped her legs around my waist.

My arms held her under her hips. Despite her little girl masquerade, I could feel she was wearing a pantygirdle. Still, she was projecting an eroticism made all the more intense, all the more urgent by her appearing as child on the edge of womanhood.

She pulled her skirt up over her hips. "Look. My panties show through! You can see the rose bud print through my girdle.

Ricki managed to steer me to the living room where we fell backwards onto the couch. She straddled my chest and began playfully kissing my face as her hand took mine and guided it to her bosom. Go ahead and feel me. You can tell I'm wearing a brassiere."

Her breasts were small mounds of softness capped with very erect nipples. The training bra, a new innovation at that time, did little to conceal her flawless little tits. That this pseudo child was wearing a bra added to the many contrasts that gave Ricki an irresistible seductiveness. She kissed me once again as she reached back to open my belt. "Oooh, someone's very, very hard. We can't go out with you in that condition." She was now kneeling next to the couch. "Raise your hips," she ordered as she pulled my trousers down.

In a moment Ricki had her fingers wrapped around the base of my cock as she tasted my precum. Wordlessly she placed a knee on each side of my head as her tongue spiraled over the rim of my cockhead. She slid further back so the crotch of her pantygirdle was inches from my face. Her mouth engulfed my cockhead as her fingers ran over the shaft. Slowly she swallowed the entire shaft. Her fingers teased my balls with a skill that I never dreamed could be achieved by one so young. My back arched as she crushed my balls in her tiny hand. The pain intensified my orgasm beyond endurance as I erupted in her very talented mouth.

"Just because I've had my appetizer doesn't mean we're not going to dinner. Get put together."

I returned from the bathroom a minute or two later to find Ricki sitting on the couch with her legs draped over the arm, the backs of her thighs open to view as far the hem and then some of her oh so innocent yet terribly arousing little girl panties. The pantygirdle dangled from her finger tips. "Didn't think I would need this to protect my virtue with such a gallant gentleman. Besides, it's going to take you a while to get your energy back."

I swallowed hard as the tip of her tongue slid slowly over her lips. Miss Imp already had me to the point where I could perform for her in an instant. That, I thought, was merely academic. There was, I was afraid, going to be precious few opportunities to find out how well I could perform.

 

I held the door for her as she slid out of the passenger seat. I offered her my hand as an aid in getting out of the car. She took it but didn't let go. Her hip pressed against me as we walked out of the local parking lot and turned onto the main street. Ricki dropped my hand and slipped her arm through mine. Somehow she managed to lean her head against my chest as we walked. The smell of her freshly shampooed hair was more enticing than the rarest perfumes.

We turned onto a side street. To my surprise she led me to a Chinese restaurant where we greeted by an exotically beautiful Eurasian hostess whose traditional cheongsam showed no cleavage but gave a full view of a very well turned leg. Ricki gave me a solid jab in my ribs with her elbow.

The hostess guided us to a quiet booth in an alcove off the main part of the dining room. "No menu?" I mused aloud. "I took the liberty of calling ahead for Peking duck."

The hostess returned a minute or two later and presented a chilled bottle of Cru Beaujolais for Ricki's approval. "My little girl has clout!" I thought but then reminded myself she's not mine, not in any way, shape or form. Even at that moment, I knew it was something to be thankful for.

We toasted and sipped. "Relax. This wine will carry the duck without killing its subtleties."

"You amaze me. First of all, you knew what I was thinking. Number two and even more amazing is your sophistication. Never had Beaujolais with duck before."

"Yes, but Peking duck is os unique. Aunt Gwen taught me well."
Damn! She had to remind me that she was Gwen Laurent's niece.

The duck was superb, the conversation fascinating, and my little girl dinner companion was totally clever and whimsical.

We held hands as we strolled the commercial streets window shopping our way back to the car. Ricki was at her provocative best as she described how she would wear the intimates shown in the window of the ladies specialty shop. This little nymph had my cock stirring and she knew it.

"Perhaps one of these evenings we can have a private fashion show just for you."

She stepped in front of me, pressed against me as she lifted her arms, placed them around my neck, and stood on tiptoe to bring her lips to mine. The first kiss was lasted a few seconds. Our mouths separated. "You're so beautiful, just hold me." I took her in my arms as she kissed me over and over again, little bites of her lips that were promises of what could be. A long deep kiss said more than words ever could. "Take me home, Greg. If you say 'your place or mine' I'll scream. Just anywhere we can be alone together."

As I started to open the passenger car door for Ricki, she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind me and playfully ran her fingers over the front of my trousers. I felt her belly brush against me. She turned her back to the car seat and lowered herself into it before raising her feet and turning forward. Throughout this maneuver Ricki managed to keep her dress at a demure level.

Not so once I was seated behind the wheel. She fanned herself with the skirt and let it fall high on her thighs. Once we were on the road back to Janus, she rested her feet on the dash allowing her skirt to fall almost to her hips. I almost ran the car into the ditch as I glanced at those panties.

Ricki turned the rearview mirror so that it reflected her smooth thighs and the hem of her panties. She put her arm through mine and leaned against me. "You are so, so weird, Greg. You are so interested in these panties that would look silly on a twelve year old. That is so, so sick. You know, that's what I like about you!" Her spontaneous laughter was marred by a tone of self irony. "Greg, it may be weird but I really appreciate you to put it mildly. No one else I know of would take a liking to an adult who looks like a kid, a kid who hasn't even had a period yet." Tears were building up in her eyes, trickling down her cheeks.

"Ricki, you're just so very beautiful, so bright. There's so much to know about you. I don't know what's going to happen between us but..."

"Okay, Greg. No predictions, no promises, no guarantees. However it happens, we'll just let it happen . Promise?"

"I promise." I pulled the car to the edge of the road, kissed away her tears.

"Hold me, hold me. I'm so damned frightened."

We drove awhile, stopped for coffee in a little diner. The waitress knew Ricki and asked after Dr. Laurent. We held hands across the table as we fed each other apple pie and strawberry rhubarb pie.

"Don't ask me anything right now. Maybe it'll make sense to you down the road. Might never make sense. I'm scared. I've never, ever wanted to give myself over to someone as totally as I want to give myself over to you." She pressed my hand in hers and held tightly.

Ricki was deliberately vague as she explained that Gwen and her sister, Ricki's mum, had raised her to be part of a very special, very old culture. She knew I would understand because I knew something about 'the old religion.'

"Please, Greg, take me home."

*****

Once back on campus I followed her directions. "This won't take us to the dorms," I commented.

"I'm not in a dorm. I live with Aunt Gwen. Relax. She's away for at least another week."

We exited the campus by a side gate and pulled up to Gwen's house immediately adjacent to the campus.

"Please come in. There's room for you to stay and for us to keep it decent at the same time. It's awfully late and your place is still at sixes and sevens."

"Thanks. I'll take you up on that."

Ricki managed a sad smile. "I suppose this is when I'm supposed to excuse myself to slip into something more comfortable. Care for a Drambuie before bed?"

She leaned back against me as we sipped the Drambuie. "Be a love and undo my zip."

The dress fell to her ankles. I moved away as she reached out and took my hands in hers as she stepped over the fallen dress. She smiled that wistful smile once again. Her hand slipped out of mine and covered her mons. It was as if this new modesty was meant to communicate to me that she was not yet ready to reveal all, let alone 'go all the way.' Intellect intervened over instinct, not only for Ricki but for me as well. I was not yet comfortable with the thought of starting an affair with a student under my charge, especially not one who managed to look like she was entering early adolescence. And yet, despite all reason, despite all ordinary instinct, that was made Ricki so overwhelmingly desirable.

"I'm going to be very rude." Ricki's voice had a teasing quality.

"How is that?"

"By turning my back to you!" She turned and pressed her tush against my groin. We fit together rather well making me thankful for once that I'm only about five seven.

I nuzzled her neck, kissed her ears. Ricki covered her breasts with my hands. My palms tingled as I felt her hard nipples under the stitched cotton of her brassiere. A sudden mood change caused her to groan a drawn out 'NOO! What are we doing?" Her shoulders heaved as she breathed deeply but irregularly. She swung her body from side to side in an attempt to shake me off. The whole thing was freaky, weird.

I tried to restrain Ricki by wrapping my arms around her. "Leave me alone, Greg. I'm okay." She dropped to her knees, slipping out of my grasp as she dis so. This agile spitfire grabbed my ankle, darted forward and got to her feet with lightning swiftness. As she rose so did my leg. I went over backwards and landed on my butt as Ricki retained her grip on my ankle. She swung her leg over mine and applied pressure causing me excruciating pain. In a matter of seconds this petite pixie of an adolescent had knocked me down and taken complete control. The situation had changed from one in which I was exulting in my small size to one in which I wished I wasn't as short and as thin as I was. Still, I had the distinct feeling that Ricki could take on and easily defeat guys a lot bigger than my diminutive size. She was fast, surprisingly powerful and executed her movements with a smoothness and skill that could only be the products of training and practice.

"Damn it all, Greg! Why did you make me do that? I didn't mean to hurt you." she was on her knees beside me now. She kissed my lips, repeatedly. "Forgive me. I'm just so sorry."

"Nothing to forgive. I should be asking your forgiveness for grabbing you like that. I'm sorry..."

She put her hand lightly over my mouth. "Greg, I'm just scared that if we...well, you know, before you really know what I'm all about you'll hate me for loving you, for making you love me."

She kissed me before I could answer. "Don't say anything. Promise?" Her tongue was in my mouth before I could speak. Ricki rested her head on my chest as we dozed off.

I stirred lightly without any sense of how long we had napped on the floor. I glanced at the mantle clock. Forty minutes or so had gone by. I knelt next to Ricki and lifted her in my arms intending to put her on the couch and then cover her in some way.

As I carried her across the room, she opened her eyes and smiled. "Not here, silly." She directed me to her bedroom at the second floor hall. The room was bright with the light of the half moon. I was too obvious as I noticed a very unusual arrangement of objects on a low dresser. "Don't gape," said Ricki with a smile in her voice. "Surely, you know a Wiccan altar when you see one."

"I can't really say why not, but this doesn't surprise me. Obviously Aunt Gwen approves or at least tolerates."

"Beyond approval. She's my teacher, my guide." That explained Gwen's slip about joining 'our circle.'

"Well, I'll be..."

"Merry meet, love." We kissed as I deposited her on the bed.

"Please stay the night. I need someone to tuck me in."

"Love to."

Ricki turned her back to me as she unhooked her bra, let if fall, then wiggled out of her panties. She disappeared into her bathroom but peeked at me from behind the door. "Your room is at the end of the hall. There's a robe in the closet. Bathroom's next door. New tooth brushes are in the medicine cabinet. Shower as soon as I'm done. Plenty of hot water. Remember, I need you to tuck me in. Don't laugh. I'm perfectly serious."

 

Ricki's door was ajar, her light on as I stepped into the hall. "Do come in." She spoke even before I rapped softly against her door post. Ricki was resting her tush on her feet as she knelt on the bed. A modest short sleeved cotton nightie barely cover her knees. Her hair gleamed as she brushed it slowly. She stood on the bed and slid under the covers. "Greg," she said softly, then paused. "Thanks for putting up with my moods. Say, are you naked under that robe? Don't answer. I can see you are. Should've given you a pack of new panties, plain white cotton like boys' briefs. Oh, don't blush. You've done that before."

I squirmed uncomfortably. How could this girl know about my early experimentation? It was silly stuff although I was really great as Rosalind in my prep school production of "As You Like It." How much did Gwen Laurent know about me and how of it did she tell Ricki?

I looked at Ricki who lay with her hair spread over the pillow. "I usually braid it or sometimes put in baby bunches but I'm too weary to tonight. Now, tuck me in. I need a good-night kiss." She switched off the bedside lamp. The curtains fluttered as the breeze came in through the open windows. Our lips rested together as my hand stroked the unbelievable silkiness of Ricki's hair. Tongues touched very briefly as the tender but sensual kiss ended.

"Greg, this can be very, very comfortable for a long, long time...like forever. But remember, you promised to let whatever happens just happen. I can't ask you to promise to forgive me if we end up loving each other, but I just hope you will. God, I'm babbling. Night."

I kissed her once more, a quick fleeting kiss that tasted of bittersweet hope.

 

Visions of Ricki, of Dr. Gwen Laurent, of my 'attiring' to play Rosalind slipped through my mind as I quickly fell into a deep and restful sleep. The mistakes and tragedies of the last few years would fade. A time of healing was at hand. I just didn't't think that Ricki was the person I wanted to be healed by. The more I reflected, the more certain I was of that.

*****

The cool summer dawn and a full bladder stirred me out of my sleep. I emptied my bladder and fell back asleep. I awoke an hour or two later as Ricki plopped her sexy little tush on my tummy and bounced up and down. She rolled on top of me and kissed me even as she tickled my ribs. "Give?"

"Okay, I give."

"Great. Get dressed. Breakfast'll be ready soon. Siobhan had the night off so I'm cooking for us."

A pair of brand new Bermuda shorts, men's, and a polo shirt were on the dresser. How was Ricki able to get these over night and in my size? I showered quickly. There really wasn't any need for shaving. Shaving was, for me, more of a ritual than a necessity given my fair complexion and almost total absence of any facial hair.

Something lay on the Bermuda shorts and polo shirt, something that hadn't been there before; an unopened pack of 'Lollipop' brand cotton panties with a note taped to it. "These will feel ever so much nicer than wearing what you wore last night. No one'll ever know. Hugs, Ricki"

Why not? These would feel fresher and give me a slightly kinky glow. Really, there's no way plain white cotton panty briefs, totally tailored, totally unornamented would ever be considered high drag. As I slipped them on I wondered if Ricki was also getting a kinky glow knowing what I was wearing under my Bermudas. I glanced at myself in the full length mirror, turned my back to the glass and snapped the hem over my bottom in a fair imitation of that ever so sexy gesture that girls often use to advantage in turning on guys like me.

I hadn't thought about if for a very long time but a distant memory came back to me. There was an espisode when my mother and I were spending a summer on the New England coast. Some branch of my father's family was trying to get me from her, felt she was unfit because of her entanglement in what they labeled bizarre lore. Well, she was smart enough not to have married him. Mother dressed me as a girl and being all of seven or eight and not very much into boy things, I loved it! This paved the way for my ease in doing Rosalind at prep school.

Ricki knocked on my door and opened it in one gesture. "You are so, so poky." She wrapped her arm around my waist, draped my arm over she shoulder and started down the backstairs for the kitchen. Coffee and toast were on the table in a small breakfast nook that looked out across a meadow and onto some sort of bay. "We match," smiled Ricki as she called drew my attention to the similarity of our shorts and polos. The big difference was that mine were Bermudas while Ricki's were so short they barely covered her tush. She pulled the waistband of her shorts away from her tummy. I couldn't resist glancing at front of her panties. "My turn," she murmured as she pulled on the waistband of my Bermudas. "Greg, you really are a good sport. Our secret though." Another kiss.

The sausage and eggs were done to perfection. Ricki put the plates to soak in the dish pan. This little bundle of energy had the pan scoured before I could finish clearing. I dried the dishes as she handed them to me.

We held hands as Ricki showed me the gardens around the house. I was impressed by the many, many plants that had healing, curative and other special properties. Impressive too was Ricki's mastery of the uses of these plants. Ricki, like Aunt Gwen, was aware of my familiarity with folk medicine.

As we rounded the front of the rambling Victorian house, a pickup truck turned onto the driveway. "Greg, I deserve a spanking. I called Aunt Gwen and asked her if you could stay here with us. I know I deserve to be spanked for not asking you but you were asleep. Anyhow, they're bringing all your stuff over here. Don't be angry. There's a room off your bedroom that can be your private study."

"Ricki, what a great idea! It'll work out, I'm sure. I'm thrilled not angry."

"You mean I don't get spanked! Darn." She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me on every part of my face. She hung on as I spun around. Ricki clung onto my neck as her feet left the ground. After a few turns we fell to the grass laughing in each other's arms.

Our fingertips touched lightly as we caught our breath. I wasn't sure whether to pull my hand away, leave it in place, or hold Ricki's hand. My companion resolved the problem by entwining her fingers with mine, pulling my hand to her mouth where she kissed it, and then rested her hand, still entwined in my fingers in her lap. Ricki smiled as our eyes met, her lips puckered for a second as she leaned forward and kissed me. Despite her childlike appearance, Ricki was able to turn any moment into something romantically special.

 

We walked wordlessly along a river bank for the next hour or two. Time ceased to exist for me as we hands strolling along the river bank, occasionally pausing to experience its serene pastoral beauty. As we watched trout in a clear pool, Ricki leaned her head against my shoulder. I turned my face to hers, a prelude to a casual kiss followed by a second, more intense open mouthed kiss. Ricki's arms were around my neck as I cupped her tush in my hands, felt the hem of her panties through her shorts. Her heart was pounding against my chest.

"Greg, I want you to have me. Just promise you won't hate me."

We resumed our walk as Ricki shifted to a tour guide mode. "This area is rich in legend. In the nineteenth century stories abounded of women, often bond servants, who practiced strange rites along the river bank. These poor women were nothing less than practitioners of natural healing, herbalists if you will. They refused to bow to the demands of their masters. They were often starved or beaten to death. I want you to see something."

We came to a marshy area. An old church in the Norman style stood on a small hill. It was as if we had been transported to part of the English coast. "Sometimes practitioners of the old religion assemble here to honor the God of Christians and Jews as well as the old deities. Quite unique."

She gave me a knowing smile that told me how she knew this it be true.

"We've got get back. I promised I would decorate the altar for Sunday. Not here. St. Swithin's, the Episcopal Church in town. Janus is really far out in a lot of ways but they want the young ladies not only to be church goers but to attend the correct church, the WASPiest church."

 

We had sandwiches and lemonade on the back porch of Gwen's house.

Someone had been thoughtful enough to have them ready for us. It was the same someone who had unpacked my belongings and very carefully hung up everything that didn't belong in drawers. As we finished lunch, a beautiful red-haired woman materialized to remove the plates and trays. This was

Siobhan. I was struck by her flawless alabaster skin, unmarred by the sun, as she silently removed the detritus of our lunch.

"Siobahn, this is Greg Davies, our guest. We'll have our tea when we get back from the church."

"Yes, Miss Erica. Welcome, sir. Let me know if I can do anything to make you more comfortable. Thank you, Miss." She dropped a subtle curtsy as she backed away from the table and into the kitchen.

"Shouldn't we change before we go off to help at the church."

"Of course. See you in a few minutes."

I grabbed a quick shower and toweled dry. The two remaining pairs of panties still were on the top of the dresser as if left there to remind of what I had worn as underpants earlier in the day. Opening the drawer I pulled out a pair of man's briefs and immediately let them fall back into the drawer. The panties would be more comfortable. I slipped into chinos and a fresh polo shirt and sat down on the steps of the front porch to wait for Ricki. I rose and turned to face Ricki as soon as I heard the front door open. My jaw dropped at the striking young beauty who stood before me. Ricki was a picture out of a romantic novel. The gauzy fabric of her flower print dress stirred, pressed against her body as the breeze brought us fresh scents form the garden. Flat strappy sandals couldn't detract from the chiseled perfection of her slender ankles. The Empire waist emphasized her tiny but oh so well shaped breasts unfettered by any restraining brassiere. The wide brim of her soft straw hat framed her pretty face. She looked all of fifteen. Wasn't that Clara Wieg's age when Robert Schumann fell in love with her?

Ricki lifted her long skirt to her knees as she took my hand to descend the steps. She pressed my hand in hers sending a tingle through me. Her arm was around my waist as we walked to the car. Her hand managed to slip down onto my bottom. She pressed my cheek sending a electrical tingle through my groin. I smiled to myself as her fingertips traced the hem of my panties. "Mmm. sooo sexy. Thanks, Greg, for indulging me."

An abundance of flowers filled the vestry with the smell of a hundred gardens. Ricki was deliberate as she trimmed stems, rearranged vases and urns, and finally, set the flowers around the altar and the pulpit.

"You're a girl of many talents."

"You don't know the half of it. I hope I don't frighten you off when you start to know the real me."

"Doubtful. I'm wondering about Janus though. To all appearances it's a school for privileged young ladies with a few boys, rather unusual boys to be sure, but you make it seem ...I don't know, puzzling, clandestine."

"Arcane is the word you want. I might as well tell you. I was very different when I was little. Gwen understood and indulged my needs, structured my talents. The village folk found out Gwen was a Wiccan priestess and hounded us. We eventually came to Janus because Gwen thought I could develop here and that she could develop a circle. It was true but only to a point. Now even that's changing. There's an element in the leadership here that despises the old ways and wants this place to be just another academy for girls although the girls here are often different."

"How do you mean different?"

"Did you notice the boys? Kind of femme, right? Remember I said they go through changes here at Janus. Well, here at Janus they learn to live as girls. They're happier and more effective as girls than as boys."

I found it hard to believe but I remembered how much happier I was playing Rosalind than when I was just another boy. I remembered too how delighted I was when I was hidden as a girl that summer in New England. This was making sense to me! Hadn't I just opted for panties over men's underpants?

"So they want to create preppies without recognizing that these are special beings with an essence closer to nature and the spirit world than most people can ever hope to achieve."

"Gwen refuses to give in to that faction. That's why we wanted you here, to be part of our circle. I don't want to go too far into this. Gwen will be back soon. Then she can tell you everything."

"Everything?" I was certain Gwen would tell me everything she wanted me to know and no more.

"Sure. Why not?.. Now, what are we going to do this evening? Care to drive about an hour? There's an amusement park that's all kinds of let your hairdown fun. Shall I be the all American high school girl or would you like me younger? "

"Surprise me."

"I will."

Of that I was sure.

*****

Ricki surprised me each time I saw her. This time she had transformed herself into the perfect bourgeois adolescent. She could have been sixteen or seventeen in her white sleeveless blouse with its fashionably turned up collar. A cinch belt emphasized her tiny waist as her dark cotton skirt draped loosely over her hips. No stockings. Flat ballet slipper look shoes. A clutch purse held all she needed. She wore a touch of lipstick, some eyeliner and mascara. Her hair was brushed back into the popular DA style. A silver bracelet, a watch and a ring were complemented by emerald stud earrings. I was transfixed as she caught the hem of her skirt in her hands and raised it to her hips. I never before realized that wholesome pink panty briefs could be that wildly sexy. "See, no pantygirdle," she smiled as she showed me her panty covered derriere.

We drove slowly along the shore road stopping at a drive in for hot dogs and root beer.

"You've got mustard on your lip," observed Ricki. "Let me take care of it." She brought her face close to mine and flicked away the bit of mustard with her tongue.

We strolled arm in arm along the amusement park section of the boardwalk in a town called Bayville, a town that had long since seen its best days. Games of skill and chance beckoned. Rides galore. We started on the carousel with Ricki riding side saddle, her legs extended as the ride picked up speed. The backs of her thighs drew glances from many guys, some with dates, others on their own with a few other guys.

We paused to watch a few locals trying to win stuffed animals by knocking wooden milk bottles off a stand with a baseball. My mediocre but accurate style won us a small dog. Ricki took a turn and with speed coupled with accuracy, won a huge teddy bear on her first throw. We carried them around for a while and then gave them to a pair rather forlorn looking girls of nine or ten. It made their night.

Then it was on to the Fun House. We laughed like a pair of hyenas as we posed in front of the trick mirrors. The distorted images were ridiculous yet all of a sudden Ricki became disturbed by the grotesqueness. She was near tears. "This is a ridiculous waste of time. Grotesque I hate it! Like laughing at the poor people in freak shows. So barbaric." I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. Despite the warm night, her skin suddenly felt cold, clammy. She shivered with emotion. "You don't think I'm silly, do you?"

"No. Not silly at all, just deeply sensitive." I was surprised to see a sensitive, empathic side in someone so strongly narcissistic as Ricki.

We walked into the darkened passage as strings suspended from the ceiling gave us the feeling we were brushing through spider webs. "Ohh, gross," giggled Ricki. We soon found ourselves on an elevated platform above the boardwalk. A blast of air blew Ricki's skirt above her shapely thighs. She turned her back to the boardwalk as she held the front of her skirt down while making no attempt to cover her shapely tush which was made more shapely still by the clinging nylon panties she wore. She seemed to gloat as men and boys caught a glimpse of her superb legs and bottom. Turning men's heads was a power trip for this flirtatious young girl. Ricki derived a sense of superiority from being seen as desirable by the very type of male she despised. She was the reincarnated Circe who would be happy to turn these metaphoric swine into actual ones. Was I destined to be transformed into a swine at her feet?

She grabbed my hand as she all but skipped through the rest of the fun house. Ricki's upbeat mood had been restored by this momentary sense of power brought on by the apparently innocent lifting of her skirt.

A ride on the roller coaster and we were ready to leave. It was a silly way to pass a Saturday night but we loved it. Sundaes at the drive-in where we had our hot dogs rounded out the night.

*****

The moon was nearer to full than half as it rose out of the river. The lawn and garden around Gwen's house were bathed in the soft moonlight. Ricki saw me look up at the lighted garret window. "Siobhan's room. She won't disturb us."

Ricki put her hands on either side of my face, hesitated briefly, and then moved her face toward mine. Somehow her skirt was at her hips as my hands pressed her firm bottom. The pink nylon of her skin tight panties felt both warm and cool under my palms. My finger tips rested on the semi-circular seam of the double nylon crotch (no cotton liner in those days). Ricki reached back, put her palm over mine as if suggesting I was going to far. That wasn't the case. She rested her hand over mine and pressed my finger between her cheeks, pressed against it against the indentation that led to that mysterious, tabooed source of pleasure. We moved far enough apart for Ricki to start unbuttoning her blouse. I started to speak but she put her finger over my lips, took my hand and led me back to the house.

I stared at the back of her thighs as she led me up the stairs toward her room. She paused then scampered up the last few stairs as I looked up at her in fascinated adoration. No words were spoken as she slowly raised her skirt. I kissed the back of her knees, her thighs, nuzzled the cleft of her cheeks. My cock was painfully hard as it strained to break free of the restraining clothing.

We were bare to the waist as we stood in the door of Ricki's room. She was clad only in her white bra and pink panties by the time she reached the bed and turned the covers down. "So lazy," teased my lover as she undid my trousers. "I have to do everything for you."

Her smile changed from bright and playful to that forlorn smile I had seen earlier. She pushed me to the edge of the bed, straddled my thighs, reached back and unhooked her bra. One nipple was in my mouth as my fingertips circled her other nipple. Ricki pressed by face against her lower abdomen. Turning her back to me she wiggled her hips as she pulled her panties to the bottom of her tush. An expression of intense fear covered her face as she turned to face me with her panties held to reveal only the top edge of her pubic hair. "Okay! So you want me. Have me if you can bring yourself to do it. Otherwise just hate me!" She started to cry, yanked her panties down to reveal a very erect cock!

I grabbed Ricki in my arms and kissed her as our cocks brushed together. We fell back onto the bed still locked in an intense embrace. Our tongues probed deeply as our hands slipped between each other's legs, held each other's balls. I wasn't too sure of what to do but I knew I wanted Ricki's cock in my mouth.

I knelt over her, kissed her nipples, tasted her navel as I held the base of her cock between my fingers. Precum began to bead on her cockhead. It was delicious but I wanted more. A quiver of ecstasy radiated from my cockhead to every part of my being as Ricki ran her tongue around the rim. I was to greedy, too desirous to taste her full load to follow suit. My mouth enveloped her cockhead, slid up and down over the shaft. My fingers massaged her balls. Ricki whimpered and squirmed as she pumped a generous stream of cum into my eager mouth. Ricki lay panting for a minute before she revived sufficiently to eat me to a screaming orgasm.

The breeze from outside was cool against my skin as I lay nude on the bed. Ricki reclined on her side, her head resting on her hand. I smiled up at her as her fingers fluttered over my my nipples, her lips sucking mine. My cock began twitching as it rose refreshed and ready to continue our exploration.

"Hate me yet?"

"Not yet. I love you." Even as I said the words, I wondered if it was love or lust that made want to be with this strange creature who was as selfish as she was charming.

"Then show me you love me. Fuck me!"

Ricki's hand was between my legs, her fingers flitting over the sensitive skin in back of my balls. She rolled on top of me as she twisted my balls until I yelped in real pain. Her tongue was in my mouth causing an unreal response in my groin. My cock was once again fully erect and already twitching under the ministrations of Ricki's talented and well practiced tongue. Her knees were on either side of my head, her tight balls dangling inches from my mouth. I raised my head and applied my tongue to the back of her balls. A long low moan seemed to come from deep within her.

"Please, fuck me, fuck me," she pleaded. "I need you in me when I come. Fuck me!" I pressed my face against Ricki's bottom cleft and plunged my tongue into her hole. "Oh, oh, that's so good. Too good, too good. Please," her voice sounded as if she were in pain. "Fuck me, fuck me."

Ricki rolled onto her back and pulled me on top of her with her legs around my waist. She took my cock in her hand and pressed the head against her butt hole as she pulled her knees to her chest.

"Slowly. Go in slowly."

It was unimaginably tight as her sphincter grasped my raging hardon. Soon I was buried in her hole. She smiled up at me and we kissed. Ricki moved her hips from side to side in a wild, circular motion. I took her cock in my hand, wrapping my palm and fingers over the head. I felt her quiver and throb under my touch even as we fucked. Ricki suddenly and with surprising strength arched her back as she squeezed my balls. I roared as I came as never before. An instant later Ricki's throbbing cock pumped her load onto our sweaty bellies.

"Stay here in my bed with me tonight. I'll feel desperately lonely to wake up and not find you here beside me." A wry smile crossed her pretty face giving her a hard look that I had never noticed before. "And if I wake up horny..."

"I'll stay here with you forever if you want me."

"No words, just actions." Our lips lingered together in a light kiss. A cold chill ran down my spine as Ricki turned off the bedside lamp. Her smug smile expressed triumph, conquest.

 

Ricki sat on the edge of the bed lighting her first cigarette of the day. I sat up and ran my finger tips down her spine stopping at the waist band of the yellow cotton panties she had donned after I had fallen asleep. "Really, Greg. Don't be such a greedy pest." She stood up and slipped on an ivory colored silk kimono. I went back to my room rethinking the events of the last couple of days.

Ricki was showing every sign of being as bitchy and as controlling as any real girl could be now that she had me enthralled with her flirtatious behavior, not to mention her unusual endowments. Ronnie had warned me. It wasn't that I was ready to give up my affair with Ricki but I knew I had to pull back for the moment. It wasn't that I felt weird or guilty or embarrassed about having passionate sex with a girl who had a cock. The odd part of it was that it was exciting, satisfying to the point where I didn't think I would ever want a real girl again! One thing was certain; I had to get out of that house.

*****

Breakfast was a leisurely affair prepared by Siobhan. Ricki suggested I accompany her to the church service which was to start at half past ten. I showered and dressed in tan chinos, blue oxford cloth shirt and navy blue linen blazer. The third pair of panties in the pack Ricki had given me was put to use.

Ricki as expected, had a totally different look for this mornings church service. A party dress, replete with lavish layers of petticoats, gave her the look of an innocent twelve year old. She stood at the top of the stairs, hiked her skirt to fluff out her petticoats. Needless to add that I was captivated by her antics as well as by her white, lace trimmed panties. White ankle socks, turned down, contrasted with her black patent Mary Janes.

"A penny for your thoughts," she smiled looking so different from the dominating conqueror she had so recently shown her self to be.

"Just wondering of you're an angel or an imp."

"An angel. You see, darling, if you ever care to talk about what's happening between us no one will ever believe anything but that you've taken advantage of me."

*****

Recalling what Ricki had said about a conservative element at Janus trying to impose certain values and behaviors, I was surprised by how few of the Janus student body and staff were at the church. It was a relief to see Ronnie among the few. I made it my business to greet her after the service. Ricki, as I expected moved right up to me and held my arm as I began to chat with Ronnie.

"What time did you say our appointment is?" I asked Ronnie by way of trying to set up a private conversation with her. She caught on quickly.

"Nine o'clock at my office. I'll expect you promptly."

Ricki spent the rest of the day alternating between making nice and acting the role of a sullen spoiled bitch. No one could have been that good an actress. It was her real self.

She stormed into my room as I sat reading. "Sorry for not knocking but I'm really pissed that you have a private meeting with that Ronnie person."

"Ricki, I don't know what's gotten into you..."

"Greg, you know I want you so much and Ronnie's so mean to me, says such bad things..."

Ricki sat on my lap, put her arms around my neck. She stopped badmouthing Ronnie and started nibbling my ear. Fool that I was, I started responding to her wiles. Despite the ease with which Ricki took control of me, I realized there had to be a reason other than jealousy that made her try to keep me from talking with Ronnie. I was determined not to give in to Ricki's latest attempt at seduction although sex with her was fabulous!

Ricki removed her little girl party dress even as I remained seated holding the book I had been reading when she burst in. Her tiny breasts were ever so alluring through the silky nylon of her slip with its sewn on layers of lacy petticoats. She turned her back to me, bent forward and flipped the petticoats over her back. I was transfixed by her cute little tush straining against the snowy whiteness of her panties. "Kiss me there! You know we both want it, we both need it." I hesitated only to have Ricki turn to me, take my hand and pull me to my feet. She unbuttoned my shirt, undid my trousers which fell around my ankles. There was a determination in her that I was powerless to resist. Ricki smiled at me for a split second before a bolt of erotic pain overwhelmed me as she drove her knee into my panty covered balls!

Ricki knelt next to me as I lay in a fetal position. The aftermath of Ricki's well aimed, well executed knee to my balls kept me still for longer than I cared to guess. As soon as I showed signs of recovery Ricki grasped my balls in her hand and slowly applied pressure. Her eyes were filled with tears, tears, not of physical pain nor of simple emotional hurt but of frustration and anger. "Damn you. Why did you make me care about you? It's making what we have to do so much more difficult. And of course, you have to complicate things by sucking up to Ronnie."

I reached up and pulled her head to my chest. She lay sniffling like a hurt child yet she had just physically overwhelmed me with a single kick to my crotch! I hadn't the foggiest idea of what she was meant when she talked about 'what we have to do.' I doubted I was part of the 'we,' but whatever it was that had to be done and whoever 'we' might be, I was certain that Ronnie was seen as a major obstacle, if not the nemesis of 'we.'.

I was certain to that I had something that Ricki and the rest of the 'we' wanted. It was a foregone conclusion that it had something to do with my knowledge of folk healing and of herbalism. The whole thing was pretty maddening especially since I was still thoroughly spellbound by having a beautiful lover who was equipped with a dick. Maybe my appointment with Ronnie would clarify things.

*****

It was about eight-thiry when I arrived at Ronnie's office. Her door was ajar so I rapped gently. "Well good morning," came a cheery greeting from behind me. I turned to see Ronnie. She was stunning in the morning light. Her dark hair was cut in a modified page boy giving her a chaste if not severe but fashionable appearance. She wore a powder blue shirtwaist dress, fitted to the waist and flaring gracefully over her hips with a sort of narrow sash belt.. The Peter Pan collar was set off by a thin ribbon tied in a bow at the neck. The wide cuffs of her sleeves were open and turned up so that her wrists were exposed. A smart but practical watch adorned her left wrist, a gold and enamel cuff bracelet on her right wrist. Bone high heel pumps set off her superb ankles highlighted by her practical suntan stockings.

"Can I offer you a cup of coffee?" she offered without breaking stride as she led me into her office. She motioned me to a chair and closed the door behind her. There was a vigilant quality to her as she scanned the room, the windows and the far door.

She seated herself, not behind the desk but on a small couch against the wall. "Please call me Ronnie. You needn't look for my degrees. I don't have any. I'm just a townie high school kid who made good by working with Jodi Matthews. I'm neither bragging about that nor being overly humble; just setting the record straight.

"Now that you have no illusions about my background, I can welcome you to Janus." Her handshake was firm, confident. Seated once against, she crossed her legs and leaned back.

"We have a unique purpose here at Janus. In addition to educating our students, we remake a certain type of poorly functioning boy into a very much more effective girl while allowing them the option to shift between roles as they need.

"You were recruited because, in addition to your excellent background and credentials, you've had some experience in girls' roles in prep school plays so that you can empathize with the needs of our unique students. Ricki isn't the only girl at Janus with her special endowment. Very many of our girls are so endowed; even some of the staff and faculty ladies have that something extra!

"We do what we do quite well. Our 'girls' are supported and helped through whatever degree of transition they choose to make in order meet their individual needs. We guide them through the discovery of their real selves and what they have to do to be comfortable with their inner essence.

"Gwen was, until about two years ago, that's when Ricki showed up, one of her key staffers. very much a mainstay of our approach. Now she's pushing the idea that herbal diets will make our girls more like real ones. We have no intent of forcing physical changes on them even if such a thing is possible..."

Ronnie was sitting erect on the couch as she spoke. She now crossed her legs by sliding on thigh over there opposite knee in a most disappointingly ladylike manner. Her elbow rested atop her knee as she cupped her chin in her hand. There was a softness, a flirtatiousness to her smile that belied her strictly business personal style.

"I know what you're referring to and I agree with the school's position. "Ronnie, I appreciate being here at Janus even if it turns out to be only for the summer. I'm not yet certain but I believe what the school offers to a certain type of child is heaven sent. There were times in my life when I would have thrived in such a setting. It may not last, though. A dangerous undercurrent is building up and Gwen is the instigator. I'm not having any part of that. There's something sinister about Ricki, too. They reinvent their personal history every single time they talk about themselves. And then there's Gwen's strange ideas about physical alteration. All in all, it's just too strange. I'd like to find out more so I can understand what's up with those two.

"I swear that if there's anything I can do to support Janus, I will."

"Thank you for saying so. We'll meet regularly from now on. Kind of selfish of me but I must be honest...I really find you very attractive." She shifted awkwardly as she spoke. "It's been so long since I felt that way about anyone. Even if nothing happens, I'll owe you forever for reviving that part of my soul....Forgive me, please. I'm saying too much, putting pressure on you, embarrassing you."

"Ronnie, stop. I'm flattered by what you're saying. There's no way any reasonable man with normal drives couldn't be attracted by you..."

"Don't be so sure about that. Lots of men with 'normal drives,' contrary to what you say, would be very turned off if they really knew what I'm all about."

I was quite sure she meant that many men would be threatened by having an independent woman in a position of power as a lover. There was always the chance that Ronnie, despite her femininity, preferred that her intimate relationships be with other women.

Ronnie opened the door and extended her hand. "Lunch conference tomorrow?"

"Great," I agreed.

"Meet me here at one."

There was something left unsaid, something with which Ronnie wanted my help. I couldn't help but think she was enlisting me as some sort of ally; an ally against what?

*****

Ricki waved to me as she walked along the campus. She didn't break her stride as she chatted with another student. I got the message. It was time to teach me to not take her foregranted, to teach me that I wasn't as important to her as I might think. Okay with me. Still, she looked great. She wore a knee length a-line skirt, the blue gray of the Janus summer uniform. A white short sleeve blouse gave her a feminine charm that belied that something extra she so adeptly concealed in her panties. White knee socks and penny loafers added to her preppie appearance. Her companion was taller, more slender yet graceful; not in the least gawky. She wore a jumper over a scoop neck tee. Her hair was parted in the middle and brushed back in a loose pony tail. The jumper was belted lightly at her very tiny waist. Small breasts were supported by a bra that showed through her tee. Despite her feminine appearance and attractiveness, or because of it, I wondered if she were a real girl or one of those girls who were, in every sense, a product of Janus. I looked at them vanish around a corner and then it struck me.

I started thinking about Ronnie. "Damn. Was Ronnie trying to tell me that she wasn't a real girl? No way! She's just so perfectly female with none of the cutesy pooh exaggerations...But wait! Ricki is so convincing as any type of girl she chooses to be. So why can't Ronnie be a...Hang on. Get hold of yourself," I reasoned. "You've been super turned on by Ricki and her prick and now that you find a real girl attractive you're just hoping Ronnie's got a prick too. Ronnie's a real female so rein in your imagination. Remember that she's not only a real female but she's a lady as well."

*****

Gwen Laurent arrived back at Janus late that afternoon. Siobhan had left a cold supper for us. Ricki joined us but was very subdued. Gwen outlined the long term project she had been working on since Ricki and Siobhan had been reunited with her as she put it. Gwen was engaged in developing regimens by which natural herbal supplements could be used to enhance female characteristics and to suppress male secondary characteristics such as body hair, beard growth, and thick limbs. Now I knew why she had researched my non-academic credentials and why she was so interested in my family tradition of folk healing. Above all I was to share nothing with any other member of the administration. "Greg, you see we can do even better by some of the pupils than Janus ever could hope to. We can produce the most flawless boy/girls ever."

"Is there any proof that this will work? I know there are herbals which can mildly enhance some traits and suppress others...But what you're talking about is beyond comprehension."

"Greg, darling. You've already seen what Ricki is all about. Oh, I know you're going to say she's not impressive, not unique, that there are many such here at Janus. You think she's just like a skinny, unmuscular boy when she's nude. Well, I have to admit you're correct. But consider Siobhan!"

She called for Siobhan who apparently had been waiting for this moment. The willowy redhead wore a green maid's uniform and white opaque stockings with sensible shoes such as a nurse or a waitress might wear. The top button of the uniform was undone. Siobhan's cleavage showed to advantage.

"Convince Dr. Davies," ordered Gwen.

Siobhan smiled as she unbuttoned the front of her uniform and stepped out of it. Her narrow, soft shoulders framed a prominent collar bone. A white nylon chemise barely reached the top of her white opaque stockings. A well constructed, low cut bra showed her magnificent breasts to advantage. She slid the straps of her chemise from her shoulders and let it fall. Her tiny waist emphasized her round little tummy with its deep navel just above the waist band of her snow white panties which were just sheer enough to let the outline of her garter belt frame her pubic hair. Her beauty was more than awesome.

Siobhan looked at Gwen and smiled as Gwen nodded. Siobhan lowered her panties and pulled her cock from between her curvaceous thighs. Her tight scrotum held her balls close against her body. "I'm impressed," I said, understating my reaction.

'Functional, too," commented Gwen as she teased Siobhan's cock to full erection.

"No, don't waste it," whispered Ricki as she knelt before Siobhan, taking the beautiful maid's cockhead into her mouth as a prelude to deep throating her. Siobhan was on writhing on the floor as Ricki brought her to a long, loud climax. Cum dripped from the corners of Ricki's mouth as she caught the overflow with her tongue.

My own cock was stirring as the demonstration ended. Gwen placed her hand on my thigh to get my attention. "You're wondering if this beautiful being is the product of an herbal regimen why we need to develop another one. You see the woman who made, converted Siobhan to what she is was accidentally killed by a mob who just wanted to frighten her off. They burned her house not knowing she was asleep inside. I don't think they would have cared even if they had known. Her notes and most of her herbal preparations were destroyed. Siobhan was away recruiting Ricki. Fortunately, she had a fair amount of what she needed to preserve, shall we say, her newly acquired endowments. She salvaged what she could from the ruins. But time is running out and there's no going back from the regimen. We need to replenish the supply before we lose Siobhan's beauty. You won't deny us your knowledge.

"Greg, together you and I can save Siobhan and then create a school which will be greater than Janus could ever dream of being. Don't you realize what potential this has?"

"Of course I can't deny you whatever I know or can find out to save Siobhan's beauty. Her very being is at stake. I've got to tell you that I'm still not convinced she's the product of some sort of herbal regimen.

"Even if what you claim is true, I'm not so sure this regimen should be used as a broadly applied technique used to physically alter these boys who choose to live as girls. You yourself say there's no going back. And we don't know the long term effects...There have to be long term effects, physical and psychological. These boys may want to create the illusion they're girls but the point is that they don't fundamentally change their bodies nor do they want to. They capitalize on the gift of androgyny. This is a greater gift than you're willing to acknowledge. No, don't deny it. If you valued this wondrous blessing then you wouldn't have accepted Siobhan's physical alteration. To many it would be a betrayal of what was given them by nature to try to artificially enhance their gifts rather than simply use them. It would be, to use the cliché, gilding the lily."

"Are you saying you're not impressed by Siobhan?"

"Of course I'm impressed. But we're talking of separate entities. There's a very seductive magic in seeing a slender youth transform into a beautiful young woman with adequate curves that exist only because we believe they should. Siobhan doesn't fall into that category."

"Then you won't help us."

"I didn't say that. What you propose isn't easy. Few have any of the pieces of the body of knowledge to be assembled if what you propose to do will come to pass. It's not something I want to impose on the unwitting yet I know it's an esoteric art that should be saved if we possibly can. It will take time but I'll do all I can.

"You must agree not to question my contacts or how I find what I can. Is that clear?"

Gwen nodded solemly. "You're asking to control the project. I agree."

I realized Ricki was holding my hand. I looked down at her as she sat, legs curled under her, at my side. "Thank you'" she said with a calm sincerity that was so out of keeping with everything I knew about her that I wondered at what I heard.

It struck me that Gwen was working toward supplanting Janus's unique program with one of her own. Her program would be based on physically enhancing the androgynous teens at The Academy. I could accept the idea of enhancing femme traits, of suppressing or retarding the development of extreme male characteristics in these lovely young androgynes. Anything beyond that was anathema, even if it were possible.

Ronnie was aware of this plan and this was where she needed an ally. And I was willing.

 

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

Written in French, once the preferred language of the Imperial Russian Court and of the St. Petersburg intelligentsia.

 

My Dear Motria:

It has been too long since we exchanged thoughts and longer still since we've met. Fate has brought me to a place where boys who are uncomfortable with their role can learn to live as girls; cultured well educated young ladies no less. I can be happy here at the Janus Academy for the nonce. How happy we both would be if we could share this experience.

There is a woman, yes, a real woman, here who hired me to teach here. She tells me she is well versed in the old ways of England, lore which she learned growing up in Wales. She claims her servant has been physically altered by use of herbs to where she has the attributes of a woman's body, an exceptionally desirable woman at that, while retaining her male hardware in excellent working order. This flies against the blessing of androgyny. The secret of the herbals she needs died with her transformer. She will soon wither. I am not in favor of such alteration but I promised to help save her. It would be a sin to allow such beauty to wither because of earlier bad judgment. And yet I'm not convinced her story is not what she claims it is. Some verification is needed.

There is also a younger but unaltered boy/girl who has the uncanny gift of appearing many different ages. She has seduced me but I fear there is something unwholesome about her.

I'm told Vassily Grigorovitch lives as a holy fool somewhere on the edge of the expatriate community near Lakehurst in New Jersey. No doubt he knows his father's secrets. Gregor Rifomovich enhanced many boys to where they performed as ballerinas before audiences who never realized they were anything but lovely women. Yet he didn't give them the actual appearance, the physical attributes of real women as was done with this 'woman.' As beautiful as she may appear, she is not her own being but simply the product of a clever alchemy or perhaps something else entirely.

A slender boy who has been given the hidden blessing of androgyny is a marvel to behold as he transforms himself into the complete girl, the girl with a cock. In so doing, the youth thus gifted improves upon nature. Therein lies the wonder, the enchantment, the force, the power. It is elegance, grace, and polish. This, perhaps more than any other type of beauty, is deserving of adoration, of homage.

Perhaps you can contact Vassily and we, you and I, can visit him. After so long out of touch with you, I would very much like to have a reason to see you again.

I look forward to your positive reply as well as to an update on how you are faring.

Your humble and still adoring servant,

Grisha

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

 

"I take it there's been no reply to that letter you sent to your compatriot several weeks ago."

"No, Gwen. Why wouldn't I tell you if there had been?"

"Well, you've been terribly aloof these last two weeks. You spend more and more time with that Ronnie person. That one carries on like she owns this school and everyone in it. Horny little bitch. Don't tell me she's finally found a new lover in you. Is that why you're so preoccupied."

"I'm sorry if I seem that way. I've been keeping my promise to you. It would have been easier if you were in calmer mood but you're going to hear what I've learned even though it's not likely to improve your frame of mind.

"I'm more certain than ever that what Siobhan has been taking is nothing more than a North American herb called black cohosh. The woodland Indians used it to ease menstrual symptoms and to alleviate the symptoms of menopause. It's likely she's a pseudo-hermaphrodite who sold you a bill of goods to secure a place for herself in your entourage."

"Just a moment. Hermaphrodites don't really exist outside of myth..."

"Gwen, they do exist and they're not that rare although Siobhan is probably an extreme example....Extreme but not unique. Take my word on that, at least for now."

"As I was saying, she's almost certainly a pseudo-hermaphrodite. Her ambiguous body is a function of genetics. No one made her into what she is; she was born that way."

Gwen didn't respond in words but her response was eloquent. Her nostrils twitched as she held her breath. Gwen stared at the folders on her desk, moved her hand toward them as if to brush the folders off her desk and into the wastepaper basket. "Then it's all a farce.

"But why would Siobhan want to come all the way to the States to be with Ricki and me if she was lying about the herbal regimen that she claimed to need?"

"Well for one thing, I suspect she's a Wiccan herbalist. That's not as rare in England as it is here. She stands to gain financially if he she uses you to establish her reputation as the unique product of a process that exists only as a fiction fobbed off by her. Think of the money she could earn deceiving unsuspecting trannies looking to enhance their beauty."

"That bitch is on her way back to England. The school I was dreaming of will never come about. I feel like a total fool. I'll get rid of Siobhan before the week is over."

"Not yet. Allow some more time for a response to my letter.

"What about Ricki?"

"Ricki's really her dupe. She really is my late sister's child."

Greg felt better

*****

Greg's mind bounced between Ronnie and all the very unusual but oh so sexy people he had come to know since his arrival at Janus a month ago and back to Motria whom he knew so intimately in another time and in another place.

"Have some place in mind for a leisurely lunch? Since you're new around here, why don't you let me choose?"

"Beg pardon. Sorry, I didn't really process what you were saying. Mind's elsewhere."

"Greg, I'm taking you for a really special lunch. I never really thanked you for getting Gwen back to reality, at least back to the Janus brand of reality."

"Glad to be of service. I really don't know why you're so invested in keeping Gwen here. She's no friend to you, refuses to acknowledge how important you are to the running of this place."

"Gwen brought Jodi Matthews to Janus. Without Jodi I would never have amounted to anything. I would have remained a half illiterate townie totally miserable with my lot in life. I guess you can say Gwen brought us together even if she didn't intend to. Could you see me pumping gas forever?"

A bolt of realization hit Greg. Girls didn't pump gas in the early fifties. Was his earlier take on Ronnie the right one? Was she a girl with a dick or was it Greg's wishful thinking that was leading him to this bizarre conclusion?

"Ronnie, please let me take a raincheck on lunch. I have some papers to go over and I'm supposed to have office hours for my tutorial students this afternoon."

Ronnie forced a smile. "Sure. Sorry I forgot the schedule. Ronnie the administrative automaton should have known that."

Greg left Ronnie who pivoted her chair to face the window, took a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed the tears from her cheeks. She held Jodi Matthew's picture in her hand and spoke to it softly. "Jodi, what did you ever see in me? And why did you have to die too soon? And for crying out loud, why can't anyone else see whatever it was that attracted you to this townie loser?"

*****

He organized the papers on his desk carefully setting the blue handwritten envelope to one side. No one was due to see him for the better part of an hour. He eased the letter opener blade into the envelope, removed the letter, leaned back in his chair and began to read.

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

Darling Grisha:

I was surprised and delighted to receive your letter although it took some time for it to catch up to me. As you can see, I'm in New York City now. They assure me that Brooklyn really is a part of New York. I'm living in a neighborhood called Brooklyn Heights. It's quite old, well maintained and full of very artistic people.

I teach dance and study. There is little energy left for any personal inolvements. You cured me of such frivolity when we parted.

Vasily Gregorivich lives not the life of a holy fool but that of a farmer. He grows many kinds of herbs that he offers for sale to the health conscious and to those who wish to alter fate. He tells me what you talk of is impossible. No herb or combination of herbs can create the 'girl' you described. There are only herbs which can suppress some male traits if taken early enough and there are others which can enhance innate female traits. You know of these.

There is a dance company here in New York City that might have a place for someone such as I. Perhaps they will cease stooping to farce and will allow me to dance in the great tradition of classical ballet.

My intent was simply to answer your letter as tersely as possible, to tell you what I found out from Vasily Grigorivich. But no, I cannot. In my memory I taste your kisses, your body, your soul. Still, I feel you inside me.

I regret if this hurts you but it was necessary for me to say this to you. Now we'll say no more of the past. I cannot take you from the life you are making for yourself and I cannot ever, ever fit into your new world.

That said, I ask you to please, please let us get together for a drink, dinner, a chat. It will go no further. The memory of what we had, what we were is too precious to risk by trying to rekindle the past. It will only taste stale.

Dos Vedanya,

Motria

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

It was written in English in a distinctively European handwriting style . The phrase 'Dos Vedanya,' Russian for 'farewell,' was written in the Cyrillic (Russian) alphabet. In his fondness for Motria and because of what they once were to each other, he took it as a signal not to break off communication now that they had gotten in touch.

He smiled at the affirmation of his guess about the nature of Siobhan.

Greg studied the letter, swiveled to face the window and stared out the window even as he looked back across time. "Damn," he thought. He took a sheet of typing paper from his desk, folded it across the middle, uncapped his pen and began to once again write to Motria.

 

...You could have been a great ballerina were things different. I believe you still can be although the fame you attain would be tinged with notoriety. Tonight and every night henceforth I will drink to you until I can drink with you. To drink with you must satisfy me until you relent and we shall once more drink of each other's bodies and souls.

Your devoted and ever adoring,

Grisha

 

"Bah," he said aloud, tore up the letter and tossed the pieces into the trash. "Stephanie, come on in," he cheerfully called to the girl who waited patiently outside his office door.

*****

(continued)

   

  

  

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