The Venus Touch 14

Printer-friendly version
The Venus Touch XIV
by Melanie T

Edited by Kristine Roland

Another ally is gained and the small family finds a place.

 
This text is (c) 2009 by Melanie. All rights reserved.
 
 
Fifty-five

When a touch awoke me, I was half expecting it to be Alyssa, trying to tell me that she needed food or attention, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it was Stacy who was softly stroking my back.

I turned around to face her and looked into her eyes. She reached across me and pulled me in for a kiss. Her tongue probed my lips and I opened them slightly, allowing her to enter my mouth with her tongue. When she did, I shook off some of the passivity of my slumber and returned the embrace, pulling her in closer and returned the kiss.

I felt the stirrings of passion, long missed, as my hands started moving up and down Stacy's back while we continued to kiss.

When we broke the kiss, still holding on to each other, I saw Alyssa stirring, as if awakened by our movements. Stacy looked at me and said, “That has been missing from my life for far too long.”

I looked at her and said, “I'm afraid. I'm lost in here,” motioning at my new body. I didn't know where that had come from, it's not like I used to be able to say something like that easily. I had found, over the past months, that my emotions were different from before. Ever since I had my first period, I had become more emotional, crying more easily. I had taken my mind off it, and off my emotions, by concentrating on things outside of myself, but I felt I had to face my changes now. And I was afraid of that, very much afraid.

For the moment, Alyssa took up our attention and I was able to leave off thinking about these emotional things, concentrating on helping Stacy to get some semblance of breakfast ready.

I found a text from Pam on my phone, it was very short and cryptic. “Papers OK. $2500” is what it read. I took out an envelope from it's hiding place, counted out $2500 from it and put the envelope away again. I folded the money to push it into my jeans pocket, but I found the pockets on my jeans were too small. What use are pockets you can't put anything into? It seemed feminine clothing meant having lots of make believe pockets, flaps and zippers. My jacket's pockets were sewn shut under their flaps, too.

I finally got out my handbag and placed the $2500 in the zippered compartment and closed the flap over it.

I gave Pam a ring and we agreed to meet for lunch at the same place. I indicated that I agreed with the text she sent and she promised to get things started right away.

We spent the morning looking at more apartment listings. While we could possibly afford a nice place in an upscale neighborhood, I didn't want to attract the sort of attention that someone moving into such a place would undoubtedly get. We were looking for a place at the lower or mid range, possibly in West Hollywood, where two women with a child would not be seen as unusual it all. “Even if they kissed,” I thought with a smile and a tingle that was quite pleasant to enjoy.

We found a few places we bookmarked, then I had to leave for my lunch meeting with Pam.

I drove to the bistro and found a seat at the same table we met at last time. Pam walked in a few minutes later and we ordered a pair of lattes. I reached into my handbag and took out the money, which I had placed in an envelope I had picked up on the way. Handing the envelope to Pam, I gave her a questioning look, to which she responded with “Tomorrow, at lunch.”

I smiled and thanked her for her help and we sipped our coffees.

“Did you phone your uncle yet?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Pam said, "I was planning to do that tonight."

“Great. Let me know how it turns out.” I said.

Then Pam said that she had to go back to work and we said our goodbyes. I got back into the car and returned to the motel.

Fifty-six

Stacy had gotten it into her head to teach me some more make up. I wasn't really happy with that, because with this morning's thoughts, it only served to make me realize that I still had an elephant in the room that I had been tiptoeing around.

Yes, I still was a woman, and I was going to be one for an indefinite period of time, likely forever. Memories of happy times as a boy and man flashed through my mind as I contemplated the fact that that man had been eradicated from the world. To all others, Ron was dead.

My eyes wouldn't stay dry, which made my attempts at using eyeliner and mascara fail miserably. Finally Stacy realized that it wasn't my ineptness alone, but that my eyes kept tearing up, and stopped her lessons.

We laid down on the bed, since the room lacked a sofa, and I snuggled up to her, putting my arm around her shoulders.

Fortunately, Alyssa was occupying herself with a pad and some crayons, which we had bought for her in the last shopping spree, giving us a moment to talk without distraction.

“Why are you crying?” Stacy asked me, while taking my free hand.

“I'm crying for the boy I was,” I said.

Stacy gave me a sympathetic look and squeezed my hand softly. “I would like to say I understand,” she said, “but I can't. I'm trying so hard to help you. Please talk to me.”

“This morning, I realized that I have been avoiding dealing with my change. I have been quite happy to not think about it anymore than I had to, to get dressed or use the bathroom.

“The kiss made me realize there is more to life than the practical things; that is something I had pretty much ignored all this time. And now, make up lessons meant having to deal with an aspect of the new me that I would just as soon not deal with.

“One that I would just as soon not have to deal with.”

Stacy looked at me and said, “There is one thing you have, that you couldn't have had before.” She smiled and said, “Me.” and pulled me into a kiss.

I decided to forget my concerns about Alyssa seeing us, because that was fast becoming inevitable anyway. I returned the kiss with passion, feeling that pleasant tingle start up again.

We kissed for a while, then I hugged Stacy tight and my floodgates opened, pouring out all my fear and despair.

I felt like I cried for hours, with Stacy murmuring soft words of solace, before I pulled myself together again and dried my eyes. The black eyeliner stains on the tissue just brought it home to me once again, and I could not keep myself from resuming my crying.

Finally, I had cried myself out and cleaned up a little bit. Stacy got up from the bed to tend to Alyssa, while I, exhausted by my crying, fell into a light slumber.

Fifty-seven

The ringing of my phone yanked me out of the confusing, illogical and incoherent dreams I was dreaming. Still sleepy, I answered it.

It was Pam, telling me that she had called her uncle. Her uncle was a bit of a crusader, she said, someone who could be depended on to take the underdog's side each and every time.

She had told him about the mental condition we would expect the congressman to be in without letting on what it was about, just asking if he would be interested in helping a severely traumatized, disoriented individual who was being mistreated by the authorities.

Of course, with it having been presented like that, he had little choice, and staying true to form, had pretty much agreed to help without having any more specifics.

She had called to let me know that it would be best if I were on hand when he was told all of the details, and gave me the address to come to.

I got out of bed, which also ended nap time for Alyssa and Stacy, the latter of which had curled up next to me.

I got to the bathroom first and washed my face, putting on the lipstick as I always do. I then crossed the room to the table and, using the little mirror there, tried to put what Stacy had tried to teach me in the afternoon to good use. I actually managed a pretty good line with the liner; well, ok, an acceptable one. I silently had to agree, that it did really make me look a lot prettier.

I got dressed in jeans and a sweater, since the evening air had cooled down quite a bit, and Stacy, who was also ready by now, carried Alyssa down the steps to the car. I strapped her in and we got underway to the address Pam had given me.

On arrival, I unclipped Alyssa's seat belts and took her by the hand. Locking the car with the remote, we turned and walked up to the front porch of a large, detached house. The house emphatically said “Well off” about its owner, it was just the sort of house one would expect a doctor to live in.

Before we could ring the doorbell the door opened and we saw Pam with an older man with graying temples, but still a full head hair. His craggy face broke into a smile as he held out his hand to us. We shook hands and he motioned us inside and through the hallway into a well appointed living room. We took seats on the sofa he indicated and he let himself sink into an armchair that was unmistakably his.

Pam made the introductions, “Veronica, Stacy, this is my uncle, Jack. Jack, these two are Veronica and Stacy, with Veronica's daughter Alyssa.”

“A pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Introductions made, he said, “So, my niece tells me you're championing a cause.”

“Well, in a way we are,” I said, “but a very unusual one.”

Pam said, “To cut to the chase, Veronica here,” she motioned to me, “was not born a woman.”

“So it's about gender issues? I don't normally do those, but I'll try to help.” Jack said.

“Partly, yes,” I said, “but maybe not in the way you think.”

Stacy picked it up, saying “See, Uncle Jack, Veronica didn't really ask for it. It was involuntary, and it's a complete transformation, down to the genetic code.”

“That is not something I have ever heard of before,” said Jack, “it sounds like science fiction.”

“Worse, it was magic,” said Stacy.

Jack looked at her, somewhat taken aback. “Magic...” he said, “are you sure you don't need my services in some other way?” He did have a slight twinkle in his eye, but also a worried look as well.

“No, Uncle, magic is real. It's all too real,” Stacy said and went on to explain how I got transformed and what had gone wrong with the spells. Finally, she wrapped it up, telling him why. “Veronica wasn't affected in the same way as the others because her ancestors are themselves magical. The magic runs in the female side of the family only, so she wasn't magical as a male. Turning her into a woman also activated the latent magic and made her a sorceress.

“Because of that, she became immune to the bad part of the spell and didn't turn into what the person we want to save turned into. Which leads us to the last revelation of the evening. The person in question.

“Remember hearing about the girl who claimed to be a transformed congressman? Well, it's true. She is him, and it's being hushed up. She'll wind up in some institution, or worse, unless we act.”

“Hmm,” Jack said, “that does sound serious. But you have to excuse me for being a bit skeptical about magic. It's not every day you have a sorceress sitting on your sofa. So, can you prove any of this?”

Jack pulled out a cigar, commenting, “Excuse my bad habit.”

He sat back and rummaged in his pocket for a lighter.

I used the opportunity to conjure a small flame right by the tip of the cigar, which instantly caught fire and. Jack gave a startled look, then puffed on the cigar to get it going and I released the magic, causing the flame to go out.

“Hmm,” Jack said, again. “Now that was quite impressive. Especially since those are my cigars and I know you couldn't have prepared one. But will a bit of fire help with the problem you have come to me for?”

“No,” I said, “but I can do a bit more than fire.” To be on the safe side, I set a ward around us, which appeared as a greenish glow closing off all openings.

Jack gave an expectant look, but said nothing.

I used a vision spell I had read up on and prepared to project the vision of the congressman turned girl in her cell. Then I moved the focus outside to the two female guards in front of the cell, then out of the building and around the compound.

“This is her. We are seeing her as she is now, I am using what is called a vision spell to see things far away,” I said.

“Now if you could only find a way to get her out of there,” he said, “we could possibly do something.”

“Does that mean you're in?” asked Pam.

“I suppose I am. I'm really getting too old for adventures, but I'd be a fool to let this one pass me by,” Jack said.

Stacy and I looked at each other with a happy smile, then I said, “I think I will be able to get her out.”

I stood up and then used a trick I had secretly practiced. I levitated myself, flying up under the ceiling. I said, “I think I can get over the wall and into the compound. If I can somehow get close enough to touch her, I can port out of there, to a target set up for our return.”

I floated back down and took my seat again.

“That might be workable,” said Jack, “indeed, it might be.”

Fifty-eight

When we left, we had Jack's assurance that he would help us in any way he could. Our small group had grown to four people already. And a toddler, of course.

The next day, I briefly met Pam for lunch at the usual place and received a manila envelope. Back at the motel, we emptied it onto the bed and found that is contained birth certificates, driver's licenses and social security cards for both of us. It also contained a birth certificate for Alyssa.

With that out of the way, finding a place had to be the order of the day.

I got out the list of apartments we had found and called up each of them. Some had already been rented, others told us, in no uncertain terms, that they would rent to either a single person or a couple. Finally, I was able to get a viewing for a two bedroom apartment in West Hollywood. Situated between Sunset Boulevard and Santa Monica Boulevard, at the western end of West Hollywood, the place didn't seem, to be too bad.

We got into the car and drove to Havenhurst Drive. The building, Havenhurst Lanai, was a 1970s apartment block. A hollow square of apartments surrounded an empty, cracked pool in the dilapidated courtyard.

We met the agent out front and he showed us into the upper floor front apartment. The place didn't look too well maintained, but was not dirty or unhealthy. When I asked about rent and availability, I was informed that I could have it immediately, first and last month's rent would get us in. I counted out the rent money and the agent took down data from our ID. The contract was signed and we got the keys. The agent then left us to look over the apartment. A small, old but serviceable kitchen, a larger master bedroom, living room and a smaller guest or child's bedroom made up the apartment. The rooms were connected by a small hallway with a door leading on the outside walkway going around the building.

The master bedroom featured a largish built-in closet and the small bedroom also had a correspondingly smaller one. The living room was large enough to hold some book shelves, but we would not be able to put in much more in the line of furniture to have space for all the books.

We talked about it and agreed to look over the books and leave those that we didn't need, or couldn't use yet, in boxes stacked against the wall in the bedroom. This would give us enough space to use the living room for more than just a library.

There was some furniture in the apartment already. The master bedroom had a queen sized bed, while the smaller one had a double. There were nightstands, a vanity and the living room had a sofa and a coffee table. There was a small dining table in a corner of the living room, which we moved to the kitchen area to make room for the shelves we were going to get. That left enough space for one person to prepare food, and room for our small family to eat.

I gave Stacy my car keys and she left to get the truck with the books and our belongings. Meanwhile, I got out a box of chalk I had picked up for this purpose and began writing runes onto the walls and the window and door frames.

Every set of runes, once completed, flared up with a greenish tinge and became invisible when its word of power was spoken. This way, I went all around the outer walls, floor and ceiling of the apartment, warding it against break-in, fire, water and anything else that might befall.

Next, I went around again, drawing different symbols. These would contain any magic used inside the place to its walls, so no one who cast a detection magic spell would be able to see it. I didn't intend to have our place stand out like a beacon to those who would harm us.

Finally, the familiar green haze covered all openings. I had tested this with Stacy and found, to my surprise, that the wards were invisible to normal people. My precaution of turning off the wards at the motel was totally unnecessary, because people could not have seen them anyway. “Well,” I thought, “better safe than sorry.”

I finished warding the apartment and, sat down on the sofa. Alyssa was still going around the rooms, opening and closing doors, cabinets and drawers. Suddenly, I heard noise from the kitchen and jumped up to see Alyssa emptying the cutlery drawer on the floor. I quickly picked her up, chiding, “Alyssa, that is not a toy. Those things are sharp and you can get hurt. Now go and play elsewhere.” I sat her down and gave her a playful swat on the backside and she toddled off, no doubt looking for more mischief to get into.

I picked up all the cutlery and put it back into the drawer, then thought about it again and dumped it all into the sink and put the empty drawer back into the cabinet. We'd have to wash everything here first, anyway. I idly wondered if there was a dish washing spell.

Stacy returned with the truck and came up to knock on the door. I opened it and let her in, then gave her the spare set of keys. They were now spelled to turn off the wards on the door, since Stacy wasn't able to do that the magical way.

She had brought some of our personal items as well, and also brought the blankets and sheets we had used to make a bed for Alyssa. She made up Alyssa's bed and we laid her down for a nap. Soon, she was out like a light after the excitement of the afternoon. Stacy and I made a few trips to the truck, bringing some cases of books in.

We would both have preferred to have the other stuff up here first, but the books were loaded last and that means they had to come off the truck first. When we were exhausted, we sat down on the couch and cuddled for a while. It felt good to have someone in my life again; it filled a deep need I had suppressed for far too long. Stacy seemed to also felt this need, and we soon started kissing passionately. With Alyssa in her bedroom, napping, we couldn't take it very far, but I felt really good for the first time in a long while.

We had accomplished so much in such a short time. After fate had cruelly slapped me down, I had not only managed to recover, but I had found a cause to fight for, and maybe even love? I dared to entertain that thought for a moment, leaving my troubles behind and riding the wave of emotions.

All too soon it was over and we had to tend to Alyssa's needs. That meant going out for fast food, since we could not take the truck back to the motel just yet.

We returned to the apartment and settled down to the tedious, mindless task of carrying boxes from the truck to the apartment. Each time we passed each other, we smiled a secret smile, which made that task more bearable.

We took a short break to put Alyssa to bed, and then we continued unloading the truck deep into the night. It took 8 hours of hard work, but finally the entire contents of the truck were stacked willy-nilly throughout the apartment.

We pulled some blankets from one of the boxes from Stacy's apartment and made up a makeshift bed. We both fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the mattress.

End of part fourteen

up
111 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

I love this story...

Andrea Lena's picture

...the continuing intrigue regarding both the mystery of who and how they are transforming these men; many apparently in key places, perhaps. But my favorite aspect of this tale is Ronnie's struggle to "give up" her self; feeling lost inside herself as each little change has huge implications of her ultimate surrender, but she hasn't stopped being Ron inside. “I'm crying for the boy I was...” And her budding relationship with Stacy is a nice aspect to this whole transition, with her being more than just a friend. You keep me in suspense wondering what comes next, but I'm always confident it will be really good! Love you!


She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

I'm loving this! Keep up the

I'm loving this!

Keep up the good work!

I'm looking forward to seeing Ronnie break the Congressman out, I hope they can help her, she'd be a good ally if Ronnie can somehow remove or alleviate part of the curse...

A little underestimated

I feel this series is a little underestimated, or so it seems up till now. Only 2 comments? That can't be right. Or maybe it's just that well written, it barely elicits comment because it's just SO right.

Hmm. Well, if I may say just a little thing? But just a little more could be written in developing the play between Alyssa and Veronica, imo. I mean, we're supposedly talking about mother and child.
For the moment Alyssa seems hardly more then a prop, although well granted, she is still only 3 yrs old. But still, a little more interaction would bring more depth in the storyline, is what I think.

Just as what you're beginning to do between Stacy and Veronica, they seem to evolve into something more emotional commitment and byplay. It's nice.

For the rest. Hell of a story, thanks Melanie.

Jo-Anne

Alyssa....

... has been made Veronica's child by the magic. But actually, Veronica is nowhere near ready to fill these shoes, or even those of a woman. As it stands now, Stacy is the one who does the bulk of the caring for Alyssa, while Veronica is off doing other things.
This is true to form, as Stacy is a born woman raised to the expectation of motherhood, while Veronica is a new woman growing slowly into the role.
So, there is not a real relationship between Veronica and Alyssa yet. Alyssa is a responsibility and sometimes a nuisance, but anything more needs to develop.
Veronica is not there yet.

Melanie

Um yes! I understand..

...Melanie. But Alyssa is a three yr old girl, who is however very sweet and cooperative, also in that age where they're really beginning to learn, communicating, exploring, trying. At that age they really start to question "Why this, why that?" and "Mama ... " Fill in the dots with just about anything.

Not that you should write oodles of prose about what's happening and going on between the two, but a little here and there, on the sly, would gain the story a little more dimension, I'm just saying.

And please, I understand completely if you don't feel like writing thus, but also don't play it by 'born woman' because every one has to learn these things. Born women and male caregivers alike, it surely isn't like when the child is born, suddenly all falls into place. Mother's love is not all encompassing and/or omnipresent from birth. Sure most take to it like ducks to water, but surely not all.

But like you said: anything more needs to develop. True, very true. But I can't help but titteringly anticipate a little about that, and nudge you a little. Please don't feel offended.

Jo-Anne

I understand ...

... what you're saying.

Mentioning being born a woman doesn't mean that that is required to nurture a child. I was more thinking of the consequential feminine socialization, playing house, playing with dolls, all those things that are steps to prepare the girl for her role as a mother later in life.

Veronica never had that. As a female, her emotional age is not much more than Alyssa's!

Melanie

Great story telling!

I like how this is going where our heroine is beginning to fight back. She neds a safe area to expand her craft. it has a good balance of actiona and contemplation.

Thanks for sharing your talent with us.

Hugs,
Trish-Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~

Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~

the Havenhurst Lanai

laika's picture

What is it with L.A. apartment complexes and Pacific island cultures? Used to wonder about that growing up, "tiki apartments" me and my friends use to call them (always had tikis in the planterboxes at the entries & by the abandoned & filled in swimming pool...), and all I could figure was that it had something to do with the nostalgia of servicemen returning from the war in the Pacific to settle down in Southern Cal. Maybe anywhere else that could support palm trees had a little of this in the 50's, 60's & 70's, but L.A. seemed especially hard hit by the fake-tropical-paradise bug. Things like bowling alleys with big plaster volcanos, and even a whole city there that named itself Hawaiian Gardens. Weird...

Anyway, I'm still really loving this story & how it's unfolding!
~~~aloha, Laika

That building ....

... actually existed. I used to live there. Of course, when I lived there it was all shiny and new.

Now it's 30 years down the line and it doesn't look quite as glamorous anymore.

Melanie

Little Ones

terrynaut's picture

I would imagine that Alyssa would need attention and would force interaction between her and her "mommy." Some mention has been made about Ronnie giving her attention, but I have to remind myself that this story is written in first person. Ronnie has mentioned giving Alyssa attention but hasn't focused on it. She's been distracted by too many other things.

I have a feeling that Alyssa and Stacy both will figure more prominently in Ronnie's thoughts, and as she shifts from getting used to be a woman, she'll focus more and more on her loved ones.

If this story was written in third person, I'd expect to read about a lot more interaction, but not now. I'll behave myself and wait.

Thanks for the story. I hope more chapters are added soon. I've almost caught up to the most recent one.

- Terry

The Venus Touch 14

Just how much of the old Alyssa is there, waiting to emerge?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Operation base set up...

Well... the base is set up. Now it is for them to resuce the poor new girl.

I wonder how well that amnesia spell on alyssa is working. She might regain her powers some time.

Thank you for writing this awesome story,

Beyogi