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Leslie Brooke and his Aunt, Janet Blain, returned from the graveside where they laid Leslie’s Mom and Janet’s sister in her grave. Melissa Brooke had died of terminal cancer three days ago. She had only known that she had been gravely ill for the last two months. Janet, had come down and spent the last month with her sister and her nephew. As hard as her sister’s death had been on her, it was a hundred times harder on Leslie. He had lost his dad, Major Timothy Brooke USMC, four years earlier in Iraq, to an IED (improvised explosive device).

“I am going to lay down, Aunt Janet. I need to be by myself for a little while.”

Janet didn’t want to really leave the sixteen-year old boy by himself, but she recognized that he might actually need to grieve in his own way. She hugged the boy, wiped the tears from his face and then kissed his cheek.

“Okay sweetie, but remember, I am here to help you if you need it. I love you so much. We both are our last living relatives; I need you as much as you need me.”

“I know, I love you too.”

She hugged him once more and then watched him head to his room. Janet looked over the living room, the kitchen and dining room. The place was a mess from where they had had visitors bringing food, eating and sharing in their grief. She started to begin the cleanup, but was overcome with grief. She then opted to head to the guest room she was staying in and laid down on her bed, to have a good cry.

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Janet came stark awake. The apartment was dark; the only light in the room came from the clock radio, which showed the time, in bright red numbers, to be 5:12 A.M. She had been crying till she had fallen asleep, over twelve hours ago. She desperately needed to relieve herself, so she got up and hurried to the bathroom.
After she had relieved herself, she felt much better, at least until she looked at herself in the mirror. She had failed to clean off her makeup before she had laid down. She laughed to herself till she almost cried again; her red puffy eyes and her heavily streaked makeup, gave her a horrid appearance. She stripped off her black dress, pantyhose and underwear, then jumped into the shower. She let the warm water wash over and revive her, while she washed away the grime of the previous day.

She wrapped a towel around herself because she hadn’t brought any clean things or her robe with her, so tiptoed back to her room. She just hoped that she wouldn’t run into Leslie before she got to her room. Luck was with her, as she could see no light coming from under his door as she went by.
She dressed in a pair of jeans and a peasant blouse, before making up her face. She wanted to look fresh and beautiful for her nephew today. There would be more time in the future to grieve, but for now she had to help Leslie survive.

The apartment was still a mess when she came out of her room and turned the lights on. She got to work cleaning it up. She first grabbed a trash bag and began picking up paper plates, plastic cups and plastic silverware. She had two large bags worth when she went to the trash dump. Then she picked up all the dishes that the people had so kindly brought over for them to eat. Those dishes that still had food in them, got emptied into another trash bag and she pre-rinsed the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher. She made sure she knew whose dish was whose before she started the dishwasher, so she could return them to the rightful owners. It took three full dishwasher loads to clean them all.

The apartment was halfway presentable by eight. Still, Leslie had failed to make his presence known. Janet went to his room and lightly tapped on his door. She didn’t hear anything so she cracked his door open a bit and peeked into his room. She gasped when she saw that his bed, though rumpled a bit, was empty.

Panicking, she checked his closet and the bathroom. He might have gone in there while she had her back turned. He wasn’t there. She then ran to her sister’s room. She gasped as she saw a body on the bed. There was a girl, no… no, it was Leslie lying there, wearing his mother’s silky night gown. He looked so much like her sister. His shoulder length hair, which he usually kept in a ponytail, was loose and lay around his head. He looked so pretty. Janet had never thought about how her nephew would look, dressed as a girl and yet, there he was. The only thing feminine that had been added was the gown, but he looked so nice.

She smiled as she saw his chest rise and fall, she had been afraid that he might have taken some of his Mom’s pills, she had a lot of heavy duty pain and cancer drugs, or something to end it all. He was still alive. How should she handle this, she didn’t want to embarrass the poor boy.
The first thing she did was to go to the master bathroom and flush all those pills her sister took, down the toilet. She knew that she shouldn’t do that, there were prescribed methods of disposing of medications, but she didn’t want to leave temptations lying around.

She thought while she worked. Maybe Leslie dressing as a girl, for a little while, might not be a bad thing; girls were allowed to grieve more openly by society. She knew it was hogwash that boys shouldn’t cry. Maybe he dressed in his Mom’s gown to be closer to her. Janet didn’t know, but she would find out.

She checked her sister’s room and then the rest of the house, for anymore meds. Once she was satisfied that there were no more dangerous drugs in the house, she came back to the sleeping form of her nephew. He looked so angelic lying there.

She fretted several minutes over what to do. Finally she walked over and sat on the bed next to Leslie. His hair was so soft and silky, as she ran her fingers through it. She could tell that he took good care of it. She knew he used Paul Mitchell shampoo and conditioner on it. It smelled of coconut and the smell made her hungry. The shampoo and conditioner was in his bathroom and she had been using it too since she had come down to stay with her sister.

Finally she reached down and kissed his cheek, before whispering in his ear, “Wake up, sweetie. Time to rise and shine,” as she shook him gently.

Leslie cracked open an eye, it took a bit more effort, as his lashes were matted together and his eyelids were gummed together from crying.

“Morning Aunt Janet.” Leslie said. It felt good waking up this way. His Mom sometimes woke him up with a kiss.
He then remembered how he was dressed and panicked a bit.

Janet understood what was going through his mind and said, “Its okay sweetie, I don’t mind. Why don’t you go use the bathroom and I will be here, waiting to set your hair?”

Leslie got up and hurried into his Mom’s bathroom. He had been surprised at Aunt Janet’s reaction. He thought back at what had happened the day before. He had cried quietly on his bed till it had gotten dark. He had gotten up and had peeked in on his sleeping Aunt, before wandering about the apartment. He missed his Mom and wondered how or if he could get on with his life. Hours had passed, he was tired and had gone to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. Finally he had gotten up and gone to his Mom’s room. He hadn’t gone in there since before she had passed away. Aunt Janet had gone in there and had picked out the things she had been buried in.

Lying on her bed, he could smell his Mom and found some comfort. He had grabbed one of her pillows to hug. When he had done that, he found her gown folded beneath the pillow. He didn’t remember getting undressed and putting it on. He guessed he had done that on automatic. He just remembered that it smelled strongly of her scent. As he lay there, he just fell asleep, feeling comforted.

Leslie debated taking the gown off, but he was naked underneath it, so he didn’t do that. He did cover the gown with his Mom’s long satin robe, that hung on the back of the bathroom door. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, with a new toothbrush he found in the medicine cabinet.

Aunt Janet was waiting for him when he came out of the bathroom. She smiled when she saw him in Melissa’s robe; he looked that much more feminine in it.

Leslie saw his Aunt standing by his Mom’s vanity. He was glad that she didn’t look upset or mad that he was dressed in his mom’s things.

“Sit here sweetie and let me get your hair.”

He sat on the stool in front of the vanity. Aunt Janet brushed the tangles out and continued to brush it till the hair had a shine to it. She took a wet comb to it and sectioned the hair off, clipping it in bunches, to the top of his head. She then took Melissa’s hot rollers and rolled Leslie’s hair up. She then took a nail file and set about filing his nails. They were atrocious; he had taken to chewing his nails over the last few weeks, because he was so worried.

“You need to take better care of your nails; we can get you some tips later, if you want?”
Janet then selected a nail polish and added two coats to each nail. Leslie watched, as she painted each nail a nice dusty rose. His Aunt’s actions surprised him, but he wasn’t complaining. She then used a matching colored lipstick, to do his lips, carefully giving him a cupid’s bow. He could taste the lipstick; it reminded him of those times his Mom kissed him.

When Janet heard Leslie’s stomach growling she said to him, “You must be starving, put your Mom’s slippers on and come to the kitchen. I will make you something to eat.”

Melissa’s slippers, or more correctly called wedge mules, were next to her bed, where she had left them. He found that they were about a half an inch longer than his feet and just a little too narrow, but weren’t too uncomfortable. He found the two inch rise of the heel manageable, as he stood and walked to the kitchen.
Janet poured him a cup of coffee, in a pink and gold china cup. They had both been living on coffee and adrenaline, for the last two weeks, since Melissa was hospitalized, before she had passed away. They both needed to cut down on the caffeine, but now was not the time. Leslie smiled, as he sipped the potent brew. Janet and he both liked their coffee black and strong, in comparison to Melissa’s brown and sweet. He stared at the lip print he left on the gold leafed brim of the cup. He brushed it away with his finger before replacing it with another lip print.

It was a simple breakfast, just scrambled eggs, sausage links and toast, but they both felt better after eating.

“Now, why don’t you take a bath in your mom’s bathroom, and if you want to, I will help you get dressed. You might shave your legs and your arm pits, if you want.” Janet told Leslie, figuring that if he wanted to keep dressing up as a girl, he would do that much. “I will run a tub for you; you will spend at least a half hour soaking in it.”

Janet ran the tub and added a fistful of lavender bath salts. The fragrance was relaxing. Leslie found the water was very warm and had to slowly get in the tub. Janet had covered his rolled up hair in a bath cap. He relaxed in the tub for ten minutes before he took his Mom’s loofa and bath gel, to clean himself. He scrubbed himself pink, trying to scrub away the pain he felt. When he finished, he saw his Mom’s razor and decided to go ahead and shave his legs and armpits. He didn’t have much to shave; he hadn’t even begun shaving his face yet. His legs only had a few fine hairs, though his armpits had a lot more. Leslie didn’t like the hair he grew in his armpits, he realized after it was gone; it just kept the stink in place.

Leslie had to come out in just his Mom’s robe; Janet had taken the gown out of the bathroom. He found his Aunt waiting for him.

“Take your robe off Leslie; I need to measure you, to see what I have got to work with.”

She smiled as she saw that he had shaved his legs and armpits. She took a measuring tape and took his measurements. He was thirty-two at the chest, thirty at his natural waist and thirty-four at his hips. She figured that he was fifteen pounds underweight, at a hundred and fifteen pounds, for his five foot, seven inch frame. Janet had lost a few pounds herself in the last few weeks. It is hard to eat when you are sick and worried.

“You are too thin, we both need to pack on a few pounds.”

This can only help with what I am going to do for him, she left unsaid. She wrapped a merry widow around his waist. It took off a couple of inches she needed to get off his waist. Janet stuffed the cups of the merry widow with several pair of pantyhose.

She then took a pair of stockings and rolled them up his legs, attaching them to the garter tabs. She was amazed that his penis hung limp, as she smoothed them up his legs. Personally, she found it quite stimulating when she put on her stockings.

“Stockings go on before panties, or you have snake the straps through the panty, so you can go to the bathroom easier, Leslie,” she said, in a matter of fact voice. “Otherwise, you have to undo your garter tabs first.”

“Okay,” Leslie said, paying rapt attention to what his Aunt was doing. He had never worn stockings before and loved the way they felt on him.

Janet then handed him a pair of white silk lace panties and a padded brief to put on. If there was one bad thing about Melissa’s figure, it was that she had a flat butt. She had a nice bust and a slim waist, she had been a 36C up top and was 26 inches at her waist, before she had gotten sick, she just needed a little padding to make her 34 inch hips and butt look better. So she almost always wore a padded brief.

Janet had to help Leslie with the problem of where his penis and testicles had to go with the brief on. She found that the testes could be massaged up and his penis could be held in place by the brief while pointed towards his butt. She was pleased that he had a feminine front now. Leslie didn’t say it, but he liked the look, albeit it was a little uncomfortable, but he could live with it, he thought.

Leslie then was led over to the vanity, where Janet had him sit with his back to the mirror. She worked on him for half an hour, adding foundation, powder, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, blush and lipstick. She had almost started to pluck his brows, but thought that that might be a bit too much right now. She just wasn’t sure about this. Leslie tried to pay attention to what she was doing, but it was hard to, since he couldn’t see what she was doing.

She then unrolled Leslie’s hair and did her best to style it in a feminine style. Combing and teasing it, before she sprayed it, with a healthy dose of hair spray. When she was finished, she was pleased with her efforts.

“Can I see what I look like now?” Leslie asked.

“Let me get you dressed first. I want you to get the whole effect.”

Janet escorted him to Melissa’s closet; she already had an outfit in mind. Most of Melissa’s clothes would look nice on Leslie, but most would be a bit mature for a teen girl. Janet found a turquoise blouse and a black wool-crepe knee length pencil skirt. It would be loose enough for him to walk in, but tight enough to force him to take smaller steps.

The blouse fit nicely, but it took a little work to get the skirt buttoned and zipped up. He would need a corset to fit in some of Melissa’s clothes, Janet realized. Leslie then put on a pair of black patent pumps that had a three-inch stiletto heel, which Janice handed him. The heels were a little tight, but long enough for his feet. His Aunt then added a pearl necklace and clip on earrings, a few bangles and two rings. She then fussed with Leslie, till he couldn’t stand it.

“Stop fiddling with me and let me see, Aunty.”

“Alright, just one more thing first.”

She helped him into a matching black jacket, before helping him walk to the full-length mirror. He found that these heels were just a little harder to walk in.

“Close your eyes,” she said. She then turned him to face the mirror. “Okay, open them.”

Leslie wasn’t prepared for what he saw. There in the mirror stood his Mom, no not quite his mom. He could be his Mom’s and his Aunt’s sister or daughter.

“Oh my,” Leslie said. He got weak in the knees and would have collapsed if not for his Aunt Janice.

“You look like your mom when we were teens Leslie.”

They hugged and cried for a bit, taking strength from each other.

After they both had a good cry, they both giggled as they looked at each other.

“You look like a raccoon,” Leslie said.

“You are the pot calling the kettle black, girl. Come on, let’s get your face cleaned and get you out of that outfit,”

“Do I have to, Aunt Janet?”

“No, you don’t have to; I just thought you might want to.”

“It’s alright; I kinda want to stay like this for a little while.”

“Well, let’s clean up our faces and get made up girl.”

They sat side by side on the stool at the vanity. Janet took a makeup wipe to both of their faces. She then did her makeup, showing Leslie what she was doing and then she redid Leslie’s makeup. Leslie followed closely what she was doing. Leslie stopped her and asked what she was specifically using at various times.

When they both looked good, they just stared at each other in the mirror.

“I just can’t believe how good you look as a girl, Leslie.”

“I know. It’s weird in a good way. We could be sisters.”

“Let’s see how you do in those heels.”

Janet helped Leslie stand and walk to the living room. She then gave him girl lessons on how to sit, stand and walk. She corrected the way he held his arms, as he stood and walked. Leslie was a fast learner and within a half hour, was walking as well as any girl. Even his voice sounded girly. At puberty, his voice had gone down very little, but he just had to change his intonation to get a sexy voice.

At about eleven, Janet told Leslie, “I need to go out for a while. I want to take a box of dishes to your mom’s workplace so the girls there can get their dishes back and I will pick us up some Chinese for lunch.
Will you be ok here alone?”

“I will be ok Aunt Janet; you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Are you sure? I can put it off till later.”

“Go Aunty, I’m not going to do anything crazy.”

“Alright, you have my cell phone number, if you need me.”

Janet went to the kitchen and picked up a box of dishes, she gave her niece a kiss as she left. She just couldn’t think of such a lovely creature as a nephew.

(to be continued)