Chapter Eleven — Mother Discovers She Has A Daughter

It was the last week before my mother and stepfather left on their month-long trip to Europe, leaving me alone to indulge in my shameful desires. My stepfather would be home on Monday and Tuesday, and leave Wednesday morning. Mother was going to meet him at the airport in Washington on Sunday morning. Mimi was going to drive her there on Saturday morning and spend the night with her -- mother asked me not to mention this to my stepfather, who assumed that they were driving down early Sunday. My school symphony orchestra was giving a concert on Friday evening, with me as the featured pianist.

Monday after school, I was downtown with mother. I went with her to pick up her furs from summer storage (one of the dry cleaners in town had a cold room for storing furs). She had a wonderful collection of furs, most of them given to her by my stepfather and some from her modeling work. Mother expressed her difficulties owning furs; she had realized the ethical issues involved, so she only wore them when she accompanied my stepfather to a party or function. She had a dozen or more things. My favorites were a white fox stole with a matching hand-warmer and pillbox style hat, a white fox capelet, a red fox bolero, a natural mink seven-eighths coat with sable trim, and a large natural mink throw. All the garments were stored in lightweight cotton garment bags.

Afterwards, I accompanied her downtown to a stationary shop. While she was inside, I left to stroll about, for a few doors down was my favorite ladies wear shop, "An Affair to Remember", a formal wear and bridal boutique. The shop was at the top of my ’pass by and admire the window display‘ list. Mother said she‘d come and find me in ten minutes or so. I sauntered past the shop, trying not to look conspicuous. There in its window was an indescribably feminine petal pink chiffon dress. The surplice bodice was pink tissue crepe silk with elbow-length chiffon flutter sleeves, the waist a wide corset of horizontal runched chiffon, and the skirt just over knee-length with a lettuce-hemmed crystal-pleated chiffon overlay over tissue crepe silk. I slowly walked past the window several times, pausing and admiring the dress, wishing it was mine, dreaming of how it would feel to be dressed so prettily. I must have lost track of time, for mother walked up behind me and gave me a fright.

"Did I scare you?" she laughed.

"Whew!" I answered.

"That‘s a lovely dress, isn‘t it?" she asked, acknowledging that she had seen me admiring it. I forget what I answered, but mother gave me a nice knowing smile

At home, I helped bring in the furs. She had me put them in the guestroom closet. She draped the mink throw over the loveseat.

Tuesday was my day to work at the library. When school was over, Mimi picked me up instead of mother. Mimi explained that mother had taken the train into the city to sign some paperwork with my stepfather and would be returning with him later that evening. She drove me home. While she was fixing lunch for me, I went to my room. I peered into the guest room; mother had laid out the charcoal gray woven silk slacks and the coordinated mohair blend argyle V-neck sweater. I opened the closet door to find the shimmering gray Natori camisole and tap pantie displayed, the hangers turned so that the garments faced the closet door. The matching skirt and pettislip hung next to them.

I had an hour or more before I was expected at the library (Melanie didn‘t care when I showed up). ’Why not?‘ I asked myself. A half an hour later or so, I came downstairs to have lunch with Mimi wearing the same outerwear I wore the last time I worked at the library: soft denim slacks, heather gray cable-knit cashmere and lambswool sweater, and my oversized blue and white patterned flannel shirt. Beneath were the blue foundations; pantie, garter belt, brassier, and the blue stockings with the run in them. (I really needed new stockings). Over these were the silver gray Natori chemise and tap pantie that mother had hung for me to find. In my backpack, safely wrapped in a plastic dry cleaner‘s bag to protect them from my dirty backpack were the slacks and sweater that mother had lain out. In another plastic bag were the black velvet Sabrina heeled pumps, sachets to pad my brassiere, the bun-curler, hairbrush, lipstick, and cheek blush.

Mimi dropped me off at the library and I made my way to the third floor bathroom, coming out many minutes later wearing the slacks and sweater and pumps, my hair done up, my lips painted and cheeks blushed. I didn‘t pad my brassiere on the off-chance I encountered someone — I would have enough to deal without reaching beneath my sweater to remove the sachets. Besides, there was something about being all dressed in ladies clothes, but not actually trying to pass as a lady, which gave me a special thrill. I had to walk carefully on my pumps — my heeled pumps clicked on the hardwood floor. There I was; the sissy librarian. I don‘t know how I managed to get anything done.

Mimi picked me up on schedule, and I was able to put everything away by the time mother and stepfather returned from the city. Somehow, I refrained from creaming that evening — my little escapade at the library had left me in such a mood.

On Wednesday morning, I said goodbye to my stepfather. We shook hands and he gave me an awkward hug. I had a full day of school as the orchestra had its final practice before the concert. Back home that evening, mother made the suggestion that I skip school the next day to hang out with her, saying that she might need my help to get ready for her trip. I readily agreed, saying I was all caught up on homework.

After dinner, she suggested that I slip into my new pajamas and that I spend the night in the guestroom. I agreed with little fuss, and soon came downstairs in the wonderful sand-washed silk pajamas and cashmere robe. Mother had changed into her mint green nightgown and robe. We watched a bit of television before bedtime. I was careful in the guestroom that evening as I wanted to save myself for my holiday.

When I came downstairs the next morning, still wearing my new set, I found mother nicely dressed in an empire waist wool jersey dress in dark blue with a floral pattern, a dress that I had briefly dressed in on a couple of occasions. I was always affected when I saw her dressed in something that I myself had dressed in. Invariably, I‘d feel subdued, being constantly reminded of my innermost feelings, my shameful desire to dress-up. My thoughts would be of how I had looked in it, the details about when I dressed in it — what accessories I wore, what underthings, and what emotions I had felt. Since the dress was one of her more classy daytime dresses, I assumed that plans had changed and she was going somewhere. When I asked if she was going somewhere, she replied she wasn‘t. I was confused, but tried not to show it.

"Dear? After breakfast, why you to take a nice shower and wash your hair; I‘ve got a little uh… surprise. Use some of that nice shampoo and conditioner I bought you, too, alright?"

What in the world was the surprise? I thought. The only conclusion I could come to was that she wanted to do something with my hair. Perhaps she was going to cut it. But I came to another conclusion, one that sent chills through me.

So upstairs I went and took a long shower, washing and conditioning my hair and lathering my skin with scented soaps and bath lotions. I dried off with a big velour towel and applied more skin lotion, then pulled on the soft combed cotton shorts from the pajama set mother had bought me, then into the plush terry robe and, finally, wrapped the terry hair towel around my long wet hair. I was about to change into jeans and a sweater when mother knocked on my bedroom door.

"Are you decent, sweetie?" she asked, opening the door slightly.

"Uh — yea" I replied.

She opened the door the rest of way and upon seeing me in my terry robe said "Perfect; don‘t change a thing. Now, can you meet me in the guestroom?"

My head was buzzing as I walked across the hallway to the guestroom. Mother was sitting on the bed, facing the door. Behind her, I saw that the peach and cream tweed St. John‘s suit and the pink silk and cashmere V-neck tank top were all hanging on the dressing screen. I could also see the exposed ends of hanger hooks facing out, which meant that something was hanging on the other side of the dressing screen.

"Come sit with me" she said, patting the bed next to her.

It was if I was in a trance as I walked to the bed and sat next to her. I knew that she was somehow going to confront me about my crossdressing — that was the only explanation. But beyond that, I had no idea. My skin felt clammy, my palms sweaty.

She turned to face me, tucking a leg beneath her. My legs were dangling over the side of the bed and she said "Go ahead and pull your legs up and sit comfortably, okay?" I tucked my legs beneath me.

She patted my hand.

"This is a little difficult for me dear" she began. "So just bear with me and let me talk."

She took a deep breath and gathered herself.

"Dear? I have a big favor to ask of you. I know you‘re going to think it very unusual, but I really want you to do it for me. I‘m asking you because I‘m going away for a month and when I return things are going to change around here — us moving to New York, you graduating then going off to school. And, to tell the truth, I‘m a little nervous about this trip… something could happen to me and I‘d regret not asking you to do this for me."

I was absolutely perplexed and more than a bit concerned for she was almost trembling. Why was she worried that something would happen to her and she‘d never see me again?

"Of course, mother, what is it?" I asked, preparing for a catharsis.

"Well dear, do you remember back when Mimi would buy outfits for her niece and you‘d try them on?"

My heart stopped beating for a moment it seemed then started up again, pounding in my chest.

"Uh huh" I croaked, my mouth dry.

"Well, I don‘t know if you knew, but I so enjoyed seeing you in a girl‘s dress. For just a few minutes, you became the daughter I never had…" She paused for a moment. I could tell she was gathering herself for whatever she was about to say. Finally: "What I‘m asking, dearest, is that today, would you please let me dress up as my daughter?"

I gasped. I tried to form some sort of response, but couldn‘t.

"Please, dear?" mother continued. "It would mean so much to me. I‘ve wanted to do this for such a long time and now I‘m afraid this will be the last chance. Please?" And then with a smile and another pat on my hand, she added "Pretty please?"

I somehow managed to whisper "Well… okay… sure, mother… if that‘s what you want…" My ears were ringing. How in the world was I going separate what mother was going to do to me from my own desires?

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together and then giving me a hug. "I have something all picked out for you to wear. It‘s hanging on the dressing screen behind us. But first, dear, I‘d like to set your hair. Come sit down at the vanity. I‘ve already heated some hair curlers." She took my hand and led me to the vanity. Once seated, she unwrapped the towel from around my head, quickly fetched a dry towel from the bathroom and vigorously rubbed and wiped my hair to dry it further.

"This will be so much fun, dear. I promise" she said as she began to comb my hair, humming to herself. She asked me about school and the upcoming concert as she worked some mousse into my hair and then rolled my hair into the curlers.

"Okay, dear… next we‘ll get you dressed while your hair is setting. There are some things behind the dressing screen. Go on now…" She placed her hand between my shoulder blades and gently guided me to the dressing screen. "There‘s a long-line girdle there, dear. Slip into it and zip it up."

In a trance, completely dazed and confused by what was happening I went behind the dressing screen to find the girdle lying on the ottoman. Next to it was the pair of white panties from the bureau and a new unopened package of nude nylon stockings. Hanging on the back side of the dressing screen were the shimmering silver gray jacquard with ecru bobbin lace trim camisole, tap pantie, and pettislip, I removed my robe and hung it on the corner of the screen.

"Can you get into the girdle okay?" she asked, standing on the other side of the dressing screen.

"I think so" I replied.

"You should put on the underwear too… you know… the panties… before putting on the girdle."

I slipped into the panties, wishing I had a pantie napkin. I struggled with the long-line girdle for a few moments, and then the sound of the zipper being zipped broke the silence.

"All set?" she asked. "Stockings next; I think you can figure it out. Just roll the stockings up before you put them on."

I almost said "I know" but caught myself. Finally, it was happening — no more silk pajamas, no androgynous dressings in soft sweaters and ladies slacks, no more furtive crossdressing — my mother was dressing me as her daughter.

"You‘ll need to clasp the stockings to the girdle. Just make sure your stockings are on nice and straight before you clasp them, okay? Just go slow. And after you put on the stockings, I want you to put on the other things hanging there as well; the half-slip, camisole, and pants."

"Do I need to?"

"Yes, dear, you do; they will help keep your dress from clinging. Now, while you‘re finishing up, I‘m going to fetch some things. I‘ll be back in a few minutes, okay sweetie? And dear? Thank you so very much for doing this for me."

My head was still buzzing as I opened the package of stockings. Why was she doing this? Was it doing it for me — because she knew I liked to crossdress? Or was she doing it for herself -- because she truly wanted to see me dressed as her daughter? Did she love me less because I was a boy and not the daughter she wanted? Didn‘t she know how wrong this was? Did she feel she could ask me to dress-up because she had discovered I was crossdressing already? Was she validating my desires? It was one of those rare moments when I thought about my natural mother — she certainly wouldn‘t have done this to me… or would she? Did it matter?

I began rolling a stocking up my leg, and felt the familiar chill of pleasure as the nylon caressed my skin. Other thoughts came to me. Was this some sort of trap? Was she going to confront me about my crossdressing? Was she going to ask about Auntie? After all, the dress came from Auntie… were they colluding together?

I could have yanked on the stockings and thrown on the daywear, but I didn‘t. I took time to relish the dressing. I decided I would keep mum about my desires, about how very much I wanted to be dressed as her daughter, to even live and be accepted as her daughter. I knew that it couldn‘t happen… or could it? I decided I‘d have to relax a little, to just let it happen and enjoy the moment.

"How‘s it going, dear?" she asked, returning just as I finished drawing on the pettislip.

"I guess I‘m done, mother."

"Well, come on out then. Let‘s see you."

I stepped out from behind the screen, forcing a bit of a smile, adjusting the strap of the camisole. "Is this okay?" I asked.

"Wonderful, dear; simply wonderful" she said, a smile on her face, her eyes twinkling.

I saw that she brought the pink patent leather Sabrina heel pumps from her closet, the very ones I had selected when I had worn the suit on one of my sojourns. She had also brought jewelry — pearls I surmised.

"Okay, next thing is to put on the top and skirt" she said, taking the hanger with the silk and cashmere top from the dressing screen, adding a remark about the fine fabric. She took it off the hanger and handed it to me, saying "You‘ll have to be a little careful pulling it over your curlers."

She helped me guide the top over my head, tugged at the hem to straighten it, and then fastened the single button in the back. She stepped back and gave me a look over. "Um… perhaps we should add a little padding. Now what could we use?" she mused. "I know —I‘ve got a couple of sachets in my room. Let me go fetch them."

She was back in half a minute with the pair of sachets that I always used to pad my brassiere. I wondered — did she know that I used them for that purpose? Or did she just think it up herself? I took the sachets from her, saying "Here, I‘ll do it" and stepped behind the dressing screen, coming out a minute later with the sachets in place.

"Much better!" she said gaily. "I‘m having fun, dear. Thank you so much for doing this. Are you doing alright? You don‘t mind, do you?"

"No — it‘s… it‘s okay, mother."

"Hey — just for old time‘s sake, would you mind calling me ’mommy‘ like you used to do when you were little? It would make me feel… I don‘t know… a bit more… comfortable, you know?"

"Really? You want me to call you mommy? That‘s just a little spooky."

She looked chagrined and said "Well… I guess it is… if you don‘t want to, that‘s okay."

"It‘s okay… mommy" I replied. "Why not?"

"And one other thing… Can I call you Evelyn? I know you don‘t like it, but it‘s such a nice name. And now that you look like my daughter…" She trailed off, looking more embarrassed than I was.

"That‘s fine, mommy. You can call me Evelyn." I had given up drawing the line — she was my mommy and I was her pretty daughter Evelyn — for now, anyway.

"Should I put on the skirt now, mommy?" I asked, breaking the tension.

"You‘re so sweet, Evelyn! Yes… the skirt‘s next."

She took down the skirt and unzipped it for me. I sat on the edge of the bed and drew it on. ’Relax‘ I told myself; ’just force yourself to relax and let it happen. You don‘t have to freak out… just let it be fun.‘

"You hold the skirt up and I‘ll zip it" she said.

I watched in the cheval mirror as my mother zipped up my skirt. It felt so… so natural, so accepted, I guess. There were, to my relief, no erotic feelings — just contentment.

"How does it feel, Evelyn? It seems a little loose" she observed.

"Yes, I think it is mommy." The girdle had smoothed my tummy enough that the skirt was a bit too loose.

"I know a perfect belt… hang on" she said, disappearing quickly down the hall to her room. A few moments later, she reappeared with a gold drop-chain belt. The gold chain was interspersed with big faux pearl beads. "Here, let me put it on — it‘s a bit confusing how these drop chain belts work." She wrapped it around my waist so that drop-chains fell down my left thigh, then pulled the waist chain tight and hooked it in the back.

I did a little turn in the mirror as mother beamed.

"That‘s better, don‘t you think?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so too, mommy."

"Now sit down at the vanity. I want to add a little makeup and try some jewelry." I sat down as she asked, unconsciously smoothing out the skirt.

"You did that just right, dear" she observed.

She opened a drawer, saying "I put some of my makeup in her, stuff I don‘t use anymore. Let‘s see… I think some pinkish lipstick…" She absentmindedly rummaged through the drawer, withdrawing tube of lipstick and putting it on the vanity top. She continued rummaging about, saying "…and some mascara… some eyeshadow… and, yes… some foundation cream… powder… and a bit of blush." She placed these things on the vanity top, along with a small triangular makeup sponge. (I had always wanted to use the sponge, but couldn‘t risk leaving it in the drawer all stained with makeup.)

She started with the mascara, telling me that you always started with mascara so that in case you missed and left a smudge, you could wipe it off cleanly. She handed me the mascara brush and gave me a bit of instruction.

"You‘re doing really well, dear" she said as she watched me. I had tried to make it look like I was unfamiliar with putting on mascara, but I guess I didn‘t. She began telling me about her modeling days when she had makeup artists do her makeup for her, how making up for the camera was different than normal makeup.

Next came some cream foundation. "You need just a little bit of this, Evelyn — your young skin is so flawless. But a little foundation cream helps with the blush." She applied a few streaks of the cream to one cheek, then smoothed it out with the sponge, telling me how one should always do one side of the face before doing the other; otherwise, the foundation cream would dry up on the one side while working with the other side. She applied it to the other cheek. Next she opened the compact of face powder and patted it on each check, then smoothed it out all over.

Eyeshadow came next. She told me how eyeshadow should go from a light shade starting at the nose to a darker shade on the outside. Then she did my cheek blush. Finally, she had me do the lipstick, telling me how the professionals applied lipstick using a brush, first outlining the lips with a pencil.

"You look really, really cute, dear" she said when we were finished. "Now I think that pearls would look really good with this outfit, don‘t you?"

"Yes mommy."

She had brought her single strand necklace of pearls from her room and now placed it around my neck, clasping it in the back.

"These are very nice pearls, aren‘t they mommy?" I asked.

"Yes… I love pearls" was her reply. "These are some of my best pearls. This set came from Japan years and years ago. They‘d be really expensive if you bought them today. Now I want you to put on these earrings, okay?" She laid the pair on the vanity top — four pearl drop earrings.

"Of course, mommy; I guess it‘s good that I got my ears pierced, huh?"

"Yes, I‘m so glad you did. There‘s not much selection for clip-on earrings."

When I had finished with the earrings, I shook my head a little and gave myself a look in the mirror, gently pulling aside a strand of hair that had escaped the curlers to get a better view of the earrings.

"Isn‘t this fun? You look so cute. I‘m so glad you‘re having a bit of fun with this dear. Let‘s put on the jacket and then I‘ll let down your hair."

As I stood at the cheval mirror, she stood behind me and helped me into the jacket, then came around in front to adjust the collar. She stood back to admire the dressing, saying "You look fabulous, dear. Just look at you."

She had me sit down again at the vanity. She clasped a two-strand pearl bracelet around my left wrist and had me add a peach Bakelite bangle bracelet. Then she began taking the curlers out of my hair. When they were all removed and my long curled hair cascaded down, she used the comb to arrange and fluff it out a bit.

"Oh, Evelyn, you‘ve got the prettiest hair. Just look at you. No one would ever guess you were anything but my daughter. You are just so so pretty. Now let‘s see if these heels will fit you."

She handed me the heels. I began to cross my leg to slip into it when she said "No — that will stretch the skirt fabric. Besides, it‘s so unladylike. Bend down instead." When I bent over, my hair cascaded down.

"Do they fit alright? They‘re probably too tight, huh?"

"No… they fit fine, mommy."

She helped me stand, taking my hand, cautioning me about wearing heels. She stood me in front of the cheval mirror. She was standing behind me and ran her hands slowly down my arms, saying "Just look at you, Evelyn. You make the prettiest girl. I could get you a modeling job just like that" she said, snapping her fingers. "What do you think? Do you mind dressing up as a girl?"

I had to pause and think of an appropriate response.

"No. I don‘t mind mommy. It‘s kind of fun." I considered responding with the whole truth, but couldn‘t bring myself to do so. Besides, she probably knew.

"Really? I‘m glad to hear you say that, dear. You know, maybe while I‘m away…" She didn‘t complete the sentence, leaving it hanging there to sink in.

After a few moments, moments that I think she was waiting for me to say something more, she said "Let‘s go downstairs. I‘d like to take a couple of pictures of you as a keepsake. Don‘t worry, I‘ll send them away to get developed — no one will see but you and me, okay?"

"Well — as long as no one ever sees them, mommy, I guess it‘s okay."

"Great. Be careful walking down the stairs on those heels."

We went into our formal parlor. She produced a disposable flash camera and had me sit on the couch and instructed me to sit with my knees together with my hands folded in my lap. She took a couple of shots. Then she had me stand by the grand piano, first with the jacket open, then with it buttoned. Because of her modeling experience, she knew how to pose me, having me bend lean against the piano, one knee slightly bent, my elbows bent, hands gently clasped. She also had me play the piano while she took a couple more shots.

It was nearing lunchtime and the roll of film was half-way done. "No use wasting film. Let‘s have a little lunch then try a few different accessories on you, like that scarf that Beverly sent with the suit."

Together, we made soup and a sandwich. "This is so much fun for me, Evelyn" she said as we sat down to eat. "Is it fun for you?"

"Umm… yes mommy. I‘m having a nice time" I replied.

"Oh wonderful — I‘m so glad to hear that."

She told me that Mimi was coming over for dinner and the movie and that she wanted it to be a special night since it was our last movie night together for a long while.

"Just so you know… you don‘t have to change before dinner if you don‘t want" she said after a pause, speaking barely above a whisper.

I let out a grunt and then whined "Mother…"

"Mimi wouldn‘t mind at all, dear… really…" she replied in a non-committal way.

"Well… I‘d rather not" I replied, hiding my angst.

"Well, alright then. But that doesn‘t mean you can‘t wear something nice. I‘m planning on wearing something nice and so is Mimi."

"Uh… okay, mommy."

"I‘ve got an idea on what you could wear. We‘ll discuss it later, okay?" She then changed the subject to Mimi, saying how she wanted Mimi to stay with me while she was gone. Knowing that I would object as I had been doing, she quickly added "Don‘t worry dear — I‘m sure you two will have a fine time together. She‘s really looking forward to it. Don‘t look so sad, okay? I think you‘ll really enjoy having her here."

We went upstairs to her room and together selected a couple of hairpieces, some costume jewelry in coral pink and ivory, a scarf clip, and beige chiffon scarf. As she was selecting things, she would ask my opinion. I could have responded with "Whatever you say, mommy" but instead got into it, agreeing that the jewelry would match the suit colors, that the colors and pattern on a particular scarf was too ’busy‘.

"You‘ve got such good tastes, Evelyn" was her response.

She sat me down at her vanity to fix the first hairpiece; a peach and cream layered crepe bow. Just as she finished, the doorbell rang.

"Oh, drat!" she exclaimed "who could that be? I‘ll go answer it dear… you just stay here."

"Uhhh… of course I will, mommy" I replied with a chuckle.

"You‘re so sweet" she said, kissing me on the cheek and going downstairs.

I heard her open the door and say loudly "Barbara! I completely forgot! I‘m so sorry. Come into the study. Do you want some coffee?" I heard the door close and some muffled conversation as they moved to the study. Then I heard mother say "I‘ll be right back — I‘ve got to go upstairs for a moment."

Back in her room, in a quiet voice, she told me that it was Barbara Higgins from the historical society. She had come over to have mother sign some checks. Mother had completely forgotten that they had agreed to meet that afternoon. "I‘ll try to get rid of her as quickly as possible Evelyn, but this may take a half-an-hour. Why don‘t you pass the time experimenting with different accessories and things and pick your favorite look? And maybe you could do your nails, too — you can choose the color." She gave me another kiss on the cheek and left.

She was gone for over an hour. I spent the first half-hour or so experimenting with combinations of carves and jewelry, finally deciding on the coral pink and ivory jewelry with the chiffon scarf Auntie had sent.

I found myself sitting at her vanity studying my reflection. So many different emotions were churning inside of me, so many questions. It had to be a dream… this really wasn‘t happening. Both my mother and her sister had now crossdressed me. Had they found out my desires and were just coddling me? Or was there something else, something I didn‘t know? My eyes moistened — I was on the verge of tears. I had to dab my eyes with tissue and blow my nose ever-so-quietly so that mother‘s guest didn‘t hear. I just didn‘t know what I was going to do with myself, with my future. I needed something to take my mind away from all these thoughts, so I painted my nails with blush pink polish.

I heard mother say her goodbyes and soon she was back in her bedroom with me. Her first comments were about my selections, telling me how nice they looked, that I had such good tastes.

"And you‘ve painted your nails, too!" she exclaimed with delight.

"Yea… I got kind of bored" I replied.

She must have noticed my moist eyes, for she asked with great concern: "Dear… have you been crying?"

"Oh — no; I had to sneeze and I didn‘t want to make any noise, you know" I lied.

"Are you sure?" she asked again. "I don‘t want you to cry, sweetheart. You‘re not crying because I‘ve dressed you as a girl, are you?"

"No, mommy — I haven‘t been crying" I replied unconvincingly.

She didn‘t believe me, for she continued "I‘m so sorry, dear. I shouldn‘t have done this to you. I‘ve been so selfish. I shouldn‘t have told you about my wishes for a daughter. You poor thing, you, you were just trying to keep your mother happy. I just thought… I don‘t know… I just thought you would like it since… you know… It doesn‘t matter. Do you want to undress now?"

"No mommy. It‘s fine. I don‘t mind" I replied, my head swirling with questions. "I haven‘t been crying — honest. Everything‘s fine…"

"Really? Are you sure dear?"

"Yes mommy, I‘m sure."

If ever there was a moment when she would confront me about my crossdressing, it was now. If ever there was a moment when I would admit to her how much I like crossdressing, it was now as well. But neither of us could take the initiative; it was all left unsaid.

Her mood turned cheerful. "Let‘s go downstairs and finish the roll."

She had me pose by the dinner table by the candelabra and chandelier. She had me put the candelabra on the grand piano and pose by it. The roll was finished with me sitting at the piano and playing. I continued to practice my piece for the concert as mother started to prepare dinner. As I played, my nerves settled down and my playing flowed. During a pause, mother came in and told me how beautiful my playing was.

"Oh my goodness — look at the time. Mimi will be over in less than an hour. I need to change. Are you sure you don‘t want to wear a dress for dinner?"

"I‘m sure, mother" I replied, sounding exasperated.

We went upstairs together and she followed me into the guestroom. She helped me out of the jacket and hung it on its hanger, putting it back on the dressing screen. The jewelry, scarf, hairpiece, and drop-chain belt came next, then the heels, skirt, and top, leaving me standing in the pettislip and camisole.

"You know…" she mumbled as she stood at the closet "…I think you should wear this for dinner." She held up the fawn colored rayon slacks and the coordinate silk and cashmere jewel neck sweater with off-white trim.

"Oh mommy…" I said with a bit of exasperation, trying to form an excuse. But she easily talked me into it, saying that the slacks and sweaters were perfectly acceptable and appropriate dinner wear and that she and Mimi would appreciate my attempt to "dress nicely tonight — we are."

She laid the slacks and sweater on the bed.

"Now, about the movie tonight — what pajamas and robe were you planning on wearing?"

I replied that I‘d probably wear the white silk set from Auntie.

"I‘d really like for you to wear these tonight" she said, removing the blue silk surah pajama bottoms and short chemise from the closet.

"Mommy… no…" I whined. But again, she somehow convinced me, telling me that it boys and men used to wear "things with lace all the time" and that I could wear my new cashmere robe which would hide the chemise, and that Mimi really wouldn‘t care. "Besides, if you wear it tonight, Mimi won‘t think it unusual if you wear these while I‘m gone" she said with a pleasant smile.

It was that last comment that worked. She laid them out on the bed next to the slacks and sweater. The tap panties were attached to the same hanger as the pajama bottoms, and when she laid the pajama bottoms on the bed, she laid them so that the tap panties were displayed on top.

"Now… there‘s some cold cream in the bathroom — you can use that to remove your makeup if you want — it‘s better than soap. And I‘m thinking that these slacks may be a bit tight around your waist. You might want to keep your girdle on."

"Okay mommy" I breathed.

"Thank you dear. Now I‘ve got to go get ready." She closed the door behind her.

Tingling all over, I dressed for dinner. I couldn‘t wear the all-in-one girdle because the cups would be seen beneath the sweater, so I changed into the shaping pantie, attaching my nylons to its garters. I also wore the silver gray jacquard camisole and tap pantie beneath the slacks and sweater. I removed my makeup with the cold cream as mother had suggested, leaving behind little traces that I smoothed out with a sponge. I tied back my hair with an elastic band, but it didn‘t help much — my hair still had its curl. I had a little moment of indecision about earrings, but I went ahead and put on my small gold hoops.

I had barely removed my nail polish when I heard Mimi arriving. I checked myself in the cheval mirror — I was much too feminine; the rayon slacks were a long spill of creamy liquid down my legs, my derriá¨re a bit too curvaceous, the sweater too soft and girlish, my long hair curling down my back, my gold hoop earrings flashing in the soft light beneath strands of hair, flecks of nail polish on my fingernails, and my face showing still showing the effects of the makeup I had worn earlier that day. I slipped my feet into a pair of my tan loafers and nervously came down the stairs.

Mother was wearing a fifties style cocktail dress; bouffant skirt with a front buttoned blouse, wide fabric belt, and a high stand-up color. The top was organza and the skirt made of multiple layers of ninon and organza. The color was a striking moss green, a color that mother wore so well. Beneath the rather sheer organza top she wore a dark green camisole. She had chosen jade and gold jewelry and a pair of high de Orsa stiletto heels.

Mimi was equally striking in a pair of silver blue chiffon palazzo slacks matched with a beautiful beaded blue bustier and a sweeping silver blue chiffon jacket embroidered with blue thread, and dark blue pumps. Her jewelry was minimal — just a pair of silver earrings and a couple of silver bracelets. Her hair was brushed out with mousse applied to give it a bouffant style, and she had done her makeup.

"Wow!" I exclaimed "look at you two!" complete forgetting about my own dressing.

"I told you we were dressing up tonight, dear" she said, taking a turn. "Doesn‘t Mimi look fabulous?" she asked, prodding me.

"Oh yes, Mimi. You look really nice" I quickly replied.

"And so do you, Dahl" she said, looking me up and down. "I see your mother finally got you to wear those slacks and sweater. They are very nice, no?"

I just blushed. Mother interjected, saying "I practically had to beg, but I finally got to him to try them on. You look very nice, dear" she said, giving me a look.

We soon sat down to eat. Mother had me light the candles on the candelabra. We had a nice easy conversation, talking about mother‘s upcoming trip, my upcoming concert — they wanted to hear my piece after dinner — and how my job at the library was going. Mother mentioned again how she thought I should wear nicer things to the library, like "those slacks and sweater you‘re wearing."

"You know, Mimi, I think Dale is looking forward to have you stay with him" she said during a lull. "I think you two will have so much fun together."

"Yes, I think so too, Ellen" replied Mimi, giving me a slight smile.

I played my piano piece after dinner while mother and Mimi lounged on the couch. The outline of the garter clasps on my pantie girdle showed when I sat down on the piano bench. I doubted mother or Mimi saw the outline. When I was finished, mother said "Well, it‘s time for us girls to slip into our nighties and watch our movie. It‘s a classic — ’Funny Face‘ staring Audrey Hepburn. It‘s the last movie night we‘ll have together for a while. I asked Dale if he wouldn‘t mind wearing those nice blue pajamas tonight, Mimi."

Mother‘s comment about ’us girls‘ left me blushing.

"And…?" asked Mimi.

"He said he would."

"Wonderful. Well, let‘s all go change then."

Mother and I headed upstairs while Mimi went to her room.

I was unconscious at this point. I finished undressing, putting the daywear back on hangers and hanging them from the dressing screen. I removed the stockings and squirmed out of the girdle, then the panties, leaving them all on the ottoman. I then dressed in the exquisite set, adding the matching bikini from the foundation set in the bureau drawer. I tied the long white silk charmeuse robe tightly around me.

Mimi was waiting for me — mother hadn‘t come downstairs yet. She had started a fire in the fireplace — the first of the season. I stopped and gasped when I saw her; she was wearing a black lace halter top one-piece pantsuit and black chiffon robe trimmed with black marabou. The one-piece pantsuit had enormous flowing legs and was backed with white satin. She was holding a glass of sherry.

She smiled when she saw my expression and, putting down the sherry glass, put her hands on her hips, opening the robe to reveal all of the one-piece. Smiling, she asked if I liked it, and I stammered something.

"I‘d like to see your things, Dahl" she said coyly.

"Um…"

"Oh, come on, Dahl. It‘s alright — I know… your mommy likes you to wear nice things, even if they are ladies things."

A moment later, mother came down the stairs, rescuing me. She was wearing her beautiful and diaphanous pink robe and nightgown. It made me very uncomfortable — I was expecting her to wear one of her more modest night dressings. Although the set wasn‘t revealing, it was very romantic. Not only that, but it made me think of the times I had dressed in it, and the spectacular creaming I once had while wearing it.

"Well, look at us" she said gaily, bouncing over to the couch, saying that she hadn‘t worn the set for "the longest time — I thought tonight would be a perfect time."

I quickly took her cue and moved to sit in the chair.

"Do you like your pajamas dear?" mother asked, adding "They must feel nice, huh?"

"Yes mother… yes they do."

"I‘d like to see them" added Mimi.

"So would I dear" mother replied.

"Well… only because you insist" I mumbled as I untied the sash of the robe, doing so quickly. I let my robe hang open, not parting it.

"They‘re so lovely, aren‘t they Mimi?" asked mother.

"Oh yes… very beautiful…"

I hurriedly wrapped the robe back around me and sat down. Mother handed me a glass of sherry.

I started the movie, wanting to avoid any more conversation or confrontation about my ’lovely things‘.

It was all so incestuous, so salacious; mother dressed in the lovely and romantic night dressing, Mimi in her black lace and chiffon, and me in the most feminine silk surah set, my ears adorned with gold hoop earrings, the fire in the fireplace and the sherry softening the mood, and the scenes of Audrey Hepburn‘s dressings unfolding in the movie. Mother had to have known the affect it would have on me.

When the movie was over, mother said "Well, we‘ve got a busy day tomorrow, dear. I‘ve got last minute errands and I have to pack, and then there‘s your concert. I think we should close down and go to bed. You can spend the night in the guestroom, alright?"

"Okay"

"Wonderful. Mimi and I are going to stay up a while — there‘s some things we need to talk about."

I went right to bed and lay there stunned. So many thoughts went through my mind. How could the day have unfolded without the finality of me admitting that I loved to crossdress? Or without mother confronting me about it? She made it all seem as if I was doing her a favor instead of the other way around, how she went out of her way to ask if I ’minded‘ being dressed. But also… what a wonderful way to start my holiday — my mother opening all sorts of doors for me to spend my time dressing up in the guestroom and even sleeping in the guestroom. The only real issue was Mimi and how I would have to hide it from her.

It took a while, but my fingers began to explore my silk panties I was wearing. I desperately needed to cream in order to clear my thoughts and sleep. But I also wanted to save myself, and I knew if I creamed, I would probably have feelings of remorse and shame. I thought about mother wearing the beautiful and alluring pink chiffon nightgown and robe and Mimi in her salacious black lace one-piece. How incestuous… how salacious… how utterly shameful… I compromised by taking a velour hand towel and squeezing hard on my stimulated daintie when the precipice approached so that my orgasm was short and shallow. It seemed to have worked — I obtained some relief, but I avoided feelings of remorse. I drifted off to sleep, avoiding any thoughts of my holiday by focusing on my piano piece.

Chapter Twelve — The Lovely Ms. Hunter

I came downstairs the next morning wearing my soft combed cotton pajamas — camisole, bikini, pajama bottoms, nightshirt, and robe. Mimi was in the kitchen, wearing an apron over her soft denim long skirt and black turtleneck sweater.

"Good morning, Dahl. How are you?" she asked cheerfully.

"Wonderful, Mimi; good morning to you" I replied.

Mother came downstairs shortly thereafter. She was cheerful and announced that she had a wonderful time the previous night and had slept well. "In fact" she continued, "everything about yesterday was wonderful."

I blushed, thinking about everything that had unfolded, and hoped that neither she nor Mimi would bring up my crossdressing. I needn‘t have worried for we were soon eating breakfast together and discussing the day‘s activities. Mother had a busy day ahead of her and would be leaving shortly. She said she was going to use the guestroom as a staging area for packing. I said I‘d be practicing my piece for the rest of the morning. We agreed that the best time for Mimi or mother to take me to school was around two o‘clock. I could do some homework at the library and then join the rest of the school orchestra for practice. We‘d meet up for dinner and then both Mimi and mother would come to the concert. They‘d arrive around intermission — I wasn‘t playing until the second half and they needed the time to get things done. Beside, the first half was the junior orchestra and choir — nothing missed there.

After making sure that I took my usual vitamins, mother left, leaving me with Mimi. I went to my room and changed out of the pajamas and into jeans and a sweater. I spent most of the morning practicing my piece, noticing the flecks of nail polish that I had missed. While I was practicing, Mimi brought me a pot of my special tea. Mother came home for lunch and I changed into the clothes I‘d wear for the concert. As usual, we were to wear all black while performing and I chose a black lambswool sweater mother had bought for me instead of my usual black shirt. But I also wore the pink silk panties from the guestroom bureau.

Just before we were to leave, I peeked in the guestroom and saw that mother was indeed using it as a staging area, a place to pack her things — a couple of suitcases were on the bed along with various clothes.

I tried to study in the library, but just couldn‘t concentrate, thinking about the events of the previous day and the morning, going to the bathroom to find myself in the lacy pink panties. I wrote down some thoughts about the upcoming holiday in florid and feminine script, writing down what ensembles I‘d wear. I tore these notes up and flushed them down the toilet. Finally, practice came around, and then mother and Mimi picked me up for dinner. We ate at our favorite Japanese sushi restaurant.

As we were waiting to be served, Mimi excused herself to the restroom. Mother cleared her throat and said "I‘ve had a wonderful day with you yesterday, dear" patting me on the knee. "Thank you so much for letting me play dress up with you… and for letting me call you Evelyn… and for calling me mommy. It meant a lot to me, sweetheart. Maybe when I get back, we could more days like this. That is, if you don‘t mind."

"No mommy, I don‘t mind" was the only way I could reply.

"You‘ve made me so happy dear. And I think that you and Mimi are going to have such a nice time together; she‘s really looking forward to it. She told me she thought it was so cute and sweet that you wore those pajamas last night and that you didn‘t make a fuss about it."

The conversation ended when Mimi arrived back to the table. We were all hungry and dove into our food. We were in a bit of a rush and they had soon dropped me off at school.

Mother and Mimi arrived just before intermission; before I was to perform. I met them briefly in the lobby. She asked if I would be able to get a ride home — she needed to do some last minute packing and wanted to leave after I played. Ms. Hunter, my English teacher, was standing nearby. She was dressed in a black cowl neck sweater and a long burgundy skirt. She wore a wide leather belt around the sweater and a long gold chain necklace. She was made-up for the evening and looked fabulous. I looked around for her date, but didn‘t see any suspects.

"Excuse me" said Ms. Hunter, addressing mother. "I couldn‘t help overhearing. I‘d be delighted to give your son a ride home" she said, extending her hand to mother. Mother knew her, of course, but Ms. Hunter said out of courtesy "I‘m his English teacher and academic advisor, Nancy Hunter. It won‘t be a problem at all. I think your house is on my way home." Mother thanked her and accepted her offer. She then explained how she had last minute packing to do because she was going on a long trip; I guess she felt she needed to let Ms. Hunter know that she didn‘t normally ’bail out‘ on me and that this was a special circumstance. I wished mother hadn‘t told her about her trip and how I‘d be by myself for almost a month; I was trying to keep it secret from everyone. On the other hand, I was thrilled that Ms. Hunter was giving me a ride. All the other boys in my class would be jealous if they found out that I got a ride home with Ms. Hunter. It was at that point that Melanie appeared, looking very nice herself in a long silver gray tapestry pattern skirt and a black surplice wrap blouse with a side tie. After greeting her, mother introduced her to Ms. Hunter. The conversation was brief for it was time to be seated and I had to go.

My solo went off really well. Somehow, I was able to overcome my nervous energy and find that sensuous and lyrical frame of mind that made my playing so expansive and expressive. The realization that I was performing in front of the school while wearing pink silk panties and a soft girlish cashmere sweater helped me reach that elusive state.

After the concert, Ms. Hunter was waiting for me outside. She addressed me by my first name. Since she was my academic advisor and had access to all my records, she knew my first name was Evelyn and that it was an acceptable boy‘s name in years past. She was the one who made sure that my name wasn‘t on roll calls, knowing how much I‘d be teased by classmates. On the drive home, she told me how much she enjoyed my playing and that the only reason she had come that evening was to hear me play. "Evelyn" she said "you play with such exquisite sensitivity. I can almost feel every note. Please let me know whenever you have a recital — I so want to come to hear your beautiful playing."

I was deeply flattered. Knowing that she — this beautiful woman — liked my playing so much gave me chills. She changed topic, asking a few mundane questions, including questions about mother‘s trip. Then she said "Evelyn is such a beautiful name. I know you can‘t use it around school; everyone would tease you about having a girl‘s name. But I have to ask — did your mother expect to have a girl and named you that anyway, or is it an old family name?"

"An old family name" I lied.

"Well, then, perhaps after you graduate, you can start using it."

Mother was waiting for me. She was dressed in her mint green peignoir and robe. She gave me a big hug and told me how wonderful I was. She poured me a glass of nice wine. It was late; mother said I looked tired. I admitted it was.

"Well, off to bed with you then. I‘m still using the guestroom for packing, so I‘ll try to be extra quiet. I‘ll see you in the morning, dear."

We both went upstairs. Mother was carrying a basket of laundry, and followed me down the hallway as I went to my room. The guestroom door was closed, and I assumed she was going to pack some of the things in the laundry basket. I was dead tired — my anticipation, plus the wine, had worn me down. I undressed, throwing my things in the laundry hamper and putting on my gray pajamas and nightshirt. I played back Ms. Hunter‘s comments in my head.

Chapter Thirteen — Goodbye In Blue Silk

I woke fairly early and lay in bed thinking about the start of my holiday and the pleasures that were awaiting me. But I dwelled on the last few weeks, and especially the last few days. My own mother was encouraging me to crossdress — the soft and feminine sweaters and such she had bought me, the lotions and perfumed soaps in my bathroom, our movie nights with me in my silk charmeuse set, the moonglow blue sand-washed silk, and mother in her nightdresses. And, of course, the dressing she gave me two days before, then having a romantic dinner with her and Mimi while dressed most femininely in creamy rayon slacks and soft sweater, the only piece of boys clothing being my loafers. And then having me dress in the beautiful blue silk surah pajamas for our movie night,

Full of anticipation, I showered and donned my gray cotton pajamas and nightshirt, including the bikini panties and camisole beneath. I was becoming rather creamy — both because of my thoughts and of my abstinence.

My revelry was broken when mother knocked on my door. She was already dressed in a gray jersey wool suit with a pretty blouse made of a brown and black georgette lace streaked with gold threads and a ruffled portrait collar.

"Good morning!" she said cheerfully. "Why don‘t you come down and have a little breakfast with me?"

She waited for me in the hallway. I threw on the cotton robe and stepped out. The door to the guestroom was still closed, but I didn‘t think anything of it. We went downstairs together.

During breakfast, she said "You know, sweetie, before Mimi comes to pick me up in an hour or so, I was thinking that maybe we spend some time together — after all, I‘m going to be gone for a month."

"Uh, sure… What did you have in mind?" I asked with a little trepidation.

"Well… you know those blue pajamas you wore the other night? I never had a chance to really see you in them — you were all covered up in your new robe. Would you mind putting them on for me?"

"Okay, if you‘d like me too, mommy" I replied willingly. What a great way to start my holiday — dressed in the silk surah set at my mother‘s request.

"Oh thank you, Evelyn! You‘re so wonderful and special. Let me go get them — and then come to my room; the guest room is a bit of a mess…"

She disappeared upstairs rather quickly. A minute or two later, I heard her call "Evelyn?" from the top of the stairs.

"Coming, mommy" I called back.

She met me at the top of the stairs and we walked together to her room. Draped across the armchair in her room was the set — pajamas bottoms, tap panties, short chemise, matching short robe, the matching bikini panties, and the pantie girdle. She had taken the garter clasps off the pantie girdle and placed them on her nightstand.

"Why don‘t you slip into these, dear, while I finish some last minute things in the guestroom and take my bags down."

I offered to help her with her bags, but she refused, saying she could handle it easily.

Tingling all over, I undressed and almost breathlessly slipped into lovely blue silk and white Venise lace. I had barely finished dressing when mother knocked. I left the short robe untied for I knew mother would ask me to untie it anyway.

"Are you dressed, dear?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

She opened the door and, smiling broadly, came over and gave me a hug. "You look so nice dear. How do they feel?"

"Nice, mommy… the fabric is nice…" I mumbled.

"It‘s very fine silk, dear… the finest. It‘s meant to feel nice against your skin. Come and sit down at my dressing table and I‘ll brush out your hair."

As I sat, she told me, in a whispered voice, that I should let Mimi see me in the set. "After all, dear, she saw you the other night in them, and she was disappointed that you stayed wrapped up in your robe."

"Are you sure, mommy?" I asked in a whine, adding "I‘m not sure she should see me like this."

"I‘m sure dear. Just relax and don‘t worry about a thing, alright?"

She quietly brushed my hair then tied it back in a loose ponytail with a narrow foot-long length of white silk.

"Would you like to try on some of my jewelry? I think my lapis things would be so pretty with the set."

Soon she was helping me with her gold and lapis necklace, bracelet, and teardrop earrings.

"Oh… mommy… I don‘t know… aren‘t you going a bit overboard?" I asked quietly.

"Please, dear? It means a lot to me."

"Well… alright…" I whispered.

"Your skin and lips are really dry, dear; this dry weather is so bad for your skin" she said as an excuse to apply some moisturizing foundation and neutral lip gloss.

"I hope you‘ll be okay while we‘re gone, Evelyn. I guess I am a little concerned about what you‘ll be doing with your free time. I hope you‘re not planning on having any wild parties or anything like that."

"No mommy, nothing like that" I said a bit defensively.

"Oh, good; I didn‘t think you would. If you‘re bored dear, and need something to pass the time, well… there are all those things that Beverly has been sending me and, of course, there‘s the things in my closet."

"Oh… okay, mommy. I might do a little bit of… you know… if that‘s okay."

"Of course it‘s okay, dear. Please do."

I had goose bumps all over — mother was practically pleading with me to dress-up on my holiday.

She waited a moment then said "Can I bring out your eyes with a bit of mascara and powder? Just a bit?"

"Okay" I whispered.

She applied brush stroke or two of blue eyeshadow. Without asking, she used her big makeup brush to dust on a tad of blush.

"I sent in those pictures we took on Thursday. They should come back Tuesday or Wednesday, so watch for them. You can put them somewhere in my room, alright?"

We both heard a noise downstairs — Mimi letting herself in. "I think Mimi‘s here. Come along, darling, we‘ll have a little visit before we go."

I wrapped the robe around me, hoping to hide the lacey camisole. It really didn‘t matter -- the robe was profusely adorned with lace as well, so I wasn‘t hiding anything. But it did mostly hide the necklace. Mother gave me a pair of her white satin bedroom slippers to wear.

"Mommy? Are you sure about this? I mean letting Mimi see me like this?"

"Of course I am dear. Mimi said she really wanted to see you in the set. I think it‘s because she comes from a culture where it‘s fashionable for sophisticated and well-off boys to wear lace and fine things." She took my hand and squeezed it, saying "Come along dear. It‘s not like you‘re wearing a pretty dress and high heels like the other day — they‘re just pajamas.

I took a deep breath and sighed "okay…" I followed her down the staircase. Mimi was in the kitchen and mother led me to the living room couch without Mimi seeing me. Mother went to the kitchen and I heard her say to Mimi "…there‘s something I want you to see."

Mimi came into the room. She was dressed in a very nice black wool suit; an over-the-knee length skirt and a jacket, opened to reveal a white ribbed crew-neck sweater and a blue floral pattern chiffon scarf clasped with a gold scarf clip. She was wearing black pumps with a higher heel than she usually wore.

"Oh my goodness, Dahl" she said quietly. "Look at you. Such nice things… you‘re very lucky to have a mommy who likes having you wear such nice things."

They both sat down, mother next to me. Mimi left for a moment and came back with a pot of tea and cups, then sat on the chair facing us.

For the next ten minutes or so, mother stroked my hair, patted me on the knee, and gently rubbed my back as we chatted and drank tea. She drew back my hair to expose the earrings for a moment. She was coddling and cosseting and petting me and it was affecting me quite a bit. My robe loosened and the necklace was showing, and swung away from my neck when I reached out for my teacup. I had to reach and catch it, showing my bracelet, then adjust everything. I thought how I have looked; an effeminate sissy in lacy silk surah and satin slippers, wearing makeup and dangling earrings

"So, Dahl, are you going to miss your mommy?" Mimi asked.

"Of course" I replied, blushing at the use of ’mommy‘.

"Your mommy will certainly miss you, dear" added mother, picking up on Mimi‘s use of the affection. "Take good care of my precious while I‘m gone, will you Mimi?" she added.

"Oh, don‘t worry Ellen" replied Mimi. "I‘ll make sure that Dahl is well kept."

Mother‘s finger came to rest on the little buckle of my camisole strap and she let it dally there as she said "Make sure he gets plenty of rest, drinks his tea every afternoon and evening, takes his vitamins, and doesn‘t overexert himself — he‘s still not completely over his hepatitis." Of course I was completely cured and there was no need for mother‘s concerns, but I said nothing.

"Oh… and I think Dale wants to sleep in the guestroom while I‘m gone" she added.

Mimi smiled and said nothing.

"And you should take a nice nap there this afternoon, dear" added mother. "You got up early and I think you‘re still tired from yesterday."

It was time to leave. Mimi said she would return about noon the next day and would call beforehand. She had left me some stew in the refrigerator. Final goodbyes and hugs and kisses were made. I stood in the doorway, waving goodbye as they drove off.

I locked the door and let out a moan. Finally, the moment had arrived — the start of my holiday. I was so full of anticipation, so creamy. I knew that the creaming I would have in a few hours would be the best ever, and I wanted to build up to it nice and slow.

"Oh mommy…" I whispered, thinking of the morning and the last few days.

I decided I‘d go back to my mother‘s room and remove the pantie girdle and get properly made up. Then I‘d partake of a good bit of hashish and then enter the guestroom for a delightful, pleasure-filled morning and afternoon.

The first thing I did was to paint my finger and toe nails with mother‘s deep red polish. After my nails dried, I retrieved a daintie glove that I kept hidden away and went into mother‘s room. It felt good to get out of the pantie girdle and the daintie glove felt fabulous. No need soiling the beautiful panties.

Back in mother‘s room, I got properly made-up with mascara, dark eyeshadow, deep red lipstick and blush. Mother had a big blue chiffon hair bow which I fixed to my hair, taking off the white silk streamer. I slipped into a pair of her blue pumps, and then brought out my hashish stash.

Chapter Fourteen — Gifts In The Guestroom

I was really flying high. I minced and swished to the still closed guestroom door, the door to my boudoir where my mother said I‘d be spending my holiday and doing what my mother suggested — dressing up in ladies things.

I breathlessly entered the guestroom.

I gasped and let out a cry of delight — lying on the bed was the petal pink chiffon dress! The very one she had seen me admiring a few days before. It lay across the bed on a padded and scented satin clothes hanger.

Hanging on the dressing screen, also on padded satin hangers, was a set of daywear; camisole, pettislip, and dance panties. The camisole hung from hanger by its straps that were held in place by little faux pearl pins, and the pettislip and panties held by padded clasps attached to the hanger. They were muted lingerie pink with ivory Venetian point lace trim, with fancy ecru and gray embroidery, made with a delicious blend of silk, rayon, and micro-fiber. The label said ’Private Label Lingerie, New York‘.

Waves of emotions swept over me — my mother bought me the dress, the beautiful dress that she caught me admiring. There it was, draped across the guestroom bed — my boudoir - with a set of exquisite daywear hanging from the dressing screen, things she must have bought on her last trip to New York.

The bed dressing had changed as well. The bed cover was now a dusty rose, made of soft puckered cotton matelassé. The fitted corners had the most feminine effect; two wide blush pink satin ribbons ties, both tied in big bows. It took me a moment to see that the center of the bed cover had a large oval woven into it, and in the middle of this oval, monogrammed in large florid script, were my initials, ’EDF‘. There was a new pink satin balloon skirt around the bed as well. Two large bolster pillows that matched the bed cover now rested against the headboard; these too had an oval with my initials in the middle and a wide white lace hem. The sheets and other pillowcases were new as well — petal pink satin detailed with a picot trim of ecru and cream threads. Two cylindrical burgundy silk panne pillows with white eyelet lace and pink ribbons accents had been added to the bed clothing. Later, I found the original sheets and bed clothes had been neatly folded and placed in the linen closet of the guest bathroom.

Then my eyes wandered to the loveseat. There was an opened gift-box with pink tissue parted to reveal a mound of lilac chiffon and white Alencon lace. It contained a lilac peignoir and robe set, the peignoir with an empire-waist, tied with a wide, glimmering white duchess silk ribbon, the square-neck bodice all white lace, the graceful and fluid skirt a sheer lilac chiffon. The full length robe was of the same fluid lilac chiffon, with Alencon lace lapels and wide bands of lace at the sleeves. Then a pair of all-lace bikini panties, tied at the side with lilac ribbon, and a lilac chiffon dance pantie, also tied with lilac ribbon. The label on the box said it was from a boutique called "Isabella‘s" and the label said "Private Label Lingerie", the same as the daywear set.

But the delights didn‘t stop there — on one wingback chair was a rather large package from Auntie — it must have been delivered the day before, I guessed. The box was opened, but the contents were untouched. On top was a heart-shaped white satin boudoir pillow, decorated with a profusion of lace with silk flower petals and long ribbons of pink and blue pastels. Beneath it was a short chemise, antique white Chantilly lace over white silk charmeuse and a matching tap pantie, the same Chantilly lace over white silk charmeuse. Both items had blue piping, the chemise tied with a matching blue cord, as was the waist of the tap pantie. As I lifted these delights out of the box, there beneath it was a brassiere, garter belt, thong, and bikini of the same Chantilly lace and blue piping. It took me a moment to realize that they perfectly matched the robe and pajamas that Auntie had given me — the piping was exactly the same and they were the same label. Next, a two-piece; long two-tiered chiffon skirt, pink and red roses and lilac against an ivory background, with a matching asymmetric hem long bell sleeve tunic top and long matching chiffon scarf.

Beneath the dress was a risqué foundation set of pink satin and shimmering gray lace — a full-cup brassiere, a waist cincher, bikini panties, and tulip panties. And beneath that was a short robe to match. The labels said they were made by Diki. They would go well with both the daywear set hanging from the dressing screen and even the gray jacquard daywear set Auntie had sent earlier. Then beneath that was yet another foundation set! — White crepe de chine with white lace flecked with pink and blue — it matched the Jane Woolrich chemise and dance pantie that I was wearing at that moment. Then three delightful silk and lace tulip panties — white, pink, and baby blue. There were packages of real French heel silk stockings in blue, black, pink, and white; and pairs of opaque cotton and wool blend stockings in black, brown, and white. The final things were a bit of a surprise; two dozen damask handkerchiefs bundled with a pink ribbon, each identical, trimmed with fancy ecru Swiss lace. I had seen them for sale at the Gilded Lily. They were unusual because they were hexagonal rather than square, meant to be stuffed into a breast pocket. I couldn‘t figure why they were included in the package. Then a possibility came to me — they were meant as pantie napkins. I flashed back to the evening that Auntie and Suzanne had dressed me and how I cut apart a linen hand towel to use as a pantie napkin — perhaps they discovered the two halves and put two and two together, realizing that I had used it to protect my panties. Whatever the reason, the handkerchiefs were perfect for that purpose; the damask was thick and quilted and the hexagonal shape would form and fold easily around my daintie.

Neatly folded on the other wingback chair was a lightweight off-white ribbed turtleneck made of oh-so-soft angora, mohair, and merino wool blend. It was a true turtleneck in that the neck had to be rolled over itself. Unrolled, it reached to my eyes. Draped over the arm of the chair was a delicate open-weave sweater, the color soft dove gray, knitted of cloud-soft alpaca wool. The design was unusual — a surplice wrap, open to the waist, with full sleeves. At first, I thought it was a pullover, but realized that it was a true surplice wrap, with long lengths of yarn used to tie the waist. Draped over the back of the chair was a pair of wool jersey slacks, charcoal gray with white pinstripes. They had a front zipper, high waist, and full legs. On the floor at the foot of the chair was a pair of suede charcoal gray kitten-heel pumps, banded with thin decorative black satin.

I turned my attention from the box to the vanity. There was a crystal vase of fresh-cut roses, a crystal champagne flute with a pink and white lace ribbon tied around the stem, and a cut-glass perfume bottle with a tasseled squeeze bulb atomizer, filled with perfume. There was a new porcelain figurine by Santini of a lady at her dressing table putting on stockings. It was a rather erotic figurine.

In the middle of the vanity top was a pink chiffon hair bow with a cluster of ivory organza flowers in the middle of the bow and several descending thin ribbons streamers of pink and ivory — a perfect accessory to the pink dress. And in front of the bow were two black velveteen jewelry presentation boxes. I opened the larger one to reveal a fine three-strand pearl necklace, three-strand pearl bracelet, and drop earrings; several pearls suspended on a delicate gold chain. It was the set that mother and I admired together at the jewelry store where my ears were pierced. I knew how expensive this set was — almost three thousand dollars! The smaller box contained the antique silver filigreed hairclip from the same boutique. I went through the drawers of the vanity and found new items; bottles of pink and red nail polish, a bottle of nail polish remover, an opened bag of cotton balls, a couple of dozen triangular sponges, another gift box of makeup with powders in hues of pink and lilac, and a glossy book "Secrets of makeup". I noticed that in the refuse can next to the vanity were the plastic seals that fit the nail polish, the triangular sponges, and the gift box.

I opened the closet. The first thing I noticed was a dozen or so empty padded satin hangers, each with its own perfumed lace sachet hung from the hook. The cloth garment bags over the furs were now gone as well. There was a new knit sweater jacket; off-white, mid-thigh length, medium weight, with a shawl collar, hood, and a self-tie belt. The yarn material was synthetic — orlon and nylon — with flecks of tan, peach, and brown to give it a bit of a tweed effect. The overall effect was slightly androgynous. At the bottom of the closet was new pair of pink and cream two-toned pumps with a two-inch Sabrina heel, a pair of neutral ecru-colored patent leather oxfords with a high Cuban heel, very cute and feminine, a pair of blue velvet boudoir slippers with gold thread embroidery, and another pair of white satin stiletto-heeled boudoir slippers with a big puff of marabou on the instep. I put on the boudoir slippers. The shelf contained a clutch purse that matched the pink and cream pumps.

Titching with pure sensual delight, I opened the bureau drawer where the foundations were kept. The blue stockings, the ones with the run, were gone; they were replaced with a new package. There was also a pair of plain white cotton stockings. Then another set of foundations in shiny pewter gray satin; brassiere, a waspie style garter belt, and a pair of precious tulip panties. All three pieces were decorated with blue embroidery and trimmed with matching pewter gray cut lace. The set was made by Wacoal and would go perfectly with the silver gray Natori daywear. The thought occurred to me that mother must have realized I had worn her gray foundations soon after the Natori set arrived from Auntie, and decided that I needed my own set to wear with the daywear. Then I discovered the sachets that I used to provide padding beneath my brassieres. Looking further, I found a white satin bustier, the torso portion made of sturdy elastic fabric, the all lace breast cups were padded, with a low back and removable shoulder straps. The bottom had deep scallops to accommodate four wide satin suspenders.

But then I noticed something else. Peeping out from the pink chiffon dress was a pink envelope. I gently pulled it out from beneath the dress. I was addressed to "Evelyn" in my mother‘s handwriting. My fingers trembled as I sat down at the vanity and withdrew the letter inside.

My Dear Evelyn:

These things are for you, my dear. I want you to have them and to dress in them.

I know you probably don‘t understand the feelings you have about dressing up, but I think that I do. You have had to grow up without a father and with a mother who wished you were her daughter, a daughter with whom she could share her love of fine feminine dresses, soft furs, jewelry, and loungewear. Under these circumstances, how could you not have feminine desires, dear? You are such a delicate and precious boy and I watched with joy as you discovered your feminine side. And then when I finally had the courage to dress you the other day, I was delighted to see how perfectly beautiful you are, so pretty, and how you comported yourself with such feminine grace.

I hope that while I‘m away, you‘ll take the opportunity to dress in all these lovely things that I so enjoyed picking out for you these last few months, as well the things that your Auntie is sending to me. I hope that when I return, you have embraced your femininity and you and I can begin a wonderful relationship, going out together as mother and daughter, sharing experiences together.

You need to know that Mimi is aware of all this. She adores you and understands your feelings. She is very supportive and said that she‘d love to help you become comfortable dressing as a lady. If you want her to help and assist you all you have to do is ask her, or, if you‘re uncomfortable with that, dear, just dress in something soft and feminine as a sign you want her to help you. I do hope you‘ll let her help you.

Take care, my dearest. I‘m so looking forward seeing you when I return.

Love Always,

’Mommy‘

PS: I‘ll call you when I get to Europe, unless it‘s an emergency

I was just stunned. She (and Auntie, too) were lavishing me with expensive and exquisite things to dress in, absolutely spoiling me with stunning lingerie and dresses and sweaters and, oh yes, a very expensive set of pearls. And the way she had signed the letter ’Mommy‘ with quotes around it. And then there was the matter of Mimi. Was my nanny going to be dressing me?

I arranged all the mirrors just so, having turned the dressing screen so that its mirrors faced the bed, the ottoman in front.

What a tantalizing, sensuous morning and afternoon I had! I disrobed and applied the scented dusting powder and slipped into the Jane Woolrich chemise, dance pantie, and robe. I thumbed through the "Secrets of makeup" book for pointers, then applied pink nail polish to match the pink chiffon, then changed my makeup to softer hues suited to the pink chiffon. I swept my hair back and clasped it with the pink chiffon bow. I paused to heighten my senses again with the hashish. In the bathroom, I discovered new bottles of expensive aromatic bubble bath, lotion, and bars of perfumed soap. Completely and deeply into my feminine self, I donned the pink and gray lace foundations from Auntie and the delicate daywear set from mother and the pink and gray short robe from Auntie, titching the whole time. I almost swooned while drawing on the new pink silk stockings. Heels and my new set of pearls followed. Oh, what a rich little spoiled sissy! I paused in my dressing and wandered downstairs for a snack in my lingerie, robe, heels, and pearls to discover a champagne bottle in wine chiller that had a big pink and white lace ribbon bow on it, just like the champagne flute in the guestroom.

Back to my boudoir to finish my dressing, sipping on champagne, listening to romantic classical music, safe and secure and knowing that mother and Auntie and Mimi were giving me their approval. I almost fainted when I finished donning the pink chiffon dress. The mirror reflected a refined and coy young lady, all pretty in pink. "Oh mommy…" I moaned. "Oh Mimi… are you going to make me wear dresses?"

I tried to delay creaming as long as possible, but by mid-afternoon, my daintie was absolutely aching, all moist in her protective cashmere glove. I stood at my mirrors; my senses heightened by the hashish, a little tipsy on champagne, titching, whimpering, and saying my O‘s.

The thought struck me that my creamings purged me of the awful boy hormones that were welling up inside me. How perfectly natural, I thought. By purging myself of these despicable hormones, I would naturally become more feminine. And what better way to elicit a deep purging than by dressing up in fine lingerie, pretty designer dresses, flirty high-heels, expensive jewelry, scented dusting powders, expensive perfumes, fine accessories and decorations, and all made up, my hair coiffed? It all made perfect sense to me.

My cries reached a crescendo. I lifted the dress and pettislip to reveal the beautiful panties and moved my leg just so. As the precipice approached, I was crying out ’Oh Evelyn‘ and ’Oh mommy‘. Then my oh-so-stimulated daintie convulsed. The whole room seemed to contract and expand with each withering gush… Oh how I gushed! I collapsed on the bed.

Fortunately, only my bikini panties and dance panties were sullied — it would have been disastrous if my cream touched the exquisite chiffon of the dress.

That evening, I was dressed in the lilac chiffon peignoir and robe, the white fox stole around my shoulders. I had laid the mink throw on the bed with several of the silk brocade pillows. I had a long, slow, delicious cuddling on the pillows, kneeling over them, watching myself in the mirrors, my silk stocking‘d legs resting on mink, the chiffon puddling around me, my daintie wrapped in a silk scarf. But I had drunk too much champagne and wine…

To be continued…