The Awakening of Evelyn

by Evelyn D. Fairechild

 

Chapter Nine – The Sissy Librarian

 

Mimi picked me up from school on Monday came home with me. I scampered upstairs and slipped into foundations, stockings, camisole, and tap pantie and then my soft denim slacks. Several of my mother's sweaters in the bureau were androgynous enough for me to wear, and I chose a roomy off-white fisherman knit crew neck sweater in merino wool. I came downstairs and did my homework, getting ahead of the class. Mimi didn't stay too long.

On Tuesday, I picked up the mail as I came home from school as usual. It contained an envelope from Auntie addressed to me. After going upstairs and dressing as I had the day before, I opened the envelope. Inside were an unlabeled CD and a note:

 

My dearest Evelyn:

I know you said you didn't want these, but Suzanne and I came across these the other day and thought you might have changed your mind. I'd love to talk to you about these sometime, but both Suzanne and I are up north at a retreat and can't be reached. I'll call you next week.

Much love,

Aunt Beverley

PS: You are so cute and lovely in these pictures!

 

The CD contained the pictures they took of me in the Susan Lane bridal gown. I sat down at my computer and browsed through them, feeling flushed as I viewed the pretty girl looking into the camera lens. Could that possibly be me?

On Wednesday, I wore panties to school, beneath my boring white boy underwear. (Our school's bathroom toilets had lockable doors, so I could avoid being seen when I had to use the toilet.) It drove me to distraction to sit in class thinking about the panties and the long weekend coming up. In fact, my English teacher, Ms. Hunter, asked me after class if I was OK because I seemed "pensive".

I was supposed to work that afternoon for a few hours. Mimi picked me up and came home with me to fix me lunch. I had an hour or so to kill before going to work. I told Mimi that I wanted to change into different clothes, for it was cold and damp at the library. On a lark, I dressed in a pair of soft denim slacks, a baby blue V-neck cable-knit lambswool and angora sweater of my mother's that I found in the bureau drawer, and then a blue and white patterned flannel shirt. The sweater was hidden by the flannel shirt. Underneath, I wore the blue Papillion foundations, brassiere, camisole, tap pantie, and blue silk stockings. The flannel shirt hid the brassiere well – there were no telltale bumps. In my school backpack, I put the sachets I was using to pad my brassieres, some cheek blush and lip gloss, a hair brush, a pretty silk scarf in matching hues of blue, a gold necklace and small hoop earrings and, at the last moment, a pair of blue stiletto heeled pumps from my mother's closet.

Mimi dropped me off at the library around two o'clock and would come back at five thirty to take me home for dinner. She was going to do a bit of grocery shopping for me and fix a pot roast. After greeting Cynthia, I went upstairs with the cart of books to shelve. As usual, there was no one upstairs. I finished shelving on the second floor and headed up to the third floor. Hardly anyone came up to the third floor, and if they did, I could easily hear them coming. I usually would work on homework after I was done shelving, but not today. I slipped into the bathroom with my backpack and did a little transforming. I removed my flannel shirt, padded my brassiere, put on the jewelry and scarf, slipped into the heels, applied makeup, and brushed out my hair. I stepped out of the bathroom and traipsed about the library, clicking on my heels, the sissy librarian. I spent a half hour or so dressed out before heading back to the bathroom to change before leaving.

Mimi picked me up and we went home for dinner. I feigned a sore throat and somehow convinced her that I should probably just skip school the next day and that I could easily take care of myself – I just needed rest and I was all caught up on homework and I just had some reading to do. The fact that I was a good student made the decision easy, as did the fact that she didn't need to spend the night. "Well alright, Doll dear…" (She never could say my name correctly – it always came out sounding like 'doll') "…you should not overexert yourself or you'll become sick again. I should probably check on you in the morning, OK? I'll come by around nine."

Mimi encourages me

I had a wonderful evening and for the first time, I spent the night in the guest room. Until that point, I hadn't slept in the bed, not wanting to untidy it and have to make it up afterwards – I knew I wouldn't do a good job and mother or Mimi would know that I'd slept in it. But I made up a good story – I would 'accidentally' spill a big glass of water or ginger ale on my bed and, because I was feeling ill and didn't want to deal with it, I just went to the guest room to sleep.

I awoke Thursday morning, too close to the time when Mimi said she would arrive. I went to my room and poured a big glass of ginger ale all over the bed. I had slept in the lilac peignoir and robe and dance panties. I removed them and carefully put them back in their box, then covered it up with the chenille throw. I had removed most of my makeup before going to bed so as not to get any on the pillowcases or sheets, but I washed my face again just to be careful. I hung the pink chiffon dress and pink daywear set in the closet. For all practical purposes, it looked as if I had gone into the guest room, hung the dress and daywear in the closet, put the chenille throw on the loveseat, and crawled into bed. I had decided the previous evening, as I sat primping at my vanity, that I would wear my silk charmeuse pajamas and robe when Mimi came over. After all, they were mine, even if they were rather effeminate, and I had made a promise to myself that I would spend the weekend in nothing but ladies things, and this was the safest things I had. Besides, mother had probably told Mimi about them. So I donned the matching foundations, chemise, and tap pantie, along with white silk stockings, and then slipped into my pajamas and robe. The pajama bottoms went over the chemise, and the pajama top covered the rest. I had just finished tying my robe when Mimi was at the foot of the stairs calling for me. I slipped into my own tan suede bedroom slippers, which was enough to hide the white stockings.

After asking how I felt ("just OK" was my reply), she remarked "What lovely pajamas, Doll dear". I told her they were a gift from my Auntie and I liked them because they were very comfortable. "They are very nice – you and your mother have the nicest things, Doll. I'm sure you like wearing them."

I then told her the story – I had spent a feverish night, I had spilled a huge glass of ginger ale all over my bed and spent the night in the guest room. I hinted that I was concerned about the guest room sheets as I my fever had caused me to sweat.

To my satisfaction, she suggested that first, I get out of my pajamas and robe and let her wash and iron them. After all, I had spent a feverish night in them. So I went upstairs and changed into soft denim over the foundations, chemise, and tap pantie. For the sweater, I got daring and retrieved the fawn silk and cashmere sweater with white trim from the box from Auntie. The brassiere was without wires or padding, so it didn't show underneath the sweater. I came back downstairs carrying my robe and pajamas. She had made me breakfast and I sat down to eat. She gave me a pat on the head and took the pajamas and robe to the laundry room. "I'll wash these in a lingerie bag, and then let them drip dry. I don't think these should go in the dryer." I blushed when she said lingerie bag, but I knew what she meant – they did need to be washed in that way. After the washer started, she announced she would go upstairs to get my sheets and change the guest room sheets – "I've been meaning to wash those for a while". This I didn't expect, but was unconcerned. I even offered that there might be some sheets on the night stand.

She was upstairs for a long time. I was curled up on the couch, reading, when she finally came downstairs carrying my bed sheets and the ones from the guest room. I could see that she had the box that Auntie had sent, and that it was empty, for she was carrying the sheets in it. My heart skipped a beat – she had been through the box! If she taken the things out, she probably put them away, which meant I had an excuse for mother for why the box was empty if she asked – Mimi emptied it. This was all working to my favor.

"Your bed is still very wet, Doll, so you should spend the night in the guest room. Maybe tomorrow night too – we'll see. It's very nice and pleasing in the guest room, isn't it? A good place for you to rest comfortably. I'll wash these sheets tomorrow, and iron your lovely pajamas and robe, too. But I have to get going, and I think you need to go back to bed. You look so very tired. Perhaps you should take a nice long bath before you take a nap. Oh – and I found some other nice pajamas for you in the closet – you can wear those today. Give me a few more minutes and I'll leave and give you some peace and quiet."

What? Pajamas in the closet? The only pajamas there were the blue silk panne set! But I couldn't let on that I knew about them, could I? It would give away that I had been in the closet. But for some reason, I decided to ask her anyway.

"But Mimi – are you talking about the blue pajamas? But those are for ladies" I said, a little too much lisp and whine in my voice.

"Oh, nonsense dear. It doesn't matter. They are very nice and you like wearing nice things, just like your mother." She was now behind me and she stroked my hair as she said this. I was used to her patting my head and occasionally stroking my hair when I needed to be comforted, but this seemed to have a bit more meaning than an absent-minded patting or stroking. I put my hand over the V-neck of the sweater, for I realized that she could probably see my underthings. She lifted her hand and said in just a bit of a feigned huff "Besides, you're not feeling well and I want you to feel comfy, yes?"

After she left, promising to call me around dinnertime, I ascended the staircase to the guest room, removing my jeans before entering (my unwritten rule – no wearing boy's clothes in the guest room if possible). As expected, the bed was now clothed in pink satin sheets and Mimi had thoughtfully turned it down. And sure enough, there on the bed were the silk panne satin pajama bottoms, camisole, dance pantie, and jacket. The chenille throw was folded carefully at the bottom of the bed, and the boudoir pillow from Auntie was placed between the satin-covered bed pillows. The lilac robe and peignoir were hanging from padded satin hangers on the outside of the closet door, not hidden in the closet, but enticingly in full view.

In the closet, things from Aunties box were hung, all on padded satin hangers – the two piece floral chiffon, the pink with gray lace short robe that went with the foundations, right next to the daywear set from mother. Everything was carefully placed, lingerie on the left, dresses on the right.

In the bureau, Mimi had filled a drawer with all the foundations. Right in the middle was the blue foundations, the brassiere neatly folded and placed over the garter belt, the blue silk stockings neatly folded and placed beneath and on top of the panties. All the other foundations were similarly folded and arranged.

I did the only thing I could – I bathed as Mimi had suggested. But I didn't wear the blue set until much later that evening, for I had a full day of dressing up in lovely lingerie and dresses ahead of me.

When Mimi called later that afternoon, I assured her everything was OK and that I was going to bed soon. She didn't mention anything about the pajamas.

Before going to bed, I made sure everything was put away, except for the blue pajamas, camisole, dance panties, and robe, which I wore to bed, just as Mimi had wanted me to, adding bikini panties. The problem I had was with the chemise, tap pantie, foundations, and stockings that matched my robe. I had worn them beneath my jeans and sweater while Mimi was putting things away, but if I now put them away in my boudoir, she'd wonder how they appeared and might even realize that I was wearing them. The same was true for the sweater – it would have to be hung in the closet.

I had difficultly falling asleep, wondering what I should do about showing myself in the blue silk panne loungewear and what to do about the lingerie that matched my pajamas and robe It was such details that both caused anxiety and stimulation. I went to sleep determined to wear the blue silk in the morning and just put the other lingerie and the sweater in the closet and drawer.

I overslept on Friday, and woke up to Mimi calling me from downstairs. I got out of bed, put on the robe and tied it, slipped into the velvet boudoir slippers, and went downstairs. And so Mimi was the third person to see me cross-dressed. Auntie and Suzanne were first.

"Oh – you wore the nice things I put out. Thank you, Doll. You look very nice" she said with a genuine smile on her face.

At breakfast, she made me admit that the pajamas were nice to wear. "So what if they're ladies things, as you say. That doesn't mean you can't wear them. They feel nice and that's what's important, Doll" she said kindly. "It's so sad that boys don't get to wear such nice things. It's nice to feel pretty. So you're very lucky, dear, to have such nice things, and you should enjoy them."

Mimi lays out my bed things

After Mimi ironed my robe and pajamas, she went upstairs. I curled up on the couch, thumbing through a new clothing catalog that came for mother. She was upstairs for a while. I wondered what she'd think when she saw the foundations that matched my robe set in the lingerie drawer, and the chemise and tap panties and the sweater in the closet. By the time she came downstairs, I was half-asleep, and my robe had opened to reveal the camisole. She came over to me and gently stroked my hair, telling me that she was leaving, telling me that I should go back to bed. "I hope you don't mind, but I laid some things out for you" were her last words before leaving.

I went to my room, smoked some hashish, and entered my boudoir, so very high. The lilac peignoir and robe were still hanging on the closet door. I found my robe on the bed but not the pajamas, which I later found in the closet. When I parted the robe, there was the matching chemise and tap pantie on their padded hanger. I opened the bureau drawer and found the matching brassiere, garter belt, bikini panties, thong, and white silk stockings neatly folded in the middle, where the blue foundations had been yesterday.

What a delicious game we were playing!

I spent the afternoon trying on just about everything, and ended the afternoon wearing the white chiffon two-piece with the Jane Woolrich foundations, chemise, and dance pantie. The long chiffon scarf was around my neck, as were my pearls, and I wore a pair of my mother's white stiletto heeled sandals. My nails were painted pink. I had come downstairs to our formal living room where there was a big mirror over the couch and in the soft afternoon light, I found my panties around my ankles, the pink polished fingers of one hand holding the skirt while the polished fingers of my other hand brought me to a climax as I cried out loudly "Oh, Evelyn, just look at you!"

The next morning, Saturday, I was wearing the things Mimi had left on the bed for me, in addition to the matching foundations and white silk stockings. I had woken early enough to get ready for her. I put on the pajamas over the tap panties to cover the stockings and garters but leaving the chemise on the outside of the pajamas, tied the robe around me, and slipped into the velvet boudoir slippers. I brushed out my hair and put on a pair of my mother's earrings – small gold hoops with a single pearl. I took out the scented sachets from my brassiere and put them in the pockets of my robe. I used a two-foot length of white satin ribbon to tie my hair back in a ponytail, leaving enough loose hair to cover my earrings. Then I attended to my face, for over the last few days, it was getting harder to remove the trace of makeup, especially mascara. Rather than try to remove it all, I tried to neutralize it with flesh-toned eyeshadow and blush powder. I sort of lost track of what I was doing and ended up glossing my lips and applying a bit of cheek blush. I put the lipstick tube and some eyeshadow in the pocket of my robe. As I waited for Mimi's arrival, checking myself out in the mirror, I became all creamy and dreamy, where my dantie was in a stimulated limbo state and small amounts of my cream had started to emerge, and my eyes had that dreamy take-me-to-bed look. I heard Mimi arrive and I had a few minutes to gather myself, and then headed downstairs, the sissy of the house greeting his nanny. Mimi was preparing my breakfast. Out of her sight, I took the sachets out of my robe pockets (they were causing a bit of a bulge) and hid them under a throw pillow on the couch. I noticed that I hadn't quite removed all of the nail polish and that there was a definite pink rim around my nails.

"Good morning, dear" she said gaily as I sat down, "I see you found your robe I put out for you". She didn't mention anything about the chemise and dance pantie she had left out. After she served me breakfast, she said "Let me go upstairs make up your room".

"Oh no" I thought as she ascended the staircase. She'd open the bureau drawer and find that the foundations I was currently wearing were missing. She'd put two and two together and know that I had to be wearing them. I should have thought of that, but I was too busy primping. So I went to lounge on the couch, anxious about what she might say. Again, she took her time upstairs. I thumbed through the catalogs again, went to use the downstairs bathroom, got caught up in my dressing, applied a bit more makeup, came back to lounge on the couch, my robe partway open, revealing the chemise, the silk stockings showing beneath the pajama hems. I had to look like such a sissy. But what else did I think I'd look like?

By the time she came back downstairs, I was half-asleep again. I was still feigning sickness, and since I wasn't getting enough sleep, I guess I did look the part. I saw that she was carrying the cut flowers from the vase – it was time for them to be thrown out. She came over to the couch and gave me a gentle pat on the head, and told me she had to be leaving to meet a friend for brunch.

"I want you to spend another night in the guest room for me. You look tired and I think you should go back to bed after I leave, perhaps take a nice bath first. Do you think you'll be able to go to school on Monday?"

"I'm not sure, Mimi" I replied, suddenly enticed by one more day in my boudoir, "maybe".

"Well, we'll see tomorrow. I left some things out for you to choose from to wear this afternoon and tonight" she said.

"Oh – thank you Mimi. That was very nice of you" I replied softly, wondering excitedly what things she had chosen.

"No problem, dear, I enjoy putting things out for you." She paused briefly and gave my hair another gentle stroke. "They are all ladies' things, because I know you like to wear ladies' things."

This bombshell left me speechless. Then she dropped another.

"I'll come by tomorrow after church and we'll have lunch together. I wouldn't bother me if…" she paused, giving my hair another stroke "…if you wanted to wear a nice dress for lunch." She gave me a kiss on the forehead and left.

I sat for long moments. I retrieved the sachets and stuffed them in my brassiere, then rose from the couch and went to our formal living room in the front of the house where I removed the pajama bottoms and stood in front of the large mirror hanging over the couch, and just looked at myself for a while, thinking about what Mimi had just said. The velvet curtains were open, leaving the white organza to soften the light. It was then I saw the mailman drive up. He came up the walk carrying a box and rang the doorbell, which gave me a start, even though I was expecting it. I stood at the window, my robe open revealing my chemise and tap pantie and stockings, watching his back as he strode back to his truck. As he turned to get in the truck, I was sure he caught a glimpse of me through the organza. After he left, I tied the robe around me and opened the front door to retrieve the box. It was from Auntie. It was addressed to "E. Fairechild" rather than mother in particular. Since both mother and I had the same initial, the package could be for me or her. I was sure it contained clothing. I used a knife to remove the tape, but didn't open the box. Rather, I poured some sherry, smoked some hashish, touched up my makeup, and entered my boudoir with the box.

I gasped as I entered my boudoir. On the bed was the lilac peignoir and robe with the matching bikini panties and dance pantie. The St. John's knit with the pink silk and cashmere top and coordinating scarf were draped on the back of the wingback chair so that the skirt fell across the seat cushion. Draped across one arm of the chair was the pink daywear set from mother. On top of these, over the seat, were the pink with gray lace foundations with pink silk stockings. Tucked in the corner of the chair was the pink and gray clutch purse, while at the foot of the chair were the matching two-toned pumps. On top of it all was the jewelry case, opened to reveal the beautiful pearls. Mimi couldn't have made it clearer – this would be the ensemble I'd greet her in tomorrow when she came for lunch. On the closet door, she had hung the pink chiffon dress. Perhaps the second choice? The short robe that matched the pink and gray lace foundations as draped on the back of the slipper chair. Of course – I would put on the foundations and then sit at the vanity, put on the short robe, and do my makeup

The cut flowers on the vanity had been replaced with a half-dozen pink roses. She must have brought them with her – I hadn't noticed.

Sitting at the vanity, I opened the box from Auntie and let out a cry. It contained a calf-length black velvet wrap dress. One inch black satin trimmed the wrap of the bodice and the cuffs of the full length sleeves. Where the wrap closed, there was a big black satin bow with a long black satin sash descending to the hem. A rhinestone buckle was fitted to the middle of the bow. "Oh my... Oh, Auntie…" I whispered to myself. I lifted the dress and laid it on the other wingback chair, just titching as I did so. Next, a black negligee made of a shimmering black jacquard material with white Rosaline lace embroidery. It had a plunging back with delicate crisscrossed straps and a matching bed jacket. These were followed by a backless and strapless brassiere, the front covering to my midriff with a closure in the back, made of black satin with profuse white embroidery. A matching waspie followed. I could see that the waspie and brassiere would slightly overlap each other to make it appear as almost one garment. The set finished with a matching bikini. A black all-lace tap pant followed. Beneath these treasures was two pair of black seamed stockings with lace tops, one pair with a black embroidered rose trellis design running up the side from toe to thigh. A jewelry box contained a rhinestone set with black onyx stones – necklace, earrings, bracelet, and ankle bracelet. Then a black velvet choker with a black and white cameo of a young lady's profile and a big rhinestone hair barrette. Then black velvet open-toed pumps with a diagonal stripe of black satin and a matching clutch purse. A complete ensemble for her favorite sissy nephew.

I showered and washed my hair and rolled it up in a towel to dry. I powdered and slipped into my robe and did my nails with deep red polish. When the polish dried, I used some of my mother's hair mousse and her heated hair curlers to set my hair in profuse curls then wrapped a fresh towel around my done-up hair. Into the lilac peignoir and robe and panties – after all, that's what Mimi laid out for me. I was tired – I had stayed up late reading the make-up book and taking a long pillow ride. So, I decided to take a nap. What a lovely nap with lovely dreams. I slept for a couple of hours and woke in the early afternoon, refreshed and ready for a long luscious dressing. After a light lunch of little sandwiches that Mimi had thoughtfully left me, it was time to dress up in the elegant evening ensemble that an Auntie had sent her nephew.

It was the most luscious, delicious, sensual dressings I had. As the making up and dressing slowly progressed, I avoided the mirrors more and more. I was titching throughout and several times I had to pause lest I cream. The last full view I had was of me in the negligee, pumps, and rhinestones, and I quickly tore myself away from the mirror. I donned the dress without the benefit of a mirror and then partook of too much hashish. As the hashish rush came onto me, I took the purse in one hand and presented myself to the mirror.

"Oh Evelyn" I whispered, "Oh my, just look at you. Oh my." The ensemble was just so elegant, so dramatic and vivid, so very everything. The rhinestones sparkled, even in the soft afternoon glow. I was dressed for a dinner date at a fancy restaurant. I don't know how long I stood there, just titching and saying my O's, my precious throbbing in her pantie napkin. Ever so slowly, I sat down on the loveseat, facing the mirror, palms down on the seat, my ankles crossed. I straightened my back and crossed my legs seductively, exposing the white embroidery of the negligee beneath. I uncrossed my legs and squeezed my thighs together, and with a joyful cry, felt the shuddering orgasm rend my entire being and take me heights of ecstasy.

Not too long after, I was gliding around the house in the black negligee and jacket and rhinestones. I creamed again that evening, while wearing the black negligee.

A drive in the country

On Sunday morning, on pins and needles, I dressed for Mimi's arrival in the St. John's and the pink daywear set. My biggest issue was whether to pad my brassiere and I decided against it. For my hair, I found a hair barrette decorated with organza and tulle flowers in shades of pink and ivory that matched the ensemble. I had just finished dressing and was doing my final primping when the doorbell rang, my heart skipped a beat. She used her key to unlock the door, and was calling my name from the bottom of the stairs. She had brought us lunch and we would eat in the dining room. Was I coming down? "Come on down, Doll dear. Let me see you."

Trembling, I descended the staircase as gracefully as I could. She was waiting at the bottom. She was tastefully dressed for church in a nice blue patchwork dress and blue felt hat.

"Oh goodness, dear, I was hoping you'd wear that. That's why I left it out. You look absolutely adorable. I've got us lunch from that Japanese restaurant. We'll eat in the dining room, OK?" Her tone put me at ease. No recriminations, no judgments (other than I was pretty), just come and let's eat lunch.

She had brought lunch boxes from the Japanese restaurant, black lacquered trays containing sushi, chicken, rice, salad, and soup. We sat down opposite each other. She brought us ice water in our crystal stemware.

As we ate, I summoned the courage to ask her if my mother knew about my cross-dressing. I knew the answer would be yes, but I wanted to know how my mother felt about it.

"Yes, she knows, sweetheart. She told me a couple of years ago that you were going through her things. We talked about it, and we thought it was probably just a phase. She brought it up a couple more times and said she was sure you were dressing up in her things. And do you know what? She seemed happy about it. She told me that she wasn't surprised given that your real father died at such an early age, and that maybe this was a way that you and her could connect. And you know that blue and black gown in the closet? I remember the day she bought it and she told me she was going to leave it out for you."

"Does my stepfather know?"

"That pig? Hell no. All he cares about is making deals and gobs of money. He doesn't care about you or your mother. Just promise me one thing, dear. If he ever leaves your mother, you go after his money." It was one of the few times I heard her curse or talk disparagingly about anyone.

"Does my Auntie know?"

"I don't know, but given all the lovely things she's been sending, I suspect yes."

"I guess I'm going to have to tell mother, then."

"Well, yes. She'll understand."

"I hope you're right. I… I feel so ashamed sometimes."

"Don't ever feel ashamed for who and what you are. There's nothing wrong with wanting to wear nice things. Why shouldn't you be able to wear nice pretty things? I mean, girls these days dress like boys – it's horrible. That's certainly not the way I was taught. Like your mother, we were taught as girls to dress nicely."

After lunch, she asked me "Doll, dear, I have to go pick up some serving platters from a lady that goes to my church. She lives about twenty minutes from here, out in the country. Why don't you ride along with me? You need to get out of the house and get some air, dear."

I was terrified – I couldn't possibly go out like this! Mimi sensed this immediately and said "Don't worry about being seen, Doll. You'll be in my car, not your mother's. We'll be on the back roads and I'm a careful driver. I'm only dropping these off. You won't have to meet her – you can stay in the car. Come on, it'll do you good."

I acquiesced. My terror gave way to excitement. Yes, I could do this. Before leaving, Mimi discretely asked me if I had anything to "add a little padding up there, just to be complete."

So I went upstairs, used the toilet (my nerves were getting to me), reveling in the lovely daywear and foundations and stockings I was wearing. Before coming back down, I put the sachets in my brassiere, and again descended the staircase as gracefully as I could, and trembling.

"Oh, much better. Now come, she's expecting me."

Carrying my purse, wobbly on my heels, my heart pounding, we went to her car, a nice German sedan. Into the passenger's seat, carefully holding my skirt, I managed to get situated without tugging my skirt. I slouched down in the seat as Mimi started the car and we drove off. When we were a mile from the house, she patted me on the knee and said with a giggle "You can sit up now, dear".

I started to relax and enjoy the ride. It was nice to get out into the fresh air. The route she was taking was unfamiliar, so I could entertain myself a little by taking in unfamiliar sites. We struck up a conversation. I told her about the ensemble that Auntie had sent.

"I'm sure your Auntie means those things for you" she said. "Perhaps tomorrow I'll come by early for dinner and you can wear it for me. I can't stay for dinner tonight – I have a church function to go to. But tomorrow, OK? You're staying home from school, but you need to go back on Tuesday."

I thanked her for taking care of the guest room and everything else. She told me again how she liked laying out things for me. I asked her if it would be alright to stay in the guest room for the rest of the week.

"Sure, why not?" was her reply. "Your mother comes back when? A week from Tuesday, right? Well, we can get everything back in order before she comes back. But you're going to have to talk to her, dear. If you don't, I will."

As promised, the pickup of the serving platters only took a minute. Mimi left the car running. The lady glanced over towards me and I could see Mimi telling her something about me. When she came back to the car, she told me that I was the daughter of a friend of hers.

We drove back by a different route. I could see that the route would take us through town, and I protested.

"It's shorter dear. Nobody is going to recognize you."

As we drove through town, we hit a red light. On the sidewalk were a couple of classmates. They didn't see me. At another red light, though, I looked over at the car beside us and recognized my English teacher, Ms. Hunter. She was looking at me with a hint of recognition in her face. I immediately turned towards Mimi and told her "That's my English teacher. I think she recognized me!" My voice was trembling and I'm sure my face turned white.

"Nonsense dear. See – she's already turned away. Don't worry, we'll lose her momentarily."

We drove by 'An Affair to Remember', the shop where mother bought me the pink chiffon. It was no longer in the window – it was hanging on my boudoir door!

We arrived home and once inside, I was exhilarated – I had done it! I had gone out as a girl! Not just as a girl, but as a girl in a very elegant ensemble, all made up, wearing very fine lingerie, expensive pearls, and high heels.

"See dear, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" asked Mimi. I had to reply that it wasn't. We both agreed that there was no way Ms. Hunter could have recognized me.

"Before I go, dear, could you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Oh, of course, Mimi."

"Would you mind dressing in that pink chiffon dress and showing me?"

Twenty minutes later, I descended the staircase again, all pretty in pink chiffon.

"Oh, that is such a pretty dress. You are so lucky to have such a pretty dress. I'd have loved to have a dress like that when I was young."

After a few minutes of modeling it for her, she said "Now, before I go, I suppose I should make up your room. I'm sure you're tired and you probably need to take a nap. Why don't you go upstairs and put on that pretty robe and peignoir I put out for you and then come back down while I make up your room. I'll put your things away and lay out that black velvet from your Auntie and maybe a few other things, too."

I undressed from the pink chiffon and all the daywear and foundations and put them on the wingback chair, knowing that Mimi would probably put them away for me. I donned the Jane Woolrich brassiere and garter belt with white silk stockings, and then into the bikini and dance pantie, peignoir and robe. I closed the robe around me to see if the garter belt was visible – I didn't want to embarrass Mimi by showing my garter belt. It was sufficiently hidden, as long as the robe was closed. I was still wearing the pearls and the pink chiffon hair bow when I slipped on the boudoir slippers and came downstairs.

"That's such a lovely bed set, Doll, you must feel so pretty in it. You must love it – it must be like sleeping on cloud."

She handed me a glass of wine and told me to wait downstairs while she made my room. Thankfully, she didn't ask me to open the robe, or she would have seen my garters.

And so I waited, sipping wine in the formal living room, stealing glances of myself in the mirror above the couch, concentrating on not letting my dantie get all stimulated.

After a half-hour, Mimi appeared. I was sitting on the couch in the formal living room. She came over to me, touched my hair and said "All done, dear. I've got to get going now. I hope you've had a nice day."

I rose, careful of my robe and gave her a gentle hug. "Oh, Mimi, it was wonderful. You're the nicest and most loving person I know." She gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Now you go and get your rest dear. I'll see you tomorrow about four o'clock. We'll have dinner together. I laid out that black velvet ensemble from your Auntie. It's very lovely. Now don't worry about a thing. When your mother returns, I won't tell her about today, unless you don't talk to her about how you like to dress up as a lady."

And with that, she was gone, leaving me alone to pour another glass of wine, smoke some hashish, and see what delights awaited for me in the guest room.

Dinner in Black Velvet

The curtains were closed and the lamps lit to give the room a soft romantic glow. She had even turned on the radio to the classical music station. On one wingback chair was the black velvet dress, the purse, and the open jewelry case of rhinestones. At the foot of the chair were the heels. She had left a note on nice stationary – I guess she must have gotten it from mother's room as she kept some in her dressing table – "Dinner tomorrow at four". The other wingback chair displayed the lingerie I'd wear – the negligee, the foundations, black silk stockings, and the bed jacket. Another note – "Such lovely things. Your mother will be jealous."

The blue Papillion negligee, robe, foundations, and stockings were draped across the loveseat with the gold and lapis jewelry, which I had left on the vanity. The St. John's knit and silk and cashmere top were hanging from the closet door – a reminder of how I was dressed that afternoon.

I sat at the vanity and wrapped my daintie with angora and linen. She was so very stimulated and I had to be extra careful with her lest she burst. I stood at the cheval mirror, the events of the day going through my mind. I thought about Mimi and just how wonderful she was, and about how I was going to have to tell mother, and how exhilarating it was to go out as a lady. I seductively opened my robe, titching. The moment was near as I lifted the peignoir to expose my panties. The last thought I had before the uncontrollable orgasm swept over me was "Ms. Hunter recognized me!"

I awoke sometime later and dressed in the blue Papillion set and lapis jewelry, and after a light meal, spent most of the evening in bed with the pillows, prolonging the inevitable creaming, making the pleasure last as I could, my thoughts back on the day and my first excursion as a lady, the house empty and still, my little cries of delight the only sounds, a rich and spoiled cross-dressing sissy dressed in exquisite lingerie. I was glad that our house was in a secluded wealthy suburb, far from neighbors, for my cries became shrill and piercing as the evening wore on and I attained a toe-tingling climax.

The next morning, Monday, was spent preparing for the evening. Mimi called me about ten o'clock to tell me she had notified the school about my absence and that she wanted me to set the table for four. I expressed my surprise and concern and she said "Don't worry dear, it's just going to be the two of use, but there's a reason. You see, I'm having our dinner delivered around five o'clock by Antonio's, and for reasons I'll explain later, they're bringing dinner for four. You'll just have some nice leftovers".

I dressed in the two piece chiffon and scarf and set the dining room table with our best china, adding candlesticks. I even ventured out to our patio – all dressed – to cut some flowers for the table. There was nothing romantic about having dinner with Mimi – I didn't think of her in that way at all – she was my nanny, offering succor, and I just wanted dinner to be nice with an elegant setting.

I took hours to dress in the black velvet, setting my hair as I had done before, and was perfectly coiffed, groomed, and dressed when Mimi arrived at four o'clock.

She was dressed in a very nice jade green cocktail dress, perfect for her age and figure. When she saw me, she let out a soft whistle. "Just look at you, dear… do you have any idea how elegant you look?" She then told me how the evening would proceed. The restaurant would deliver dinner at five o'clock. A waitress from the restaurant, a college-age girl, Ashley, that she knew, would be making the delivery and would have to come inside and do a bit of preparation and give instructions on how to serve the meal (shrimp scampi and a special pasta). She had been told it was for a special dinner, so she wouldn't be surprised at fancy dress, and that it was at a friend's house. I would be introduced as her friend's daughter. I was horrified – "I can't possibly do this" I told her. "Nonsense, dear" she replied "you just need to let your femininity come out and you'll be fine. Here, let's practice. I'll be greeting her at the door and I think you should be coming down the staircase as I do so. Just come on over, smile sweetly like I know you can, and shake her hand gently, like this…" and she demonstrated. "… and I'll introduce you. Just speak softly. I'll go to the kitchen with her and you can sit out here and look pretty. Oh – I know – you can set the table – we'll just unset it for now, stack the dishes and such." We practiced several times. Mimi suggested I replace the rhinestone set with the pearls because the rhinestones were a bit too showy for dinner at home.

"By the way" she said "I brought my camera with me. I think we should take a few pictures of you. Don't worry, dear, I won't show them to anyone else. Would you mind?"

I thought about it for a minute and replied "OK, why not?"

She went to her car and came back with her camera, an older Nikon with a flash attachment. I had seen her with the camera on other occasions – she was a good photographer and we had a couple of her photographs in the house. She had me pose in the formal living room. After she had taken a half-dozen pictures, we saw the delivery van pull up, and I went upstairs. When the doorbell finally rang, my heart leaped to my throat. After a minute, Mimi called for me "Come on down, Evelyn, and see what we have for dinner."

I descended the staircase as gracefully as I knew how, but not too slowly. Ashley was carrying a bag into the kitchen. As Mimi said, she was college-age, trim and handsome, wearing jeans and a T-shirt beneath a white apron. I had eaten at the restaurant where she worked a few times with my parents, and I recognized her. She put the bag down then turned to me, smiled, and introduced herself, extending her hand, which I shook. "Hi, I'm Ashley. What a beautiful house you have. And I just love what you're wearing – you look so elegant! It must be a special dinner."

"It is" said Mimi. I asked if there was anything I could help with and, thankfully, there wasn't. Mimi said "Evelyn, why don't you finish setting the table while Ashley and I finish preparing the food." I went to the dining room and started setting the table.

"You look familiar, Evelyn. Do I know you from somewhere?" asked Ashley, watching me through the doorway between the kitchen and dining room.

"No, I don't think so" I replied.

"Are you sure? Maybe I've seen you at the restaurant?" was her reply.

"I haven't dined there for a long while" was the only thing I could think to say. She then returned to her conversation with Mimi. I heard her ask what the occasion was and when the two other guests would arrive. Mimi replied that it was for some special friends, and they'd be here shortly. Another five minutes later, Ashley was heading out the door.

"Nice to meet you, Evelyn. Whoever is coming for dinner – well, you're going to knock 'em out."

Before she left, Mimi asked her if she could take a picture of the two of us standing next to the dinner table. She took three, encouraging me to smile, saying "You have such a pretty smile, Evelyn. Let's see it."

After she left, Mimi said "That went really well, Evelyn. See? She didn't have a clue – she just thought you were a pretty girl in a pretty dress." She then suggested that I put on the rhinestone jewelry, "just for fun."

The dinner was fabulous. I told Mimi how much I appreciated what she was doing for me and how thankful I was, especially for letting me dress up. She replied that she was happy to let me be me. I was to go back to school the next day, and Mimi was glad I was, for she didn't want me to get behind on my studies – that was her first responsibility, she said. We talked about my parents return and she said she'd make sure that the guest room was all cleaned before they got back in a little over a week, and that I could stay there in the meantime. She would take me to and from school tomorrow, and would do a bit of laundry for me in between. "Perhaps next Sunday, we can take another drive to the country?" she asked.

"I'd like that, Mimi" I said honestly.

I helped her clear the dishes ("Be extra careful of your dress, dear") and put food away.

"Well, let me go check your room, dear, and lay out some nice ladies things to wear to bed." While she disappeared upstairs (it wouldn't take her long, for I had left the room neatly made), I used the restroom and touched up my makeup.

She came back downstairs carrying the bed jacket that matched the negligee I wore beneath the dress.

"I have a favor to ask you dear, before I leave. I hope you don't think me too forward in asking, but could you show me how you look in your negligee and this jacket? I'd love to see." She was in the formal living room and had laid the jacket on the couch, underneath the mirror, and was sitting down in a chair. It took me a moment to realize just what she was saying – did she want me to undress in front of her?

"Uh, Mimi, should I go change?" I asked tentatively.

"That won't be necessary. Just remove your dress and put it on. It's not like I haven't seen you in a pretty nightgown before" referring back to the previous afternoon.

It was dark outside and I had turned off the lights in the dining room. Mimi turned on a couple of table lamps, and they cast a soft glow about the living room.

She sat in her chair, her head resting on her hand, and watched me. I had her undivided attention. I undid the sash and unwrapped myself, opening the dress to reveal the negligee. "So pretty…" she said softly. I struggled a bit with the sleeves and she said "No, no… take the dress from your shoulders first, and then remove the sleeves." I did as she said – for it was easier and less stress on the fabric. With the dress removed, I draped it on the couch and picked up the jacket. As I did so, I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused for just a moment to brush a bit of my hair back. The rhinestones caught a bit of light and sparkled. I let out a little sigh.

"You certainly like wearing pretty things, don't you?" she asked quietly. I didn't answer. I carefully put on the jacket, adjusted it and my hair, and turned to face her.

"You're so lovely, dear. Your mother, I think, will be happy to have such a beautiful daughter. In fact, I think you're even prettier than your mother, which is a high compliment indeed. Now, let me take a few more pictures, OK?" Nervously, I posed for her again, standing by the grand piano, as she took a few more pictures and gracefully made her way to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, dear."

I stood in the living room for a long while, admiring myself in the mirror, before locking up, partaking of some hashish, and gliding into my boudoir where Mimi had laid out the Jane Woolrich set on the bed.

I stood at the cheval mirror for the longest time, titching, the house still and quiet, except for the cries of a delicate, refined, and coquettish young lady in her exquisite lingerie and jewels. At some point, I realized that my pantie napkin was insufficient, but I just didn't care – the moment was so intense. As the precipice approached and the house echoed with my cries, I managed to lift the front of my negligee to reveal my panties as I climaxed with a cry of "I'm creaming in my panties!" I watched in the mirror as my cream wetted the panties. I had completely sullied them and had to wash them in the sink and hang them to dry. (The next morning, before Mimi picked me up for school, I put them in the dryer for a minute or so, and they seemed just fine.)

Back to school, wearing underthings

The next morning, Tuesday, there was a definite chill in the air. I was going to wear gray zip-up sweatshirt over a soft flannel shirt and jeans. I had awoken early and had too much time to kill. "Why not?" I thought as I stood wearing my robe, getting ready to don my boring white boy underwear, "there wasn't any problem when I wore panties last week". And so I went to school wearing the brassiere, garter belt, thong, and bikini panties that went with my pajamas, as well as dark stockings and another pair of tulip panties. As Mimi drove me to school, I regretted wearing the things, for I was so on edge. Mimi dropped me off and I saw Ms. Hunter, my English teacher, walking towards me, heading towards the teachers lounge. She greeted me and we walked together for a minute.

"You know, I saw a girl downtown on Sunday that looked just like you. Do you have a twin sister? She was in a car just like that one" she nodded her head towards Mimi's car, waiting to exit the parking lot. "It wasn't you, was it?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"No, of course not" I replied, trying to sound incredulous, trying to put on an expression of disbelief, but knowing deep down that she had recognized me.

"Oh well, my mistake then. But she was very pretty and beautifully dressed" she said with a knowing smile as she continued her walk.

When English class came around (my last class), I was in the classroom early, and Ms. Hunter gave me a nice smile. She paid particular attention to me that day, and told me again that I looked 'distracted' when I left to find Mimi. After I got in the car and we pulled away, Mimi asked "There were some ladies underthings missing from the drawer today, Doll. Did you wear them to school?"

Blushing, I answered yes.

"That's fine, dear. I was just curious. There's no reason you shouldn't, unless someone might see them." I told her that I thought I was safe and wouldn't be discovered.

"By the way," she continued, "I saw that your teacher – the one you said recognized you – was talking with you. Did she say anything?"

I told her our conversation. "Well, it doesn't matter. Next time, tell her it was you and see what she says then." Mimi was just incorrigible about my right to dress as I wanted.

Back home, the light-blue shirt dress was waiting, along with the Jane Woolrich foundations. The sheets had been changed. While Mimi busied herself downstairs, I dressed. Eventually, she called for me and I descended the staircase as she watched me.

"You're becoming more ladylike every day, dear. Your mother will be happy."

While I did my homework, she went upstairs, presumably to my boudoir to lay out some things. She stayed through dinner. We discussed going out on Sunday – she wanted to take me to lunch at a café she knew near the city, where there would be little chance of seeing anyone I knew. I was secretly thrilled and terrified, and told her I needed to think about it. After she left, my homework done, I smoked a bit and went to my boudoir. On the bed was the lilac chiffon.

I found myself kneeling over a pillow in the center of the bed, the lilac robe and peignoir forming a puddle of chiffon around me, ever so slowly churning, my cream ever so slowly rising, and my cries of delight ever so slowly becoming louder and high-pitched. I cried out "Oh, what a sissy!" when the moment arrived.

The lady librarian

Mimi arrived early on Wednesday morning – a good forty-five minutes before I had to leave. I was downstairs in my robe with the lilac peignoir underneath (I didn't want to spill anything on the peignoir or its robe, so I had my robe on the outside), talking to mother, who had called from Europe (we spoke every other day or so, and there was no mentioning of the boudoir). After I hung up and continued eating breakfast Mimi asked casually "Will you be working at the library today?"

"Yes" I replied "the usual time."

"Will you be wearing ladies underthings to school again?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"Um, I guess so" I replied.

"And when you go to the library, too?" she continued. "I think you should."

"Um, sure" I replied.

I wore the same underthings as the previous day to school. I was a bit less on edge, but still distracted. Ms. Hunter gave me a nice smile when I came in to the classroom. "I'm the teacher's pet," I thought, "and wearing ladies underwear". When I returned home with Mimi from school, I went to my boudoir. On the wingback chair was the pink camisole and dance pantie that mother had provided for the pink chiffon dress. On top were the pink satin foundations that Auntie had sent –brassiere, waist cincher, bikini panties, and tulip panties, and a pair of nude stockings. On the other chair was something unexpected – the pair of menswear-styled fawn colored rayon slacks and the fine silk and cashmere V-neck sweater in a matching fawn with off-white trim at the neck, waist, and cuffs.

I heard Mimi come up the stairs. She came to the door of the boudoir and knocked, and I said "come in".

"I thought you should wear these things to the library today, dear."

"But Mimi, the slacks and sweater are just… just…" I stammered.

She completed my thoughts for me: "Too ladylike to wear? Nonsense" she replied. "If you wear that sweatshirt" she said, pointing to the hooded gray zip-up sweatshirt I was wearing "no one will notice. Besides, you've told me that you hardly see anyone but Cynthia when you're at the library. So, why don't you go ahead and wear these nice things? That way, you can feel nice a pretty for the afternoon."

She left, and I began dressing. Sitting at my dressing table in my foundations, getting all creamy, I decided on what extra things I'd put in my backpack to dress in when I was at work on the third floor. I would go all the way and bring a skirt or dress. I finished dressing and admired myself in the mirror – definitely too feminine. But when I put on the hooded sweatshirt, it hid the sweater and enough of the waist and hips of the slacks that I was comfortable with going out in it. After all, Mimi was right – Cynthia wouldn't notice, and I doubted I'd see anyone else at the library.

In my school backpack, I put the charcoal gray silk knee-length side-buttoned fit-and-flare pleated skirt. It would look great with the sweater. I added the pink satin pettislip, the brassiere sachets, and a pair of suede charcoal gray Sabrina-heeled pumps and matching purse of my mother's. In the purse went makeup, my pearl jewelry set, and a long rectangular silk scarf that matched the ensemble nicely.

I came downstairs and Mimi gave her approval. "You look very nice, Doll. With the sweatshirt, it's hard to tell you're wearing ladies things." She dropped me off at two o'clock and would come back at five-thirty. Cynthia greeted me, and I headed up the elevator with my stack of books. Again, I had the upper floors to myself. I finished shelving the books in a half hour, then headed to the third floor. Into the bathroom I went, coming out a half hour later, all dressed, having nearly creamed while changing. Clicking about on my heels, I busied myself with shelving a few books. Yes, I was a young, pretty, and well-heeled librarian, so diffident and shy in her stylish ensemble, her expensive soft sweater and silk skirt, her silk scarf adding to the understated elegance. I did my homework – somehow – and then glided about a bit more, getting so very creamy. I managed to get changed without any incident and was picked up by Mimi at five-thirty. On returning home, she stayed to prepare dinner for me, and suggested that I go upstairs and change. I returned downstairs in the same ensemble that I wore at the library. She complimented me on it, saying that I had such wonderful taste.

After Mimi left, Auntie called. I could tell it was her by the caller ID on the handset, and I debated whether I should answer it. Just before the answering machine kicked in, I picked it up and greeted her, walking into the formal living room with the handset, stopping in front of a mirror.

Auntie asked me how everything was going and if I was getting lonely. We chatted for a few minutes and then she asked me if I had gotten the photographs. I stammered something and she brushed me off, telling me how pretty I was in the dress and how much fun she and Suzanne had that day. She asked me about the package containing the black velvet. "Did you get the package I sent? It had a really elegant black velvet dress and other things in it." I replied that I did get it and I 'had put it away'. She sounded disappointed that I had so cavalierly put it way and asked if I hadn't at least seen what was inside, to which I replied that I had seen the contents. She perked up a bit on that and asked "Isn't it an elegant ensemble? Don't you just love it?" Again, I stammered something. She didn't press it further – I think she knew just how embarrassed I was by the whole conversation. (Standing as I was in front of the mirror, wearing the skirt, sweater, heels, scarf, jewelry, heels, and lacy little underthings I had just worn at the library, my embarrassment was only heightened.) Before saying goodbyes, she said she had sent some other packages of 'pretty things' that I should see in a day or two, and that she'd call over the weekend. My heart skipped a beat when she told me that.

I put down the phone and stood still in front of the mirror, just quivering with delight – this was how I was dressed for work – oh my! And Auntie was sending me more things! I gushed into my pantie napkin and sullied my panties, requiring me to wash them.

On Thursday, I wore the pink foundations set to school. As she drove me to school, Mimi again asked if I was wearing ladies underthings. After replying that I was, she said she was pleased and glad. She also said she'd be returning to my house to do some housework, and that she'd be tending to the bedroom and if there was anything I needed laundered, such as underthings. I couldn't think of anything specific, so she left the topic by saying she'd have a look herself and decide what laundering she'd do.

I had orchestra practice after school, so I stayed in the school library and caught up on all my homework, handed it all in, and even took my math quiz, all before practice started. I was all caught up and would be able to skip school the next day, giving myself a nice three-day weekend. Our music director complimented me on my playing, saying it was 'passionate'. I knew it was because the lacy dainties I was wearing beneath.

When Mimi picked me up, I told her about getting all my work done and taking the quiz, and she agreed that I could stay home Friday. She also told me that she heard that there was an early winter storm coming during the weekend, and that she didn't like driving in such weather, so our Sunday outing would probably be cancelled. She'd come by Friday afternoon with groceries for the weekend and fix dinner. "I expect that you'll be nicely dressed for dinner, then" she said with a wink. "And by the way, your Auntie sent another package."

Taffeta, organza, and tulle

Mimi dropped me off at home. She couldn't stay, which was fine with me – I really needed an evening to myself. I couldn't wait to see what Auntie had sent. The package was waiting in my boudoir. Unlike the previous packages, it was addressed directly to me, rather than 'E. Fairechild'.

Once inside, I resisted opening the box, deciding that I'd wait until after I had dinner, polished my nails, bathed, powdered, brushed out my hair, applied my base makeup, and then partook of some hashish. I took it to the boudoir. Mimi had been there – the bed was made with fresh sheets and turned down, and the heart-shaped boudoir pillow rested on the satin bed pillows. The lilac chiffon set was neatly arranged on the loveseat at the foot of the bed, including foundations and stockings. And there were fresh-cut flowers in the vase. When I opened the bureau drawers, it seemed that most of my foundations had been laundered as well. In anticipation of the evening, I retrieved some candles from around the house and set them up in the boudoir.

I bathed while thumbing through a new clothing catalog, admiring the dresses and the models. I powdered and dressed in the blue short robe, chemise, and tap panties, and applied my base makeup and mascara, leaving the final color highlights until I knew what I'd be dressing in. I was already getting creamy and the evening was just beginning. Sipping champagne from a fine crystal flute, I partook of the hashish, turned the lights down low, and then, almost trembling, I open the box from Auntie.

On top was a note on pretty stationary. It was pinned to a folded piece of beautiful antique white fabric.

My dearest Evelyn:

I thought you might like this poet's blouse. It came into the shop and I immediately thought of you -- and how you like to write poetry. I thought you'd like having a real honest-to-goodness poet's blouse to dress in when the muse strikes. If not, then your mother might like it for her wardrobe – it would go great with the taffeta skirt and princess petticoat that I'm also sending. I'm including some very nice vintage lingerie that we recently acquired, a pretty dress for autumn, and a really cute sailor's dress.

Much love,

Aunt Beverly

PS: Obviously, Stephanie and I are back. I'll give you a call this weekend.

"Oh my" I whispered, in between titches. Out came the poet's blouse. It was made of exquisite synthetic georgette, lightweight with a sensuous fluid drape. There were three tiers of ruffled Chantilly lace on the deep shawl-like neckline and cuffs. At the joining of the neckline was a large loosely tied bow, its ends embellished with lace. Each tier of the sleeve cuffs was also decorated with a thin ribbon tied in a bow. The sleeves were full, billowy, and extra long. It appeared as if the sleeve cuffs would cover most of my hand. Each sleeve had a thin panel of lace running down its length with pleats on either side. The blouse itself was long – almost chemise length. The georgette was sheer and would show whatever lacy camisole I chose to wear beneath. "Oh Auntie…" I whispered.

I lay the blouse on the bed and went back to the box. The next item was a chemise made of the same georgette as the blouse and profusely decorated with the same lace – a deep chevron from the breasts to the midriff, and four inches of lace at the hem. The label was the same as the blouse – this was a matched set. The cut of the chemise was such that much of the lace of its bodice was exposed by the neckline of the blouse. I placed the chemise next to the blouse and stepped back.

Such heirloom treasures! The blouse was so utterly feminine. And the matching chemise! This was no androgynous poet's blouse, oh, not at all. To suggest that a boy might wear such a blouse was to declare, simply, that he was a cross-dressing sissy. "'…when the muse strikes…' indeed", I thought.

Back to the box I went. The next little treasures were a pair of fingerless crotched gloves in antique white and a long rectangular lace scarf.

Then an over-the-knee length black taffeta skirt, full six gore, black, with a shimmering moiré pattern weave, with a wide black satin sash that buckled in the back with a big black satin bow and a foot or more of the sash trailing beneath the bow. Then another treasure that made me cry with delight – a three layer white princess petticoat meant to pouf out the taffeta skirt. The middle layer was made of yards of white tulle netting, sandwiched between two layers of white organza. The inner and outer layers were trimmed with three inches of scalloped accordion-pleated lace. The waistline of the petticoat had two drawstrings about two inches apart, and I figured out that they were to allow for two different lengths. If the upper one was used, the petticoat would show past the hem of the skirt. If the lower drawstring was tied at the waist (and the remaining fabric above folded down), the petticoat wouldn't show. These were placed gently on the bed next to the blouse and chemise.

A shoebox was next. Inside was a pair of three inch stiletto heeled pumps in black. They were black and of basically the same taffeta fabric as the skirt, with a black satin bow at the instep.

And then, a white silk sailor's blouse in lightweight silk. It was such a classic – the V-neck and navy blue scarf, the little caplet, trimmed with navy blue, the three-quarter sleeves also trimmed with blue. And the skirt, navy blue, calf-length and pleated, was made of a fine wool blend. Beneath the sailor's dress was another box containing a white straw hat, the brim turned up, the small crown decorated with a navy blue band that tied in the back with a bow with long trailing ends. I placed these on the chair.

"Oh, oh, oh" I gasped, laying the sailor's dress on the chair.

Then another treasure – a velvet burn-out wrap dress in a deep burgundy with an autumn leaf motif. This I hung on the closet door. It was gorgeous – a charming day-to-dinner dress for the autumn season, exuding well-heeled casual elegance.

And then a blush peach negligee, the bodice all lace and the asymmetrical hem a foot of lace, along with a matching all-lace jacket. Finally, there was three pair of delicious high-cut panties, all the same except for their pastel color, all in a shimmering jacquard satin, trimmed with white lace, and several pair of seamed stockings, including ones in black that I'd wear with the new ensembles.

There was no doubt – I'd be dressing in the poet's blouse and taffeta skirt ensemble. I assembled the rest of the dressing: the Jane Woolrich white crepe de chine foundations and dance pantie, tulip flutter panties, the high-cut panties that I had just received, and a pair of lacy briefs. A pair of lacy garters and black seamed stockings completed the underdressing. I added the big black satin hair bow of my mother's and the black velvet choker with the black and white cameo. I wasn't sure I'd wear the cameo – the blouse really didn't need anything. The set of pearls would be fine. I might use the lace scarf as a hair band rather than the hail bow. I borrowed a gold ankle bracelet with a drop of pearls at the clasp from mother's things.

I turned the lights up to complete my makeup. Since the ensemble was pure black and white, I'd let my makeup provide color – a porcelain geisha look, with full pouty lips in deep red. I wanted my base to be as white as possible, so I used some very white cream base of my mother's.

After completing my makeup, I lit the candles and turned the lights off. I would dress in soft candlelight, just enough light to dress properly. After dressing, I'd take more hashish and turn the lights on, then present myself to the dressing mirrors. I would be quite a moment.

I disrobed, patted a bit more body powder, and donned the fingerless lace gloves that Auntie had sent. As I sat at the dressing table and carefully donned my freshly laundered foundations, new stockings, and lacy garters, I took stock of myself. Here I was; a fragile little wisp of a boy, with fine delicate features and clear alabaster skin. My long brunette hair with its beautiful natural wave, my vivid blue eyes with long eyelashes – I was just so very fetching. The only child of a very wealthy family, living in a manor, pampered and kept. And here, in the deliciously feminine bedroom that mother decorated for me, sitting at the antique dressing table, my face painted, my lips deep red, my cheeks blushed, drawing on silk stockings over my powdered legs, sipping champagne from a crystal flute, soft romantic classical music on the stereo, donning the finest dainty underthings that my Auntie sent me, preparing to dress in a splendid chemise, an exquisite blouse, utterly feminine taffeta skirt and princess petticoat, expensive jewelry, and flirtatious high heels. My mother and auntie were guiding me from a distance, approving and encouraging my cross-dressing. They wanted a daughter and a niece, but instead they got me, a delicate and frail boy, who they were turning into their precious girl. And my French nanny was all in on it, too, laying out things for me to wear, having me dress up for dinner, encouraging me to wear ladies underthings.

I finished my foundation dressing and spritzed myself with perfume from the crystal atomizer.

I was ready for the petticoat and chemise. I almost swooned when I donned the princess petticoat – the rustle of the organza and tulle thrilled me to my very core. A sissy in a petticoat.

Next, the chemise and blouse. I first donned a fine mesh hood of mothers meant to be worn when drawing a garment over one's head. It prevented my makeup from being smudged as well as preventing makeup from getting on the blouse. I paused to smooth out the chemise, blouse, and petticoat. I decided to wear the lace scarf as a head-band rather than the black hair bow, and after getting it just right, I turned my attention to the taffeta skirt. The rustle of the skirt sent shivers through me. It took a bit of time to dress in it, as I had to draw it over the voluminous petticoat, zip it, and fasten the sash with the bow. Finally, the heels. I could see myself in the mirrors, but just barely. The three candles I had lit only gave enough light to dress myself.

With my dressing done, I sat down at the dressing table. I lit a couple of candles so that I could see myself better in the mirror, and then took more hashish. I was so high, I probably took too much, and thoughts of shame and humiliation swept over me. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, fondling my hair and the lace of the exquisite blouse, reaching deep into my thoughts. I remembered my cross-dressing at the library and I let out a quivering moan. I was so exquisite, so fetching, so delicate and submissive. The emotions that were rushing into me and consuming me blended together into a pure sensual state; every one of my senses was charged, ready for orgasm.

I stood slowly, not wanting to faint from the rush of the hashish. I was almost panting, my padded breasts rising and falling beneath the blouse. I turned on the table lamps and presented myself to the mirrors.

Oh my.

I could barely breathe, it seemed. I turned slowly about and posed.

I remember descending the staircase just to feel the rustle of the skirt and petticoat – taffeta, organza, and tulle, the lace of the petticoat showing two inches below the skirt. I visited the mirrors downstairs. I was building up to the moment of purest pleasure and joy. Back to the boudoir, back to my nest of exquisite femininity, I stood at the mirrors, then sat in the chair, my stocking'd legs together, angled to the side, revealing the petticoat. I was titching loudly, crying out, and saying shameful things as I made slight movements in the chair that sent waves of bliss crashing over me. The moment came when I crossed my legs, gathering folds of taffeta, organza, and tulle in my lap. Nothing interfered with the moment – no worries of anyone hearing me, no thoughts of shame – just a cry of "Oh Evelyn!" as my contractions intensified, and a cry of "sissy!" as the grand mal orgasm shook me.

I sat for the longest time, waiting for my dantie to stop quivering and relax. I had made sure my panties were well-protected, so I wasn't worried about sullying my panties, although the explosion I had just experienced would probably require a couple of my panties to be laundered.

I had a delightful undressing. By the time I was done, I was all stimulated again. I donned my pink foundations, nude stockings, and the new negligee and jacket and crawled under the satin sheets. I exhibited a rare bit of self-control and didn't cream.

Out for a picnic

The next morning, as I finished my breakfast, the phone rang. It was Mimi. She had a suggestion – we go for a drive in the country to a dairy she knew that made good cheese (her French background meant she was always on the hunt for good cheese) and had a delicatessen that sold all sorts of cheeses and meats, made great sandwiches, and had a nice picnic area out back. We could have a picnic lunch – and we would probably have the place to ourselves. It was a beautiful fall day, a school day, and I thought why not? I accepted her gracious offer. She had chosen a nice safe activity for me, where I could go out en-femme, with low probability of seeing anyone I knew, or having to interact with anyone.

So I spent the morning dressing in the new velvet burn-out wrap dress. I wore the shaping girdle that mother had left in the bureau drawer and the gray foundations and daywear, and blue silk stockings. In my mother's closet, I found a pair of leather burgundy kitten-heeled pumps and a matching over-the-shoulder purse. I finished the dressing with my pearls.

Mimi arrived around eleven. She was wearing a black pleated wool skirt, a claret red cashmere twinset, gold jewelry, and a nice scarf. She gave me a big smile and hug and told me I looked very pretty. She told me that she brought a camera and asked if she could take my picture. "Don't worry; no one will see the photographs but you and me." I believed her, and did a few poses in the living room.

It was a nice drive to the dairy, and we chatted most of the way. I told her about the latest things from Auntie, and described the poet's blouse and taffeta skirt ensemble as well as the sailor dress.

The delicatessen had a few cars parked out front. We drove around back to the picnic area and parked the car. There was no one else there. While Mimi went inside to buy some cheese and sandwiches, I unpacked the picnic basket she had brought. There was a checkered tablecloth, plates, napkins, utensils, a bag of pretzels, and a bottle of Chardonnay and two wine glasses (Mimi liked her wine).

She took a while, but I wasn't nervous. Eventually she came out and we ate. She poured me a glass of wine, telling me it would help me relax. The fall colors were out, and Mimi took a few more pictures of me against the backdrop of a large maple tree.

After lunch, I needed to use a restroom. Mimi said there was restroom in the store that was right next to the back door, and she walked over there with me. I blushed as I entered the store, a couple of people saw me, and I got in and out of the bathroom without incident. I did spend a minute or so freshening my makeup.

On the drive back, Mimi suggested that I dress up in the poet's blouse and taffeta when we got home and she could take some pictures. She had planned on fixing me dinner and staying to eat with me.

A call from mother

We arrived back around two o'clock. Mimi wanted to stretch out on the couch and watch a bit of television. She suggested I go upstairs and take my time dressing up, then come down for a few photographs. "Maybe we'll have time for you to dress in some of your other things for more pictures" she suggested.

I went to my boudoir and undressed. It was good to get out of the girdle. I powdered and then laid out the poet's blouse and taffeta skirt ensemble on the bed, then dressed in the foundations. As I was drawing on the princess petticoat, the phone rang. Mimi picked it up after one ring, and I waited for her to call me and perhaps come upstairs with the phone (there was no phone in the boudoir). Just in case that happened, I retrieved a short robe. After a minute, I assumed she hung up the phone, so I continued dressing, donning the chemise and blouse. Fifteen minutes or so had passed. I fumbled with the skirt next, finally drawing it past the petticoat, and was just getting ready to zip it when I heard Mimi knocking gently on the door. "Doll? It's your mother and she wants to talk to you" she said as she opened the door. Holding the skirt up with one hand, I took the phone from Mimi with the other, and greeted my mother. I glanced at Mimi and saw her mouth the words "you look so pretty". Seeing my difficulty with holding up the skirt, she came to me, turned me around, took hold of the skirt, moved my hand away, adjusted the skirt, then zipped it up and fastened the bow. She then guided me over to the dressing table and motioned for me to sit.

Mimi picked up the black velvet choker with the cameo pendent and silently asked me if I wanted her to put it on me. I nodded my head up and down.

The whole time Mimi was assisting my dressing, mother was telling me about the places they had been since we last talked. She was in Rome, and it was evening there. I gathered that my stepfather was out with some clients, leaving mother alone in the hotel room. As we talked, Mimi removed the black chiffon hair bow and gathered my hair, then retrieved a hair clip from a drawer in the vanity and clipped my hair up and out of the way of my neck. She then gathered up the stray strands of hair from the nape of my neck and used a bobby pin to fasten these stray hairs out of the way. She was being careful and gentle, and the nape of my neck got all tingly as she did this. She then picked up the choker and wrapped it around my neck, working around my hand that was holding the phone. With the choker in place, she let my hair down, picked up the hair brush, and began to brush my hair. As she began brushing, there was a lull in the conversation. Then mother lowered her voice a bit and said:

"I hear that you've been staying in the guest room, dear. I just want you to know that that's perfectly fine with me, OK? I'm really happy that you are. Mimi says that Beverly has been sending some pretty dresses and other things and you've been putting them all into the guest room. Thank you, sweetheart, that's perfect – that's where I want them all to go. You must have quite a nice wardrobe in there to play dress up in. We'll talk all about it when I get back, OK? In the meantime, just enjoy it all, dear.

I stammered something in reply – I really couldn't find words. Mother said a few reassuring words like "…don't worry, dear, just enjoy yourself, OK?"

I was quite a scene; sitting at the dressing table, dressed in a stunning blouse, taffeta skirt, organza and tulle petticoat, all made up, my French nanny behind me gently brushing my hair while my mother just told me, basically, that she knew about my cross-dressing, approved of it, and wanted me to enjoy it.

Goodbyes were said. Mother said she'd call on Thursday when they reached Paris. I turned off the phone, set it down, and let out a long sigh. I just didn't know how to react. Mimi brushed my hair a few more strokes, gathered it together in the back, and nonchalantly asked me to hand her the hair bow.

"You look so very pretty, Doll. Come, let's go downstairs and I'll take a few pictures."

Still in shock, I followed her downstairs to our formal living room. After posing for a few pictures, I got the nerve to ask Mimi what she told mother. "Oh, this and that, dear. I knew she'd like to hear that you've been staying in the guest room" she replied.

"Mimi? Did you tell her I was dressing up?" I asked, my cheeks blushing.

"Yes, Doll. I told her that you've been wearing dresses around the house. She seemed happy to hear that. She asked me how I felt about it and I told her I like it when you dress as a lady."

"Oh, Mimi" I said, my voice quavering, "I feel awful, just…"

She cut me off and said, rather sternly "Nonsense! Never be ashamed of who you are! I won't hear that kind of talk around me. Now just stop acting so sad and smile."

After a moment's reflection, I said "You're right, of course. Thank you Mimi." I smiled broadly, feeling better by doing so, and struck another pose.

"I need to start dinner for us" she said, her tone back to normal. "It will take a while to get everything together then into the oven, and then it'll take a couple of hours for the lamb to cook. I'm cooking extra to take to an older couple at church tomorrow. The husband just got out of surgery, and the church is fixing and delivering meals for them. Perhaps you'd like to go with me tomorrow to drop off the meal? Why don't you think about it while you go try on another dress, and I can take more pictures? But give me a couple of hours, OK? I may lay back out on the couch."

I went back upstairs and slowly undressed, thinking about what mother now knew. The forbidden fruit of cross-dressing seemed forbidden no longer. My mother knew and approved. When my stepfather wasn't around, would she let me dress up? Would we go out as mother and daughter? Would she help me choose dressings and help me dress, just as Mimi had done? My thoughts turned to Mimi's offer, to go with her to deliver a meal for an older couple at her church – it meant another opportunity to go out dressed.

I dressed in the blue negligee and matching foundations, with blue stockings, and the sailor dress. I had yet to try on the ensemble, and I immediately fell in love with it. The bodice of the blue with white lace negligee showed beneath the lightweight silk of the blouse, and the movement of the pleats on the skirt was so feminine and graceful. But it was the straw hat with its blue ribbon trim that really defined the ensemble. It gave it that vintage little girl look. A pair of blue and white patent leather pumps of my mother's went perfectly, and the pearls were just the right touch, adding a bit of a grown-up touch to the ensemble. The skirt was the same length as the negligee, which meant that the white lace at the hem of the negligee would occasionally show when I moved or sat with my legs crossed. I sat at my dressing table and primped for a long time, thinking about mother and Auntie. I was getting really creamy, to the point that I had to be careful lest I cream in my panties. An hour and a half had passed, so I made my way downstairs. Mimi was in the kitchen, fixing tea. I could tell she had gotten up from the couch just minutes before. She complimented me profusely and loved the 'grown-up little girl' style of the dressing. After pouring us both teas, she took some pictures, using the remaining film in the camera.

"Tomorrow I'll get these developed" she said. I had to enquire about where she'd take the film and she understood why I was asking and said: "Don't worry, dear, I know a drugstore that will develop them in an hour, and I'm sure that no one you know will be seeing the photos."

I set the table while Mimi finished in the kitchen. During dinner, she talked about the meal she was to deliver -- the couple lived a few miles outside of town. She wanted me to accompany her because she was concerned about driving out there alone in what might be bad weather (the storm front expected over the weekend was indeed moving in). Would I come with her to keep her company? I agreed. A little outing in the morning would be just the thing to start the day, and I'd have the rest of the day and Sunday to myself. She asked me what I'd wear and I told her I was thinking the sweater dress my mother had left in the bureau drawer. She suggested that I also bring a coat as it might be chilly.

Mimi left soon after dinner, leaving me alone with my thoughts about mother. I just couldn't get it out of my mind; mother knew. I found myself in my boudoir, still dressed in the sailor's dress, high on hashish, standing in front of the mirrors, fondling my hair, thinking about it all. She knew that I was dressing up and seemed pleased about it. Maybe I wouldn't move out to Auntie's to work after all, I thought. Maybe I'd just stay home over the winter and spring, working at the library a few days a week (getting all sissy-dressed in soft sweaters and dainties underneath) and dressing up at home, all with mother's approval and, perhaps, guidance (would she give me advice on what accessories to wear with my ensembles?). We could find places to go out as mother and daughter, maybe going into the city to stay for a few days at a nice hotel. When my mother and stepfather went away on holidays (which seemed to be happening with more frequency), I would have the house to myself to indulge even further. Mimi would be there to care for me, fixing meals, tending to my boudoir and wardrobe, taking me out as her friend's daughter. What could be more perfect? And then I could move out to Auntie's in the summer – I was sure she'd let me dress up, too. I would wait until mother returned to access these possibilities, but, oh my, what a perfect winter and spring it could be!

Standing at the mirrors, I began to cry, tears streaking my makeup. They were tears of shame and tears of joy. I slowly lifted my skirt and negligee, revealing my many panties. My hand wandered down and I was soon in the throes of yet another toe-tingler. A rich, spoiled sissy-boy in his pretty sailor's dress, dreaming of the next few months working as a librarian and posing as his mother's daughter… Oh, how I cried out!

Later, dressed for bed in some of my mother's things – the diaphanous and lovely pink robe and nightgown, I laid out the dressing I'd wear for my morning excursion with Mimi. For foundations, I'd wear the pink satin with shimmering gray lace set: full-cup brassiere, waist cincher, bikini panties, and tulip panties. For daywear, the camisole, pettislip, and dance pantie set in lingerie pink with ivory Venetian point lace trim and embroidery. I added more panties in the hope of adding some padding to my pelvis and white silk stockings and lacy garters. For accessories, I added a matched angora scarf, gloves, and cute beret set in a mauve color that closely matched the trim of the sweater dress that mother had stored away in the bureau. The pair of pink and cream pumps and matching purse went perfectly. For jewelry, I borrowed some my mother's costume jewelry. The necklace had big beads made of a cream and pink translucent material, with matching bracelets of the same material, and drop earrings. I added some gold bangle bracelets and a gold ankle bracelet. Finally, I laid out my mother's off-white camel hair coat, a classic long coat with a self-tie belt and large kick pleat. It was quite an ensemble, so soft and classy – I couldn't wait to be dressed in it.

After laying out the ensemble, I readied myself for bed; Mimi was coming by around ten o'clock and I'd need several hours to bathe and dress. I paused at the mirror to admire myself in the lovely pink nightgown and robe. It struck me that the set was a fairly recent addition to my mother's wardrobe, added right around the time she purchased the black velvet and midnight blue silk faille gown that she had left on her bed for me and was now hanging in the boudoir closet. I couldn't recall her ever wearing this nightgown and robe, or having any signs of her wearing it. Had she purchased it for me? This thought was foremost in my mind as I snuggled over a pillow for a long delicious ride, watching the creaming unfold in the mirrors, saying things like "Oh Evelyn, you're mommy's sissy boy!"

A short excursion then another package

I woke early to get all ready to go with Mimi. After showing and drying my hair a bit, I braided a thin princess braid in my hair and tied it off with a bit of pink silk ribbon. I then put the remaining hair into heated curlers. I buffed then polished my nails a shade of pink that went well with the ensemble. A powdering followed, and then into the foundations and short jacket for a careful making-up. For eyeshadow, I chose pinkish hues. For blush and lip gloss, I chose some darker hues – it seemed appropriate for the chilly weather (the temperature outside was below 40 degrees). The dressing continued slowly and deliciously. I waited until I had donned the dress before removing the curlers from my hair, spraying it a bit to hold the curls before I did. When I let it down I was so amazed at how full and beautiful my coiffure was.

I had just put the finishing touches on my dressing when Mimi arrived. She was wearing a nice black wool coat with mink trim, black kid glove, a claret red cable knit cashmere sweater over a black turtleneck, tasteful gold jewelry, a long tartan skirt in hues of burgundy, black, and gray, and black kid leather boots. "You look fantastic, Doll, dear, just wonderful. You must have spent all morning dressing, no?" She brought her camera with her and took a few photographs before we left, starting a new roll of film. It was about a twenty minute drive outside of town and we stopped off at a drugstore where Mimi dropped off the film while I waited anxiously in the car. Then it was off to deliver the meal for the older couple from her church.

We arrived at their house, I was feeling bold, and so I got out of the car and helped Mimi. She introduced me as the daughter of a friend of hers. The husband was in bed, still recuperating. Carol, the wife, was in her eighties and walked slowly with a slight bend. She was very sweet and invited us inside for a cup of tea and Mimi readily accepted, adding that she couldn't stay too long due to the approaching storm (the skies were very threatening, and it seemed that it would hit within the hour). We went inside Carol's house and had a cup of tea at the kitchen table. I removed my angora gloves, revealing my pink polished nails, and untied my coat to reveal my dressing. Carol remarked on how pretty I was. I sat blushing, remembering to keep my knees together as I sat and act as ladylike as possible. We stayed for about 15 minutes. Carol asked me a few questions, trying to ascertain if she knew my mother. Mimi assured her that she didn't. As we got up to leave, Carol again remarked on how pretty and well-dressed I was, saying it was nice to meet such a pretty and well-mannered young lady.

As we drove back to the drugstore, Mimi asked me about my job at the library. I described to her how, oftentimes, I'd have the third floor to myself with nothing else to do but finish my homework. She offered that maybe she'd come by early on Wednesday to pick me up and I could show her around.

We arrived at the drugstore and Mimi retrieved the pictures. We drove to an out-of-the-way spot in the parking lot and stopped to look briefly at the pictures. I was completely struck by how pretty and feminine I was, as was Mimi, saying things like "oh, this is keeper" and "you look stunning in this one, dear".

As we drove home, I asked the unthinkable: "Mimi, if you do come by the library on Wednesday, could you bring your camera and take a few pictures of me? I… I'd just like to have a few of me at the library."

"Certainly, dear, I'd love to. I'm thinking that you'd like to dress up for the pictures, yes?"

My heart skipped a beat as I heard myself say "yes".

As she dropped me off at home, the first drops of rain began to fall. She said we'd discuss taking pictures at the library later. Telling me to call if I needed anything, she started to drive off, but had to stop because a FedEx truck was coming up the driveway. When he stopped the truck, Mimi negotiated her car around the truck and drove off, stopping at the end of the driveway, I assumed, to watch that the delivery man left without incident. He came out of the truck, saying something like "terrible weather we're having". He was a younger man and undoubtedly handsome. He retrieved a package and approached with the package and a notepad computer – I would have to sign for the package. He held out the notepad computer to steady it, handed me a stylus, and said with a smile "If you could just sign here, Miss Fairechild." I quickly signed "Evelyn Fairechild". He handed me the package, saying "Thank you Miss Fairechild. Have a good afternoon… I daresay to stay inside – it looks like a big storm coming in."

The package was from Auntie. I scurried inside, locking the door. The package and photographs went to my boudoir and stayed there while I ate lunch and readied myself for a very wonderful afternoon. I lit fires in the fireplaces, drew the curtains, put romantic classical music on the stereo, and made sure all the doors were locked. I took just a bit of hashish and poured a glass of sherry. I even put on the coat, gloves, scarf, and beret again, just so I could watch myself disrobe from them in the boudoir mirrors. I entered the boudoir and spent several minutes removing the coat, gloves, scarf, and beret. I went through the photographs again, marveling at them, pulling out the best ones -- a half dozen or so, and arranging them on the bureau top. I was starting to titch as I opened the box from Auntie.

There was a note on top that read:

 

My dearest Evelyn:

I thought you could use a comfy and warm sweater set to lounge about the house in, and a new pajama and robe bedtime set for those chilly evenings.

Much love,

Aunt Beverly

 

Pinned to the note was an oh-so-very-very-soft blush pink draped cowl neck sweater, made of the finest mohair. It had two layers, an inner layer of off-white fine mesh, and then the outer layer of open weave blush pink. It was rather long, with a tight waistband, and long raglan sleeves. I let out a squeal of delight as I held it up. I surmised that the tight waistband would allow the extra length of the sweater to fold over the waistband giving the sweater a very clean line.

Beneath the sweater was a pair of billowy dyed-to-match slacks in gossamer rayon. It was unquestionably a ladies' ensemble. The only masculine aspect about it was that it had slacks.

I laid the ensemble out on the bed and let out a sigh of 'Oh my, Auntie'. Returning to the box, I found a bundle of burgundy red satin tied up in a long red satin ribbon of nearly the same color. I gently lifted the bound garments from the box, put the bundle on the bed, and untied the ribbon. On top was a pair of pajama bottoms. The fabric was a luxurious synthetic satin, quite glossy. The outside seam of each leg was finished with a one-inch wide ribbon of a complementary red satin. I was expecting a pajama top next, but instead I found a chemise. The bodice was a draped square-top, with a half-dozen wide pleats running horizontally across the chest with pink lace netting in between each pleat. The shoulder straps were one-inch wide, the same color as the seam accents on the pajama bottoms, and the hem of the chemise was finished with the same accent ribbon. Next, a pair of culottes, mid-thigh length; the waist adorned with the same pleats as the chemise and the leg hems finished with satin ribbon. Then a full length robe, the quilted lapels and cuffs made of the same complementary satin, as was the wide sash.

I was so stimulated. I was titching very loudly, saying "Oh Auntie" and "Oh Evelyn, you lucky girl, you, just look at what your Auntie sent you".

I returned to the box, for there were still things in there, hidden beneath a layer of pink tissue paper. I lifted the tissue paper to discover another note from Auntie that read:

 

Evelyn, sweetheart – just a few more things, just in case you're in the mood for dressing up!

 

Beneath the note was a matching full-length nightgown, essentially the same as the chemise, but the bodice had a bit more drape. At the waist on either side were two ribbons that tied together to fit the waistline. Beneath that was a full knee-length skirt of the same ribbed mohair as the tunic sweater. More treasures followed -- a white satin chemise and tap pant adorned with pink lace, the breast of the chemise all lace. Then a matching foundation set; brassiere, garter belt, and French-cut briefs, all white satin with pink lace. Finally, a pair of white crochet-knot merino wool stockings.

I was cooing and titching with delight. What a lovely set of things, arriving just in time for a weekend of lounging about all snug and warm inside with stormy weather outside. Stormy weather outside, and a stormy time in bed planned, too; a pretty sissy librarian in the throes of exquisite orgasms.

As the rain began to pelt the window, the sound mingling with the soft classical music, I slowly undressed from my morning ensemble and carefully donned the new foundations and stockings, chemise and tap panties. I was trembling with anticipation as I sat at the dressing table to freshen my makeup and partake of more hashish. I was wearing lovely new things, the white satin of the chemise was shimmering in the soft light, the pink lace of the chemise and the pink hues of my eyeshadow, blush, and lip gloss so charmingly coordinated, my long brunette hair all curled and coiffed – I was so feminine, so pretty. The merino wool stockings felt so nice against the goose-bumps on my legs. I was so very ready to finish my dressing and then finish the afternoon with a long and luscious creaming. The events of the past two days were fresh in my mind. I had been out dressed as a fine young lady and completely accepted as one by Carol and the delivery man. Oh yes, it would be a creaming to remember.

Then the phone rang. I let out a cry of surprise when it did – I had forgotten that the handset was in the boudoir. I looked at the caller ID – it was Auntie. I didn't want to answer. All sorts of thoughts raced through my mind, but after the fifth ring – just before the answering machine would pick up, I answered.

After the normal greetings, she asked:

"I sent a package by FedEx to you, sweetie, did you get it?"

With trepidation, I replied yes.

"Oh good. I heard you are going to have a winter storm out there, and I knew you'd be cooped up in the house all by your lonesome self, so I thought you might like to have some nice cuddly warm things to wear" she said in a soothing voice. "Don't you just love that sweater?"

"It's very nice, Auntie. Thank you." I felt I had to say something else, and I stammered out "But it's… it's a ladies sweater, though, and…" I replied, too much of a lisp in my voice, I realized.

"Oh, nonsense, dear, why should that matter? You're there by yourself and you can wear whatever you want. So what if, as you say, they're all ladies things?" (I had only mentioned the sweater, but Auntie included 'all'.) "The important thing is that you like them" she replied, again in a soothing and reassuring voice.

"Well, if you say so" I replied.

She paused a moment, then said "I want you to promise me you'll wear it, OK?"

"OK, Auntie. I promise" I replied with a sigh, as if I was really being put-out by it all. She ignored me.

"And the pajamas? Aren't they nice? I think that is such a pretty color for you."

"Oh, Auntie" I said in a pleading voice, "they're very nice, but…" my tone trying to say that I wanted her to stop talking about the things. She cut me off.

"Now, sweetie" she said, just a bit of admonishment in her voice "don't tell me you don't like wearing ladies things. You certainly enjoyed wearing that wedding dress this summer didn't you?"

"No, Auntie. Please…" I whined.

"Oh, don't be such a party pooper, Evelyn. I know you better than you think. Did you see what else I included? The skirt? The nightgown? And those cute little underthings? I was thinking that since you're all alone in that big house, you might want to pass the time dressing up."

I stammered something again and heard myself saying "no…. well…." I continued, as if to say "maybe".

"Oh good" she said upon hearing my tentative reply "I'm glad that I included those things, then. You know, with all the other things I've been sending to you and your mother, you have a lot of pretty things you can dress up in. Like that poet's blouse with the taffeta skirt and petticoat, and that black velvet evening dress."

I whispered "Oh…" It all I could say.

"Well, darling, I guess I should let you go. It sounds to me like you have things to do, like 'maybe' dress in those underthings and that sweater and skirt… I'll talk to you after the weekend, OK, dear? In the meantime, have fun in your new things. Bye now, angel."

I hung up the phone, letting out a huge sigh. That was it – everyone knew, everyone was encouraging me. Not knowing what else I could possibly do, I smoked the hashish (a bit too much for I was really 'rushing') and began dressing in the sweater and skirt, completely on tenterhooks, moaning with sensual pleasure, trying not to cream. The skirt and sweater were just so utterly soft and feminine, perfect for such a soft and feminine boy.

I presented myself to the full-length dressing mirror. Outside, the rain was coming down hard. There was lightening and an occasional rumble of thunder. "Ewwww… Oh Evelyn!" I moaned. I thought of all the events of the past few days, but especially of sitting at Carol's table, having tea, so prettily dressed, being told how pretty and well-mannered I was, and of the delivery man, so handsome, and not suspecting that I was anything but a pretty young girl. I was titching loudly, raising and lowering my heels rhythmically. Such a pretty young lady.

I creamed while pressing myself against the bedpost, thinking how it would be to go out in such a pretty and feminine ensemble.

My next creaming was a noisy, bed-creaking pillow ride in my new nightgown. I wasn't wearing a pantie napkin and I creamed all over my new things (a subsequent washing removed the stains).

The storm lasted through Sunday, and Monday dawned cold and crisp. I carefully dressed for school with all the proper dainties beneath. Mimi tidied the house while I was in class. I arrived home to fresh sheets on the bed, the new nightgown laid out, the pink mohair skirt and sweater with all the right underthings on the wingback chair. Mimi wanted to see me in them, she said. So I dressed while she waited downstairs, and came mincing down the stairs in my high heels sometime later to have her take some photos of me.

Tuesday after school, Cynthia had left a message on the answering machine. She was sick and there was no one to fill in for her. She wanted to know if I could still come in and do a bit of re-shelving. She would leave the key and alarm code for me. I called her back and said of course I would. Mimi and I would come by and pick up the key around dinnertime. She gave me the alarm code over the phone.

Mimi said "Do you know what this means Doll? We can have a little 'fashion shoot' at the library." Together, we selected ensembles for me to model -- the black velvet, the pink mohair, the sailor dress, and the poet's blouse and taffeta skirt ensemble. She drove me to Cynthia's to pick up the key.

After school on Wednesday, Mimi had laid out the gray slacks, white angora turtleneck, mother's camelhair coat, kitten heels, and foundations for me to wear to the library. As we had discussed, I put on a foundation of makeup so that I wouldn't have to spend time at the library doing so. Off we went for a fashion shoot at the library. It was really fun. She took two rolls of film, a half roll for each ensemble. The musty old library provided an elegant backdrop. Some of my poses were of a librarian and her books, while others were just portraits. It was dusk by the time we were done, and I exited the library wearing the sailor dress and heels, nervous that I might be seen. After Mimi dropped me off, I had a light dinner, and then scampered upstairs to put away the ensembles I had worn. As I put the ensembles away, I recalled my posing in each of them and just how absolutely humiliating it would be if anyone saw the photographs that Mimi had taken. I had delved too deep in the last few weeks, I thought, and I should be ashamed of myself. As I was putting the taffeta skirt and princess petticoat away, I was overcome by my emotions and cried out "Oh, you shameful little sissy!" I lifted my skirt and petticoats to reveal my layers of panties and watched in the mirror as a few gentle strokes turned my emotions into pure physical pleasure as I creamed in my panties while crying out loudly.

Mimi had the pictures developed the next day and she had them when she picked me up from school.

An hour after arriving home, I received a telephone call from an airline representative. My parent's plane had gone down.

 

To be continued…

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2007 by Evelyn D. Fairechild. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.