…would you?

by Julie

missjulie13@hotmail.com

 

Part III

 

I trembled as I was pushed upstairs to be dressed in fancy frills for church. Jenny took my curlers out, and brushed my hair, pinning a shiny pink ribbon bow on one side. Jenny and Sandy even helped me get dressed, giggling at my surprise and reluctance when they held two petticoats for me to wear, slipping them over my head, followed by a pretty dress, and then left after zipping me. I was left to put on the stockings laid out for me, and do my own makeup. It felt strange putting on mascara and lipstick in my room with no one around. And the stockings! They had seams up the back! I had never worn this kind, but seen Mom wear them, and saw Sandy wear them once. They felt very silky over my legs as I struggled under my voluminous petticoats.

Mom, Sandy, and Jenny ooohed and aaahed as I descended the stairs, with my petticoats and pretty, lace-trimmed pink and cream dress rustling very girlishly.

"You should have been a girl, Cindy. ..' very pretty." Jenny sighed.

Mom checked out my seams downstairs, and my face burned red with embarrassment as Mom lifted my dress and petticoats, and adjusted my garters and stockings with Sandy and Jenny looking on, stifling their giggles.

"There, much better ... you have to keep your seams straight." Mom lectured.

Mom gave me white gloves to wear, and then latched a gold cross necklace under my lace-trimmed collar. The cross lay right below the pink ribbon bow at the collar of my dress.

I had trouble getting in the back seat, with Jenny helping me with my two petticoats; and I took up more than my share of back seat as we drove to her church.

I noticed a lot of the women wore seamed stockings, while fewer of the teenagers did. We smoothed our dresses and fluffed our petticoats after climbing from the car; and then we crossed the parking lot with our dresses rustling, and our heels clicking.

I was nervous as we entered the church, and took our pew seats, careful of our dresses as we sat. To conserve space I was instructed to pull my dress and petticoats in, piling them in my lap, as did Mom, Sandy and Jenny. All the standing and sitting during the service in a dress and petticoats took a lot more patience and energy, a lot more care and fussing; and the church rustled with the sound of petticoats and dresses.

Donna and Carol pushed through the crowds as we left, to join us.

"Oh my gosh! Cindy! … Oh, you look so sweet!" Donna giggled, even lifting my dress hem to inspect my snowy petticoats.

Donna and Carol were giddy over the idea of me out in public in a pretty Sunday dress … with seamed nylons yet!

Five teenage girls all standing together drew looks and smiles from boys, and I blushed; while the girls whispered to each other about which ones were cute. Carol got her compact out, and freshened her lipstick, while checking out the boys in her mirror. Jenny nudged me to freshen my lipstick ... but I didn't check out any boys.

Carol and Donna giggled as they bid us goodbye, their eyes sparkling with their amusement as they looked at me.

We were all perspiring (girls never say sweat I was informed) so we all took our turns freshening up in the bathroom when we got home. I washed my face, and redid my mascara, and freshened my lipstick and face powder.

It was amusing with the four of us in the kitchen, all trying to help with dinner in our petticoats, especially me with double petticoats. It was a little crowded...

After dinner, Jenny and Sandy removed their petticoats, and I followed, after I asked Mom if it was ok. Mom had me wear a pretty half-slip instead.

Sunday night there were three pair of nylons hanging in the bathroom.

Monday morning Mom had me wear the pink flower print skirt with my new petticoat, a flower printed white blouse, and lacy anklets. I helped Mom with laundry after breakfast … and found myself outside pinning clothes … and lingerie on the clothesline! It was the backyard and all, but I was still fearful of my friends coming around, and seeing me like this … I mean ... in a skirt and blouse with a bra and all, pinning up bras, panties, and petticoats?

When the dry laundry was taken down, Mom had me help do the ironing. I had to iron my white blouse, and most of the girl clothes I had worn. I learned that laundry was a hard, arduous project! Sandy was very amused. She had offered to help; but Mom said Sandy had helped many times, and it was my turn.

Tuesday, Mom surprised me with a beautiful, milky white full slip with the prettiest lace on the bodice and hem, delicate embroidered white roses on the skirt, and wide, satin ribbon straps. It was so beautifully feminine, and felt so creamy, satiny smooth ... and then she covered it with a light blue blouse and a white pleated skirt. She left me with a blue satin ribbon to tie in my hair, and to put on lipstick.

I went downstairs for the first time without a petticoat … well the second if you count Sunday afternoon.

Mom inspected my fingernails after lunch. She presented me with four bottles of fingernail polish and had me choose a color. When I blushingly chose a pretty pink, she smiled as she handed me nail polish remover. It wasn't until I began removing the red nail polish that I realized I should have stuck with the same color. It would have been so much easier. Mom smiled as I struggled to get the nail varnish to spread evenly, and only on my nail. Nearly an hour later, Mom inspected my work. She clucked her disapproval, and removed my hard work on six of my fingernails, and had me redo them. Thirty minutes later, she took pity on me, and redid three of my nails. Mom then took me upstairs and sat me at Sandy's vanity.

"Now you can do your face. See if you can do as good a job as the girls the other night." She directed.

I was dumbfounded as I looked down at the array of girlie things on the vanity.

"Mom ... what?" I pleaded, looking up at her, aimlessly.

"Just experiment with everything, and see how pretty you can make yourself. I'll be downstairs. You can come down and show me ... or I may return to see how you are doing. Call if you have a question. … enjoy… … Oh, if you overdue it, remember to use cold cream to remove unwanted makeup."

I felt hopelessly lost, but my curiosity took over after a while, as I picked up the different lotions and stuff in front of me, reading the descriptions and directions. Soon I was experimenting to see what results they produced. My curiosity even spilled over to the eye shadow, as I wondered why there would be green, and pink, and such an array of colors.

My pleated skirt and the silky slip felt nice as I shifted; and I lifted my skirt several times to admire the pretty lace hem, and the embroidered lace design on the skirt of my slip. I slid the creamy nylon over my legs, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like over stockings. Being alone in my sister's "girl's" room, and now being free to explore my girlie clothing in private, I was a little surprised, and embarrassed, at how nice these girl clothes felt.

An hour later, I was enjoying experimenting with makeup, and sliding my skirt and slip over my lap. With my eyelids a light blue, my eyelashes heavily mascara-ed, my cheeks with a light pink glow, and my nose well powdered, I took another break from applying makeup to peek at my pretty slip again, when Mom appeared. I quickly pushed my skirt down, blushing.

Mom looked at me a little funny, before smiling.

"Your slip is very pretty … so luscious and feminine … isn't it?" She commented.

I nodded, my cheeks now glowing red.

"How are you doing with your makeup?" She inquired, coming over to hold my chin as she examined my face.

"…' not bad. You are acclimating pretty well to being a girl. It's not easy … but it can be fun … can't it?" Mom giggled as she primped my hair ribbon.

I blushed.

"Keep practicing until dinner. Here…." Mom said, reaching for the eye shadow. She stroked the corner of each of my eyes before placing her hands on either side of my face, and turning me toward the mirror. The light blue extending slightly out from my eyes made me look slightly exotic … and coquettish. I smiled, and then blushed. Mom giggled as she left.

I played with the makeup … and my skirt and slip … and Sandy's perfumes for another hour, when Mom appeared once again; and once again she inspected my efforts. Mom used lotion and powder to soften the makeup a little, and then primped a little with mascara before presenting my image in the mirror.

"You look quite pretty, ..' pity you weren't born a girl. I expect you to do your own makeup in the morning now, and look this pretty for the rest of the week." Mom announced. "I'll leave some makeup in the bathroom for you."

"Come … it's time to prepare dinner." She said, urging me from the room.

I was embarrassed as I walked with Mom downstairs, as I thought about having to put on makeup in the morning.

Sandy was downstairs, and smiled at the sight of me. She went with us into the kitchen.

"Oh ... don't you look p_r_e_t_t_y." Sandy cooed, looking me over.

I blushed as Mom told her I did it all on my own.

"Really? … Awww … Cindy ... that's so sweet! My little sister likes wearing makeup, and making herself pretty."

I felt my face burning.

"Yes, she was kept busy this afternoon. She's finding it's not so easy looking pretty as a girl. She picked out pink polish and did her nails, and worked on her makeup skills ... and she did quite well for her first time." Mom commented.

"Awww, what a great sister you would have made, Cindy." Sandy cooed, hugging me.

Mom almost glowed as she looked at us.

Around 8:30 PM Mom sent me upstairs to get ready for bed.

"I want you to wash and condition your hair, and put it up." Mom directed.

I was dismayed; and it felt pretty strange doing it all by myself ... and it was surprisingly difficult, despite my short hair. Mom came up as I was standing in my pink nightie, working to get the last two rollers in. Mom did the last roller, and then redid three of my other rollers.

"You are to be down to breakfast by seven o'clock in the morning. It will be up to you to see to your hair, makeup, and clothes, including a pretty hair ribbon. You are going to see what it is like for your sister and other girls to get ready for school every day. Your short, permed hair will make it easy for you. Just think if your hair was long like a lot of girls." Mom explained.

"Mo o om!" I whined.

"It's up to you, of course, just how long you want to stay in skirts and petticoats." Mom declared, meaning I either did what I was told or stay in girl clothes.

I was forced to go to bed early in my hair curlers, after setting my alarm for 6:30 AM.

I sleepily dragged myself from bed, none to happy with this turn of events, but trapped by my desire not to stay in dresses and petticoats all summer. I washed, and pulled the curlers from my hair. I just had to run a brush through my hair, and the springy curls did the rest. Mom was right, my permed hair was actually easier than combing my DA as a boy ... but then there was the mandatory hair ribbon. I had several outfits from which to choose in my closet now, and picked out a yellow blouse with a butterfly print, and a full, beige skirt with petticoat. I dressed in my white bra, flower print panties and girdle, lacy anklets, and black flats with bows on the toes. I hesitantly, but carefully, put on mascara, blusher and lipstick. I arrived in the kitchen at 7:06, and was startled to find Mom dressed and waiting.

"You are a little late ... and is your bed made, and room neat?" Mom challenged.

Oops! I hung my head.

Mom lifted my chin.

"Well ... at least you look pretty decent. Maybe you ought to set your alarm a little earlier. It takes a little longer for us girls … doesn't it?"

I nodded.

Mom and I had a leisurely breakfast before I went up to make my bed, and straighten my room. When I returned downstairs I found Sandy having breakfast, still in her nightie and robe. She smiled.

"You look nice." She said.

I sat with Sandy; and we talked as she finished her breakfast. Our conversation was decidedly girlish, about hair and clothes, and grooming; and then we also discussed my revelations about living like a girl.

"You have such a cute, and easy hairstyle. Sometimes I feel like cutting my hair short, and getting it permed." Sandy sighed.

I asked her why she didn't; and she explained it was a big step. Hair didn't grow back quickly, and she liked her hair long ... but it was just a hassle sometimes, and hot in summer. She envied my short hair in the summer, but couldn't bring herself to cut her pretty hair.

I went upstairs with Sandy, and sat in her room; and we talked when she came from the bathroom in her bra and shorts. She sat at her vanity, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and had me tie it with a blue ribbon in a neat bow. We talked some more as she worked on her nails.

The phone rang, and Sandy went downstairs without her blouse to answer, something she had never done before.

"Sandy!" Mom scolded.

"What? … There is just you and Cindy here." Sandy countered.

It was Jenny on the phone, and she and Tammy were coming over.

Sandy went upstairs, and returned in her light blue blouse with the small blue flower print, the blouse I had worn last Friday, and had ironed Monday.

Jenny and Tammy arrived around 10 AM in jersey knit pullovers and shorts, and squealed when they saw me, and fussed over me like they hadn't seen me dressed in sissy girl clothes before. Tammy had a particularly high-pitched, ear-shattering squeal. How do girls do that?

Tammy implored me to come sit on the porch with them, but I blushingly declined.

The girls went for a walk; and Mom asked Jenny and Tammy if they'd like to stay for lunch when they returned. I helped Mom fix salads and sandwiches; and the girls enjoyed fussing over me, teasingly, when they came in.

Sandy, Jenny, and Tammy wanted me to come with them this afternoon. They were going to go over to Kristen's to hang out. I declined, and they pleaded and cajoled, telling me how cute I was as a girl, and no one would know I wasn't a girl dressed like I was. I didn't relish walking through the neighborhood like this. It would be all too humiliating if one of my friends, or a group of boys recognized me… with a pretty ribbon bow in my curls, and in lipstick and fingernail polish.

"Well, if you stay here, you can help me with the mending." Mom stated.

"See? You'd rather come with us, wouldn't you?" Jenny pleaded.

I felt my face turn red as I nodded; and the girls squealed with delight.

I was reticent as Sandy, Jenny and Tammy ushered me toward the front door.

"Sandy, you watch out for your little sister. … Girls, I want you to look out for Cindy too." Mom admonished.

Sandy, Jenny, and Tammy all agreed they would.

I was still apprehensive as we left. I was the only one in a skirt and petticoat, and stood out as the sissy girl of the group with make up and pretty, polished fingernails.

It was four blocks over to Kristen's; and while we saw few kids or adults, and attracted little attention; I blushed timidly just the same as I walked with the girls. Kristen greeted us after we rang her doorbell, and then her face lit up when she saw me, and hugged me.

We went up to Kristen's room, and it was even girlier than Sandy's. Her room was blue and pink with ruffles … ruffled curtains, bedspread, pillow shams, and dresser scarf. She had a number of dolls, and a very girlie, pink lampshade. Jenny and I sat on her bed, Kristen and Sandy had chairs, and Tammy sat cross-legged on the floor. Jenny picked up the two dolls Kristen had propped on her bed, and gave me one to hold, while she held the other. The girls giggled a little at me with a purse and doll in my lap as they girl-talked.

The girls had me freshen my lipstick, and powder my nose before Sandy and I left; and I felt even more vulnerable when I walked home with just Sandy around 4:30. I nearly freaked when we met four older teen boys, and they tried to talk and flirt with us. Sandy fended them off while I blushed clear to my toes when they asked my name; and I had to tell them my name was Cindy. They laughed that we were Cindy and Sandy, and said my name was pretty. Sandy laughed when she looked at me after they walked on past us.

"They are just boys ... not ghosts or ghouls." She giggled, hugging me.

I blushed as we passed two women who smiled at us; and then I saw Danny with two other boys just down the street as we approached our block. They were ambling our way; and I wanted to run to the safety of our house, but was forced to keep the slow pace alongside Sandy, while I embedded my pink fingernails into my purse. It seemed like ages, but we turned up our sidewalk before Danny and the others took notice of us.

Mom quizzed us about our afternoon over dinner; and Sandy giggled as she told her how well I fit in with the other girls.

Mom and Sandy doted over me through dinner and the dishes, and as we sat in the living room, until it was time for me to go put my hair up and get ready for bed.

Mom laid out what I was to wear Thursday.

I set my alarm for 6:15 A M, and didn't hesitate when it went off in the morning. After washing up, I put on my butterfly panties, pink rosebud bra, and flower print girdle. I held up the beautiful, snow white full slip Mom had set out, before letting it's creamy smoothness engulf my body. The blouse Mom set out was pale pink, double-layered georgette. The smallish collar was edged in narrow, delicate ruffled lace, while the short sleeves had plain cuffs. My pretty slip bodice was only hidden by the narrow placket as I buttoned it up the front. I then gently slipped on the seamless nylon stockings, attaching them to my garters. The charcoal gray skirt was narrow, and I wiggled into it, and zipped it and buttoned the waist on the side. I slipped on the shoes, black with a ½ inch heel. The skirt had a kick pleat, or I wouldn't have been able to move, as it was very constricting with my calves straining against the hem as I short-stepped into the bathroom to remove my curlers and put on mascara, blusher and lipstick. I ran a comb through my springy curls before tying a pink ribbon bow. I turned to view the half-inch band of lace across the top of my slip in back, the band of my bra underneath, and my bra and slip straps, so clearly visible under the sheer pink blouse… and quivered. I grabbed my purse, and minced my way down the hall in half steps; and I had to lift my skirt hem as I negotiated the stairs sideways in the narrow pencil skirt. This was so much different than the leg freedom of the full skirts and petticoats. Girl clothes were amazingly complicated, being both confining and a challenge to modesty, as well as time consuming and demanding, what with their layers and delicate nature.

I blushed as I wiggled into the kitchen a few minutes before seven, to my smiling, awaiting Mother.

"Don't you look sweet?" Mom tittered.

"Mom!! … How long do I have dress like this?" I whined, blushing.

"It's not so easy being a girl, is it?" Mom quizzed.

I shook my head.

"Well … I think a few more days are appropriate. You will have an entirely different attitude and appreciation for girls after this … won't you?"

I felt my face burn as I nodded.

"And besides … you make such a pretty girl." She teased.

"But Mom … you can see my … uh … underthings!" I complained.

"Yes … well … a little peeking lace looks so dainty and feminine." Mom tittered.

It was a surprise when I sat, and found my legs tightly constricted in the skirt, as if it was a long girdle. My fingers curiously explored my embarrassingly visible garter bulges at my tightly held thighs as I ate my breakfast.

"Your pretty nail polish and lipstick go so well with your pink blouse." Mom teased.

They probably matched my pink blushing cheeks too, I thought.

Getting up from my chair was not so simple with my legs and feet bound so close together. It seemed so silly for girls to subject themselves to these clothes … silly girls.

Going out to the living room, I observed how the skirt forced my feet to swing in line, one directly in front of the other, heel to toe, causing my hips to wiggle so girlishly. I shook my head in disbelief as I thought of girls walking to and from school in shortened steps in these pencil skirts. I lowered myself into an upholstered chair, and found my legs squeezed tightly together again.

"You need to freshen your lipstick, honey." Mom directed when she joined me.

I retrieved my lipstick from my purse in my lap, while Mom looked on, smiling.

We talked about clothes and makeup, both in general terms and how I was getting along in them. Mom complimented me on how well I was managing, as well as again telling me how sweet I appeared as a girl.

It was a little after 9 AM, when I excused myself to go upstairs to the bathroom. I was struggling to climb the stairs when Sandy appeared in a plain yellow blouse and white shorts. She smiled broadly, and hugged me before examining me, and my outfit, more closely.

"Oh … my pink blouse", she giggled, cupping her hand over her mouth. "It's … um … so … uh … delicate and thin isn't it? …' and your beautiful lingerie … the dainty lace … it looks so pretty and feminine. … How delightful … and sweet you look!"

I blushed as Sandy helped me up the rest of the stairs. She guided me to her room, snickering all the way at my struggles, and wiggling in the confining pencil skirt. She slipped a gold heart pendant necklace under the dainty collar of my blouse, and fastened a heart pendant bracelet on my wrist, and hugged me again.

"You look so pretty as a girl. I'm glad this blouse is getting some wear. I … uh ... found it a bit … well … too revealing." Sandy confided, blushing. "But it is a cute blouse."

I had to slip off the skirt in order to go to the bathroom, and then wiggle back into it before joining Mom and Sandy downstairs.

Mom was sitting with her sewing basket, doing mending; and Sandy was threading a needle to pitch in to help.

"Oh … Cindy, you can help. You can learn to sew! … Um … here, you can fix this strap." Sandy directed with a sappy grin.

I was handed a lacy, white full slip, the strap of which was beginning to separate from the lace in back.

"You make nice, neat, tight stitches … like this." Sandy said as she sat next to me, and showed me how to weave the needle and thread in and out, keeping the stitches close together.

Mom and Sandy smiled with gleeful satisfaction as they watched me with the feminine puddle of nylon and lace in my lap … sewing. I felt quite embarrassed and sissified as I looked down over my own exposed lacy slip bodice, mending the slip strap, under their feminine supervision, and looked at my girlie pink fingertips working with the needle and thread.

Sandy inspected my work when I was finished. Apparently satisfied, she rummaged through other items waiting to be mended, but frowned when she couldn't find another simple project for me. Sandy thought for a minute, before departing for upstairs with a smile on her face. She returned with a spool of satin ribbon, and a pair of lace top anklets, and handed them to me.

"Here … make nice, neat ribbon bows, and then sew them over the lace on the side of your anklets." Sandy directed.

I looked up, slack-jawed, at her smiling smugly.

I slowly began to form a bow with the shiny, white, 5/8" wide satin. When I had made a neat bow, Sandy came over, took one look, and undid it. I watched as she carefully made a bow, and sat next to me as she showed me how to meticulously make a perfect bow with perfect dimples and the ends cut slanted. It took her ten minutes to make a simple bow … perfectly.

"There … now make one exactly like that!" Sandy directed.

I worked for fifteen minutes to make a matching bow for Sandy, but even so, Sandy made a few adjustments before giving it back for me to sew on the anklet.

Sandy smiled … and cooed when I showed her the anklet with the ribbon bow over the lace.

"Sandy … don't you think it's … um … babyish?" I inquired.

"That's exactly what you said when I wore anklets like that a few years ago when I was your age; and you teased me. No … it's just girlishly sweet … and cute. All my girl friends wore them for a time in 7^th grade." Sandy replied, smiling.

I didn't recall seeing Sandy wear them or remember teasing her; but then I would have been 8 or 9 at the time.

Sandy had me take my finished anklets upstairs, as well as some finished sewing, including Sandy's full slip I mended. It was a struggle getting up from the couch, walking, and climbing the stairs in the tight skirt.

"Remember to freshen up while you're up there." Mom called.

I went into the bathroom after delivering the mended items, and sighed as I put on fresh lipstick and patted my face with my compact puff. I squirmed at how girlie I looked, before heading for downstairs. I almost tripped in the hallway as the skirt stopped me short as I went to take too long a stride. I shook my head again, wondering how girls wore these skirts all day to school. They took patience … and so many steps.

I arrived in the kitchen just in time to set the table and help with lunch.

We were redding up the dishes when the doorbell rang. It was Jenny, Kristen, and Corrine; and they were all tickled to see me still looking so girlie, and loved that I was in a pencil skirt, and giggled delightedly as they watched me wiggle-walk.

"Oh, you look so adorable … and with a pretty pink hair ribbon in your curls." Jenny gushed. "Cindy … you even walk so girlishly."

"No … it's this skirt…' " I complained, my face turning crimson.

"Oh Sandy … I think you and your Mom ought to keep him in dresses as a girl." Jenny teased.

Corrine and Kristen tittered as they blushingly nodded their approval. I looked at Mom, who was blushing girlishly also.

"Can we take him over to show my Mom and sister? They don't believe me when I tell them how sweet and pretty he looks as a girl. They'd love to meet Cindy." Jenny begged.

I looked over at Mom and Sandy anxiously. No …' not again! Mom hemmed, and then asked Jenny how her Mother was doing, changing the subject.

Jenny and Corrine joined me on the couch, and primped over my clothes and hair ribbon, taking particular notice, and commenting about, my pretty, lacy, feminine slip under my powder pink, georgette blouse. I blushed profusely as the conversation went on and on about how dainty girlish I looked, and about the merits of making all boys experience being groomed and dressed as a girl for a few days, as I had been.

"Yes, his behavior has improved so drastically. I noticed how different his attitude became when he had to help Sandy with her dress. I was surprised and disappointed then how quickly he reverted to his old derogatory ways of disparaging girls; but I think he is getting the point now that he has to wear dresses, and behave like a girl a little longer." Mom stated.

"Yeah Mom, he is an absolute angel of a sister, in a dress." Sandy giggled.

"Can we take Cindy over to Jenny's, Mom? It's beginning to sprinkle outside. With a scarf and an umbrella, she'll be really safe. Most of the kids will be inside." Sandy pleaded.

Sandy's three girlfriends all joined in, pleading.

"Well … ok, but you girls watch out for hi … er .. her." Mom cautioned.

"Of course Mom, Cindy will be safe with us."

The girls watched gleefully as Sandy floated a silky white scarf with pink hearts over my curls and tied it softly under my chin. The soft, smooth nylon felt so nice, but girlie, against my face.

Just getting down the porch steps in the constricting skirt was difficult enough. I put my purse over my arm, and opened the umbrella … a flower print girl's umbrella. Jenny and Corrine followed behind, and their giggles about my girlie wiggling as I walked in the pencil skirt started before we made it down our walkway. I tried to alter my walk … and nearly tripped. The skirt and shoes insisted in forcing a wiggling, girlish gait as I struggled to keep up with the girls in their slacks … to the girl's amusement.

The gentle shower was enough to keep most everyone inside; and we "girls" had the sidewalk to ourselves. I was a little tired after walking only two blocks in quick, short, confined steps.

"Mom", Jenny called as we entered her house.

"In here", came the reply from the kitchen.

Jenny took my hand, and I trailed her into the kitchen, along with Sandy, Corrine, and Kristen.

"Mom, this is Cindy … Sandy's … uh … little sister." Jenny said, giggling.

"Oh … you mean the Cindy you've been telling me about! … Oh MY! She's a boy? But … he's dressed so … ' "

Jenny's Mom's face lit up, and she blushed slightly as she looked at my chest, and the pretty lingerie visible underneath.

" ..' how pretty she is! What a pretty blouse … and curls with a pretty hair ribbon! … Sandy … you have such am adorable sister!" Jenny's Mom exclaimed.

The girls all giggled as I stood there with a purse and silky scarf trailing from my girlishly polished fingertips, fighting the urge to put a hand over my bust to hide my dainty underthings, and blushing much more deeply than Jenny's Mom.

"You are very pretty, Cindy." She commented. "You make a remarkably pretty girl."

I stammered my thanks to the awwws and ooohhs of the cooing girls.

We were going out into the living room when Jenny's sister appeared; and I was introduced to her as well. She was tickled, and looked amusedly at my girlie bra and slip under my thin, pink blouse. I blushed as I thought about wearing her training bra, as I looked at her slightly larger nearly A cup chest, and realized she would not be asking for her training bra back. I wondered if she even missed it, or knew where it went.

The girls giggled as I struggled to climb the stairs as we "girls" went up to Jenny's room, and then as I tugged down on my bra. We spent about an hour chatting and assessing Jenny's dresses and clothes, even a few of her unmentionables, including her new, pretty petticoat.

The girls, along with Jenny's Mom and sister, fussed over me downstairs, as I slipped my pretty scarf over my head as we got ready to leave.

The rain had let up to just a few sprinkles, and people were beginning to come out, including some boys. Lone boys when confronted with 4 girls are no problem, and shy away, or smile meekly, or call out both whistles of admiration, or taunts from a distance. We passed a couple of my friends, but they barely looked at us. Still, it felt strange seeing them while I was dressed so girlie, and perceived as just another girl.

Kristen and Corrine hugged me before they left us, and Sandy and I got home in time to help Mom set the table for dinner.

It was quite an education spending the entire day in a pencil skirt and stockings … and tiring. Being so tired, it was a real chore as I rinsed out my nylons, put my hair in rollers, and removed my makeup and lotioned myself before being able to go to bed.

I dragged myself out of bed early Friday morning, resentful and groggy at the forced early rising. I came down for breakfast a minute or two after seven in a blouse, skirt, petticoat … and my lacy anklets with the satin ribbon bows.

"…' sweet anklets." Mom teased.

Mom took me upstairs after breakfast, and replaced the yellow hair ribbon that matched the yellow flowers on my skirt with a white satin bow on each side in my curls to match the ones on my anklets.

Sandy was tickled pink at the sight of me when I returned, and giggled with delight. I felt resentful at being kept in such sissy skirts and dresses, while my sister and her friends wore shorts and casual tops and blouses.

It was an uneventful morning as I sat with Mom and Sandy; and after lunch Jenny came over again. Jenny immediately made a fuss, fawning teasingly over my sissy anklets and hair ribbons. Jenny and Sandy reminisced about when they wore the babyish, beribboned anklets in 7^th grade, and Jenny admitted she had worn them a couple of days just last year.

We went up to Sandy's room, and were joined by Kristen and Corrine an hour later; and we "girl talked" most of the afternoon. Kristen and Corrine were also tickled at how I was dressed, of course, and fussed and primped over me, hugging me a lot, like a baby sister.

That evening, Mom told me I didn't have to put my hair up, and I could sleep in Saturday morning. I was pleasantly surprised.

I went down to breakfast, a little skittish, in my nightie and robe just before 9 AM.

"Good morning, dear … sleep well?" Mom greeted.

Mom and Sandy were dressed: Mom in her usual shirtwaist dress, and Sandy in knit top and shorts.

I poured my cereal, and sat down to eat.

"Umm … we have a little surprise for you, Cindy." Mom half-chortled. … "You have a date tonight … to go to the movies and to the ice cream parlor."

I nearly choked on my cereal, and dropped my spoon.

"What?" I protested. ...… who?"

"And if you make a pretty … and presentable date, and are charming, you may get your clothes back tomorrow." Mom stated.

I looked at Mom ... and then Sandy, questioningly.

"You'll have all day to get ready … fix your hair, and do your nails … and pick out a pretty dress … and accessories. You'll get a real insight in what's like for girls to get ready for their dates." Mom explained.

"But … but … who? … I … I'm supposed to go out on a date? … with who? … a boy?" I fretfully stammered.

"You'll see. After breakfast you had better take a nice long bubble bath, and then wash and condition your hair, and put it up." Mom directed.

Mom and Sandy tittered, while I blushed, and played with my cereal. I suddenly had no appetite.

After pushing my cereal around for a few minutes, I left to go upstairs … and groggily do as Mom suggested, and start my bath.

I was still shaken as I climbed into the sweet smelling bubbles for a long relaxing interlude. I then dutifully put my hair up in curlers, and donned a soft terry robe before returning to my room. I applied lotion over my body, and pampered my body with perfumed powder, before selecting a pair of panties and a pretty bra. I then slipped into a petticoat, blouse, pink skirt, anklets and shoes, before gathering a nail file and pink nail polish, and going downstairs.

I felt totally girlified, as much as anything else I had had to endure, as I sat in the living room with my hair in curlers polishing my nails. It reminded me so much of the times I saw my girlie sister do this. I finished, and my nails dried just in time to help Mom set the table for lunch.

"Your nails are pretty, honey, perhaps you should put a clear coat over them now to make them nice and glossy, and keep them from chipping." Mom suggested.

Sandy arrived as we were sitting down. She had her hair in curlers, and had taken a bath too. She had also changed into a skirt. She smiled as I looked at her inquisitively.

"Have you thought about what you are going to wear tonight?" Sandy asked.

I shrugged.

"Would you like me to help you pick out a pretty dress?" She inquired.

I nodded.

After lunch I went with Sandy up to her room. Sandy pulled dresses out, holding them up to herself for her and me to assess. She had quite a few pretty dresses, but when she pulled out an ivory dress, both of our eyes lit up. It had a very full skirt with an unusual, very pretty, floral print. Above the hem were pink and yellow spring flowers with green leaves and stems woven in a pretty pattern. The rest of the dress was intermittently decorated with muted flowers and lacy stems and leaves. The open neckline was edged with pretty lace, and its short puffy sleeves were trimmed in lace. It had a wide satin sash that tied in a fairly large bow in back, with the long ties draping two-thirds of the way down the back of the dress. It was a very pretty, ultra-feminine dress.

"Do you like this dress? … Isn't it delightful?" Sandy trilled, swishing the dress around.

" …' very pretty." I softly replied.

"Try it on." Sandy directed.

I removed my skirt and blouse, and Sandy helped slip the dress over my curlered head, zipped it, and tied the sash. She fluffed the dress all around, and smiled brightly.

"Oh yes … you look adorable in this dress." Sandy remarked.

I turned for her, and then looked at myself in the mirror, and blushed.

"It has a very full skirt. I think you will need a fuller petticoat … or maybe two petticoats." Sandy commented.

"Oh … and umm … " Sandy began, and proceeded reach down the front of the dress to stuff tissue inside my bra.

"You need a little bust with this bodice." She pronounced.

"Sandy!" I protested.

"What? … Girls do this all the time … add a little here, and cinch there." She giggled. " …' and you need a necklace … or strand of pearls."

I looked at the open, scooped neckline, and realized Sandy was right. It cried out for a necklace to display. I then felt Sandy unzipping my dress, and helping me off with it.

I put on my skirt and blouse, and grabbed the clear nail polish.

"Thanks Sandy … I think", I sang.

"You're welcome … little sister." Sandy trilled.

I, once again, found myself in the living room, polishing my fingernails.

We had dinner early at 4:30 so I would have plenty of time to get ready.

I went upstairs shortly after 5 PM to get ready for my "date". I was very apprehensive, but bolstered by the promise of getting my boy clothes returned. I removed my curlers, and brushed, combed, and arranged my curls. I undressed to my bra and panties, and pulled on a girdle, and then sat on my bed while I slipped a new pair of nylons on my legs, carefully attaching them to my garters, making sure they were smooth, snug, and snag free. I was just tugging at the tops when Sandy came in with a pair of white shoes with 1" heels for me to wear. I blushed, somehow embarrassed to be seen in a girdle with garters and stocking tops exposed without even a slip. She smiled … and whistled, teasingly.

I slipped into a petticoat, and pulled a second petticoat over my head so that it settled over the first; and then swished my way into the bath, where I applied a deep cleansing cream to my face, washed, and then patted my face dry as I was taught, so my complexion was clean; and I was ready for fresh makeup.

I went over to sit at Sandy's vanity, and carefully applied mascara, blusher, eyeliner and shadow, powder and lipstick. I wanted to be particularly meticulous. I couldn't chance any flaws that might suggest in the slightest way I was not a girl under close inspection. Sandy was impressed with my girlish skill, and only helped a little.

Sandy, in her bra, girdle, stockings, and petticoat, helped me into my dress, and helped tie a shiny pink satin ribbon in a pretty bow in my hair. She then clasped a single strand of pearls around my neck.

I turned for her inspection.

"You make a lovely girl … and you look so pretty! You are ready for your date, so gather your purse, and wait downstairs." She gushed.

"Sandy! Who am I going out with?" I cried nervously, dieing of curiosity.

"You'll see. … Now, go on downstairs."

I felt totally girlie in the pretty flower print dress with silky stockings, heels, and two rustling petticoats, with my nails prettily polished, and full makeup.

I noisily descended the stairs in my heels, with my petticoats rustling, echoing off the wall.

"You look marvelous! You look so pretty! It's hard to believe you are not a girl! Oh Honey!" Mom gushed as I came down the stairs.

Mom hugged me as I reached the bottom of the stairs, and looked me over from head to tow, before accompanying me over to sit on the couch. My dress and petticoats enveloping the entire couch almost.

Mom continued praising how I looked, when the doorbell rang. I trembled at the thought of meeting my "date".

I heard voices … and then in walked Jenny … and Corrine, Kristen, Tammy, Donna, and Terri … all in pretty dresses.

"Cindy … your dates are here!" Mom called.

The girls squealed and giggled as they greeted me, and gushed over my dress, telling me how pretty I looked. They engulfed me, cooing and fawning over my makeup and pretty nails, in delighted shock to learn I had done it all myself. I was, after all, more "dolled up" than my "dates". I was relieved, and smiled happily at the thought of going out in the company of pretty girls … instead of being trapped in a date with a boy who thought I was a pretty girl. Sandy came down the stairs then, looking pretty in her dress, to join us.

It was so much fun as the group of us went to the movie theatre with our full petticoated skirts filling the sidewalk with the rustling sound of femininity. I laughed at the attempts of teenaged boys begging for our attention; after all, here I was, a boy years younger, in a dress, with all these pretty, older girls to myself.

The group of us were pursued, right to our seats, where us "girls" took our time getting our dresses and frothy petticoats situated into the theatre seats, juggling our purses, popcorn, and drinks.

We watched "The King and I", a very girlie movie with many elaborate dresses and costumes.

After the movie, I was swept along by the girls into the women's restroom!

I had to go, but was apprehensive and embarrassed as I went into a stall. Now … what do I do with all this dress and underwear? The petticoats rustled loudly in the small stall as I worked to hold them up, and pull down my girdle and panties.

"How are you doing in there, Cindy? … Are you doing ok? ... ' having problems, Cindy?" The girls called out, giggling.

I finally came out, smoothing my dress and petticoats, to the laughing and giggling amusement of the girls. They really shrieked in amusement when I reached under my petticoats to pull up on my stocking tops; and then I felt like I was on center stage after I washed my hands, and began freshening my lipstick, and powdering my nose, as all the girls stood and gawked.

We walked to the ice cream parlor; and it felt like we were all on display in our pretty dresses, sitting there in the bright lights beside the large windows. We were whistled at by boys passing by outside. We all got complimented by a number of people on how pretty we all looked; and I felt more like one of the girls than any other time. We all chatted girlishly; and for the first time tonight, I was not always the center of their attention.

The girls all walked Sandy and me home; and we all mingled in our living room for a while, as we talked about our evening, with Mom listening to the details.

When it came time for the girls to go, they all waited for a goodnight kiss. Jenny was first, and surprised me with a full, lingering kiss on the lips. The other girls squealed delightedly, and then I was kissed somewhat passionately by each of the girls, and had to repair my lipstick twice. I was kind of euphoric as I stood at the door in my full petticoats and frilly dress bidding the girls goodnight.

Mom, Sandy and I sat and talked of the thrilling evening for a while, letting the excitement of goodnight kisses settle, before Sandy took me upstairs, and saw to it I took care of my girlie clothes, rinsed out my stockings, and cleaned the makeup from my face, and applied night cream. I still only had girl things, and was put in a nightie for bed.

Sunday morning, Mom brought my suit, with underwear, socks … etc for church. It felt both strange but also familiar to be dressed as a boy again.

Sunday afternoon, Mom came in with armloads of my clothes, and put everything back in my closet and dresser. She pulled a pair of pretty panties from my dresser, and turned to look at me.

"What do you think we should do with your pretty lingerie and things? Should I take them … or would you prefer to keep them in your dresser?"

I felt my face bursting into flame … and struggled to find a voice.

"Ok … I will just take them then." Mom stated, gathering them up.

"No … I mean … uh … they can stay in my dresser." I blurted.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

I nodded.

"Well … ok then, but I expect you to take care of them, and keep them nice and neat … and clean. If you decide to misbehave again, you will need them. It seems an afternoon in a dress helping me with housework works better than grounding you … and I like what it does to your attitude. So from now on, when you don't do as you're told, or get bad grades … you will be spending some time in petticoats."

I was a little shaken as Mom came over to lift my chin, and look at me softly.

"One Saturday night a month you will put your hair up in curlers, and use moisturizer. It will do your hair and complexion good, and be a good reminder." She declared.

"Put my hair in curlers … as a boy?" I meekly protested.

"Well … you can wear a pretty nightie if it makes you feel better." She lightly chortled.

After Mom left, I went over to open my dresser drawer, and look down at the pretty, silky, girlie underwear … and quivered at the sight of my new things. I peeked into my closet, where two of Sandy's blouses and skirts still hung … and my lacy petticoat.

 

The end.

  

  

  

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