Charlotte's Niece
by Pamela
Chapter 12
With the towel wrapped around me, Ethel had me sit down on the closed toilet seat.
"While you're here and your hair is wet, I'll give you a quick trim," she said.
"You know how to cut hair?" I asked.
"I've done a lot of different things in my time, including being a hair dresser."
"That's neat."
"You have pretty hair, Greg," Ethel said, as she used her hand to move my head around so she could get a good look at all sides. "I think just a few snips will do the trick. You've got it nice and long already, so its really just a matter of a little styling to make it softer, more feminine. I'll give you bangs and let it fall in a curve around toward your cheeks. As it grows longer it'll look even prettier."
"It can go back to being a boys' cut too?"
"If you comb it differently, it would look more like a boys' cut.
Another haircut would make it look like a boys' cut for sure.
Just wait and see, and I'm sure you'll be happy with it!"
I wasn't really concerned; it was mostly curiosity. My fate had been cast to the winds, and it seemed like I was following a path for which I could not very well turn back now. I supposed there was some comfort in Ethel's assurance that I could return to being Greg anytime I wanted, but there must be a psychological payment that goes with what I was doing, one that might not be so easily refunded. For the moment, it seemed like the chance to put on one of Vickie's dresses was worth the price, or if not that, at least I knew that I would have to live with the self-realization that I did not have enough self control to resist dressing up in her clothes.
Ethel found a scissor and comb and proceeded to cut my hair, letting it fall to the ground. Her hands guided my head with confidence so I quickly relaxed, feeling like she knew what she was doing. As she promised, it wasn't long until she told me to take a look in the mirror, and I was amazed to see how dramatic the difference was. With bangs on my forehead and the hair combed forward framing my face, I could see that my roundish features were emphasized to the point where I could probably be mistaken for a girl. There was something scary about the transformation, that it had been so easy to extract such a big change in the way I looked.
It made me wonder more than ever who I was.
"OK, young man, all done! I think we have about an hour or so until Charlotte gets up. I want you all spiffed up by then, so we can surprise her when she wakes."
I wished I could feel as confidant as Ethel that our plan was going to work. I couldn't get completely past a sense that Charlotte jealously guarded Vickie's clothes and that she'd not want them worn by me or anybody else for that matter.
"Are you really sure, Ethel?"
"About what?"
"About Charlotte, that she'll like me as Vickie?"
"Yes, I'm really sure!"
"Really, really?"
"Really, truly, really!"
I laughed, and Ethel joined me. "No problemo, young man. Charlotte's going to be overcome with joy. I'll bet she even cries all over again!"
"I hope so," I said. I was standing in the bedroom with the towel around me. "Should I put on my panties?"
"Go ahead, I won't look," Ethel said and turned away.
I fetched the panties where I had left them on the bed and put them on. "You can turn around," I said when I was done. I stood in front of her wearing the white fluffy panties with little hearts. My own heart started to beat fast as I imagined what would come next. Without waiting for Ethel, I picked up the bra and put it on, blushing slightly. Wearing a bra was definitely crossing a threshold, and I couldn't completely avoid the feeling that I was doing something unnatural.
"Look in the mirror, Greg," Ethel said, "if you don't look like the perfect little vixen!"
"What's that mean?" I said, as I delighted in my image. I made a kind of willowy girl, not too tall, but slender, with my white thighs and small chest accentuated by the bra and panties.
"Its a young seductive girl!" Ethel said. "Now we'll get out your breasts. I hope they're not too big for Vickie's dresses. I didn't think about it before, but it may be that Vickie's dresses don't necessarily correspond to Vickie's bra size."
"But aren't all her bras, 36B?"
"I don't know, we ought to check." Ethel went to the dresser drawer where Vickie's bras were, and went through the stack of neatly folded bras reading off the sizes. The ones at the top were 36B, but further down in the pile, they changed to 36A, and then 36AA. "It looks like Charlotte bought Vickie's bras chronologically going back to when she was pre-pubescent. Its kind of funny though, since all the bras are a size 36. Maybe that's the way Charlotte was when she was young."
I looked at Ethel not understanding what she was talking about. "Greg, you see Charlotte might have already had her adult sized body, before her breasts grew in. I don't know. It could be why Vickie's earliest bras aren't something like 34AA."
"I see," I said not knowing what I should be saying.
"The point is honey, that I'll bet that Vickie's dresses vary in size too." Ethel looked in the closet and glanced through the dresses. "You see, at this end they're obviously for a girl with small breasts, but they still are size 10 dresses. Look at all the frou frou on these dresses, the ribbons and bows and ballooning skirts and crinolines!" Ethel held up one of the dresses for me to see and then put it back into the closet and went to the other side of the row of dresses. "And look at these Greg. These dresses are obviously for older girls. They're still size 10 but they don't have the wide skirts and lace and everything. But they still are very pretty."
"What Vickie should I be?," I asked, feeling a little let down, knowing what Ethel was going to say.
"Why the Vickie who is your age, of course. You can't stuff those breasts of yours into the little girl dresses, even if they are size 10!"
"Good point," I said, while I hid my sense of inner disappointment that the really pretty dresses would not be for me.
Ethel fetched the breast form boxes from the small shopping bag, opened them and handed one of the breasts to me. "Do you know how it goes in?" Ethel asked.
"You mean which cup?"
"Yes."
I looked at the breast and realized that I hadn't been paying close enough attention at Silverman's. "I thought that it didn't matter which cup."
"No it matters very much. You want the bulging side away from your heart. So you see how this one is clearly going to go in your left bra cup."
As soon as Ethel had said that, I realized how pretty obvious it was. "I see, I don't think I'll forget it now."
I put the two breasts in and found myself smiling uncontrollably."What's the joke, Greg?" Ethel said.
"Its no joke, its just that I feel happy. I could be a girl now couldn't I?"
Ethel looked at me sardonically, "you know that just a little while ago you were insulted that Charlotte insinuated that you were a girl!"
"But Ethel, remember you said that I should forget myself."
"Yes I did and I don't mean to imply that you shouldn't be happy playing at Vickie. It will make it more convincing for sure. I'm just a teensy bit surprised that it hasn't been more of a, I don't know, perhaps a struggle for you?"
Her remark worried me and my smile faded. Ethel noticed the change and said, "Greg, I didn't mean to upset you! Its OK that you're having fun pretending to be a girl. In fact, its sort of a relief to me that you feel so happy about it, because the way you were going on before about your manhood, I was worried that you were being forced into something you weren't sure you wanted. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, but now I feel worried that I feel too happy. It must mean that I'm even sicker than I thought."
"There's that word sick again! Stop it this instant, Greg! There is nothing to feel qualms about. I'm sorry I said anything. Now just go and enjoy yourself as much as possible. There is a really pretty girl in you, Greg, and we're going to let her out, but you're still Greg also, except its not his turn to be here!"
"I guess that if there is a girl inside me, there is a girl inside me. There isn't anything I can do about it, is there?"
"Not today, anyway," Ethel said.
I walked gingerly over to the full length mirror and looked at myself. I really had breasts now. From every angle, the mirror showed them prominently held in my bra and rising dramatically up out of my chest. In the sideways view the filled out bra looked like it would on any woman that I had seen in magazine pictures or in the rare movie that I had seen where a woman was wearing a bra or slip. I thought of Elizabeth Taylor in what was that movie, "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?" Only now the girl in the mirror was me, was really really me. They were my breasts in my bra. I turned and my breasts turned with me. I leaned over and they leaned over with me. I held my arms together and nestled the breasts between them, like I had seen so many girls do. I could feel their weight on my front. I gently cupped the breasts in my hands and felt the way the bra held them. I lightly touched my stomach underneath the bra and then slid my hands up until they touched the bra and let my fingers feel how the breasts sagged in the lacy cups, like mountains rising up out of a plain. I closed my eyes and lay my hands over the top of the breasts and let my fingers feel their bulk and how they held out the lace of my bra. In this moment I tried to feel like a girl. I let my eyes flash open to capture a glance of myself in the mirror before I could remember that it was me and I astonished myself because I did see a girl in the mirror. The person in that mirror did look like a girl, and that girl was me.
I turned to Ethel and said dreamily, "what's next?"
"Now its time for some makeup, before you get dressed, so you don't get it on your pretty clothes. First I'll do your fingernails. We can both sit on your bed."
Ethel got a bottle of nail polish, it was a pearly pink color, and a bunch of tissues and she had me sit next to her on the bed on her right side. She was near the dresser and rested the bottle there while she unscrewed the top and brought it over to my hand, which she held in her lap. I watched as she carefully applied the polish in steady stokes going straight outward on each finger. She was extra careful next to the cuticles making sure not to go over onto my skin. As each finger was done she had me hold out my fingers carefully so they wouldn't touch anything, and when my whole right hand was done I waved it about drying the polish and admiring how pretty it looked. Ethel took my left hand and I felt my forearm touch her breast. She held my hand firmly in her lap and there was no place to move my arm so as to avoid her breast. I could tell her breast was bigger than mine and I wondered if one day Vickie would be allowed to grow up even more and get even bigger breast forms. I really wouldn't mind having bigger breasts like Ethel's or Charlotte's. I wouldn't mind carrying them around in front of me. I was sure that I would prefer that cause it would mean that I was that much further from being Greg. Anyway, my breasts were bigger than a B cup, well just a tad bit bigger, but maybe they could be considered a small C cup. I wondered how much room there would be in a C cup bra if I wore my breasts in them.
It didn't take long until Ethel was done. "Next time, you'll do this yourself. Did you see how I did it?"
"Sort of."
"Its something girls learn to do. You'll probably make some mistakes the first few times, but then you'll get it. Do you want me to do your toenails also?"
I hadn't thought about it and I said, "I don't know, is there time?"
"Sure, there's plenty of time, and its summer so you really want your toes to be pretty, in case you wear open sandals."
"Fine, Ethel, thanks," I said.
Ethel had me sit behind her to one side and I brought my foot around her side and into her lap. She held my foot gently and applied the polish. I couldn't see what she was doing, but finally when she was done with the foot, I took a look and was glad that I had let her do it. It was definitely nice having pink toenails. In short order my other foot was done, and Ethel said, "all done. You see how hard it is to be a girl? We're spending so much time just trying to be pretty!"
"I thought that part was easy. It always looked to me that girls put on their makeup or brushed their hair like its no big deal. And they all seem to like going to get their nails done or going shopping for clothes. I didn't know it was hard work!"
"I was just teasing you Greg, but there are a lot of things that are hard for girls. Its not so much that we have to spend time to look pretty, its that we have to do it just so people, not just men, but other women too, don't think that we're weird!"
"You mean its just the principle of it?"
"That's right exactly. If we could just be pretty when we felt like it and ignore our makeup and clothes and everything when we don't care to be pretty, then there would be no problem. Look at men. They just be how they want, whenever they want. Sure, they comb their hair and shave and wash their face when they want to be attractive, but otherwise, its no big deal."
"You'd rather be a man?" I said.
"No way! Whatever gave you that idea? I'm saying it might be hard to be a woman but it's also a nice thing. We don't have to be competitive in the same way as men. Maybe just compete to look the prettiest if we want to win a particular man, but we don't have to beat up on other women to prove ourselves, like men do!"
I thought about what Ethel was saying and then said, "before I think I lied to you about wanting breasts as big as Lei's. To be honest I think that maybe I really did want to be bigger than her. To prove that I was better. I think it must be that as a male I'm competitive!"
"I suppose you are a mixed up jumble of male and female characteristics."
"Do you ever feel proud about having big ones, I mean having big breasts. Like when you were a girl and then you started getting big ones. What was it like?" I felt embarrassed asking her, "am I being too personal?"
"No, no. Its all right. Why shouldn't you be curious. You got your breasts, boom!, just like that! No chance to get used to it!"
"I think I'm getting used to it now. Its nice having them in my bra and feeling them shift when I move. It must be like how you feel. But I am curious about how you felt when they turned out to be big. Were you surprised?"
"Well, its been a long time but I do remember that it was pretty exciting. I remember my friends and I starting our periods close to one another and then our breasts began developing. It seemed like overnight we were all wearing bras. And it was funny how one day one of us would come into school and just have to say something like "A!" and stick out her chest and then all of us would get excited."
"What did it mean A!?"
"It meant that she'd gone from an AA cup to an A cup. Her mom had probably taken her bra shopping the day before and she'd jumped up a size. It was always exciting the day you wore your first bigger bra size. It was like you were more a woman than a girl."
"In gym class the other girls could see you develop?"
"Yes, of course. I guess it was like one year maybe only one or two of us wore bras, and then the next semester there would be most everybody wearing at least a training bra. Just a few of the girls would have a real bra."
"What's a training bra? I mean what does it look like?"
"Its like a bra, but sort of without cups. Perhaps its like a tiny little tee shirt sort of thing. Maybe there's one in Vickie's bra drawer."
Ethel went back to the drawer and searched down to the bottom of the pile of bras. "Look, the very last bra here, underneath the AA cup is a very pretty trainer bra." Ethel pulled it out and held it up to me. It looked sort of like a little short, pink vest, with a lace trim around the neckline, waistline and arm holes. "It could probably fit you without your breasts, but its meant for a girl who's just starting out."
"Is it just to make them feel better?"
"You mean in front of the other girls who do need bras?"
"Yes."
"Right, it does, since obviously a trainer bra isn't designed to give any support."
Ethel put back the bra, "so are your nails dry?"
"I think so, but you were still telling me about how you felt like when you developed."
"Where was I?," Ethel said.
"In gym class you said that more and more of the girls were wearing bras."
"Yeah, and then nobody was wearing trainer bras." Ethel chuckled and continued, "even the girls who could safely wear trainer bras, were now wearing AA or even AAA cup bras. They accomplish the same thing, just to make a girl feel like she's grown up."
"But you didn't have that problem!"
"Far from it Greg. Its nothing to be proud of really. Maybe back then I was proud that I was one of the first girls to a B cup bra and then before you knew it, I think it was maybe 10th or even 9th grade I was wearing a C cup."
"Wow," I said.
Ethel laughed merrily. "What a great accomplishment on my part!
I had nothing to do with it!"
"So you are a C cup now?"
"More or less. I guess I sometimes fit into D cup bras, but usually C cup. I guess you could say I'm a large C cup. Now, I should show you how to put on your pantyhose."
"Yeah, I've never worn pantyhose. It looks really hard to do."
"At the start its a bit hard, then like everything else you get used to it," Ethel stopped what she was saying to open the package of pantyhose.
As I lay on the bed looking at Ethel, I said, "what kind of bras and panties do you like? I can't remember if Charlotte showed your new bra to everyone in the restaurant that day."
Ethel looked at me, "that's a funny remark, why are you thinking about my bras and panties?"
"Its just that I saw Charlotte's bra and slip through her blouse during the cab ride when I got all jammed in between the two of you. Do you remember?"
Ethel looked at me a little funny, and nervously I continued, "Charlotte forced my head down sort of near her breast and one of the buttons of her blouse was undone and I had a view. I mean I had nowhere else to look, it wasn't that I was trying to be a spy!"
"Greg, I hear the boy in you speaking now."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you're being Greg right now, not Vickie. How should I say it, there is a sort of sexual connotation to what you're telling me. You're looking inside Charlotte's blouse like a boy would, not a girl."
"I'm sorry Ethel," I said with some alarm, like I had made a big mistake. "I didn't mean to be disgusting or anything!"
"You're a mix of boy and girl, Greg. I guess we can't forget that there is a boy side of you. Is that the side that wants to know about my underwear? I don't think the girl side of you would be so interested."
"Are you mad at me? I didn't mean to hurt you."
"No, you didn't hurt me, Greg, and I don't want you upset, but you have to be thoughtful about your motivations. That's for sure."
"How do I know which side of me wants to know about your underwear? I thought I meant it as Vickie, cause I don't know much about how girls decide what kind of bras and panties they wear. But I can also see your point that it was Greg speaking, since I guess I do feel kind of sexual thinking about girls underwear."
"Just this once I'll tell you. But I want you in the future to always be careful about letting Greg out when you're dressed like Vickie."
"I promise, I'll try my best."
"Well, my lingerie is not too fancy but it isn't plain either. I don't like bras or panties with no lace on them, but I can't stand them all covered with lace either. I like just a little lace that makes the bra or panty look pretty in kind of an understated way."
"Then you must think my bra is ugly!"
"No, it is pretty, but its not the sort of bra I want to wear. Maybe because I'm a lot older than you. When I was a little girl, I did like to wear lacy things, but I don't feel that way anymore. Anyway, enough of this bra and panty stuff. I've got to show you how to put on pantyhose!"
"OK," I said, but I felt like some issues had not been fully resolved.
"First sit on the end of the bed and raise up your left leg so its on the edge of the mattress. Then you make sure the label on the waist of the pantyhose is at the back. You can then slip on the left leg by gently pulling up the stocking over your toes until it is all the way on." As Ethel talked she guided the stocking up my leg. "Very good," she said when my toe had reached the end. "Now you pull up the stocking from the bottom. First get it over your heel, then up your leg until its over your knee. Now we do your right leg, so it catches up to where the left leg is. For this side, you have to gather the stocking over your fingers until you get to the end." I watched fascinated as Ethel gathered the right leg over her hand, while the left leg was just being held up over my knee. When she was done she said, "OK, now you slip the end over your toes and pull it up until its over your knee. If you do this carefully enough the stockings won't be crooked. There's nothing more uncomfortable than walking around all day with crooked pantyhose!"
Ethel stood back from me and said, "you can do the rest. Pull up on the waist until the crotch is up to your crotch. There is a little pantyhose dance you can do, sort of like a jig in which you help get the waist up as high as possible." Ethel showed me how to do it, and it was fun hoping back and forth while pulling up the pantyhose. When the pantyhose were fully on, I felt a sensation unlike anything I'd had before. The stockings were smooth and kind of tingly against my legs and they made my leg muscles feel like they were being gently massaged. I took a few steps around the room and couldn't contain my excitement.
"Oh, Ethel they're superb! I love them!"
"If you wear them everyday, you'll stop feeling like that!" Ethel said, "women tend to view pantyhose as the public enemy No. 1, now that we don't have to wear girdles any more."
"But they feel so nice!"
"They feel nice sometimes, but usually you feel them confining you, packing you in, when you'd just like to be free of them!"
"Well, I suppose your right, but I think its neat that we're both wearing them."
Ethel could only smile, shaking her head. "Now we put on some makeup. Just a little powder on your cheeks to make them rosy and some lipstick. Your face doesn't have any blemishes to hide. You don't shave yet, do you?"
"No, my hair is still too wispy."
"That simplifies our live a little, though I will have to pluck your eyebrows a bit. Have they ever been plucked before?"
"No, but what is plucking?"
"With the tweezers we pluck out unwanted eyebrow hair, to make them look more sleek and stylish."
"Does it hurt?"
"Not really, here, I'll do it and you'll see for yourself."
Ethel got a tweezer and plucked a single hair from my eyebrow.
I let out a yelp of pain, "ouch!"
"Don't be silly Greg, that didn't hurt!"
"It did Ethel, I swear it did!"
"You're such a baby!" Ethel laughed. "Just a couple more hairs and you'll be perfect."
Ethel proceeded to take out at least ten more hairs. I yelped in pain after each one of them, but I didn't stop her from doing it. When she was done, she opened up the compact we had bought and put some blush on my cheeks. Then she opened up a new pink lipstick and showed me how to put it on my lips. The lipstick had a kind of perfumy taste to it, which was actually pleasant. When I was done, I stood up and took another look in the mirror. There was now really a girl peering back at me. She was slim, with fairly large breasts and a nice roundish bottom wearing lacy panties in her pantyhose.
"I think that Vickie is sort of pretty!" I said.
"I agree, now lets finish the job. We'll need a slip, but first we must decide which dress you should wear."
"I want one of the dresses with a full skirt..."
"I didn't see any, but we'll take a second look." Ethel went one by one through the dresses moving from the younger girl ones up to the teen ones. "You see, right here is where they are big enough for your B cup breasts, and all the dresses from here on, are more grown up. You know, you'd never find an older girl wearing the kind of dress you want."
Embarrassed I said, "its OK, Ethel, its really not important. I was just thinking it might be interesting."
Ethel stopped and looked at me. "There we go again, Greg. Its the same thing you were doing before. Tell me the truth about dresses."
"You're right. I'm sort of disappointed. The kind of dress I really wanted to wear is like those for the younger Vickie."
"I'm glad you're honest Greg because this says something about you."
"What do you mean?"
"A girl your age wouldn't be caught dead in one of the dresses with the pretty bows and skirts. They've outgrown them long ago."
"But what about wedding dresses? I see pictures of girls in wedding dresses with full skirts and with crinolines underneath."
"That's a different thing entirely. Its a tradition. I guess in a sense you're right. A wedding is a time for girls to be as feminine as they were when they were young and wearing little girls dresses. But that's just for one day and to get the photographs."
"So what should I do about it?"
"I think you have to think about how come you don't want to just pretend to be a girl, but want to pretend to be a young girl. A normal girl your age wants to pretend she's a woman, not a young girl wearing pretty dresses."
"But I do want to pretend to be an older girl. I guess I want to be both a young girl and an older girl."
"That doesn't make sense to me."
"Maybe it just means that I can't pretend to be a real girl, until I get memories of being a little girl."
Ethel laughed, "that's an interesting psychological theory there, Dr. Freud! Maybe it has more to do with Greg vs. Vickie?"
"That could be true." I stopped what I was about to say as some old memories came rushing back to me. "Oh, my God, Ethel, I just remembered a day dream that I used to make up all the time. Like every night before falling asleep. I must have been in fourth grade when I started it, but it's been years since I last thought about it."
"Tell me it," Ethel said.
"Its kind of embarrassing."
"Don't worry about that. It sounds important!"
"Well, it always went the same way. I'm sitting, naked, in the back seat of a yellow school bus by myself. Its a bit chilly, particularly my bottom and legs feel the cold of the hard, green, bus seat cushions. Then a little girl wearing a pretty pink party dress, with pink lacy crinoline peeking out from under her skirt, enters through the front door, and walks down the aisle straight towards me, and she sits down next to me on my left side. Her dress puffs up around her and touches me, partially covering me on that side. Then a second little girl enters the bus and she comes up to me and sits on my right side. Now I am partially buried in the full little skirts which are touching my naked skin. Now a third little girl comes on and she sits to the left of the first girl. A fourth girl sits to the right of the second girl, and then more girls come, filling up the rest of the back, bench seat, with me in the middle. More girls keep coming, each in their pretty dresses, and they fill up all the rows of the bus until there is just me and a whole bus of little girls. Now more girls appear. The first one of these comes and sits on my lap, and another one sits on the lap of the girl to my left, and then to my right, and then on the laps of all the girls on the back seat and then on the laps of all the girls on all the other seats. Now the bus is absolutely dense with pretty girls in their dresses with crinolines. I am naked and touched on all sides by the pretty girls. It doesn't stop here! Now another girl comes and she sits straddling my shoulders so her little panties are resting against my neck and her crinolines is over my head and on my shoulders. I feel the intense warmth between her thighs and smell the combined perfume of all the girls. More girls come until the entire bus is just filled with girls. There is no more open room, and I am buried in the mass of dresses and crinolines and pretty girls with long hair and perfume!"
I had gotten wound up as I remembered the fantasy, and ended the speech suddenly. Ethel looked too stunned to speak. Her mouth was agape. "Wow!" was all she managed.
I lay down on the bed and curled up into a fetal position and began sucking my thumb. The pantyhose slid slightly over my skin and make a faint swishing sound as my legs rubbed against each other. I could feel my thighs, just above the knees, touch my breasts in the bra. I was filled with nostalgia for my bus dream. I didn't care what Ethel was saying. I didn't care how foolish I might be. I didn't care if Greg was slipping away. I was tired of feeling afraid of things. With my eyes closed I concentrated hard and I began to feel like I used to feel with my bus dream. The overwhelming riot of pink little girls in their pink dresses.
Ethel sat down next to me. "What's going on in your mind?"
"I'm reveling in my dream." I didn't tell Ethel what I was really thinking which was that I had always wanted to be one of those little girls, myself. I was jealous of them. I wanted to wear a dress just like theirs. Aloud I said, "I guess the fantasy was my way of coping."
"Coping with what?"
"Oh, nothing. Its nothing." I took my thumb out of my mouth and raised myself up. "Aunt Ethel, I want to pick out my dress now." I stood up and walked to the closet. "Which of these will fit me?"
Ethel came over and went through the dresses looking at their sizes. "Any of these eight dresses on the end," she said, sliding the group away from the others.
The dresses ranged from yellow, to light blue, to pink. It was not easy deciding which I liked the best, since the more I examined each one of them, the more I could see that that was the one I wanted to wear. Finally, I said, "my first dress has got to be pink, so I'll wear this one." It was probably the youngest looking of the group, with a sweetheart neckline, tiny vertical pleats decorating the chest area, with wisps of lace peeking out from the folds. The skirt was gathered at the waist and flared outwards slightly. "Are you sure that Charlotte won't kill me for taking it out of its plastic and wearing it?"
"Absolutely, not! Pink is your favorite color and pink it will be!" Ethel slipped the dress out of its plastic, took it off the hanger and unzipped the back zipper. "So what will it be? Half-slip or full slip?"
"Full slip!" I said,"I know there is a pink slip in the drawer!
Its right on top!"
"Well go put it on," Ethel said, and I opened the drawer containing slips and took out the top slip which I had noticed lying there many other times but had not dared to touch.
"How do I put it on?"
"Don't be silly. Its right over the head and wiggle into it!
Make sure you line it up so the front is where your bosoms are!"
I did as she said and got it over my head, and past my shoulders where it got held up by my breasts. I finished getting my arms through the straps and then wiggled a little as Ethel had suggested until the slip got past my chest and extended fully. The slip was cut with a low vee in the front with a sort of puffy area for each breast to fit in. This part was pretty lace and extended to just below my breasts. There was also some lace across the bottom hem.
Where I had felt sort of sexy in just my bra and panties, now I felt more womanly. I spent a full minute gazing at myself in the mirror.
"What's the verdict?" Ethel said.
"Its definitely Vickie in the mirror, and she is pretty cute, I think."
"No argument! I think our great experiment is going to be an unequivocal success. Now, put the dress on over your head and I'll zip you up."
I carefully picked up the dress and put it over my head. Ethel came over and helped pull it past my shoulders, and straightened it out. She went behind my back and zipped it up. As she did so, I felt the dress tightening over my chest and back, but not uncomfortably so. It was secure, but not tight. When the zipper hit the top, I looked down and saw that the dress forced my breasts to be prominently displayed in a kind of sculpted look. Wearing the dress had a powerful affect on me, even more so than the other clothes. I felt any strength I might have had in my arms leave, and my hands went limp and hung down like I had often observed in women. I felt a delicacy to my movements and a grace which I hadn't had before, and I felt my face relax, and I formed a mental image of myself with my makeup, puckered pink lips and a girls passivity.
"Oh, Ethel!" I said, "I have never felt so pretty!"
"You ARE pretty!" Ethel said, and I had the sense that she was holding back tears. "The last thing is shoes! Pick out some low heels, not too high. I guess they can be either pink or white."
I went to the closet and looked through the many pairs of shoes, finally choosing a pair of white patent leather heels. "How about these?"
Ethel looked them over and said, "sure, they're as good as any. The heel is not too high that you'll stumble around. They're a good length for this time of day, anyway."
I put on the shoes, and went to the mirror again. "I feel like a Barbie doll," I said, laughing, and then turned sideways and then looked over my shoulder at myself from the rear.
"A real live Barbie doll!" Ethel said, "which Charlotte is going to fall in love with!"
"I do hope so, Ethel. I feel like have a lot of love I could give her, if only she'd let me!"
"As Vickie, she's going to love you to death!"
I continued staring at myself and then I said, "Ethel, I think I should be wearing earrings."
"Of course you should! What kind?"
"I don't know. Something dangly!"
"Lets take a look at what Vickie has." Vickie's jewelry was kept in a box on top of the dresser. Ethel searched through it and found a compartment containing dangly earrings. "These are all for pierced ears."
"Its OK, don't bother."
Ethel kept checking the little drawers. The last one proved to be filled with clip-on earrings. "Eureka! Pay dirt!" She fished through them and found a pair of long, gold, dangling earrings with a little jewel at the end, and attached them to my ears.
"They're so pretty!" I said.
Ethel was about to respond, when the phone rang. She left the bedroom to answer it, while I continued to admire myself in the mirror. In a minute, Ethel came back in the room with the cordless phone and handed it to me. "Its your friend Linda!"
"Thanks," I said, and Ethel turned and quietly left the bedroom.
I held the phone away from me in a state of panic until I realized that Linda couldn't see that I was made up like a girl. I sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and said into the phone, "hello?"
"Hello, Greg?"
"Yes, hi Linda!" The earring tingled against the phone as I held it up to my ear.
"What's that?" Linda said.
"What?" I said, and then held down the earring so it wouldn't hit the phone.
"Look, Greg, I feel awful about before...it was kind of a shock...seeing you."
I sensed the difficulty that Linda was having and said, "I'm so happy you called. I felt awful myself. I probably let you down."
"I never gave you a chance to explain your side of things. That Charlotte woman was there, and the other girls. The least I owe you is to hear what was happening. Why you were dressed like that. Charlotte gave the impression that you wanted to wear the girdle and bra. Did you?"
"No," I lied, "it wasn't my idea. It just sort of happened."
"How could it just sort of happen?"
I racked my brain for something to say. "It was sort of like Charlotte was psycho-analyzing me, and then she said that if I wore the girdle and bra I'd find out about some of my inner feelings. You know, she's all bent out of shape that I tried on my mom's bra."
"So it was just an experiment?"
"Yeah, Linda, she thought it would bring out my 'inner girl,' but it didn't work." I felt terrible making up lies.
"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" Linda said, "there's still time to get together."
"Actually, I'm still kind of busy with Charlotte," I stammered.
"Don't tell me you're still wearing the bra and girdle!"
"No, I took off the girdle right after you left," I said, and then after a pause, "and the bra too." I was sure I sounded like I was lying.
"So what are you doing with Charlotte?"
"She wants me to help her with some errands."
"When?"
"Soon."
"I'd like to come by for just a little while. Just you and me. I feel like there have been a bunch of things getting in our way, like what happened at my apartment the other night. We could just go out for an ice cream cone. Surely Charlotte won't mind!"
I stood up and began pacing back and forth. I felt the pantyhose clinging to my legs, and my dress rustling against my slip. I looked at myself in the mirror again. The lipstick was still in its place. "I feel terrible, Linda. I'd love to see you, but Charlotte wants to leave right now."
"That's too bad." I could hear the disappointment in Linda's voice.
I thought about taking off the clothes and the makeup and fixing my hair back the way it was supposed to be. If I did it real fast I could be done by the time she got downstairs. But something held me back. I wanted to be Vickie for Charlotte's sake. "I'm sorry, Linda. Maybe tomorrow night, or something?"
"I don't know, I'll have to check. Anyway, bye Greg."
"Bye," I said and I heard the click of her phone. I wanted to cry, but it would probably ruin my makeup. I sat down again on the bed. I must be nuts, I thought.
Ethel knocked once on the door and came back in. "I think I heard Charlotte stirring. The time is fast approaching for your debut as Vickie!"
I didn't say anything.
"What's the matter? Got cold feet?"
"No, its OK. Should I make an entrance with Charlotte already in the living room, or should I be waiting for her out there?"
"I think it will be most dramatic if you wait in the living room. Sit on the sofa, looking your prettiest, and I'll get Charlotte!"
"I'll try my best!" I said.
Ethel and I left the bedroom. She went into Charlotte's room and closed the door behind her. I sat down on the living room sofa after carefully spreading out my pink dress, so the skirt billowed out around me. My legs were together and I felt my pantyhose firmly pressed against my thighs and up to my waist. The sheerness of the panty hose caused a slight silky electricity between my legs. Wiggling my toes I could feel my ankles and feet being caressed by the nylon. I felt the gentle pressure of my lacy panties between my legs and around my waist. I looked down at the pretty shirred front of the dress and the way it gathered around my breasts. The dress and bra held me firmly in my bust and I could feel the pressure of my breasts pushing out against them. The bra strap running across my back gently pushed against me whenever I turned slightly. Along my side, underneath my arms I felt the bra holding me like hands. I could not feel any strength in my arms and I rested them gently in my lap.
I heard the sound of footsteps coming from within Charlotte's room, and I practiced making as beautiful a smile as possible. There was talking, I heard the door open and then I saw Ethel approaching me and right behind her was Charlotte.
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