RELUCTANT PRESS

"MOM!" I shouted, several times. But there was no answer. It was a choice of leaving the bathroom naked or wearing the nightie. I was far too bashful to be seen in the buff so I slipped the nightie over my head and ran to my bedroom. Just as I was about to get my other pajamas, Mom walked in. "I just need to put a few rollers in your hair to give it a little style for tomorrow. We don't need to do a full set so they won't bother you sleeping."

"Mom, what did you do with my pajamas?" I asked, noting she had made no comment about the nightie I was wearing.

"Oh, I picked them up to put in the wash along with the other things. Why?"

"You left your nightgown behind and I had nothing else to wear."

"That nightgown was left for you. After dressing like a girl all day and continuing tomorrow, surely you did not expect to stop for the night? If you do not want to be found out, you need to feel like a girl as much as possible. Now, sit on your bed so I can do your hair."

She wound a few pink rollers on top of my head and one in my bangs. She tied a pink hair net around the set and kissed me good night.

My mind raced over what had happened today and what was in store for tomorrow. I told myself as a boy I should have hated all this, but I didn't. Sure, there was no desire to do this on a regular basis, and certainly not in front of anyone I knew, but it had been kind of fun to dress and act differently. I ran my hands over the soft nightie, enjoying the feel of the fabric and the looseness of the fit.

Why shouldn't boys be able to wear silky things when they felt like it?

-000-

It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when I felt Mom shaking me awake. It was only five o'clock, but Mom said it would take a while to get both herself and me ready. She told me to go wash up and handed me a pair of white lace panties to put on in the bathroom. I saw myself in the mirror and figured I looked like what I imagined all other girls looked like when they first got up. I took off the nightie and put on the panties. They stretched and held me snugly with a different

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RUFFLES & CURLES

By Kammi Morton

feel from the ones yesterday. The rest was a repeat of yesterday girdle, stockings, bra and slip.

"Ok, let's go have breakfast and we'll finish later," Mom suggested.

And so, with rollers and hair net and wearing my slip, I sat down at the kitchen table and had a hearty meal with my mother. She too was in her slip and I felt a closeness to her I had never felt before.

We went back to her bedroom where she sat me at her dresser and applied my make-up. It was heavier today and made me look older which was what Mom was trying to do. "I decided the dress was not quite the right look for you and think a skirt and blouse would be better."

She handed me a black skirt which was quite tight and forced me to take short steps when I walked. Next came a beautiful white blouse. My grandmother had given it to Mom for her birthday and it was one of her prized possessions. It was sheer silk with tight ruffles all down the front and frilly cuffs at the end of the long sleeves. I had thought Mom looked so pretty in it the few times she had worn it. Now I felt privileged to be allowed to wear it. Mom untied the net and removed the rollers. She fluffed up the top and tied the back in a ribbon again. She added a pair of black, clip on earrings and when I looked in the mirror I felt pretty proud of myself.

On the ride to the hairdressing school, which was about twenty miles away, Mom gave me last minute instructions on how to behave. She told me that as a model I should just sit and be quiet, like a dummy, no matter what she did to my hair. This got me a little concerned. She also told me she would introduce me as her neighbor, Danielle.

"Why do I have to change my name?"

"Well, everybody knows I have a son named Danny, so I don't think it would take much guessing to figure out that you were not a girl. Is that what you want?"

"No," I answered.

As we entered the parking lot and Mom waved to several of her classmates, I suddenly got very nervous. The reality of the situation I had gotten myself into finally hit. This was no longer a game played in the privacy of my home with only my mother aware of the charade. I now had to go out in public

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