The Awakening of Evelyn - Book 5

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The Awakening of Evelyn

Book 5

Evelyn D. Fairechild


The second week of Evelyn's holiday with his nanny unfolds in interesting ways


Chapter Sixteen — The second week of my holiday

Sunday

I awoke fairly early and unlocked my bedroom door, opening it a bit, threw on my robe, and then snuggled back into bed. I heard Mimi rustling around downstairs. I glanced at the bedside clock; she would be leaving in an hour or less.

I was anticipating that Mimi would soon come to wake me and, like the previous mornings, have me drink tea and play our little melodrama; I would tell her I had wet myself, she would check for leakage and in a sympathetic tone, lecture me about my inadequacies. There was no acknowledgement from her that it was just a game, a little intimate theater to further bring me into her clutches, but I was sure nonetheless. The shame of it was that I enjoyed the game, and wondered how far it would go.

My couche-culottes were already damp and an urge to pass water came over me quickly. I was about to rise and use the toilet when I heard Mimi coming up the stairs, so I decided to wait. I was sitting up in bed, wondering what twist Mimi would add to our little game when she gently knocked and entered the room. She was wearing her blue checked robe, loosely tied to reveal her black lace on white satin foundations. She had done her hair and makeup and I surmised that she had come to wake me before she finished dressing, using the opportunity for a bit of intimacy.

"Good morning, dear, did you sleep well?" she asked as she sat on the bed next to me, adding "…and how are you this morning?" She gave me a peck on the cheek.

After saying I slept well, I hesitated for a few moments then added with a whine "Nanny? I wet myself again…"

"It‘s alright, dear. Let‘s check you" she said gently.

I sat up on my knees and she helped me remove my robe. I began to wet myself a bit as I drew down my pajama bottoms, revealing my panties and garter suspenders. As she had done the previous mornings, she fingered the bottom hems of my panties and the garter suspenders for wetness, and began to lecture me.

"Tsk, tsk… you poor dear… I know you feel ashamed about your bedwetting, but really, dear, it‘s to be expected. You‘re so delicate… so frail… just a frail little wisp of a boy… We‘ll just have to deal with it… It‘s a good thing that I had you wear couche-culottes, isn‘t it, dear?"

"Yes nanny" I replied with a lisp as I drew my pajama bottoms up.

"You probably feel so ashamed right now, am I right?" she asked gently.

"Yes nanny" I sniffed. She as gently stroking my back and didn‘t respond to my admission. She was looking at me intently, as if to ask "well?"

Instead of retreating, I let myself be taken in by the melodrama. I sniffed again and sobbed "I‘m just a bedwetting sissy, aren‘t I nanny?"

"There, there, mon chéri — let it out…"

My eyes began to tear up. Some of them were pretend, some of them were real. I shuddered and sobbed and let out a moan, repeating myself "…just a bedwetting sissy… I‘m so ashamed, nanny…"

"Oh, you poor thing…" she whispered, gently stroking my back. "It‘s alright. Go ahead and cry dear — it‘s good for you. It‘s just you and me here… go ahead and cry all you want. You can trust me, dear. I understand… you‘re at such a vulnerable and delicate stage right now, trying to accept yourself as a lady. Tsk, tsk… no need to punish yourself for being a… a bedwetting sissy as you said…" She let her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing "…or… or you could say you‘re a fine and delicate lady. You know what will take your mind off your bedwetting? Dressing up as a pretty girl in a pretty dress and high heels, with pretty intimates and stockings, just like your mommy wants you to do; you‘ll be thinking about how pretty and feminine you are instead of your bedwetting issues. Don‘t you agree, dear? Don‘t you think that you should dress up in a nice pretty dress and high heels and lacy little intimates? Hmm?"

"Yes, nanny" I sobbed.

"Yes, what, dear?" she asked.

With a whimper, I replied "Yes, I should dress up as a lady in high heels and a pretty dress."

"And pretty little intimates, too?" she added, coaxing me along.

"Yes, nanny… and lacy intimates, too."

"Good for you, mon chéri" she said, changing her mildly inquisitorial tone. "So I don‘t have to worry about you while I‘m gone today, do I? You‘ll be dressed up all day, won‘t you?"

"Yes, nanny" I sniffed.

"Now, you need to change out of your wet couche-culottes now, or can you help me make your bed first?" she asked.

I told her I didn‘t have to change and after slipping into my robe, we made the bed. She asked me what I was planning on dressing in that day and I offered that I was thinking about the charcoal gray pleated skirt and the white turtleneck sweater. She said that sounded fine, adding "But I‘d like for you to dress in something a little more elegant for dinner."


It was time for her to get ready to go. She went downstairs to finish dressing as I gathered up a fresh pair of terrycloth panties to change into and brushed my hair. By the time I made it down the stairs and on my way to the laundry room, Mimi had finished dressing, appearing in a black wool suit; pleated skirt and fitted jacket, looking ever so professional. She said her goodbyes, again asking for my reassurance that I‘d be dressing up while she was gone.

"Oh, and one more thing… I thought I‘d drop off the film for developing. Now I know what you‘re thinking, dear, but it will be alright — the place I have in mind is discrete and out-of-the-way … near the house I‘m showing today. There‘s no chance the photographs will fall into the, shall we say, wrong hands?"

With a wet kiss on my cheek, she left, leaving me standing in the hall. As she was closing the door behind her, I let myself go, thoroughly soaking my couche-culottes. I was barely able to remove my pajama bottoms, panties, and stockings without soiling them.


After breakfast, I had a nice long bath, then after applying my lotions, moisturizers, and powder, dressed in the skirt and sweater that I mentioned to Mimi that morning, donning all the proper foundations — the ’lacy little intimates‘ I had promised her I‘d wear. I accessorized with a nice scarf of mother‘s and some of her artisan jewelry. My makeup was hues of plum and brown to match the fall colors of the scarf

I spent a couple of hours finishing my schoolwork. For some reason, I was able to concentrate and get all my studying in, even getting a bit ahead.

I had just finished lunch and thinking about going upstairs for a lovely little nap when mother called. She was in Paris and had time to talk.

She told me she had bought quite a few things in London for me and sent them all off, and that the packages should arrive in another week or so. She had bought some things for Mimi, too, and they were included in the packages. "I hope you like the things I bought for you dear. They‘re really quite nice… the finest cashmere I‘ve ever felt. I got you a beautiful white two-piece set and lots of other things, too, including a couple of adorable pastel tartan skirts."

"Thank you, mommy; I can‘t wait to see them" I cooed.

"And I can‘t wait to see you in them, darling" she replied back.

She said Paris was cold but still beautiful and that she was looking forward to having a day to do some shopping for me. "I‘ve seen boutiques that have some exquisite things…" she said.

The conversation moved onto my dressing-up and how Mimi was helping me. I gave her a broad synopsis of what was going on, leaving out any discussion of couche-culottes and the intimate dressings of the day before, as well as wearing underthings to school. I told her about our aborted foray into Macy‘s and how I just wasn‘t ready. She understood and said not to worry — she was looking forward to giving me some deportment lessons when she came home. In the meantime, I should just get comfortable dressing up around the house and going on drives with Mimi. She would talk to Mimi and make sure she wasn‘t pushing me too far too soon. I told her that Mimi had backed off after the incident and it wouldn‘t be necessary.

She asked about school and the library, and asked me what I was wearing to work. I told her how Mimi had me wear the fawn slacks and sweater and the sweater jacket, but not about changing into a dress later.

"Oh, I‘m glad Mimi had you dress nicely. Did Melanie say anything?"

I thought her question was unusual and inquired "No… not really. Why do you ask?"

"Well, Melanie mentioned to me one day that she thought you were well-suited to be a librarian and that it was too bad you were a boy because almost all librarians were ladies — they didn‘t like having boys around and rarely hired them." She paused for a moment and cleared her throat. "Then she told me that she thought you‘d make for a really cute girl and asked if you ever dressed up as a girl. So I kind of mentioned to her that you might be going through a phase. ’Oh really?‘ she asked, ’what kind of phase?‘ So I told her that, well, you had been wearing dresses recently."

"Mother!" I gasped, "How could you?"

"Don‘t be angry dear. Melanie is quite liberal and open to these sorts of things. She said she thought that was really sweet and that it explained a lot about you. She asked me what I thought about it and I said that I wanted what was best for you and that if you liked dressing up as a girl that was fine with me. I admitted to her I was kind of encouraging you. Then she said ’Well, if he gets to the point where he would like to dress up for work, that‘s okay with me‘ saying that your duties didn‘t require you to interact with anyone who mattered."

I didn‘t know how to reply. Mother‘s observations about Melanie went a long way towards explaining Melanie‘s comments to me at the library — how I was a ’lovely boy‘ and how I was so nicely dressed. Between mother‘s conversation with her and the way I was so sissy-dressed for work, there was little doubt that Melanie knew my secret. It also explained, in part, why mother was always insisting that I ’dress nicely‘ for work. But another part of me was thrilled — maybe I could be the demure and prettily dressed librarian I fancied myself. But another part of me was shocked — how much had my mother really told her? How much had she told her other friends?

"Dear?" she asked, sensing my dilemma over the phone "it‘s alright. I just wanted you to know about Melanie, that‘s all. You know, if it comes up that you‘d like to dress up for work, I bet Melanie wouldn‘t mind at all. You could just ask her, you know."

"Well, I‘ll think about it mommy. I just don‘t want to get caught, you know."

"I know dear. That‘s why I‘m looking forward to moving up to the Hamptons."

I let her last comment just hang there. She sensed that I was completely distracted and began to say her goodbyes. A minute later we hung up.


It was all just too much — my admission to Mimi that morning that I was a bedwetting sissy — and her agreement, the intimate nature of the day before, my mother sending me dresses, and the possibility of dressing up for work — I just had to go upstairs and clear my thoughts, relieve my tensions… purge myself of the awful boy hormones that made me doubt my place in life.

I poured a glass of wine and minced on my heels up to my boudoir. Mimi wasn‘t due back for several hours. An hour later or so, I stood before the mirrors, all done up. My foundations were the white crepe de chine set with white silk stockings and several pairs of panties, well protected by my cashmere daintie glove and a scarf. Over these delicates I wore the crepe-de-chine chemise and dance pantie and my two petticoats; the princess petticoat that Auntie had sent and the white petticoat with the double layer of tulle lace netting that went with the midnight blue gown that mother bought me. I topped it all with the white fox stole, the fingerless crotched gloves, and delicate scarves. I fancied myself as a little girl playing dress-up with her mommy‘s things. My morning ensemble was scattered all about my boudoir. Several pillows were arranged in the center of the bed, waiting for me, along with a hand mirror.

Lifting my petticoats, I nestled onto pillows and had an absolutely scrumptious time, lost in a soft and delicate world. Holding the hand mirror I stared into my eyes, my thoughts were caught up in the conversation I had with my nanny that morning, admitting I was a bedwetting sissy as she gently stroked my back and I wet myself. The moment arrived and I cried out loudly. Still lying on the pillow, influenced by the wine, I drifted off to a blissful sleep.

I awoke when I realized Mimi was opening the door to my boudoir. I had forgotten to lock it — the house had been empty and I was alone, so I just didn‘t think about it. My heart skipped a beat or two then started pounding in my chest. I was caught in a very compromising position; tummy down on the bed, lying on the pillow between my legs, dressed in layers of petticoats and panties. It was obvious what I had been doing. Perhaps she wouldn‘t notice the pillow, I thought — the voluminous petticoats draped over my derriá¨re, hiding the pillow. I had lifted the petticoats in front in order to present my panties to the pillow, and I was laying on their spread of lace, tulle, and organza. It must have been quite a sight, but I didn‘t dare rise or turn over in the slightest for doing so would reveal the pillow and my panties. All I could do was lay still as she entered and sat on the bed, moving the hand mirror aside and putting her hand gently on my back.

"I‘m sorry mon chéri —I didn‘t mean to disturb you. I got done early and I just came back and wanted to check on you. Did I wake you?"

I cleared my throat and replied that she had, but that was alright.

"Did you have a nice nap?" she asked sweetly.

"Uh-huh" I whispered.

"I see that you‘ve been playing dress-up. Good for you. Did you have fun?"

"Yes, nanny" I replied, still not moving, wishing she would go away so I could remove myself from the pillow in private.

"Did you wet yourself?" she asked in a soothing dulcet voice and, without waiting for a reply, added "I should check…" She began to lift the petticoats to expose my panties.

"No, nanny… I‘m fine… really!" I blurted out, not wanting her to see my position on the pillow. But she ignored me, slowly lifting the petticoats off my derriá¨re, completely exposing my embarrassing position on the pillow.

"Nanny… please…" I whispered.

She began to finger the hems of my panties. Perhaps that would be the end of it I thought, but she drew the panties up and to the side and said with concern "Evelyn… you‘re not wearing your couche-culottes."

"I know… I‘m sorry… I just sort of…" I couldn‘t think of a way to end the sentence.

"Well…" she said gently. "I suppose I could let you slide this once. Are you sure you‘re not wet? Is your pillow wet? Hmm?"

"Noooo…" I whined, struck that she had mentioned the pillow.

"Alright then; why don‘t I go fix us some tea and bring you a cup? We‘ll have dinner in a few hours. That will give you plenty of time to dress up nicely for dinner. After all, it‘s been a week since you‘ve come out — you should wear something special." She leaned over and kissed the crown of my head, then patted my pantied derriá¨re.


By the time she reappeared with tea, I had tidied the boudoir and made myself more presentable. I had disrobed down to my chemise and dance panties and donned the matching long robe. I had removed the cashmere glove and scarf from beneath my panties.

Mimi had taken off her black wool suit and donned her blue check robe she had worn that morning, loosely tied as always so that her foundations showed. I sat at the vanity brushing my hair as she gathered up things that need laundering. I told her about mother‘s phone call, leaving out the part about mother‘s conversation with Melanie. A minute or two later, she was sitting on the tuffet behind me, having taken the hair brush from my hand and brushing my hair. Neither of us spoke for a while.

"So tell me about the rest of your day, mon chéri. You had a nice nap, no? A nice nap in bed with your pillows?" she asked coyly.

My face reddened. "Uh… yes, nanny…" I offered.

"Good. You need your little afternoon beauty rests, don‘t you, snuggling up with your pillows?"

I was afraid of where she was going with her questions. It was just too intimate and personal. What did she want me to say? So I mumbled something in response.

"From now on, I‘ll try to make sure that there‘s time for you to have a nice afternoon nap, dear" she said, nearly whispering, adding "…a little beauty nap for my blossoming little lady."

"Uh… okay. Thank you nanny" I breathed. Then, for the sake of propriety, I added "I don‘t need one every day, you know… I mean there days where there might not be time and stuff."

"Of course, but that doesn‘t mean we shouldn‘t try to fit in your nap."

I didn‘t reply and she continued brushing my hair.

"You got a chance to dress up in some special things this afternoon, didn‘t you? Like your pretty petticoats — they‘re special, aren‘t they?" Her voice was so quiet, so mesmerizing; I didn‘t know what to say. I think I replied with a barely audible ’uh-huh".

"You know, you never had a chance to play dress-up like little girls do. You know — little girls go through a stage where they love to dress up in their mommies‘ frilliest and laciest things… You never had the chance to do that… What a shame. So you‘re just making up for that, making up for lost time. That Halloween costume I have in mind for you is really frilly and lacy — I think you‘re going to really enjoy it. And don‘t think you need to dress as an elegant and tasteful young lady around the house all the time — you can dress all frou-frou instead if you like. Would you like that, mon chéri?"

"Yes" I whispered.

"Maybe we should have a special day for you, a frou-frou day, no?"

"Yes, nanny… I‘d like that" I breathed.

"And then I‘ll make sure you have your beauty rest, too" she added.


She gathered up some laundry and was about to leave when she said "That reminds me — I need to take your measurements for the costume." Fifteen minutes later, she had measured me and wrote down the numbers. My waist was twenty-four inches and my chest was twenty-seven without a brassiere, thirty and a half with. My hips were twenty-eight inches.

She left my boudoir to let me chose my own dinner dressing. An hour or so later, I descended the staircase in the pink chiffon dress mother had bought me. I wore something else, too, something I had been thinking about trying; an oh-so-pretty long pink satin peplum waist combing jacket of my mother‘s, fancifully embroidered with vines of lilac, with long full sleeves finished at the cuffs with four inches of pleated chiffon, wide chiffon lapels, and a hidden button closure. It was a little over-the-top, but the combination really seemed to work, especially when I tucked an antique white lace scarf behind the lapels of the combing jacket, I accessorized with the pink and cream two-toned pumps, the pink chiffon hair bow with its cluster of ivory organza flowers and ribbon streamers, and the pearls.

Mimi had dressed up as well, wearing her silver blue chiffon palazzo slacks, beaded blue bustier, and sweeping silver blue embroidered chiffon jacket — one of the mother-of-the-bride ensembles she had modeled. She liked my dinner dressing and agreed that the combing jacket was a nice touch, telling me that I had such elegant taste. "That‘s such a lovely jacket, Evelyn. Perhaps I‘ll set it aside for your frou-frou day, along with your petticoats" she said with a wink as I took a few turns at her request.


During dinner, Mimi said she had dropped off the film and that we could pick it up tomorrow after school. "I‘d like for you to come with me, and you should be dressed, of course."

After dinner, I spent an hour or so in front of the television ironing my freshly laundered underthings, Mimi checking on my progress and technique occasionally.

The evening ended with Mimi undressing me, laying out the blush peach negligee and bed jacket, and making sure that I donned the couche-culottes with pink plastic panties. She left and instructed me to apply my moisturizers and lotions. I was a little tired, and fell asleep before I could do much mischief.


Monday

I awoke early, anticipating my return to school. I had kept my couche-culottes dry throughout the night. I hadn‘t creamed the evening before, and was in the mood, but there really wasn‘t time to properly indulge. I showered and scrubbed, removing the last of the telltale signs and vestiges of makeup and fingernail polish from the last five days. I think Mimi was a little disappointed that she didn‘t get to play our little melodrama that morning.


I had mixed feelings about returning to school. On the one hand, it would be good to see some of my classmates, to get away from Mimi and her smothering and cosseting for a few hours at least. On the other hand, my life had been exorbitantly changed, and I could not reveal any of it to my classmates.

After breakfast, Mimi had me dress in black corduroy slacks, a gray lambswool crew neck sweater, and my gray zip-up sweatshirt. Beneath it all, I wore the silk charmeuse brassiere, garter belt, thong, and bikini panties, as well as dark stockings and another pair of tulip panties.

Mimi dropped me off and I saw Ms. Hunter walking towards me, heading towards our class. She greeted me and we walked together. "I came by your house — did you get the class notes?" she asked.

"Yes" I told her and made up an excuse that I must have been in the shower or something.


During class, I had to consciously remind myself to not be so ladylike in my mannerisms, like sitting in my chair with my legs crossed or fondling my hair. I made it through another distracting school day, aware of my intimate underthings, realizing that my fingernails were too long and manicured for a boy, thinking about what waited for me at home, and feeling numb thinking about the embarrassing position Mimi found me in and the things she said about my ’beauty rest‘.

Mimi picked me up on schedule, and reminded me that we were going to pick up the photographs.

Back home, we had lunch and Mimi sent me off to my boudoir to change. She had obviously spent some time laying out my ensemble. She had selected the St. John‘s knit with the pink silk and cashmere top, accessorized with the coordinated scarf, the pink and gray clutch purse and the matching two-toned pumps, and white silk stockings. Foundations were the set of pink satin and shimmering gray lace, and daywear was the muted lingerie pink with ivory Venetian point lace trim set — camisole, pettislip, and dance panties. On the vanity was the open jewelry case containing the pearls that mother had given me, along with a hair barrette of my mother‘s decorated with organza and tulle flowers in shades of pink and ivory that matched the ensemble. As a final touch, the short robe that matched the pink and gray lace foundations was hung on the back of the slipper chair. How thoughtful of Mimi; I would don the foundations then sit at the vanity, put on the short robe, and do my makeup.

An hour or so later, I descended the staircase. I had added mother‘s gold drop-chain belt that she had dressed me in. Mimi was waiting. "You look absolutely adorable — so very, very pretty" she said with a smile.

My heart was pounding as we exited the house and went to her car. 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 bit of a giggle "You can sit up now, dear. Let the world see what a pretty young lady you‘ve become."

We drove for about twenty minutes. As Mimi had promised, the drugstore where she had taken her film was out of our normal territory, minimizing the likelihood that anyone would recognize me, either in the photographs or as I sat in the car. Mimi took longer than I expected, so I entertained myself by doing my makeup. She finally arrived carrying a couple of bags — she had purchased several picture frames and a couple of beauty and glamour magazines for me. She said she‘d bought the picture frames to display the best photographs. I asked to see the photographs, but she said "no peeking — you have to wait until we get home."

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

"It‘s shorter dear. Don‘t worry; nobody is going to recognize you."

We drove by ’An Affair to Remember‘, the shop where mother bought me the pink chiffon. It was no longer in the window — and then I remembered; it was hanging in my closet!

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 Ms. Hunter. I immediately turned towards Mimi and whispered, in a panic, "That‘s my English teacher. I can‘t let her see me!" My voice was trembling and I‘m sure my face turned white.

"It‘s alright, dear" she said calmly, glancing behind me. "She‘s not even looking this way."

We arrived home and once inside, I was exhilarated. I had gone out again as a girl! Not just as a girl, but as a girl in a very classy ensemble, all turned out, wearing very fine lingerie, expensive pearls, and high heels.


We sat on the couch and went through the photographs. Mimi was an excellent photographer — the pictures were so much better than the snapshots mother had taken. I was really stunned and affected by what I saw; it was hard to believe that the oh-so-pretty and exquisitely dressed young lady in the photographs was me. There she was, dressed in a two-piece chiffon tea dressing; pink and red roses and lilacs against an ivory background, flirty stiletto heeled T-strap sandals on her shapely ankles, a matching scarf tied around her neck, sitting in a chair with a schoolbook, looking studious and demure. And who was this fetching young vision in that feminine pink chiffon dress and pink heels, standing by the piano, the lighting perfect, modeling a white fur capelet and a mink and sable coat? She was so enticing. And who was this breathtaking young lady sitting in a big wingback chair in a to-die-for poet‘s blouse and taffeta skirt, her petticoat showing, wearing fingerless gloves that showed her manicured and polished nails, a black velvet choker around her thin alabaster white neck? She was obviously sophisticated and cultured, well-bred and cared for. And there she was again, standing by a grand piano, exuding class and grace, a big white chiffon hair bow with long lace streamers now visible, adding another level of pure femininity. Then — oh my — who was this young starlet in a black velvet gown with a white satin cathedral train draped down her back, a diamond bracelet flashing against the black velvet opera gloves, a diamond tiara on her swept up hair, and high, high heels decorated with sparkling rhinestones? Oh, what class, what a cupcake. And her pose! Standing seductively at the foot of our stairs, holding a white fox stole, casually letting it puddle on the carpet?

Mimi was sitting close to me while we viewed the photographs, commenting on them, telling me how lovely I was, evaluating elements of my dressing, and saying things like "See? How could anyone think you were anything but a very pretty young lady? You just refuse to believe how pretty you are and easily you could live as a girl…"

There was a set of photos of Mimi as well, stunningly dressed in her black lace dress, a wide shiny red belt, a red satin choker, and a riotous coif, ready for a night on the town. One of Mimi‘s comments was "Oh look, there‘s her nanny…"

We selected six of the photographs to put into the frames. Mimi wanted to have two of the photographs — one of me in the poets blouse and taffeta skirt and one in the black velvet — enlarged and printed on high-quality paper. We put one of the photographs of Mimi in a frame which ended up in my boudoir. The remaining photographs were placed about the house, one on the grand piano, two in my boudoir, and two replaced old photographs of me on our credenza and mantelpiece.


I had a bit of reading to do for school and Mimi sent me to our study. I had a bit of wine during and after dinner. I had a bit too much; by the time I had done my evening routine and dressed in the silk moonglow pajamas, nightshirt, tap pantie, and the requisite couche-culottes, I was a bit tipsy. Mimi tucked me into bed. She was wearing her peach delustered satin halter-topped nightgown and robe. She was really leaning over me as she tucked me in, keeping her breasts close to my face. For the first time, I noticed the nipples of her breasts outlined by the satin and white lace of her nightgown. I couldn‘t help it; they were so close to me. My feelings were very confused about this — I felt that Mimi had purposely leaned over to show her breasts to me. Her nipples must have been stimulated — I had heard that women‘s nipples became hard when stimulated, and that was why they were so well defined beneath her nightgown. These thoughts were on my mind as I drifted off to sleep, helped by the wine.


Tuesday

Mimi came to my room with a cup of tea and set it on the nightstand, still wearing her peach nightgown and robe. She left a few moments later, promising to return in a minute or so. I sat up and sipped the tea. I had a bit of a headache from the wine the night before. A few sips of tea triggered my need to pass water. My couche-culottes were dry, but I was sure that Mimi wanted to have one of our little melodramatic discussions about my bedwetting, given the timing of her visit and the cup of tea, which she knew would have a diuretic effect on me.

I sat up in bed and began to wet myself, a weak stream that would continue for quite a while. Mimi came back and sat on my bed.

"Did you sleep well last night, dear?"

"Oh yes, nanny…" I began, and, after a few pleasantries, I began acting out my part in our little game. I bowed my head, sniffed, and whined "…but… but I wet myself again, nanny. Oh, nanny, I‘m so ashamed. Ever since mommy left and I started wearing ladies clothes, I‘ve been bedwetting."

She adjusted her position on the bed, put her arm around me, and drew me to her breasts. She stroked my hair and whispered in her accent "There, there, mon chéri, it‘s alright. I know, my lovely, I know… You‘re going through such a difficult time. Don‘t worry… it‘s our little secret. No one needs to know about your bedwetting."

Her breasts smelled nice — she must have dabbed on some perfume. This was a new scene in our little play and I was quite taken by it; my nanny taking me to her breasts and petting me as I dampened my couche-culottes.

"Would you like me to check your couche-culottes?" she whispered, adding "I think I should."

"Yes… please, nanny. I don‘t want to wet my things."

"Of course not, dear, of course not."

She released me and I sat up on my knees and drew down my pajama bottoms. She examined my panties and garter suspenders.

"I‘m not sure, mon chéri… but I think you might have wet your things" she said in a concerned manner.

"Oh no, nanny… are you sure?" I whined.

"Draw down your panties, dear, and let me check further."

Down went my silk tap panties, revealing the nylon over plastic briefs.

"Lean over a bit, dear, so I can check…" she said gently. I leaned over, resting on my elbows, my derriá¨re elevated. I was still passing a weak stream of water but when I leaned over, my position allowed my stream to increase. She placed her hand on the back of the panties and pinched together a bit of the pantie briefs and the terrycloth panties beneath.

"Hmm… you are wet, aren‘t you, dear?"

"Am I nanny? Am I too wet?" I whined.

"One more little test…" she whispered. Her hand moved between my legs to where the absorbent wicking pad was located and clasped the pad to judge its weight. A shiver of pleasure went through me — did she have any idea what she was doing to me? I let out a little gasp followed by "Ohh…" She slowly withdrew her hand and placed it on my raised derriá¨re and gently patted and rubbed it. I let out another little gasp as I kept passing water.

"Tsk, tsk… you really wet yourself, didn‘t you? It‘s a good thing we checked you when we did; otherwise you would have wet your pretty things. We can‘t have that now, can we?"

"No nanny. What can we do? I‘m so embarrassed, nanny. Please don‘t tell anyone that I wet myself."

"Don‘t worry, dear. It‘s our little secret. No one needs to know that you‘re a bed-wetter. I‘ll take care of you. I think I should get you some different couche-culottes to wear, ones that will hold more and protect your things, okay?"

I had no idea what she had in mind, but I readily agreed, saying "Yes nanny. I think I need that."

"Let‘s take off your things and get you downstairs before you have an accident and wet your things" she said, taking off my pajama bottoms, guiding them past my knees as I lifted them, then doing the same with my tap panties. Then she unclasped my stockings and drew them off, commenting on how shapely my legs were and how the nightly application of lotion was having an effect. During all of this, I was kneeling, my knees and elbows on the bed and my derriá¨re elevated, passing an occasional weak stream of water, trying not to moan for the whole episode had a very erotic affect on me. This was a new level of intimacy between my nanny and me.

I carefully got out of bed. Mimi handed me my soft ribbed cotton pantie briefs, pajama bottoms, camisole, and slate blue cashmere and silk robe. "Go downstairs now, dear, and take care of your couche-culottes and things. I‘ll be down in a minute." Like the evening before, I noticed her nipples outlined by the fabric of her nightgown -- maybe she was affected as well?


An hour and a half later, I was ready for school. It was cold outside, and I wore a pair of brown corduroy slacks, my earth-tone brown Donegal knit crew neck sweater, and my navy blue wool pea coat. Beneath it all was my blue silk surah and white lace foundations, camisole, and tap panties, matched with black stockings. Mimi had selected these things while I took a shower; when I came out to dress, the underthings were neatly placed on the ottoman with a damask pantie napkin on top.

Mimi‘s final words before dropping me off at school were "Don‘t forget — you‘ll be dressing nicely for work today."


I don‘t know how I made it through my two classes. The morning‘s episode kept going through my mind as I sat in class. I became aroused just thinking about it and I‘d catch myself, snap back to reality, and then drift off again. I was getting rather creamy — my slight hangover and the fact that I hadn‘t creamed for over a day was keeping my pantie napkin moist. I wondered about Mimi and me — the fact that her nipples had become hard — was she aroused as well? And how she had shown me her breasts the evening before, and snuggled my head on them that morning — what exactly were her intentions? I couldn‘t fathom intimate contact between us, anything remotely romantic. She was older than my mother! She was almost family! Sure, she was attractive, but, but… But what did I know? I was a complete virgin; I‘d never even kissed a girl. Confusion was an understatement.


Mimi arrived on schedule to pick me up. She had changed her clothes; she was dressed in her white lace-band collar blouse, long black rayon skirt with attached self-tie waist sash, and a black wool swing coat. I had to compliment her — she looked marvelous.

"Your mommy called today. We had a nice chat. I was so good to talk to her" she said as we drove away. "I said you were starting to come out of your shell and just beginning to accept yourself as a lady."

’Just starting?‘ I thought to myself. The last week had been beyond anything I could have imagined — things were moving so quickly.

"She‘s really happy that you are. She wants me to ’keep moving you in the right direction‘ she said, and to do whatever I felt was needed."

I wondered what mother would think about some of the things Mimi was doing with me. I couldn‘t think of a reply. A moment later she said "Oh, and by the way, we chatted a bit about Melanie. She‘s really a nice, accepting person, don‘t you think? Both your mommy and I think that being a librarian really suits you… Miss Evelyn the librarian."

I felt numb, wondering what was in store for me when I got home.


I had a quick lunch — eating was difficult given the butterflies in my stomach. Just as docile as could be, I followed her upstairs to my boudoir. The side-buttoned charcoal gray wool and silk Armani slacks hung from the dressing screen. On the loveseat were the off-white mohair, angora, and merino wool turtleneck and the dove gray alpaca surplice wrap cardigan. On the floor were the black velvet Sabrina heeled pumps. Laid out on my bed were the pewter gray satin brassiere and waspie, the shimmering silver gray jacquard a ecru bobbin lace trimmed camisole and tap pantie, and a pair of black French heel silk stockings. Draped over the back of the slipper chair, borrowed from my mother, was a long beige silk scarf with a cream colored checked pattern. On the vanity top were my antique silver filigree hair clip, a pair of silver strand earrings of mother‘s, and a silver scarf clip. Draped over the wingback chair was mother‘s three quarter length black wool shawl collar coat with self-tie belt, a pair of deep burgundy kid leather gloves, and a big deep burgundy leather shoulder bag, large enough to be used as a book bag.

"Mimi... Eww…" I whined upon taking in the ensemble. The sweaters were the same as I had worn for Mimi that first day, the soft and feminine signal that I wanted her to help me become a lady. But the slacks were even more feminine than the ones I wore that day! And black velvet pumps! How could she? Was she expecting me to wear the scarf too?

"Now, now, Evelyn; we want our lovely librarian to dress appropriately" she answered. "Please don‘t make a fuss."

"But Mimi — what about Melanie?" I lisped.

"Oh, I think she‘ll be most understanding. From what your mommy told me, she already knows you like dressing up. Don‘t you think it‘s time you showed her? Really, Evelyn, I was thinking I should have you wear a dress, so you should consider yourself lucky that I settled on these things."

I fussed a bit more — pointing out that someone else I knew might show up — a classmate or something. We made a compromise; Mimi would allow me to take the argyle sweater that matched the slacks, and I could change into them in case someone did show up.

I acquiesced — what else could I do? Maybe everything would be alright. Within a few minutes, my mood was back to where it was that morning — all creamy and dreamy. I went from fussing with Mimi to being her docile little pet.

She watched me undress from my school clothes, taking them from me and casually tossing them into my ’other‘ room. I removed my stockings and camisole and let Mimi unclasp my brassiere and garter belt. She then sent me behind the dressing screen where she had laid out a pair of white silk panties, a damask pantie napkin, and the shaping pantie on the ottoman. The garter clasps were removed from the shaping pantie — I‘d use the waspie to hold up my stockings. When I came out from behind the screen she had me dust myself with body powder, then stood me in front of the mirror and began dressing me. She wrapped the waspie around my waist and fastened the hooks. The combination of the shaping pantie and the waspie gave me a nice hourglass shape, she said. The brassier was next, followed by the tap pantie, which she held open for me to step into. I had expected her to let me draw the pantie up, but to my surprise, she drew it up instead, whispering "It‘s okay… let me, mon chéri - since you‘re wearing a girdle." The camisole followed — I held my hands over my head and she guided it down. Then I sat on the slipper chair and as she rolled my stockings and handed them to me. After unrolling the stockings up my leg, I stood and held the stocking up while she clasped them to the garter suspenders.

The slacks were next, followed by the turtleneck, the waist worn outside the slacks. The lightweight fabric of the turtleneck wasn‘t enough to obscure the camisole beneath. The cups of the brassiere formed a discernable little bump. But the surplice wrap cardigan hid my underthings from view. I was glad to see that the long billowy slacks mostly covered the black velvet pumps. The scarf and scarf clip was followed with the earrings. Mimi gently gathered stands of hair from my temple and clasped them back with the hair barrette, leaving a few locks of hair to cover the silver strand earrings. She convinced me to put on a bit of neutral lip gloss and a hint of powder — it would protect my lips and skin against the cold dry air, she said.

The dressing went quickly and before I knew it, we were adding things to the big shoulder bag; my sachets, makeup, and the argyle sweater that Mimi let me take in case of an emergency. Just before leaving the room, Mimi went to my closet and retrieved the pleated skirt that matched my slacks and the pettislip that matched my camisole and tap pantie.

"Just in case you have a chance to change" said Mimi, carrying the two hangers holding the garments.

Then I was outside, walking Mimi‘s car, mother‘s long black wool coat tied around me, kid leather gloves on my hands, the bag over my shoulder. As I walked to the car, a little unsteady in my heels, I relished the feel of the full legs of the slacks sliding past my silk stockings, knowing that the movement of the exquisite fabric was a delight to the eye. Mimi draped the skirt and pettislip across the back seat.


Our arrival at the library was inauspicious. Mimi came in with me and Melanie appeared a minute later, coming out of her office escorting one of the docents to the door. She was nicely dressed in a blue patchwork two-piece that complemented her silver hair. She was glad to see Mimi and invited us for coffee. We followed into her office, the sound of my heels clicking on the hardwood floor wear heard clearly over Mimi‘s heels and Melanie‘s flat heels.

"Cold outside, isn‘t it?" Melanie offered. "You can put your coats on the rack" she said, motioning to the coat rack in the corner where her own coat was hung. I removed my gloves while Mimi took off and hung her coat.

"Let me help you dear" said Mimi as I fumbled with the self-tie belt of my mother‘s coat.

’This is it‘ I thought, my mind racing — I was facing Melanie as she sat in her comfortable stuffed chair; Mimi was behind me, ready to help me out of my coat. I felt a little faint and exhaled as the coat came off, revealing my oh-so-soft dressing to Melanie. Her eyes followed me as Mimi and I poured our coffee and sat down on the couch. She smiled broadly and said "My, but just look at you — you‘re dressed very nicely today, dear."

"Thank you, Melanie" I replied, my voice soft, my head bowed.

"I love that sweater — so soft and pretty. What kind of wool is it, dear?"

"I believe its alpaca" I replied.

"Well, it‘s lovely dear. And that‘s a beautiful scarf — it goes so nicely with your sweaters" she added. "And that‘s a pretty skirt and blouse you‘re wearing, Mimi. You two make quite a pair."

Mimi patted me on the knee and replied "Why thank you, Melanie. I‘m trying to be supportive of Evelyn — excuse me — that‘s his middle name — did you know? I prefer to use ’Evelyn‘ when he dresses up. I understand that Ellen told you that Evelyn is going through a phase, no?"

"Yes, she mentioned something" she replied, her voice earnest, waiting for a reply with interest.

"Well" continued Mimi "…you see, Evelyn has always been attracted to dressing up in ladies clothes, and seems so much happier when he‘s all dressed up as a lady… aren‘t you dear?" she said, turning to me and stroking my hair. I didn‘t answer for a moment, so Mimi added "Hmm? Don‘t you dear?"

"Yes" I sighed.

"How sweet" said Melanie. My mind did a tumble — was she going to accept me? "I always thought you‘d make a pretty girl, Evelyn," she continued "and that maybe you should try being a girl. Someone as gentle and sensitive and artistic as you shouldn‘t have to go through life trying to be something you aren‘t. Besides, I‘ve become to think of you as a girl and there‘s no reason you shouldn‘t dress as one."

A wave of relief swept over me — Melanie understood and seemed to be supportive. "Thank you, Melanie… thank you so much for understanding" I replied, looking up for the first time. She was sitting with her chin in her hand, her elbow on her knee, examining me, and giving me her full attention.

"So while Ellen is away," continued Mimi after a moment "I‘ve been encouraging him to come out. In fact, you‘ve dressed up every day since your mother left, haven‘t you Ellen?"

"Yes" I replied bashfully, bowing my head again.

"Really?" Melanie asked.

"Oh yes" Mimi replied, "as soon as he‘s home from school, its straight upstairs and out of his schoolboy clothes and into a nice dress and stockings and heels and makeup and jewelry…"

"Oh, my" Melanie interjected, as if this was pleasing to hear, while I let out a moan of embarrassment.

"Yes" continued Mimi. "She… he… whatever… She dresses so very meticulously and tastefully. She‘s quite beautiful, Melanie. You should see her sometime."

"I‘d like that" she offered, then a moment later said "You know, next week is Halloween week — maybe you should wear a costume next week, Evelyn; dress up as a proper librarian. Would you like to do that, dear?"

I was ecstatic that she thought of the very thing I wanted. "Oh yes, Melanie. You wouldn‘t mind?" I asked hopefully.

"Not at all dear — it‘s up to you."

"What a great idea" Mimi interjected. "You‘ve got several dressings you can draw upon, Evelyn."

Melanie seemed pleased to hear this, adding "It will be nice to have a girl working with me."

"Oh, this is wonderful news, Melanie" Mimi said. "It‘s important that Evelyn gets out more." She paused for a moment then asked "You know that Ellen is moving to the Hamptons?"

"Yes — and I‘ll miss her — and you, too, Evelyn" replied Melanie.

"Well, we‘re thinking that she‘ll want be a full-time girl once she does— we‘ll see."

This was news to me! I let out a little ’oh?‘ I didn‘t know whether Mimi was saying this because it was true, or as a justification for what she said next.

"So while she‘s here, we just want her to become more comfortable going out as a girl. But we do have to take some precautions — Evelyn doesn‘t want everyone to know, especially her classmates and such."

"That‘s understandable" replied Melanie. "I‘m glad you trusted me, Evelyn. And, I guess, this is a perfect place to practice — I doubt you‘ll see any of your classmates here" she chuckled. Then, as an afterthought, she added "Too bad you didn‘t bring a dress today. But I daresay, you‘re so ladylike in your sweaters, slacks, and heels."

Mimi smiled and said "Oh — but Evelyn, your skirt is in the car, remember?"

Melanie smiled broadly and said "Would you like to go get it and put it on, dear?"

I looked at Mimi and then Melanie. Everything in their expressions said I should. Mimi handed me her keys.

"Yes… yes I would" I replied, smiling for the first time. "Thank you so much, Melanie. I‘ll be back in a minute."


I rose and put on my coat and went to the car, heels clicking and reverberating in the empty library. Trancelike, I retrieved the skirt and pettislip from Mimi‘s car and returned to Melanie‘s office.

Mimi and Melanie were laughing about something when I came back in. Melanie suggested I change in the downstairs bathroom — it was large and had a chair. I removed my coat, took my bag, and left. Mimi called behind me "Don‘t forget to add a little padding, dear."

A few minutes later, I had changed into the pettislip and skirt, padded my brassiere, and made up my face. I put the slacks and the argyle sweater on the hangers and hung them on the coat rack as I entered Melanie‘s office.

Melanie‘s reaction was wonderful: "Oh… my… goodness, Evelyn; just look at you sweetheart! You are… are so so pretty!" she exclaimed, her broad smile dimpling her pleasant round face, her eyes bright.


The next couple of hours were wonderful. After a minute or so of effusive compliments on my appearance and ’natural feminine grace‘, all pretense disappeared and I was just Miss Evelyn, the pretty assistant librarian. We chatted as we finished our coffee, and then Mimi left, saying she had errands to run.

Just after Mimi left, Melanie went over a ’just in case scenario‘ as she described it. She and Mimi had talked about it, she said — I took my slacks and sweater up to my office on the third floor and returned downstairs. In case anyone I knew came in, I could go upstairs and change into the slacks and sweater. Melanie then had me help her put up some Halloween decorations and do some filing and re-shelving. I was absolutely delighted that someone besides Mimi knew my secret and accepted me. Melanie was fun to be with and for the first time since mother left, I felt free of Mimi‘s clutches. My feeling of independence and acceptance was cathartic — it felt so wonderful. Melanie was quick to realize my feelings and said that I seemed happy for the first time since she met me.


It was around half past three o‘clock when we heard a car pull up outside. Melanie looked and saw that it was one of the docents escorting an older lady. She said she doubted I knew either of them. Rather than dealing with introductions, I went upstairs to do some shelving.

A half an hour or so later, Melanie called me on the intercom. I was expecting her to tell me the visitors had left, but instead she said calmly "Evelyn — I‘m in my office — I think one of your teachers is here — that one I met at the concert. She‘s looking for a particular book from our new collection. I‘ll be sending her upstairs in a minute."

My heart stopped for a moment. I said something and hung up the phone; so much for my wonderful afternoon as Miss Evelyn.

Into the bathroom I went, hurriedly taking off my heels, skirt, pettislip, scarf, sweater set, brassiere, earrings, and hair clip, then washing the makeup off my face. I heard footsteps coming up the stairwell. I quickly donned the slacks and argyle sweater. I debated whether I should wear the heels, but going without would have meant tripping on the cuffs of the slacks and frigid feet. One last check in the bathroom mirror told me I might be passable as a boy. I put my disrobed things into the closet in my office, and then sat down at my desk and opened the schoolbook I brought with me to look as if I was studying.


My office door was part way open and she knocked, poking her head in. She didn‘t expect to see me. "Why, hello Dale" she said with surprise, opening the door the rest of the way. "I didn‘t expect to find you. What a pleasant surprise." She was dressed as she had been for school, in black slacks and an ivory cowl-neck sweater.

"Oh, hi there, Ms. Hunter… Yea… I actually work here one day a week" I replied.

"So — you‘re the assistant librarian that Melanie said could help me?" she asked, seemingly mystified.

"Yep… that‘s me" I replied, trying to sound calm and collected.

"Sorry. I guess I was expecting a girl" she said. I blushed.


She was there to find a particular book by one of the town‘s long-gone historians and poets. She asked me to help her find it.

"Sure, right this way."

Nervously, I rose from my desk, praying she wouldn‘t notice my dressing or heels. Shuffling my feet, trying to keep my heels from clicking, I led her to the section with the book she wanted. She was walking behind me.

"So, how long have you been working here?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, two or three months" I replied.

"Good for you. I think it‘s wonderful that you work as a librarian."

I found the book she wanted. She browsed through it for a moment then asked me if there was somewhere where she could sit and look at the books. I showed her the two big overstuffed chairs by the window.

She sat down and studied the books for a few minutes as I went back to my office. Then she reappeared at my door and said pleasantly "I found what I wanted. Why don‘t you come and sit with me for a few minutes?"

I sat in the chair next to her and kept my feet beneath it, trying to hide my black velvet pumps.


We talked for almost an hour. We started chatting about class work, and the topic ended when she said "That‘s a beautiful sweater you‘re wearing — I‘m jealous. And your slacks, too — they‘re so, um, dressy… and the fabric looks beautiful."

I blushed and mumbled something about mother insisting that I dress nicely for work.

"Well, you‘ve certainly got some nice things."

She changed the topic and talked about music, then rambled around a bunch of other topics. What a combination she was! — Beauty and brains. I never could connect with my classmates on an intellectual level, but I could with Ms. Hunter. She was smart and witty and we were developing a repartee. We started talking about family. She asked me a bit about my mother, asking if she ever did any modeling, for she was so pretty. Then she told me about her family. She was ’now‘ an only child — she used to have a younger brother, but he died of a drug overdose. I expressed my sympathy. She told me how much she missed him and that I reminded her of him in many ways. "He was such a sweet and gentle boy, just like you" she said, adding "It was awful losing him and it destroyed our family. And all because of…" she trailed off; obviously, the memory was painful. Then she caught herself and finished with "Sorry… maybe some other time I‘ll feel comfortable talking about it."

We chatted a few more minutes. It was getting dark outside and getting near closing time. She stood to leave, saying she needed to get back home to grade some papers. She said she enjoyed talking with me, how nice it was to talk to such an intelligent and good listener — it had been years since she had such a good conversation with someone so sensitive and understanding. The last time, she said with a quivering voice, was when her brother was still alive.

She gave me an innocent kiss — a peck, really — on my cheek just before turning to leave.

"You smell really nice" she said, then turned and left.

I was staggered and numb. We had talked for an hour and the whole time I felt tingly. I had a crush on her, just like every other boy at school. If she only knew… or did she know? …that the whole time I was sitting there beside her I was completely crossdressed, wearing lacy intimates, ladies slacks and sweater, high-heel pumps. I didn‘t have long to ruminate on it, for Melanie buzzed me on the intercom after Ms. Hunter left.

"Did everything go alright, dear?" she asked.

"Uh, yea… We found her book and talked for a while."

"She seemed happy when she left, humming to herself. She‘s such a beautiful lady, don‘t you think?"

"Yes. Yes she is."

Melanie was closing up in a few minutes, so I could come downstairs whenever I wanted.

I changed back into the brassiere and padding, the skirt and sweaters, touched up my makeup and went back downstairs.


Melanie gave me a ride home. On the way home, I thanked her profusely for everything. "Don‘t thank me, Evelyn. It is me that should be thanking you — I had a wonderful time with you today dear."

When she pulled up to the house, Mimi came outside and insisted that she come in, offering her dinner.

"Sure — I‘d love to" said Melanie with a bit of hesitation. "You know I love your cooking, Mimi. But I can‘t tonight — I have a meeting I‘ve got to go to and I need to go home and get ready. Can I take a rain check?"

"Of course — how about Friday? We‘d love to have you over. You don‘t need to bring anything" replied Mimi.

"Friday it is. I‘ll come over after work."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Mimi.


We had an early dinner and talked about the day and what a wonderful, accepting, and loving person Melanie was. I asked Mimi about her comment about me living as a girl once we moved to the Hamptons. She said she had said it mainly for Melanie‘s benefit but that it was something that we should discuss some other time. In the meantime, I shouldn‘t dwell on it. The big discussion was what I should wear to work next week. Mimi really wanted me to wear the poet‘s blouse, but wasn‘t sure what skirt I should wear — the black taffeta skirt was far too formal for a daytime dressing — perhaps mother had a skirt? I thought she might, I offered — a nice intermission length pleated black silk and wool skirt.

"We‘ll see, dear. Let‘s set aside some time between now and then to decide on your dressing" she said.

I told Mimi about Ms. Hunter, revealing as little as possible about her visit, other than I was relieved I was able to change into the sweater and slacks, and Ms. Hunter didn‘t say anything about the way I was dressed.

We made plans for the next day — Mimi wanted to drop me off at school early for she wanted to do some shopping in the city, saying "There‘s some particular things I need to pick up, but I thought I‘d splurge a little and buy myself some new clothes while I‘m at it." She might be back late and I should try to get a ride home if possible.

I was emotionally spent. I went to bed early, drained from everything that happened that day; the erotic morning with Mimi, having my couche-culottes felt as I was passing water, the tantalizing dressing for work followed by Melanie‘s acceptance and approval, knowing that I‘d be dressing as a lady librarian for Halloween and possibly after, Mimi‘s comment about me living full-time as a girl when we moved to the Hamptons. And, most of all, the whole encounter with Ms. Hunter and how well it went.

I went upstairs and did my nighttime routine of applying lotions and such. I wore my blue silk surah negligee and short robe. Mimi brought my bedtime tea just as I was sitting down at the vanity to brush my hair.

She was still dressed in her white blouse and long black rayon skirt.

I sat facing the vanity mirror, and Mimi sat on the tuffet behind me. She began to brush my hair. She was silent at first, sensing my mood. Then she began talking, barely above a whisper, slipping into a heavy French accent. She told me I was pretty, that my hair was beautiful, that I was her dear sweet princess, and that she loved being my nanny. Mesmerized with my reflection in the mirror and the simple pleasure of having my hair gently brushed, I became rather aroused beneath my couche-culottes.

"I really enjoyed being with you this morning, mon chéri. I like it that you and I share the secret of your bedwetting and that we can discuss it together. It brings us much closer, no? And that‘s important. It‘s our little secret, isn‘t it? And don‘t worry, dear, I won‘t tell anyone else. I don‘t want to tell anyone else — I want it to be our secret and no one else‘s."

She finished brushing my hair then pulled it back and tied it with the white silk ribbon, looping it around my cascading ponytail so it wouldn‘t get mussed in bed. She rose and turned down my bed and fluffed the pillows, then stood beside it, beckoning me to come to bed. I removed my robe, sat on the bed, and as I began to swing my legs up, she supported them so that my negligee wouldn‘t fold and bunch beneath my legs. I snuggled in and she drew the covers over me and tucked me in, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek.

"Pleasant dreams, my princess" she whispered. She turned out the lights and closed the door behind her.

It didn‘t take long before I creamed. Considering how long it had been since my last creaming, I was a little disappointed — it wasn‘t the toe-tingler I was expecting; I guess it was because I was so tired. So tired, in fact, that I didn‘t bother going to the bathroom to pass water -- I spent the night in wet couche-culottes.


Wednesday

There wasn‘t any time for our morning melodrama as we were leaving early. I woke early, took care of my couche-culottes, showered, and then dressed in my white silk charmeuse foundations and daywear, adding a couple of lacy panties for fun. Mimi helped me choose my outerwear, saying it was cold outside. I wore my black corduroy slacks, a heather gray cable-knit cashmere mock turtleneck sweater of my mothers, an earth-toned soft flannel shirt, my pair of black leather lace-up boots, and my navy blue wool pea coat. After a quick breakfast, Mimi dropped me off at a coffee shop near school as I had an hour or more before my first class.

I met up with Ms. Hunter as I walked to her class. She greeted me warmly and told me that she really enjoyed her time with me the day before. She was dressed in a beautiful brown sweater dress beneath her long black coat and I knew that most of the boys in the room were fantasizing about her during class.

Orchestra practice had been cancelled the week before, but since I was absent, I didn‘t know. So I had lunch off campus, then went to the school library and caught up on all my homework and turned in my assignments. I was able to get a ride home mid-afternoon and I called Mimi on her cell phone to let her know. She was still in the city and wouldn‘t be back until after dinner.

"You should take a nice nap, dear" she said just before hanging up.

I took her advice and went upstairs to my boudoir and had a delightful creaming, letting my cries and moans reverberate in the empty house.

Afterwards, I dressed in the velvet burn-out dress and came downstairs with some laundry. The new camera we had ordered had arrived and I spent an hour or so trying it out so that I could show Mimi how it worked. I made dinner, did a little ironing, and was about ready to start my nighttime routine when Mimi arrived. She was a bit frazzled from the day. I doted on her, fixing her some tea as she relaxed on the couch and watched some television. I asked her about her about her day. I didn‘t know what her errands were in the city, nor did I ask directly, but she offered that she had gone to a couple of specialty shops and done a little shopping for herself, among other things. She seemed pleased with her day.

I showed her the new camera and she tried it out.

"Oh, this is fabulous, Evelyn. You made a good choice" she said after a few minutes of using it. "Perhaps you‘ll let me photograph you wearing some of your intimates, no?" she asked with a wink. I let the suggestion slide, but was secretly looking forward to it.

I told her about getting all my homework done and my assignments turned in, and then suggested that I could just stay home the next day. She readily agreed. "I‘ll be working tomorrow, but I don‘t have to leave until late morning. I‘ll be able to bring you your morning tea" she offered. I couldn‘t help but think that she was hinting that we could play our little morning melodrama.

The evening ended in my boudoir with me in my white crepe-de-chine chemise, dance pantie, and long robe and Mimi in her tartan robe and creamy white ballet dress. As she had done the night before, she brushed my hair, sitting on the tuffet behind me, then turned down my bed, fluffed my pillows, guided me into bed, and tucked me in.


Thursday

I woke when I heard Mimi coming up the stairs. She soon appeared, carrying a tray with a pot of tea, scones, fruit, and yogurt. She was still wearing her tartan robe. As I sat up in bed, she poured a cup of tea and handed it to me, saying "I‘ll be back in ten minutes or so, dear, and we can discuss your day. But I‘ve got something new I want to change into first."

As soon as she left, I got up and brushed out my hair and put on a bit of makeup and a dab of perfume, sipping the tea and recognizing the taste of Mimi‘s special blend. It didn‘t take long before I was pausing to wet myself — after all, my couche-culottes needed to be at least a little wet when Mimi came back. I got back in bed, my robe tied loosely, and sat up with my legs tucked to my side, the covers drawn up to my waist, sipping my second cup of tea.

Mimi arrived shortly. She was wearing a beautiful new robe made of a powder blue rayon foulard. The robe was a long kimono style with royal blue satin trim on the sleeve cuffs and neckline, embroidered vines in contrasting blue colors, and tied with a royal blue satin sash. She had primped a bit as well, brushing her hair and putting on some lipstick.

"That‘s gorgeous, nanny" I said softly.

"Why thank you, dear. I bought it yesterday along with some other things" she said, smiling. "I‘m glad you like it. Let me show you the nightgown" she said nonchalantly, untying the sash and opening the robe. The empire waist nightgown had the same powder blue rayon foulard fabric. The bodice was light blue pleated georgette over white lace netting with a bit of a surplice wrap. The waist was decorated with a royal blue satin ribbon tied in a bow with long streamers and the long skirt had the same embroidered vine design as the robe. The bodice fabric barely concealed her breasts and I must have stared slack-jawed for a moment before she asked if I liked it.

"Oh, it‘s beautiful nanny" I said, trying to think of something more to say, finally coming up with "…I‘m jealous…"

"You‘re so sweet" she said, sitting down on the bed so that she faced me. She fluffed up a pillow and put it behind me, adding to the pile I was leaning against. She filled my tea cup and handed it to me. I drank most of the cup as she brushed back a bit of my hair and gave me a concerned look as she asked "How are you dear? Did you have problems last night?"

I set the cup down on the nightstand the whispered "Yes… yes I did nanny," looking down. "I… I wet myself again."

"Oh, you poor thing" she said, her voice playfully dripping with sympathy.

And so our morning melodrama began.

I hadn‘t planned on the turn of events that happened next. The familiar pre-release chill came over me quite quickly and rather than just hiding the act of passing water, I decided, on the spur of the moment, to spice things up.

"Nanny?" I whined, biting my thumbnail "I… I have to go…"

"What do you mean, dear?" she asked, again with a playful but concerned tone.

"I… I have to go… you know… go and pass water… the tea, you know…" I said, my voice faltering. I shifted my position, preparing to leave the bed and go to the toilet.

She let my words hang in the air for a moment or two. I detected a wry smile as she gently stroked my shoulder and in a soft voice said "But we were just getting comfortable, mon chéri. Wouldn‘t you rather stay here with me?"

"Uh huh" I whispered.

"Are you very wet?" she asked.

"Umm… not really, nanny" I replied, wondering if she was going to invite me to wet myself as she sat with me.

"Well then… if your couche-culottes can take more wetness, couldn‘t you just wet in them and stay here with me instead?"

"Oh" I whispered, twisting a bit of my hair around my finger, my eyes wide. "I guess so… I could do that, nanny… I mean, if you don‘t mind…"

"Of course I don‘t mind, dear" she replied sweetly. "Are you close, dear? Close to wetting yourself?" she asked, gently rubbing my shoulder and then fingering the lace lapel of by robe. Her eyes were searching mine.

"Yes, nanny… very close…" I replied in a quavering moan.

"Go ahead dear… let it go…" she whispered, adding "…it‘s alright dear… I understand…"

The moment arrived. I drew my breath and quivered, my eyes rolling back for a second. The release came and I exhaled "Oh… oh nanny."

"That‘s right… let it go…"

"Oh" I moaned, inhaling, and then letting out a satisfying sigh. She watched me intently for a moment.

"Perhaps we should look" she whispered as she began slowly rolling back the bed cover to expose my dance panties. "After all, you don‘t want to wet your things, do you?" When she finished rolling back the covers, she whispered "open your robe, dear… let me see."

I pulled the streamers of the knot around my sash and opened my robe, sitting up a bit as I did. Mimi was looking down at my waist, contentedly humming to herself. The chemise covered most of the dance panties.

"Raise your chemise so I can see, dear" she said, clasping the hem of the chemise and lifting it up off the dance panties. I instinctively took the hem and pulled it up to the waistline of the panties.

"Oh nanny — it‘s just starting, nanny" I moaned, both of us looking down at my panties.

"Are you having trouble letting go, dear?"

"Uh huh… maybe a little, nanny."

"Try and relax. Maybe if you sat up a bit…"

I straightened up so that my legs were beneath me, facing Mimi, holding up my chemise to fully show my panties, looking down. My robe fell from my shoulders.

"Maybe this will help" she said, running her finger down nape of my neck, causing me to quiver. I gave a little gasp, but said nothing. Everything was still and quiet in the house, just my nanny and me in my bed, both dressed in our bed things, both of us fixated on having me pass water into my couche-culottes.

Mimi stroked my neck for a long moment, and then asked "You‘re having difficulties, aren‘t you dear?"

"Uh-huh."

"Here…" she said, shifting our positions so that she was now behind me. She put one arm around my shoulder and the other on the side of my head, and then guided me to her breasts. She stroked my hair.

"There, there, dear… It‘s all right… let it go…"

I noticed that her nipples had become pronounced. I put my hand on her shoulder. My index finger glided along the strap of her nightgown for a moment or two. She patted my head and stroked my hair and I was able to finally empty myself.

"Umm…" I purred, "I‘m doing better now, nanny." I had passed most of my water and was now at the point where I couldn‘t tell if I was still wetting myself.

"How are your couche-culottes, dear? Are they very wet?" she asked in a soothing voice.

"Uh-huh" I purred.

"Maybe we should check you now."

"Alright" I replied. She unfolded her embrace and guided me back to a sitting position. She had me lift my chemise again to expose my dance panties.

"Oh nanny… I hope my panties aren‘t wet" I lisped.

She fingered the stocking suspenders and the hems of my panties.

"So far so good, princess" she said, looking up. "Take your panties down for me."

I slowly drew down my panties to expose the plastic panties. She repositioned herself and had me lean over, my elbows on the bed, my derriá¨re elevated. She gathered my robe and let it fold and fall off the small of my back. I turned my head towards the mirror and had a full view of myself and Mimi through the strands of my falling hair. Her hand glided down to my derriá¨re cheek. She wasn‘t looking in the mirror and I watched her expression as she glanced over me, a smile on her face. With her other hand, she gently stroked the skin between her cleavage and then brushed her fingers across the hard nipple of her breast, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh.

"Oh nanny" I whispered "You were so right about me being a bed-wetter… I really do need to wear couche-culottes, don‘t I?"

"Yes, yes you do" she replied sympathetically. "But I knew that you would, dear."

As she had done the previous morning, she pinched together some of the plastic panties and the terrycloth and announced that I seemed quite wet. I was delighted when her hand slid down — she was going between my legs to investigate the pad.

"Oh nanny…" I lisped as her hand came to rest over the pad. She let it linger there.

"I‘m going to give your pad a squeeze, mon chéri… are you ready?"

"Yes, nanny…" I breathed.

She pinched the pad, releasing its warm contents. I moaned. She released it then pressed with two fingers firmly in the middle of the pad and walked them upwards along the length of the pad. When she reached the end of the pad, she continued walking her fingers up and over until she reached my waist. I gasped and moaned.

"Well, you are wet, aren‘t you?" she asked coyly, patting my derriere.

"Yes, nanny…"

"But I think you‘re safe for a little while longer; but if you have to go again, be sure to tell me, alright? In the meantime, let‘s take off your panties, just in case."

She slid my panties down to my knees, then had me lift one leg slightly, sliding the pantie down past my knee, and then repeated the procedure with my other leg. With the panties past my knees, she slid them past my ankles and off my legs. She smoothed them out on her lap and set them aside as I rose from my position. She helped me bring my robe back up to my shoulders. I sensed that the intimate part of our melodrama was coming to an end.

"When I was in the city yesterday, I visited a little specialty shop where I ordered some new couche-culottes for you. They are much more suitable for you than these. They should arrive in a few days, along with some other things. Until then, we‘ll just have to be careful that you don‘t wet yourself too much, alright?"

"Uh-huh" I replied, wondering what she meant by ’more suitable‘.

"Now… Evelyn? I‘m concerned about you being home all by yourself today. I really wish I could stay here with you all day and make sure you‘re staying on track and dressing as a suitable young lady. But I can‘t. So I‘ve been thinking: your mother bought you another pretty outfit before she left, but we decided not to give it to you right away, but to wait for a special occasion. I‘m thinking you could wear it for dinner with Melanie tomorrow evening."

"Really?" I replied, genuine excitement in my voice — a new dress!

"Yes, princess. And what I was thinking that if I give it to you today, I know you just won‘t be able to resist spending most of the day dressing up in it and choosing just the right accessories. I‘ll know that while I‘m away, you‘ll be dressing properly. I think it‘s a good idea, don‘t you?"

"Oh yes, nanny" I said, excited to have a new ensemble to try on. I asked her to describe the new outfit, but she wouldn‘t. Instead, she said she wanted to change the sheets on my bed and have me bathe.

We stripped the sheets off my bed then clothed it with the petal pink satin sheets and pillowcases. I took the sheets, along with a fresh pair of terrycloth panties, and went downstairs to clean up. Returning upstairs, I found that Mimi had started my bath. She said that while I was bathing, she‘d get ready for work then come and get me and, she said with a wink "…finish planning your day."

I ate the breakfast that Mimi had brought me earlier then slipped into the bathtub. I was so creamy and dreamy and full of delicious anticipation— my daintie was fully stimulated as I bathed — I had to control myself. After finishing my bath, I applied my lotions and powders, donned a fresh pair of terrycloth panties, wrapped myself in my warm terrycloth wrap, bathrobe, and turban, and sat down at my vanity to apply my foundation makeup.


Mimi soon arrived. She was wearing another new robe, dusty pink with black trim, made of a soft fabric that looked like a cashmere blend. She explained that it was something else she had purchased in the city the day before.

"Would you mind helping me finish dressing, dear?" she asked as she stood behind me at the vanity. I followed her into my mother‘s room. On mother‘s bed lay a purple sweater, Mimi‘s gray pleated skirt, and a full slip. The soft sweater had a surplice bodice, full length raglan sleeves, and knit with a flattering ribbing. The full slip was a hot pink jacquard satin with black lace accents.

I sat at my mother‘s vanity and watched as she removed her robe, revealing a new set of foundations — pink with ornate black lace; a demi-cup brassiere, a long waist-cincher, and briefs, matched with a pair of black stockings. "It‘s a new set… do you like it dear?" she asked, taking a seductive turn.

"Oh, nanny…" I lisped. She just smiled.

I noticed that her waist cincher was not clasped properly in the back so I offered to fix it for her. It required that I unclasp the top half and start over, struggling with the hook and eye clasps.

"Here — be a dear and help me with this" she said, handing me the slip. I stood in front of her, rolled the slip, and guided it onto her outstretched arms and onto her shoulders, positioning the straps as I did, then took the hem and drew it down her body.

She had me open her skirt and kneel on the floor as she stepped into it. She drew it up while I held the hem of her slip. Then I moved behind her and brought the skirt to her waist and zipped it. She drew the sweater over her head and I helped guide it down and adjust it.

"You look fabulous, nanny" I said honestly. "That sweater is so pretty on you."

"Thank you dear. I‘m glad you think so. It‘s important to me. Your mommy wouldn‘t mind if I borrowed one of her necklaces and maybe a scarf, would she?"

"Of course not" I replied. She sat down at the vanity while I picked out a few things for her to try, settling on a necklace made with variegated purple silk ribbon with a long triangular pendent made of gold and pink colored glass. We tried a couple of scarves but decided they detracted from the sweater. Then I helped her into her black suede pumps, kneeling on the floor in front of her.

"It‘s so nice to have a fine young lady attend to me" she said. She stood and took a few turns and asked "How do I look, dear? Do you approve of how your nanny looks?"

"Oh, yes nanny!" I blurted out.

"Wonderful! You know, I think you should start suggesting what I should wear more often. You have such good tastes. And when we‘re here by ourselves, I think you have the right to suggest something you want me to wear. Is it a deal?"

"Okay… Sure… I‘d love to, nanny" I replied a bit cautiously, adding "I think you always dress wonderfully."

"That‘s good. But I‘m always open to suggestions. Just tell me what you like. I like wearing my sets for you" she said as she moved toward the door. "Now, dear, you wait right here while I fetch your new ensemble and bring it to your room. Then I‘ll come get you."

She kissed me on the cheek and left me. She had left her robe on the bed and I inspected it — it was a wonderful blend of cashmere, wool, and nylon, so delectably soft. I was glad for Mimi — glad that she enjoyed nice things as I did. I sat at the vanity and unwrapped the turban from around my hair. I slowly combed my hair, waiting on pins and needles for my nanny to come and get me.

The knock came and she took me by the hand down the hallway to my boudoir. "I just know you‘re going to love this, Evelyn. And I won‘t have to worry about you while I‘m away today, either; I know you‘ll be dressing up all nice and pretty and not upsetting yourself about other things."


Hanging on a padded hanger on the dressing screen was a calf length black silk brocade wrap dress. The brocade pattern was of intertwined spirals that somehow suggested an oriental motif. The basis of the brocade was a lightweight velvety silk, and the jacquard pattern was shimmering blue-black. The dress was finished with one inch shimmering blue-black satin trim at the wrap of the bodice and the cuffs of the three-quarter length notched sleeves. The wrap closed with a big blue-black satin bow with two long streamers descending to the hem. A rhinestone buckle was fitted to the middle of the bow. On the floor beneath the dress was a pair of three inch black satin-finish Sabrina heel pumps, open toe, with white banding at all the seams. Next to the pumps was a matching rectangular clutch purse.

I squealed with delight as I took it down and held it up. "Oh nanny! It‘s beautiful!" I squealed. The dress was lighter weight than it looked — the hand of the fabric was like a whisper against my skin. Mimi stood behind me, smiling, saying "See? I knew you‘d love it." I hung it back on the dressing screen and gave Mimi a hug. She held me close, pulling my head to her breasts.


"That‘s not all dear" she said, releasing me. "Look on the bed".

There were two silver paper boxes on the bed, wrapped with silver tulle ribbon. There was also a small bag with pink tissue puffed out the top.

"Come, let‘s sit while you open them" she said, making her way to the bed and sitting down. I sat next to her and she handed me the first box. I untied the ribbon and let out a little cry as I lifted a black negligee made of a shimmering black jacquard material with profuse antique white Rosaline lace trim at the bodice and hems. It had a plunging back with delicate crisscrossed straps. Beneath it was a matching cocoon jacket.

"Yes, it‘s a negligee — but it can double as a slip for your dress" she explained.

Stretching out on the bed, she handed me the next box. Inside was a backless and strapless brassiere, the front covering to the midriff with a hook and eye closure in the back, made of black satin with profuse white embroidery. I lifted the brassiere out of the box, and discovered a matching waspie beneath. I could see that the waspie and brassiere would slightly overlap each other to make it appear as almost one garment. Beneath the waspie were matching briefs and a tanga pantie. These treasures were followed with two pairs of black seamed stockings with Cuban heels and lace tops, one pair with an embroidered ivy design in black running up the side from toe to thigh.

The look in my eyes must have said everything. Beneath my terrycloth panties, my daintie was fully stimulated — I had to make sure that my robe hid what I was feeling.

Mimi handed me the colorful gift bag and I removed the pink tissue. First was a couple of music CDs, one titled "Private Dancing" and another titled "Rainy Day Romancing."

"Those are from me, mon chéri. I came across them yesterday and immediately thought of you" she said quietly.

"Oh nanny…" I whispered. I scanned over the descriptions and titles. Both promised romantic and seductive music for intimate moments and one proclaimed it was "music for lovemaking".

A velveteen jewelry box was next, containing a black onyx stone set — necklace, earrings, bracelet; each triangular onyx piece set off with sparkling rhinestones. Then a pair of black hair sticks with a big crystal bead on the ends followed by tufts of black marabou, a big red silk rose hair clip meant to wear on the side, and another hair clip, this one black organza ivy with lots of stems with sparking crystals at their ends.

"What do you think, dear?" asked Mimi coyly.

"Oh… oh nanny, I don‘t know what to say… thank you… thank you so much!" I blurted.

"That‘s alright precious — your eyes say everything."

She sat up and turned me towards her, gently stroked my arm and said "I want you to have fun today, princess — dressing up in your new things. Now… I don‘t want to see you wearing this when I get home this evening — save it for our dinner with Melanie tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes nanny. I‘ll wear something else for dinner tonight" I replied gratefully, for I didn‘t want to over-wear the ensemble.

"Now, before I go, would you let me help you into your new bra and waspie?"

I hesitated for a moment. The brassiere wasn‘t an issue — not anymore given the dressings she had gave me, but in order to put on the waspie, she might see what was going on beneath the terrycloth panties. She sensed my hesitation and said in a whisper "You are wearing panties, aren‘t you dear?"

"Uh huh" I breathed.

"Well then… I have an idea — you can lay on your tummy while I fasten up your waspie" she whispered with a smile. My immediate concern was that I‘d cream if I rolled onto my tummy. Maybe I‘d be able to calm my daintie, I thought.

She tugged at the sash that held my robe together, but it didn‘t loosen, so I took over, untying the sash and letting the robe fall from my shoulders. She slowly wrapped the brassiere around me and fastened it in the back. The waspie came next; my robe was all bunched around my waist so that she couldn‘t see my panties. She wrapped the waspie around me and clasped it at the top.

"Now lie on your tummy for me dear" she said very gently.

I managed to lie down without her seeing my stimulated state. She knelt to my side and I watched in the mirror as she swept my long hair aside and repositioned the waspie a little and began to fasten the hook and eye clasps. I concentrated on not letting the moment culminate with me creaming into my panties.

"Now, my dear, I want you to have a nice time today. I don‘t want you to dwell on any upsetting or unpleasant thoughts. You know what I mean — thoughts about your bedwetting problems or of being an inadequate boy, or being ashamed to be all dressed up in such pretty things. I want you to just enjoy being a well-kept young miss. And be sure you take a nice nap, too… in your big bed with its fine sheets and pillows. And don‘t forget to wear your couche-culottes when in bed — we don‘t want any bedwetting accidents now do we?"

"No nanny" I whispered.

She patted me on the derriere and said "That‘s a good little girl." She draped the chenille throw across me, then she rose and drew the curtains on the windows and moments later left the room.


I lay motionless on the bed, almost panting. I sensed Mimi‘s car drive off and I still didn‘t move. I looked at my refection in the mirror and my thoughts tumbled from one thing to another. I was completely under Mimi‘s spell — why was she doing these things to me? — or for me? There had to be another agenda to her actions other than to ’make me feel comfortable as a lady‘, something far more than mother could have planned on. Her sexual innuendos and actions were certainly an unexpected but welcome surprise, like how her nipples became hard, how she took me to her breasts, how she ’checked‘ my couche-culottes, the things she was dressing in, showing me her nightgowns and underthings, and encouraging me to take a nap, knowing full well what I would be doing with myself in bed with my pillows. I didn‘t know where it was all going, but every bit of me wanted to go there. Why was I letting her do these things to me? The answer to the last question was simple — because I was weak and submissive and every part of me adored being a well-kept young lady. There was no way I could resist, and that was the shameful part. I began to cry a little, disgusted with myself and what I was letting her do to me. Was it true what Mimi said? That my mother wanted me to live full-time as a girl when we moved to the Hamptons? What about my step-father? Would Mimi move with us and be my nanny?


I forced myself to stop thinking about these things and think about mundane boring things instead. I eventually drifted off to sleep for a few minutes, and my daintie finally relaxed.


After filling out my brassiere with my sachets, I drew my blue cashmere robe around me and immediately thought of Auntie. She, too, wanted me in fine dresses and lingerie. But she was a continent away and, compared to Mimi, had little influence on me.

I inserted the CDs in my stereo; the music was kind of new age with slow seductive beats and breathy female vocals that sometimes drifted into moans and sighs. It was unabashedly erotic, and I was stunned that Mimi had so nonchalantly given it to me.

I proceeded to dress in three phases. First I did the things that required attention to fine detail; making up and applying polish to my nails. I sat at my vanity and brought out my eyelashes as long and luxurious as I could, applied eyeliner and eyeshadow in hues ranging from dusty rose to charcoal to deep dark blue, and brushed on face powder that contained just a hint of sparkle. I sculpted my lips using a blush pink lip pencil and applied a layer of light pink moisturizing gloss. I would wait until later to finish with cheek blush and a deeper lip gloss. Then I polished my finger and toe nails deep red.

My next phase was to finish my underdressing and sit at the vanity doing my hair, the last of my makeup, and don my jewelry. But first, I partook of my hashish, taking several deep tokes. Oh my, but I was quite elevated when I began dressing. Off came the terrycloth panties, moist from my creamy daintie. On went the cashmere glove and the new tanga panties. With ’oohs‘ and ’ahhs‘, I slowly drew on the black stockings with the vine pattern and then matching briefs.

I was titching and moaning with the music as I slipped into the beautiful negligee, carefully negotiating the maze of delicate crisscrossing straps, almost swooning as the luscious fabric spilled over me. After admiring myself for a minute — the black fabric and white lace really accentuated my pale alabaster skin — I donned the cocoon jacket. Then I sat at the vanity I put my hair up in a loose bun, positioning and fixing the bun with the hair sticks. I used some mousse and curling iron to create profuse ringlet curls in the many strands of hair that were not caught by the bun. My thoughts had returned to Mimi and the upsetting thoughts she told me not to think about — my bedwetting, my inadequacies. Yes, I was such an inadequate boy — so much better suited to being a well-kept young lady.

The rhinestone and onyx jewelry came next and my mood began to change — I was reveling in the moment again, saying my O‘s. The music was really setting me off. I was so charged, so ready for the next phase. I brushed on soft pink cheek blush powder. I finished my lips in deep glistening red. What a memorable dressing it was that was unfolding.

To begin my final phase, I partook of just a little more hashish and a small glass of sherry. In the soft curtained light of my boudoir, I sat and put on the open-toed pumps. Such high heels! They fit perfectly — I was so lucky that my mother‘s shoe size and mine were the same.


It was time for the dress. I slipped into it without the benefit of a mirror, fastened the wrap and then the satin bow with the rhinestone buckle, my eye catching the long streamers as they fell to the hem of the dress. I smoothed out the dress and looked up, still avoiding the mirror. I took in my boudoir — the beautiful bed with my initials monogrammed on the bedcover and pillowcases, the satin sheets, the fine antique furnishings, the impossibly feminine porcelain figurines, and the framed photographs of a beautiful and fetching young lady in her finery. It was hard to believe it was me in the photographs.


The moment arrived. Taking the purse in one hand, I sashayed in rhythm to the music and presented myself to the mirrors.

"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 glow of the dim light. 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 daintie throbbing in her cashmere glove. I had intended to try some different accessories, and I knew that I‘d have to tone down the ensemble for dinner with Melanie. I had a couple of ideas. But accessorizing would have to wait until later, for ever so slowly, my movements brought me closer and closer to creaming. The house was empty, the neighbors far away, all else was still and quiet except for the exquisitely dressed lady dancing in the mirrors. My cries became louder and louder until a shuddering climax rent my entire being, sending me into a realm of ecstasy I only dreamed of existing.


It took some time to gather my wits. I had sullied my panties but, fortunately nothing else. My creaming had been so deeply satisfying and the memory of it made me smile broadly. I hummed happily as I undressed and slipped on couch-culottes and my terrycloth robe and went to the sink to wash my sullied panties and daintie glove. Putting my hands in the warm water caused me to wet myself. Eventually, I donned the lilac chiffon peignoir and snuggled into bed. After a short nap, I woke and had fine time creaming again, this time into my damp couche-culottes.


I bathed and spent the next couple of hours dressing for the evening. It took me a while to decide on what to wear. I was feeling so devil-may-care, and I convinced myself it would be alright to wear the georgette crepe sailor‘s dress — white blouse and white skirt — revealing my light navy blue silk surah with white Venise lace chemise and tap pantie, my garter suspenders clasped to the top of my white silk stockings. I felt so naughty and wondered what Mimi would say. I told myself I would replace the chemise with the matching negligee before Mimi came home. I had a fine time choosing accessories, and ended up in pearls, a white lace scarf tying my loose ponytail, and a pair of mother‘s blue and white patent leather pumps. I had redone my fingernail polish to more of a bluish plum color and my makeup with silvers, blues, and plums.

It was almost time for Mimi to come back when I had finished dressing and primping. She had been right about not having to leave my boudoir — I had spent the entire day there, except for a foray to mother‘s room for the shoes and scarf. I went downstairs to greet her when she came, daring myself not to change into the negligee — it would have been such a bother. I was sitting on the couch, a fire going in the fireplace, thumbing through a fashion magazine, when she arrived. I rose to greet her and help her out of her coat.

"So tell me, dear, how was your day?" she asked.

"Wonderful, nanny; I had a really nice time. I just love the new dress and things."

"Did you have a nice nap?"

"Uh-huh" I replied with a bit of a smile, the memory of my two creamings still fresh in my mind.

"Good for you dear."

She looked me over and said "That‘s such a cute dress, Evelyn. Not exactly a winter dress, is it?"

"No, it‘s not. But I wanted to wear something new for dinner. Besides, it‘s warm enough inside."

"I like it. You‘re really cute in it. It‘s something a young girl would wear… a pretty dress her mommy bought for her for a cruise. Except… I can see your lacy little intimates" she added with a smile. "Maybe your mommy and you will go on a cruise someday… it would be perfect set to wear for a stroll on the promenade deck."

The thought of going on a cruise and strolling on the promenade deck in the dressing sent chills through me. I blushed and stammered something about how I should be wearing a slip or petticoat with it.

"Sure… you could do that… but there‘s nothing wrong with showing off a bit."


The day ended with me in my white silk charmeuse pajama and robe set and Mimi in her tartan robe and black ballet dress watching a television program Mimi liked, both of us curled up on opposite ends of the couch. We made plans for the next day; Mimi wanted to visit the dairy she liked to pick up some cheese and wanted me to come with her. Melanie would be coming over between five and six o‘clock. In between, Mimi said there would be plenty of time for me to take a nap and get ready for dinner.


Friday

I was up and about early to give myself plenty of time to dress for our excursion to the dairy. Mimi seemed to be expecting me to be up early — when we greeted each other downstairs for breakfast, she offered, in an apologetic tone, that there would be time tomorrow morning for her to "come and visit with you before you start your day."

I had decided on wearing mother‘s oatmeal colored ribbed angora and lambswool sweater dress with the mauve trim and waist sash. I bathed and powdered, polished my nails in a pink that closely matched the mauve trim of the sweater dress, and made up with hues of pinks and plums. I wore my hair long, sweeping a bit of it back with the tortoise shell hair clip. As I did the last time I wore the dress, I chose the side-zipper all-in-one girdle to lift my derriá¨re and flatten my tummy, and selected the lingerie pink set with the ivory Venetian point lace trim and embroidery; camisole, pettislip, and dance pantie, along with white opaque stockings. I accessorized with mother‘s artisan jewelry in ivory and mauve tones. Instead of pumps I chose mother‘s pair of calf-length boots in creamy beige kid leather and two-inch Cuban heels, along with a beige leather over-the-shoulder purse. It was chilly outside, so I added my mother‘s off-white wool trench coat and an oh-so-soft angora scarf, glove, and beret set in white.

I was sitting at my vanity doing my makeup, having dressed to the camisole and dance pantie with the short pink robe when Mimi knocked on the door. She was already dressed in her nice black wool suit and white crew neck sweater.

"How about a few pictures of you getting ready?" she asked gaily, holding up the new camera.

She took some shots of me at sitting at the vanity then had me stand by the bedpost, robe open, my arms behind me, my leg cocked at bit. I timidly struck a few other poses. Then I followed her downstairs to show her how to upload the photos to the computer, launch the photo editing software, and do basic adjustments. I was quite taken by the photos she took of me in my underthings. She told me to go finish dressing while she played with the software.

I finished dressing and came downstairs. Mimi showed me what she had learned about editing the photos — she had moved beyond the basics.


It was exciting to be going out again. It wasn‘t nearly as nerve-wracking as our previous excursions. I didn‘t even slouch down in the seat as we drove off. On the way to the dairy talked about digital photography. Mimi wanted to try her hand at ’boudoir‘ photography with me as the subject, telling me that I‘d treasure the photographs as I became older.


There were no other customers at the dairy when we pulled up. Mimi convinced me to come inside with her. I was feeling a bit of confidence — I knew the layout of the delicatessen; the seating area was nothing more than a few wooden tables — very clean and utilitarian. I could sit inconspicuously at a particular out-of-the-way table while Mimi perused and selected cheeses and such. Mimi reassured me by saying "I‘ll be there for you." So with my heart racing, I followed her into the delicatessen and immediately made my way to the table I had in mind. Mimi made things easier by announcing "I‘ll be a minute dear… why don‘t you sit here and wait?"

There was a woman and a college-aged boy behind the deli counter — I gathered that he was her son. I became aware that he was casting lots of glances my way and I found myself blushing and looking away. After Mimi had made her selections, she asked "Evelyn, dear? Why don‘t we get a couple of sandwiches and just eat here?"

I didn‘t want to answer — I thought my voice might give me away. Nor did I want to get into a long discussion with her about leaving. So I replied with a quiet "Okay". The young man seemed pleased. Thankfully, Mimi didn‘t make me go to the counter to place my order; she walked over to me and asked what I wanted. After placing our orders, she came and sat down with me, smiling. The young man brought us our drinks. I avoided looking up at him or speaking anything more than a simple thank you. I took off my white angora gloves, forgetting that my nails were polished pink. Mimi patted me on the hand and whispered that I was doing fine. The young man brought our sandwiches and made an attempt to start a conversation with us — me in particular — saying something about the weather. I mumbled something, too embarrassed to engage him. Just then, some older couples came in and he had to go back to the counter. The scene was no longer so intimate and I relaxed, melting into the background. Mimi whispered that she thought the young man was handsome and that he was obviously interested in me. "You have no idea how pretty you are…" she said.

We paid our bill and left unnoticed. Back in the car, I felt a wave of relief and exhilaration. One more small step going out in the world as a young lady. One more chink out of the wall that surrounded me.

"I was really nervous, Mimi, but I guess I did alright, huh?" I asked as we drove off.

"Oh, Evelyn, you did just fine. For goodness sake, all you need to do is to relax and be yourself. That young man certainly thought you were cute — he kept looking you over… didn‘t you notice?"

"Uh, yea" I replied, blushing.

"That‘s something you‘re going to have to get used too — admiring glances from both men and women. You‘re just so pretty and fetching."


One the way home, Mimi stopped off at a florist for some fresh flowers while I sat in the car and touched up my makeup. When we got back home, a wave of euphoria came over me — I had gone out again and rather easily passed as a young lady. Mimi took some pictures of me outside standing in front of our door. Back inside, I busied myself for a half hour or so, helping Mimi arrange the fresh flowers and bringing out our china for dinner. She disappeared upstairs for a bit, and when came back down, she said "Well, Evelyn, you‘ve had an exciting day so far, haven‘t you? I bet you‘re a bit tired. You should go upstairs and have a nice little nap. I turned down your bed for you. I‘ll come up in a couple of hours and wake you so you can get ready for dinner tonight. I‘ve got a few things I need to do then I think I may lay down a bit, too."

I didn‘t need any further encouragement, so I made my way upstairs carrying my coat and scarf set. Mimi had turned down the bed and laid out my lilac peignoir and robe set and a set of couche-culottes. It took me a few moments to realize she had done something else, too. The bed coverings and sheets were turned halfway down the bed and revealed part of my big monogrammed pillow placed in the center of the bed. I thought back to the previous Sunday and how she had discovered me lying on top of the very same pillow. With a little gasp of discovery, I realized she must have put it there for me to lie upon… to cream upon… Then I noticed my hand mirror on the nightstand.

"Oh, nanny…" I whispered, gliding my finger over the pillow.

I went to the bathroom and partook of just a bit of my stash, then donned the coat, scarf, gloves, and beret so I‘d be dressed just as I had been when I was out. I presented myself to the mirrors and whispered "Oh Evelyn — you went out like this?"

I began to slowly undress, first gently pulling off my white angora gloves, and then opening my coat. I had the naughtiest thought that I was undressing for the young man at the delicatessen. My feelings were all jumbled and confused about this — I didn‘t think of myself as homosexual because I was a lady, but obviously…

After undressing and freeing myself of the tight body-contouring girdle, I slipped into lilac chiffon and stood by the bed, struggling with the fact that my nanny had laid out a pillow for me… How could she? She knew! Of course she knew!

I slowly lifted the covers off the pillow, revealing a neatly folded white velour hand towel from our linen closet.

"Ewww…" I moaned.

I unfolded the hand towel and draped it over the pillow, then climbed into bed, positioning myself over the pillow, lifting my chiffon, and moaned again as snuggled onto the pillow.

A few minutes of delicious slow churning and quiet O‘s followed. Then I heard Mimi coming up the stairs and lay stock-still, wondering if she was coming my way. The door was locked, but if she came to check on me… I heard her walk the other way towards my mother‘s room. I sat breathlessly, not daring to continue my pleasures. I took the hand mirror and primped a bit, then used it to examine my reflections in the other mirrors. A minute or so passed and I decided that she must have either gone back downstairs, or she was using my mother‘s bed for her nap.

I couldn‘t contain myself any longer, so I began anew my delicious churning and soon completely forgot about my nanny and where she might be, letting my O‘s escape my lips as I tried to prolong the beautiful agony. I delayed my approach to the precipice as long as I could, but it came closer and closer and I let out little squeals and yips, and, as the moment arrived, gasping and moaning and finally a loud "Ohhhh…"


I was awake and dressed in my terrycloth bathrobe, just getting ready to bathe, when Mimi arrived at my door with coffee and scones. She was wearing her blue checked robe and black ballet dress beneath.

"Did you have a nice nap, mon chéri?" she asked, setting the tray on the table between the wingback chairs.

"Yes, nanny" I replied softly, thinking about the pillow, towel, and hand mirror, hoping she wouldn‘t mention it.

"Good. It‘s important you have a nice nap" was all she said before turning the conversation to my evening ensemble. I confided in her that I thought the new black velvet dress was too formal for a simple dinner with Melanie. She assuaged my concerns by saying she was confident I‘d pull it off and, in the end, radiate simple understated elegance. I asked her what she‘d be wearing and she said she hadn‘t decided yet. Melanie, she said, would be coming directly from work and would probably look nice as she always did.

In the end, I was satisfied with my dinner ensemble. By removing the glitzy rhinestone buckle from the waist sash and tying the sash in a simple bow, the mood of the dress changed from dramatic eveningwear to a tasteful dinner dress. I wore my hair down, gently swept back and fastened with a simple black satin barrette of my mother‘s. I went light on my makeup, opting for a soft look, left my fingernails in their pink polish, and wore my pearl necklace and earrings and a couple of ivory bracelets. My stockings were black silk and without seams. However, I couldn‘t resist wearing the new pumps.

I came downstairs to find Mimi dressed in her black lace A-line dress. The last time I saw her in the dress, she had added red accessories; belt, pumps, and choker. This time she toned it down a bit and wore a simple shiny black belt and black pumps. We complimented each other and Mimi said my dressing was perfect.


I wasn‘t as nervous as I thought I‘d be when Melanie arrived. She was wearing a nicely tailored dove gray suit; below the knee slim skirt and fitted jacket, with a lovely cranberry red cashmere turtleneck sweater, hand-painted silk charmeuse scarf, and gold jewelry. I greeted her warmly, telling her how nice she looked, and how delighted I was that she could come for dinner. She looked me up and down and shook her head in mock disbelief, laughing as she said "You‘re so damn pretty, Evelyn. It should tick us girls off, but you know, I can‘t help but be glad for you."

We had a great evening. Mimi preferred serving dinner with several distinct courses — the ’French way‘ she said. We started with wine and cheese, then fruits and salads, then the main course of meat and starch, followed more cheese and fruit. We laughed and laughed at Melanie‘s stories. Mimi had a few stories of her own about growing up in Paris. She had one story about a boyfriend who cheated on her and what she did to him for revenge — he ended up broke and in jail. "The bastard didn‘t have a chance, did he?" roared Melanie when Mimi finished her story. I was surprised at how vindictive Mimi was — this was not a woman to be crossed.

At one point, Melanie saw the framed photographs of me on the piano — I had meant to hide them before she came over but totally forgot. I watched as she held the photo of me in dressed in mother‘s black velvet gown and asking incredulously "Is this you, Evelyn?"

Mimi jumped in and said that indeed, it was me, and that she took the photograph. That led the conversation to Mimi‘s photography hobby and, thankfully, away from me.

During the main course, Melanie asked if I was still planning on dressing up for work on Tuesday.

"Oh, most definitely" Mimi answered for me. "I mean, it‘s Halloween and all, so Evelyn has a perfect ready-made excuse in case someone shows up" she added.

"Like that nice teacher of yours… what‘s her name?" asked Melanie.

"Ms. Hunter" I answered.

"Right — in case Ms. Hunter shows up again" continued Melanie.


It was almost ten o‘clock when Melanie left. "I had a wonderful time" she said.

"We‘ll have you over again soon" replied Mimi.

I helped Mimi with the last of the dishes. It was the end of the evening and Mimi said she was heading to bed, tacitly acknowledging that she wouldn‘t be visiting me and tucking me in.

"I‘ll be here all day tomorrow, Evelyn. I‘ve got a nice day planned for you." she said as she reached out and gave my hair a gentle stroke. "Remember our little discussion about how little girls get to have frou-frou days? Hmm?"

My eyes widened as I remembered her telling me that I should have a frou-frou day, a day when little girls got to, as she had described it, "…dress up in their mommies‘ frilliest and laciest things."

My hand went to my mouth and I instinctively bit my fingernail as I softly gasped "Oh."

Mimi just smiled and said "I‘ll come wake you in the morning with some tea and we can start the day sharing our little secret" she said, her eyes fixated on mine. "Would you like that?"

"Yes, nanny" I replied in a blushing whisper, looking down.


I undressed slowly, thinking about the morrow and what fancies my nanny had in store for me. I donned my silk charmeuse set— chemise, tap pantie, pajama bottoms — and the requisite couche-culottes, and then snuggled into bed.


To be continued

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Comments

Thank you, Evelyn

ALISON

This is definitely the emergence of the beautiful
butterfly and the descriptions of the clothing that
Evelyn and Mimi dress in are exquisite.Thank you so much
for stimulating my imagination.Much love,Alison

ALISON

Awakening of Evelyn

I simply love this story and can't wait for book 6 to come out. Its so wonderful to see how feminine Evelyn is becoming and the lovely, womanly clothes she wears every day now. And her interest in Mimi and vice-versa is exciting.