Reluctant Diva 31
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 31 – Let’s dance
Over the weekend I had plenty of opportunity to consider the consequences of my close encounter with Lee and what situations might follow at school. I worried that if I reduced my make-up to the limit permitted at school, how long would it take for him to see through my female persona? Worse, someone might tip him off, with unforeseeable consequences. There were individuals who might wish to settle a score with me. Ensuring that I avoided the bully was the only workable strategy I could come up with and its success was none too certain.
Before any of these imaginings could take place, however, another meeting put my concerns in the shade. As I made my way to class on the Monday morning I was filled with vague forebodings. Sure enough, a voice broke in on my thoughts and when it did it was most unwelcome.

“I suppose you’re expecting thanks for saving Vern’s hide on Friday?”

The voice belonged to Karen!

I turned to face my erstwhile sweetheart and though I was realistic enough not to expect any gratitude from her direction, her sarcastic tone made it more likely that the opposite was to be my reward.

“He most probably deserved what was coming to him, the irritating little swish” she continued. “He’s always bugging someone or other.”

“All the same, you wouldn’t want him hurt?” I remonstrated.

She shrugged her shoulders indifferently. “I can do that myself any time. Just don’t expect any favours from me, that’s all.”

“But…”

My words died in my throat as she turned on her heel and stalked haughtily away.
How could I ever have thought of her as my soulmate?

Hard on the heels of that unpleasing conversation the encounter I’d been hoping to avoid followed. That afternoon I rounded a corner in the main corridor to come face to face with my nemesis, Abe. My heart sank further as I saw that his buddy Lee wasn’t far behind him. This was turning out to be one of those days.

Whenever I’d been collared by the pair before I started coming to school as ‘Jennifer’, I’d had reason to regret the experience. On the plus side, the only time Abe had actually come across ‘Jennifer’ herself was at the ball game I’d attended with Mom the year before. Then he hadn’t penetrated my feminine trappings and recognised me. No doubt he was distracted, being engaged chiefly in ogling my figure and trying to flip up the hem of my dress. The ordeal had been traumatic enough, but I’d been able to give as good as I got, grabbing his arm and digging in my fingernails in retaliation. The fake leather jacket he was wearing was only made of cheap material and as my sharpened nails pressed in above his elbow the flesh felt more like more flab than muscle. His humiliation before his cronies had been complete and that time I’d definitely come off best.

Today the large black boy leered down at me, but for some reason I didn’t feel in the least intimidated. I gave him a provocative smile and flaunted my long nails in front of his eyes to recall his former discomfiture to his mind. As the memory dawned on him, he literally quailed before my unflinching stare. Next moment he had vanished out of sight around the corner.

So far this was proving too good to be true, but anticipating further trouble I looked at the other of the pair inquiringly. He actually smiled back at me.

“What’s the matter with him?” I asked innocently, though I understood full well the reason for Abe’s abrupt disappearance.

Lee merely shrugged his shoulders “Oh. He had somewhere to be, I guess.”

He stared at me curiously. “You look different…”

Were my fears about to be realised? Had he seen though me? In desperation I sought to try to distract my companion. “Well what do you expect? “ I asked scornfully. “Cocktail dresses don’t fall within the dress code.”

Inevitably his eyes dropped from my face and their focus became the front of the sweater which was stretched tightly across my boobs. Letting him see I’d noticed the attention he was giving that part of my anatomy, I looked haughtily at him and made to move away.

He was unabashed, however and fell into step beside me. “Friday night was okay. There’s another hop in two weeks. You going?” His studied attempt at a casual manner didn’t ring quite true. I could sense an undercurrent of something more.

My own indifference was more genuine. “I don’t know for definite. I might be there.”

“Cool!”

We had reached the door of my homeroom so I stopped to dismiss my uninvited companion. “Excuse me!”

He hesitated uncomfortably for a moment.

”Better make with the feet!” I hinted.

He finally blurted out. “Gotta go. See ya!”

“Bye!” I turned to enter class, resisting the temptation to add the hackneyed “Not if I see you first!” as he went. In my case it was more apt than usual! As I opened the door I had to hide a smile of relief. I had definitely come out on top in the exchange and couldn’t believe how well that had gone.

If I entertained the hope that a long period would elapse before our paths would cross again then I was sadly disappointed. Though I was successful in avoiding further chance meetings, at the next sock hop Lee showed up as promised. I had toyed with the idea of giving the dance a miss, but my friends were adamant that I should go. They were sympathetic when I told them I didn’t want this particular boy to get too friendly and promised not to desert me. In reality once the dance was in full swing, they would be too busy to take time out to look after me.

For this occasion my mother had finished sewing a skirt for me on the lines of the poodle skirts then in vogue. I was grateful and by wearing it with a simple top I knew this outfit would be less conspicuous than the dress I wore to my first dance. A last minute hitch occurred when I went to put on my bobby socks and discovered a hole in one of them. I would have to resort to wearing hose and heels instead, but I was looking forward to the evening and the substitution formed only a minor cloud on my horizon.

To begin with things went smoothly as we girls danced among ourselves. Later on as the boys’ confidence grew, the others started to pair off with them. Except when Kyle asked me up at Shirley’s prompting I was left sitting by the wall. It suited me fine. I was content just listening to the music but before long a moment I had been both dreading and hoping for arrived.

“Care to dance?” Lee was standing before me.

I felt I had no choice but to comply and so to make the best of the invitation I gave him a winning smile as we took to the floor. Lee proved to be just as capable a partner now as on the previous occasion. It seemed that this was an activity where the two of us really clicked. Before long I found myself completely lost in the dance. As I began to know my partner’s leads better, he added some advanced moves into our routine in the second dance. Even these met with success. The music for a third number started up and I was about to thank him and leave the floor, when he whispered some directions in my ear and looked at me inquiringly.

“Want to try it?”

After a moment’s hesitation I nodded assent, trying to hide my nervousness.

Halfway through the dance he gave the signal and next moment I was in the air. It was exhilarating but I knew I was in safe hands.

He repeated the move, this time varying it with another spectacular lift. By the time the song came to an end I became conscious that we were at the centre of a circle of onlookers. Once again I appeared to be making a spectacle of myself.
Why did that always happen to me?!

At the end of a school day a few weeks later, I set off with Kyle and Peter to walk down to the bicycle sheds as usual. I surprised to find Chris waiting to accompany me. The other two were ahead of us so I slowed my pace a little more to give us the chance for a tête-à-tête. Normally so matter of fact, now my friend’s manner seemed to betray some embarrassment. That was most unlike him and aroused my curiosity. He was actually having difficulty finding words.

“Er… Well er…”

This was strange! The best remedy would be to pretend I hadn’t noticed.

“Er… You know it’s the Halloween Ball next Friday?” he stammered.

Taking into account his confusion, what might be to follow immediately flashed into my mind and I started to colour up in my turn. “Yes, I know. Are you going?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of going” came his measured reply. “Are you?”

I shrugged helplessly. “Can’t. It isn’t for my year.”

He cleared his throat. “No. But I wondered if anyone was taking you.”

“Not likely!” I laughed. “Who would ask me?”

He hesitated, then “Well you could come with me if you like. There’s a live band and they really cook. It’s supposed to be a real blast.”

I stopped and faced him, my face scarlet. “I’d love to.” I meant it. “Are you sure about this? You might never live it down, you know.”

“I wouldn’t want to.” His reply gave me a warm feeling right down to my toes.

I could see the other two had turned and were waiting for us. Walking on towards them I said “Okay then”.

“You’ll come?”

I nodded assent. “Of course I’ll need to check with Mom. Oh! Your bus! You had better run.”

As I pedalled home my heart was singing. When I got there I was to find that my mother was ahead of me once again.

“Now my girl, have you forgotten that it’s Halloween next week? There’s a party at your school with prizes for the best outfits and I have just the thing for you.”

“But Mom, you know that’s not for my age-group,” I objected, reluctant to reveal my earlier conversation with Chris just then.

“That’s correct. However, if your date is in one of the years above you then you will be able to go!” The significance of her rejoinder wasn’t lost on me.

“Date, what date?” I asked, as innocently as I could.

“A date I know you will like! That’s my secret. Don’t concern yourself with the little details. You can safely leave everything to your old mother. Trust me; you’re going to have a ball! Let me show you what you will be wearing.”

Resignedly I followed her upstairs to my room with a sinking heart.

“The two of you will be dressed as an international spy and his glamorous, helpless girlfriend. Like in the James Bond books! Won’t that be fun?” she asked triumphantly.

It might if I were to be the spy. Though I’d read most of those novels, somehow I knew that the particular role I preferred wasn’t ever going to be enacted by me.
“Undress please,” was her next instruction. I was well used to complying and obeyed without a thought. When I was clad only in my panties, she handed me a new white corset. It was a more extensive garment than the one I wore each night for waist training, being of the ‘overbust’ type fulfilling the function of a bra as well as a waist-shaper.

When Mom had tied off the laces behind me, a glance in the mirror showed that the hourglass shape I was used to seeing was further accentuated. My hips had the illusion of being bigger than my shoulders and my squeezed up bust displayed more volume than I thought possible. There were no less than eight garter tabs attached to it so my hose would be secured at the very top of my thighs all the way around. That might be an advantage given the shortness of the dress Mom now handed me.

This garment proved to be a cocktail number in a pretty pale blue satin, with white lace setting off the bust. There was more lace accenting the two tiers of material around the hem of the skirt which was higher than any I’d ever worn. Mom smiled knowingly as I undid the zipper down the back and stepped into it. That operation wasn’t simple with my torso held so rigidly by the corset. When I had been zipped up again, the transition from my compressed waist to my hips made the skirts flare dramatically outwards, apparently defying gravity.

To complete the transformation, my mother held out a wig for me to wear. It was a real pièce de résistance. Instead of matching my own hair colour like the hairpieces I’d worn before, this one was a bright blonde in a ditsy bob style. I put it on gingerly, as if it might bite! Checking in the mirror revealed the image of an awe-struck blonde bombshell standing next to my mother, whose own face was filled with glee.

“Here honey!” she took some makeup from her dressing table and coated my lips a bright red. My nails were then coloured the same shade. While they was drying, eye shadow in a striking blue was applied, then mascara, before my cheeks were heavily powdered and rouged. The tastefully minimal approach I had so painstakingly perfected at the salon had disappeared out the window.

Then the feathery wrap which had featured so prominently in my dream, a bright necklace with matching earrings, trinkets on my wrists and a silly little purse completed my outfit. There were even pale blue high heels to go with rest of the ensemble. I gazed in the mirror in shock at the alteration my parent had achieved, turning me into a total bimbo!
Delighted with her handiwork, Mom paraded me up and down as if I were a poodle at a prize dog show. I cringed as her little camera flashed to make sure the moment was recorded for posterity. This was something I would prefer to forget.

When I’d been allowed to change back into everyday attire so that I could prepare the evening meal, it was really a pleasure to get back into familiar clothes again.

Next day I decided that I had better let my parent know that I’d been asked by Chris to the dance. I was rewarded with a recurrence of that triumphant look on her face which I’d had such reason to dread in the past. She reacted without a hint of surprise. The outfit I would be wearing had already been settled if Mom had her way. No doubt the hotline to Mrs Bennett had been busy, for later in the week I had to feign surprise when my would-be escort suggested the very same theme.

At least we wouldn’t be dressed up in one of those run-of-the-mill ghoulish costumes. While I disliked anything so tacky, the thought crossed my mind that the alternative which had been chosen might well make me too conspicuous. My own preference would have been to maintain a lower profile but there was little or no chance of that. We were likely to be as noticeable as a neon light. Whatever my parent’s motives might be I found that I had no strong objection. Perhaps I was getting accustomed to being in thrust into the spotlight and even starting to enjoy it… a little… well actually a whole lot!

When Friday arrived, I returned from school to find my mother in a state of excitement over what lay ahead of me. Instead of being given my usual list of chores I was sent upstairs to bathe before changing into my outfit. I completed my garish make-up as planned, though it went against the grain. It was as well that I did, as I received the closest scrutiny when she joined me.

I was strangely pleased to be able to select a pair of panties from my extensive lingerie collection which were the same shade of blue as my little dress. Coordination of my clothes mattered to me and it was reassuring to know that if my dress flipped up revealingly, my underpinnings would match it perfectly! I needed Mom’s assistance to put on the corset and dress but as usual, she loved to be involved in my preparations.

At supper, my nerves had been in too much of a flutter to eat anything; just some cookies and a glass of milk. It was fortunate because the tightness of my clothing would have made anything more substantial unbearable.

At last I was ready and looking every inch the dumb lady friend of a man of mystery. While Mom drove me to the school I was in a state of high anticipation. My head was full of the prospect of spending a whole evening with Chris. I couldn’t help my imagination running riot over what course it might take and whether there might be a romantic outcome.
I could only hope!