The Devils Pact Tales from the Best Buy Incident Obsession
- 3 years ago
- 30
- 0
My Wonderful Obsession 4 free porn video
My Wonderful Obsession
Part 4: Clothes Shopping
My life was starting to get busy! School, homework and catching up Mom's
accounting records meant very little spare time, but I also had weekly
voice lessons. I was there one evening in late winter, and Mrs. White
was rehearsing me on two songs I was to perform at the upcoming spring
recital she always organized for her students. After three or four run-
throughs, we took a short break.
"Sandy, your voice has definitely changed since you started studying
with me, but just not the way I expected it to," said Mrs. White.
"You've gone from a soprano to an alto in the past three years, but your
voice doesn't show any signs of breaking into a lower range like it
should have by your age."
"I know," I agreed. "Things seem to be developing a bit later for me.
Some of the guys I know in school have a lot of hair on their arms and
legs already, but not me." I shrugged. "I'm not too worried about it -
Mom says some people just take a bit longer to get into puberty. If I'm
lucky my voice won't change till after the recital!"
Mrs. White chuckled, "Well said, Sandy. But when it does change, I hope
you're still able to sing half as well as you do now. Your voice has so
much more depth and emotion than it used to. You could go places, you
know. And I don't say that to very many of my students."
As we resumed the rehearsal, I considered what Mrs. White had just told
me. The idea of being able to perform on stage, in front of an audience
... could it get any better than that? But it might not happen after my
voice changed. I put the thought out of my mind and concentrated on my
songs. When my lesson was over, Mrs. White reminded me that I needed to
practice at least thirty minutes every day until the recital. Oh, great,
I thought - another thing to add to my schedule!
The following week I was doing just that, in my bedroom, and there was a
knock at my door. There stood Phil and a pretty blonde-haired girl I'd
never met. Phil spoke: "Hey Sandy, this is my friend Natalie. She heard
you singing and thought I had a sister I never told her about." He gave
me a mischievous wink.
"Hi Sandy, nice to meet you - you have a beautiful singing voice!" From
the look on Natalie's face, I wondered if she thought maybe Phil was
pulling her leg about me not really being his sister.
"I'm practicing for a recital next month. Sorry if I was bothering you
guys ..."
"Oh, I don't mind at all. I used to take singing lessons myself. What
songs are you doing?" I showed her the sheet music and Natalie nodded
approvingly. "These aren't easy; good for you!" Then she looked around
my room, and said, "Where's your mirror?"
"In the bathroom... oh, you mean like a full-length mirror? Yeah, my
teacher told me I should get one for practicing."
"Yes, you should! It's the only way to see yourself as the audience does
- you know, facial expressions, posture, all that stuff."
"Yeah, and so you can tell if you're using your diaphragm or not. Okay,
I'll ask my Mom if she can get me one. Thanks for the suggestion,
Natalie!"
"No worries - glad to help. Good luck with your recital!"
"C'mon, let's go," Phil prodded her, and with that the two of them
chimed in unison, "See you later Sandy," and they disappeared down the
stairs and out the front door.
I asked Mom about the mirror that evening, and two days later, there it
was attached to the back of my bathroom door when I got home from
school. 'Ask and you shall receive,' I grinned. It was perfect - I could
check myself out in the bathroom with the door closed, or while singing
in my bedroom when the door was wide open. But perhaps not the best gift
for someone who was already obsessed with their looks! Now I could see
all of me and what I was wearing, from head to toe and front to back.
By early March I was into the fifth of my seven months' supply of birth
control pills. They were working better than I could ever have hoped -
acne was just a distant memory. I appreciated my nice smooth face more
than ever! But every morning I looked at my chin in my magnifier,
expecting to see my first facial hair. Not a one - just the usual hint
of peach fuzz. But if it wasn't for morons like Justin Bradford and his
goon friends, it wouldn't cross my mind to get concerned - those guys
never passed up a chance to needle me about my effeminate appearance.
"Hey Johnson, did you pick out your dress for the dance yet?" Justin
called out in a loud voice as I was hanging my jacket in my locker one
morning. One of his buddies added (in a very loud, sarcastic voice),
"Sandy, sweetheart, will you be my date for the dance?" I tried my best
to ignore them and hurried through a nearby door into my first class.
Julia was already there at her desk.
A minute after I sat down, a folded-up note appeared from behind. I
opened it and read, "Sandy sweetheart, I'd love to be your date for the
dance (if you would have me). I heard everything & I'm so sorry. Julia."
That made me feel a whole lot better. I looked back at my friend and
nodded eagerly. Her face immediately lit up, and the deal was sealed.
Justin's low-life friend would have to be disappointed, I laughed to
myself.
The big dance (really a spring prom for freshmen and sophomores) was set
for late May, but I figured since it was my first high school dance I
should go all out to look my best. I'd start looking for my suit right
away. We always got lots of department store flyers in our mailbox, but
Mom normally threw them out, so I asked her to let me take a look at
them first. Spring wasn't far off, so there was no shortage of flyers
advertising the new spring and summer fashions. They were always
organized the same way: Ladies fashions first, then teen girls, then
teen boys, and then men. Oh, and finally, kids and toddlers.
The nicest ladies' clothes were always on the first couple of pages. For
spring there were lots of very pretty dresses in all kinds of patterns
and bright colors. I realized that Mom dressed like this a lot. She
usually wore a nice looking dress or skirt, blouse and jacket when she
was out meeting clients, and she didn't change when she got home. Her
'June Cleaver' look didn't include high heels in the kitchen, though -
she was too sensible for that!
The next few pages had other ladies' outfits, like pants, mix-and-match
sets, and of course lingerie and sleepwear. The teen girls' pages were
similar, but instead of lingerie there were bathing suits, one-piece and
two-piece. I found myself scanning all of it closely before arriving at
my section, where I would cut out promising ideas with a pair of
scissors. These I mac-tac'd onto the edges of my vanity mirror.
The thing that sort of puzzled me was how few of the girls at my school
wore the kinds of clothes that were advertised in the flyers. Most
seemed to go for either the 'grunge' look or the 'Barbie-doll' look, and
the in-betweens were just plain like Kathleen and Julia. I thought to
myself, 'If I was a girl I'd want to wear every one of these outfits.
They're all so pretty!'
I did ask Julia if she had a dress in mind for the dance. "Oh, I don't
know Sandy ... I wasn't really thinking of wearing a dress, maybe just
some pants and a long top or something."
"You can't be serious," I said. "This is a big deal! You should go all
out and knock everybody's socks off. It'd be so much fun!"
Julia looked a bit distressed about the prospect of dressing up. "Aw
Sandy, it's just not my style - I don't wanna look like my Mom, you
know."
"But you don't have to - there's tons of outfits for girls that don't
look anything like what your Mom wears. And besides, you're so pretty -
you'd look amazing."
"YOU think I look pretty? You're a lot prettier than I am, Sandy
Johnson. I can't compete with you!"
"Oh, get out - you know that's BS. Besides, I intend to look totally
handsome and dashing for you, so there! You won't be competing with me
at all."
"Oh great, make me feel even worse!" she groaned. "Like, I'm supposed to
look ravishing now. Good Luck! I wish I never agreed to go with you."
"I seem to recall it was YOU who asked ME to be your date."
"Minor detail. Anyway, I don't have any girlfriends to go shopping with.
And there's no way I'm taking my Mom - I'd hate to see what she'd try to
make me buy."
"Well, you're in luck then - I happen to be your new clothing
consultant," I offered before I knew what I was saying - I'd never set
foot in a girls' clothing store before! "I'll start working on it right
away."
"What does that mean?" she asked nervously.
"I've been clipping and saving a lot of ideas for suits for me. I'll do
the same for you."
"Oh, you mean we get to wear matching suits?" she asked with a wink. It
sounded like I was softening her up.
"No, and not matching dresses either, so don't bother suggesting it.
That would send Justin off the deep end. I mean YOU get to wear a
gorgeous dress, and I get to admire you in it."
"Whatever you say, mister fashion consultant. But if you make me look
silly I'll never speak to you again."
I paused and looked her in the eye. "I promise, you'll be so happy with
how you look that you'll want to marry me on the spot."
"All right, but do you promise to say yes? I couldn't handle being
rejected, you know." She was back to the usual self-deprecating, but
amusing, Julia.
"I'll never reject you, Julia Taylor." Hearing that, she walked up to me
and put her arms around my neck. I thought she was going to kiss me on
the lips and I froze, but at the last moment she planted one on my
cheek. Then she whispered, "I trust you, Sandy Johnson." Another warm
tingle went down my spine, but this time I also felt it go between my
legs!
The rest of the day went by in a whirl, and I couldn't wait to get home
to start looking for dress ideas for Julia. Luckily there was still a
pile of flyers I hadn't looked through yet, so I was able to dig right
in. But it was hard to flip past the first sections without closely
examining the ladies' clothes. I was mesmerized by some of the dresses
meant for grownup women. The words 'stylish' and 'classy' kept coming to
mind, with a few that were more like 'beautiful' or even 'stunning'.
But, disappointingly, I didn't see a lot in the teen sections that I
thought would suit someone like Julia. I clipped anything I thought had
potential, though.
A couple of Saturdays later, Julia's Mom dropped her off at our house so
she could look over the ideas I'd accumulated. Actually, Julia told her
we were doing some homework together, or else her Mom would really be
wondering about me.
"I dunno, Sandy, I don't think any of these are exactly me," she said
after we'd gone through everything. "I told you dresses aren't my thing.
I never wear them."
"You never wear dresses? Why not, you're a girl! Not even skirts?"
"Only when I'm waiting tables for my folks' catering jobs, and only
'cause they force me to. I'd wear pants if I could."
"I thought you were nuts, and you just confirmed it for me. You're given
the right body to wear pretty clothes, and you want to look like a boy
instead! But hey - you're my date for the dance, and we're going to put
you in a nice dress. So let's start at the beginning: What's your
favorite color?"
"Black," came the reply - as I'd suspected. 'Ignore that one!' I
thought.
"Okay, let's go from the top down: Bare shoulders or straps?"
"Uh, what about sleeves?"
"Don't get ahead of me! Bare or straps?"
"I guess straps."
I was looking forward to this one: "Cleavage showing or covered up?"
"Are you serious? Okay, I can play along - covered up, 'cause Mom's is
always showing."
"Sleeves?"
"Umm, let me think ... sleeves would be nice, but I could live without
them."
"Then why did you make a big deal?" I shook my head. "Okay, the waist -
high or low?"
"I thought you were a know-it-all, you big phoney! It's not a high
waist, it's called an Empire waist. That's what I need."
Oops, I thought - better do some more research! "Sorry ... how about the
skirt part, above the knee, below, down to the floor?"
"Definitely below the knee, but not floor length."
"Pleats or no pleats?"
"I don't care - surprise me."
"What about your shoes? Straps, pumps?"
"Mom always wears pumps, so I'll go for straps. But I can't handle too
much heel."
"Suits me - we can't have you towering over your date." Julia and I were
almost the same height. "Now for the tricky part. Can I talk you into
getting your hair and makeup done? Oh, another little thing - you don't
have pierced ears, do you?"
"You're really pushing your luck, sweetie. I hate to have to break this
to you, but I'm not exactly a girly-girl. I'm only doing all this 'cause
I owe you."
"No you don't - you paid me back already. But since you put it that way,
it can be my turn to owe YOU. C'mon Julia, just go with it! I'll do
anything you want if you'll just do this for me."
"Any...thing...?" Now Julia had a devilish look in her eyes.
"Anything," I confirmed, confident that my friend wouldn't make me do
something harmful or embarrassing. And whatever it was, it would be
worth it to see her looking all dolled up.
"Deal!" We shook hands. "I'll get back to you on that. So, now what do
we do about the dress?"
"Well, we could go to the mall and try a few things on. I wanna try on a
couple of suits I saw in the flyers. Let's go right now - it's only
eleven-thirty - we could have lunch in the food court. I'll see if Phil
can drive us there."
And that's exactly what happened. We had a super-fun afternoon, visiting
all kinds of stores and trying on stuff. For me, there were several
decent options in my price range, and Julia seemed to like every one of
them. So I decided to come back later with Mom to help me make the final
decision.
But Julia was another story. I decided the best way to get her to
cooperate was if I found the dresses I wanted her to try on, and
delivered them to her fitting room. I was kept busy running back and
forth from the racks with different styles and sizes. But I had to stay
close by to help with snaps and zippers, and to offer my opinion on how
everything looked on her. My androgynous looks and high voice sure came
in handy for accessing female-only fitting areas, and more than one
saleslady must have thought I was just another teenage girl who
preferred boyish clothes and short hair.
There was one especially nice navy blue dress Julia tried on. It had
(almost) everything she asked for. The skirt part was layered in a see-
through material that ended in a lacy hem with a bit of a flare to it.
It had thin straps and a straight-across bodice (a new word I learned
that day), and the waist was accented by a wide, shiny black ribbon that
fastened in the back with little hooks. It was also the first dress that
fit her perfectly. "Julia, that dress is fabulous on you. It takes my
breath away!" I gushed.
"Uh, I dunno ... it's pretty over-the-top, don't you think?" I could tell
she was a little out of her comfort zone, now that we had a good
prospect that she might end up having to buy. "And it doesn't have any
sleeves."
A salesgirl was listening. "You could wear long gloves, or just get a
shawl to wrap around your shoulders - maybe something that adds some
brighter color ... but you really look great with just bare shoulders."
"I do?" said Julia, sounding surprised.
"It's YOU," I told her sincerely. "I think you should buy it. How much
is it ...?" I checked the price tag. "Whoa - three hundred and fifty bucks
- that's a bit out of our price range," I said, shaking my head in
disappointment.
"THAT's for sure," agreed Julia with a hint of relief in her voice. She
went back into her cubicle to change out of the dress.
The salesgirl came over to me and said, "I shouldn't be telling you
this, but we'll be having a clearance sale at the end of the month. If
you put a hold on it, I can probably get you the lower price." I didn't
think Julia had overheard, so I asked in a low voice, "You could do
that? How much do we have to put down?" "Fifty," was her reply, and I
immediately nodded my approval and hurried to the counter to pay. I
really wanted Julia to have that dress for the dance.
Julia's Mom picked us up at six when the mall was closing. On the way
back to my house, she peppered Julia with questions about her shopping
experience - what the dresses looked like, why didn't she choose one -
that kind of thing. I could tell she was excited that her daughter was
actually considering buying, maybe even wearing, a real dress. I spoke
up to take the heat off my friend. "That was only our first shopping
trip, Mrs. Taylor - I know we'll find her something perfect."
"Sandy, I can't believe you're so willing to help a girl shop for a
dress. Boys aren't usually interested in that sort of thing."
"Sandy's not exactly your typical macho male, Mom, in case you haven't
noticed," Julia said dryly. She quickly turned to me with an apologetic
look on her face. "Oh, I didn't mean anything by that."
I laughed it off. "No worries," I told her. "Didn't you notice how I was
able to hang around your change room without anybody raising an eyebrow?
Something tells me a 'macho male' type wouldn't get anywhere near. I'm
getting used to people thinking I'm a girl, anyway, so I might as well
just go with it. Pretty soon I'll be shaving and my voice will change,
so maybe I can have some fun with it while it lasts."
"That's a positive way to look at things, Sandy," said Mrs. Taylor. "I
think you're a very special young person." Why did she say 'young
person' instead of 'young man', I wondered. Was she still unsure of
which sex I really was?
Then Mrs. Taylor changed the subject. "How are you doing with the
accounting software, Sandy? Are you earning as much as you thought you
would?"
"Oh, it's not too bad. But I'm all caught up on last year's entries, so
my hours are down a lot. I was hoping I could earn at least a couple of
hundred a month, but I'm only getting about half that now."
"Sandy, there's a reason Mom asked you about the money," said Julia with
a hint of anticipation in her voice.
Mrs. Taylor laughed, "Yes, there is. I was just wondering if Sandy would
be interested in working some of our catering jobs. It pays eight an
hour. We could sure use more table help."
"Oh, Sandy, say yes," Julia squealed. "It's not hard and I'd love to
have a friend to work with. It'd only be on weekends during school, so
it wouldn't get in the way of homework or anything."
"Eight an hour? Sounds interesting," I mused. "What kind of clothes
would I need?"
"We all wear white shirts - and black pants for the guys, or black
skirts for the girls," said Julia. "Except we don't usually have guys
working tables. For some events, like weddings, we put on colorful
accents like belts or ties, or sometimes we have to put ribbons in our
hair." That last item clearly annoyed her. "Oh, and girls wear black
flats and guys wear black runners or whatever."
"That means I wouldn't have to buy anything new at all," I said. "And I
do like serving people - I think I'd be good at it. So when do I start?"
Just then I realized I'd have to check with Mom. But Mrs. Taylor was way
ahead of me.
"Well, you'll need to get your mother's permission first. But if you're
available, we have a function next Friday evening and all day Saturday.
It's a ladies' retreat at a big church not far from here. You'd be
helping us out a lot and you'd be working fifteen or sixteen hours. How
does that sound?"
It sounded fantastic. I'd be able to sock away a lot of extra money if
Mom would let me work for the Taylors. "Great," I replied excitedly.
"I'll let you know what my Mom says, but if it's no I'm going to get on
my knees and beg."
They both laughed, then we all fell silent for a few minutes. As we were
pulling into my driveway, Julia suddenly said, "This is too good to be
true. I can hardly wait for next weekend!"
Her Mom turned to her as I was getting out of the van, and said, "Julia,
you seem awfully excited about having Sandy work for us. What's the big
deal?"
"Just that! Sandy's going to be working with me next weekend and it'll
be the most fun I've ever had." I was completely mystified as to what
Julia meant by that, but in less than a week I was to find out. Mom had
no problem saying yes, as I'd hoped, after being convinced that my new
job wouldn't interfere with my schoolwork or other priorities.
*****
All the following week at school, Julia was more happy and bubbly than
I'd ever seen her. "What's got into you?" I asked her more than once. At
first she said, "Nothing," or "I'm just having a great week." The last
time, though, she replied, somewhat cryptically, "Let's just say I get
to collect a little sooner than I thought." I must admit I had no idea
what she was talking about.
At Friday lunch period, Julia and I were sharing some food from the
cafeteria. "We'll be at your place no later than four-thirty, so be
ready!" she instructed me.
"Will there be enough time for me to get some training? I've never done
this before, you know." I was starting to feel a little nervous.
"It's pretty easy. First we'll be setting tables, then when the people
show up we just serve water and tea and coffee. The meals are all
buffet-style so we just have to make sure everyone has stuff to drink.
Then we clear the plates and there's a speech or something after that,
while they're having dessert. I'll stick close to you until you have it
all down pat. Don't worry - you'll do be-eautifully!" Julia emphasized
the last word with a wink and a nod.
Just then, Kath showed up as she often did at this time. "How's my
oldest best friend and my newest best friend doing?" she inquired as she
took a seat. She and Julia seemed to be becoming good friends, which
made me very happy.
"Oh, Kath, Sandy's working one of our catering functions this weekend.
Like, it's going to be such fun having a friend to work with." Julia
looked at me with genuine affection, and she winked again.
"You are?" Kath demanded. "I could use a job like that - does it pay
well?"
"Not badly," I replied. "But you wouldn't be able to do it, Kath."
"And why not? I can buss tables with the best of them!"
I leaned over and looked her in the eye for effect. "I'll tell you why.
It's 'cause you'd have to wear a skirt, and you told me a million times
you'd never be caught dead in one."
"Well, for the right money, I might consider being caught alive in one!"
That comment took me by surprise. Was my tomboy best friend going all
girly on me? "That I'd like to see," I said, "but I don't know if I
could handle it - might be too much for my delicate constitution!" We
all laughed. Just my luck to have not one but two girlfriends who didn't
like being girls.
I had to say goodbyes first, as I was supposed to meet up with a teacher
about some extra tutoring. "See you at four-thirty," I told Julia.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Kath."
"Oh, I almost forgot," Julia called after me, "wear some jeans and bring
your good clothes in a bag, 'cause we have to unload Dad's trailer and
move tables around first."
"Sounds good," I shot back, as I hurried off. I really had no idea what
'adventures' that evening would bring, or I might have decided I wasn't
well enough to go!
To be continued ....
Rowan
- 18.08.2020
- 18
- 0
