Show What You Can t Say Mallory Part 3
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Show What You Can't Say -- Mallory. Part 2 free porn video
The alarm clock sounded and I felt the thin fabric of the baby-doll
nightgown encasing my body as I slid out of bed. What a sensation! I saw
myself in the mirror as I walked into the bathroom. Flat chest and boyish
rear end for sure, but the person in the mirror still looked like a cute
girl. Suddenly terror gripped me. I would soon have to face Mom over
breakfast.
Last night Mom had tested me by leaving a pretty nightgown on my bed, and
I knew she was wondering if I had taken the bait. What I wore to
breakfast would express a lot without words. After our intense
conversation last night I still was not ready to say outright that I
wanted to be a girl. Talking about personal thoughts was always hard for
me, and Mom knew that when she gave me the opportunity to express myself
by making a choice of sleepwear. Now I was confronted by my next step.
I debated my options: admit what I had done by wearing the gown to
breakfast, switch into my regular pajamas and try to pretend that is what
I has slept in, or get dressed in my school clothes and try to avoid the
issue. After some hesitation I decided to throw my terry cloth bathrobe
over the nightgown and head to the kitchen. The robe would protect my
privacy, but Mom would still figure out what I was wearing
I looked at myself in the mirror and decided to make a stronger
statement. I brushed my hair down in front so it looked like I had bangs.
Next I opened the collar of my robe a bit so that the plunging neckline
of the gown showed underneath. I took a deep breath had headed to the
kitchen. I knew that my appearance would open the inevitable
conversation.
Mom checked me out as I sat down for breakfast, and I could not help
notice a very approving smile. I always put a lot of effort into pleasing
her. If my wearing the nightgown made both of us happy what was wrong
with that?
"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep like a princess?"
How could I answer that? I just looked down and started eating.
To my amazement she did not say anything more about what I was wearing.
Nor did she follow up about our conversation last night when she had
explicitly asked me if I ever wished I had been born a girl. I had burst
into tears and responded with 'I don't know.' This morning she was giving
me some emotional space. Our breakfast ended with her urging me to get
dressed and head for school. Although she had not said so, she was
clearly pleased with my choosing to wear the gown.
That evening I helped fix dinner, and again Mom again did not bring up
our conversation from last night. I was grateful that she was not
pressing the issue because I certainly did not feel comfortable talking
about it right now.
When I sat down in the living room I noticed a couple of current issue
teen-girl magazines were laying on the end table. She obviously had
purchased them today and was testing me again. I ignored the magazines
and started my homework. Eventually a combination of interest, curiosity,
and a desire to see how Mom would react won out. With the most girlish
hand gesture that I could manage I picked one of the magazines up,
glancing at Mom as I opened it. She was smiling.
I started reading the makeup styles section in the magazine. Soon I
noticed Mom coming back into the room with a shopping bag. She looked at
what I was reading, and this time I did not try to hide it.
"Don't her nails look pretty? I thought you would enjoy some new reading
material to look at," she teased. She handed me the shopping bag. "I got
you some new sleepwear today. The gown I loaned you last night was way to
'mature' for your age so I did some shopping in the juniors department."
I opened the bag and found two smooth, silky pastel nightgowns. They were
somewhat plain, but still delightfully feminine. "Thank you, Mom," was
all I could say as she hugged me.
A few nights later I was heading into the living room after dinner and
Mom asked, "Anything you want to talk about, dear."
Her tone of voice told me exactly what she meant. "No," I replied
In response Mom asked me to come to her bedroom after I finished doing my
homework. I rarely went in there anymore, and I wondered what she wanted.
She was sitting at her makeup table as I came through the door.
"Since you don't want to continue our conversation I thought I should
give a chance to act out your interests. Take your shoes and socks off
and sit on the other chair, princess."
What's this all about? She was addressing me with girly terms again, and
she was really enjoying it. As I slipped off my shoes I saw her sorting
through bottles of nail polish. Was she going to...?
"Give me your foot. Yes, like that. How would you like to have pretty
toenails like all the other girls at your school?"
How could I answer that question? What did she mean by saying 'other
girls' like I was one of them too? I was still confused and not ready to
admit to her that I looked at the girls at school with envy, not romantic
interest. Still she seemed to suspect something. I kept silent for a bit
too long.
"Silly. Are you afraid someone will find out? No one will know as long as
you keep your socks on. How about this one, a nice shade of red?"
I blushed.
"Perfect, it almost matches your complexion. I want to give you more
opportunities to explore your feminine side. If you go along with it I
will know you are enjoying the experience, even when you are tongue-
tied."
Without waiting for my answer she moved into action. Foam blocks
separated my toes and the smell of nail polish filled the room. She
expertly did each toe, chatting all the while. I relaxed and let her work
on my toes. Occasionally we exchanged glances that spoke volumes.
Finally she was done and the polish was dry. "There, done! Those toes
look so cute and pretty. Maybe you will really get into pedicures and
even invite some of your girl friends over to see the results. I think
you would like that, wouldn?t you. Well, off to bed my dear. "
As I headed to my room I started to wonder what I had gotten myself into.
I was enjoying these experiences, but was also concerned. I was afraid of
things going out of control, but more afraid that Mom would change her
mind and make me go back to total-boy mode 24/7. For now Mom seemed to be
pushing me even farther into femininity.
Sitting in class the next day my mind kept wandering to the secret of
what was inside my shoes. I bounced between wishing I could show my toes
to the girls and dreading what would happen if any of the boys found out.
Maybe I could just tell just one person that I really trusted. I liked
Ann-Marie White. Could she keep the secret?
************
A few days later Mom had a pile of shopping bags piled on the dining
table when I got home from school. My curiosity increased when I noticed
one of the bags was from a teen fashion place where she would have been
unlikely to be shopping for herself. I decided to continue my usual
routine: do some homework, then put on an apron and start helping prepare
dinner. As I suspected would happen, Mom came the living room after
dinner bringing several bags with her.
"Mallory, I've been thinking of how much interest you showed in the
girls? clothing catalogs and fashion magazines. I also know you have been
sleeping in the pretty gowns I got for you. Maybe we can explore your
interests a bit more," she said with a sly smile. "Go ahead, look at what
I bought."
I nervously started to open the bags. I took out a pair of jeans that
were distinctly girl-style with narrow legs and an embroidered design on
the rear pockets. Next I found a girl?s blouse made from a thin, smooth
floral print fabric. A fancy belt completed the outfit. Mom spoke first,
which was good. Somehow, I couldn?t figure out what to say about these
clothes.
?I thought you should have some more stylish things to wear around the
house in the evening. Try the jeans on, I bet they will make your butt
look cute.?
Slightly embarrassed by her last remark, I took the clothes and headed
into my room to change. This started a new pattern for my days - boy
clothes at school and then girls casual wear at home. Over the next few
weeks she kept adding more feminine shoes, jeans, and tops to my evening
choices. She got me plenty of high-cut panties so I would not have to
wear jockey shorts as a poor substitute. I was enjoying the experience,
and so was Mom.
One evening I was again looking through the bra and panty section of a
catalog, and this time I was making no effort to hide what I was reading.
I figured that Mom knew and approved.
Mom walked up beside me, glanced over my shoulder, then looked amused. "I
see by your interest in lingerie that it's time for my little girl to get
her first bra."
That remark caught me off guard. ?Wha ? what??
?Mallory, princess, you know your tops would fit better if you filled
them out a bit. All the other girls your age are showing some curves by
now.? She was clearly enjoying my momentary embarrassment and teasing me
too. ?Let me get something I have been saving for the right moment.?
Suddenly I realized how far this all had gone. Her remark about ?other
girls? confirmed my growing suspicion that she was starting to think of
me as some kind of substitute daughter for the girl she always wished she
had. I turned as she came back.
"This bra is a padded AA. It's something that will fit your flat chest,
but enough to give you a hint of development." She paused to watch my
reaction. "We both enjoy your acting like a girl. Do your mother a big
favor and allow her to fit 'her daughter' with a first bra. Please take
off your shirt, darling."
I was speechless. Mom watched me undress. She slipped the bra straps over
my arms and spun me around so she could fasten the clasp. As she adjusted
the strap length my mind was bouncing between excitement over what I was
wearing and sheer terror over what might happen next.
?Now, princess, I want to see you take it off and put it back on by
yourself.?
She giggled as I struggled with my arms behind my back. Finally I figured
out the trick of getting it fastened. I put my blouse back on and walked
over to the mirror to look at my profile while Mom watched.
?Mallory, this is the new you. From now on I want you to wear a bra
whenever you are wearing girl clothes at home.?
I sat back down and tucked my legs under me girl-style and went back to
my reading. Thankfully, Mom seemed to be done playing mind games with me
for the evening. Eventually I put my homework away and went to bed.
For the next few weeks I did as she asked and changed into a bra and
panties as soon as I got home from school. Usually I just wore girl-
styled jeans and a sweater or blouse on top. She slowly continued to add
to my collection: some makeup, a necklace pendant, a new bra. Femininity
was the common theme of the gifts, and she had the knack of buying the
right size and colors for me. Mom had gotten me some skirts, but they
seemed too dressy for just hanging around the house. I still had mixed
feelings about all this, and tried to convince myself I was just doing it
to please Mom. Still, I wondered what it would be like to be publicly
accepted as a girl.
Mom coached me in feminine mannerisms as well. After a more few weeks I
could actually give a bit of swish to my skirt as I walked with my
fingers relaxed and my wrists bent. Moving like a girl still took
concentration and effort, but I was getting better. It was wonderful
having this private secret at home and pretending to be Mom?s adoring
daughter.
Then one night I woke from a frightening dream. I had been running down
the street being chased by boys who kept shouting about how I looked just
like fairy girl and ... When my head cleared I decided this had gone too
far and I resolved to stop dressing like a girl. Even though I only did
it at home I had a sense that this was dangerous, and bad things would
happen if anyone found out. What if we accidentally left the front
curtains open or someone came to the door? The next few evenings I
stayed in my boy clothes after school, and wore boy pajamas to bed. Mom
noticed, but did not say anything.
Talking about personal thoughts was still very difficult for me. Mom did
not push the issue, but I knew she was unhappy about no longer seeing bra
lines under my shirts or my daily change of panties in the laundry. I had
made a resolution to put the dress-up games behind me forever and was
going to stick to it.
After a week or so I started missing the experience of being a girl in
the evening. Those times with Mom had been really nice. I would start to
remember how nice the clothes in my closet felt. My thoughts kept coming
back to my former idea of sharing my feminine identity with someone my
age like Ann-Marie. I enjoyed the fantasy of being accepted as a real
girl by friends my age. These thoughts conflicted with my resolution to
go back to boy mode full time, and increased my confusion. Somehow I
needed to resolve what I wanted.
Mom must have noticed my increasing uneasiness and indecision, but she
took her time. We were cleaning up after dinner when she finally forced
the issue.
"Mallory, you have a lot of pretty clothes. Why have you only been
wearing drab boy stuff?"
I looked at her, but couldn't find the right words. I just walked
gracefully back to my bedroom, opened my drawer, took out a bra, and
started to put it on. As I reached behind to fasten the hooks I glanced
to see Mom standing in the doorway smiling.
... To be continued.
Alma
- 08.01.2021
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Show What You Can t Say Mallory Part 4
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Show What You Can t Say Mallory
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