My Second Day With Mom free porn video

MY SECOND DAY WITH MOM By Lisa Lovelace Sunday dawned clear and sunny. I yawned and stretched in my light pink babydoll nightgown and climbed out of bed, remembering the lovely time I had with Mom yesterday on her first day of freedom from my unloved father. My first bubble bath... my new wardrobe... my salon makeover... our mother-and-daughter dinner... my new Lolita costume and maid uniform... What a happy day! I went downstairs and found Mom in the kitchen. "Oh, good, I was afraid I was going to have to wake you up," she said. "Have breakfast and get dressed. We're going to church." "Church? Why? We never go, except at Christmas and Easter." "Well, this Sunday is different," she said. "We're safe from your father now, and I'm feeling grateful, and church is a good place to show gratitude. So we're going to dress up. I'll wear a nice dress, and you'll wear your Lolita costume." "Mom! You won't really make me wear it in public, will you?" "Why not? You'll look like a very pretty girl who isn't afraid of her femininity. I'll say you are my niece, Lisa, who's staying with me while her mother's out of town. Remember to call me Auntie, not Mom." The two of us went to my room, where I quickly moisturized and powdered myself and dressed. Panties. Bra. Plain white thigh-high stay-ups, instead of the figured stockings that went with the Lolita outfit. Full slip. All three petticoats - my outfit was going to occupy a lot of pew. The knee-length pink dress, with all of its ruffles and bows. She looked at me with and without the wig, and decided the wig was too much. She also let me leave off the dainty choker. She looked me over. "Take off one of the crinolines," she said. I reached under my skirts, got hold of the innermost petticoat, slid it down my legs and stepped out of it. I swished my skirts back and forth to settle them. "There! You'll be the prettiest girl at church today," Mommy said. "I don't want to be the prettiest girl at church!" "Of course you do," she said. "All girls want to be the prettiest. And you will be." We got our purses and walked to church, which was only a few blocks away. We didn't meet any other churchgoers on the street - most people drove - but as we approached the church door, we ran into the Indigos. Mrs. Indigo lived down the street from us. Her daughter, Violet, was the same year as me at school and was in some of my classes. My heart pounded. I felt a jolt of adrenaline. Would Violet recognize me?" "Hi, Mrs. Deon," Mrs. Indigo said. "Who's this lovely young lady?" "This is my niece, Lisa. She's visiting me while her mother is out of town. Lisa, this is Mrs. Indigo and Violet." "Pleased to meet you, Lisa," said Mrs. Indigo. She took my hand in the gentle clasp that women use. "Your dress is very... um... pretty." "Thank you, Mrs. Indigo," I said. "I really like your hair." It looked the way it always did, a bit tidier than usual, but I knew ladies always trade compliments when they meet, and I wanted to behave the way ladies behaved. "Where's Leonard?" said Violet, eyeing me closely. "At home," Mommy said. "He's not feeling well today." Which was true. At that moment, Leonard, namely me, was terrified that Violet would recognize him. "Shall we sit together?" Mrs. Indigo said. Mommy glanced at me. "By all means." I remembered to smooth my dress under me when we took our places in the pew. Mrs. Indigo sat at one end, Mommy at the other, and Violet and I sat next to each other between them. She, too was wearing a dress, but it was much less foofoo than mine. It was a lavender A-line dress, with cap sleeves, no ruffles or lace and, as far as I could tell, no petticoats. I felt ridiculous sitting next to her, but she seemed to like my outfit and toyed with some of my ribbons and bows. The church service was totally boring. A few times we all stood to sing hymns. I didn't know any of them. I shot a glance at Violet. She didn't, either. I smiled at her, and she giggled. Her mother hushed her. The clergyman gave a long, dull speech based on some random verse in the Bible. I was getting antsy, wondering how long it would last, but a stern look from Mommy quelled my fidgeting. At long last the service ended, and I practically bounced out of the pew before I remembered that as a young lady, I had to be demure. As we walked out the door, the preacher complimented me on my dress. I thanked him, wishing people would stop calling attention to the Lolita in their midst. "Hey, Lisa," Violet said. "Do you want to come over and hang out with me this afternoon? Or does your aunt need you for something?" I looked at Mommy. Mrs. Indigo said, "Oh, do let her come. Violet gets so bored. The girls will keep each other company." "I just hope they don't give you any trouble," said Mommy. "After lunch?" "That'll be fine," Mrs. Indigo said. "And I want you to wear that dress!" Violet told me. Mommy smiled. Violet and her mother walked into the parking lot, and Mommy and I walked home. "Do I really have to wear this dress to Violet's?" I asked. "She did ask," Mommy said., "I thought you loved it. You don't want to wear it?" "She'll make fun of me," I said. "I wish I knew whether she recognized me." "You think she did? I saw no sign." "She gave me a look that might have meant something," I said. "Your feminine intuition?" Mommy smiled. We had lunch at home, and then it was time to decide what to wear to Violet's. I wanted to change into one of my normal dresses, but Mommy wouldn't let me. "Your hostess asked you to wear your Lolita dress," she said. "It would be rude not to. Sure, she might make fun of you for being such a girly girl, but I bet she secretly wants to wear it herself. She'll ask you to swap dresses, you'll see. In which case she'll see you in your slip. I'll lend you a pair of control panties and a panty girdle to make sure nothing shows." She fetched them from her bedroom. "Here, tuck yourself underneath and try these on." I went into the bathroom and struggled to draw the control panty up to my waist - it was at least two sizes too small and was made of a strong, slinky fabric that was hard to stretch. I pulled on the panty girdle over the control panty, looked down and saw a smooth crotch with no sign of a boyish bulge. "Much better," Mommy said when I showed her. "All right, get dressed - and this time, wear the whole outfit, with the wig, ribbons and choker." "Mommy! I'll look even more ridiculous," I whined. "You love that dress! You said so," she said. "You're just embarrassed to let your little friend see you in it, because it's so much frillier and girlier than she is. You'll both get over it. Like I said, she probably wants to try it on. That might even be the reason she invited you to come over." "What kinds of things do girls talk about when they're hanging out?" I said. "At your age? Other girls, mostly, the ones who aren't there. Videos, songs, movies. Boys. Relationships, real or otherwise. Who's besties with who. Who likes someone but is afraid to tell him. How unreasonable your mother is. Clothes. Food. I don't know, I'm not your age." Her list sounded realistic. "If they ask whether I have a boyfriend, what should I tell them?" "The truth. That you don't. Remember, Lisa goes to a different school than Violet. Her school has some cute boys, but Lisa is in no rush to make any of them think he's special." "Thanks, Mom - Mommy," I said. "Now, finish getting dressed," she said. "Violet will shriek when she sees you, and you can tell her all about your Lolita thing." "Oh, she'll know what it is, though I don't know if she's into it." Wearing the whole outfit, include the wig, choker and all three petticoats, I minced down the street to Violet's house. No one else was on the street, thank goodness, but a passing car honked at me. I waited a moment and turned to make sure the car kept going. Whew. Mrs. Indigo answered the door. Violet shrieked and rushed to hug me. She was wearing a dress that was fancier than the one she wore to church. An ankle-length baby blue chiffon dress, probably a bridesmaid's dress, with a high waistline, puff sleeves, lace trim, and a full skirt. It wasn't as goopy as mine, but if she called me frilly, I could frilly her right back. I hugged her back and disengaged to greet Mrs. Indigo properly. "You girls have fun upstairs, and let me know if you need anything," Mrs. Indigo said. She returned to her kitchen. Violet and I hurried upstairs. She was giggling again. Her mom had said she was bored. Maybe she was just excited to have someone over. I still didn't know if she had recognized me. I hoped, hoped, hoped not. Her bedroom was a mix of little girl and budding teenager. A shelf of dolls, including a glittery unicorn and a sparkle pony. A poster of the biggest star of American women's soccer. A protest poster asking the onlooker to save the planet. Clothes scattered all over the place. The closet door stood open, showing more dresses on hangers. "Oh, Lisa, I'm so glad you could come!" Violet said. "Now that you're here, we can have so much fun!" I wondered what kind of fun she had in mind, and immediately found out. "We're the same size, pretty much. Let's switch dresses! I really want to try on your Lolita outfit." "Sure!" I said with fake enthusiasm. I removed the choker and fascinator, and took off the dress and petticoats, leaving me in my slip. Violet took off her dress, too. I felt myself stiffen slightly at the sight of her in bra and panties, and was glad Mommy lent me the control panties and panty girdle to hide my bulge. We swapped outfits and began to get dressed in them. "Are you into the Lolita scene?" Violet was asking. "Not really, I just have the one outfit," I said. "You have very girly tastes," she said. "Well, look at you!" "Oh, I never dress this way," she said. "I live in workout clothes. I put on a dress to make you feel more comfortable about what you're wearing. My God, these petticoats! And the wig, and that little cap thing! And the choker! It makes me look like a pink Alice in Wonderland." "I have to admit, I like the feel of it," I said. "Maybe I should have lived back then." "But then I couldn't have you in my bedroom today," she said. She leaned forward, kissed me on the lips and said softly, "You're a beautiful girl, Leonard." Oh, God. My heart sank. "I'm not Leonard, I'm Lisa!" I sounded lame even to myself. She laughed. "Is that what you call yourself when you're wearing girls' clothes, Leonard?" "Why do you keep calling me Leonard?" She took my face in her hands and kissed me. "Well, because you are Leonard. You have a way of touching your chin that is exactly the way my friend Leonard Deon touches his chin. You're living at Leonard's house, and you showed up at church in place of him, and because I know Leonard's face. It took me a minute because of the way you were dressed, but I realized who you were, and I thought you were lovely. So, do you want to be a girl? I must say, I like you better as Lisa than as Leonard." "Really?" "Really. You're cuter this way, and you make me feel safe. Testosterone makes boys do stupid things. But you're hardly a boy, are you? I think I can trust you to behave." Which I had. "Violet!" I said. "You have to promise you won't tell anyone. The only other person who knows is my mother." "I promise," she said seriously. "I wouldn't do that to you. Not unless you did something terrible to me. I love you, Lisa." "And I love you," I said. "Does your mother know about me?" "I'm certain she doesn't," Violet said. "She wouldn't let a boy come up to my room. Zip me up?" We were now both fully dressed as each other. I loved the feel of the baby blue bridesmaid's dress. It had a built-in petticoat. But the real news was Violet. "Wow!" I said. "You look stunning." The Lolita dress might have been designed to make the most of her Mediterranean looks and svelte figure. Her long black hair needed no wig to make her fascinator fascinating. Her bosom was somewhat more developed than mine, and the petticoated skirt flowed outward and downward from a slenderer waist and broader hips than mine. If I looked cute in it, she was gorgeous with a capital G. "I like the way that dress fits you," Violet said. "It hides the waistline, and the underskirt makes up for your hips. But you must increase your bust." She reached into her bra and pulled out two small silicone breast forms. "Here, try these, I've warmed them up for you." She inserted them into my bra, and adjusted them to sit properly. "I have the same problem as you, not enough on top. But see, you look much better now. At least an A cup." "But I can't just steal your breasts!" I said, surprised and more than a bit stimulated by her sudden actions. "Yes, you can!" She opened a drawer and pulled out two more forms covered with satin. She popped them into her bra, wiggled them around and thrust them out at me. "Satisfied?" "Completely," I said. "Shall we go down and show my mom?" I felt a jolt of fear and fought it down. Mrs. Indigo thought I was a girl. She wasn't about to investigate what was under my skirts. I just had to behave like a girl and I would be safe. Violet's mother gave a cry of pleasure at the sight of us, and immediately picked up her phone to take pictures. I didn't want anyone to have photos of me in a dress, and backed away. "Please take photos of Violet," I said. "I don't want to be photographed." "Oh, don't be silly," Mrs. Indigo said. "The two of you together. Arms around each other's waists." Violet pulled me to her side. She was strong. Our skirts rustled against each other. "Smile!" Click click click. "Mrs. Indigo?" I said. "I don't do social media. Could I ask that you please not post any pictures of me online? You and Violet can look at it, but please don't share it with anyone." Mrs. Indigo looked startled. "You're the only girl in America who's not on Fakebook or Instaglam?" "Lots of girls aren't," I said. "Fakebook is more for people your age. I use Discard." "Oh," she said. "Well, would you girls like some tea?" We certainly would. The three of us sat around the kitchen table and had tea with cream and sugar and a selection of pastel macarons. Mrs. Indigo asked us how school was going, and we both said fine. She asked me if I was involved in any athletics or clubs, and I lied and said I was in the drama club, but worked on sets and lighting and sound rather than acting. She said that was a shame for a pretty girl like me. I said it was good to have girls working backstage as well. We couldn't all be props with cues, as the crew referred to actors. With a sardonic smile, Violet unhelpfully asked what was the last production I worked on. I tried to remember the name of the play we were reading in English. "The Importance of Being Earnest." "You would make a pretty Gwendolen," Mrs. Indigo said. "Thank you," I said too quickly. Wait - wasn't Gwendolen the ditz? "Is it okay that we swapped clothes for fun, Mom?" Violet asked. "Of course! Girls often do," Mrs. Indigo said. "Unlike boys." "Eww!" Violet said. "Imagine a boy swapping clothes with his best friend. Gross!" She shot me a wink. "Lisa, your dress looks lovely on Violet," her mom said. "I so rarely get to see her in any sort of dress." "Thank you, ma'am," I said. "You're so polite. Violet, why can't you be more like Lisa? A perfect little lady." "She is, isn't she?" Violet said. The exchange made me squirm, but I was glad I'd fooled the mother, if not the daughter. We finished the tea and helped Mrs. Indigo carry the things to the kitchen. "Before you go back upstairs, girls, will you let me take a short video?" "Sure, Mom," Violet said before I could object. "I'll count down to one and start filming, and I'd like the two of you to give me a nice curtsy in your pretty dresses," Mrs. Indigo said. "You won't share this, either, will you, Mrs. Indigo?" I said. "No. Well, maybe my sister," she said, "but I'll tell her not to post it." "I'd rather you didn't," I said. "What's wrong with two girls looking lovely?" she said, sounding slightly annoyed. "The two of you next to each other. Show me a practice curtsy." We raised our skirts and bent our knees. I wasn't particularly graceful, but neither was Violet. It seemed we were both out of practice on nineteenth-century social graces. "You'll look darling. Okay, here we go. Three, two, one..." Violet and I curtsied again. Violet blew the camera a kiss. "There! Thank you, girls. How late can you stay, Lisa?" I looked at the clock. It was a quarter to five. Where had the afternoon gone? "I should probably get my clothes on and get home, in case Mom needs help with dinner," I said. "Are you a good cook, Lisa?" Violet asked. She was playing with me, making me invent Lisa stories on the spot. "My Mom's a better one." My answer was both safe and true. Violet turned to her mother. "Is it okay if I have a slumber party next Friday night? I want to invite Katie and Neha, and Lisa, of course," she said. An alarm went off in my head. A slumber party with three other girls - I mean, with three girls - was a scary thought. The odds that my secret would be revealed seemed high, especially since one of the three already knew. The safest thing would be to say no - but then I'd upset Violet, and I wasn't sure Mom would let me turn her down. I'd have to tell Mom tonight. "As long as it's okay with their mothers," Mrs. Indigo said. "Okay, you two, go change back into your own clothes." We returned to Violet's room, where I shed her bridesmaid's dress and she got out of my Lolita outfit. Violet's dress was lighter and more comfortable, but I still preferred my elaborate pink and white outfit. We went back downstairs. "Bye, Lisa," Violet said. We embraced and kissed cheeks. "Come see me again." "Bye, Violet. Bye, Mrs. Indigo. Thanks for the tea." Violet's mother gave me a hug. "Bye, Lisa. Thanks for coming over. We'd love to have you again. You can wear a normal dress next time." "Oh no!" said Violet, and we all laughed. I left and hurried home, not wanting neighbors to see me en femme. "How did it go, dear?" Mommy asked as I closed the front door behind me. "It was fine, except that Violet knows." "That you're not a girl?" "That Lisa is Leonard." "Oh, dear," Mommy said. "Does her mother know?" "Violet says not." "Will Violet keep your secret?" "She says so." "Well, then. As long as you can avoid awkward moments..." "Speaking of awkward moments," I said, "Violet invited me to a slumber party at her house next Friday night. Three girls and me." "Oh, dear," Mommy said. "That is awkward." "If I don't go, I'll hurt Violet's feelings," I said. "If I go, well, I don't know what happens at slumber parties, but if they play naughty games or start tickling or who knows what else, there's a chance I'll be found out." "You should go to the slumber party," Mom said. "You'll learn more about females in one night than you will in a month of deportment lessons. I should warn you that you'll find we're a lot cruder than boys think. We talk about anything and everything." "That's what I'm afraid of." "Tuck your boy parts back between your legs, and then wear the control panty and panty girdle. It's not just to hide your bump, Lisa. It's to make sure it stays hidden. Unfortunately, Violet knows you're a boy. If you wear regular panties that come off easily, what might happen?" "I don't know," I said, embarrassed. "Yes, you do," she said. "Um... sex?" "Not just sex. Since you're both under age, it would be rape. You'd become a registered sex offender. It would ruin your life." "But Mommy! There'll be four of us in the room. Nothing will happen." "Nothing had better happen! If you lower that girdle for any reason except to pee, I'll put you back in boy's clothes." "Oh, no, please don't, Mommy! I'll be good!" "Does Violet excite you, Lisa?" Such a question, from my own mother! "Um, a little. Sometimes my... I get a little stiff. Like when she kissed me." "That's normal, dear, she's very pretty. Did you kiss her back?" "Yes." "Good. Does your... can you stay tucked between your legs when she excites you, or do you... pop out?" "I stay tucked, Mommy. At least so far. It wouldn't be ladylike to pop out." "Exactly so, sweetie. You'll wear your control panty and panty girdle to the slumber party. If the other girls notice and ask, tell them I'm making you work on your waistline. You can whine about it, complain that I'm being unreasonable and it's stupid and sexist and so on - but you will keep your control panty and panty girdle on at all times. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mommy," I said. "I'll lend you a pair of satin pajamas. They're opaque and will do a good job of covering your crotch and breasts. Lots of girls wear jammies or sweats to slumber parties, instead of frilly things like babydolls." "Thanks, Mommy," I said. How pathetic I was, to be thanking her for dressing me in lace-trimmed satin PJs. "Now, while I have Amaze.com open, what else do we need to get you? Let's see... your panty girdle, we'll order two... petticoats for your day dresses... it's probably time you got a garter belt and stockings, even with your skinny hips... some Mary Janes of your own... and maybe a schoolgirl uniform for you to wear while doing homework. You can also wear it to the School of Mom this autumn." I clapped my hands. "Oh! I'd love to have a schoolgirl uniform!" ~ ~ ~ I spent the week dreading the slumber party, imagining all the awful things that could happen. Against my express wishes, Friday evening arrived. I felt more than a little ridiculous dressed in my control panty and panty girdle under a denim skirt, a half-slip and camisole, my A cup bra, and a pink girls' tee. In a bag I brought Mommy's pajamas, slippers, an extra pair of panties, makeup and a hairbrush. I walked down the street, relieved to be wearing normal girl's clothes rather than a Lolita dress in public. Violet introduced me to the other two girls, Katie and Neha. Katie was a tall, slender blonde, all legs. She'd been studying ballet for ten years and danced with our local company. Neha spoke with a soft Canadian accent. Her parents were physicians and born in India, though she was born here. She wanted to go to medical school. I felt like an idiot compared to them. My only achievement was that I had good makeup skills for a boy. I didn't want to tell them my ambition in life, which was to find a job where I could wear women's clothes and pass as a female. For a bunch of reasons, I didn't enjoy the slumber party all that much. I was always afraid that Violet would tell the other girls that I was really a boy, or that they would find out on their own. I didn't know the rules and customs of girls, or of slumber parties. I barely knew Violet, and didn't know Katie or Neha at all, so I was kind of the odd man out - odd girl out? - in much of the conversation, and couldn't contribute to their gossip. Although my voice is high for a boy, I feared it would give me away. They must have thought I was really boring, but the truth was that I'd been a girl for less than a month, and had almost no female experiences to talk about. I had to make stuff up, and tried to do as little of that as possible. It was fun to hear them chatter, though - they had wicked senses of humor, and I squirmed at the thought of how they would make fun of me after tonight. I was impressed by the sheer volume of their words - they talked nonstop, sometimes all at once. We had a good time ordering a giant pizza, dancing to YouTube videos on the big TV, watching an old rom-com, and playing with our hair and makeup. Neha made me up as an Indian lady, with the red dot called a bindi centered between my eyebrows, and my dark hair parted in the middle. "I need a sari and a small fortune in gold jewelry to do you properly, but you look better," she said. Violet's family had enough sleeping bags for all of us, so we bedded down in the living room and changed into our nightwear. I was able to take off my denim skirt and slip into my satin pajama bottoms without anyone noticing my panty girdle. The other girls all wore tank tops or tees and soft shorts to bed, so I left my tee on instead of changing into the satin pajama top. "Ooh, look, Lisa's wearing fancy pants," Violet said. Katie and Neha giggled, but didn't make anything of it, to my considerable relief. Possibly due in part to my presence, the party ran out of steam by midnight. Katie and Neha whispered and giggled for a while after Violet turned the lights out. I needed to pee and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom, where I sat down to relieve myself, wiped afterwards and pulled the panty and girdle back up to my waist. I was convinced they were unnecessary. I was right. No one tried to molest me in the night. We got up, dressed in the clothes we'd worn yesterday and spent some time trying to figure out whose lipstick and nail polish was whose. Mrs. Indigo cooked us a nice breakfast of fried potatoes, onions, peppers and eggs, which we doused with hot sauce, wrapped up in tortillas and inhaled. After breakfast I packed my stuff and said goodbye to the other girls - the girls, that is, I wasn't one of them - and walked home. I was sure they would gossip about me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was kind of depressed, but I had survived intimate exposure to girls my age and had not been discovered... unless Violet was telling them now. Or unless they had immediately spotted me as a boy and somehow had managed to keep straight faces until after I left. They all might be screaming with laughter right now. When I got home, Mom was all questions about what happened. I was honest with her. She concluded that I had actually done well. I hadn't been exposed, had met some new girls who surely would become friends, and had proved once again that I was able to dress and pass as a girl at close range. "Very few boys can do that," she said. "You have a talent." Even if she was just cheerleading, this made me feel better, but the next challenge to my female identity was just a few days away. Mommy was holding her monthly luncheon for her ladies' club or, as Mommy called it, the Pemberley Book Club - and she wanted me to prepare and serve the lunch in my maid's uniform. I didn't know what Pemberley meant, but the club consisted of Mommy and seven of her friends, mostly from our neighborhood, who got together for lunch once a month. Its ostensible purpose was to discuss a book they were all supposed to have read beforehand. In reality, it was an excuse to drink wine in the middle of day and talk about themselves, each other and ladies so unfortunate as not to be present. Living with Mommy, I learned something that many males didn't: Women were much more interested in each other than in men. They mostly talked about, competed with and dressed for other women. The men in their lives rarely deserved mention unless they were heartless pigs, in which case every lady could sympathize with long-suffering wives. ~ ~ ~ The day of the luncheon dawned. When I was Leonard, I retreated to my room during these gabfests. Today, though, I was Lisa, waiting in the foyer to open the door for Mommy's guests and wearing the maid's uniform from my closet. It wasn't a trashy Halloween costume, but an English-style uniform, tea-length black cotton with a tall white collar, long cuffed sleeves, a mob cap, and a white cotton pinafore apron tightly cinched around my waist and tied in a pretty bow in back. Mommy said none of the ladies knew about Lisa, so my challenge was to make them all think I was a real girl who worked for her. She'd spent the past week sharpening my deportment and teaching me etiquette for serving at table, and this morning she'd taken me to the salon for makeup and a blowout. Even so, I was scared that the ladies would spot me as a boy in a dress and make this the most humiliating day of my life. The bell rang. I opened the door. It was one of her ladies, in a pretty day dress. She blinked and said, "Well! I didn't know Emily had a maid!" I curtsied neatly. "My name is Lisa, ma'am, and I'll be serving you today. Mrs. Deon is in the kitchen and hopes you'll join her in a glass of wine." The lady stepped inside. "I certainly will! But look at you! Wearing a uniform, in this day and age, and such a pretty one! Do you work for Mrs. Deon, or are you just here for the day?" "I, uh, work here, ma'am." "Sly Emily! Keeping her maid a secret until now! Well, you look lovely, Lisa, and I believe I have a date with Mr. Chardonnay." She knew the way to the kitchen. I heard her and Mommy shriek at the sight of each other and begin chattering. The doorbell again. A handsome younger lady in a dark gray pencil skirt, white blouse and fuchsia blazer. "Oh, my!" she said at the sight of me. "This is rather elegant." I curtsied. "My name is Lisa, ma'am, and I'll be serving you today. Mrs. Deon is in the kitchen..." "Are you Mrs. Deon's maid?" the woman asked. "I help her with housekeeping, ma'am." "Well, I must say I envy her." "She's in the kitchen, ma'am, and hopes you'll join her for a glass of wine." "Well, I am rather thirsty," she said, and headed that way. Doorbell. Two older ladies in floral tea dresses. Pleasant surprise at the sight of my maid's dress and apron. "My name is Lisa, ladies..." "Look at you! I can't remember the last time I saw a real maid..." And so on, until all seven guests had arrived and joined the happy chatter in the kitchen. A few of them came over to take a closer look at my uniform. I was nervous, but they were more interested in my clothes than in me. One wanted a peek at my petticoat, and another asked if I had to wear the uniform all the time. I told her no, just for special events. She seemed disappointed. When Mommy started ushering them out of my kitchen and into the dining room, I set the oven to broil, got out the French loaf that I'd sliced and spread with garlic butter and sprinkled with parmesan cheese that morning, and arranged the slices on a pan so that they'd toast evenly. When the oven was hot, I slid the pan under the broiler. I got out the antipasto salad I'd made in advance and dished servings onto plates. Two kinds of salami, provolone and mozzarella choose, tomatoes, canned artichokes, roasted red pepper, Kalamata olives and green olives, all cut into bite-size pieces, dressed with olive oil, vinegar, ground pepper and shredded basil leaves. When the garlic bread was the perfect shade of brown, I pulled it out of the oven, placed a slice on each plate and quickly served the ladies. I retreated to the kitchen, fetched an open bottle of the white and red wines, and circled the table, refilling glasses that needed it. Most did. I opened two more bottles in the kitchen and placed them out to the table so that the ladies could help themselves. Back in the kitchen, I took a deep breath and tried to relax. Things seemed to have gone well so far. No one had spotted me for a boy yet. The other ladies were asking Mommy questions about me, but they sounded envious rather than suspicious. I heard a bell ring in the dining room. I entered and curtsied. "You rang, ma'am?" "Yes, Lisa. You may clear, and please open another bottle of the chardonnay." "Yes, ma'am." I cleared the plates in two trips to the kitchen, opened another bottle of the white and placed it on the table. Back in the kitchen, I started the coffee machine. As it bubbled, I took the store- bought tiramisu out of the fridge, dished up eight servings and took them into the ladies. "Excuse me, ladies," I said, "will anyone want coffee?" Four hands went up. As I turned to go to the kitchen, someone grabbed my butt, and several of the ladies, who by this point were feeling no pain, laughed. "Hands off my maid!" Mommy said in mock anger, provoking more laughs. Humiliated, I turned to face them and backed into the kitchen to protect my bottom. Laughter followed me through the door. A raucous conversation ensued on the other side of the door. I couldn't hear most of it. Mommy rang her bell again. I returned to the dining room, standing out of pinching range. Curtsied. "You rang, ma'am?" "The natives are restless, Lisa," Mommy said, prompting giggles around the table. "They would like you to see more of your uniform." I became nervous. "How do you mean, ma'am? Do you want me to undress?" "Just lift your skirt for now and show them your petticoat. Describe it for them." I raised the skirt of my dress and apron, exposing the underskirt. What could I say about it? "My petticoat is made of white taffeta, ladies," I said. "It has three tiers and is quite full. If it were less full, I might have to wear two petticoats. Um, as you know, taffeta rustles loudly, so my petticoat makes a lot of frou-frou as I walk." I swished it around my hips so they could hear it. "Like most petticoats, mine is trimmed in lace to make it look pretty when someone catches a glimpse of it under my dress." "Show us your panties!" cried one woman in a drunken voice. The other ladies picked up the chant. "Show us your panties! Show us your panties!" I looked at Mommy, who nodded. Blushing, I lifted my skirts to my waist to reveal my panty girdle. I had on my control panty under it, so I showed no trace of a male bump. "Oh my God, a girdle!" one of them said. More laughter. I wanted to disappear. I wondered if any of the ladies wore a girdle, or if mine was the only old-fashioned foundation garment in the room. These days, they more likely wore Spanx. "All right, that's enough, ladies!" Mommy said, and they calmed down a bit. "Lisa, the ladies also would like to thank you for a wonderful lunch and excellent service. Some of them want to rent you to serve for them, but I'm not sure I want to let you out of my sight. They'll try to steal you from me." More laughs. "Thank you, ma'am," I said with a curtsy. "I'm afraid you'll have to tell them that I don't want to want to work for anyone but you." Comic moans and groans. "Well, there you have it," Mommy told her friends. "I declare this meeting of the Pemberley Book Club adjourned." With that the ladies rose, a bit unsteadily in some cases, and chatted as they fetched their purses and wraps. I stood by the front door to open it for them, giving each a small curtsy as she departed. When the last was gone, I leaned back against the door, let my knees collapse and sank to the floor, my skirts in disarray. "Oh, well done, Lisa!" Mommy said. "None of them had a clue! You passed perfectly!" "Thanks, Mommy," I said. She leaned over and kissed the top of my head. "Your uniform was perfect, your deportment was perfect, and your voice was good enough. Oh, how I wish I could somehow make Leonard disappear and replace him with you!" I had an idea. "What if he went to live with his father?" Her eyes opened wide. "That's interesting. It might work as a cover story... but then who's Lisa?" "She's not your maid, she's your favorite niece, who moved here to attend Uni." "Uni? You're fourteen!" she said. "Lisa may look young, but she's actually sixteen, quite intelligent, and she graduated from high school a year early. She's going to study... um... the history of domestic science." Mommy looked thoughtful. "I actually kind of like that story. I just wish you could be my daughter instead of a niece." "I'm your niece once removed. My parents died in an awful accident. In their will, they asked you to legally adopt me." She cocked her head at me. "So, instead of my son, you're my stepdaughter?" "Yes, Mommy." "You're such a clever girl, Lisa." I curtsied, spreading my skirts wide. "Do you want me to be the maid for your next club luncheon, Madam?" "I'm afraid you have no choice," she said. "They loved you." "I'm so glad," I said. "I do have one question, though." "Yes?" "What's Pemberley?" The End