Erin's Boy (Chapter 10) free porn video

-----Chapter 10: Spirit Week----- Erin's alarm woke both of us up, although much earlier than I'd usually arise for school. I had forgotten it was Jettsville Spirit Week leading up to Halloween this weekend, but Erin was aware and ready as always. "By the way, you should start coming over here before school to get dressed. It'll be easier that way." It was more than fine with me. I had no idea what spirit day it was anyway, so I was in her hands. She checked the flyer she had taken home as a reminder. Monday: sports day. An evil smile crept across Erin's face as she turned back to me. Quickly, she entered her closet and came out wearing an oversized football jersey that made it seem like she wasn't wearing any bottoms, even though she had some short shorts underneath. On a hanger in her right hand she held up a cheerleading uniform, her own. "Gosh, really?" I asked, with more faux resistance than I'd ever given her before. "You bet. Come on let's get you ready." Erin made me remove the extensions before showering, and as I washed up she left my underwear for the day on the counter. Since I was going the full cheerleader route, this meant blue and green boyshorts which concealed everything they needed to if my skirt flared out, which was much more likely for a cheerleader on the field than an average girl in the hallway. I'd seen dancers wear similar tight booty shorts for the same purpose. I wore a sports bra on top, blue and green again for our school colors. Nothing flashy, but with my new boobs I noticed a big difference in how they were secured, relative to a normal bra or none at all. The uniform itself was in two pieces, a white crop top with green and blue athletic striping around the sleeves and midriff opening, and a short straight skirt with the same color scheme. They both fit snugly but not uncomfortably, although the five inches of midriff or so that I was showing certainly felt very exposed. Like the uniform, Erin's white cheerleading sneakers were a bit small for me, but were fine enough to make it one day. "I'll do your eyes but then I need to take care of myself so you'll have to do anything else you want on your own," she told me. I sat down at the vanity chair again, facing her to the side. With the same eyeshadow palette as yesterday, she stroked a school- matching blue color on the outside of my lid, and an emerald green on the inside. She then grabbed some loose glitter and began patting it into both of my eyelids, enhancing the shadow. She also placed a bit on my cheeks for added flare. Returning to her own look, I put on mascara myself, and asked her what I should do for my lips. "Oh I think I have one," she said undistracted as I watched her paint her face and press on a small temporary tattoo of a fighting billy goat, our school mascot. She perused through her drawer of lip products and pulled out a hot pink liquid lipstick, and handed it to me. I had only applied a stick before, but it wasn't hard to figure out the wand. I applied the exceptionally bright pink liquid and watched it dry to a matte on my lips, finishing the look. I made a kissing motion towards the mirror and stood up, ready to go. Erin was finished too. Her jersey was for the local state college team in azure blue, with a big white number 15 on the back. That was her father's number from back in the day, although it belonged to someone else now on the team. Luckily, that player's name was nowhere on the Jersey, so she and Clyde pretended it was actually to support him. She also had white sneakers, and stuck to the blue theme with her very light makeup: just a thin stripe of blue eyeliner along her eyes and the temporary tat on her cheek. I really liked when girls did that. "Just our hair and we're good to go!" she said as she secured and pulled my blonde extensions into two high side ponytails, and tied each with two ribbons in lovely bows, one blue and one green per side. Her hair was a single high pony in the back, and secured with a ribbon as well, but hers only in blue. And just like that, I was fully dressed in Jettsville High's official cheer uniform, recognizable from the JHS letters in the middle of my chest. If not for my lack of comparative lack of gymnastic skills, I was indistinguishable from a real school cheerleader, but I'd be noticeable nonetheless since real cheerleaders wouldn't be wearing their uniforms today. Like Erin, they preferred to do something different than the uniform they actually have to wear on the regular, which made sense. "Oh I almost forgot!" Erin said, as she dashed into her closet again to return with two shiny blue and green pompoms for me to hold and shake around all day. It certainly completed the look. The only thing that didn't really match was my still red nails, but we didn't have time to redo them on such short notice this morning, and it didn't matter too much anyway. Erin made a point to set aside more time for the rest of the week to make sure she could do her absolute best. Erin drove us to school and it occurred to me that with my new hair and new boobs, I might actually be unrecognizable. At first, it sure seemed to be so. I got stares, but they weren't the same "oh my God look what she did to Lucas" stares which I had gotten used to. They were "who is that and why don't I have her number?" stares, which I happily accepted. I actually think I had almost gotten away with it until I started doing very recognizable things like sitting in my assigned seats in class and using my locker. News traveled and I think I even caught a few gasps from the crowd. "But...he has boobs now?" "Yeah I guess, I mean look at his hair too." Even Roger approached me for one of the first times since this whole thing began. I was eating lunch alone when he sat across from me. "Lucas?" he asked, almost genuinely questioning whether it could be me. "Hi Roger, how are things?" My question was real curiousity, I hadn't talked to him much at all for the past few weeks. "Nothing is new with me, frankly at all. You're the real story here. How is it? Is she cruel? Did she make you wear those?" I assumed by "those" he meant the breast forms, but frankly any part of the getup would fit the question. I answered honestly. "It sucked at first, but now I don't really mind as much. I mean look at me...I'm hot." I went on. "She was never too mean to me except for the blackmail - oh, by the way, she blackmails all of her boys which is why they put up with it - but honestly, she's a nice girl with just a very unusual hobby." The old me would have been shocked to call that tormentor a nice girl, even if I had a crush on her at that time. And describing her capture and feminization of local boys as "an unusual hobby," was certainly an understatement. "I guess it could have been more difficult but to be honest I just kind of went along with it and it's been fine. It's a new experience for sure, super weird, but not as bad as I thought. I guess I actually don't mind looking like a real girl, especially since I kind of get away with it. I'd rather look like a regular girl than a boy in makeup if that makes any sense, it's almost worse if you make it seem too much like you hate it." "Well I can't believe I'm seeing you this way," Roger replied, "but I guess if you're happy and it's not too bad then I wish you the best. Hope I'll see you some time soon, maybe once you're free if you have some more time then." "I will, and I look forward to it. Maybe I can teach you a thing or two about girls." I very unsubtly winked. "Not sure about that, chief, but it was nice to catch up. Stay in touch, and good luck the rest of the week. If I don't talk to you beforehand, I'll see you at Mack's Halloween party right?" "I don't think she'd let me miss that for anything. So long partner." "Oh and Lucas," Roger hesitated, "you look really pretty." The rest of the week was nothing particularly remarkable, but each morning I would go to Erin's to find out the next spirit day and get in whatever absurdly feminine outfit she had put together for the occasion. It seemed like there was nowhere to really keep escalating from here, I was already ostensibly at maximum displayable levels of girl, and so there was nothing more to fear. For the first time, days actually seemed to go by quickly, and hardly anything of note actually happened at school itself. Erin was also getting ready for the Halloween party which Mack McGraves had volunteered to host this year. That was good news, since his parents were loaded and his place was huge. Knowing Erin, she would be very ready for the occasion, with both her outfit and mine. Tuesday was mismatch day, which I had to imagine must have been either Erin's nightmare, because her whole style depended on skilled outfit coordination and matching, or it could have been her daydream because it gave her wiggle room not to care about that for a day. Regardless of her disposition about it, she was going to participate, because that's what you do when you're the most well-known girl in school. She set out for me a black blouse with white polka dots and a classic red and green tartan schoolgirl skirt which, as desired, matched horribly. One knee high rainbow sock and one short white ankle sock with ruffles lead down to one gold and one purple flat each, and I wore one 80s style mesh glove on my left hand, and a gold bracelet on the right. I think Erin probably wanted to mix up a heel and a flat as well, but walking like that would have been terrible and I'm glad she came to her senses not to try it. Erin's outfit was comparably disgusting, as was our makeup. I had one eye shadowed in yellow and the other deep purple, and my hair was held up in in three high ponytails in a triangle. One was held in place by a big white scrunchy with big blue polka dots, one had a pink spiral cord band, and the last used just a regular purple hair tie. To seal the deal, she painted my upper lip in blue lipstick while my bottom with an orangey-red tone, both of which she used on herself as well but flipping the lips. Between us, we had 2 or three complete outfits that could look presentable, but when all mixed together like this we looked like a total mess and laughed all day at ours and everyone else's poor choice of style. Wednesday was basically a layup for her: pink day, for breast cancer awareness. Erin had no lack of pink at all in her vast library of clothing, and we must have used the majority of it. She actually let me help construct the look, probably because it was fairly easy and I couldn't go wrong. I had a hard time picking between a dress or a skirt, but eventually settled on a faux-leather, metallic pink mini skater skirt to go with a much lighter pink tee shirt top, over vibrant pink panties and bra of course. Based on my choice, Erin found a pair of incredible pink suede 4 inch pumps, which lifted me up proudly. I went to work with my hair, but Erin stopped me. "I have something for you, hold on," she said, and started removing the extensions from my scalp. "Wigs aren't good for every day, but on the right occasions they really work." From behind her back emerged in her hand the wig in mind, an almost luminescent hot pink stack of tight Shirley Temple style ringlet curls flopping over the entire thing. I bowed forward to receive my new hair, and she slipped it over my scalp and adjusted the look until it was perfectly straightened out and arranged. I noticed a couple long tube curls fell at each side of my face, slightly in my field of view. It was fake as hell, but pretty cute, and only reached the tops of my shoulders or so. By now I could do a lot of makeup by myself, although not necessarily that well. I got started on my own look while she was still dressing as a little surprise for when she finished. My eyes were easy: bold, slightly shiny pink eyeshadow and normal mascara did the trick. Erin had a sparkly pink eyeliner that I'd never seen her wear before, but I decided it might work with the theme. After all, even if it was too much today's theme was impossible to overdo. I added a thin line of glimmer just above my eyes, and it worked with the rest of my eye look perfectly. I used a pink blush on my cheeks and certainly used too much, but I wasn't going for subtle after all. Finally for my lips, I took out a glittery pink lip gloss and coated my upper and lower lips with the doe- foot applicator. It took two layers to really get the pigment and shine that I wanted, but by the end my lips were perfectly shiny and glimmery all at once, and as I looked in the mirror, my whole image was pink as could be. Erin emerged in a light pink A-line dress with hot pink tights underneath, a bold combination for someone older than middle school, but for today, a successful one. She chose some basic pink flats to complete her juvenile look, and she smiled brightly as she saw I had done my own makeup. I could tell from her face it wasn't perfect, but perfection wasn't the point so much as my willingness. Some pink earrings went in each of our ears, and we were off. Pink day was fun because some other boys were willing to push the envelope a little bit too, although not nearly as much as I did. I saw one or two boys in pink nail polish to go along with their pink shirts or sweatshirts which obviously belonged to their girlfriends or girl friends. All for the cure, right? It was oddly reassuring that, in moderation, boys weren't all afraid to do something feminine. I don't know if I ever would have done something like that on my own accord in the life I lived pre-Erin, but I always respected the people who would lightly push against boundaries in that way, at least when they had a good excuse to. After school I had been coming home to either an empty house or my mother, who seemed to love her little 2:30pm surprise each afternoon, especially since I was leaving in the mornings in regular clothing to go to Erin's now. Mom wasn't in love with my cheerleader uniform on Monday, which I think she believed to be too provocative (as if other girls didn't wear them all the time...) but she liked my mismatch day look a lot and I had a feeling she might love my all-pink outfit. I was right. She squealed a little bit when I first entered the house, although I still think my boobs really freaked her out, based on frequent noticeable glances at my chest. Apparently, girls do see that kind of thing. I should probably tell my friends that. Anyway, mom didn't totally know, per se, that I had breast forms on, but she knew that either Erin was masterful at stuffing a padded bra to make it look completely real, or something more expensive was happening. Many mothers might like to see their son in a dress every now and again, but thinking about his fake boobs is another thing entirely. Mom seemed uncomfortable asking about it, and frankly I did too, so the topic never came up even though she could tell something was fishy. Thursday was goth/scene/emo day, which I felt was honestly surprising and slightly inappropriate, not because gothness was not appreciated, but because real people actually dressed like that and it seemed rude to make fun of real people's style like a spirit day was tacitly supposed to do. Regardless of my apprehensions, however, the day was happening, and that meant Erin had something for me to wear. At this point I was participating in her little game cheerfully, and even if I wasn't, every day was another closer to freedom. Having come so far, there didn't seem much point in giving up. When I arrived at Erin's she was already dressed, which was very unusual since we typically got ready together. I had a guess why, though. Every other day, Erin knew just what she would wear, down to the last detail. But goth wasn't really a style in her repertoire, and some experimentation would be needed to make sure she pulled it off perfect. That meant waking up extra early to test outfits, since it might take multiple attempts. She was already when I arrived, of course, because her first try turned out great and the extra time was not needed in the end. The girl I greeted was hardly recognizable as Erin, covered in all black clothing, hair, and makeup, yet maintaining a certain cuteness that resembled an older, hotter, Wednesday Addams. She grabbed me with her hand, tipped with very long fake black fingernails, and guided me inside. The first thing she did was remove her old manicure job from the weekend, and apply a set of acrylic black nails which were pointed at the ends and extended well beyond my fingertips, like hers. I wish she had done my nails later in the process though, since the new long tips were completely foreign to me and getting dressed with them was a challenge I didn't realize would be so tricky at first. She gave me underwear to change into as usual, this time a black panty and a bright red bra, which seemed very out of place but I knew better than to argue. I then pulled on a pair of large-holed fishnet tights, which was particularly difficult with my new long nails, but after a few attempts my legs were covered in the black lace netting which held up around my waist. The main outfit was a combination of a black mini skater skirt, the waistband of which Erin rolled up once to make it even shorter, and a translucent black mesh top with long sleeves that clung over my whole torso and tucked into the skirt at the bottom. My bra was fully visible through the fabric, and the tight fit showed off my titties in a way that was more suited for a dance club than a school. If I were anyone besides Erin's boy I'd be dress coded and sent home immediately, but my privilege, or more accurately, Erin's privilege, allowed me to get away with looking like a harlot on occasion. In retrospect, being kicked out of school for wearing what she told me would have been a blessing in the beginning, but I was never destined for that luxury. Erin procured a thick black leather belt with silver holes and secured it around my waist, leaving about 8 inches of tail hanging off at my side, which was apparently part of the look. My shoes were huge chunky faux- military style block platform boots with laces on top and a slight heel, even though the entire sole was a solid 2 inches thick, elevating me from the ground. They were almost stranger to walk in than regular heels, though not more difficult, just weirder; I was worried about breaking an ankle from a misstep. Finally, she gave me two short black lace fingerless fishnet gloves which gave just an extra bit of black to cover my hands and match my legs. Blonde hair wasn't going to do the trick today, so instead of extensions Erin found a dark but vibrant blue wig and placed it on my head. It was cut in a straight voluminous layers that made it seem like I had put in a lot of effort to try and appear like I just woke up. I thought it was pretty of sexy in a scene-raven-egirl kind of way, but Erin interrupted my self-admiration to get started on makeup. Eyes were first, just like on our date night. Multiple coats of deep black mascara and a very thick, winged eyeliner were about what I expected, but Erin had even more in mind for my eyeshadow, which she skillfully blended into my upper lids with black and silver shades. On the underside of my eyes, she lightly added a hint of blue on the inside and red on the outside, for a pop of color. I was amazed. Then she moved on to face makeup, and I realized why it was so important to do eyes first: the foundation she had chosen for both of us was a very, very pale shade that would have been ruined if any black eye makeup had fallen out into it. After she blended the light liquid into every corner of my face and down my neck, I took on an almost vampiric look, except for the pink bra and blue hair providing an electric contrast. With a tube of liquid eyeliner, Erin focused deeply as she drew a small heart at the tops of both of my cheeks, just under each eye. It was very in theme and it reminded me of the internet hotties I'd seen wearing makeup like that before. I never thought I'd become one of the big titty goth GFs I used to wank to sometimes. I could probably have seduced Elon Musk if I really wanted to Finally, no goth look would be complete without a generous coat of deep black lipstick, which Erin was already wearing. No light escaped from black hole that the lipstick seemed to be as she drew it up from its silver tube and applied multiple layers onto my generous lips. My newly painted eyes and mouth stuck out boldly from my pale foundation, and my stare became piercing as my confidence under this look grew more and more powerful. For a final detail, she gave me an elegant black lace choker that covered most of my neck tightly, with a few black teardrop-shaped plastic decorations hanging throughout the multiple vertical layers. Erin wore a studded dog collar. I liked mine a lot better even if it was a bit uncomfortable. Just like pink day was a sea of pink, goth day was a sea of black, although I noticed some girls taking more of a bright colored scene approach too. Oddly enough, the ever day goths looked kind of underdone, since they came in their normal wear. It was fun to be trying styles right before Halloween that most people just didn't ever attempt normally. There was an excuse during spirit week to try new things without judgment, which I never really appreciated before, but I wondered now if anyone might start integrating this style into their everyday outfits because they found they liked how it looked and felt for them. It would be socially insane to try something crazy like going goth for a day during the normal year, and maybe that was too limiting. It got me thinking about how I would never have tried women's clothes without Erin basically making me, and by now I'd really come to like the way I looked and felt in dresses and makeup. I guessed that some other boys would too, if they didn't have social stigma and embarrassment to worry about. Even the teachers were getting in on the fun, and even some of the old guys had eyeliner on like I imagined they wore in their rock star days way back when. I could tell that they, and the women too, were uncomfortable with the full display of my bra and cleavage completely unhidden by the transparent mesh top. Nevertheless, nothing was said, and nothing had to be. I could barely write with my long nails, which made English class a particular struggle, and I wondered how other girls managed to figure out certain tasks with the burden of long nails in the way. At home, this outfit was particularly striking to mom, who was doing laundry. It hadn't occurred to me how weird it was for her to be cleaning my new girl clothes that I took home every day, since they were accumulating each day. "Oh my," was all she could say as she saw my goth day apparel. I could tell she didn't like it, and out of respect for her and my own discomfort I changed out of the aggressive clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt, and scrubbed off the black lipstick. I didn't like wearing wigs much so I removed that too, but kept my eye makeup on just because I liked it. Mom noticed I was doing that more often, keeping my girl clothes on when I was fully able to change back. She must have thought it was good Dad was on that trip, or else he might start to think I like this, and that was a whole conversation both of us had no desire to have. Mostly, because he would be right. You'd think at this point I might look forward and figure out what the spirit days are in advance, but I'm neither very perceptive nor very forward looking, if you haven't figured that out yet. I kept the days a surprise for the same reason that I kept her packages unopened in prior weeks. I'd rather learn about it and deal with it all at the same time each day. You can imagine my surprise when I arrived at Erin's house as usual on Friday morning, and Clyde was still home. I always got there after he had already begun his morning shift and Erin let me in alone, but today Clyde answered the door, not surprised to see me. He was surprised, however, at the way my tee shirt tented over fake boobs and I caught him stealing an inquisitive glance - not ogling, but giving away a bit of obvious confusion. "Erin, your boyfriend is here," he called out, and she came scrambling down. "I told you I would get it!" she said in a jokingly frustrated tone. From there we returned to routine as she grabbed my arm and rushed us up the stairs to get started. "Do you know what day it is today?" she asked me. "No, do I ever?" I said with a bit of sass. "Well... it's gender bender day! Boys are dressing as girls and girls are dressing as boys, how fun!" So it was basically crossdressing day. What were the odds? "Ok," I replied. "So what I'm just wearing a normal outfit? Like last week?" "Well, kind of," she answered. "You can leave on what you have." "What?" I asked, confused. "Lily, it's gender bender day so you have to dress as a boy today. You already put on the right stuff this morning as a stroke of luck, so your outfit is all set. I just need to stick this fake mustache on you and remove your nail polish and you're good to go, and I'll throw on some loose jeans and one of my dad's shirts and we can get on our way." It didn't take long for her to remove my long black nails and attach comically large faux mustache to my upper lip. So this was her idea of torment, huh? On the one day it would have been normal to wear what I had been wearing for weeks, I got to prove a point by playing a caricature of a boy instead. I was still acting the girl role, because of course I was. I almost felt denied. On my chance to prove that I could be the boy in the dress with the most experience and talent, I'd be stuck in my lazy rag clothing that I threw on this morning with no effort at all. I never really even thought about the outfit I wore to Erin's because it always came right off. Erin pulled her own hair up into a bun and stuck it beneath an oversized baseball cap, with a brown handlebar mustache matching mine. When we got to school, I noticed participation was a bit lower for this one, although still present. Maybe a third of the boys decided this spirit day was dumb and didn't participate, and the majority of the rest did something of a halfway measure, like wearing a girl's tee shirt or a skirt, but not both. Some boys wore a bit of nail polish or lip gloss and pinned their hair back, but without an outfit to match. A small but very visible subset actually put together complete girl's outfits, but that wasn't very many. Maybe one or two were nearly passable, more likely to be the boys whose mothers or girlfriends got involved in the dress up. And I, like Erin and most of the girls at school that day, wore boy jeans and a boy shirt and boxers (if they could find a pair) with long hair concealed to try and appear masculine. Some even painted on a light grey fake five-o-clock shadow which I found really funny, but mostly, I was annoyed. My clothes felt scratchy and hardly soft at all. I'd spent weeks getting rid of my little growing-in mustache just to put on another one with tape. My basic men's tennis shoes made me feel short and ratty, and altogether unkempt, even though for a boy I looked halfway decent. Even my now blonde hair fell naturally into a somewhat androgynous style, and with hardly a push became boyish again. It was...uncomfortable, and worst of all, my getup with the mustache fully implied that I was a girl without any of the prettiness to go with it. Erin walked with me in the hallway after lunch. "Look around you Lily, look at all these boys dressed as girls and just imagine what it could be like if they were all like you. Just like this, but better, all of them dressed in pretty skirts and dresses and makeup, and the girls in their normal clothes too. Wouldn't that be amazing?" I wasn't really sure where she was going with this, but I kept listening. "That's my dream, Lily. You were the most successful test run I could ever have, but with only my resources I don't know how I could upscale. Managing one new girl at a time is a lot of work to go with what I already have to do for school and work and family and friends. This might be the best I could do, going boy to boy and making them a girl for a little while before I have to get someone else. I wish there was enough time to do every one of you loser boys but it's already junior year, and it doesn't work right if I have to rush." "Lily, will you be honest with me?" I nodded. "Do you feel like you've grown from this experience? Do you think you've left some of your old disgusting boy behaviors behind? Are you afraid of femininity anymore?" I think my stunned silence made my answer clear. "Exactly," she continued without my response. "Right now this is just a fantasy, but maybe you can help me. Would you do that for me?" I was at a crossroads. If I said no, I'd lose her. She would move on to feminizing some other boy, and I doubted she would want to continue our relationship, whatever that was. On the other hand, was I really willing to assist in her weird torture that I'd observed for two years before becoming a chosen victim? "Man"-kind would mark me as a traitor to my own sex, and to masculinity itself. My silence gave away my struggle. I was lucky, she didn't want a direct answer yet. "I think you might need some time to think about what I'm asking you to do, but I think you know deep down what you really want. How do those clothes feel?" She recognized my discomfort, and knew I didn't like it. Weeks ago I would have given anything to be back in these clothes every day. Now suddenly I was in a sort of femininity withdrawal, like it was addictive to feel the freedom of a skirt and the softness of a girl's top compared to a boring, scratchy cotton tee. Some boys commented their surprise on my outfit, especially the ones who had actually done some dressing up. "Damn dude, I thought we might match today!" said a boy in a schoolgirl outfit, his short hair held up in little tiny pigtails. "I thought you were gonna steal the show today, like usual," said another kid who I thought was a freshman. He had a pink sweatshirt that probably belonged to his older sister, and some basic makeup that might go unnoticed to some boys, but I certainly was trained now to notice. The real killer was the mustache. That meant I wasn't a boy trying to avoid the spirit day, but a girl trying to participate. I don't think everyone got the symbolism, but some did, including Roger, who gave me an almost remorseful look. He wasn't wearing anything feminine, not his thing I guessed. I came home and ripped off my mustache. I had a lot to think about. For one thing, the Halloween party was tomorrow. Erin was intent on making my costume a surprise, and it dawned on me just how long I had been in her grasp for. I'd worn just about every girly item I could think of; I didn't know what more she could have in mind for her big moment. There was also the matter of her odd proposition to me, and while the exact nature of "helping her" wasn't clear, it would certainly be aiding and abetting her process of turning more boys into her submissive, feminine girls, and being a part of that was intimidating and horrifying, but also kind of exciting too. I did think it was interesting watching some boys before me transform, and although they never reached the feminine heights I did, there were some that got fairly close. I had to imagine that future victims would be held closer to my standard than theirs. Then again, maybe I was special. Let's not forget as well that she was truly the girl of my dreams, and just to spend time with her and maybe even stay her boyfriend/girlfriend would be worth almost anything. I decided to wear my nightie that mom had bought me to bed. I had a big day tomorrow, and after a day of itchy boy clothes I wanted the feminine softness back, and the soft violet dress just reaching over some white panties with red roses gave me the cozy touch I needed to fall asleep gently, and wake up ready for tomorrow.