💾 Archived View for tilde.pink › ~nifty › tv › discovering.gmi captured on 2024-05-10 at 13:12:30. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content

View Raw

More Information

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Date: Sat, 20 May 2000 22:26:25 +0100

From: Debbie Sanderson <debbie@girltalk.demon.co.uk>

Subject: TG: Story Submission - 'Discovering"

DISCOVERING - A SHORT STORY BY DEBBIE SANDERSON

(c) 2000 all rights reserved.

Individuals may freely re-post it, Archive it, Enjoy it.

Not for money, nor commercial use.

~~~~~~~~~

The cool shade of the house was a welcome respite for James as

he made his way up the stairs to the bathroom. With the

exception of an occasional shriek or giggle from the party that

was in full swing in the beautiful sun-drenched garden, the

house was quiet.

Having made room for further intake of fizzy pop, and Mrs.

Clements delicious chocolate cake, he left the bathroom and was

about to make his way back down the stairs to rejoin the

birthday celebration - when something caught his eye. It was

just a ray of sunlight that was glinting off a dressing-table

mirror and out through the partly open bedroom door, but might

well have been a lighthouse beacon for the effect it had on the

nine-year-old.

He wasn't sure why, but he found his hand resting upon a pink

plate affixed to the door, bearing two simple words: "Denise's

Room". He held his breath in reverence and stepped into the

inner sanctuary of his pretty little playmate.

Eyes like saucers gazed around, drinking in the utter

girlishness of the room with its pastel wallpaper, pink drapes

and frilly bedclothes. A ballerina looked down from a poster in

dismay at seeing a boy daring to enter this holy place, but the

dolls on the shelves said nothing - save for perhaps exchanging

a knowing inaudible whisper amongst themselves.

James was surprised that such a neat and pretty girl might

leave clothes apparently strewn around, then realised that the

birthday girl had had a last minute change of heart, as girls

are prone to. The frilly orange and white dress draped across a

chair had been the victim of a substitution.

He didn't recall seeing her wearing it, but could imagine her

blonde hair decorated with ribbons, draped down over the short

puffy sleeves and the short frilly skirt flaring out as she

skipped and twirled. What a pity that such a lovely dress - her

dress - was left to languish.

He wasn't sure why he did it, but he reached out and ran his

fingers over cool satin and let them play for a moment with the

soft frills. Full of awe he picked up the little dress and held

it close to his chest as though it would somehow make the owner

closer to him. The elation of being in this little girl heaven

was tinged with sadness that such a pretty dress could ever

come second in any contest.

A bizarre idea entered his head and he fought to beat down the

foolishness of it. Why, the very thought was ridiculous, but

James was now fighting the surge of adrenaline that caused much

stronger men than him to buckle.

Reverence demanded that the job be done correctly, or not at

all, and despite his tender years James was nothing if not

thorough. The dress found its way back to the chair and he set

about peeling off his shorts and T-shirt.

His heart was pounding and he could hear his blood thrashing

in harmony as he checked draw after drawer in the small chest

before him. Quickly he found his treasure and chose a pair of

pink nylon panties with a white lace trim. Whilst wanting to

savour the moment he knew that time was short and quickly

slipped them on, delighting in the feminine softness that hid

his excitement.

A party dress such as this required nothing less than one of

those flared and floaty under-dress things that girls seemed

to wear on special occasions. A brief foray into the wardrobe

came up trumps, and he was soon lowering the mass of layers and

frills over his slender frame, marvelling at how such a volume

could remain so light. He allowed himself a deep crimson blush

as the absurdity of what he was doing fought to get his

attention.

He couldn't find any shoes to wear, but settled for a pair of

white socks, which were trimmed with a rather pretty lace edge

that frilled out like a clown's ruff. Satisfied that his

underwear was now appropriate to the main event, he smiled at

the dress.

The orange satin was cool to his touch and slid over his bare

arms almost effortlessly as though the dress had been made for

him. Unlike the plain sleeves of his discarded T-shirt, the

elasticated puff sleeves gently caressed his biceps in a new

and gentle way.

The buttoned back proved to be a challenge but James settled

for fastening the top one only, which brought the lovely white

lace-trimmed collar prettily under his chin in a most charming

way.

He wanted to do more for his hair but didn't think he had the

time or the skills to tackle ribbons, not on his first attempt

at dressing, anyway. He chose two small white barrettes as

acceptable alternatives and slipped them into his hair to give

a more feminine touch. He felt guilty at his actions but

reasoned that his borrowing would do no harm.

The moment had come when he approached the long wardrobe

mirror, and the little sweetheart engulfed in layers of pretty

frills smiled back at him. He could feel a lump in his throat

and his eyes become misty at the joy of it all. He had known

for some time that there was something missing from his life

but now knew that it was a "someone", rather than a

"something". The little girl inside had made her debut at last

and he knew he was complete.

As James fluffed and frilled his little dress he was in a

little world of his own, a world of girlish, feminine fun. So

much so that he hadn't realised that a certain little birthday

girl had been watching him from the door for some time.

Denise knew that something very special had happened and that

their relationship would never be the same again. It would be

softer, sweeter, and perhaps more intimate - but never the

same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Debbie Sanderson

www.girltalk.co.uk