Blake really wasn't enjoying his options on what to wear and this was his first time dressing up as a girl on his own. He didn't even want to wear any of his new wardrobe and Liz had been the one to pick things out before. The choice of panties had been done just like the day before when he had to choose, random. The first thing he pulled out was a thong, and all lace, it was a nonstarter. The second thing was also a thong, one that was pink,a little half circle of white on the front with a pink bow. If it had been the first thing he pulled out it also would had been vetoed, but he also didn't want to spend so much time in here that Mrs. Mauro would come in to be ever so helpful. So he partially put them on before widening his stance to press his balls back up into his body before pulling his dick back and putting the panties in place.
Next was a bra, something he struggled with before putting it on backwards before twisting the thing around. Doing his best to stuff the bra he let out an aggravated sigh, wishing he had stood somewhere else in the bedroom where he couldn't see himself in a mirror. The words the older woman had said to him when he went up the stairs ran through his head as he looked at the clothing. "Wear something nice, I promise we will have so much fun today!" He very much doubted there was any truth in her statement, but the woman had been the one that bought the clothes. So he wasn't sure if some of them were considered nice by her standards and some not. Holding up a dress to himself Blake looked in the mirror. His stomach turned, seeing the peach dress with red butterfly design on the sleeveless skater dress. "I bet she would like this, it would match what she is wearing. I think..." It being close enough to matching was a good enough reason to toss it on the bed. It being a dress should have disqualified it alone, but since she said wear something nice he didn't want to be told to come up and put something else on and have to go through this entire thing a second time.
Finally he decided to go with what he thought of as a nice girls white blouse with tight little sleeves that just barely went past his shoulder to touch his arm, he didn't exactly call that sleeves, but girls clothes were weird. The blouse had a tight tiny collar that he tried to tell himself was just like wearing one of his button downs, this one even buttoned up the front. The buttons of course were on the wrong side and instead of a firm crease like on his shirts, or at least his shirts when his mom ironed them, this one had lace all around the buttons as they went down. He paired that with a seven button flared denim skirt. Holding the edges of it after putting it down Blake shook his head. "Everything... everything they got me is too short." The skirt wasn't a miniskirt, but he would never wear a pear of shorts this high either. The last thing he put on before heading downstairs was the same basic rounded toe girl's flats. He had briefly, very briefly looked at the white heels he wore for the little fashion show the other day in order to look "nice" but full on rejected them as a line too far.
When Blake came down the stairs, Heather was waiting in the living room as she prepared their first activity. Seeing what the girl had decided to wear Heather clapped her hands together once, holding them in a prayer position as she simply beamed a happy smile. The difference in the girl's chest was night and day from what she saw this morning. She did not know if there was something that she could do about that little problem, but she had other ways to help the girl feel beautiful. "Look at you! That is a cute outfit Blake, I know someone that would love to see you in it." She said, teasing the girl, happy to see her blush at the idea of the boy she had a crush on looking at her.
"Thank you. What are we going to do first?" he asked, seeing a small table in the living room with a pair of chairs from the kitchen pulled up to it with a white plastic table cloth on it.
"We are first going to pamper ourselves a little, something that is a little meditative and relaxing. Helping the both of us feel a bit better as we get rid of that day to day stress." Heather said with a smile as she turned on some light rock from the 90s on a low volume.
"That sounds great, really that sounds amazing, Mrs. Mauro" Blake said being honest, very much wanting the stress he had built up to go away. He had no idea what she had in mind to do such a thing. If it had been his mom, she would have handed him a controller for a game set to easy so he could just get that cathartic release. That didn't seem likely right now with the table, a folding table he guessed from the way it moved when he sat down and from a group called Savage Garden started to play.
"I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy."
"I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need."
As the music started he learned what they were actually going to be doing as Heather put a nail kit and bottles of nail polish on the table.
"First thing we are going to do is stop that Mrs. Mauro nonsense. I'm not that old." She said, rolling her eyes at herself, knowing full well the truth of her own age and what it meant. "My first name wont work, and I don't like Miss or Mrs Heather. That makes me feel like a Sunday school teacher. Hmmm. OH, I know." The hazel eyed woman said, excitement ringing clear in her voice. You can call me Aunt Heather, or Aunty Heather! Now, Blake, I'm going to do your nails and then you are going to do mine." Heather said with a big smile, adding more after seeing the girl's nervous look. "Don't worry honey, I will show you everything you need to know."
That was how Blake learned how to do manicures. Soak in bowl of warm salt water, then as Mrs. Mauro or Aunt Heather as she told him to call her, you tend to your nails. A process that included shaping, trimming, filing to make everything from the top of his nails to the edges smooth. The buffing of the top of the nails she stressed, saying how it was important to always use a super fine grit and to never use a coarse buffer. Then you push back cuticles after you wife way the cream, this was done with a little wooden pushing stick she had. Then she had him exfoliate... a word he didn't like till he learned what it actually meant. She said how exfoliating the hands wasn't really needed, but it was just one extra step to show love to your hands when giving yourself a mani. Then you moisturize, that left his hands smelling like cherry blossoms and tea rose according to the bottle. The last step, the only step he actually knew existed before he sat down was adding polish. Then just like that his nails had a pinkish red coloring to them, it left him a little confused as to what the color actually was considered. 'Shade of red, or shade of pink?' Either way, he didn't want the color on his nails. That part was a complete bust, but despite his own feelings on the matter, his hands felt clean and smooth and the slick even surface of his nails felt good. On more than one occasion he had run his fingertips across Liz's nails after she got them done enjoying the feeling and now they were on him.
Then it was his turn and considering it was his first time doing this, he thought he did a good job. Not a great job, but it didn't look like a little kid did it either.
"I like them." Heather said, holding up her hand, fingers spread, palm facing her chest. "You did a wonderful job Blake. I'm surprised you and your mom don't do this together."
He thought she would use the nail polish remover the second she could, what he wasn't expecting was her to tell him that he had done a good job. It didn't feel natural to feel pride at doing a decent job giving someone a manicure, but with all those steps it was a good deal of work and he couldn't help smiling, just a little at her remarks. With a small shrug and equally smile on his face he looked away from her, having no clue that he was giving off the impression of a shy girl not used to being complimented. "My Mom gets her nails done at a salon twice a month."
"And you never go with her?" Heather asked in a soft voice, getting more of a picture of what was going on in Blake's life.
Blake shrugged again, he never wanted to go, no reason to go, but as he rubbed the pad of one thumb over the nail on the other, feeling its soft smooth surface he could at least appreciate why girls liked this sort of thing. "She never asked."
"Hmmm." Heather tapped her finger to her chin as she considered having a conversation with Blake's mother when she got back from her trip. He didn't think the woman was being negligent with the girl, with how shy Blake was her mother just might have taken it for a disinterest, but she could see the concentration on Blake's face as she worked on her fingers, her little tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth as she focused. If her mother wasn't going to teach her about being the beautiful girl she was, then she was happy to pick up that torch. "Okay, I'm guessing with how you looked unsteady yesterday in your new heels that you don't really know how to walk in them, is that about right."
"I..." Blake started, before looking back down at his nails, about to say he didn't want to wear heels, and unlike the nails he already knew it was something he didn't enjoy. The problem was, the woman seemed so eager to just do things with him. His father almost always wanted to talk, talk about his day, talk about his feelings, what he thought this and that. He always said he wouldn't try to psychoanalyze him, that he would never try to be his therapist, just his friend, but that wasn't the reality. His mother was around less than his dad and it was always easy to curl up on the couch to watch a show with her or play video games. Blake knew that wasn't something normal that mothers did, and felt lucky for it, but she also didn't go out of her way to ask him to do things with her. It just kind of worked out that they had a shared interest, or so he thought. When he wanted to bulk up and go to the gym, neither of them said they would go with him. It made him feel shallow and more than a little ungrateful for what he had when he thought about his parents like that, but both of them never felt as eager as Heather was to spend time with him and it felt really good. "No, I don't know how. Those are my first heels, Miss Liz said it is an important moment."
"Oh my god! I am so, so sorry. I didn't know."
Feeling a little awkward Blake darted his eyes around, hoping David was lurking about and heard his mother make an exclamation like some valley girl when she was talking to him. "Its, its fine."
"It is a big moment." Heather nodded to herself once. "Okay honey, go upstairs grab the white heels we got you yesterday and in another should be a pair of brown ones, bring them both down here."
"Umm okay." he said, thinking they were going to do that breaking in thing she had talked about the night before and having no idea he was about to get a crash course on how to walk gracefully in heels.
Bringing them down the first thing that happened is she explained how he should be moving, not clomping around, not taking long strides. Then she had him put on the heels, a step he didn't like, didn't want. The third step he thought would be actually walking in them, but it was worse. She went and got a roll of toilet paper, wrapping it around his upper thighs before then wrapping a roll of duct tape over the toilet paper. "This will help you hold your legs in the right position and make small dainty steps. The toilet paper keeps the tape from leaving a mark. I know this might seem barbaric, but my grandmother did this to me and my sister Vicki, but without the toilet paper. Trust me, this little life hack works."
Not wanting anything to do with the life hack and what it was supposed to produce, Blake found himself wishing he hadn't been so enraptured in doing what the older woman wanted not long ago. This activity while not leaving a lasting impression like painted manicured nails, felt so much worse. The word dainty felt accurate with how he had to walk, he tried holding his hands out to the side for balance but she quickly corrected him.
"Elbows to your sides honey. No not like you are at military attention you silly thing. Just your upper arms, you can use from your elbow down, yes like that." Heather didn't need the girl to become a prissy thing like what she knew her grandmother was trying to mold her and her next eldest sister into like they were in a comportment class from a long lost age. She just wanted Blake to feel graceful, wanting her to feel feminine and confident. Even with her large assets at a young age she had plenty of her own confidence issues like every other girl, but she couldn't imagine what Blake felt with her lack of growth and the teasing she knew girls gave her about it.
"Can we take a break?" Blake asked after a while, his feet, ankles and calves killing him.
Heather listened to the teens question, she had asked it without actually stopping. She was walking with one foot in front of the other. Her hips swayed perfectly for her gait. The girl hadn't mastered walking in heels in an afternoon, but it was clear she was ready to handle something taller. "We can do better than that hon, you are moving so gracefully, I'm proud of you."
"You are? All I did was walk around."
"Come over here and sit down hon." Heather said moving over to the couch and patting the cushion next to her.
Moving as he was instructed, Blake moved over to the couch, smoothing out the skirt as he sat down. Just another lesson he had been taught in his lessons for moving like a girl, just what every boy needed to learn. He wasn't sure how sitting over here, back straight and on the edge of the couch was better than taking a break, but he wasn't going to ask either. There was no sense in ruining this woman's mood. He was stuck here one way or the other and at this point a little personal humiliation wasn't so bad when there wasn't really any else around. Blake had heard the kitchen door to the garage open a few times as they were doing their nails and heel practice? Walking practice? Moving like a girl practice? The sound always made him look to the kitchen, but at most he ever saw David come in, get some water and then head back out, looking dirtier and dirtier with every visit. It made him wonder what the boy was doing outside, digging a hole?
"You my dear are something special in you." Heather said, tapping the girl in the center of her chest.
"Thanks, I... know." Blake said hesitantly, becoming a little uncomfortable with how close the pretty woman was sitting to him. His mind came up with all sorts of wonderful situations as she bent down at the waist and reached down to the edge of his skirt. The possibilities his mind came up with filled his mind, but the sudden fear she was about to find out his secret left him paralyzed. Her unraveling the tape and toilet paper bondage should have been obvious, but it had started to just feel like one other torturous thing girls wore. The bra straps dug into his shoulders as he moved both yesterday and today. The pantyhose yesterday had felt great on his skin, but after a while the top of them started to feel like a rubber band digging in.
Putting the mess to the side Heather looked into the girl's soft brown eyes. "You say that, but I'm sitting here telling you." Heather then tapped the teen girl in the same place. "You, are, special, Blake Downings."
"Thanks... but." Blake tried to keep the smile on his face. "You know I'm not though? Right?" It was nice that she was saying so. The type of thing he did to David yesterday to be nice and help the kid think better of himself. The boy wasn't exactly handsome, but he could see him growing more into himself and if he was confident the girls would be all over him. Goofy smile or not the teen did have at least a little game, he could admit to that.
"You are not listening." Heather took one of the girl's hands between both of her own. "Blake Downings, you are special and you need to know that."
"..." Blake opened his mouth to talk, but found he had no reply for a few seconds. The silence between them seemed to drag on. She just wasn't understanding that he was appreciative, it felt nice to be told that and she seemed earnest. "I'm not though... I'm short and won't ever be as tall as my Mom or Dad. I can hardly lift anything, I'm so weak." He said thinking about the insults and teasing he had grown up with. How his pediatrician was skeptical he would ever make it to the average height for a male. "I'm not driven like my Mom, I don't have don't have my Dad's empathy and I'm not nearly as smart as either of them. I get bad grades even when I study and because of that I... I just don't try like I know I should and I'm not even as creative as Liz. She was sitting here giving him a compliment and the only thing he could think of was all his insecurities, things that he didn't even think of most of the time. They all came bubbling up with tears in his eyes.
"Come here." Heather scooted closer on the couch, wrapping her arms around the girl, running her fingers through her hair. "Shhh, shhhh, shhh. It's okay Blake. None of that matters, not one bit of it."
"How." He asked as shame filled him because of the crying. His father always told him crying wasn't a sign of weakness, it was a show of strength, but he didn't feel strong.
Pulling back from the girl Heather held onto her shoulders. "Because none of those people are you. You don't have to be anyone else but yourself. You are just Blake Downings and that is all it takes for you to be special."
Fighting back another wave of tears Blake swallowed, forcing himself to nod. "You're a good Mom, Aunt Heather."
Pulling the teen back into her arms Heather hissed the top of her head as she held her close, rubbing the girls back. "Thanks... I try." Those few words, you're a good mom felt like validation to her. She knew every parent had their struggles, her being back in town because of her eldest was an example of that and she tried to instill lessons into both of her children, hearing that she was a good mother felt good. "For the record, I think you make a great daughter."
Pulling back a little Blake gave the blonde a lopsided grin, trying to not take that as a hit to his ego and as the compliment it was intended to be. "There is no record. But don't tell anyone else, I have a reputation."
When the touching moment was over, Blake felt all sorts of out of balance emotionally; he didn't even so much as mentally complain when they left the house to go on a special trip for a reward. He knew that her special reward wouldn't be like the one Liz would give him, but he hoped that maybe in his dreams it would be there. When the reward was actually given, he did start to wish he had not just mentally complained but verbally protested. He had been so much in his head that he didn't really know what was going on. Sure he knew they were back at the mall and that they went to a kiosk. He saw a display of cheap rings, earrings, some bracelets and necklaces. Nothing here was expensive at all and figured she was going to get him some heart necklace or something to show she cared and he was already mentally preparing himself for it. A simple trinket that yesterday would have meant nothing and after less than a day with this woman he would at least keep it as a symbol, symbol of what he wasn't sure. All of that came to a crashing end when he felt a painful pinch to his left ear.
Blake's hand flew up to touch his ear, his mind only now processing that the girl running the kiosk who looked no older than David had actually swabbed each of his ears with an alcohol wipe. Then the same feeling happened on his right ear and he was now the proud owner of a pair of faux pearl stud earrings. "I have my ears pierced" he said blinking at himself in the mirror that was held up. There in each of his ears was a white pearl, that he couldn't tell the difference between real and fake, but he was sure someone could consider the massive price differences between faux pearls and real.
"You do, every girl should have pretty earrings by your age. Now how about we enjoy some tea over at the tea room."
Touching one earlobe and then the other Blake felt a bit numb internally. Yesterday he was sure it would have pushed him over the edge once more, but today he just felt... he felt a lot and much more of it was positive than the day before and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. "Could we get food instead?" Holding a hand over his stomach the idea of just drinking tea sounded crazy, he only had a single thing of yogurt for breakfast, that wasn't enough food.
Touching her hand to her mouth Heather laughed. "Blake honey, they have food at the tea room, I think you will enjoy it."
That statement felt pretty false to Blake but figured he could always try and convince her to get a burger after. Telling her how he was still hungry and how he wanted to try some red meat without anyone else around to judge. He thought a tactic like that would work on her. What Blake wasn't prepared for was how much he enjoyed the sandwiches that came with the tea. White bread with crust having been cut off, cream cheese, rosemary, cucumbers, lettuce and turkey. They were full of flavor in a way Blake never expected a sandwich to be. "Okay..." Blake said putting down the delicious sandwich he had just taken a bite of, his second sandwich. "That is black magic." He said pointing at the prepared food.
Letting out a laugh at the joke, Heather felt really happy. The girl with her was cute, she smiled often, even if she didn't say anything, but it didn't always feel like there was anything behind the smile. Like she didn't actually believe she was happy, or worse she didn't believe she deserved to be happy. Spending one morning and afternoon alone with the girl she had seen her come more out of her shell, to the point that she could even see the smile in Blake's eyes when taking a bite of their late lunch. "I have really enjoyed today with you Blake." Heather said, meaning every word of it.
"I... honestly I didn't think I would, but I am." The idea of spending time with the woman had not been exciting for Blake. He had felt abandoned by Liz and now even though everything was super girly, it had been worth it, or almost worth it, he mentally corrected not wanting to go that far.
"Oh I get that, I would never have wanted to spend some with a forty something year old stranger at your age, I hardly want to do that to some of my own friends. Today has been fun though and if you're ready, I got one more thing we can do together."
"Sure, anything you want." he said, instantly regretting the open statement.
"I thought it would be fun for us to pickout a new outfit for you to wear tonight on your date!"