Child's Play
By Kelly Davidson
Part Three
Subscribers can read Part One and Part Two
Chapter VI
Mrs. Smith opened up the box and started pulling from it, to my
horror, more dolls. Only these were not just dolls, they were Barbie dolls
that she had gotten for Lisa, who refused to play with them. "This is going
to be fun." she squealed. "I've been dying to play dolls with one of my
girls for a long time. We can dress them up and pretend to go shopping and
all kinds of things. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
I looked into her happy face and realizes there was no way I could say
"No" to her. So we sat on the bed and dressed the dolls up like they were
going to a party. Then I drove them around the room in a Barbie car and
when they got to the party we sat them in chairs and pretended like they
were talking about the dresses and makeup and other things girls talk
about. We even had them dance with a Ken doll.
This was the first and only time I enjoyed playing with a doll. I
mean, I really had a good time and ended up getting into the game. This
couldn't have happened if it hadn't been for Mrs. Smith, who seemed to really
be enjoying herself. During that hour we bonded just like a mother and
daughter do under similar circumstances. It was an extremely special
experience in which I felt completely like her little girl. I was thinking,
experiencing and enjoying my new role as her daughter.
After playing for a while Mrs. Smith said, "You must be uncomfortable
in that dress Susan. Let's get you out of that dress and see how you look
in some of your sister's other outfits. I agreed and we walked back into
Lisa's room.
The rest of the outfits were uneventful compared to the first dress I
wore except that I did look good in most of them. In fact, I could have gone
outside wearing any of them and everyone would have taken me for a girl.
First I tried on a short pink dress with puffed sleeves. Mrs. Smith
had me take off the petticoat and gave me one of Lisa's pink slips to wear.
Next I tried on a blue flower dress which we both thought made me looked
beautiful. Mrs. Smith told me Lisa didn't like the dress and wouldn't even
try it on.
There were a couple of skirt/blouse outfits that I tried on as well
but I didn't look as good in them as I did in the dresses. Finally I tried
on the red dress with the white ribbons which I (and Mrs. Smith) liked so
much. It was meant for me. Mrs. Smith thought I looked so good wearing it
that she took a few more pictures of me.
Up to this point it had been a pretty good day but there was one thing
I was a little disappointed about. Mrs. Smith was a sharp dresser and I
always admired the pretty dresses or sharp skirt and blouse outfits she
wore. Today however, she had put on a pair of black pants and a white
blouse, I guess in her haste to get back to me. I was a little
disappointed she hadn't taken time to put on a dress or skirt and finally,
I gather up the courage to say something about it
"Mommy, wouldn't you like to wear something different so we can both
be dressed up?"
Mrs. Smith looked at me with her big blues eyes. "Why baby-doll,
would you like me to wear something different then what I have on? Why
didn't you tell me before? I guess I could if you want."
She disappeared into her bedroom and a few minutes later re-appeared
wearing the same blouse but with a flowered skirt that came down to her
knees. "How's this?", she asked as she twirled around. "Does it meet with
your approval?" I had another outfit in mind (her wedding dress) but
didn't want to push my luck and nodded an approval. She was the prettiest
woman in the world, no matter what she wore.
"Your clothes are so pretty." I told her. "I wish I could wear them."
Mrs. Smith giggle then said, "Why that can be arranged. I guess you
have time to play "dress up" if you like." Before I had a chance to answer
she grab my hand and pulled me into the bedroom.
"Lets see, what would you like to wear? Would you like to pick
something out or do you want me to do it?" I told her to pick something
out and she started shifting through her closet.
"Here are some things." as she pulled out several dresses and laid
them on the bed. "You can pick out what you like. Now, let me get some
other items for you." She walked over to her dresser and pulled out a blue
slip, white bra and pair of dark pantyhose. She smile and laid them on the
bed in front of me.
"Here you go baby-doll. Now, you can put these on over your dress or
I can leave and you can change into them. What would you like me to do?"
I decide to changed into her clothes but told Mrs. Smith it was alright for
her to stay if she turned around.
My hands were shaking with anticipation as I picked up the bra.
Knowing that Mrs. Smith had worn this same bra under her clothes made it
much more exciting then just trying on one of my mother's. It felt so soft
and smooth against my skin as I placed it over my chest. I grabbed some
socks and stuffed them into it to give me a figure more like Mrs. Smith's.
Next I picked up her slip which was very lacy and felt so silky in my
hands. As I slid it down my body I felt a cold chill and shivered with
excitement. The slip was big on me of course and while it didn't come
close to Mrs. Smith's knees when she wore it, it ended up going all the way
down to my feet. Putting the pantyhose on was also a new experience but I
somehow managed to do it without getting a run in them.
From the pile I selected a blue and white flowered dress with a broad
white collar and belt around the waist. I didn't even bother unzipping it
as I was able to pull it right over my head. Mrs. Smith looked so stylish
in this outfit and I dreamed it would have the same effect on me. I told
her I was ready and she could turn around.
"Oh Susan!", Mrs. Smith said with a giggle. "You look so cute in my
dress." She held one hand to her mouth and giggled again. "Take a look at
yourself honey in the mirror."
I would "love to say" I looked as pretty and as snappy as Mrs. Smith
did in the outfit. The truth is, I looked more like a clown or better yet,
a little girl playing dressup in her mothers clothes then the young lady I
hoped I would see. But I didn't care, I was wearing the clothes of the
women I was in love with. Everything was perfect.
Everything that is except for the outfit I wanted her to wear. Time
was growing short and I became more determined to see her in it. But,
instead of asking her directly to try it on I came up with a plan.
Pointing to her wedding picture on the dresser I asked, "Is that you in
that picture Mommy?"
"Yes it is baby."
"That dress looks so beautiful and you look so pretty in it. To bad
you don't still have it so I could see it" I think she got the hint.
"Why thank you very much honey." Then she smiled real big and said,
"Actually, I have it here in the closet. Would you like to see it?" I
nodded yes and she pulled out a large white box from the top of the closet.
Carefully she opened it up and pulled from it a long, white wedding dress.
The pictures didn't do it justice.
"Hold it up to you Mommy."
She did and I began to picture her wearing it. Now all I had to do
was figure out what to say that would make her want to try it on. Just as
I was getting ready to say something she spoke.
"You don't have to ask sugar, I know what you have in mind."
"You do?" I said a little surprised.
"Yes, I do." she grinned. "I can take a hint. And it's fine with me
baby, you can try it on."
"Um, well um, what about you?" This was not what I had in mind
although the idea didn't bother me.
"Oh, well if you want me help I don't mind baby as long as you don't
care about standing in front of me in your slip." Her smile got real big.
"You will have to take off the dress you have on before you can get into my
wedding gown you know."
I didn't argue with her, I was thrilled with idea of trying the dress
on. I stepped out of the outfit I was wearing and before I even had a
chance to think about what was going on Mrs. Smith slid the wedding dress
over my head. All of the sudden I became lost in a sea of white silk.
"Put your arms in the sleeve baby." Mrs. Smith said. I found them and
positioned my hands. "Good, here we go." All of the sudden my head popped
out and I could see again. Mrs. Smith grabbed my hair and drop it over the
back of the dress.
"Not bad sugar, not bad. Let's try the veil." She pulled the veil out
of another box and positioned it on my head. "One more thing, let's put some
red lipstick on to highlight your lips". She applied it with care and
stood back to look at me
"Oh my oh my." she said with a giggle in her voice. "My little baby's
a bride! And so cute too. Try walking down the hallway Susan to the
rhythm of this song. Dum, dum dumdum, dum, dum, dumdum." It was the wedding march, of course.
The dress was too big and heavy for me to walk in with most of it
laying on the floor so I scooped the skirt up with both hands. Even then a
good portion of the dress still dragged on the floor making it difficult to
walk in. Mrs. Smith just smiled and said, "I guess you need a few more
years to grow into it."
She checked her watch and said. "It's getting late but I have one
more outfit I want you to try on before you take your bath. She walked
over to the makeup table and from a drawer pulled out one of her silky
white nightgowns with a matching lacy robe.
Mrs. Smith stared at me for a moment and her voice got serious. "With
every wedding there is a wedding night Susan. It's a special time which
you always remember. Here, take this." she said as she handed me the nightgown.
"This is my favorite nightie sugar. It was the first one I wore after I
was married. It's very special to me and now I want you to put it on. Are
you okay with that?" I shook my head, not fully understanding what she was
trying to tell me.
Mrs. Smith unzipped the gown and I stepped out of it. Then she turned
around and I took off the slip and pantyhose and put the nightgown and robe
on. After I was done she turned back and a new look appeared in her eyes.
It was a strange look, one that took me back a little.
"I have a surprise that I'm going to give you." she said. "I know you
are going to like it."
You mean? No, not sex. She was, after all, old enough to be my mother
although that wouldn't have mattered, if I knew what sex was. Remember,
back in my days I would have been too young to be taught about stuff like
that.
She was referring to another form of pleasure although sometimes I do
wonder if she had thoughts of something more. Her actions towards me later
on indicated to me that she felt guilty about something. Was it because
she had enjoyed dressing me up as a little girl or something else? I will
never know.
Mrs. Smith led me over to her bed and pulled back the sheets. "Lay
down baby." I did as I was told and then she pulled the sheets back over
me.
"Okay baby, don't be embarrassed, I understand what you need to do" I
had no idea what she was talking about but sensed this was not a good time
to ask so I just nodded. She handed me another one of her silky
nightgowns.
"Once you are done just place the panties, bra and nightie in the
hamper and put my other robe on. Then go to the bathroom and take a bath."
She pulled down the shade and turned off the lights.
Mrs. Smith turned towards me one more time. "Sweet dreams Susan...
and enjoy yourself." She closed the door and left me alone in the dark.
Remember I hadn't reached puberty so that aspect in my life hadn't
come into play yet. I did however lay in her bed and caressed myself with
her nightgown. The nightgown I was wearing was big on me and every time I
moved or caress it with the other nightgown strange, new sensations and
waves of excitement drove through my body. Who knows what could have
happen if I had more time alone, although I kind of doubt it. I will add
that this is the reason why I enjoy wearing nightgowns that feel big on me.
It takes me back to that day.
After about half an hour Mrs. Smith knocked on the door and told me it
was time I took a bath. I got out of the bed and changed into a robe she
had worn earlier. It was soft and smelled so good, just like her. I
walked into the bathroom where Mrs. Smith had the water ready for me and
spent the next 20 minutes in the tub washing off the perfume and makeup.
My clothes were sitting on the toilet so I dried myself off with a towel
and got into them. How different they felt on me now.
Mrs. Smith was sitting in her rocker sewing her on quilt as I walked
in the living room. There was a strange, almost awkward presence in the
room. She smiled at me and said, "Hi Jeff. I see your mother is home so I
guess you can go now." She returned back to her sewing.
I open the door and said to her, "I won't forget what you did Mrs.
Smith. I had fun."
"I know won't forget Jeff. Neither will I." There was sadness in the
way she said it which I never understood until 25 years later. Things
would never be the same between us again.
I closed the front door behind me and headed home. Little did I
realize that this would be the last time I would talk to Mrs. Smith in
private. The next day I found out Mr. Smith had gotten a new job and they
were moving out of state. My heart broke, I needed her more then ever now.
Three weeks later the Smith's moved and it was the last time I would
see and talk to Mrs. Smith again. How strange that the people you care
about seem to leave your life when you need them the most. At least in my
life it always seem to be that way. I knew there would never be another
replacement in my life for Mrs. Smith. Only others.
Epilog -- 25 years later.
My mother kept in touch with Mrs. Smith but not too closely. It
usually amounted to a Christmas card each year with a letter telling us how
everyone was doing. I wrote Lisa a few times and even planned on visiting
her but it never worked out. After a year we both developed other interests
and our friendship faded.
I always asked Lisa about her mom but never wrote to her directly. I
guess I could have called Mrs. Smith when I had gotten older and left home
but for what purpose? Too much time had passed and I didn't know how she
would react to getting a phone call from me out of the blue. It wasn't
the right thing to do so I didn't call.
Mrs. Smith did have another daughter who she named Cindy, not Susanna.
I don't know why she didn't call her Susanna, perhaps it was out of guilt
for that day we spent together and she didn't want to be reminded of it. I
still would rather believe it was because of the special bond we had and
she still thought of me as her daughter. Naming the new baby Susanna would
have replaced her memory of me.
I never met Cindy and have very little information on what she was
like growing up. I hope she was the daughter Mrs. Smith wanted. Lisa on
the other hand got married and had two daughters of her own. She is almost
as pretty as her mother but doesn't have the taste and style in clothing
that her mom had. Still, it's hard not to see Lisa's mother in her
every time I visit.
Of course every time I see the TV show "Home Improvement" I am reminded
of her. The actor playing Jill Taylor looks, acts and talks so much like
the Mrs. Smith I knew. I watch it all the time, not only because I like
the show but to remind me of her
Then one day, I got a call.
It was 7:30 in the morning and I was just
getting ready to leave when the phone rang. It was my mother and she had
some bad news: Mrs. Smith was dead. I stood there in shock, unwilling to
believe that someone so sweet and who I loved so much could be gone. The
accident had happened a month ago and my mother had just recieved a letter from
Lisa telling her the bad news.
I called into work and told them I couldn't come in. As soon as I
hung up the phone I started crying uncontrollably. I hadn't seen Mrs.
Smith since she left 25 years ago and yet the loss I felt was just as
painful as when my father died. Afterwards I calmed down enough that I got
into my car and drove to where Lisa lived. When I got there Lisa filled me
in on the details.
Mrs. Smith had been driving home from church when a drunk driver
crossed the centerline on a curve and hit her head-on. They rushed her to
the hospital where she died two hours later. The drunk driver had just
gotten out of jail two weeks earlier after serving time for killing two
other innocent people in another drunk driving accident. Worse, he had
been arrested five more times for the same offense and was driving with a
suspended license. As he told the cop when they arrested him, he just
didn't care about the other people he killed.
After the accident he got out of the car (almost completely
un-injured) and ran away. One of the witnesses followed him to a nearby
bar and called the police. When they arrived 10 minutes later the drunk
driver claimed he had been at the bar for the past four hours and someone
must had stolen his car. He couldn't, however, explain the cuts and
bruises he had on his body.
The court would charge him only with vehicle manslaughter since there was no
way to prove how drunk he was at the time the accident occurred.
Lisa is still bitter about the accident and the drunk driver today.
We talked a little bit more and then Lisa did a funny thing. She
asked if I could look at some pictures and tell her if I knew who this
person was. I looked and was shocked. There was a picture of a blonde
hair girl in a pink dress with white lace and bows holding a doll with a
big smile on her face. She looked so happy.
"After my mother died I started going through some of her things and
ran across these photos. The dresses she is wearing are mine but I have no
idea who the girl is. I know it's not me and the pictures were taken at
our old house so there is no way it can be Cindy. All it says on the back
is Susanna Marie. This girl must have been important to my mom, she kept
these pictures with her other important items that she used to look at all
the time. Do you know her?"
I shook my head and looked at the other pictures. This was the first
time I had seen them and knowing Mrs. Smith had kept them close to her made
me feel peaceful. She hadn't forgotten about me.
I also kept staring at the happy face in the picture. It was taken only
two years before my parents found out I was a crossdresser and turned my
teenage years into a living hell. Yet for that one day I was allowed to be
who I wanted to be, and more important, accepted for it.
After my visit I picked up some flowers and drove to the cemetery. As
stood over Mrs. Smith's grave in a pouring rain I told her "Thank you". I
had failed to say that when I left that day and had always regretted it.
"I love you Mrs. Smith. Thank you for being there when I needed you.
Thank you for accepting...." I broke out in tears, it was too painful. "I
wish..", I started chocking and crying and couldn't go on.
Then I smelled something I hadn't smelled in years. It was Mrs. Smith
perfume, and even in the pouring rain the smell was strong. I knew she was
there and as crazy as it sounds, I felt her peace and love around me as if
she was trying to comfort me. After a minute the smell disappeared. I
laid the flowers on her grave and walked away. I too was at peace with
what had happen.
She would always be a true love, despite the age difference and the
fact that we had never gone to bed together. But then, that is what true
love is all about. To think I had found out about such an important lesson
so long ago and it had started out as child's play.
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