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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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