The Innocent

[Sandra B]

Chapter 8.  Imelda

Paul was looking forward to his next appointment with Emilia.  It was just as well her parents usually took Nathan out for a treat on Friday evenings.  This week they were taking him to the cinema to see the latest Wonder Woman movie.  Paul had been invited to join them.  He would have liked to go very much.  But he had made an excuse.  He wasn’t sure in his own mind why he had done that.  Perhaps he wanted to keep Emilia sweet, so she wouldn’t say anything about his little mistake.  But then, she had made it clear she had no objection to him going with her brother if he wanted to.  Something inside him had chosen an evening with her, above an evening at the cinema with his best friend.  As he made his way to her house he frowned in puzzlement, fingering the smooth silkiness of his new panties through the pocket of his jeans.

Emilia opened the door cautiously, looking up and down the street before she let him in.  It felt exciting, like a secret conspiracy.  Which it was.  Emilia was still in her school uniform.
“Sorry.  Haven’t had time to change.  I’ve been too busy going through my stuff to see what I had that might fit you.  Come upstairs and I’ll show you.”
As they climbed the stairs, she added, “and I’ve bought you a couple of things.  See what you think.”
She’d certainly been busy.  There were little piles of clothes on every surface, and outfits laid out on her bed.  Paul looked around with surprise.  He hadn’t expected such enthusiasm.  But it was contagious.
“Gosh, Em, I’ve never seen so much stuff!  Is that all for me to try?”  He began to have butterflies in his tummy.
“It is.  Look, why don’t you try this to start.  It only cost me a couple of pounds.”  She indicated a little top and shorts set, the crop top glittery with some banal legend, the shorts made of yellow towelling.  “I guess it’s a bit juvenile, but you might want to wear it in the summer.”
Did she think he was going eventually to adopt girls’ clothing altogether?  He looked at her, a little startled.  But it was exciting how she seemed to be really into this game, especially as he felt he could indulge his mild interest without risk of anyone knowing.  He was becoming less self-conscious now, and without further hesitation he stripped down to his panties – pink ones today – and pulled on the shorts and top.  The wardrobe door was already open, and he stared at himself in the mirror.  It was disconcerting how natural the clothes looked on him.  He looked almost like a short-haired little girl.  Why did that give him a faint thrill?
“You even look good in something as simple as that,” said Emilia, with enthusiasm.  “How does it feel?”
“Not bad.  Quite nice, in fact.  Sort of relaxing.”
“That’s an interesting word, Paul.  It’s the opposite of “exciting”.  Does the feeling depend on the clothes?”
Paul felt he had now lost all his self-consciouness with Em.  “I guess it does.  Casual clothes make me feel comfortable, sort of free.  The girlier ones are more exciting, somehow.  It’s funny.”
“OK.  Would you like to try something “girlier”, as you call it, right now?”  She looked at her watch, and then glanced out of the window.  “I bet you’ll find this exciting!”
She went to her chest and produced a carrier bag.
“Take off those things and let’s try this.”
She tossed something red and shiny onto the bed.  Paul took off the shorts and top and picked it up.  A little dress, very smooth and stretchy.  With Emilia’s help he wriggled into it.  It had a halter top and was so short it barely hid his panties.  Next out of the bag was a pair of red hold-ups.  He sat on the edge of her bed while she rolled them up his legs.
“And I found these in the charity shop,” she said, producing a pair of red patent leather tap shoes.  “They won’t look bad with this outfit.  I don’t think you’re ready for heels yet.”
“No, I don’t even like the look of heels, much.”
“How do they feel?”
“They fit me fine.  Thanks, Em.”
“Do you mind if I make you up a little bit?”
“Not at all.”
Emilia sat Paul in a chair.  She sat on the edge of the bed and applied a little mascara, a little rouge, and some bright red lip gloss.  Paul liked the feeling of having his face made up.  It made him feel special.  And it was nice to have Emilia really close to him, and to feel her touching his face.  It felt intimate and perhaps a little titillating.  She found him a pair of clip-ons with little red roses on them.  He liked the feeling of them nipping his ears.
“We need to get your ears pierced.  Do you think your mum would allow it?”
“She may do.  I’d rather you asked her, though.  She’s happy we’ve become friends.”
“OK” she said, combing his hair, “It can’t do any harm to ask.”
Emilia finished off with a couple of squirts of perfume.
“There!  All done.  Go see what you think.”
The makeup had done the trick.  Paul experienced a thrill of excitement as he ogled himself in the mirror.  He had transcended the boundary between looking like a boy dressed up as a girl and looking like a somewhat tomboyish girl.  And if his hair had been longer, and styled
.
“Wow, Em.  I look great!”  He couldn’t help the sudden access of vanity.
Em didn’t reply at once.  She was taken aback at the transformation she had achieved, with so little effort.  Paul really did look gorgeous.  In the dress his figure seemed to have taken on the shape of a girl’s.  And she saw quite clearly that the soft lines of his features were even more feminine than her own.
“Can I keep this on for a bit?”
“All the evening if you want.  The other stuff can wait for another time.”
“I don’t look silly?”
“You look amazing.  In fact, I’d like to take you out and show you off.  I can tell you, Paul, you’d get lots of attention.  From the boys and the girls.”
Paul blushed through his rouge, and stole another look at himself.  He twisted himself round so he could see his butt, for all the world just like any girl.  But Emilia was looking at her watch again.  She had an agreement, though now she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.  But it was too late to back out.
“Paul, I’m thirsty.  Would you mind going down to the kitchen and getting me a can from the fridge?  Get one for yourself, too.”
“Sure, Em.”
As he left the room, she grabbed her phone and quickly sent a text.  Perhaps just a single letter.  Then she went to the door of her room to await developments.

Paul went into the kitchen, which was just to the right of the front door.  It adjoined the living-room.  They were connected by an arch.  He was just in the act of taking out the cans when he heard a girl’s voice in the hall.  “Em?  You in?”  He froze.  Someone else was in the house.  He tossed the cans back into the fridge and leapt into the living-room.  He crouched behind an armchair, hardly daring to breathe.  He heard footsteps coming into the kitchen.  Then Emilia running down the stairs.
“Mel?  I’m here.  How did you get in?”
“The door was on the latch.  I pushed it open.”
“Oh. Mum can’t have closed it properly.”
No, thought Paul. You were the last one to close it.  Maybe you didn’t notice.
“Shall we go upstairs,” suggested Emilia.
“Just wait a minute.  Do you have a cat?  I saw something disappearing in here
..”
She marched into the living-room.  Paul held his breath and shut his eyes tight.  But it was no good.
“What do we have here?”
He opened his eyes and looked up.  Imelda was standing over him with a smile on her face.
“Come out, little girl.  Who are you?”
Paul clambered to his feet.  He kept his head down.
“This is
 a little friend of mine, Mel.  Her name’s
”
The girls were playing their parts well.  Paul had no idea he was being set up.
“I know her name.  This is Paul.  I remember him from last time I was here.  But I don’t remember him being so beautiful!”
She took a step back to admire him.  Paul pulled down the hem of his dress coyly.
“My goodness, Em, he’s stunning!  What a little darling!”  She stepped forward again and took him by the chin, raising his head so that he was looking into her eyes.  Paul blinked in embarrassment, his mascaraed eyelashes fluttering nervously.  He didn’t know what to do with his hands.  He clasped them in front of himself.  His ears visibly turned red as Imelda stood gazing into his face.  She could see the poor thing was uncomfortable, and she decided she rather liked him that way.
“Do I see a little pair of pink panties under that dress, Paul?  I do, don’t I?  And your stockings!  You’re a very lucky girl to have such pretty clothes.  And what’s that perfume you’re wearing?”
“It’s ‘Morning Rose’,” said Emilia.
“’Morning Rose’.  Very appropriate.  You’re like a little rose yourself, darling, with your pink cheeks and your ears like little soft petals.”  She let go of his chin and held him by his left ear.
“Does he have other outfits as pretty as this?” she asked Emilia.
“None quite as pretty.  Not yet, anyway.  But maybe you’d like to have a look?”
“I’d love to, but first I must have a few snaps for my album.  Can we go into the garden?”
“Sure.  The flowers are just coming out.  It’ll be perfect.”
The girls took one hand each, and led him outside.  He wanted to protest, but he knew it would be pointless.  Better just to go along with things at the moment.  The sudden and unexpected exposure to a virtual stranger had completely unnerved him.  Imelda stood him in from of a little mound covered with bluebells and snowdrops.  She was going to ask him to pose, but she realised it was much more effective just to let him stand there, squirming with obvious discomfort, blushing and shifting from one leg to another, pulling at the hem of his dress in a fruitless attempt to hide his panties, and generally exhibiting every symptom of extreme embarrassment.  Surreptitiously she switched her phone to video, to capture every cute little twitch and wriggle.  “My god, he is so sweet,” she whispered to herself.  “Em?  Shall we take him out for ice-cream?  I want to see how people react to him.”
“No!  Please!”  Paul blurted, his eyes widening with fear.
“Come on, Paul,” said Emilia,” it’s only just down the street.  No-one’s going to recognise you.  I’ll tell you what, you can wear a pair of my sunglasses, and I’ve got a red beret that’ll fit you.  OK?”

Paul held tightly onto his hem all the way, nervously looking around for dangers.  In his shiny, tiny red dress and stockings he certainly attracted the stares of the passers-by.  ‘Bella Ices’, the place was called.  They went to the counter to order.  Emilia chose cinnamon and honey, Imelda raspberry ripple.
“And what would you like, young lady?” asked the waitress, with a simpering smile.
“Neapolitan, please,” replied Paul in the best girlie voice he could manage.
“What a pretty little girl,” said the woman, “and such a beautiful dress!”
They made their way to a corner booth.  Paul felt that the whole restaurant was looking at him, and he probably wasn’t far wrong.  Emilia and Imelda sat by the window, leaving Paul to occupy the aisle side of the leather-upholstered bench seat.  Two little girls on the adjacent table stared at him as he sat down.  He felt his dress ride up again as his bottom encountered the slippery surface.   Their eyes widened, and they immediately started whispering to the woman they were with, probably their mother, and she glanced over at him.  He heard the words “girl’s dress”, and “see her knickers”, and his cheeks began to burn once again.  The girls continued to stare, their eyes dancing with glee.  They covered their mouths with their hands, but even without looking straight at them he could see they were laughing, their pony-tails shaking with mirth.  Poor Paul fidgeted uncomfortably and made an attempt to pull down his hem, but it just slid up again at once.  One of the girls was playing with her phone.  He wasn’t sure, but he suspected she was surreptitiously taking a photo to show her friends.  He was embarrassed but annoyed.  He looked straight across at her intending to rebuff her attention, but instead she just grinned at him and mouthed the words “nice panties”!  He was relieved when at last they left, with much giggling and chattering.  He saw them outside studying the phone with obvious delight, and knew his suspicions had been well-founded.
“Em, could I move to the window side,” he asked.
“Don’t be silly, Paul.”  Imelda answered for her.  “There’s nothing to be frightened of.”
“Those two girls
  Didn’t you see them?”
“Oh, they were just jealous,” said Emilia.  “Take no notice.”
They ate their ice-creams slowly.  Emilia and Imelda chatted happily, taking care not to allude to their successful scheme, though they exchanged triumphant looks.  Then a group of four boys came noisily through the door.  Paul recognised them.  Year twos from school!  That one was David something. 
“Em!  I know those guys!  Please let me sit the other side!”
“Don’t panic, Paul.  Just ignore them and you’ll be fine.”
They looked around for a table.  To Paul’s horror, they pointed over at the empty table next door, and began to make their way towards it.  He pretended to be looking out of the window, to hide his face.  They took their seats.  One of the boys looked over – it was the Dave guy - and seeing Imelda and Emilia, gave a little wave.
“Hi!”
“Hi,” said the girls, in chorus.
It was quite daring for a second year to address a third year in this way out of school, but  Dave clearly thought himself high enough on the scale of cool.  Paul could feel him looking him up and down.
“Hi,” he continued, addressing Paul.  “You’re not at Brook Lane, are you?”
Paul, hearing himself addressed directly, froze.  But before he could think how to respond, Imelda took charge of the situation.
“I’m afraid not.  This is my cousin.  She lives in Spain.  She’s staying with me for a few days.  If you were thinking of chatting her up, I should tell you she’ll be ten next month.”
Dave was crushed, much to the amusement of his friends.  “I-I’m sorry
 No.  The lipstick
.”  He quickly returned his attention to his ice-cream.
“Go on, Dave,” one of his friends said, “next month she’ll be ten.  What you waiting for, mate?”
“Shut up!” said Dave, amidst laughter.

It was time to leave.  They got back to the house without further incident.  Imelda wanted Paul to try on a few more costumes, but Emilia decided he had had enough excitement for one evening.
“OK, I understand,” said Imelda.  “I can wait.  There’s some nice things here, but now I’ve seen him I’ve got some ideas myself, too.  Listen, would you two like to come for a sleepover at my house next Saturday?  My parents are going to a matinĂ©e and then out to dinner, and they won’t be back till about ten.  So we could have all the afternoon and evening, plus you wouldn’t have to worry about getting home.  There’s plenty of room.”
“Yeah, Paul, Mel’s got a big bedroom with a double and a single bed, so you’d be all right.  I’m in, Mel.  Paul, do you want me to have a word with your mum?”
“I suppose so.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
“It’s not that.  Can we stay indoors this time?”
“We’ll see,” said Imelda, as if pondering the question.  “But you’ll have to come out sometime, you know.”
Paul looked at her, a little alarmed.
“Come out?”
“Don’t worry.  We’re going to keep you to ourselves for the time being.”
“Yes,” added Emilia.  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to having two mistresses now!”

[Sandra B]

Chapter 9.  Shock and Awe

Over the weekend Paul pondered his predicament.  Emilia had been wrong.  He didn’t have two mistresses.  He had five!  And the other three would be waiting eagerly for his second ballet lesson on Monday.  He had considered telling her about the others, but had decided against it.  The possibility of collusion frightened him.  He would try to keep the two factions apart for the time being, and see how things developed.  Maybe the younger girls would lose interest, and he could quietly drop the ballet lessons.  At present there was no apparent reason for either to find out about the other, was there?

But even as he wondered, Fate was making its first intervention of the week.  On Sunday afternoon, when Paul was out playing football with his friends, Emilia had decided to ring Paul’s mother about the sleepover and the ear piercing.
“Hello?  Mrs Adams?  Hi.  It’s Emilia, Nathan’s sister.  I’m ringing to ask you a couple of things.  Do you have a minute?”
“Of course, dear.  What is it?”
“It’s about Paul.  Next Saturday I’m going to go to my friend Imelda’s house in the afternoon, and staying for a sleepover.  She’s asked if Paul could come too.  We all played together on Friday and she liked him a lot.”
“Really?  That’s such a kind thought.  Of course.  It would be lovely for him to spend more time with you, and with your friend, of course.  I might take you up on your offer of babysitting Sam, too, at some point.  How’s your mum, by the way.  I haven’t seen her for a while.  I’ve been rather busy, you know, what with Sam and what with my meetings.”
“Oh, she's fine, thank you.  She’s been quite busy, too.  I’ll give her your love.”
“Do, Emilia.  Was that all you wanted to ask?”
“Well, no.  There is one other thing.  Paul was saying how he’d like to get his ears pierced at some point, in case he ever wanted to wear an earring.  I know he’s very young, but
well, it’s quite fashionable now.  What do you think?”
There was a silence.  For a moment Emilia thought Mrs Adams was going to be outraged at the suggestion.
“Emilia, can I ask you something?  This may seem rather strange, but do you think Paul has it in mind to wear
ladies’ earrings?”
“Oh!  I don’t know.  Why do you ask?”
“If I tell you something, can I count on you to keep it absolutely secret?  You musn’t breathe a word to anyone.  Paul would be furious if he even knew I were telling you.”
“Of course.  I swear I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“The other day I was looking for his lunchbox, and I had occasion to look into his school bag.”  She paused.  “Hidden away at the bottom I found four pairs of girls’ panties, three in pastel colours,  and one pair of yellow satin ones with little red bows!  Of course, I put them back at once, and didn’t say a word about it.”
“Goodness!”  was all Emilia could think to say.  And she felt herself flush with embarrassment.  Suppose Paul’s mother discovered all four pairs came from her!
“Yes.  And not only that.  He started ballet lessons last Monday.  And he’s been seeing a girl called Rosalind.  Do you think
do you think he’s exploring, I don’t know, the idea of being feminine?”
“Ballet lessons?  I didn’t know about that.  I mean, I didn’t know about any of this,” she added quickly.
“Oh yes.  He asked me to buy him a leotard and the whole kit and caboodle.  It’s all being delivered tomorrow.  What do you think, Emilia?  Have you noticed anything?”
“Well, perhaps I have, Mrs Adams.  But how do you feel about it?”
“Oh, I’m quite happy for him to do whatever he feels he needs to.  I must say, it’s nice he’s mixing with girls much more, instead of those boys he was hanging around with.  And as to wearing girls’ clothes, I’m very liberal about it, and even the schools now allow the children to wear clothes of either gender.  To be honest, I’d be quite happy if he decided to identify as a girl.  It’s silly, I know, but I’d really enjoy taking him shopping and buying him nice things to wear!”
Emilia felt a surge of relief.
“Well, now you’ve mentioned it, I did notice he was taking an interest in my dresses and things, last time he was over.  I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep an eye on him and report back, shall I?”
“Oh, that would be so helpful.  I don’t want him to know that I know about the panties, but on the other hand I don’t want him to feel constrained by the thought I may disapprove, if you see what I mean.”
“Quite.  Leave it with me.  I’ll see if I can get him to open up about it.”
“Thank you, Emilia.  That’s such a relief.  And not a word to anyone, remember.  Yes, by all means take him to get his ears pierced.  Let me know what it costs and I’ll reimburse you.
“OK, Mrs Adams.  Don’t worry.  I’ll look after him!”
I’ll look after him all right, she thought as she put down the phone.  Ballet?  Why didn’t he say anything to me?  Devious little scamp.  Rosalind.  Wait a minute, I think that’s one of the girls who’s friendly with Tabitha.  Tabitha’s a mischievous imp.  I wonder if this is anything to do with them?  There’s a third one, too, isn’t there?  Can’t remember her name.  But I’ll find out tomorrow.  And I’m going to get a look at that ballet lesson!

Emilia got to Brook Lane early the next day.  She went straight to the school office to check when the ballet class was.  Mrs Harris, the school secretary, checked her list.
“Oh, yes.  As I thought.  Every Monday.  Four o’clock in the gym.  Madame Bresson.  Are you thinking of joining, Emilia?”
“No, just checking for someone else.  Is there a list of participants, by any chance?”
“Yes
one moment.  Yes, here we are.  Nina, Marcia, Rosalind, Gabrielle, Valeria, Tabitha, and two boys, Ralphie and Paul.  Does that help?”
“Thank you.  Yes.  Thanks, Mrs Harris.”
“Marcia.  That was the other one.  Six girls and two boys.  Well, well, Paul.  I’m going to come along tonight and spy on you!” she said to herself.  “I want to see what’s going on there.” 

Paul arrived at school on time.  Hiss class was 1A.  Morning lessons passed without incident.   The three girls were all in 1C, as a concession to the fact they had been close friends for a couple of years now.  At lunchtime they sought out Paul in the playground.
“Don’t forget ballet tonight, will you, Paul?” smirked Marcia.  “I hope you’ve got your own leotard.  Rosalind’s spare one’s at home, so if you haven’t you’ll have to exercise naked!”
“Very funny, Marcia.  Don’t worry.  My mum’s bought me one and I’ll get it before the end of lessons.”
“She made sure to get a boy’s yellow one?” asked Rosalind.
“Course.  She’s not stupid.”
“Oh, she doesn’t take after you, then,” sneered Tabitha.
“Shut up, Tabitha!”
“Careful, Paul,” said Marcia, threateningly, “remember that nice little video we took of you?  It would be unfortunate if I had to put it on my Facebook page, wouldn’t it?”
“Sorry,” said Paul, through gritted teeth.
“That’s better!  Good little girl, Pauline!” 

During afternoon lessons, Mrs Harris brought in a brown paper parcel, and handed it to Paul’s form teacher, Miss Alexander.  She glanced at Paul, and put it in her desk drawer.  At the end of lessons she called Paul up. 
“Your mum left this.  She said you’d know what it was.”
“Thanks Miss.  Yeah, my ballet costume.  I only started last week.”
“Oh, that’s nice.  I hear Madame Bresson is a very good teacher.”
“She is.  She says I’ll be really good if I practise.  And fit, as well.”
“Good for you, Paul.  It’s a shame more boys don’t do ballet.”
Miss Alexander let Paul stay in the classroom while she sat at her desk marking books.  At a quarter to four he left and made for the gym.  Valeria and Gabrielle were the only ones in the changing room, giggling about something, or nothing, as usual.  Paul mumbled a greeting and quickly slipped into a cubicle.  He pulled off his clothes and put on a pair of panties from his rucksack.  He thought pale yellow would be best this time.  He opened the parcel.  All his things had been neatly wrapped and packed into a box.  The first packet he opened contained a pair of yellow tights.  Hmm, quite dressy, he thought.  But why not?  All those stupid girls have got white.  I bet they’ll be jealous!  In the same package there was also a little yellow ribbon choker.  What’s she put that in for?  Won’t be needing that, for a start!  Typical of mum.  She probably thinks we all get dressed up to the nines, just for practice.  Then a slightly chunkier package.  Wow, new ballet shoes.  Silver ones!  They look like satin.  He slipped them on.  They are definitely going to be jealous!  He could hear the rest of the class arriving and getting changed.  The girls often changed in the main part of the room.  He and Ralphie preferred the privacy of a cubicle.  Right, now for the leotard.  This must be it.  Yeah, he could see the yellow material through the tissue.  He ripped open the wrapping.  His jaw dropped. “What?”  he cried out loud.  For the new leotard was yellow all right, but it had a design of little red bows all over it!  Exactly like Autumn’s panties!
“You all right in there?” a voice called.  Rosalind.  He was so shocked he couldn’t reply for a moment.
“Yes, fine.  I’m fine.  Be out in a minute.”
What was he going to do?  Why would his mother have bought him such a thing, and why send it along today?  Had she found his collection of panties?  He vaguely remembered her saying there were only two yellow leotards on the site, so she’d ordered one of each.  It must be coincidence!  Surely!
“Come on, then.  Madame Bresson’s waiting!”
He didn’t reply, still undecided about what to do.  His mind was made up for him, however, when Marcia pulled the curtain aside.
“What’s the problem?”  Her eyes alighted on the leotard.
“Oh my god!  Look at this, girls.”
All six of them gathered round.  There was gasps of surprise.
“Oh, that’s so pretty!” said Valeria.
“So cute!” added Tabitha.
“Awesome!” said Nina.  “Get it on, and come and show Madame Bresson.  She’ll love that!”
“But, I
I think my mum sent it by mistake
”
“Here, let’s help you,” said Rosalind.  “Come on, step in.  Good boy!  That’s it!  See?  You look fabulous!”
“What’s this?” added Gabrielle.  “A little satin choker to match!  Turn around.  You can’t show up without this!”

In his new ballet outfit, Paul was shepherded into the gym.  Madame Bresson had been looking a little miffed, for she liked her girls – and boys – to be punctual.  But her irritation melted into delight when she saw Paul’s costume.
“Paul
oh, trĂšs jolie!  It’s so nice to see you taking your lessons so seriously.  Today you are the premiĂšre danseuse.  Come, my little dancers.  Let’s get started!”
Paul took his place in line at the bar.  The choker taunted him with its constant reminder of his girlishness.  His body shimmered in its glamorous new sheath of yellow satin, peppered with tiny bows.  He sighed inwardly with despair.  Rosalind whispered from behind him.
“Your favourite design, Paul.  Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others – yet!”

[Sandra B]

Chapter 10.  Confession

Unbeknown to Paul, the members of the class were not the only ones admiring his new costume.  Emilia had allowed the lesson to get under way, and then sneaked into the main gym shower and changing room, which adjoined the gym itself.  She quietly opened the double door the tiniest crack, and peeped through.  She nearly laughed out loud when she saw her little protĂ©gĂ© exercising at the bar.  She covered her mouth and stared in disbelief.  His mother, having seen Autumn’s panties in his bag, must have decided he liked the pattern, and bought him the appropriate leotard.  How delightful!  And he was wearing a ribbon choker too!  What a little sweetie!  She could see from the smiles and grins of his classmates that they thought so too.  She watched for a few minutes, then tip-toed out again, bursting with this new intelligence.  But as she made her way home, she decided it was too important to share with Imelda for the time being.  No, she wanted some fun of her own first of all.  And she knew how to get it.

She telephoned Paul later that evening.
“Hi Paul.  Your mum’s given us the go-ahead to get your ears pierced.  And for the sleepover.  Are you around after school tomorrow?  We could nip along to the jeweller’s and get them done.”
“Yes, Em, I’m not doing anything, apart from homework, that is.  Shall I meet you at the gates?”
“Sure.  See you during the day, in any case.”
Emilia had decided she would tax him with his new hobby Tuesday afternoon, and see what he had to say for himself.  She was also thinking it would be lovely to have a good look at him in his costume, and determined that she would have him in it on Friday evening.
“Yes.  And I’ll get a few snaps of him.  What’s today?  The thirtieth of April.  It’s Imelda’s birthday on the seventh.  That’s Monday.  Oh, and it’s a bank holiday that day, too.  Maybe I could get one framed and give it to her for a present.  She’d like that.  Mind you, she’d like the real thing even better!  But it’ll do her good to wait for once.

Tuesday came, and Paul waited for Emilia at the school gates.  They walked together to the jewellers.  Emilia broached the subject of ballet.  She wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“So, Paul, your mum tells me you’re going to ballet lessons.  I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, er, yes, Em.  I was going to tell you.  I thought I ought to do something, you know.  Our teacher said everyone should join a club or something.”
“And why ballet?  I didn’t know you were interested.”
“Oh, well, I’m not particularly, you know.  But apparently it’s very good for your fitness and flexibility.”
“Who else goes?  Is it a large class?”
“Not really.  There’s a boy called Ralphie, and a few girls.”
“Oh, does that friend of your go?  What’s her name?  Rosamond?”
“Oh, er, yes.  Rosalind.  She’s not really a friend.  Just an acquaintance.”
“Rosalind.  That’s right.  But your mum said you see her regularly.”
“Not regularly.  I’ve seen her a couple of times.”
“Did she persuade you to join up?”
“Er, maybe, a bit.  But it was my decision.”
“And what about her friends?  You know, Marcia and Tabitha.”
“Oh, are they her friends?  Yeah, they’re in the class too.”
“Come on, Paul.  Those three are solid.  What’s going on?”
“Nothin’
”
“Tell me!  Or I’ll go speak to Tabby myself.”
“No.  Please don’t do that.  All right.”  He hung his head.  “They saw my panties – Autumn’s panties – one day at school. They made me show them.  They took photos.  I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be.  I can’t believe you got caught by those three.  Goodness knows what they’ll get up to with you.  So you have to do what they say, right?”
“Yeah.  So far it’s only been a video, and the ballet class.  I’m hoping they’ll forget about it eventually.”
“A video?”
“Yeah.  In Rosalind’s old ballet costume.  Totally embarrassing.  That’s the worst thing.  I wish I’d never done it, but I was frightened.”
“Idiot!  They’ll never let go of you now, you know that?  Not unless I warn them off.”
“Would you?”  Paul looked up, hopefully.
“Well, I could
  But not for the time being.  I’m interested in what they get up to.  Keep me informed, Paul.”
“But
.”
“Let’s get these ears done.  Come on!”

Paul’s ears were pierced, and tiny silver keepers put in.  He was given instructions how to proceed until they healed up.  He and Emilia walked back together towards his house.
“You were brave in there.  You didn’t make a sound, or even flinch.  You were brave to wear that pretty costume to ballet, too.”
“How did you know?”
“I watched you through the door.  It really is very cute.”
“Maybe.  But next week I’m wearing a plain one.”
“That’s fine.  But this Friday night I want you in your pretty one.  With the choker.  And with your matching panties.  Understood?”
“Yes, Emilia.”
“You can come over straight after school.  They’re going out at three.  Here, take this.  This is my front door key.  You can get changed and wait for me.  I should be back by four thirty.  I have to stay a bit late to help my teacher put out the chairs for the conference on Monday, when school's closed.  Prepare us some drinks and biscuits.  You know where everything is.  I want to take a good look at you.  Got it?”
“Yes, Emilia.”
“Good.  Don’t tell Mel.  When I’m ready it’ll be a nice surprise for her!”

[Plateguy]

Very nice story.  Can’t wait to see how Paul enjoys being a little girl.  Emilia and Mel could even make Paul into a baby doll sometime too.

[Sandra B]

Chapter 11.  Autumn in Spring

On Thursday evening, Paul packed his ballet costume, and Autumn’s panties, into his rucksack.  He wrapped the whole lot tightly in a plastic bag, and buried it right at the bottom.  He wasn’t going to risk anyone finding them.  As he made his way to school on Friday, he thought “Well, perhaps tonight we’ll have the evening to ourselves.  I certainly hope there won’t be any unexpected visitors, like last week!”  Lessons were uneventful to the point of being boring.  No-one, including the teachers, could think of anything but getting away for the long weekend.  No-one that is, except perhaps Rhianna and Denise, the two school swots in year two, who would have been quite happy to stay at school over the whole weekend.  But more of them later.
As soon as the final lesson finished, Paul was out of the door, out of the school gates, and walking quickly towards Emilia’s house.  He was aware of being a little exhilarated at the prospect of discarding his heavy, ugly school clothes, and slipping into his light, stretchy ballet gear, but his conscious self preferred not to explore the source of those feelings.  Also, he found the secret, illicit conspiracy between Emilia and himself rather exciting.  As he turned the key in the lock of her front door, he imagined himself a spy on a secret mission.  He looked suspiciously up and down the road, to make sure he wasn’t being watched, before finally pushing open the door and sliding in.  The house was still and silent.  He took off his shoes and  pushed them under the stairs, then made his way up to Emilia’s bedroom.  All the piles of clothes had been cleared away, and it was delightfully clean and neat.  Without more ado he stripped off his uniform and underclothes and recovered the plastic bag from the depths of his rucksack.  First on were Autumn’s panties.  He reflected momentarily on the slew of trouble his interest in them had landed him in.  Then his yellow tights, his ballet shoes, and finally his leotard.  Oh yes, and he musn’t forget the little yellow ribbon choker.  Having wriggled and squirmed until he felt everything was fitting properly, he contemplated himself in the mirror.  He liked what he saw.  He felt good, and, he flattered himself, he looked good too.  He found a brush on the dressing-table and brushed his hair.  It was definitely getting longer.  He wanted to grow it out, and he was surprised but pleased that his mother hadn’t suggested a haircut for a while now.  He looked at his watch.  Four-fifteen.  Emilia would be here soon.  He’d better get a snack ready for her, and they could sit together in the living room.  He skipped downstairs and made for the food cupboard and the fridge.

Unfortunately for Paul, Fate had decided to take a hand for the second time that week.  It had decreed that a number of things should occur.  First, Emilia’s task should take longer than she had anticipated.  Second, Mrs Dikinson should forget to put her phone on charge the previous night, and only discover her omission as she and the family were about to depart.  Third, Mrs Dikinson’s sister, Catherine Lowell, who lived in an adjoining town, should choose this day to make an impromptu visit to the shopping centre near her sister, accompanied by her daughter, Autumn, and Autumn’s best friend, Penelope.  Had any one of these occurrences not taken place, Paul’s evening would have been as idyllic as he had hoped.  But the combination of all three wreaked disaster.

Mrs Lowell and the girls cut short their shopping expedition.  The shopping centre was crowded, as it always was on a Friday night, the girls were tired, and so was she.  Nevertheless she had manged to buy a few clothes for herself and the girls, and also for the girls rather cute red belt purses on red leather belts.
“I wonder if Eleanor’s in?” said Mrs Lowell, aloud.  “I’ll give her a ring.  Maybe you girls would like to say hello to Emilia and Nathan?”
“Yes please, mummy!” cried Autumn.  She loved going to her aunt’s house.  There was always fun playing with Emilia’s old dolls, and tasty things to eat.
“Oh.  Her phone’s going straight into voicemail.  It’s not far, anyway.  Shall we go and see if they’re in?”

As they drove towards Emilia’s house, Emilia herself was still unstacking chairs in the school hall.
“I should give Paul a ring,” she thought.  “But I guess he’ll be fine for another half hour or so.  There’s plenty of food in the kitchen and he can watch television if he wants.”
Paul had almost finished preparing their tray when there was a knock at the door.
“That’ll be Em!” he said excitedly, and dashed into the hallway.  He threw open the door, and found himself confronted, not by Emilia, but by a youngish, rather handsome, woman, flanked by two little girls.  All three stared at him in amazement.  He stared back in horror.  Wide-eyed, they looked him up and down several times.  For several seconds no-one spoke.  Eventually, Mrs Lowell found her voice.
“Good afternoon.  I’m sorry, I was wondering if Mrs Dikinson is in.”
“Mrs Dikinson?” repeated Paul, in a daze.  He was still in shock.
“Or Emilia?”
“Emilia?  Emilia.  Yes.  She should be
.  I mean, she’s expected home any minute.”
“I’m sorry.  Who are you?  I don’t think I recognise you.”
“Me?  Who am I?  Oh, oh yes, I’m Paul.  I’m a friend of Emilia’s.”  His mind began to function again.  “I was just waiting for her to come home.  I was just practising my ballet.  I do ballet at school, and, you know, I have to practise, or
.”  His voice trailed off.
“Nice to meet you, Paul.  I’m Catherine Lowell, Eleanor’s sister.  This is my daughter, Autumn, and her friend, Penelope.”
At the mention of Autumn’s name, Paul froze again, and immediately blushed to his ears.  He stood there, unable to move.
“Would you mind if we came in, and waited for Emilia?”
“Oh.  No.  Of course.  Not at all.  Please come in.”
He stood aside and they trooped into the kitchen.
Mrs Lowell turned to him.
“I must say that’s a very pretty ballet costume, Paul.  The design looks familiar, somehow.”
“Mummy!  Mummy!” whispered Autumn.
“Yes, dear?”
“Come here!”
Mrs Lowell bent down, and her daughter whispered something in her ear.
“Oh, really, darling?  How funny!  My daughter says she has a pair of panties with exactly the same design!”
“Yes, I do!” cried Autumn, “Shall I show you?  They’re in my drawer upstairs.”
And before Paul could respond she had run off up the stairs, with Penelope in pursuit.
Mrs Lowell could see Paul was feeling rather awkward, not to say nervous, so she tried to put him more at ease by making conversation.
“Paul.  I suppose you’re at Brook Lane too?”  He nodded.  “Do you like it there?  Emilia always speaks very highly of the place.”
“Oh, yes.  It’s a good school
  I wonder where Emilia is?  I was expecting her a while ago.  Perhaps I’ll give her a ring.”
But even as he picked up his phone, there was another knock at the door.  Paul jumped like a scalded cat, and hurried to answer it.  This time it was Emilia.
“Sorry, Paul, I got held up.”
“Your aunt’s here,” he whispered.  “I told her I’m doing ballet practice.”
Emilia looked startled.  “What’s she doing here?”
“And Autumn.  And another one.”
Emilia walked into the kitchen.
“Catherine!  How are you?  I hope Paul’s been keeping you entertained?”
“Oh, yes.  But we’ve only just arrived.  I tried to ring your mum, but I couldn’t get through, so we thought we’d just come over on the off chance.  We’ve been to Eastfield shopping centre, but it was so packed in there we just had to leave.”
“What a shame.  The family is out for the rest of the evening.  Mum’s always forgetting to charge her phone, so that’s probably it.  Where’s 
”
“Autumn and Penelope are upstairs.  You’ll laugh – Autumn had a pair of panties with the same design as Paul’s leotard!  She’s gone to get them.”
“Really?” said Emilia nervously.  “Her stuff is all over the place.  I don’t know if
.”
But at that moment steps were heard on the stairs, and the two girls reappeared.
“Mummy!  My panties have disappeared!” complained Autumn.  “I left them right on top.  Someone’s taken them!”
“Darling, I’m sure no-one’s taken them,” laughed Mrs Lowell.  “Emilia, you haven’t heard of any pantie thieves operating in the area, have you?”
Emilia laughed nervously.  Paul shifted from one foot to the other, and turned bright red again.  Their behaviour wasn’t lost on Mrs Lowell.
“Emilia?  Do you know where Autumn’s panties might be?”
“N-no, Catherine, I don’t think so
” murmured Emilia, weakly.
“But you do know something, don’t you?”
Paul was determined Emilia should not get blamed for anything, so with the utmost gallantry he said,
“Actually it was me, Mrs Lowell.  I borrowed them because I thought the design was so nice, and I wanted my mum to get me a leotard just the same.  That’s all.  Emilia didn’t know about it until afterwards.”
“I see.  So you borrowed them, did you.  And did you return them?”
“Not yet.  But I will.”
“That boy took my panties?” whined Autumn, in dismay.  “Why did he take my panties?”
“Well, darling, it seems he liked them so much he couldn’t help himself,” said her mother, sarcastically.  “So Paul, where are they now?”
“They’re
they’re
 at home.  I’ll bring them back tomorrow, first thing.”
That’s what he said, but Mrs Lowell was a perceptive woman, and she noticed him tugging down the legs of his leotard as he spoke.
“At home.  I see.  You’re sure about that?”
Poor Paul squirmed under the interrogation, and turned an even brighter shade of scarlet.  He didn’t reply.
“You’re not wearing them, by any chance?”
Still no reply, but he showed signs of wanting to flee the room.  So Mrs Lowell came over to him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled up one leg of that pretty leotard. 
“I knew it!”  She could clearly see the pattern of red bows underneath his tights.
Autumn stared in disbelief.  “He’s wearing my panties!” she wailed.
Penelope covered her mouth with her hand.
“Would you like to explain to my daughter exactly why you’re wearing her panties?”
“I
I
”
“Or would you like to explain to Emilia’s mother, and your mother?  That’s the alternative.”
“OK, I
”
“The truth, please,” said Mrs Lowell, sternly.
“I couldn’t help it,” said Paul, his eyes filling with tears, “I thought they were so pretty.  I only borrowed them.  My mum bought me this leotard, and because they matched, I thought
. I thought it would be OK.”
“I see.”
“Please don’t tell Mrs Dikinson or my mum.  I won’t be able to see Emilia or Nathan again if you do.”
Mrs Lowell sat down at the kitchen table and looked at him.  Her face was very serious, but if you could have seen inside her mind you would have found only mischief and delight.
“OK, Paul.  Here’s the deal.  You let me punish you, you make restitution to Autumn, and we’ll say no more about it.  You can keep her panties, as you obviously like them so much.”
“But mummy
”
“And I’ll buy you new ones, whichever ones you want.”
“Yippee”
“Agreed, Paul?”
“Yes.  Anything you say.  Of course, Mrs Lowell.”
“Emilia, is that fair?”
“Oh, yes, aunt.  Very fair.  I’m sure we’re both very grateful for that.”
“I’m sure you are,” said Mrs Lowell, looking at her quizzically. 

[babycakes]

This phrase seems so appropriate for this story:  "O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!" (Verse by Walter Alva Scott) 8)

Can't wait for the next entanglement.

[Sissy Poopsie]

Loving this story.

Paul should be made to wear even more girly panties. Maybe with little ballerina's and pretty pink bows.