Chapter 7

"Are you sure you want to do this?" mom asked me for the umpteenth time. Naked as the day I was born, I was sitting at my desk, looking in the mirror as mom pinned my hair up the way the beautician had shown her, using pins with little fake diamonds on them. They made my hair sparkle like a cluster of stars caught in a dark nebula.

Okay, romantic it's not, but it's the way I, ever the scientist, saw it.

Anyway, combined with the highlighting the hairdresser had done I had glamorous hair, instead of my usual dull brown locks.

"I have to," I repeated, also for the umpteenth time. "Otherwise Carl would be the only one there naked. Besides, what choice do I have? I haven't a thing to wear," I reminded her with a nervous laugh, trying to joke myself out of my near panic.

I was all pink and clean from a good tubbing. My nipples were hard with excitement, and I could see my ribs moving with every anxious breath. My tummy was fluttering, though that was only on the inside.

Daddy, of course, was downstairs watching TV and reading the newspaper, totally oblivious to my anxiety. He would only find out about my display after the ball was over, presenting him with, as Mademoiselle Duclos would say, a fait accompli.

I wondered if she was going to be there at the dance as a chaperone. I hadn't liked the way she'd fondled Carl. Maybe my being there in the altogether would warn her off.

"You're very brave," mom observed. "There, your hair is done. How do you like it?"

I studied it. I looked so different with my hair all piled on my head, a few graceful ringlets trailing around my ears. It made my neck look longer. "Beautiful," I decided honestly, telling myself that it would take some getting used to, and reminding myself I wouldn't have to look at it.

"You'll need earrings, of course, and I have just the thing, but they'll wait until we get your makeup done. You do it, I'll guide you," she assured me, pushing an intimidating array of pigments and potions at me.

I'd never been big on stuff like jewelry and makeup. Oh, I had studs in my ear lobes, simple gold ones, but that and the cross I usually wore, the one grammy and grampy Finch gave me when I turned thirteen, was all the jewelry I owned.

With mom's guidance, I managed to get my face painted without too many disasters. At first I felt like a clown. Then I noticed how the eye makeup brought out little gold flecks in what I had always thought of as dull brown eyes. Pinked up, my lips looked more kissable, I thought, and the base and rouge did a lot to hide those ugly things like pores, and emphasize my dimples.

"Beautiful. Now, stand up and let me look at you," mom ordered.

"What time is it?" I asked anxiously, reaching for my glasses and putting them on.

"Relax, you have plenty of time." Mom could be so steadying! "Turn around, slowly."

I did, still barefoot. Well, totally bare, actually, watching myself in the mirror. I looked so exposed! There was nothing between me and the world, and that was how I'd be at the dance!

My innards gave a funny little squinching sort of thing. It felt just a little bit like I needed to pee or something, only not quite the same. It was like that feeling you get when you ride a roller coaster and you take that first big dip, you know?

"I think a little enhancement might be in order," she mused, reaching for the makeup. With gentle strokes she began painting my breasts with base, smoothing it on carefully, very lightly. "You have such lovely skin you don't need much," she went on thoughtfully, fading the contrast between my faint tan and the paleness of my breasts. I was getting all twitchy from the contact.

She didn't do my whole body, just the parts that were lighter - breasts, bottom, pussy area, hips - blending them into the more tan areas, fading out those little imperfections like moles and freckles.

"Oh!" I flinched when she used her fingers to gently pinch some blush on my nipples. She brushed them with her fingertips to spread it and they stood up even more anxiously. Self-consciously I cupped my breasts in my hands, embarrassed. Then I took my hands away and looked at my reflection, noticing how my titties had been accented to stand out just a little bit more.

Kneeling in front of me, she took a comb to my pussy hair. "This is lovely and soft," she observed. "It smells good, too."

I giggled nervously. "I shampooed it, and used conditioner on it," I admitted.

"What a good idea! I'll have to try that someday."

That, I decided, was getting a little too close to her sex life for me. "What time is it?"

"Plenty of time," mom insisted. "You want to make him wait for you anyway. It heightens expectations."

I decided I'd never be any good at this mating dance thing. I'm one of those people who's always at least five minutes early for everything.

Still on her knees, mom rocked back, looking thoughtful. "We need a little something," she mused. "Wait here a minute."

In moments she was back with a length of gold ribbon. Kneeling again, combing and tugging gently on my pubic hair, she fashioned a delicate little bow near the top of my pussy!

"Oh my," I said softly, feeling my inner petals softening at the thought of the way it would draw attention to Down There.

"Now jewelry," she said, popping out again and returning with a pair of her prettiest, dangly earrings and a matching necklace, just as we heard the doorbell go off.

"Oh God!" I moaned. "Give me those." I practically snatched the earrings from her. While I nervously got them on, she stood behind me, calmly fastening on the necklace. I heard daddy greeting Carl as I slipped my shoes on, and stood in front of the mirror one last time.

That stranger was back again, the one I'd first met in the mall mirror. I looked taller, more mature. The earrings and necklace sparkled. My neck looked long and graceful, and knowing eyes looked back at me. Even with my glasses on I didn't look geeky at all! With the jewelry and sparkles in my hair I looked like a princess.

A naked princess.

I was soooo naked! The glitter of the jewelry on my ears and at the base of my throat and the delicate accent of the golden bow at my pubes, the sparkling shoes on my feet; they only emphasized how naked I was everywhere else. There was nothing but skin and a little shy patch of hair! I was bare breasts and ribs and flanks and hips and legs and - and - well, and EVERYTHING!

"Here's your coat," mom offered, standing behind me, holding it for me slip my arms into the sleeves. For a horrifying moment I almost panicked, thinking I couldn't possibly do this. I thought I was going to be sick!

Then mom drew the coat up my arms and rested her hands on my shoulders, and just that motherly touch calmed me. I was still burning with an adrenalin rush, but there was this powerful, calming strength in me, too, and it can only have come from her. I rested my hand on hers for just a moment, meeting her eyes in the mirror, and I know she saw the love and gratitude I felt for her.

Then I fastened the coat, and studied myself again. There was no way anyone could possibly tell what was concealed beneath that coat except, maybe, that I didn't have a full skirt on, since it didn't flare out.

But I knew. I could feel its satin lining, cool and slick, on my back, my breasts, my hips, my arms and shoulders, my waist and legs.