Reluctant Diva 13
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 13 – The little details
One evening later that spring Mom returned from work in a strange mood. She was clearly preoccupied by something but as usual was being mysterious about it. I reckoned that this was one of her methods of keeping control of my life. After supper however, all was revealed.

“Now Jennifer, I have something to tell which will interest you” she began. “You remember me mentioning Jane Wilkins at work. She can be rather a shrinking violet but today we got to chatting about the pageant and what a success you were and she really opened up to me. She kept fretting about her son, Marty. She’s worried about him and I can sympathise. It’s hard bringing up a family on your own, as I know only too well.” she added bitterly.

After a pause she continued, “He’s still in his teens and already it seems he goes through girlfriends like a chorus girl through nylons. He’s really been quite mean to some of them too, from what she tells me. If he carries on the way he’s headed, she thinks he’ll end up a real womaniser, just like his father, and some other men I could mention.” She broke off and I guessed she was occupied with unhappy memories. Pulling herself together with an almost visible effort she continued, “He needs to be taken down a peg or two. Well…. I think I know just the girl to do it.”

When she had concluded she was looking at me significantly.
“Err…. Mom...” I started to protest instinctively. Trust Mom to take things way out of my comfort zone. But then I thought for a minute and it occurred to me that whatever she was planning for me might be a means to establish myself in her good books more permanently.
Screwing up my resolve, I looked back at her directly. “What have you got in mind?”

Our eyes met, and she came over and put her hands on my shoulders. “There’s my girl” she said softly “I can see you are beginning to trust your poor old mother.” Hearing such approval from her lips meant a lot to me. It was another of those special moments.

After a few seconds thus she went on, “So… I’m going to suggest to Jane that perhaps you and Marty ought to go on a date. I think her son might be in for a little surprise. Are you with me?”

I gulped and nodded dumbly. This was taking things to a whole new level and I stared down at the carpet trying to visualise what just might be entailed. I felt her hands on my shoulders again and then she gently lifted my chin so I faced her penetrating gaze. “What’s going on in that head, little miss?”

I knew I’d have to level with her. “It’s a bit scary” I started. “Do you think I can even get a boy like that to go out with me?”
I thought about it some more. “But it’s more than that. If I did, what would people think?”

“Like who?” she rejoined.

“Well. Like… Chris?”

“Oh honey!” my openness was rewarded with a hug “How sweet are you?! You’ve really got the hots for that boy, haven’t you?”

“Eww Mom, don’t!” I protested. “I just like him, that’s all.”
That got me a ‘playful’ tap on the butt.

“Okay it’s a bit more than that” I admitted. “Well… I wouldn’t want Chris thinking I liked someone more than him. He might not give a cuss, I don’t know, but if he did it might make him feel sad. Or he might think I’m trashy and not worth bothering with.”

“Young love!” exclaimed my Mom, laughing. “Oh honey. You have got it bad!” She snuggled my head down onto her bosom, and held me tight.
“Don’t worry, sweetie” she comforted. “We’ll let the Bennetts in on the secret, including your little ‘boyfriend’. They can be a help, too. I’ll take care nothing upsets that precious relationship you’re getting started. Or hoping to!” The last words really stung but she carried on seemingly oblivious to my feelings. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. Jane knows all about ‘Jennifer’ of course.” Why of course?! “But she tells me that Marty has no notion. They live outside of town and he’s already left high school, so he won’t have seen you there or anywhere else for that matter.”

“Okay, but how am I to get to meet him if he’s over there and I’m over here?” I asked doubtfully and was rewarded with another not altogether playful slap on my butt,
“Ouch!”

“Silly goose! Leave that to me. It will be easy for Jane and me to come up with something, you’ll see,” came the confident rejoinder.

The following evening Mom came home wearing a jubilant expression. Later, when we were preparing the meal in the kitchen, she let me in on the reason for her triumphant mood. “We’re invited to Jane’s for supper tomorrow. I’ll ask Rachel to babysit your brother. It’s all fixed!”

Jeepers-creepers! “Oh good!” I tried to sound pleased. All fixed! What have I got myself into now?
Ignoring the look of consternation on my face, she continued “After dinner tonight we’ll go through your wardrobe. It will be essential to make the right first impression, Jennifer. When you have your eye on a young man, there’s not much that you can leave to chance. It’s easy enough to attract them but you must never look too available.”
Attractive but not too available. Right!

She smiled at me, “Rest assured. You are in safe hands. I was never in want of a beau before I met your father.” Her expression changed at the unhappy reflections to which this memory was leading her, so I slipped my arm round her waist and gave her a squeeze. It was necessary to divert this train of thought before her mood settled into a worse one.

“You are such a looker, Mom. I can imagine how stunning you must have been in your teens.” I said and was rewarded by a returned squeeze and a peck on the cheek.

“Well it’s nice to have at least one fan”, she laughed.

Later she called me up to her room. “Now Jennifer, I don’t think you have anything in your closet that hits the right note” she started. “It’s an evening look we want, but party dresses just won’t cut it and of course day dresses are out. But… here are a couple of things of mine that don’t fit me anymore and I only wore once or twice at the very most.” She indicated a blouse and skirt that were laid out on the bed. “Try these on.”

Obediently I unzipped my dress and took it off.

“We’ll have to do something about that panty-girdle” she said thoughtfully “but it’s okay for now”. I put the blouse over my head, my arms through the armholes and pulled it down over my bra. It was in a white chiffon-like material, high-necked but completely sleeveless. It had a wide yoke of black cloth around the neck and there were two cloth covered buttons that went into loops behind the head which I fastened with some difficulty. There were cute thin strips of black piping at the shoulders, running down from the yoke and under the armpits.

The skirt was in a black material with a soft sheen to it, matching the yoke of the blouse. It was tightly fitted and had a very high waist. I stepped into it, tucking the loose hem of the blouse into the waist. It was hard to get the material even, but with Mom’s assistance, I managed to arrange it well enough. When zipped up the skirt hugged me tightly, and I mean tightly, from just below my bra to the top of my thighs. It fell to just above my knees with a slit 7 or 8 inches up the left thigh to enable the wearer to walk. A contrast strip of white material edged the front of this slit and ran up from the hem, continuing on to the waist where it was finished with a neat bow.

Mom handed me a pair of her black high-heels to wear so she could see the finished effect. They were a little too big but I slipped my feet into them and then gazed into the mirror, startled to see how curvy was the figure reflected therein. Eye-catching? The outfit was a head-turner! Though completely unlike what girls were wearing just then the style was elegant and timeless.

“It’s a little too loose up top.” Really! “And your straps are showing but with different under-things…. perfect!” exclaimed Mom. “I’ll meet you at the lingerie store after school tomorrow and we’ll do some shopping. We can put your bike in the trunk to save you riding home afterwards.”

True to her word the following afternoon Mom’s station wagon was already waiting outside when I rode up to the old-fashioned lingerie store which we’d visited before. Mom led the way inside.
“My daughter needs a new bra” said Mom in her most decided manner, speaking to the woman who seemed to run the store single-handed. “We’re looking for a strapless style or a halter.”

“We stock both” said the woman. “A good fit will be essential so perhaps the young lady would step in here to be measured.” She indicated the curtained-off area.

I did as I was asked, the woman accompanying me.

“Your blouse” she said in a calm voice. I undid the buttons and slipped it off.
“And this too” indicating my bra. I unfastened it behind my back and she took hold of the shoulder straps and pulled it off, without batting an eyelid.

In two minutes she had measured around me under my ‘bust’ and across my exposed nipples and the distance down from my shoulder too. Looking at the size label of my bra she called out to Mom “As I thought, she has outgrown her present size” and then to me “Wait a moment”.

She went back out through the curtain and I could hear her and Mom discussing various styles for some time. After what seemed an age the curtain flicked back and she entered, carrying several boxes. “This is one your mother has picked out for you which she thinks suitable”, she sniffed, expressing her disapproval of this choice quite eloquently even if without words. She took out a white longline bra in a shiny fabric. The cups were stitched round and round to form a perfectly conical shape. “It is pretty. The straps can be removed or fitted as one pleases” she explained.

She adjusted the length of the straps with a practiced eye and helped me into it. “Although “bullet bras” have become fashionable these days, you may not fill the cups quite enough” she mused doubtfully.

Mom drew back the curtain a little. “I believe there are pads which would deal with that problem” she said firmly.

“Indeed, we stock those too” and the woman disappeared to return with a pair of pads each stitched to form a small solid cone. There was even a round bead sewn onto the top of each. I guessed that this would ensure the tip of each cup was as padded out as possible.

She expertly slipped them into the cups of my bra and pushed them into position. Looking in the mirror I could see that with the pads in place I now filled the pointy cups of the bra perfectly. Dramatically I had a classic conical bust, just like in the Chansonette commercials in my mom’s magazines.

“That’s exactly the look we want” was the summary from my mother.

“Er Mom!” I wasn’t sure about this. I was ignored.

“We’ll take two – one in white and one in black. Have you panties that match? A high-cut style, I think, and she’ll need garters.”

While I dressed myself again, examples of these were duly produced and, after close inspection by my mother, a pair of both in each colour was chosen. Not only were the legs of the panties cut high but the only material at the back was a tiny vee at the waist. Known these days as a thong, the design was quite unusual back then. With the garter belts, my new underpinnings in their boxes formed quite a pile on the counter when we were done. My mother winced when the amount was rung up on the till but paid up nevertheless.

“Come Jennifer!” exclaimed Mom and marched me briskly from the store.

Next we visited the shoe department at Sears and after some trial and error, a pair of black patent pumps with 3 inch heels and a single ankle strap was selected for me. We made some purchases from the hosiery counter then, before I knew it, we were in the car and driving home with my head spinning. My parent seemed in an altogether light-hearted mood. “You couldn’t win another beauty pageant, could you, sweetie?” she joked. “Teenage girls are a tad too expensive for my purse!”

Missing the humour I looked at her aghast. For a brief moment, I thought she was serious!

Stopping briefly to collect Tom from our neighbour’s house, it was soon plain that we were on a tight schedule.
“Now Tom, Rachel will be here at 7pm to babysit you”, said Mom “so have your bath and into your PJs while Jennifer fixes your dinner.”

I made Mom and me drinks while she picked out what she would be wearing for the evening and then I prepared Tom’s dinner. She had gone into her own bathroom and called me there as soon as she was out of the tub. With only a towel wrapped round her, while I got ready to bathe she sat at the counter as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She laughed at my raised eyebrows, “This is what we girls do. Get used to it!”

I hastily stepped into the tub and bathed myself, conscious of my naked ‘bust’ but thankful that at least my private area was hidden by the water and perfumed foam. The towel round Mom looked none too secure and it was hard for me to concentrate on my ablutions. She was working on her eyebrows when it slipped down completely at one side, heightening my confusion. Instead of adjusting it to preserve her modesty she merely grinned flirtatiously in my direction. Next she stood up to check the mirror more closely and the towel fell to her waist, serving to remind me what a ‘real’ woman’s bust looked like.

“Just think, sweetie, this is how yours will be one of these days” she smiled.

She came over to the tub and leaned over me, running one hand under one of my budding mounds and then across to cup the other one. “Before very long too, I can see!”

Her naked bosom was inches from my eyes. My startled gaze dropped to my own developing chest which she stroked and tweaked. The effect on me was electric. With a smirk she straightened up and restored the towel to regain her modesty.

She left to get dressed, saying “No time to take care of that before we go out. You won’t want me to, I’m sure!” pointing to where my slender arousal was hidden below the water.

All it would have needed was for me to continue squeezing and stroking where she had left off while mentally conjuring the image of her naked breasts which had been so recently imprinted on my mind. That would have provided my highly-sensitised body with much-needed release.

It was not to be and ruefully I hurried to finish getting washed and dried as bidden. When Mom called me into her bedroom, she was ‘decent’ again in her bra and girdle, whereas I hadn’t a stitch on. She looked me up and down and turned me around to complete her inspection. My embarrassment at this did nothing to soothe the jangled state of my nerves.

“You have some important lessons to learn this evening Jennifer.” Her face bore its secretive expression. “The next 24 hours will prove a real education. You will thank me later on, you’ll see.” More mystery!

Well, I could take some comfort in seeing that my compliance with her plans seemed to be keeping me in her good graces, so that was something. It became evident that my parent hadn’t been idle herself in the meantime. She motioned to me to sit on the bed next to her. When I’d done so she held out me one of the pairs of panties we had purchased only that afternoon. They were white, high-cut and high-waisted and the minimal coverage at the rear amounted to a simple vee.

“See what I’ve done here” she said.

I could see that the cotton gusset inside them where the material was doubled had been unstitched at either end, both front and back. Mom had then neatly hemmed it so it couldn’t fray.

“You can guess what goes in here” she said, indicating the resulting sort of tunnel which had been formed. “A girdle would spoil the look of your butt in this skirt, or full cut panties, so tonight you won’t be wearing either. We want that cute round tush of yours to be free to fill out your skirt naturally. You may not know it, but the shape of a woman’s rear is at least as important as any of her other assets. Especially when she wants to attract the opposite sex.” Like that was just what I wanted!
“To avoid any unsightly bulges, you will need to tuck yourself in here. We bought this particular style because while it should be tight enough to hold everything in place, it won’t be squeezing that pretty derrière out of shape. Try them now.”

My face was crimson but I knew I’d better do as I was told. It took a little while to arrange myself in the intended way but the altered panties worked just like she said they would.

Mom beamed at me in triumph, pleased with her own ingenuity. “To save time, you will find that when you sit to pee, you should be able to slide them just a little way down and still keep yourself in there."

The tunnel was narrow but my little member was easily accommodated and held firmly in place and I showed a completely flat front. I wondered why all this trouble had been necessary when I could have used the surgical tape method for tucking like before. It was disconcerting to realise that I was wearing the tiniest, flimsiest pair of silky, lacy panties.

“They feel nice” I found myself saying, though the fragility of what was holding everything in was worrying me. With my butt cheeks so exposed, the feeling was more like I was wearing nothing at all!

I said so, but Mom had a ready answer as I ought to have expected. “It will serve to remind you how vulnerable a girl often can be. Something you need to keep in mind. Now the rest of your underwear.”

She handed me one of the new bras; the white one. Once she had made sure it was correctly positioned, Mom removed the shoulder straps completely. She took one of them, altered its length and re-attached it to the top of a bra cup. Then she led it around the back of my neck and clipped it to the other cup. Finally she inserted the little pads and fiddled with the halter thus formed until she was satisfied.

The effect on my bust was even more striking than it had been in the store. The halter strap lifted my prominent breasts skywards, or so it seemed, making them look bigger and pointier than ever. Next came the garter belt. Mom wrapped this around me and fastened it at the back on the tightest row of hooks. It had the effect of cinching in my waist so I could barely breathe. The mirror showed me a womanly pair of hips which were complemented perfectly by the roundness of my butt. Suddenly, instead of my natural curves, my figure formed a true hour-glass.

My mom tucked the suspender tabs in below my panties and handed me a pair of nylons.
“Careful not to snag those” she warned me. “They’re very sheer and don’t come cheap. Go and do your toenails first” handing me a bottle of bright red polish.
By the time I had finished my make-up routine, choosing a lipstick to match the polish, my toenails were dry enough for me to slip on the hose. They were nearly flesh-coloured and made my legs look totally bare but elegant and soft as well. I had taken care to make sure my fingernails were free of catches beforehand. I stood and gazed at the image of the girl in the mirror in awe. I couldn’t help but find her attractive, though the knowledge it was my own reflection made that seem weird.

My mom was ready herself by this time, wearing a shift dress in the palest blue which hid her figure but hinted at its curves. There was a matching jacket and she was wearing her pearls. She looked wonderful and smelt good too!

“Oh Mom!” I started to express my admiration but she wasn’t to be distracted. She helped me into my blouse and skirt, carefully adjusting the former’s folds so they were gathered evenly around my waist.

Next she brushed my hair and attached the hairpiece I’d worn to the pageant. She tugged and pulled till it was finally positioned to her satisfaction. As before, it gave the appearance of an elegant ‘up-do’. Earrings and bracelets that had been borrowed from her own dressing table followed. Finally I slipped on my new heels and stood in front of the mirror. What would be the result of all this preparation?
There before me was revealed a stunning young woman dressed up to the nines, albeit with a shocked expression on her face. Could this really be me?! So this was how to look attractive but not too available?
Viewing the image, the blouse was so sheer that, barely concealed by the thin material, the outline of a pair of pointed breasts immediately grabbed the attention. It was hard to get past them but as the eye travelled downwards, it was arrested by the tightness of the skirt which clung all the way down from just below the upward tilted bust-line. The skirt curved enticingly past a narrow waist, full hips and butt to the thighs, its split drawing attention to the roundness of the latter. To my doubtless inexperienced eyes, my reflection just screamed sex. Sex-on-legs!

She snapped her fingers and pointed to the top of my nylon which could just be seen in the slit, so taking the hint, I adjusted the garter tabs and smoothed the skirt down again.
I revolved before in the mirror again realising as I did so that the outline of each item of my underwear could be discerned beneath my outfit. Mom applied a generous spritz of her own perfume behind my ears and on my wrists, when the doorbell rang.

“There’s Rachel. Your fingernails now, and sharp about it” she commanded as she left the room.

As I stared at my reflection on the mirror, my private area was tingling in a familiar response. The little details! As I sat to apply the nail polish I reflected on how it was that nothing had been “left to chance”.