Though the backless slippers had but short wedge heels, the boy took hesitant steps. “Let me help you, sweetheart.” Reaching her hand around his smoothly covered waist, Carolyn assisted the femininely gowned boy from the room and down the wide stairs to the brightly decorated dining room.

Again the input from the boy’s senses seemed almost overwhelming. Here he was, being supported by a beautiful woman dressed in the briefest of costumes and smelling of the most wonderful perfume, her arm encircling his waist and pulling him close, all the while his own skin sheathed in the silkiest of fabrics; and more, not only was his attire softly arousing as it brushed his thighs, it was exquisitely feminine.

“Good Morning, Chrissy,” greeted Mary, his host as they entered the room. “Did you sleep well, darling?” she queried as Carolyn led the boy to her waiting arms. “I know a big boy like you doesn’t want to hear it, but you look very pretty in Susan’s nightie,” she cooed as she enveloped the boy in her arms. “I’m sorry about your lost luggage but it wasn’t so bad, was it, dear?”  Blushing deeply as she gently brushed a stray hair from her young guest’s forehead, he could only nod.  “It’s a shame boys never have the chance to wear such pretty things and look so nice,” she continued. “It’s just not the same around the house with Susan being away at school; she loved playing dress-up with all her pretty clothes.” As the boy took his seat at the table, he noticed what must certainly be loneliness and heartache in his host’s eyes.

“Oh Carolyn, you’d better try calling the school again and see if they’ve found Chris’ suitcase,” Mary called to the maid as they finished their breakfast of melon and toast.  Unsure of his emotions, Chris looked forward to finally getting back into jeans and shirt.

“I just tried again, Ma’am; there’s still no answer at the school,” said Carolyn as she returned to the room.

Noting the distress in the boy’s expression, Mary motioned him to her, and cradling the still nightgowned lad in her lap, she hugged him close.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart; we can’t have you spending the  whole week in Susan’s nightie, now can we?”

Again, a sense of guilt and shame came over the boy, for that very thought seemed somehow appealing.

“I suppose we’d better drive over to the school; perhaps your suitcase is still in the driveway where we left it,” comforted Mary.  “In any case, it’s time you were out of your nightie and dressed.  Carolyn, take Chrissy upstairs,” the maid was directed. “ We’ll have to find something else for him to wear in the car.”

Taking her charge in hand, Carolyn led him from the room and back up the long curved stairway.  Knowing that he would soon be out of the silky gown, Chris seemed to take special note of its whisper-like softness. As he climbed each step, he secretly delighted as the lace hem caressed his thighs and panty-covered rear. Before they were halfway up the long staircase, he couldn’t help but notice another sensation. Growing more tumescent with each caress, seemingly out of his control, it strained against the lacy confines of his silky panties. This new “problem” did not pass the notice of the sexily clad maid. Smiling, she let her hand glide around the boy’s waist and teasingly slowed their pace a bit. Her proximity made matters worse as the added sensation of her touch roused the now flush boy even further. At last reaching the bedroom, the boy, now almost quivering, broke free and rushed into the bathroom to hide his embarrassment.

“What is it, sweetheart?” responded Carolyn, hurriedly following the boy into the bath.  There she found the boy, his cheeks ablaze, covering himself with his hands as best he could.

“Darling, don’t be embarrassed,” the maid said softly.  “Did your lacy little nightie do this?” she asked.

Moving his hands from their position, she let her fingertips side over the front of his gown. She teased, “It seems our little Christine enjoys being a precious little girl, doesn’t it?”

 

“Oh Chrissy, look what you’re doing to your frilly little panties; if it wasn’t for this, I’d think you were a sweet young girl.”

Moaning softly, the boy, now a captive to the maid’s surrendered to the rush of pleasure. His body sheathed in delicate silk, his feet shod in pom-pomed satin slippers.