"We're having a girls' party next Saturday, and I want you to be there. It's for cousin Rachael and her friends."

Linden-Rose found his cheeks reddening. The house would be full of girls... the same age as his cousin, so a year or two younger than him. For some reason he felt hot, then just as quickly he went cold and his knees couldn't hold him up in his nylon body suit. He had to sit on the floor with his back against an armchair as his mother pursued the subject.

"When it's a girls' party there are certain standards you have to meet, in behaviour and appearance. You will have to wear the right sort of clothes."

All of these things matched the things Linden-Rose was worrying about. "C-Clothes?" he echoed.

"Yes, and I'd better start getting you ready now. You'll need a good five days of getting used to what you will need to wear. I don't want you looking out of place. Come up with me now and I'll sort out a set of clothes to start getting you used to the feel and movement of your party outfit."

Linden-Rose was shell-shocked. His mother was making it sound as if he would be wearing something even more soppy than the shirts and tight shorts she usually made him wear. She took him into her own room and removed his outfit.

"And this lingerie won't do," she said, peeling his panties down his smooth legs. "If you're not going to stand out in a party of eighteen-year-old girls, you will need a bra, and it will have to be filled out."

A wail forced itself from the youth's throat, followed by blubbering noises as his tongue and lips got caught up. "B-B-But I've never b-b-bra-ed before, Mama. I d-don't know how to p-p-put one on." His mother approached him with the frightening garment.

"You can wear one of mine. Put your arms out in front."

Linden-Rose was clasped into his mother's white, shell-cupped bra with lacy prettiness, followed by a pair of her pretty panties: not too much lace, but silky smooth in snow-white rayon. "It's no use putting you in a shirt, now that you have protruding breasts, darling. This blouse will be more suitable."

Its long, white sleeves fluttered round his arms and had pearled white buttons that she fastened for him on the cuffs. The plain collar had a deep notch on either side, with lacey details over his breasts and down to the hem. He hoped she couldn't see the stiffening in his penis as she fastened it down the front for him. "And you can wear my shorts for the time being."

When their cold silkiness gathered round his panties, clasping his blouse around him, Linden-Rose almost lost his power of speech. "W-W-Will I h-h-have to w-w-wear orange shorts at the p-p-party?"

"They're apricot shorts, darling. No, I'll buy you a proper party outfit for the day."

The young man spent a lot of time trembling and feeling pleasantly stiff in the gusset of his shorts and panties as his mother told him some of the things the girls would be talking about... so that he could join in. Dress shops, cosmetic tricks and hints, feminine hygiene between their legs. It was a new world that he was learning about.

The following day his preparations continued: he was taken to Sugar'n'Snip to have his hair done, and spent two hours in rollers while his nails were manicured and his nostrils were impregnated with heady sprays and conditioners. When he got home, feeling worryingly effeminate, he was put into another blouse, but with it, a waist slip and an A-line skirt with silky lining. He protested.

"This is what is expected at a girls' party, my dear. Now hold still while I pluck your eyebrows. Then I want to see you walking correctly in your single strap shoes." His mother found, as her darling stepped to and fro across her bedroom, that he held his legs in a more girl-like line when they were clad in pantyhose... and when his waist was laced securely in a lightly boned basque to bring out the full curves of his breasts and hips. She couldn't help noticing that Linden-Rose's breathing had become deeper and the bloom of his cheeks more flushed. Just what would be needed for Saturday.

"Your cousin is nearly ready for your party, Rachael," she said over the phone while her son was soaking in a deep tub of salts and perfumes.

"My party? I thought it was for him?"

"Of course it is, darling, but I told him it was for you, and he has bought you a present."

Rachael's laugh tinkled down the phone. "Well all my girlfriends will be there - eight of them. He'll be a bit outnumbered." Which was, of course, exactly what his mother had planned.

Saturday came, and Linden-Rose was put into his mother's most precious lingerie, causing his little penis to lift boldly into its satin gusset as it had become accustomed to each and every day for the past week. It lifted still higher when his mother informed him, opening her wardrobe, that she had his party dress ready for him.

"You will blend in nicely amongst the girls, pet, and no-one will even notice you," she smiled, applying the deft final touches to his make-up.

The living room was a riot of pastel shades of silk and satin, since Rachael had told her friends it was a 50s little girl beauty party... for Linden-Rose. There were squeaks and squeals, giggles and photographs as the young company got in the mood. All that was missing was the new girl himself. His mother had said that he would come down when the party was due to begin, at 8 o'clock. As the living room clock began to chime, the girls fell as quiet as their excitement would allow and gathered at the door in a sea of puffed sleeves, ruffled bodices and flaring skirts on oceans of petticoats. Then the door opened.

If ever a boy had a forcefully stiffened penis beneath his dress, it was Linden-Rose as hands with varnished nails belonging to nine delirious girls swept him rapturously into the room. He could scarcely find the floor with his Mary Jane shoes as he was turned this way and that across petticoats and examined minutely in every detail of his party dress, and what was underneath it.

He gave his present to Rachael: a darling hairband and necklace set with earrings to match. It came as a surprise to his mother, she said, as she sat and watched, and certainly to him, that everyone had brought a present for Rachael's lovely cousin: a necklace, a satin bonnet, a pair of high heels, a purse containing perfume spray, a pair of satin gloves, a darling silk and lace bed cape and a presentation pair of panties.

The girls went straight into party games, with Linden-Rose at the heart of the action and starting with Pass the Pansy. The bewildered 'new girl' was rolled around across the sizzling party dresses, sat in a circle, and when the music stopped, the girl holding him had to exchange panties with the pansy in her lap. Everyone helped to lift his dress and petticoats, of course and to pull down his panties, then dress him in his warm, new pair. His mother made sure the music stopped for each of the girls to have a turn.

Then it was time for Whose Hand Is It? Under a sea of satin dresses, his panties were slipped down to his knees by unknown hands, since all nine girls were clustered around him, and he had to guess whose fingers were holding his stiffened little penis. He could rule out only the two girls who were holding him by the arms, but his guessing was always wild with emotion as he was brought helplessly to three or four most embarrassing climaxes by exspert feminine fingers.

When Linden-Rose's first girls' party drew to a close at midnight, someone threw everyone into a thrill by declaring that she was having a girls' party herself on the following Saturday. His mother was able to promise her that Linden-Rose would be there, in a new party dress... and Rachael and all her friends were sure that they would be wearing new little girl dresses themselves... and even prettier pairs of panties.