"You stop bawling," Joyce said, "or I'll give you something to bawl about, Now you fix your face and put some makeup on and then brush your hair out. Then you put the set on and I'll come in and take a look at you. I really want Leo to see how pretty you are. And, if you disobey me, or give me any more trouble, I will beat you till you can't walk. So, you get on with it."
Joyce went out of the bedroom and Norma was alone, shivering and weeping and she made a masterful effort to stop crying. She was able to do it and when she went into the bathroom she found that her eyes were swollen. She bathed them in cold water, until they were back to normal again. She washed her face and while she was brushing her hair, Joyce wandered into the room, a fresh drink in her hand, a new shade of pink in her face. Joyce was apparently captivated by the spirit of sensuality inherent in what she was forcing her daughter to do.
"Put eye makeup on, dear," she said, "and fix your pretty mouth with lipstick and I will dig out my black pumps for you to wear and we will really give Leo an eyeful."
She began fixing her face and applying eye shadow and liner and then she was ready, finally, to get out of her clothes and try 'the wispy black panty set on. She took the flat white box into the bathroom and when she handled the skimpy garments a sense of utter desolation and despair almost swamped her.
While the transparent pieces were beautiful, they were too small for her and when she began putting them on, she was close to tears again. The panties were really a small triangle of sheer material with a G string that nestled tightly against her skin and left her buttocks completely bare. The bra was also too small: it barely covered the lower side of her breasts. She could see the way they stood out on her ribcage, like twin bullets of unbelievable perfection and great allure. She realized she was admiring her own beauty and that made her face prickle and sting with quick warmth and shame.
When she stepped back and looked at the way the wispy panties fitted she saw that they were as transparent as glass, exposing every line and fold of her most intimate flesh. She might just as well be naked, she thought frantically.
Joyce returned to the bedroom and she was smiling with an air of great happiness. She pushed a frosted highball glass into Norma's thin white fingers and she laughed softly as her eyes gleamed with envious admiration for the young beauty she was seeing.
"I've brought you a drink, dear," Joyce said.
I want you to have it. It will make you feel much better and you won't be so nervous after you have had a drink or two. Now, bottoms up, dear." When Norma hesitated, Joyce glared at her and the anger came back into her face. "Drink it, damn you," Joyce said. "You obey me when I tell you to do something or I will beat the hell out of you. Now, drink it."
She remembered that she had put the glass up to her mouth and then she drank it all right down and she was sorry a moment later, because she actually liked the taste of the drink and Joyce seemed to know that she would enjoy it. She reached for the glass and took it from her.
"You finish with your makeup and then put on my heels and I will come in and check you over. I'll fix you another drink, but take my advice, don't gulp them down. Take it easy."
Joyce went off to the kitchen again and Norma stood straight and splendid in her near nudity and she could feel the drink that she had taken stirring in her being, heightening her perceptions, strengthening her, and when Joyce brought her another drink, she took it and she drank some of it and then she slipped the high heeled shoes on and when she paraded and pirouetted in front of the full length mirror she knew that she was lovely, beautiful beyond description. She drank some more of her highball and she was suddenly brave, bold, almost brazen. She could see the lush beauty of her pert young breasts and the mystical sculpture of her most interesting flesh and when she turned, she could see the luscious splendor of her plump white buttocks.
Joyce was staring at her and she could see that her mother was astonished.
"I had no idea," Joyce said, a bit thickly. "I thought you were just a pretty kid, but you are more than that, you are a very beautiful woman. I don't think I like the kind of competition you represent. Maybe this ain't such a good idea, after all."
"Why not?" Norma said. "You wanted Leo to see how pretty I can look.
Well, let's let him look."
Joyce was uncertain about things; she shook her head.
"I think not," she said. "I don't think that I want Leo's dirty hands on you and he will surely want you if he sees you like this. My God, even I want you, and I never thought that I was a les. You are just so damned pretty. You are pretty enough to eat."