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Author Topic: Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline  (Read 35880 times)

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Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline
« Reply #7 on: February 11, 2006, 08:22:38 PM »
Braids and Beyond--part15Braids and Beyond--part15
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/17/2005 19:44:44 [-04]

      While I stood in the corner, mom and the girls went up into the attic and
      soon returned with a pink plastic toy baby buggy that had belonged to
      Ellie when she was little. They placed my dolly in it. God, what did they
      have in mind, I wondered. I was taken from the corner and told to step out
      of my diaper and rhumba panties which were around my ankles. My white
      Maryjanes and lacy, yellow anklets were removed, leaving me totally naked
      and very erect. "Ellie, will you and Jessica thoroughly diaper the sissy
      boy?" mom asked. "Start with three Depends, followed by the cloth diaper
      and soaker that he squirted his "little girl creamies" into. Then the
      pink, clear plastic diaper panties and the pink rhumba diaper panties. I
      want him to be very leak proof." she directed. My fantasy of being
      diapered by Jessica was about to happen but I knew in my heart, this
      "fantasy" would really be a "nightmare". Ellie and Jessica joyfully set to
      work on diapering me. "Baby powder and diaper rash ointment too?" Ellie
      asked. "No," mom replied. There would be no relief for my spanking
      blistered behind. When my diapering was completed, mom told the girls,
      "Put his training bra on him and dress him in his pink, satin party dress
      and large pouffie petticoats, --Oh, and his pink, lacy anklets and pink
      Maryjanes." Mom added, "I want sissy Caroline to be very frilly and prissy
      for the rest of his punishment!" With that, Jessica came up behind me and
      fastened my training bra to me. She tweaked a pigtail and whispered in my
      ear, "You're such a pwetty, widdle thithy baby girl Caroline, I hope your
      mommy keeps you this way forever." Jessica then asked my mother, "Could I
      put some tissues in his bra cups to give him some pretty, little girl
      boobies?" Mom responded, "Great idea Jessica!" Ellie laughed, "Yeah,
      perfect Jessica." I stepped into my "mountainous" petticoats and my hated
      pink, satin party dress was placed on me and the sash was tied in the
      back. Mom replaced the yellow ribbon bows in my pigtails with pink ones to
      match my dress. She combed my bangs and "fluffed" my girlish pigtails.
      Ellie and Jessica touched up my makeup and reapplied pink lipstick and
      nail polish and sprayed perfume behind my ears and on my wrists. "Perfect,
      now our prissy little pansy is ready for the rest of his punishment." mom
      snickered. The toy baby buggy with my dolly was placed in front of me and
      I was told to grip the handle. Mom then took two pieces of pink yarn and
      tied my wrists to the handle, rendering me unable to remove my hands from
      the buggy. Mom then said to me, "Little girls, like you, love to play
      MOMMY and that's the rest of your punishment." She continued, "You will
      push your dolly in her baby buggy on the sidewalk up and down our block
      for a period of no less than one hour--more if you're not being a good
      little MOMMY." I started to cry. "When someone asks what you're doing, you
      are to lisp the following exact words and nothing more than these
      CARLOINE." Mom was adamant that I say those exact degrading words and made
      me repeat them back to her several times. "Failure to be a perfect little
      Mommy will result in another night in wet, poopy, stinky diapers. And that
      reminds me, if you have a need to use your diapers, stop in front of the
      house and ask the proper permission. The girls and I will be watching and
      video taping you from the porch. Understand Caroline?" I nodded, "Yeth
      mommy." Out the door and onto the sidewalk I waddled. This would be my
      first, actual, sissy outing in the neighborhood. If there was anyone who
      didn't know of my girlish punishment, they surely would know now. As I
      walked, once again, everything from my pigtails and ribbons on down,
      bounced and bobbed and swished and swayed. A slight breeze played with the
      back of my dress and petticoats and caused them to rustle loudly. With my
      hands tied to the buggy, I was helpless to control it. Car horns beeped
      from their gawking drivers as they passed by. Boys and girls from the
      block gazed in disbelief at the sight of me. Danny Henderson and Todd
      Mitchell, friends of mine, were the first to confront me. "Is that you
      Carl? What in the hell is going on? Why are you wearing a dress and
      pigtails and ribbons and pushing a baby buggy?" Todd asked incredulously.
      "I'm a thithy boy and I want, ever so much, to be a pwetty, widdle girl.
      My name is now Caroline so pwetty pwease call me thithy Caroline." I
      shamefully lisped. They choked with laughter. Sue Franklin, a bitchy girl
      from my class, came running up. "Is that you Carl?" she asked fondling a
      pigtail. I again recited my humiliating response. "Well, I always thought
      you were a faggot." she said as she lifted up the back of my dress and
      petticoats. I was helpless to stop her. "Oh my God, he's wearing diapers
      and rhumba panties under here!" she screamed. "Need a diaper change THITHY
      CAROLINE?" she teased. "You look so cute in pigtails and ribbons," she
      continued sarcastically, "I hope you're wearing them and dresses and
      skirts to school in the Fall!" More kids from the neighborhood approached,
      as I waddled with my baby buggy up and down the block. The back of my
      dress and petticoats was constantly lifted in the back to display my
      embarrassing diapers and rhumba panties. "ARE YOUR DIAPERS WET AND POOPY
      some of the taunts I had to endure. About a half hour into my ordeal, I
      realised I was going to need to use my diapers very soon. Now I would have
      to mess my diapers in front of the whole neighborhood. Fighting off the
      urge, I knew from experience, would be a losing battle. But I tried. I
      stopped in front of my house, with a crowd of tormentors, when I could
      hold it no longer. I called to the porch, "Mommy, may I pwetty, pwetty
      pwease wet and poop my diapers?" And I curtsied, sans hands. "Yes
      Caroline." mom called back. Everyone roared with laughter. They couldn't
      believe their ears. I noisily pooped a load into my diapers and thoroughly
      wet them. Through the uproar of laughter, I gave a broad smile, as mom
      expected, and cheerfully exclaimed "I did little girl wetties and poopies
      in my diapers!" as I curtsied. The kids couldn't believe what I had just
      said and done. I cried shamefully as they backed away from "stinky, little
      Miss Poopie Panties" as several called me. There's an old saying--"Every
      cloud has a silver lining." This was true in my case, except my "cloud"
      was a diaper and the lining was poopy, not "silver". You see, the stink of
      my diapers caused the kids to keep their distance from me and, at least,
      they couldn't lift my dress or play with my pigtails. Small consolation
      though. I still had to endure their taunts but at least, from a distance.
      My hour of hell was finally up and mom called me into the house. "I hope
      you've learned your lesson, young lady!" Oh God, I had learned it. "You
      may undress and shower Caroline and the girls will diaper you." I was, at
      least, grateful for a night in clean diapers.


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Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline
« Reply #8 on: February 11, 2006, 08:23:37 PM »
Braids and Beyond--part16Braids and Beyond--part16
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/18/2005 13:49:04 [-04]

      After showering, I returned to the living room blanket, grateful to have
      only spent a short time in messy diapers. Ellie and Jessica diapered me
      and, thankfully, used diaper rash ointment on my stinging bum. I was glad
      to be put back into the yellow sun dress outfit I had worn earlier, before
      my humiliating walk up and down our block. I hated, the most, wearing my
      pink satin party dress. Mom primped my hair, attached the matching yellow
      ribbons to my pigtails, and said to Ellie and Jessica, "Caroline and I are
      going out to do a little shopping for your birthday party this Saturday
      Ellie. You two can stay here, or whatever." I'd forgotten that Ellie
      turned seventeen this Saturday and was having a party with a dozen or so
      of her girlfriends at our house. "We're headed for "Toys-R-Us" for party
      supplies--decorations, favors, that sort of thing." mom said as we backed
      out the driveway. As we drove, mom said, "I'm sorry I had to punish you so
      harshly this afternoon, but you are to NEVER squirt your "little girly
      juice" without my permission. Understand, Caroline?" I nodded, "Yes
      mommy." I asked my mother, "Do I have to be at the party?" I so did not
      want to be there. "Of course, silly girl, you're gonna be mommy's little
      helper (and the main attraction at the party, mom thought to herself) and
      help run the party with me. It'll be fun!" As we drove on, I used the
      opportunity of being alone with my mother to ask her, "Jessica and some of
      the kids on the block made remarks about me and school this Fall. All this
      girly stuff will end when summer is over. Right?" She grinned and replied
      only, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Her answer and grin
      made me cringe. Pulling into the Toy-R-Us parking lot, I took some comfort
      in the thought that, at least, I wouldn't be wetting or pooping my diapers
      here. I had just done that on my walk up and down the block. Mom took my
      hand and in we went. I stayed close to her and tried to act very little
      girlishly, in the hope that I'd be less noticed and maybe thought of as a
      "real" little girl. I think it worked, somewhat. But I still got a fair
      share of looks and giggles. Mom picked up plastic party cups, plates,
      napkins, favors, decorations, a birthday card--that sort of stuff. Her
      last item surprised me though. It was a "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" game.
      That's an awfully childish game for teenaged girls, I thought. As we
      checked out, the cashier eyed me and giggled to my mom, "Boy, he must be
      in big trouble to be dressed like that!" Mom just nodded "yes" and we
      left. "One more stop, then home." mom said as we left the parking lot. She
      pulled into a video rental store nearby. "Gotta get a movie for the
      birthday party." mom said, as we walked in. She picked out some "Shirley
      Temple" movie. I wondered why on earth Ellie and her friends would want to
      watch THAT! I almost said something to my mother about it, but then
      thought that I didn't care what stupid movie the girls wanted to watch.
      "Actually, just one more quick stop before home Caroline." mom said as we
      left the video store. "We'll go through the "drive through" at Burger King
      and bring home some supper." I was glad it was the "drive through". One
      less public display for me. Back home, with supper done, Jessica excused
      herself to head home. She gently grasped my pigtails, kissed me on the
      forehead and whispered, "Try to stay dry, precious!" And out the door she
      went. If only she'd kissed me on the lips, I thought, instead of on the
      forehead like a little girl. But I was a little girl now, in pigtails and
      ribbons and dresses, and would never receive kisses from her like she'd
      give to a boy that she liked. Oh well, it was better than nothing, I
      thought. I watched TV for a while and, at ten o'clock, asked mom if I
      could go to bed. "Okay, Caroline. Just wash off your makeup, brush your
      teeth, set your hair in your rollers and put on your nitey." I started to
      crawl to my bedroom. "Oh, your diaper's not wet or anything--is it?" I
      looked back and said, "No mommy." She smiled, "Good, then you're set for
      the night. Oh, and remember, no NUMBER THREES!" With my tasks completed
      (rolling my hair took forever, as I hadn't had to wear rollers in a few
      days and was out of practice with them), I said good night and hit the
      hay. It took a while to drift off, given the horrid memories of the day
      and the pain from my "rollered" head, but, at least, I wasn't wet and
      poopy. I hoped I'd dream of Jessica lovingly diapering and dressing me as
      HER little girl.


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Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline
« Reply #9 on: February 11, 2006, 08:24:22 PM »
Braids and Beyond--part17Braids and Beyond--part17
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/20/2005 20:48:51 [-04]

      Friday morning, 9AM. I woke with a cold, wet, soggy feeling in the front
      of my diapers and a sticky, mushy feeling in the seat of them. The room
      smelled of poop. I realized I had messed my diapers in my sleep. What's
      become of me, I wet and pooped my diapers in my sleep, I thought. I
      started to sob. Moments later, mom knocked on the door and entered. The
      smell immediately told her what I had done. "Why so sad, sweetheart?" she
      asked, as she saw my tears. "Mommy, I wet and pooped in my sleep. I didn't
      even know I did it!" I cried. "Don't cry Caroline, that's what little baby
      girls do." she tried to comfort. "But I'm a thirteen year old BOY!" I
      responded. "Hush, Pumpkin. Crawl downstairs and get cleaned up and I'll
      have you in clean didees in no time." I crawled and cried, fearing I was
      losing control of my bodily functions. A half hour later, I found myself
      freshly diapered and pantied and seated in front of the vanity table
      mirror in my mom's room. "I'll do your hair and makeup for you today,
      Missy." she said. Removing my rollers, she added "We'll leave your hair
      loose today. (Great, I thought, no dangling appendages hanging from my
      head today!) You have an eleven o'clock appointment at my beauty parlor
      this morning to have your hair done for Ellie's birthday party tomorrow."
      How humiliating I thought and moaned, "Oh mommy, please no!" and I started
      to cry. "Oh stop it Caroline. Little girls love to get their hair done
      extra prettily for special occasions. You'll enjoy it and you'll get a
      professional manicure and pedicure too, you lucky little girl!" she
      chimed. "I want you to be extra pretty for tomorrow." she whispered into
      my ear. She simply brushed my loose hair and tied a huge lavender ribbon
      bow at the top in the back. She did my makeup and lipstick but nothing to
      my nails. Before dressing me, she inspected my entire body for hair growth
      and was pleased to discover none. "Still as smooth as a baby's bottom."
      she laughed. My lavender sun dress and petticoat was next, followed by
      matching anklets and my black patent leather Maryjanes. Into the kitchen
      for a quick breakfast we went, and then out the door to the car. I so did
      not want to go to the beauty parlor and sobbed all the way there. As we
      entered the beauty parlor, I was immediately struck by all the feminine
      smells of the place--hairspray, nail polish, perfume and a "rotten eggs"
      chemical smell that seemed familiar. I remembered the smell from when I
      was a very little boy watching my mother give Ellie a home permanent. Sure
      enough, in the corner salon chair sat a girl of about my age with a large
      pink, plastic cape covering almost her entire body. Head hung low, she was
      crying uncontrollably as the stylist tightly wound small, pink plastic,
      paper covered rods into her blond hair while another stylist squeezed
      pungent lotion onto them. As mom and I passed her, heading for the
      receptionist, she glanced up briefly through her tears, and seemed to
      recognize me. Just as quickly, she turned her head back down. She looked
      vaguely familiar to me but I really didn't recognize her, though. "This is
      my sissy son Caroline, he has an eleven o'clock hair and manicure/pedicure
      appointment." she told the receptionist. "Oh yes mam, we're expecting you.
      But I must say, we weren't expecting Caroline to be a BOY!" she replied.
      "Oh well, no matter, he surely isn't the first boy we've had here and he
      certainly won't be the last! With such beautiful, girlish hair, I can see
      why you have him in dresses." she added. She directed us to a styling
      chair in the center of the parlor. The customers, women and girls, giggled
      and pointed as we passed by. When I was seated, a gorgeous young woman,
      about twenty I'd guess, approached us and said to my mother, "I'll be
      styling your daughter's--oh, ah--son's--oh, ah---CAROLINE'S hair." I was
      crimson with embarrassment. "How would you like it to be done?" she asked.
      "I'd like it pulled back behind his ears, with a cascade of luxurious,
      soft, bouncy, full curls hanging down in the back to his neck. Please keep
      his bangs." she described. "Do you mean, like large sausage curls in
      back?" the stylist asked. "Yes, that would be perfect. He's going to his
      sister's birthday party tomorrow and I want him to look his little girlish
      best!" mom grinned. "No problem mam, he'll be as pretty as a picture when
      I'm done." she said as she draped a pink cape around me. Mom sat down to
      wait and watch. The young woman washed and conditioned my hair, towel
      dried and blow dried it, and then applied a generous amount of styling
      gel. As she started winding curlers into my hair, I decided to "break the
      ice" and speak to her. "Why is that girl (who was now under a hair dryer)
      getting the permanent crying so much?" I asked. Kind of a dumb question, I
      realized, as I'd be crying mightily if I were getting one, I thought. She
      laughed and replied, "You two have something in common. Like you sissy,
      she's no GIRL! She's a boy named Eric who was caught shop lifting at Kmart
      the week before last, and a sissy perm is his mother's form of punishment.
      When he leaves here, he'll be sporting a head full of blond ringlets and
      sausage curls. He'll look like Shirley Temple, from the head down at
      least." she giggled. It was then that it hit me. SHE was Eric Gardner, a
      boy in my grade at school. But I knew him best, actually, from church. He
      had been in church, with his mother, last Sunday when I had "debuted" my
      braids to the world. And his mother had spoken to my mother, in private,
      after the service. My thoughts were suddenly broken by the scolding voice
      of the hair stylist, "Better be an ever so good little girl, Pansy, or
      you'll be on the receiving end of a Shirley Temple permanent next visit!"
      Ten minutes later, with my curlers wound, I was seated under the hair
      dryer next to Eric. We didn't try to speak, but just exchanged sorrowful
      glances at each other. His perm was finished before I was done under the
      dryer and I watched as Mrs. Gardner held him by his hand and walked him to
      the door, with a waterfall of shameful tears pouring down his bright red
      face. His glistening ringlets and sausage curls bounced and bobbed as his
      mother dragged him into the street. He did look like Shirley Temple, if it
      weren't for his boy's clothes. "Misery loves company." I thought to
      myself. When my hair was dried, it was combed and styled and my lavender
      ribbon bow was tied to the top of my head in the back and I was off to
      have my manicure and pedicure. With that completed, I was glad to be on my
      way out of this haven of femininity. "He's adorable! Thank you so much."
      mom gushed, as she paid the receptionist and tipped the stylists. "Please
      come again soon, there's so much we could do with his lovely, girlish
      hair!" called the receptionist. I cringed at her words, fearing I could
      well be back here sometime. The customers laughed and jeered and applauded
      as my mother and her "pretty, girly boy" son left the beauty parlor. My
      sausage curls bounced and tickled the back of my neck as we walked to the
      car. At least, they weren't permanent, like Eric's, I thought. By the time
      we got home, Ellie was up and dressed and was making lunch. She couldn't
      believe how pretty my hair looked. "I can't wait until tomorrow, for my
      party, so everyone can see his pretty new hairdo!" she exclaimed. I
      certainly could wait! We ate lunch, as Ellie went on and on about how
      pretty I looked in curls. The rest of the day and night was fairly
      uneventful, thankfully. Mom and Ellie made preparations for tomorrow's
      party. After dinner, I needed a diaper change as I had wet myself (of
      course, after asking the proper permission). I watched a little television
      and at ten o'clock, I asked to go to bed. "Good idea, Caroline. You have a
      big day tomorrow!" mom grinned. I so hated that grin. I was already
      cleanly diapered and only needed to wash off my makeup and lipstick and
      brush my teeth. With that done, as I crawled toward my bedroom, mom
      called, "Stop sissy Caroline! Go into my room and sit in front of the
      mirror." Mom then rollered only my sausage curls and sprayed them lightly
      with hairspray. "We want them perfect for tomorrow, sweetie." And off to
      bed I crawled. I fell asleep wondering about Eric Gardner and Shirley


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Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline
« Reply #10 on: February 11, 2006, 08:25:07 PM »
Braids and Beyond--part18Braids and Beyond--part18
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/23/2005 23:14:02 [-04]

      Saturday morning, 10AM--party day. I woke up relieved that I had not
      "relieved" myself in my diapers over night. Mom knocked and entered my
      room, "Good for you sweet pea, you don't need your diapers changed." she
      said. During breakfast with mom and Ellie, mom outlined the many duties I
      would have as her "co-hostess" for Ellie's party. These included helping
      to serve food and drinks, entertainment, cleanup and being the "greeter"
      for the party. She detailed my job as "greeter". "When the doorbell rings,
      you are to answer it and say exactly, the following, with a big smile on
      IN and drop a deep, sissyish curtsy. Then bring the guests into the living
      room." I frowned, "Please no, mommy. I'll die." Mom replied, "You WON'T
      die and you WILL do it or you'll find yourself with a very red butt!" She
      told me to go sponge bathe myself thoroughly, since my diapers needn't be
      removed, and brush my teeth and report to her room for hair, makeup and
      dressing. Fifteen minutes later, in front of her mirror, she meticulously
      applied my makeup and lipstick. My nails needed nothing. She removed the
      curlers from the sausage curls hanging down my back and brushed and styled
      my hair until it looked just like it had yesterday when we left the beauty
      parlor. She lightly sprayed it with hairspray. She carefully fussed as she
      dressed me in my pink satin party dress, matching rhumba panties,
      petticoats, anklets and pink Maryjanes. Perfume and a gigantic pink ribbon
      bow in my hair completed the elaborate caricature of a sweet, prissy
      little girl. Guests were scheduled to arrive at 2PM. Mom set me to work in
      the kitchen, getting out and arranging food for the party; but not before
      putting a large, pink and white, lacy, frilly pinafore on me, tied in a
      huge bow at the back. "Mustn't mess your pretty dress, sweetie!" she
      grinned. After food and drinks were out, mom had me help her with a few
      last minute decorations. As two o'clock neared, I started to tear up over
      the extreme humiliation I was about to face at the hands of the party
      guests. At almost exactly two o'clock, the doorbell rang and I began my
      embarrassing "greeting" ritual. Every girl gasped at the sight of the
      sissy boy curtsying in front of them. They just couldn't believe that a
      thirteen year old boy could be so extremely "little girlish" or would
      allow himself to be so humiliatingly dressed. They laughed,
      uncontrollably, and fondled my clothing and under things and primped my
      hair and teased me mercilessly; as I escorted each arrival into the living
      room. They, of course, discovered my diapers and, invariably, asked if I
      needed a diaper change. With the last guest's arrival, "Happy Birthday"
      was sung to Ellie and presents were opened and mom and I began serving
      food and cake and drinks to the squealing girls, who took every
      opportunity to berate and embarrass me and to peek under my dress. When
      food and drinks were done and cleared away, mom announced that it was time
      for some "entertainment". I knew this involved me but hadn't a clue how.
      "Caroline dear, come stand in the center of the living room." mom said.
      "Put your left hand on your hip with your elbow sticking out and stick
      your right arm out with your hand pointing away from you." She adjusted my
      pose. "Please no mommy," I whaled and sobbed. "Would you prefer a nice,
      bare butt spanking instead?" she countered. I shook my head "no". With
      coaching and instruction from mom and all the giggling girls, I spent the
      next twenty or so minutes singing "I'm a little teapot, short and stout.
      Here is my handle, here is my spout..............." and did the "little
      teapot" dance as I sang. With that humiliating entertainment piece done,
      mom put the Shirley Temple movie she had rented the other day into the VCR
      and fast forwarded to the part where Shirley Temple sings and dances to
      "On the good ship, lollipop". As the video played, I was instructed, by
      mom, to pay close attention. After viewing and rewinding the part several
      times, I was set to the task of doing my own version of the song and
      dance, with eager guidance from mom and the girls. "On the good ship,
      lollipop...." I sang and danced to, for what seemed like an eternity. I
      finished each time with a broad smile and curtsy to Jessica's video camera
      which, of course, was taping all of the day's events. I wanted to die from
      embarrassment and finally, stomped my feet girlishly, and let my temper
      get the best of me. I shouted "Leave me alone you f--king b--ches!" This
      resulted in the bar of soap and a long, bare bottom spanking and corner
      time in front of the roomful of taunting girls. Certainly nothing more
      humiliating could be done to me, I thought as I did my "corner time".
      Naturally, I was wrong. As I stood, red and bare butted in the corner, I
      heard mom say "Let's play a game!" and she held a box up in front of the
      girls. "Oh geez mom, we're too old to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey!" I
      heard Ellie complain. "Of course you are, but I have a different version
      for all of you to play that I know you'll really enjoy!" mom replied. I
      knew I wouldn't enjoy it. "We're gonna play PIN THE TAIL ON THE SISSY!"
      she announced as the girls laughed and applauded. Mom refitted my thick
      diapers and rhumba panties around me and backed me away from the corner
      slightly. She bent me over and lifted my dress and petticoats up onto my
      back. "His diapers are the target girls." Each girl eagerly took her turn
      at being blind folded, spun around and aimed in the direction of my bum
      with a pinned donkey tail. For once, I was thankful for my heavy diapering
      which protected me from most pin pricks. With a few dozen donkey tails
      hanging from my bum, the winner was determined. A quiet, rather shy girl
      named Ashley had won. Mom announced the prize for the winner. "The winner
      gets to MILK THE SISSY!" I really didn't know what that meant but I knew I
      wouldn't like it. Ashley demured and declined the prize saying, "Jessica
      can do it." Jessica eagerly agreed. I was stood in the center of the
      living room and told to hold the front of my dress and petticoats up.
      Jessica then pulled the front of my diapers and rhumba panties down, just
      enough, to allow my erect "little girlie wiener" to protrude out. "God,
      he's got a little sausage to match his sausage curls!" I heard one girl
      exclaim. Jessica then masturbated me into a handful of tissues, as I
      moaned, and the girls all laughed. "Boy, he really likes being a little
      sissy baby girl!" I heard another girl say. I had had many fantasies
      involving Jessica playing with my sausage, but not like this. I cried
      shamefully. The night dragged on with unending humiliation. Just as I
      thought the end might be in sight, I realized, I might have one more
      horrific embarrassment left. I hadn't wet or pooped in about twenty four
      hours and needed to go badly. I started to do my "little girl needs to go
      potty dance" which Ellie and mom picked up on immediately. "Caroline," mom
      asked, "Do you need to ask permission to do something, little girl?" I
      hung my head, "Please mommy, please don't make me do it!" My words fell on
      deaf ears. I was again placed in the center of the living room with all
      the girls watching. When I could finally hold it no longer, I recited my
      miserable, degrading request to mess my diapers and, noisily, pushed out a
      huge stinky load of poo into my diaper bottom and then, thoroughly wet
      myself. I followed this up with my gleeful cheer about what I had just
      done. I had wet and pooped my diapers in front of two dozen cheering
      girls. I had finally got my wish to die and was now in hell, I thought.
      Mom added one final blow in front of the girls, "Wash off your makeup and
      lipstick and brush your teeth and undress. Put your nitey and baby bonnet
      on and insert your pacifier and return to say good night to everyone.
      You'll sleep in your messy diapers tonight, Little Miss Poopy Panties!" I
      did as I was told and returned ten minutes later, as the girls were
      leaving, to say good night. Nobody came near me as I smelled so bad. In
      bed, I cried, for what must have been hours, until I finally managed to
      fall asleep.


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Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline
« Reply #11 on: February 11, 2006, 08:25:56 PM »
Braids and Beyond--part19Braids and Beyond--part19
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/28/2005 19:41:35 [-04]

      It wasn't the sunshine peeking through from behind the window blinds that
      woke me at the crack of dawn Sunday morning; but rather, the discomfort of
      my soggy, poopy, stinky diapers. It was 6:30 AM and I now faced, probably,
      an hour and a half of lying in my stinky mess until mom came in --- plenty
      of time to suffer the embarrassment and humiliations of yesterday's party
      all over again in my mind. I did manage to drift back to sleep a few
      times, briefly; but it was still a long wait until mom knocked and came

      "It's gonna take a while to get you nice and sweet and pretty for church,
      Little Miss Poopy Panties." mom said as she entered my room, holding her
      nose. "Off to the shower, stinky." she said as she removed my bonnet. "And
      wash and condition your hair, we're gonna go back to braids for a while."

      Half an hour later, I crawled, squeaky clean, back upstairs to the blanket
      in the living room where mom heavily diapered me using, thankfully, baby
      powder and diaper rash ointment to soothe my stinging butt. She covered my
      diapers in frilly, blue lace rhumba panties and fastened my training bra
      in place. Then off to the mirror for braids and makeup.

      I blow dried my hair and when done, mom supervised me, as I did my own
      hair and makeup; making sure it was done perfectly. I hated braiding my
      own hair, partly because it was so hard to do; but mostly because it was
      just such an utterly "girlish" thing for a boy to be doing to himself. The
      same was true with the makeup and lipstick. Self-inflicted "feminization"
      was, somehow, even more abhorrent. It took me an hour to finish.

      Mom dressed me though. She padded my bra cups, slightly, with tissues and
      put my short, less full petti on me. Over this, a short, dark blue pleated
      skirt was placed. A crisply ironed, white blouse with a Peter Pan collar
      was buttoned and tucked in under the waist of my skirt. No anklets, for
      the first time; but instead, blue knee socks that matched my skirt. She
      tied a matching blue ribbon at each braid's end. My black, patent leather
      Maryjanes were strapped on. The finishing touch was a straw hat with a
      matching blue ribbon hanging down the back. I looked like a prissy, little
      nine year old girl on her way to school.

      At the breakfast table, Ellie said to mom, "You know, that outfit will be
      just right!" Mom replied, "Yes, it will be perfect!"

      "Will be just right and perfect" for what, I wondered. I dreaded to think
      more about it.

      On the ride to church, I wondered if Eric Gardner would be there with his
      mother. No sight of him as we walked down the aisle and chose a pew. I
      experienced a lot of muffled giggles and grins from the congregation but,
      this was church after all, so I was spared raucous humiliations. A minute
      later, Eric and his mom walked past us and sat in the pew right in front
      of us. From the neck down, Eric was "Eric". From the neck up, Eric was
      "Shirley Temple", an actress that I was now all too familiar with. His
      shiny, still glistening, blond sausage curls and ringlets now sported a
      large, perky pink ribbon bow on top. He was in absolute, abject misery, as
      his tears flooded down his face. As the pastor took to the pulpit, even he
      had to stifle a giggle as he eyed me and Eric. Eric cried through the
      entire service.

      After the service, there was a pot luck brunch in the church basement.
      Mrs. Gardner and Eric sat and ate with mom, Ellie and me. We caused a
      little more "raucous" commotion down there. I was more used to the taunts
      and jeers than Eric, and he just blubbered all the more.

      When things seemed to quiet down a little bit, I took the opportunity to
      talk to Eric. I knew why he had been "permed" but wondered about the
      large, pink ribbon bow in his curls. "Why the bow in your hair, Eric?" I
      asked. "I yelled at my mother and swore at her and she spanked me, bare
      bottom, soaped my mouth, and tied this silly bow in my hair! She called it
      an ADDITIONAL punishment. And more would follow if I don't behave." he

      Well, there was no doubt in my mind as to where Eric's mom had come up
      with the ideas for Eric's punishments. Probably no doubt in Eric's mind
      either, but neither of us spoke it. Eric and his mom finished their brunch
      and excused themselves. As they left, I wondered what Eric would look like
      the next time I saw him.

      As we were about to leave, Mrs. Tompkins, the church organist, promptly
      sat down next to mom for a private chat with her. Her son Dennis was my
      age and in my class at school. He too, was here at church but had avoided
      me. Dennis was a small, "rough and tumble" boy who was always getting into
      some kind of trouble in and out of school. He had long, straight hair;
      even slightly longer than mine. As mom and Mrs. Tompkins chatted on, I
      noticed Dennis watching them from a short distance away. He had a very
      contrite, forlorn look on his face. I couldn't help but wonder what Dennis
      might look like when next I saw him.

      As we left the church basement for home, a girl eyed me and my school girl
      outfit, and giggled and called, "What's the rush, honey. School doesn't
      start for another month and a half!"

      For the ride home, mom took a different route, one that passed by my
      school. As we drove past, mom and Ellie just grinned at each other and
      giggled slightly. I hated those grins. I thought to myself that I couldn't
      wait for the end of summer and the end of my "girlish" torture.


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Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline
« Reply #12 on: February 11, 2006, 08:27:14 PM »
Braids and Beyond--part20--the endBraids and Beyond--part20--the end
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/28/2005 20:41:02 [-04]

      The remainder of my summer was just like the beginning had been, a
      continuous series of humiliating, sissy scenarios designed to totally
      embarrass and degrade me. Endless poopy, wet diapers and frilly frocks and
      petticoats and ribbons and bows and satin and lace. I actually wondered,
      at one point, if I might succ-umb to all this sissy femininity and resign
      myself to the fact that I was now a little girl. But I didn't. I hated
      being a little girl and just had to hold on until the end of summer and
      the end of my "girlish" humiliations.

      As the final week of summer vacation mercifully arrived, I was actually
      pleased, one morning, when mother told me that she and Ellie and I were
      going to the Mall to shop for "back to school" clothes.

      For the occasion, I was dressed and diapered as sissy and frilly as
      possible. But I didn't care, the end was in sight. I didn't care about the
      taunting and teasing I received as I sashayed through the Mall because the
      end was in sight. I didn't even worry about messing my diapers because I
      had wet and pooped and had been changed earlier that morning.

      As we passed the Piercing Pagoda, I actually flipped up the back of my
      dress and petticoats and "mooned" the girl who had pierced my ears. Going
      past the dress boutique, Mrs. Brinkworth was standing in the entrance. I
      waved to her with one of my beribboned braids, curtsied and blew her a
      kiss. Mom and Ellie seemed to enjoy my antics.

      We headed for JCPenney, as mom figured they'd have the best selection of
      "back to school" clothes. At the entrance, mom sent Ellie off on her own
      to shop. She then looked down at me and "grinned" and took my hand. She
      promptly walked me to the "back to school" sales area in the GIRL'S

      "No, please no!!!!!!!" echoed loudly throughout the store.

      The End


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