Marlene and I both carried a shopping bag with our dresses in them and Mom carried a shopping bag with my two jumpers. Despite my enjoyment of trying on dresses in the shop and my acceptance of my sissy status, I was still very self conscious dressed as I was in public. We, or should I say “I”, received more than our fair share of stares, smirking smiles and comments on my sissy. “What a cute little sissy,” one woman commented to her daughter who looked at me with dumbfounded curiosity as I blushed crimson in response. Mom just looked down at me with a smile of pleased satisfaction at my flustered state.
At last we reached the safety of the car and, after depositing our shopping bags in the trunk, departed for home. Once there, Mom had us hang our dresses up in our closets; for me that meant alongside Diane’s dresses in her closet. After that, Mom deposited me in the playpen and went next door to retrieve Diane from Mrs. Eppersley’s.
When she returned, Mom placed Diane in the playpen with me and checked us both to see if our diapers were wet. Diane was dry but, to my surprise, I was wet. I was surprised because I hadn’t remembered wetting myself. It must have happened in the excitement of trying on all those dresses at Mary Beth’s. Still, I was shocked that I hadn’t noticed wetting myself. Mom took me upstairs to get changed. She gave me a pair of pink plastic pants to hold to my chest as usual while she removed my diaper and cleaned me up.
“I’m glad you enjoyed your little trip to Mary Beth’s,” she said as she began to apply the diaper rash ointment and the baby lotion, “This Sunday you’ll get to wear your pretty new dress to church and show everybody what a good little sissy baby you really are,” she smiled down at me. A tear trickled from the corner of my eye as I realized that my humiliated state was going to be on full display again. “You may as well enjoy your little diapers,” she smiled as she began to pin my fresh diaper into place, “You’re going to become quite used to them before too long, I’m sure,” she laughed as she took the pink plastic pants from my chest, slipped my legs through the legholes and began pulling them snugly into place. After checking that my diaper was tucked in at the back of my plastic pants, she proceeded to pull the romper bottom between my legs and snap it in place. “There you go,” she said as she helped me down from the changing table and patted my well padded bottom, “Mommy’s little baby is all nice and dry again. Now, let’s go downstairs and you can help me get supper started,” she smiled as she turned to lead the way. I followed along somewhat reluctantly, glancing at myself in the hallway mirror as I passed it. I was the personification of a little sissy; clearly too old for the diapers and rompers that I wore not to mention the shoes, socks and hairdo.
I helped Mom with supper and was fed, as usual, after Diane was done. Then it was the playpen for the rest of the evening mimicking Diane as usual. I fell asleep after a bit and only hazily remember Mom carrying me up to the changing table and changing me and giving me a bottle of formula which I nursed on for a few minutes before falling asleep.
Saturday morning I woke up to the sensation of wet diapers. My bottle was still near at hand and, as it appeared Mom was going to sleep in this morning, I proceeded to nurse on the bottle of cold formula until it was empty. After that, I curled up under the baby blanket and fell back asleep until Mom came in to change us. After breakfast was done and Diane was in her playpen and Marlene was off to the Eppersley’s to play with Andrea, I helped Mom with the laundry and cleaning. It felt funny to be out in the summer sun with my rompers on and the wind gently caressing my bare legs and arms as I hung up the laundry and later took it down and folded it. In between, I helped Mom vacuum and dust the house. I was becoming quite the little Momma’s girl helping around the house. I was not an unwilling participant as I had no desire to be seen outside the house in my babyish apparel. The rest of the day went pretty much as usual with the exception that Mom insisted I pick out the plastic pants for my nightly diaper change before bed. I chose the yellow pair with very little hesitation and realized that I was becoming more used to my diapered state than I had realized. “Maybe that’s what Mom wanted me to realize,” I thought to myself as I curled up under the baby blanket nursing on my bottle of formula. I drifted off to dreams of playpens and visits to Mary Beth’s shop and Carrie’s Cut and Curl shop.
I awoke sleepily Sunday morning to the feeling of my Mom’s finger checking my diaper under the waistband of my plastic pants. “Nice and wet, just like a good little baby,” she smiled down at me as I sleepily nursed on my pacifier. She changed Diane first and took her downstairs and put her in her high chair and had Marlene start to feed her breakfast. Then she returned to the nursery for me. She had me changed and into a pair of white crystalline plastic pants in hardly any time at all. Then it was my turn in the high chair with Marlene feeding me breakfast while Mom got Diane ready for church. When I was done, Marlene was sent off to get ready for church while Mom took me to the nursery and got my crinoline, dress, bonnet, shoes, socks and panties out. It seemed like she had me dressed in no time at all. “There you go,” she smiled as she snugged the bonnet into place and tied a big bow beneath my chin, “my little baby’s all ready for church.”
I made sure I had my pacifier in place. I was going to need all the anonymity I could muster for this little excursion. Once again, I felt like a prisoner in my pretty white dress as Mom led us out the front door for the two block walk to church. Mom had the stroller for Diane while Marlene and I walked together hand-in-hand in front of them. We got there a little early and Mom sat with us in a pew about mid way up the side aisle. People kept coming in. I heard a few comments around me like “There’s baby Janet. I didn’t expect to see her here. Isn’t she cute in her pretty dress?” and “Isn’t that baby Janet we saw in Mary Beth’s shop yesterday, Mom?” from another little girl nearby. One woman made a point of stopping next to my Mom and saying “What pretty girls you have and especially little Janet here,” with a broad, knowing smile. Each comment made me nurse more furtively on my pacifier and tears started to trickle from the corners of my eyes. There was nothing I could do about my sissified state, however. If I made a scene, I would only call more attention to myself and my sissified condition. So, I sat there helplessly enduring my fate; enveloped in the sensations of silky girls clothes and the scent of baby powder and baby lotion. I noticed a woman I had seen in Mary Beth’s shop on Friday looking over at me with a knowing smile. She waved and playfully blew me a kiss.
After church, Mom spent some time talking to her lady friends as she usually did. Several of them wanted to know who I was and she introduced me as her “little Janet”. If they didn’t suspect that I was a sissy in baby clothes, they must surely have known then. They all found it quite amusing. Mom told them how helpful I was and all the chores that I now so willingly helped her with. One or two of them said that, since babying was working so well with me, it might be a good “cure” for their boys who were a little on the rowdy side and a lot less than helpful around the house. It wasn’t too long before we left and walked quietly back home. The rest of the day went peaceably but my adventures in dresses were only just beginning. Mom made sure that I wore my pretty white dress to church every Sunday. She even got me another pale blue organza dress a few months later. I spent most of the summer in my rompers and blouses and was surprised when I found out Mom had found a lady who was willing to home school Marlene and me. Mom explained that Marlene would be there to change my diapers as needed. So, for the next seven years, until I was fourteen, I was home schooled. After that, I was in the local public high school for four years. However, by the time I entered high school, I was pretty much incontinent and it took almost a year of wearing disposable diapers and plastic pants to school before I was potty trained enough to attend without them. I still needed diapers and plastic pants at night and do to this day. I can’t really say it’s something I don’t like but it is certainly something I’ve gotten used to.
~ THE END ~
I hope you’ve enjoyed this story. As Kris Kristofferson said of Johnny Cash: “He’s a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction”. The same is true of this story.
I’d appreciate any comments you might have to make. An author can always use encouragement and advice. Thank you to the 600 to some 1000 faithful readers who have been consistent readers of this story.
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Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: Sissy Baby (Read 118068 times)
