Debt Collector by DaraJaney

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Debt Collector - Part 1

Username: DaraJaney, Dec/19/2005 19:15:33 [-04][new]



Frank knew this was going to be humiliating for his father. His gambling habit had landed him in debt to loan sharks to the tune of several thousand pounds. They had paid him a visit recently. He nursed his broken arm in a plaster cast. That was just a warning.



They waited for Frank’s Aunt Julia to arrive. They had not seen her in years. Julia and his father hadn’t spoken for most of that time. They had hated each other since childhood. Their father had a very old fashioned attitude to women and her childhood had been miserable while she and her mother waited hand and foot on the men in the house. Frank’s father had largely inherited that attitude but never had a daughter to torment. Still, he adored his son and encouraged his promising sporting talents.



Aunt Julia had done very well for herself despite her difficult childhood and owned a large company. She was quite rich and could easily spare a few thousand pounds to get her brother out of trouble.



She made them sweat and arrived late. When the situation was explained to her she did little to hide her smug satisfaction. She had her brother at her mercy. She took some time to think it over.



Obviously she was going to ask for something in return but Frank could never have guessed what. “I want Frank to come and live with me for the summer”, she told them. Frank didn’t know what to make of that. But then she added: “I want him to live with me as a girl.” They were all shocked. “I want to dress him and make him act like a girl.”



Julia explained that she had always wanted a daughter but couldn’t bring herself to have a relationship with a man since she had grown up with such a hatred of them. She reckoned it would do Frank some good to experience life as a girl since he had no sister and was getting such a traditionally male upbringing. But her real motivation was that she knew it would kill her brother to see his precious son dressed up like a girl.



It occurred to them that she must be joking but she insisted that this was the only deal she would do to help pay off the money. It wasn’t until she left, telling them to phone her later with their decision, that they had to accept that she was serious.



The last thing that Frank’s father wanted was for his son to be in anyway influenced by anything feminine but the pain from his broken arm inevitably overcame these concerns. Frank couldn’t believe the position he was being put in. If he didn’t agree to spend the summer as a girl, his father could be killed. He had no idea that his Aunt’s bitterness was so profound. They basically had no choice and later that night the call was made. Frank didn’t sleep very well that night.



The next morning Aunt Julia arrived carrying a large suitcase and accompanied by a friend who was a beautician. They brought Frank upstairs. He was close to tears.



A couple of hours later he stood before the mirror in his bedroom. All his body hair had been removed. The hair on his head was twisted into tight curls. His hands had been manicured and his nails varnished. A little make-up had been applied to make him look a little more feminine. The only remaining masculine thing about him was his boxer shorts – and they were about to go.



The suitcase was opened. It contained several dresses. Julia spread a few of them on the bed. “This will be your wardrobe for the next couple of months”, she told him as she began removing the dresses from the case. He looked miserable as he studied the pink gingham dress with lace petticoat ***ping from beneath the hem, the yellow high-waisted dress with white pinafore and the blue outfit with thick ruffles down the front.



“Which would you prefer?” Julia asked. As Frank studied them his will to live deserted him. He didn’t care really. They all looked equally girlish. Julia held up the pink dress. The petticoat made the skirts stand out at an angle. He quickly decided that there WAS a difference and reluctantly opted for the blue one which was marginally less sissyish.



“OK. Now where are the matching panties for that one?” she muttered as she rummaged through the suitcase. Frank felt sick as he saw all the panties, bras, slips, camisoles, stockings and tights packed into the suitcase – was he really going to have to wear these things all summer?



Julia found the panties and had his shorts whipped off him before he had a chance to reconsider. She handed him the panties and he stepped into them quickly rather than have his privates exposed to these two women.



It wasn’t until they were pulled up over his bottom that he noticed the three rows of white lace across the seat of the panties. He was now suddenly quite anxious to get the dress on to conceal the frillies. He pulled it over his head but was stopped before he could put his arms into the sleeves. The beautician held up a bra in front of him. He sighed but didn’t resist her slipping it over his arms. She fastened it behind him and Julia slipped some padding into the cups. Then they zipped him up.



He looked down beyond the ruffles and could see his knees clearly. He checked himself out in the mirror. The dress fell several inches short of his knees. He tugged at the hem to little effect. Julia handed him a pair of white socks. He took one, rolled it up and bent over to pull it over his left foot. As he did this he glanced back at the mirror to see that one row of lace on his panties could be seen. He stood upright immediately. The women sniggered. He sat on the side of the bed and pulled the sock up to his knee.



When both socks were on he was handed a pair of black t-bar shoes. He buckled them on and stood. He practiced walking in them. They had a higher heel than he was used to.



Julia packed the other dresses into the suitcase again and zipped it up. “Right, let’s show your parents what a sweet girl you are.” Frank thought of begging them to release him from this torment but realised that things had gone too far for that. With his hair in curls and his varnished nails, he might look even sillier in trousers. But the dress was way too childish for a sixteen year-old girl – and he wasn’t even a girl, he had to remind himself.

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Debt Collector - Part 2
Username: DaraJaney, Dec/19/2005 19:47:58 [-04][new]

They had to give him little nudges to make him go downstairs. He was dreading his parents’ reaction. But they seemed to be even more humiliated than him. They didn’t want to look at him but couldn’t help themselves. He looked so convincingly girlish.

Julia was amused the way Frank pressed his knees together and practically squirmed in the dress. He obviously felt very exposed. “Good”, she thought, “now he’s beginning to realise what’s it’s like to be a girl.” She made him turn around. Much to his horror she lifted the back of his dress to show off his panties. His father looked away.

“We’d better be off then”, said a bright and breezy Julia. She handed Frank his suitcase. This really brought it home to him that he was going to spend the next two months in nothing but dresses, skirts and all the frilly underwear in his case. The only material he would feel over his legs in that time would be nylon.

Tears came to his eyes as he clutched the suitcase. Julia savoured the moment, with Frank and both of his parents carefully studying the carpet. Then she opened the front door. Frank paused for a moment but knew the game was up. He walked out the door and for the first time felt the cool fresh air circulate around his panties. He didn’t look back as he sat in the back of the car, his knees pressed together and his hands tugging the hem of his dress down as far as it would go.

On arriving at Julia’s house he was despatched to his room. He was told to put his new clothes away in the wardrobe and chest of drawers. This way he saw every garment that he would be wearing over the next two months. He held up the white suspender belt with a pattern of pink hearts and innocently wondered what it was for.

At the bottom of the suitcase was his party dress. He froze when he first glimpsed the cerise puffed sleeves and the ruffled lace over the shoulder. He cleared away the other pairs of panties and stockings and lifted out the dress. The skirt stood out at quite an angle. He lifted the hem to reveal several layers of lace-trimmed organza petticoat. Then something else concerned him. He held it up against himself and looked in the mirror. It was even shorter than his blue dress. Julia walked in. “I know you can’t wait to wear it”, she said sarcastically, “but we’ll have to wait for a special occasion”.

She insisted that they had to go shopping for groceries. He braced himself as they walked down the road. It would be the first time he would encounter people while dressed as a girl. He realised that he was dressed so childishly that he would inevitably attract attention. He would have to try to act as a girl as best he could. It was going to be bad enough enduring the sneers for being dressed in such a sissy fashion but if people realised that he was a boy! It didn’t bear thinking about.

They wandered around the aisles of the store. He tried to ignore the stares and the sniggers. A gaggle of girls, barely in their teens and all wearing jeans and t-shirts, tittered and pointed at him. “Oh my gawd, look at her!” “Jeez, my little sister wouldn’t wear that!”

Half way down one aisle Julia told him to pull up his socks. He looked down and saw that they had indeed sagged a little. He bent over and pulled the left sock up. It was only when he straightened up again that he realised that he must have flashed his frilly panties. He looked behind and there were three boys at the end of the aisle bent over with laughter. He wondered how he was going to pull up his other sock without revealing his frillies again. He went down on one knee and pulled up the other sock, much to the boys’ disappointment.

The next day he was made to wear the yellow dress with the pinafore. There were, inevitably, matching panties which had a lace trim around the leg openings. Because the dress flared from a higher waist, he felt even more exposed and came down to breakfast clutching his skirts nervously.

After his breakfast, Julia handed him a skipping rope and told him to go out on the road and practice. He realised by now that he basically had to do whatever she said so he obediently went out the front door.

On the pavement he tried to skip. Of course, he had never done this before and was useless at it. He persisted, hoping that he would be able to learn the basics before anyone came along and saw him.

Eventually he was able to step over the rope a few times in a row. Then a man came down the road. He glared across at the skipping child as he passed and Frank realised that his panties must surely be showing as he skipped so he stopped and clutched the back of his dress.

After twenty minutes of this he wondered how long he would have to keep this up. Then a girl emerged from a house three doors down. She looked about eight but was dressed in a more grown-up fashion than Frank in a top and shorts. Her attention was immediately caught by this older “girl” in a dress that she wouldn’t be seen dead in. She came over and introduced herself as Angie.

Frank gave his name as Francis but undoubtedly it was understood to be Frances. She insisted on giving Frank skipping tips. He didn’t want to skip anymore because he knew the girl must be able to see his frilly panties. The little girl couldn’t help herself. “Why are you dressed like that?” she asked. Frank sighed. “My Aunt makes me wear these stupid clothes”, he told her. Angie nodded sympathetically. Sometimes her Mommy wanted her to wear stupid dresses when her Granny was coming. But she always refused. She wondered why this older girl couldn’t just say no.

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Debt Collector Part 3
Username: DaraJaney, Dec/21/2005 23:07:56 [-04][new]

So Frank spent a month in sissy dresses, almost becoming used to his predicament, before his parents came to visit. They didn’t want to see their son in sissy dresses but Julia insisted that they come and see how he was doing.

They were shown in to the lounge. A very red-faced Frank sat demurely in an armchair working on a piece of embroidery. It was the first time he’d had to wear the cerise party dress. The layers of petticoats rested on his lap above his white-stockinged knees. His curls dangled just above the puffed sleeves and were tied up with matching ribbons.

His cheeks appeared to get even redder. He put the embroidery on a table beside his chair. He rose from the seat hesitantly, trying to discretely push down the voluminous petticoats and very conscious of the gradually stretching suspender straps. It wasn’t until he stood up fully that his mother realised how short his dress was. Her gaze continued down his long legs and she realised that his heels must have been a good four-inches high.

“What have you been practicing for your parents?” Aunt Julia asked him. He glared at her momentarily and then took the hem of his skirt on either side between his thumb and forefinger. He lifted the edges of his skirts as he curtsied. His father turned towards the window and suddenly became more interested in the garden.

They were invited to sit. Frank shuffled about self-consciously rearranging his petticoats several times, desperately hoping that his pettipants weren’t showing. They were covered with rows of lace from top to bottom.

Julia made him show the embroidery he was working on. Then she drew their attention to a completed piece that was displayed on a shelf of the display cabinet. She told Frank to take it down and show them. He rose from the chair, straightened his petticoats and tottered across the room in his high heels. As he reached up for the embroidery his dress rode up and revealed the lace tops of his stockings. His mother also noticed the little pink hearts on his suspender belt but his father had looked away by then.

Julia later enquired how his father was getting on at Gamblers’ Anonymous. He just studied his knees and wrung his hands. It was obvious that he was not having any success at cutting out the gambling. Frank didn’t like the sound of that at all.

When his parents were leaving they walked them to their car. Frank had desperately hoped against hope for some reprieve and that he might get to go home with his parents. His mother turned towards him. He gave her a despairing look and was clearly close to tears. She could only give him a sympathetic look in return.

Even after a month, he had not become used to the short dresses, petticoats, frilly panties, stockings or his ringlets. He was consumed by it all from dawn to dusk. As the car sped away he knew he was in for another month of it. Part of the problem was that he didn’t know whether it was better to get used to it or not. The very idea that he might get used to this was revolting to him and he couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

Frank prayed for the end of the two months to come as quickly as possible but each day seemed like a year. He just couldn’t get used to wearing girl’s clothes. He would often pause when dressing and sigh, before ruefully, but expertly, attaching a suspender strap to his stocking, still unable to believe that this was happening.

At the end of the two months his parents visited again to bring him home. Frank was so relieved that this was going to be his last day in a dress. He wondered, though, how long it would take to straighten his hair out. It was a good bit longer now and had been pressed tightly into curls for so long.

However, when his parents arrived he couldn’t help but notice his father’s downcast look. It turned out that he had managed to work up even bigger debts. The loan shark, realising that he was being bank-rolled, let him work up five-figure debts. So they left without Frank and the poor boy stood there facing a longer sentence in sissy dresses.

He sat crying in the chair when Julia came back in, having seen his parents off. The beautician was with her and they were studying him carefully. It was enough to make him stop crying and wonder what they were planning.

About a week later they came in and woke him one morning. They had a new dress for him. This one was a peach colour and flared from ****** level. It only barely covered the matching panties and indeed the lowest row of lace ***ked out even if he stood perfectly straight. They also had little white ankle socks for him with three rows of peach trim on them.

He was sent out skipping and when Angie came out she immediately noticed his even more childish attire. She said nothing which made him feel even worse. It was even too embarrassing for an eight-year old to mention!

His parents visited at Christmas. By now he was completely resigned to being dressed as a little girl indefinitely. He was wearing a red woolly sweater, a pleated mini-kilt and white opaque tights. He had finally ceased to worry about showing his panties, it had become so normal and at one point when he turned suddenly his kilt swirled out revealing red panties pulled up over the tights. When they went out in the snow to church he wore a short fur-lined jacket, knitted hat and fur-trimmed boots.

The other locals still tittered at his childish outfits, especially girls of his own age and younger but it had ceased to become such a big deal.

By the time the next summer came around there was still no sign of a reprieve. In fact, his father was still getting deeper into debt but Julia didn’t mind too much since she relished the hold it gave her over Frank.

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Debt Collector - Part 4
Username: DaraJaney, Dec/21/2005 23:09:33 [-04][new]

One day the beautician visited again. Julia looked at Frank and smiled. “I think it’s about time we made him even younger.” Frank wondered how on earth they could do that – he was dressed like a four-year old.

A week later he was called up to his room. Julia had a large bag which he suspected contained new outfits for him. He eyed it gloomily. Julia pulled out a pair of huge pink frilly panties. There were little pink bows on either side, a big white heart in the centre at the front and a big pink bow in the centre at the back. His head dropped. But then he thought “those panties are way too big for me – they’ll never stay up”.

Twenty minutes later he appreciated why the panties were so big. They fitted quite snugly over his thick cotton nappy and plastic panties. He had started crying when they were putting him in the nappy and Julia have him a large pink soother to suc-k on which only upset him more.

Then a pink dress was produced from the bag. It had a pattern of nursery rhyme characters all over, a huge lace-trimmed collar and flared even more than his cerise party dress. When it was on him the huge skirts pushed his arms out at quite an angle. He looked in the mirror and saw that the dress was so short that most of the frilly panties could be clearly seen. It was obvious that they stretched over a thick nappy too.

He wondered if they would insist on bringing him out in this outfit because anyone who saw him would know instantly that he was in a nappy. But they weren’t finished. Julia placed a pink bonnet on his head. He could see the lace trim at the edges of the bonnet while she tied the ribbons under his chin in a bow. His ringlets dangled a few inches below the edge of his bonnet. Finally they put booties on his feet which, not surprisingly, had fluffy lace all around the tops.

Later, he sat on the sofa downstairs with growing pressure on his bladder. He was afraid to ask. He waited as long as he could. He removed the dummy and said “I need to use the bathroom”. Julia snorted. “What do you think the nappy is for?” His shoulders sagged at the confirmation of his worst fears. There was no point in arguing. He replaced the dummy in his mouth and waited. Within a few minutes a warmth spread around his groin area and then down around his bottom.

Julia glanced at him and saw the tears running down his face. “Are we done?” she asked coldly. He gave a barely perceptible nod. She stood and took his hand. He followed her. She walked much more quickly than he would have liked. He was concerned that his plastic pants wouldn’t hold it all in.

In the laundry room she had set up a changing table. He was made sit up on it and was told to pull up his dress. He didn’t have to pull it up far to clear his panties. Julia removed his booties and then his frilly panties. Then she took off his plastic panties and dropped them into a bucket. At this point the beautician came in and saw his soaked nappy. Her broad grin was unmistakable.

Julia cleaned him with baby wipes. She told him to turn over. He faced another table in the corner. There was a pile of at least a dozen nappies, plastic pants, at least two containers each of powders, creams and baby wipes. He realised when he saw this that they were planning to keep him in nappies for a long time.

When he turned back, tears were streaming down his face. He removed the dummy. “Please Aunt Julia!” She shushed him and pushed the dummy back in. “Now, now, babies don’t talk”, was all she said.

He lay back and looked at the ceiling. He suc-ked on the dummy a couple of times and considered it. Then he suc-ked some more. “Bottom up”, his Aunt instructed him. There was a moment’s hesitation but he obeyed. “That’s a good baba”, she said and smiled.

His parents came to visit a few weeks later. They were shown into the back garden. In the centre was a very large play pen with a very large baby sitting in a powder pink dress. They were behind Frank’s right shoulder but the bonnet blocked his peripheral vision. He clinked with a hammer, seemingly happily, on a tin xylophone positioned between his legs which were spread at quite an angle and were in pink tights.

He leaned forward to pick up a letter-brick and they saw the frills on his enormous matching panties. His mother sighed as she realised from the bulge that it wasn’t just a baby dress they had put him in. Then she saw the nappies fluttering on the washing line at the end of the garden and realised with a shock that they were obviously making him use his nappies.

She coughed and Frank turned his head suddenly. He looked up at them with a pink dummy in his mouth. He clearly had not been expecting them. He looked around the play pen, at the hammer in his hand and the xylophone and realised that they would have seen him act just like a real baby. Then he looked down at his nether regions and wondered if they had noticed his nappy.

He remained seated as his Aunt Julia gloated over how successfully she had reduced him to being such a sissy baby. He was terrified to move lest they see his nappy – even though he knew it was inevitable that they eventually would. Then the fluttering nappies caught his eye and he realised that they must know. He just hung his head in shame.

During his parents’ stay he was bottle-fed, spoon-fed in his high-chair and eventually changed after doing a particularly smelly poo. They couldn’t go until he was put into his cot for the night.

As his father headed for the door, he looked back at his son clutching the bars of his cot, in his short pink nightie, revealing his cloth nappy under the see-through plastic panties. Frank turned to look towards him and his sausage curls swung back and forth. He took a couple of suc-ks on his dummy. His father resolved to get that money paid off but almost immediately the realisation hit him that this was never going to happen – it was too much now.

Instead, he resolved never to come back and see his son like this again. They couldn’t make him. Frank recognised the look of despair in his father’s face. He knew now that there was no hope. A jet of warm *** soaked his nappy.

[misty]

Debt Collector - Part 5

Username: DaraJaney, Jan/6/2006 10:25:04 [-04]

One day he was sitting in his pen having just finished reading a fairytale book. He wanted to get another one off the shelf but was forbidden to leave the pen. He decided to chance it. He opened the catch at the side and tip toed across the room. As he reached up for the Little Red Riding Hood book he heard a cough behind him. He froze. Aunt Julia was looking crossly at him. But then she looked down at his frilly panties which were completely exposed as he reached upwards and she grinned. “What are you doing?”

She made him get back into the pen. “Where is your dummy?” she asked, looking around the room. He had hidden it under the blanket in his cot. It took her several minutes to find it. Instead of making him suc-k on it, she left the room but returned moments later with some pink ribbon which she ran through the ring on the dummy. She attached the ribbon to his dress with a safety pin. The dummy dangled on his chest. She took it and pushed it into his mouth. “There! Now you won’t keep losing it.” The next day he was sitting in the high-chair spoon-feeding himself some breakfast cereal. His Aunt Julia produced a pair of fingerless mittens, pulled them over his hands and fastened them at the wrist. “Now! That’ll stop you opening the catches on your pen or cot. We can’t have you wandering around.”

He examined the mittens. He realised he couldn’t pick up the spoon again. “I’m afraid we’ll have to spoon-feed you all the time now,” she said picking up the spoon. “You’ll be almost completely helpless.” He was just about able to hold his bottle between his hands and could pick up the larger play-blocks and dolls and cuddly toys but that was about it. “Next thing is, we have to find you a nanny,” she told him.

A few days later an eighteen-year old girl called Jenny was shown in to what was now a well-equipped nursery. Frank was sitting in his pen in a yellow frock with a white pinafore. “Oh isn’t he adorable?” Jenny enthused. His Aunt Julia gave her the full run-down.

“He has to use his nappies all the time,” she said.

“That’s alright,” Jenny said, “I’ve been used to changing my little brother.”

“Oh, how old is he?” Aunt Julia enquired.

“Well he’s four now so he’s out of nappies. Not like our little Frank here.”

“No,” Julia smirked, “you’d think by the age of sixteen he would be but we’re not in any hurry are we?”

“The mittens make him almost completely helpless so you’ll have to bottle and spoon-feed him everything. When you put him in his pen, cot or high-chair just make sure that the catches are closed and he’ll be held in securely.”

“He has his bottles at eight, noon, four and eight again just before he goes to bed. He nearly always wets himself during the night. He has a nap at 2pm or he gets cranky.”

Jenny laughed. “That’s no problem.” Frank eyed Jenny with concern. She was gorgeous. Her low cut t-shirt showed off ample ******s and she wore very tight jeans. In other circ-umstances he would be interested in trying to impress her but there was little chance of that while he was being kept as a baby girl. He wasn’t looking forward to her leaning over him changing his nappy. He felt sure he would not be able to contain himself.

Sure enough, the very first time that Jenny changed him he had an erection. She scolded him but there was nothing he could do about it and she was presented with the same show with each changing. The second day she was changing him in the morning before his mother left. When he inevitably had another erection, she called his mother in. He was mortified that his mother should witness this. “Right! Proceed as we agreed,” his mother said and left.

Jenny took his ***** in her hand and started massaging it. Frank was initially startled but this was soon overcome by intense pleasure. She wasted no time and within seconds he was coming. He was in such ecstasy he didn’t notice that she gathered most of the sperm in a little bottle. Frank was still lying back recovering when she removed his dummy. She inserted some metal frame into his mouth and forced his mouth open. The device clicked into place and held his mouth wide open. She held the bottle of sperm over his open mouth. He shook his head desperately but it was impossible to stop her emptying the contents into his mouth. The taste was horrific. He wretched and coughed but ultimately he had to swallow his own sperm. She removed the device and replaced it with his dummy. He was left with the disgusting taste in his mouth until his next bottle four hours later.

In the afternoon he needed changing again. Despite his every attempt to think of something else it was hopeless and soon he was spluttering on his sperm again. When his dummy was in again, he desperately wanted to plead that no matter how many times they did that, he was inevitably going to get an erection every time that Jenny changed him. But he was forbidden to speak.

The next day Jenny appeared in a halter-top mini dress. Frank started crying when he saw this. He knew he was in for another nasty day.

[misty]

Debt Collector - Part 6

Username: DaraJaney, Jan/6/2006 10:29:46 [-04]

Frank was thoroughly unhappy being kept as a baby girl, not surprisingly. One Saturday he was particularly depressed about his status. At lunchtime his Aunt told him that she thought he must be constipated or something and fed him a desert of stewed prunes. “You’ll have a bowlful of that with every meal now until you cheer up,” she told him.

Soon after, he produced a very messy and smelly nappy full. He tried to put on a more cheerful disposition. “That’s more like it,” she said. “Now if you’re a happy baby girl this afternoon you might just get a little reward.” She showed him a red lollipop and placed it on the tray in front of him. It was still in a plastic wrapper so he couldn’t have it unless she unwrapped it for him.

She put him in the pen and told him to play with his dolls. His diet had consisted almost entirely of warm milk and mushed vegetables for weeks now and the prospect of a lollipop was sufficient to make him pretend to be happily playing with his dolls all afternoon. He was duly rewarded and relished it.

She continued rewarding suitable little girl behaviour with sweets. But his frustration got the better of him on Sunday and he threw a brief tantrum with more pleading to be freed from his predicament. “Please! Please! Please Auntie. I can’t take this any longer.”

“Oh but you will just have to,” was her response and all he got out of it was another bowl of stewed prunes.

On Monday Jenny noticed his improved behaviour. When his Aunt returned in the evening she was given a glowing account of his day. He hadn’t grumbled once about his bottles or feeds and spent the day absorbed with his toys and picture books. He even avoided getting an erection when she changed him and was generally very co-operative. His Aunt gave him some Pavlova for desert.

The following Saturday morning his Aunt told him he was so good he could have an ice-cream of his choice. He bopped up and down excitedly like a real baby. She laughed. “Now we’ll have to put on your prettiest dress for the trip to the shops,” she said as she flicked through his dresses. He was shocked. She was going to take him out in public! He started to grumble about this. His Aunt grew cross. “Now don’t spoil it,” she warned. “You’ve been such a good baby girl. Anymore trouble and it’ll be stewed prunes for a week.”

Poor Frank didn’t know what to do. He desperately didn’t want to go out like this in public but he knew he was at her mercy and resistance was futile in the long term.

He just stood there and let her dress him in a peach taffeta dress that had three-inch lace trim around the neck, sleeves and hem. She put him in white tights before pulling up the matching bloomers that had three layers of the same lace down the legs, each trimmed with peach bows down the sides. Then she made him step into the four-layer organza petticoat and pulled it up under his dress. This dress came with a mop-cap style bonnet.

When she had buckled his t-bar shoes on, he thought he was done. But she produced a white leather harness, pulled it over his chest and arms and tightened it before buckling him in. He looked down at the thick strip of leather across his chest. It said “Baby Frank” in pastel multi-coloured letters. He looked up at his Aunt with an unmistakably pleading look on his face but she ignored it. He knew that any more dissent than that and it would be stewed prunes for him.

He wanted to cry as she brought him to the front door. His experience so far had been so humiliating but at least it had been all in private. How he was about to be paraded in front of the whole town and he had a fair idea what they would think about a sixteen year old boy in a nappy and frilly baby dress.

They weren’t gone a hundred yards when they met a lady. Her startled look was quickly replaced with a huge grin. “Who have we here, Julia?” she asked. Frank saw her scan his whole outfit from the bonnet down to his bloomers before her eyes fixed on the name on his harness. There was another startled look. “It’s a boy?!” Julia smiled proudly. “This is my nephew Frank.” He just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. The neighbour was bemused. She looked below his dress again. “Is he wearing a nappy?” Julia just nodded. Frank could do nothing but stand there suc-king on his dummy. “Why is he dressed like this? Is there a fancy dress party on somewhere?”

“No, Frank was unhappy as a boy and I discovered that he secretly liked frilly girly things so we decided to start him off again as a baby girl.” Frank looked at his Aunt in surprise. He couldn’t believe the lie she was telling but he knew he couldn’t contradict her so he just stood there and took it.

The neighbour looked at him expecting a denial of some sort and when it didn’t come she took it as confirmation of the truth. “My goodness!”

“We’d better move on”, his Aunt said to his relief. “I want to get to the shops and back before he wets himself, or worse.” Frank cringed. The neighbour was astonished again. “You mean he uses the nappies?!”

“Absolutely,” his Aunt confirmed, “he’s done everything in his nappies for a month or so now. He insists on being treated just like a real baby girl.” Frank was beside himself with frustration but knew that he would regret any dissent. “He spends his whole day in his play-pen and high-chair and sleeps in a cot. We have to spoon and bottle-feed him everything.” The neighbour stood there open-mouthed.

“Anyway we’d better get on,” his Aunt repeated and they finally did. But they met several others on their way. The bulge under his bloomers was so obvious that everyone asked immediately was he really wearing a nappy. Each person found a different thing most amusing – his bonnet or his bloomers or his tights. “I presume that’s a wig,” a woman asked on noticing his ringlets. “No, not at all, that’s his own hair.”

The shop was busy and a crowd gathered around the poor boy. His Aunt explained again to everyone that Frank wanted to be a baby girl and detailed to everyone exactly what that entailed.

When they finally got home, Julia asked if he was wet. Frank realised that his nappy felt wet and warm but he couldn’t remember when he had wet himself. But the unrefutable evidence was there. He had wet himself without even realising it. He started crying. His aunt was puzzled at this. “It’s alright, I’ll soon have you changed”. But she wondered why he was so upset at being wet – given that he should be so used to that by now.

Then she realised what it must be. “Did you wet yourself without realising it?” she asked. Frank nodded glumly, hoping that this development would make her realise just what she was doing to him. It became clear that she did. “Excellent,” she said and let the bawling Frank to his changing table.

[misty]

Debt Collector - Part 7 Username: DaraJaney, Jan/6/2006 10:31:45 [-04]



Julia obtained a large pushchair for Frank. Each day Jenny would strap him into it saying “now you’ll be safe as houses” and she pushed him around his Aunt’s large garden. The first sunny day Jenny decided to leave him on the patio to enjoy the sun. He became too warm under his several layers of petticoats and his tights. It wasn’t far from his nap time and he fell into a half-sleep. His soother teetered on the brink of falling out of his mouth several times but he instinctively suc-ked it back in each time. He awoke to find himself being pushed down the road outside their house. He was alarmed at another unexpected public exhibition. “Are you awake dear?” Jenny asked from behind the pushchair. He grunted through the dummy. “Sorry dear but I need to get something in the shops,” she told him. He groaned to indicate his displeasure at being taken out.



She stopped and came around in front of him. “I hope you’re not wet dear. I couldn’t stick my finger in to check because you have your tights on.” He realised that he was. He often wetted himself during his nap now. He nodded desperately. “Oh well, we’ll only be fifteen minutes. It won’t do you any harm,” she said. She started pushing him towards the shops again and he groaned.



As he was propelled along towards the crowded main street he looked down at the straps holding him in the pushchair. There was a simple snap-release that would free him but with his hands in mittens even that simple task was beyond him.



A lady met them. “Oh here’s our pretty little baby girl,” she said in mock baby talk, assuming this was what the sissy boy wanted. Jenny stopped to let her admire him. He would very much prefer if she didn’t. “Who’s a pretty-witty-ickle-baba,” she said and tweaked his nose. He jerked his head back from her in protest and she laughed.



“I’m afraid we’d better be getting along,” Jenny told her, much to Frank’s relief. “His nappy is wet and we don’t want him to get a nasty rash do we?” she continued and Frank winced. The lady laughed heartily at his discomfort.



Everyone they met wanted to engage them in conversation while taking in the spectacular sight of the sixteen-year old boy in a pretty baby dress and nappy. Jenny apologised to each one explaining his predicament. “Oh I hope there are no leaks,” one woman tittered. “No, his plastic panties are elasticated at the legs and are very good at holding everything in – even number twos,” Jenny explained helpfully as Frank squirmed in his nappy. His Aunt’s lollipop incentive scheme was very successful and Frank was soon behaving like a perfect baby girl from morning to night. He had to keep up the pretence even on his occasional excursions to the shops and seemed to be almost too convincing. “Aw, he seems to be so happy in his nappy”, one woman observed. He wanted to puke but kept up the fixed smile as she tickled him under the chin.



Eventually his mother came to visit again. His father steadfastly refused to see his son again. As far as he was concerned he no longer had a son. And in many ways he was right.



Frank had been gently reminded that good behaviour during his mother’s visit would be well rewarded. On the one hand he wanted her to realise how unhappy he was being kept as a baby girl. On the other hand he knew there was nothing she could do about it. No matter what he did he was stuck like this for the foreseeable future.



When his mother appeared he climbed to knees in the play-pen and smiled up at her from behind his dummy. “Give your Mummy a hug,” his Aunt told him. He stood up and put his arms around his mother.



Julia suggested that they go into the garden. His mother brought him by the hand through the patio door. A swing had been erected in the garden with a specially designed seat for Frank. His Aunt strapped him into the seat. “Now you won’t fall out,” she assured him as she tightened the straps.



She gave him a little push and he swayed back and forth no more than a few inches. That was all she ever did. “We don’t want you getting sick or wetting yourself from too much excitement,” she explained for his mother’s benefit.



His feet didn’t reach the ground and the seat was designed to prevent him from leaning back to start himself swinging so he had to sit there with his feet dangling frustratingly just an inch from the ground until someone pushed him again. This was about as exciting as his life got now. At the end of her visit his mother declared “he seems quite happy now.” Frank so wanted to scream, “of course I’m not!” but there was no point. “Sure he doesn’t have a care in the world,” Julia said. “His only concern is that he gets changed quickly enough before he gets nappy rash.” The women laughed.



His mother produced a camera and asked Julia to take photos of them together. They took photos of him in his swing, in his high-chair, in his pen, kneeling in his cot. His mother fussed over his dress and petticoats, anxious that they look their best for the photos. She arranged his sausage curls to show them off and fluffed out the lace trim on his socks. Julia asked if he should take his dummy out of his mouth for the shots but his mother preferred him with the dummy in. She stood beside Frank in the garden for more shots. He tried to push his petticoats down to hide his nappy and frilly panties but she slapped his hands away saying, “don’t do that.” She made him turn slightly so that the rows of lace on his panties could be seen. Julia knelt so as to take the shot from a nice upward angle.



When his mother was gone, Julia had the idea to have some photographs taken professionally. She had a special dress made for him. It was made of powder pink taffeta. The lace collar was so wide it rested on the big puffed sleeves. The hem of the dress was scalloped to reveal the lace trimmed organza 100-yard petticoat underneath. The pink lacey pettipants came to just above his knees. The white tights had a pattern of pink hearts.



His sausage curls were freshly pressed for the occasion and his bonnet had a huge crescent brim trimmed with lace of course.



The photographer did his best to hide his amusement at the assignment as Frank stood before him clutching his most expensive Victorian doll. Julia made him stand and sit at all angles fussing about his dress to get it just right. He knew better than to try to minimise the embarrassment by attempting to hide his nappy or frilly bloomers in any way. He just stood there and let them take the pictures whatever way they wanted. The result was that his nursery and the lounge were decorated with large blown up photographs of Baby Frank. He couldn’t look in any direction without seeing some reproduction of himself in that powder pink dress. In each and every photo his pettipants and nappy stand out prominently and his sausage curls dangle perfectly beneath his bonnet. There is nothing in any of the photos to give scale to his figure. He smiles in each one – just the picture of a perfect happy little baby girl.