Clarissa’s Visit: The Birthday Party

[sissyboy1212]

PART 3

     Now that things were in motion, Mike’s mother fixed a steely gaze on her nervous son. He watched apprehensively as she reached into the back seat to grab something. “First things first though, Clarissa,” she began ominously, “your sneakers are covered in dirt as I expected, so I brought you a change of shoes and socks from home.” She handed him a pair of pink slip-on sneakers and some stretchy white ankle socks. He instantly recognized these items from Clarissa’s closet. He had worn them before. In theory, the low-top canvas shoes with the white rubber soles were gender-neutral, but their pastel pink color and slim design made them undeniably feminine. Making a slight face, he remembered belatedly his mother sometimes called them his “espadrilles.”

     Sitting nervously in the passenger seat and seeing no other option, he slowly removed his dirty athletic shoes and socks. Then he reluctantly pulled on the thin ankle socks. To his dismay, they had the kind of ribbed fold-down cuffs with a cute scalloped trim you would never see in boys’ socks. Once he slipped his feet into the pink sneakers, he tried to push his socks down as low as possible so the wavy cuffs were somewhat less obvious. When he sat back up, his mother had him place his dirty shoes and socks in a plastic grocery sack.

     “And let’s change that ratty tee shirt as well,” she said firmly. She again reached behind the seat and casually passed him another item. There was another uncomfortable pause as she waited impatiently for him to comply. This feeble trace of hesitance seemed to annoy her greatly. A moment later, Mike caved. He pulled off his red and black tee with the logo of the local high school sports team emblazoned on the front. Shirtless and chilly now from the air conditioning, he watched meekly as his favorite “Lions” tee shirt went in the grocery sack as well. His mother quickly knotted the ends of the sack tight and tossed it carelessly into the back seat. Mike saw that the pale pink polo shirt she gave him was also Clarissa’s. He was immediately self-conscious when he put it on. It was most definitely a girl’s style with its closely fitted cap sleeves and rounded Peter Pan collar.

     Relaxing slightly with the first signs of Clarissa’s reemergence now visible, his mother next reached into her purse while she continued to eye him intently. Mike sat on pins and needles as she extracted a handful of disposable moist towelettes. “Give me your hands dear,” she demanded, “I can see they’re positively filthy!” Embarrassed and blushing, Mike sat helplessly as his mother used the scented towelettes to thoroughly wipe his hands and nails clean. Then, to his horror, she pulled a bottle of pink nail polish from her purse as well!
 
     “A little nail polish will keep you in the right frame of mind until we can get you home and changed, Clarissa,” she informed him. When it came to matters concerning Clarissa, his mother was accustomed to having her way.

     Red-faced, the humiliated boy sat meekly in the running car while his mother meticulously painted his fingernails an adorable shade of bubblegum pink. As she expertly coated his nails with the shiny polish, Mike couldn’t help but glance through the windshield at his friends in the distance. They were still happily playing as Clarissa made her entrance. He cast his eyes back down to see the pink nail polish being carefully stroked onto his nails one by one. The contrast of his situation with that of his friends made him feel even more like a sissy. His throat tightened and he felt tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

     “There now,” his mother said proudly as she finished, “that looks so much better dear.” Then she asked, “Don’t you just adore the color?”

     After a painful pause, Mike said with forced enthusiasm, “Ohhh… yes Mother it’s such a pretty pink! I love it, thank you!” He knew well what he was supposed to say.

     She smiled and then cautioned him, “Be careful you don’t smudge them while they dry!” After that, things got even worse. He watched nervously as she reached once more into her purse. To his dismay, she produced a pair of white metal snap-on hair clips. Unable to use his hands, he sat powerlessly as she reached over and used a small hairbrush to bring his long bangs to the left side of his head. Then, she neatly snapped in the clips to hold his hair back in a simple but girlish style. “That will make your hair a little more presentable until I can give it the attention it really needs,” she concluded. He couldn’t see his hair in the mirror, but he had no doubt it looked very feminine.

     “Yes Mother,” Mike replied quietly in defeat. He looked down at his hands. His wet nails sparkled in the sun. The scent of the polish in the car lingered as they drove away. He was keenly aware of the hair clips tugging gently on the side of his head. The cap sleeves of his pink polo felt awkwardly snug. Silently fretting, Mike stared longingly out the window as the car passed his friends on the field. With little warning, Clarissa was back. Another chunk of his summer would be ruined now. He knew that by evening he would again be completely immersed in Clarissa’s feminine world of dresses and petticoats.

     Without even thinking about it, he silently mouthed the words to himself, “My name is Clarissa.” He drearily studied his gleaming pink nails and said under his breath, “I’m Clarissa.”

[sissyboy1212]

Thank you all for the comments and feedback. I especially appreciate the notes from the other authors who contribute their work.

I expect to post the next part tonight or tomorrow. Probably will be 7 or maybe 8 parts in all.

Hugs!

[sissyboy1212]

PART 4

   “Oh honey, we’re in luck! It’s still here!” Carol Bradley said excitedly to her chastened preteen. With a look of triumph, she eagerly pulled the object of her attention from a clothing rack in the secondhand shop. “I think this will work beautifully,” his mother said happily. “I’ll need to do some alterations, but it’ll be so cute on you when I’m done,” she continued. “Don’t you just love it?” she asked.

   Mike was already incredibly self-conscious and subdued. His pink sneakers, girls polo, painted nails and hair clips were having the intended effects on his attitude. Although they were the sort of things that might possibly go unnoticed by a casual observer, he was painfully aware of the girlish changes to his appearance. He felt like every movement called attention to his bubblegum pink nails, and he desperately wanted to sink through the shop’s floor. There were only a few other customers, but he was constantly turning his head away from them in an effort to hide his hair clips. He tried not to look down at his girly pink sneakers, and he knew the cute Peter Pan collar on his closely fitted polo was a sure giveaway to anyone paying attention. His only saving grace was that this shop was a bit of a drive from home in a nearby town. With a bit of luck (which admittedly had been terrible so far) no one he knew would recognize him.

   Now, however, he looked with fresh horror at the elaborately girly dress his mother had selected. He cringed as he knew that he would soon be wearing it. “Oh yes Mother… it’s so pretty,” he managed to croak softly as she handed him the pink monstrosity for him to carry.

   Dressed as he was, Mike itched to leave quickly. It was apparent, however, that his mother was not done shopping. He knew she loved secondhand stores, and she especially enjoyed finding pretty things for Clarissa. Soon, she found another cute dress she liked and held it up against his body to check the size. This one was made of white cotton fabric with delicate purple embroidery and trim. “Let’s see… this is a girls size 14, so it’s still a bit large for you,” she said thinking out loud. “It appears to run a little small though,” she decided, “so I can take it in for now and you’ll grow into it in no time!” It always stung him to be reminded of how slight and girlish his build still was even at the age of twelve. Smiling, she breezily handed him that dress to carry too. She was in full swing now.

   Next, she saw a brand new pair of yellow Mary Janes and insisted he try them on. They were near the rear of the store so he didn’t think anyone saw him, but his skin still crawled when he slipped them on. Unlike most of Clarissa’s other shoes, these had a slightly more pronounced low heel. They fit perfectly, but he felt so awkward in the unfamiliar heels.

   “You’re old enough now that it’s time you started getting used to heels, Clarissa,” his mother whispered to him. “And those should go perfectly with your yellow lace party dress!” she said with a pleased look. That lemon yellow dress had rapidly become one of his mother’s favorites, and Mike grimaced helplessly as Clarissa’s wardrobe expanded right before his eyes. He couldn’t imagine many things more effeminate than shopping for his own girls clothes with his mother. He again prayed he wouldn’t see anyone he knew.

   By the time they reached the checkout counter, Mike also carried a lavender skirt and a pink girls tee shirt in addition to the dresses and shoes. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, he hastily put everything on the counter and stood timidly beside his mother. As an older lady rang up all the purchases, she smiled down at the abashed young boy with the cute hair clips and pink polo. With growing curiosity, she had watched him shyly follow his mother around the girls section. Now that she had a better look at him, she also noticed the fussy ripple edge socks he wore with his pink shoes. “What pretty things, dear,” she noted in surprise, “are these all for you?”

   Mike blushed and didn’t know what to say. He thrust his hands in the pockets of his slim khaki shorts and prayed that she hadn’t noticed his nail polish.

   His mother chimed in, “Oh don't I wish!” she said mischievously, “How cute would that be?” Then she explained with a little smile, “But no these are just some things for his cousin Clarissa who is coming to visit us. She and Mike here are close in age and almost the same size so he’s… volunteered to help me.”

   “Well… of course that explains it… obviously,” the saleslady agreed after an awkward pause. She spoke to Mike then, “It’s so sweet that you’re willing to help your mother like this. Most boys would consider it out of the question.” She continued, “I wondered what was going on when I saw you trying on those darling shoes in the back.” Then, after another moment, she added half-jokingly, “But you strike me as a ‘fashion forward’ young man who’s not afraid to be different!”

   The lady then pointed to a shelf at the end of the counter, “You might like those socks over there though… they’re brand new in the package and very similar to the ones you’re wearing.” She added, “they come three pairs to the pack in different colors. I just got them and they won’t last long I’m sure!”

   As Mike reddened more, his mother interjected brightly, “why yes those do look nice!” She said to the sales lady, “We’ll take a pack of those as well… he goes through his socks like crazy!” Mike watched as the lady added a package to their growing pile of purchases. He saw that the packaging clearly labelled them as girls ankle socks, and he could see pink, purple and yellow through the clear plastic.

   The grinning sales lady then leaned forward in a conspiratorial tone and said, “I like your hair clips! You know, honey, it would be OK if you wanted to try on these pretty dresses too!”

   Horrified, Mike looked at his mother with pleading eyes. His heart fluttered in fear as he faced the prospect of trying on dresses when the saleslady already knew he was a boy. It was obvious that his mother considered it for a moment, but then, much to Mike’s relief, she said, “Oh thank you, but I’m sure these will be fine... for Clarissa. We have a busy afternoon and we need to get going.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he heard his mother say, “Maybe another time…”

   The lady looked slightly disappointed. She had clearly expected a different response, but she smiled anyway and finished ringing up all the purchases. Finishing, she chuckled and said to Mike in a friendly way, “Well dear you come back anytime, and on your next visit we’ll find some nice things for you!” Her eyes twinkled brightly in amusement. Then, to Mike’s great chagrin, she couldn’t help but add in a whisper, “I love your nails too!”

   At that, Mike's face turned a deep crimson. “Th.. thank you,” he managed to sputter. That removed any doubt that she knew he was a true sissy. She obviously suspected all along that these things were for him and had just been playing along with the pretense. He was incredibly grateful when they finally left the store with all their purchases and were back in the car.

   “Thank goodness they still had that dress, Clarissa!” his mother said happily as the car’s air conditioner blasted again. “You’ll look like a perfect little princess once I get the alterations done!”

   Mike squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. His thoughts were consumed now by all the sissy things soon to come his way. He couldn’t help but notice how his shiny pink nails flashed so brightly in the afternoon summer sun. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he felt intense regret at how thoughtless he had been with that party invitation!

   Meanwhile next to him, Mike’s mother happily envisioned how absolutely adorable he was going to look for the princess party. She thought she already had the perfect shoes for the outfit in Clarissa’s things back home. It would be a nice surprise since they were a recent purchase, and her blushing preteen hadn’t even had a chance to wear them yet. Relieved now to have secured the perfect dress, she began giving some thought to hairstyles. Her spirits were always buoyed when Clarissa was around. Notwithstanding Mike’s misbehavior, it was a treat for Clarissa to return so quickly after last month’s ballet recital.

   As she turned the car onto the highway, she spoke in a much firmer tone that made Mike’s stomach jump in awful anticipation. “But now, Clarissa,” she began purposefully, “it’s well past time that we got you properly dressed.” With an obvious touch of distaste she added, “in those clothes, people will think you’re a tomboy!” Expectantly, she asked, “We can’t have that now, can we dear?”

   “No Mother… of course not,” he said mousily. Mike suffered in silence as he dreaded the inevitable. Unfortunately for him, everything to this point had been merely an unhappy prelude. He knew things were about to get worse.

   “Definitely not,” he heard his mother echo under her breath, “I won’t have that.”

[jenniesissy]

What an absolutely wonderful story.  There is nothing more delightful than the combination of a strong, dominant mother combined with a weak, somewhat effeminate son.  Thank you - very much looking forward to more!

[sissyboy1212]

PART 5

   The next two hours sped by in a blur for the sissified lad, but oh what a difference a little time made! By mid-afternoon, a very discomfited Mike Bradley again exited the passenger seat of his mother’s car. Now, however, there was no visible clue of the boy who had played frisbee all morning with his friends. He looked nothing like a boy, or even a tomboy for that matter.

   Instead, he had been meticulously scrubbed clean and wore a natty navy blue skater-style dress with an embossed floral print. All his boys clothes were securely locked away in his room back at home which was now decidedly off limits. His summery dress had the cutest ruffled short sleeves and a skirt that flared out nicely at his knees. His mother had insisted on adding a lightweight tulle petticoat which only accentuated the bouncy skirt. Clarissa almost always wore petticoats with her outfits… much more often than other girls her age ever did. After all, as his mother reminded him from time to time, proper petticoat punishment requires a petticoat. It was right there in the name!

   Underneath his petticoat, the elaborately lacy trim of his pink and white satin panties grazed his thighs repeatedly. His mother had touched up his freshly painted fingernails and added a clear topcoat for protection. Buckled snugly on the feminized boy’s petite feet were a darling pair of white patent leather sandals. His mother had also thoughtfully painted his toenails to match his fingers, and the pretty pink nail polish looked absolutely precious with his strappy open-toe shoes. His hair clips were gone. Completing his look instead were two prominent white grosgrain ribbon hairbows fastened on either side of his head. The stiff bows had a slight sheen and drew his brunette hair back adorably. She had also used her flat iron just a tad to give it a little extra curl. He looked every bit like a prissy preteen girl who was ten or eleven at most.

   Cringing, he followed his mother into the department store located in a suburb on the other side of town. Mike reluctantly minced behind her to the cosmetics department where he felt positively surrounded by all the ultra-feminine products on every display shelf. It shocked him how rapidly his game of frisbee with friends had been overtaken by a sissy shopping spree with his mother. Despite his unease, his gestures and mannerisms were feminine and graceful out of repetition and habit. He was momentarily mesmerized when he passed one of the store’s many full-length mirrors and caught his reflection. To his dismay, he saw no trace of a boy staring back at him. From head to toe, all he saw was Clarissa. He involuntarily reached up and lightly brushed one of his pretty hairbows. It felt so stiff and crinkly to the touch.

   Watching him closely, his mother noted with appreciation that his recent ballet lessons seemed to have made an impact. The girlified boy moved even more fluidly and daintily than before. The way he swished his bouncy skirt to and fro without even thinking was just captivating. She had especially enjoyed doing up his hair in those adorable white hairbows. As her thoughts returned to his hair, she had an inspiration. “Yes,” she thought to herself with satisfaction, “I know what will be perfect for tomorrow.”

   With his mother’s guidance, Mike soon selected a girls starter makeup kit as a birthday present for Elizabeth. It contained a compact hand mirror, three different kinds of lip gloss, some subtly pale pink blush, a tube of scented hand cream, some makeup brushes and a few other odds and ends all in a cute pink zippered case.

   The attractive young sales clerk at the cosmetics counter smiled sweetly at him as they checked out. She appeared to be about twenty, and she had fair skin and long black hair . “Is this for you sweetie?” she asked. “It’s a nice starter set… all the products in it are very light and understated,” she added helpfully.

   “No… uhh..,” he replied squeakily, “it’s… uh… it’s a birthday present for my friend.” Mike was suddenly nervous for a new reason. Just recently, only in the past few weeks, he had started getting… excited… down there… at random times. He knew what was happening since he had learned about this in health class, but he was still terribly embarrassed by it. It all felt so unfamiliar and seemed to happen with no warning. To his horror, it was happening now as he stood in his cute dress and petticoat before the pretty girl. His mouth got dry and his heart beat faster. He was acutely aware of the uncomfortable tension in his panties, and his skin tingled.

   “Oh that’s lovely,” she remarked. She was looking at the makeup kit now and didn’t seem to detect his unease. She had just noticed something else amiss. “Hmmm… it seems the display price on these sets is wrong,” she explained, “they are actually on a clearance sale as a 2-for-1 special, so you can get one for yourself too at no extra cost!”

   Happily surprised, Carol smiled and said, “What good luck, dear! Isn’t that nice?”

   “Yes Mother, that’s wonderful,” Mike managed to choke out. In addition to everything else, now he would have his first little makeup case. He felt a little lightheaded and could feel his cheeks flushing. Exquisitely uncomfortable now, he stewed in his own thoughts. He carefully tried to adjust his skirt ever so slightly, but he found no relief for his discomfort.

   There was a long pause, and Mike realized his mother had been watching him swish his skirt again this whole time. Belatedly, it dawned on him that she was waiting for him to say something else. When he didn’t speak, she prodded him with a question, “Remember your manners. Now what do we say, dear?”

   Reddening more as he was corrected by his mother like a little child, he could feel the strain in his panties increasing. He shifted his feet nervously which caused his swishy petticoat to tickle his legs again. Finally, he managed to reply in a shaky voice, “Oh yes… Thank you ma’am. I can’t wait to try some of it on. It’s sooo cute!” he suddenly blurted. His nerves were on edge, and the words came out louder and more enthusiastically than he intended.

   “Oh please don’t call me ‘ma’am,’” she said nicely. “I’m Stephanie,” she continued, “and you’re more than welcome.” Then Stephanie asked, ”What’s your name sweetheart?”

   Extremely antsy now, Mike’s stomach fluttered as Stephanie spoke to him again. Catching his mother’s eye, he groaned inwardly as he knew what she wanted from him:  A proper introduction. The petticoated boy’s cheeks were very warm now. He replied softly, “I’m… I’m… Clarissa.” It was hard for him to think, and he felt a fresh surge of embarrassment as he said that name. Then, of course, he knew what he had to do next. Taking a jittery breath, he daintily grasped the hem of his flouncy skirt and dipped into a quick curtsey. His girlish movements only seemed to exacerbate his problem. He couldn’t avoid swishing his petticoat yet again, and he felt a fresh rush of the store’s cool air underneath his skirt. It all tickled him mercilessly.

   Stephanie let out a delighted little laugh as she marveled at the bashful girly-girl in front of her. With a pleased look, Mike’s mother explained, “Clarissa has been invited to her little friend’s princess birthday party. She needs to look her ‘Princess Best’ tomorrow!” She smiled lovingly at her thoroughly petticoated child. In her eyes, the sweet blushing just made him look that much cuter. Having Clarissa around always put an extra spring in her step.

   “Well aren’t you just the most precious thing in your cute little dress and those darling hairbows!” Stephanie said fawningly. “You certainly curtsey like a little princess, Clarissa,” she noted sweetly, “and now you’ll get to try some of your new makeup for the party!”

   Mike made his best attempt at an appreciative smile, but he felt unable to speak. The straining in his frilly panties was nearly unbearable now. His feet felt glued to the floor as Stephanie went on about how adorable he was. The skittish sissy grew weak in the knees as she continued to gush. For Mike, the next minute was excruciating as the full weight of his sissification crashed down on him.

   Finally and thankfully, Mike’s tension began to ease somewhat as Stephanie packed up the makeup kits. She insisted on putting them in two fancy white gift bags with pink tissue paper sticking jauntily from the top. Ironically, he found himself somewhat grateful that his petticoat and skirt had hidden his little problem from Stephanie. His anxiety spiked up one more time, however, when Stephanie patted him lightly on the shoulder as she handed him the bags. As she touched his shoulder, it felt like a small electric shock.

   Mike was crestfallen as he meekly departed the store close by his mother’s side. He was thoroughly embarrassed by the whole episode. This had happened a few other times, but never before while he was dressed as Clarissa! It was a humiliating experience, especially to have it happen right in front of such a pretty girl. He gingerly carried the two gift bags to the car as if they might bite him. Inevitably, his thoughts began to turn to what awaited him next. When they returned home, he knew he would be subjected to another of his mother’s dress fitting sessions. He sighed dejectedly as he remembered the dress he would have to wear tomorrow. He was also nervous about the unpleasant prospect of makeup. Most of all, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the phrase “Princess Best” out of his mind. His petticoat swished loudly, and he shuddered involuntarily as he felt a residual tingle under his bouncy skirt.

[sissyboy1212]

PART 6

   “Clarissa, please look in my craft chest and fetch me that roll of pink tulle,” Mike’s mother brightly directed him. She had her sewing machine set up in the corner of the den and was busy at work on his dress for the princess party.

   Mike sighed cheerlessly and stood up from the small chair where he had been perched sitting next to her. “Yes Mother, of course,” he replied obediently. Wasn’t it bad enough that he would have to wear that sickeningly sweet dress tomorrow? Now, he also had to be her little helper as she made all the alterations.

   Mike had spent the previous half hour wearing his lovely new dress in another of his mother’s extended fitting sessions. Repeatedly, he had stepped up and down from the low stool his mother always used while she fussily tugged, adjusted, fluffed and pinned it here and there. She frequently had him walk across the room or deliberately swish the skirt around to check her work. She was constantly observing “how it fell” as she sought to make it picture perfect. He detested these sessions. It was so humiliating to basically be turned into a living mannequin and model the girliest clothes he could imagine. At this point, however, he had long lost count of how many times he had done it.

   Today’s session had been especially miserable since his thoughts were still consumed by his unforgettable experience in the store with Stephanie earlier. Every so often, especially when he swished his skirt, he felt another unfamiliar tingle and desperately worried about it happening again. All these sensations were so new and confusing.

   Walking over to the craft chest, he passed in front of his mother’s large free-standing mirror. He couldn’t help but again gawk at his girlish reflection. When his mother had finally completed fitting his dress earlier, he had hoped to be allowed to wear a more casual outfit for the rest of the evening. It was bad enough Clarissa had returned, but he had at least thought he might change into a simple skirt and maybe even a girls tee shirt if he was lucky. Those hopes had been quickly dashed, however.

   Carol Bradley glanced up from her sewing. With satisfaction, she noted how girlishly her feminized son stepped across the den. She smiled when she saw him pause in front of the full-length mirror. “Those shoes really do make the outfit,” she said admiringly, “we were so lucky to find them!”

    Glumly, Mike studied his reflection. His mother had been so pleased when she came across these yellow Mary Janes. After his fitting session, she had insisted on getting out his lemon yellow party dress and putting him in it so she could see the entire outfit with the new shoes. The fancy white grosgrain hairbows were still fastened securely in his hair, and they appeared even larger and more sissyish than he remembered from earlier that afternoon. Next, he caught a flash of shiny pink color and winced. The painful memory of having his nails painted while watching his friends play in the park rushed back to him instantly.

   Looking at his dress, he flinched slightly as he studied the delicate floral pattern in the airy lace fabric. The darling ruffled neckline was so feminine, and his mother had tapered the waist significantly to highlight his slender build. In contrast, his billowy yellow skirt poofed out prominently due to the substantial white tulle petticoat he wore beneath it. The satin ribbon sash encircling his waist just made the dress all the more girlish. Under his petticoat, he wore a lovely pair of elaborately ruffled white tights. The snugness of his girlish tights only made the unwelcome tingles more frequent as they rubbed against the satin panties he was wearing. Completing the look, his charming new yellow Mary Janes paired adorably with the pristine white tights.

   “Oh yes, Mother,” he finally replied with little enthusiasm, “I just adore my new Mary Janes.”

   Mike reflected ruefully that the first time he had been put into this dress was the same day Mrs. Cranston had learned about Clarissa. With a shudder, he recalled the feeling of helplessly standing in this very room dressed as a prissy little girl while his secret shame was revealed to her. It was seared into his memory. His effeminate curtsey during that encounter had sealed his fate and led to his ballet lessons, and those lessons had resulted in meeting little Elizabeth. In turn, that introduction had led to the party invitation. He feared that no matter what, he would never be free of Clarissa now. She seemed to be inescapable. Reflexively, he silently mouthed the words again, “I’m Clarissa.”

   Suddenly catching himself, he quickly averted his eyes from the mirror. The sissified boy opened his mother’s craft chest and found the big roll of gauzy pink tulle right on top. The netted material felt so light and delicate to his touch.

   “Oh and please bring me that wide roll of pink satin ribbon also,” his mother called to him. She had a clear vision now of how she wanted this dress to look. It would be precious when she was done!

   Mike saw several different rolls of pink ribbon in the chest and grabbed the one nearest the top. His mother looked up again and corrected him immediately with a slight frown, “No not that one Clarissa… that’s fuchsia, not pink.” She continued, “I want the extra wide pastel pink one underneath it… next to that package of sequins.” When she saw he had the right roll now, she said, “yes that’s the one I need, dear, the heavier satin one.”

   Dutifully mincing back to his mother’s side with the additional ribbon and tulle for his dress, the feminized boy now dreaded wearing it even more.

   “See this bow here?” she said to him as she showed him part of the dress, “it’s nice enough, but it’s much too small and plain for a princess.” She continued merrily, “It will only take a few minutes to make a nicer one and switch it out!” She then pointed to a different area and said, “and you can see here that adding some more tulle will make all the difference in your overall look!” She held a length of the wispy fabric in her hand so he could visualize what she had planned and added, “it’s such a lovely little dress otherwise… I’m not sure why they skimped so on the tulle!” Then she reassured him, “but don’t you worry dear, I promise you will be beautiful in it tomorrow.”

   After a moment, she asked playfully, as if she had forgotten, “Don’t you want to look… now what was that phrase they used… your ‘Princess something…’ what was it again Clarissa?…” She shot him another look.

   “My… ‘Princess Best,’” Mike finally answered in a small voice. Then with a little more feigned eagerness, he said, “I am supposed to wear my ‘Princess Best’ for the party.” Next, after thinking about it, he tried to avoid any more trouble by adding, “Thank you so much Mother. It’s adorable and I can’t wait for Elizabeth to see it!” Thankfully this seemed to suffice for now.

   Smiling weakly, he watched his mother grab her scissors and enthusiastically resume her work. “Princess Best,” he thought unhappily to himself. As he gathered his skirt underneath him and retook his seat next to his mother, the ceaseless rustling of his petticoat sent another jolt through his panties. He sat on the edge of his seat with his feet and knees pressed girlishly together. Out of habit, he gently straightened and smoothed his skirt. Cautiously, he then folded his manicured hands and rested them very delicately on his lap. With a deepening sense of gloom, he watched his mother began expertly crafting a large and elaborate pink bow.

   “Posture dear,” she said as she glanced up. “Sit up nice and pretty like a princess,” she added with a little giggle.

   “Yes Mother,” he said obediently as he jerked up in his seat.

[Andlat]

It's a whole lot of fun going backwards through Clarissa's development! With all this emphasis on 'princess best', I have a feeling the birthday party might have some sort of award for the absolute best princess best and, given how much attention Clarissa's mom is giving the dress, she (hopefully) stands a good chance of winning! At the very least, I imagine Mike's probably more able to handle navigating princess petticoats than the average party guest.