A brief intro.
I've been a member here in the stories section for a while now, just one of the any silent ones. But I felt it was time I gave something back for all the wonderful stories I've read here. Though I must admit not all were to my taste, just as my submission is unlikely to match all your expectations, but I hope you'll bear with it.
Currently it is unfinished and unlikely to be in the near future and it's just 1 of 4 stories I'm working on at present. I find writing cathartic but also damned hard work, so I ask you to be patient.
Enough of the blather and on to the main event.
A Sissy is Born
By
Princess PowderPuff
1. INTRODUCTION
The child who emerged from the store with her mother was quite resplendent in her outfit though somewhat youthful in appearance for her size and possibly a little overdressed on this summer's day, considering she was wearing a fur trimmed bonnet with matching elbow length cape that was heavily embellished and complimented with a fur muff, her hands tucked away neatly inside. All dressed up and ready for a day's shopping with her mother.
The outfit she wore was more suited to a child of 3 years going to her first party rather than the 15 year old who was actually dressed in it. Yet at 3 years old any child would certainly have been traumatised for life if it had any awareness of how it looked, so it was understandable that this particular child was having a difficult time reconciling herself with her current appearance and circ-umstances.
Her dress had a very full skirt that was finger tip length, but it actually appeared much shorter with all her petticoats underneath. It had a high waistline which was deliberately raised higher at the back seam, and cut shorter in the hem which was also reflected in her petticoats, for the sole purpose of fully exploiting the deliciously frilly nature of her panties the lower extremities of which she couldn’t help but put out on display and the vastness of that display was truly eye catching.
Such decorative panties were never intended to be hidden away beneath any dress but were made to be seen and her mother wanted them be noticed by as many people as possible. The skirt of her dress was supported by layers of full and bouncy petticoats that fell in a deep mass of soft folds so closely coiled together they took on the appearance of bowl of frothy whipped cream. Just one large homogeneous flounce, which floated around her thighs like a nebulous cloud providing a beautiful backdrop to showcase her panties, which were densely frilled in a rainbow of colours in delicate pastel shades, They coordinated perfectly with the rest of the outfit but what caught the eye was that they looked far too large for the physique of the child wearing them yet they were clearly well fitting suggesting she was wearing something bulky within, perhaps a large preponderance of nappies, which would explain the child's awkward gait.
On her head she sported very trendy regency style bonnet, from beneath which a mop of tastefully arranged brandy snap curls tumbled out. Perfect if you were modelling for a Kate Greenaway illustration or auditioning for an extra in a dramatisation of a Jane Austin novel, but for a busy Saturday morning at the mall bustling with shoppers and fashion conscious teenagers, 19th century chic was a little overstated particularly when worn in conjunction with rest of the selected items that made up her outfit for the day.
No apparent attempt had been made by the child's mother to dress her charge so that she would blend into the background and go unnoticed, or even to dress her age, in fact quite the contrary. Every effort had been made to ensure she stood out, fastidiously dressed in a very eye catching outfit embellished with luxurious fur trim and accessories. Her whole appearance just screamed toddler all the way from the delightful baby harness she was fastened into, to the oversized pacifier that filled her mouth and her demonstration of an accomplished waddle as she was paraded around.
But given the shop from which she had just materialised with her mother it was not unexpected that shoppers would be greeted by the sight of such a youthfully dressed child. The shop proclaimed itself to be a medical supplies store but to those in the know it was "Sissy Central" so in all likelihood the girl leaving the store was actually a boy undergoing some form of behaviour modification or regression therapy revisiting his early years as a born again toddler which his mother was taking very seriously indeed. And everyone would see him for what he was, the embodiment of a perfect little sissy toddler out for a day's shopping with mommy looking resplendent in his pretty dress and accessories, completely feminised, and eagerly pulling against his Little Miss Muffet's Crèche baby harness in his impatience to be away to commence his day of intense humiliation.
"Give people a sissy and that's what they'll see and won't seek to look further." It was the perfect disguise and would arouse no suspicion about his actual reason for being so dressed. But it did little to allay the anxiety he felt about being taken out in public. “Don’t worry nobody is going to recognise you. There's nothing left of the boy to see.” He was struggling to hold his tears back when he realised he was taking comfort from his pacifier. He'd been suc-king on it involuntarily since it had been forced into his mouth early in his transformation. It stimulated his saliva and he gave it an unwilling suc-k every time he swallowed, but this was different, he was actually suc-king on it quite vigorously and had only just realised that it was visibly bobbing about his mouth from his reflection in the store window. He wouldn’t say he was glad of it but the ease at which he had slipped into the habit unnerved him, and he blushed furiously with shame at being caught and the prospect of being seen by others whilst dressed like this nursing on the hideous oral impediment as though he loved the whole toddler experience. Which would be difficult to deny given he was pulling against his harness in his excitement to be away and show off himself and his pretty outfit to the crowds of shoppers. It had taken substantial encouragement with a paddle against the backs of his legs to get him this enthusiastic about his impending self degradation.
So it was onto this environment at the mall that David made his debut in a beguiling mass of frills, flounces and fur in all his infantile glory. He announced his presence with a muted squeal of shock which he squeezed out from behind the mouth shield of his well fitted pacifier as he stumbled over the store threshold, which was lost from view beneath his full bouffant skirt, in a noisy and indecorous display of petticoats and the crackle of his rubber barrier panties before regaining his balance with his mother's assistance. "Steady there Tinkerbell," laughed his mother. "We don't want you falling at the starting gate. We have a lot of ground to cover yet. Now waddle on David there's a good boy. And what do you say when mommy says waddle on?"
"Ai oh i'er." He struggled to say.
"That's right Hi ho Silver. And remember David everybody will be watching so you'd better be on your bestest behaviour, understand? Otherwise I will put you over my knee and spank you in public with your favourite paddle like a naughty little boy!"
So accompanied by the sound of jingling of cat bells that were attached to his harness and hidden within the deep folds of his petticoats, he launched himself forward to humiliations unknown. He couldn’t refuse, couldn't even get his hands out of his muff and couldn’t remonstrate with his mother. He didn't pass GO, didn't collect £200 and was certain he was going directly to jail; his only choice was do as directed. So waddle he did.
Unable to see beneath the large umbrella like canopy of petticoats which hid everything below their horizon from view, he moved tentatively at first carefully placing one foot neatly in front of the other sensing the ground before him for fear of tripping over an unseen obstacle. But his mother's impatience soon began to show and she drove him on at the fastest waddle he could manage to display his enthusiasm. With an "mmmppphhh" of outrage at his mother's demand that he intersperse his waddle with hops skips and bunny jumps to add to his already considerable embarrassment she had him moving swiftly through the mall towards the exit and street beyond much to his consternation and the delight of the watching shoppers who were ever eager to photograph a sissy on their phones as he passed and to circulate the images amongst friends and social media accounts, whilst he tried not to fall arse over breakfast and make a bigger spectacle of himself than he was already achieving. "Where was it you were going to meet your friends darling?" Enquired his mother "Perhaps we should pass by just to let them know you won't be joining them since you've discovered that being a sissy is so much more fun." For the first time David was actually pleased his pacifier stopped him from speaking.
His state of humiliation and embarrassment sank to new levels hitherto unknown, he would have been happy for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He was ready to die of shame.
His mother was now the centre of his world which extended as far as he could go in any direction before his walker reins jerked him to a halt, which wasn’t very far at all. And for as long she held onto those she had complete control over him, but even if she let them fall his dependency on her wouldn’t change. He would follow her like an obedient puppy and do as he was told no matter how distasteful. That he understood completely. He looked enviously at the world beyond his small sphere as they passed through, but he was no longer part of that any more. His focus was now was to ensure his mother stayed happy with him and he gave her no reason to complain if he was to ever get home in one piece and out of this awful costume in spite of whatever humiliations would befall him and he was sure there would be plenty. He was a sissy she had told him and he was to behave as such. So he continued to hop, skip and jump, just like a sissy, down the exit ramp of the mall straight into the oncoming path of a familiar looking woman.
Topic: A Sissy is Born (Read 23785 times)
