� 
Recent Posts
1
Active Sissy Stories / Re: New Arrangements for Josh
« Last post by Andlat on Yesterday at 10:30:03 AM »
LOL. I think he's happy... he just doesn't realize it yet :)
They mean well! It's just a complicated transformation and it's all for the best. I'm certain he'll realize how much better off he is
2
Active Sissy Stories / Re: New Arrangements for Josh
« Last post by sissyboy1212 on May 07, 2024, 05:57:27 PM »
LOL. I think he's happy... he just doesn't realize it yet :)
3
Active Sissy Stories / Re: New Arrangements for Josh
« Last post by Andlat on May 07, 2024, 05:53:57 PM »
I know Josh is just nervous, but I hope he'll be suitably grateful and show it once he sees the final result. They're putting so much time and effort into his outfit and hair!
4
Active Sissy Stories / Re: New Arrangements for Josh
« Last post by sissyboy1212 on May 07, 2024, 05:14:20 PM »
PART 55
Miss Andrea skillfully twisted and pulled his hair as she methodically wrapped sections of it around her curling iron. Already warm with embarrassment, Josh could feel the additional heat from the curling iron near his scalp. With his back to the mirror, he could only imagine what he would look like when she finished. He nervously shifted a bit in his seat and felt his diaper crinkle unpleasantly in his velvet pants. He was not used to its extra bulk. He twisted again slightly and felt the tightness of his tightly laced corset. He was growing very restless and uncomfortable now while Miss Andrea curled his hair.
“Please sit still while I work, Josh,” Miss Andrea gently chided him, “this won’t take us long.” Then she recalled how she had buckled him in yesterday and said with a twinkle, “maybe I need to strap you back into my salon chair!”
Josh cringed to be reminded of that experience.
“You’re so fortunate you already have your darling perm!” Mrs. Smyth interjected. “Back in the day, boys had to sit still for long stretches of time while their mothers got their ringlets just right, but yours will be done in a jiffy thanks to Miss Andrea!” she continued.
She went on, “I find it fascinating that mothers commonly saw the Fauntleroy look as a reflection of their own social status… the fancier the better! In fact, it often became a competition among some of the most zealous mothers to outdo each other with their sons’ elaborate outfits. Thus, many boys were put into increasingly fancy ringlets and ever more adorable suits no matter how much they squirmed and protested!” She observed, “in many respects, the boys were often just swept along for the ride as their mothers tried to one-up each other.” She concluded with a stifled snort, “so, I suppose the idea of Fauntleroy suits being the sign of a ‘mama’s boy’ was more or less accurate.”
“How interesting!” Gwendolyn replied with a hint of a smile. Turning to her son, she said “now stop YOUR squirming, Joshy, so Miss Andrea can finish your ringlets.” Looking down, she frowned slightly and said, “do you need another reminder about your knees, dear?”
Josh immediately clasped his knees back together. Josh couldn’t help but think that he had sat still quite long enough yesterday in Miss Andrea’s salon to get his perm and highlights. He knew exactly how humiliated those “mama’s boys” of the past must have felt. Then, he reddened again as he recalled the shame of having a “little squirtie” in his panties while he got his hair permed yesterday.
Meanwhile, Gwendolyn reflected on Mrs. Smyth’s comments as well. She felt a warm surge of satisfaction, and she felt a kinship with those strong-willed mothers of days gone by. Smiling, she said to Josh, “I will be very proud to show off my ‘mama’s boy’ today, honey!” Beaming, she said, “We’re so lucky that Mrs. Smyth and Miss Andrea have pulled out all the stops for you!”
At this, Mrs. Smyth smiled broadly, and Miss Andrea chuckled. Josh, on the other hand, sighed softly and tried to sit very still with his knees together.
After a few more excruciating minutes, Miss Andrea announced, “I think that should do it.” Then she instructed him, “Close your eyes, honey.” Josh complied and immediately felt a blast of cool hairspray hitting his hair as she shielded his forehead with her other hand. She sprayed his hair very liberally, and Josh could smell the distinct odor of the hairspray as the can hissed. “This product I’m using has an extra-strong hold so we can really lock your ringlets in nicely, dear.” After it seemed that she emptied nearly the entire can on his curls, she told him he could open his eyes. She then used a hair dryer with a diffuser to dry his hair with gentle cool air. The overpowering smell of the hairspray lingered in his nostrils.
Then, she picked up another can and had him shut his eyes again. “This is a high shine finishing spray which I absolutely love,” she explained further. As she coated his hair again, she said, “this product is nice because it has some wax in it to produce a lustrous high shine and texture… it will really make your curls pop!”
Finally, she was done with the finishing wax spray. Lastly, she picked up the oversized pink velvet hairbow that had been awaiting him on the side table this whole time. “I suppose all we have left to do is your hairbow,” she announced with a grin. “Let’s get it on you, shall we?” she asked rhetorically.
Josh mustered a weak smile.
Miss Andrea skillfully twisted and pulled his hair as she methodically wrapped sections of it around her curling iron. Already warm with embarrassment, Josh could feel the additional heat from the curling iron near his scalp. With his back to the mirror, he could only imagine what he would look like when she finished. He nervously shifted a bit in his seat and felt his diaper crinkle unpleasantly in his velvet pants. He was not used to its extra bulk. He twisted again slightly and felt the tightness of his tightly laced corset. He was growing very restless and uncomfortable now while Miss Andrea curled his hair.
“Please sit still while I work, Josh,” Miss Andrea gently chided him, “this won’t take us long.” Then she recalled how she had buckled him in yesterday and said with a twinkle, “maybe I need to strap you back into my salon chair!”
Josh cringed to be reminded of that experience.
“You’re so fortunate you already have your darling perm!” Mrs. Smyth interjected. “Back in the day, boys had to sit still for long stretches of time while their mothers got their ringlets just right, but yours will be done in a jiffy thanks to Miss Andrea!” she continued.
She went on, “I find it fascinating that mothers commonly saw the Fauntleroy look as a reflection of their own social status… the fancier the better! In fact, it often became a competition among some of the most zealous mothers to outdo each other with their sons’ elaborate outfits. Thus, many boys were put into increasingly fancy ringlets and ever more adorable suits no matter how much they squirmed and protested!” She observed, “in many respects, the boys were often just swept along for the ride as their mothers tried to one-up each other.” She concluded with a stifled snort, “so, I suppose the idea of Fauntleroy suits being the sign of a ‘mama’s boy’ was more or less accurate.”
“How interesting!” Gwendolyn replied with a hint of a smile. Turning to her son, she said “now stop YOUR squirming, Joshy, so Miss Andrea can finish your ringlets.” Looking down, she frowned slightly and said, “do you need another reminder about your knees, dear?”
Josh immediately clasped his knees back together. Josh couldn’t help but think that he had sat still quite long enough yesterday in Miss Andrea’s salon to get his perm and highlights. He knew exactly how humiliated those “mama’s boys” of the past must have felt. Then, he reddened again as he recalled the shame of having a “little squirtie” in his panties while he got his hair permed yesterday.
Meanwhile, Gwendolyn reflected on Mrs. Smyth’s comments as well. She felt a warm surge of satisfaction, and she felt a kinship with those strong-willed mothers of days gone by. Smiling, she said to Josh, “I will be very proud to show off my ‘mama’s boy’ today, honey!” Beaming, she said, “We’re so lucky that Mrs. Smyth and Miss Andrea have pulled out all the stops for you!”
At this, Mrs. Smyth smiled broadly, and Miss Andrea chuckled. Josh, on the other hand, sighed softly and tried to sit very still with his knees together.
After a few more excruciating minutes, Miss Andrea announced, “I think that should do it.” Then she instructed him, “Close your eyes, honey.” Josh complied and immediately felt a blast of cool hairspray hitting his hair as she shielded his forehead with her other hand. She sprayed his hair very liberally, and Josh could smell the distinct odor of the hairspray as the can hissed. “This product I’m using has an extra-strong hold so we can really lock your ringlets in nicely, dear.” After it seemed that she emptied nearly the entire can on his curls, she told him he could open his eyes. She then used a hair dryer with a diffuser to dry his hair with gentle cool air. The overpowering smell of the hairspray lingered in his nostrils.
Then, she picked up another can and had him shut his eyes again. “This is a high shine finishing spray which I absolutely love,” she explained further. As she coated his hair again, she said, “this product is nice because it has some wax in it to produce a lustrous high shine and texture… it will really make your curls pop!”
Finally, she was done with the finishing wax spray. Lastly, she picked up the oversized pink velvet hairbow that had been awaiting him on the side table this whole time. “I suppose all we have left to do is your hairbow,” she announced with a grin. “Let’s get it on you, shall we?” she asked rhetorically.
Josh mustered a weak smile.
5
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Pink Panties
« Last post by billykins on May 07, 2024, 01:23:07 PM »
39.
Archie’s childhood had not been any harder than millions of other children. He barely remembered his father, who had left when he was very young. He had a loving mother in Myra, but she had struggled to provide for her children and he had spent more time with his sister than with her. And Myra herself had never been encouraged to show her feelings. She had a rather brusque way of expressing her love, by brief cuddles, or a ruffle of the hair, or a sudden kiss on the cheek. This may be preferable to the fawning, possessive behaviour which passes for love in some mothers, but it lacked that thoughtful enquiring tenderness that encourages a child to open its heart to a parent. Often she got home from work late and exhausted. Archie had often already been put to bed by Sinead. And it was Sinead who got him dressed, gave him breakfast, and packed him off to school. Luckier parents may criticise Myra despite the pressures she had been under. Those who have experienced those pressures may be a little more sympathetic. Sometimes when money is short there is little time for the luxury of a beautiful relationship…
Patrick was quite a lonely child. He was rather too sensitive and responsible for the boys he mixed with at school. It was a private school, to which he had been sent in the hope of preparing him for a job that would, in the family tradition, pay him a lot of money. But he wasn’t terribly interested in money. He liked unfashionable things, like music and poetry. And he liked to read old novels and watch films where virtue was rewarded and justice was done – though preferably without violence.
There was something in Archie’s face that had attracted him from the first time he saw him. He saw a thin mask of dissatisfaction, of not-happiness, but in his eyes a desperate honesty and a great capacity for love, if only he could connect with a sympathetic spirit. And he felt he could be that sympathetic spirit.
For Archie his conversation with Patrick was a new and life-changing experience. No-one had ever asked him about himself, about how he felt, what made him happy, what made him unhappy, or what he would like to achieve. It was as if his new friend had opened the doors of his heart, and all the things that he had stored up in there, all the lumber piled up to the ceiling, had come tumbling out at once. That in itself would have been sufficient liberation. But in the process, and because he was essentially an unselfish soul, Archie also came to understand the importance of reciprocation, and stemming the tide of his revelations, he began to ask Patrick about his life. And in that one afternoon, both lives were altered forever, and a friendship formed that would never be dissolved.
Archie didn’t get home till nine, and when he did, he found not only his sister, but Sarah and Patricia waiting for him. His eyes were sparkling as he came into the kitchen, where they were sitting.
“Hi, sis. Hi guys. What you doin’ here tonight?”
“Waiting for you, dumbbell,” said Sarah, rudely. “Where have you been?”
“Oh…well, we went ice-skating, then we got a pizza at the rink and sort of, you know, sat around…”
“And did you tell him?”
“Tell him?”
“That you’re a boy!”
“Oh…no…not exactly…”
“Not exactly?”
No, then. No, I didn’t tell ‘im.”
“Why not?”
“It don’t matter. I mean it doesn’t matter cos…he’s my friend. That’s what matters…”
“He’s right,” said Sinead. “That is what matters. Agreed, Pat?”
“Totally.”
“But they were holding hands!”
Archie stared at Sarah. “You were spying on us?”
“Oh. No, we just happened to see…”
“You were! What, all of you?”
The older girls looked guilty.
“We just wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all,” said Sinead, quietly. “You said yourself you didn’t know how he was going to react…”
Archie looked hurt for a moment. Then his face cleared.
“Yeah, I can understand that. Anyway, Patrick’s great. I’ve never met no-one like ‘im in my life. I don’t know ’ow long we can be friends, but I’m gonna stay bein’ a girl for the time bein’. But I can’t carry on wearin’ the same outfit, so tomorrow I’m goin’ out to get some new clothes. Could you help me, sis?”
Archie’s childhood had not been any harder than millions of other children. He barely remembered his father, who had left when he was very young. He had a loving mother in Myra, but she had struggled to provide for her children and he had spent more time with his sister than with her. And Myra herself had never been encouraged to show her feelings. She had a rather brusque way of expressing her love, by brief cuddles, or a ruffle of the hair, or a sudden kiss on the cheek. This may be preferable to the fawning, possessive behaviour which passes for love in some mothers, but it lacked that thoughtful enquiring tenderness that encourages a child to open its heart to a parent. Often she got home from work late and exhausted. Archie had often already been put to bed by Sinead. And it was Sinead who got him dressed, gave him breakfast, and packed him off to school. Luckier parents may criticise Myra despite the pressures she had been under. Those who have experienced those pressures may be a little more sympathetic. Sometimes when money is short there is little time for the luxury of a beautiful relationship…
Patrick was quite a lonely child. He was rather too sensitive and responsible for the boys he mixed with at school. It was a private school, to which he had been sent in the hope of preparing him for a job that would, in the family tradition, pay him a lot of money. But he wasn’t terribly interested in money. He liked unfashionable things, like music and poetry. And he liked to read old novels and watch films where virtue was rewarded and justice was done – though preferably without violence.
There was something in Archie’s face that had attracted him from the first time he saw him. He saw a thin mask of dissatisfaction, of not-happiness, but in his eyes a desperate honesty and a great capacity for love, if only he could connect with a sympathetic spirit. And he felt he could be that sympathetic spirit.
For Archie his conversation with Patrick was a new and life-changing experience. No-one had ever asked him about himself, about how he felt, what made him happy, what made him unhappy, or what he would like to achieve. It was as if his new friend had opened the doors of his heart, and all the things that he had stored up in there, all the lumber piled up to the ceiling, had come tumbling out at once. That in itself would have been sufficient liberation. But in the process, and because he was essentially an unselfish soul, Archie also came to understand the importance of reciprocation, and stemming the tide of his revelations, he began to ask Patrick about his life. And in that one afternoon, both lives were altered forever, and a friendship formed that would never be dissolved.
Archie didn’t get home till nine, and when he did, he found not only his sister, but Sarah and Patricia waiting for him. His eyes were sparkling as he came into the kitchen, where they were sitting.
“Hi, sis. Hi guys. What you doin’ here tonight?”
“Waiting for you, dumbbell,” said Sarah, rudely. “Where have you been?”
“Oh…well, we went ice-skating, then we got a pizza at the rink and sort of, you know, sat around…”
“And did you tell him?”
“Tell him?”
“That you’re a boy!”
“Oh…no…not exactly…”
“Not exactly?”
No, then. No, I didn’t tell ‘im.”
“Why not?”
“It don’t matter. I mean it doesn’t matter cos…he’s my friend. That’s what matters…”
“He’s right,” said Sinead. “That is what matters. Agreed, Pat?”
“Totally.”
“But they were holding hands!”
Archie stared at Sarah. “You were spying on us?”
“Oh. No, we just happened to see…”
“You were! What, all of you?”
The older girls looked guilty.
“We just wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all,” said Sinead, quietly. “You said yourself you didn’t know how he was going to react…”
Archie looked hurt for a moment. Then his face cleared.
“Yeah, I can understand that. Anyway, Patrick’s great. I’ve never met no-one like ‘im in my life. I don’t know ’ow long we can be friends, but I’m gonna stay bein’ a girl for the time bein’. But I can’t carry on wearin’ the same outfit, so tomorrow I’m goin’ out to get some new clothes. Could you help me, sis?”
6
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Pink Panties
« Last post by billykins on May 07, 2024, 01:15:25 PM »
38.
Sarah’s first elocution lesson consisted mainly in making him practise the “th” sound over and over, in sentences such as, “That thrush has the thinnest thighs in Southampton…” or “On Thursday I think I’ll wear my thong to the theatre…” It was an amusing, if not a totally successful exercise. But at least it made him more careful with his manner of speaking. It was in fact, the beginning of a transformation…
Patricia drove Archie to the park the next day. Sarah sat in the back, reassuring him.
“You look beautiful Archie – I mean Annabel. So when you break the news to him, he simply won’t be able to get angry with you – so don’t worry.”
“You do look amazing,” added Patricia. “Unless you tell him I’m pretty sure he won’t guess.”
They had gone to town, not only dressed him in the clothes, but found him a pair of silver clip-ons to match his necklace, made him up with peach lip gloss, a touch of blusher, a little pink glittery eye-shadow, and the tiniest bit of mascara. Sarah had donated a bottle of perfume she had been given on her last birthday.
“You can walk through the park knowing no-one will guess you’re a boy,” said Sarah. “So be confident. Take small steps, and take your time.”
“Yes – a lady should always be just a little bit late,” added Patricia, “so as not to seem forward or easy.”
“Okay, okay, you two. I’ll be fine. I ain’t – I mean… I’m not scared…”
Patricia dropped him off at the main gate, then drove up the hill and parked in the main car park. Sinead was waiting for them. There was no way she was being left out. Then the girls cut through the woods and came out on the higher side of the park. The café was on the far side, a single-story building surrounded by tables. They settled down on the grass. Sinead produced a miniature pair of binoculars. She handed them to Sarah.
“Have a look. Is that him on the left?”
“Yes…that’s him all right. And there’s Archie, crossing the park now. I wonder what’s going to happen…”
Archie could see him too. He looked cool and relaxed, which was not at all how he felt. His legs were wobbly, and the nearer he got the more he wished he had never agreed to meet. But there was no going back now. Patrick had spotted him, and was waving. He gave a little wave back. The next moment he was there. Patrick had stood up and pulled out a chair for him.
“Annabel…hi. I’m so glad you could make it… I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me…”
He seemed a lot less confident than he’d looked a moment ago.
“Hi Patrick. Nice of you to ask me, like…”
“No, not at all… You look amazing, by the way…” He was staring at him in a sort of daze. He seemed to have run out of things to say. Archie felt embarrassed. He also felt a fraud. Should he tell him straight away?
“Listen, Patrick…”
“Would you like a drink? And maybe a cake? Of course you would…”
“Sure… Anything…”
Anything to put off the fatal moment.
Patrick returned with two cans, straws and a plate of small cup-cakes. Despite their nervousness, they tucked in.
“What would you like to do today? We could go skating? Or whatever.”
“Can we just hang out here for a while?”
“Course! I’m not trying to be pushy…”
“I know you ain’t…aren’t.” He took a deep breath. Now was the time. Or was it?
“What do you…I mean, what school do you go to?”
“Oh, St. Mark’s. You may not know it. It’s out Onslow way. In fact I only happened to be on that bus because I was meeting a friend in town.”
“A friend?”
“Oh, just a guy I know from primary school. We were mates. Still are, sort of… But what about you? You do Irish dancing, right?”
“Yeah…yes. I only started a few weeks ago. It’s fun. It’s good exercise too.”
“I’d do it too, if I were a girl – I like those amazing dresses…”
“You don’t ‘ave to be a girl. Well, you wouldn’t get to wear a dress, of course…” He laughed. “Not unless you wanted to…”
“I wouldn’t mind. There’s too much regimentation these days. At my school… Well, that’s boring. But what I’m saying is, I think kids should be allowed to wear what they want.”
“I agree! Totally! It’s not like it was in Victorian times, right? Kids these days know a lot – more than their parents, ‘alf the time…”
“It’s true. Yet it’s the grown-ups that get to lay down the law about what children can do and what they can’t. When we grow up we’ll change all that. We’ll make the decisions about how we live our lives.”
“Yeah. And we’ll decide what they can do and what they can’t. Like when you’re over, I dunno, say forty… then no alcohol!”
“No television after nine at night!”
“No phone at the meal table!”
“No sex!”
They burst out laughing.
“They’re gonna suffer…” grinned Archie.
“Big time!”
“They seem to be getting on like a house on fire,” said Sarah, handing the binoculars to Patricia. “He can’t have told him yet…”
“I can’t believe it,” said Sinead. “I’ve never seen my brother actually hold a conversation with someone. With Conor it’s all grunts and monosyllables…”
“Look, they’re moving off,” hissed Patricia… Where are they going…? Damn – they’re coming this way. Quick, let’s get back in the woods…”
The three girls scrambled up the hill, ducked through the trees, and found a place they could watch the boys from unobserved. They were strolling across the park side by side, chatting happily. Patrick pointed up the hill, they walked up, found a flat place on the grass, and sat down. Sinead, Patricia and Sarah watched them for the next hour and a half, during which time all they did was sit and talk – talk incessantly. Once Patrick put his hand on Archie’s leg, once Archie took hold of Patrick’s arm. Sinead shook her head.
“Is that really our Archie? What has this bloke done to him?”
“This is boring – and I’m hungry,” said Sarah. “Can we…”
“Hold on. They’re moving,” interrupted Patricia.
The boys had got to their feet, and were walking quite swiftly towards the park gate.
“Quick! Back to the car,” said Patricia.
“No. Wait,” said Sinead. “Am I imagining things…?
Sarah gasped. “They’re…holding hands!”
All three of them stood staring for a moment. Then they bolted as one back to the car. But when they got back to the car park, they were just in time to see the two board a bus headed into town.
“Damn,” said Patricia.
“fuc-k,” said Sinead.
“I’m hungry,” whined Sarah.
Sarah’s first elocution lesson consisted mainly in making him practise the “th” sound over and over, in sentences such as, “That thrush has the thinnest thighs in Southampton…” or “On Thursday I think I’ll wear my thong to the theatre…” It was an amusing, if not a totally successful exercise. But at least it made him more careful with his manner of speaking. It was in fact, the beginning of a transformation…
Patricia drove Archie to the park the next day. Sarah sat in the back, reassuring him.
“You look beautiful Archie – I mean Annabel. So when you break the news to him, he simply won’t be able to get angry with you – so don’t worry.”
“You do look amazing,” added Patricia. “Unless you tell him I’m pretty sure he won’t guess.”
They had gone to town, not only dressed him in the clothes, but found him a pair of silver clip-ons to match his necklace, made him up with peach lip gloss, a touch of blusher, a little pink glittery eye-shadow, and the tiniest bit of mascara. Sarah had donated a bottle of perfume she had been given on her last birthday.
“You can walk through the park knowing no-one will guess you’re a boy,” said Sarah. “So be confident. Take small steps, and take your time.”
“Yes – a lady should always be just a little bit late,” added Patricia, “so as not to seem forward or easy.”
“Okay, okay, you two. I’ll be fine. I ain’t – I mean… I’m not scared…”
Patricia dropped him off at the main gate, then drove up the hill and parked in the main car park. Sinead was waiting for them. There was no way she was being left out. Then the girls cut through the woods and came out on the higher side of the park. The café was on the far side, a single-story building surrounded by tables. They settled down on the grass. Sinead produced a miniature pair of binoculars. She handed them to Sarah.
“Have a look. Is that him on the left?”
“Yes…that’s him all right. And there’s Archie, crossing the park now. I wonder what’s going to happen…”
Archie could see him too. He looked cool and relaxed, which was not at all how he felt. His legs were wobbly, and the nearer he got the more he wished he had never agreed to meet. But there was no going back now. Patrick had spotted him, and was waving. He gave a little wave back. The next moment he was there. Patrick had stood up and pulled out a chair for him.
“Annabel…hi. I’m so glad you could make it… I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me…”
He seemed a lot less confident than he’d looked a moment ago.
“Hi Patrick. Nice of you to ask me, like…”
“No, not at all… You look amazing, by the way…” He was staring at him in a sort of daze. He seemed to have run out of things to say. Archie felt embarrassed. He also felt a fraud. Should he tell him straight away?
“Listen, Patrick…”
“Would you like a drink? And maybe a cake? Of course you would…”
“Sure… Anything…”
Anything to put off the fatal moment.
Patrick returned with two cans, straws and a plate of small cup-cakes. Despite their nervousness, they tucked in.
“What would you like to do today? We could go skating? Or whatever.”
“Can we just hang out here for a while?”
“Course! I’m not trying to be pushy…”
“I know you ain’t…aren’t.” He took a deep breath. Now was the time. Or was it?
“What do you…I mean, what school do you go to?”
“Oh, St. Mark’s. You may not know it. It’s out Onslow way. In fact I only happened to be on that bus because I was meeting a friend in town.”
“A friend?”
“Oh, just a guy I know from primary school. We were mates. Still are, sort of… But what about you? You do Irish dancing, right?”
“Yeah…yes. I only started a few weeks ago. It’s fun. It’s good exercise too.”
“I’d do it too, if I were a girl – I like those amazing dresses…”
“You don’t ‘ave to be a girl. Well, you wouldn’t get to wear a dress, of course…” He laughed. “Not unless you wanted to…”
“I wouldn’t mind. There’s too much regimentation these days. At my school… Well, that’s boring. But what I’m saying is, I think kids should be allowed to wear what they want.”
“I agree! Totally! It’s not like it was in Victorian times, right? Kids these days know a lot – more than their parents, ‘alf the time…”
“It’s true. Yet it’s the grown-ups that get to lay down the law about what children can do and what they can’t. When we grow up we’ll change all that. We’ll make the decisions about how we live our lives.”
“Yeah. And we’ll decide what they can do and what they can’t. Like when you’re over, I dunno, say forty… then no alcohol!”
“No television after nine at night!”
“No phone at the meal table!”
“No sex!”
They burst out laughing.
“They’re gonna suffer…” grinned Archie.
“Big time!”
“They seem to be getting on like a house on fire,” said Sarah, handing the binoculars to Patricia. “He can’t have told him yet…”
“I can’t believe it,” said Sinead. “I’ve never seen my brother actually hold a conversation with someone. With Conor it’s all grunts and monosyllables…”
“Look, they’re moving off,” hissed Patricia… Where are they going…? Damn – they’re coming this way. Quick, let’s get back in the woods…”
The three girls scrambled up the hill, ducked through the trees, and found a place they could watch the boys from unobserved. They were strolling across the park side by side, chatting happily. Patrick pointed up the hill, they walked up, found a flat place on the grass, and sat down. Sinead, Patricia and Sarah watched them for the next hour and a half, during which time all they did was sit and talk – talk incessantly. Once Patrick put his hand on Archie’s leg, once Archie took hold of Patrick’s arm. Sinead shook her head.
“Is that really our Archie? What has this bloke done to him?”
“This is boring – and I’m hungry,” said Sarah. “Can we…”
“Hold on. They’re moving,” interrupted Patricia.
The boys had got to their feet, and were walking quite swiftly towards the park gate.
“Quick! Back to the car,” said Patricia.
“No. Wait,” said Sinead. “Am I imagining things…?
Sarah gasped. “They’re…holding hands!”
All three of them stood staring for a moment. Then they bolted as one back to the car. But when they got back to the car park, they were just in time to see the two board a bus headed into town.
“Damn,” said Patricia.
“fuc-k,” said Sinead.
“I’m hungry,” whined Sarah.
7
Active Sissy Stories / Re: New Arrangements for Josh
« Last post by Andlat on May 07, 2024, 12:06:24 AM »
Josh is in such good hands. Princess curls will surely complete that outfit and make him the center of attention
8
Active Sissy Stories / Re: New Arrangements for Josh
« Last post by sissyboy1212 on May 06, 2024, 01:51:30 PM »
PART 54
Miss Andrea quickly took charge. “I see Mrs. Smyth has gotten you all ready for me,” she said with a smile. “I’m so pleased with the way your very first perm and highlights turned out,” she said as she ran her skilled fingers through the effeminate teen’s curly locks. “It’s such a cute and trendy style for a pretty little girl today, but it’s a tad modern for Little Lord Fauntleroy,” she explained.
Josh cringed to be reminded so plainly in no uncertain terms that his new permanent hairstyle was unmistakably intended for a girl. The words “very first perm” lingered unpleasantly in his brain. They implied that there would be a second, third and perhaps many more other perms awaiting him in his increasingly girlish future. His thoughts raced as Miss Andrea spoke again.
Miss Andrea continued, “So Mrs. Smyth asked me if I could style your lovely curls into something a bit more period appropriate for the Tea.” Josh watched in awful anticipation as she plugged in a curling iron and placed it on the little table next to the hairbow. With a twinkle she added, “It’ll take us just a few minutes, but I think you’ll be thrilled with the result.” She spun the little stool around so now his back was to the mirror. As she lovingly caressed his beautiful curls, she asked him, “do you remember how I explained to you yesterday what a versatile hairstyle you have now?”
Stammering slightly, Josh answered, “Ye-Yes Miss Andrea, I remember that.” He was beginning to redden again. All the sensations and memories from his “day of beauty” under Miss Andrea’s care were now indelibly etched in his brain. From his “first perm” to his Baby Pink Sparkle nail polish, he vividly remembered every detail of the tidal wave of femininity that washed over him yesterday. He doubted he would ever forget how girlish it made him feel.
A moment later the curling iron was ready. Josh sat meekly as Miss Andrea took it and set to work on his hair. “Your new style just opens up so many adorable possibilities for you!” she said admiringly.
Now Mrs. Smyth spoke again as she watched Miss Andrea work her magic on the feminized teenager. “In Victorian times, many doting mothers also insisted on putting their sons in ringlet curls to go along with their Fauntleroy suits, and it became a hallmark of a proper Fauntleroy look.” She added a little mischievously, “of course the boys balked at getting their hair curled just as they did wearing the suits for those same ‘sissy’ connotations I mentioned earlier.” She continued, “fortunately for us, there’s no need for the discussion since you’ve already got the curls.” She concluded, “Miss Andrea is just going to tease them into some nice ringlets for you!” She smiled in satisfaction.
“Ringlets?” Josh asked hesitantly. “Isn’t that what I already have?” he asked hesitantly. The word “ringlet” just sounded so sissyish to him as he said it.
“Oh no honey,” Miss Andrea corrected him, “ringlet curls are a specific type of curls with a very particular look.” She continued, “your new perm will naturally fall into a very modern loose curl, but with this curling iron and some hairspray we will get you into some proper ringlets.” She explained further, “you might have also heard them called princess curls or corkscrew curls or even sausage curls, but they are a very distinctive and bouncy style that was popular back in the day.”
“Princess curls?” Josh asked dejectedly as his dwindling boyishness took another shot. His “boyish” look for today would obviously be nothing of the sort.
Miss Andrea giggled slightly and said teasingly, “well that’s one of the terms for them anyway, and you’re certainly as pretty as a princess!” Then Miss Andrea explained further. “Since we’ve already put your hair through some processes yesterday, I’m just using a lower heat setting to protect it.”
Josh’s thoughts continued to whirl. As Miss Andrea worked on him, he couldn’t get the term “princess curls” out of his head.
Gwendolyn was very pleased as she saw her son’s ringlets begin to appear. “Josh, I think you’re just going to adore your ‘princess curls,’” she couldn’t help but add. Almost without thinking, she put a little extra emphasis on the word “princess” to drive the point home.
The feminized teen cringed again as he felt his new “princess curls” taking shape. He dreaded seeing the final product, but he knew it would be over-the-top effeminate. Along with his continued emasculation, he was being forced to learn an entirely new vocabulary of things that other teenage boys never bothered with. Everything from petticoats, to gel manicures, to corsets... and now ringlets.
“Princess curls… Ringlets… Sausage curls…” he repeated the new terms silently to himself, “I’m getting princess curls.”
Miss Andrea quickly took charge. “I see Mrs. Smyth has gotten you all ready for me,” she said with a smile. “I’m so pleased with the way your very first perm and highlights turned out,” she said as she ran her skilled fingers through the effeminate teen’s curly locks. “It’s such a cute and trendy style for a pretty little girl today, but it’s a tad modern for Little Lord Fauntleroy,” she explained.
Josh cringed to be reminded so plainly in no uncertain terms that his new permanent hairstyle was unmistakably intended for a girl. The words “very first perm” lingered unpleasantly in his brain. They implied that there would be a second, third and perhaps many more other perms awaiting him in his increasingly girlish future. His thoughts raced as Miss Andrea spoke again.
Miss Andrea continued, “So Mrs. Smyth asked me if I could style your lovely curls into something a bit more period appropriate for the Tea.” Josh watched in awful anticipation as she plugged in a curling iron and placed it on the little table next to the hairbow. With a twinkle she added, “It’ll take us just a few minutes, but I think you’ll be thrilled with the result.” She spun the little stool around so now his back was to the mirror. As she lovingly caressed his beautiful curls, she asked him, “do you remember how I explained to you yesterday what a versatile hairstyle you have now?”
Stammering slightly, Josh answered, “Ye-Yes Miss Andrea, I remember that.” He was beginning to redden again. All the sensations and memories from his “day of beauty” under Miss Andrea’s care were now indelibly etched in his brain. From his “first perm” to his Baby Pink Sparkle nail polish, he vividly remembered every detail of the tidal wave of femininity that washed over him yesterday. He doubted he would ever forget how girlish it made him feel.
A moment later the curling iron was ready. Josh sat meekly as Miss Andrea took it and set to work on his hair. “Your new style just opens up so many adorable possibilities for you!” she said admiringly.
Now Mrs. Smyth spoke again as she watched Miss Andrea work her magic on the feminized teenager. “In Victorian times, many doting mothers also insisted on putting their sons in ringlet curls to go along with their Fauntleroy suits, and it became a hallmark of a proper Fauntleroy look.” She added a little mischievously, “of course the boys balked at getting their hair curled just as they did wearing the suits for those same ‘sissy’ connotations I mentioned earlier.” She continued, “fortunately for us, there’s no need for the discussion since you’ve already got the curls.” She concluded, “Miss Andrea is just going to tease them into some nice ringlets for you!” She smiled in satisfaction.
“Ringlets?” Josh asked hesitantly. “Isn’t that what I already have?” he asked hesitantly. The word “ringlet” just sounded so sissyish to him as he said it.
“Oh no honey,” Miss Andrea corrected him, “ringlet curls are a specific type of curls with a very particular look.” She continued, “your new perm will naturally fall into a very modern loose curl, but with this curling iron and some hairspray we will get you into some proper ringlets.” She explained further, “you might have also heard them called princess curls or corkscrew curls or even sausage curls, but they are a very distinctive and bouncy style that was popular back in the day.”
“Princess curls?” Josh asked dejectedly as his dwindling boyishness took another shot. His “boyish” look for today would obviously be nothing of the sort.
Miss Andrea giggled slightly and said teasingly, “well that’s one of the terms for them anyway, and you’re certainly as pretty as a princess!” Then Miss Andrea explained further. “Since we’ve already put your hair through some processes yesterday, I’m just using a lower heat setting to protect it.”
Josh’s thoughts continued to whirl. As Miss Andrea worked on him, he couldn’t get the term “princess curls” out of his head.
Gwendolyn was very pleased as she saw her son’s ringlets begin to appear. “Josh, I think you’re just going to adore your ‘princess curls,’” she couldn’t help but add. Almost without thinking, she put a little extra emphasis on the word “princess” to drive the point home.
The feminized teen cringed again as he felt his new “princess curls” taking shape. He dreaded seeing the final product, but he knew it would be over-the-top effeminate. Along with his continued emasculation, he was being forced to learn an entirely new vocabulary of things that other teenage boys never bothered with. Everything from petticoats, to gel manicures, to corsets... and now ringlets.
“Princess curls… Ringlets… Sausage curls…” he repeated the new terms silently to himself, “I’m getting princess curls.”
9
Active Sissy Stories / Re: New Arrangements for Josh
« Last post by sissyboy1212 on May 06, 2024, 01:43:37 PM »
Thank you for those lovely comments. In truth, I am just trying to write the story I want to read. I am very pleased to know that others enjoy it too. Thank you again. <Curtsy> :)
10
Active Sissy Stories / Re: My First Story Road to Regresion (Prostrate Problems)
« Last post by mommasboy on May 05, 2024, 11:38:23 AM »
It looks like this story has been abandoned, sadly
The more you give, the more I can give back.
Website, forum design, software, & security on this site is copyrighted. It was made personally by Betty Pearl, of Betty Pearl's Pubs, Sissy Stories, buffalobetties, pearlcorona. Betty's Pub is a non-profit organization & support group for the transgendered, & Fetware community. We don't sell anything, & we don't data mine your personal information & habits to sell like MOST other sites do. We respect your privacy & won't sell it out for a few bucks.
Site for: Sissy Stories, ABDL Stories, Sissy Art, Crossdressing, Transgender