Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: BetBots on February 11, 2006, 06:51:44 PM
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The Braid-y Bunch
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/1/2005 08:08:09 [-04][new]
Note to readers--This story is the sequel to "Braids and Beyond" and picks up where that left off. It is assumed that the reader has read that story first.
Here's the story of three lovely ladies,
Who were bringing up three very lovely boys.
All of them had nice long hair, like their mother's
The youngest one in curls.
It was 7:40 AM and I was standing alone at the bus stop, waiting to be picked up for my first day back to school. A chilly breeze danced underneath the, not too full, short petticoat that flared out my equally short, red plaid pleated skirt. My long, white knee socks, ending in my black patent leather Maryjanes, did afford me some protection from the chill. I wore a crisply ironed and starched white blouse with a Peter Pan collar and the training bra, underneath, had tissues stuffed in the cups to give me a modest bit of cleavage. With my left arm, I girlishly held my school notebook up against my bosom. In my right hand, I held my purse. My braids were precisely done and each had a red plaid bow at the end to match my skirt. My face was lightly made up and my pink lipstick matched my nails perfectly. Gold heart earrings adorned my pieced ears. On the back of my head, I wore a straw hat with a red plaid band around it which ended in long ribbons hanging down the back. I was a perfect little eight year old school girl, with two exceptions.
First, I was heavily diapered, with plastic diaper panties covering them. Covering those were red plaid matching bloomers with ruffles edging the leg openings. The ruffles ***ked out slightly underneath my skirt and petticoat.
Second, I wasn't an eight year old little girl. I was a thirteen year old boy in the eighth grade on my way to Junior High.
As the bus pulled up, a tear trickled down my cheek. When the bus door cranked open, I very hesitantly climbed aboard. A stunned look of awe and disbelief from the driver greeted me, which was followed by a giggle. "Good morning, Honey!" she said. "Take a seat in the very back please."
As I started down the aisle, a brief hush came over the noisy crowd of students. The hush was broken by an unseen voice. "Is that you, Carl?"
"Of course it's him, dummy, but his name's Caroline now!" came another unseen reply.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part2
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/1/2005 07:38:50 [-04][new]
As I reached the back of the bus, the two little girls separated, creating a space for me to sit between them. I carefully sat down on my butt, allowing my petticoats and skirt to encircle me. They were too short to smooth under me. I looked to the girl in the "Shirley Temple" perm and said, "Hi, Eric." He forlornly replied, "Hi Caroline, but I'm supposed to be called Erica now." Looking to the other side, I said, "Hi Dennis." It was no surprise when he responded with, "It's Denise now."
Well, misery loves company. At least I wasn't the only one who would suffer the humiliation of attending school as a little school girl. Our mothers, certainly (and no surprise to me), had gotten together to plan all of this.
Both Erica and Denise were dressed and petticoated similarly to me, except Erica's pleated skirt was tan and Denise's pleated skirt was navy blue. Both were equally short like mine. They sported little "buds" underneath their white blouses like mine and matching knee socks and purses and makeup and pink lipstick and nails and earrings in their pierced ear lobes. Erica wasn't wearing a hat but instead, wore a huge white, floppy ribbon bow at the top of his permed ringlets and sausage curls. Denise had a hat much like mine and had navy blue ribbons tied at the end of each long braid. Both were very red faced and fighting back tears. They must be wearing diapers, I thought.
I whispered to Erica, "Diapers?" He grimly nodded yes. Denise answered in the same manner when I asked him. "What happens if we wet or poop them at school?" Denise asked me. Erica listened in as I replied, "I don't know. I just pray I can hold it all in until I get home." Erica then asked, "How long are we gonna be like this, do you think?" None of our mothers had indicated how long, we discovered.
"It's all your mother's fault CAROLINE!" Erica said. I couldn't argue with that.
Not unexpectedly, the bus ride was sheer hell. "What pretty little school girls!"---"Love your 'Shirley Temple' perm, Erica!"---"Braids are just so 'you' Denise!"---"Did your mommies dress you this morning, sweeties?"---"What are you wearin****derneath your skirts and petticoats, Girlies?"---"Blow us a kiss sweet Caroline!"---"Are you enjoying being pretty little girls?"---"You're the sweetest little things!"---"Have any boy friends, sissies?"---"Want to sit on my lap Erica!"---"Will you lift your skirts, girls, and give us a show?"---"My, but you three are the prissiest pansies around!"---"Do you play with dollies when you get home?"---"What fags you must be to let yourselves be dressed like that!"---"Pretty ribbons sissy, boys! Did your mommies tie them?"---"Love the petticoats girls, trying to set a new fashion trend?"---"Girlie boys in skirts are sooooo cute!"---"Do you have Tampons in your pretty little purses?"---"Don't cry girls, you'll mess up your makeup!"---"Gonna try out for the cheer leading squad girls?"
These were only a small sampling of the taunting the three of us suffered at the hands of the boys and girls. At least, I thought, no mention of diapers was made.
As we reached school, being at the back of the bus, we exited last to a horde of jeering, laughing onlookers. "Here comes the BRAID-Y BUNCH!" someone yelled. Sadly, it was a fitting name for us, I thought.
Denise was the last to step off the bus and, in the panic of the moment, tripped slightly and stopped his fall with his hands. But his skirt and petticoat flew up long enough to expose his diapered and pantied bottom to the teasing crowd. "My God, he's wearing DIAPERS! I'll bet the three of them must be!" came from an unseen taunter.
Well, that secret didn't last long, though no surprise.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part3
Username: sissycaroline , Oct/6/2005 20:48:47 [-04][new]
As we made our way to the front entrance of the school, we saw Miss Quimby standing by the door. She was the assistant principal and in charge of discipline. She waved to us to come to her and told us to hold hands and follow her. Three little school girls obediently waddled forlornly behind her, hands clasped in each others', to her office. It was so shameful walking through the halls dressed as we were and holding hands. We were teased all the way there by our classmates.
In her office, we were seated on a long bench facing her desk. She spoke. "Well girls, you certainly look very pretty this morning. And you will be dressed and diapered similarly, every day, for the entire year. Arrangements have been made, through the efforts of Caroline's mother who is a teacher in a grade school in the district, for you to attend school as Denise, Erica and Caroline. You will be treated as and act like girls for the entire school year. Perhaps by that time, you will have learned how to behave properly. The three of you have been enrolled in all the same classes and your lockers are next to each others'. You have the same lunch period. At all times, you are to hold hands, as you just did, while walking to your classes. Each morning, after getting off your bus, the three of you are to quickly station yourselves at the main entrance where we just came in and you'll act as student body 'Greeters'. Meaning, you will curtsy to the students as they enter the school and wish them a cheery 'good morning'. Do you girls understand me so far?"
We, grimly, nodded yes.
Miss Quimby continued. "All bathrooms are off limits to you, both boy's and girl's. You're not real girls so you can't use the girl's bathroom and, dressed as you are, you certainly don't fit in a boy's bathroom. Besides, that's what your diapers are for. If and WHEN you mess your diapers, you are to raise your hands and, politely, ask your teacher if you can be excused to go to the health office to have your diapers changed. What I just said holds true for the entire school day, up until one hour before dismissal. If you wet or poop yourselves in the last hour of school, the nurse won't be bothered with changing you. You'll just have to wear your mess until you are changed at home. If you have pooped your diapers in that last hour, you will have to walk home, because none of your fellow classmates should have to endure your stinky diapers on the bus ride home. You are lucky that all three of you live close to school. Also, in that last hour, we won't have you stinking up your classroom. A large play pen will be set up outside the nurse's office for you to sit in until dismissal. You can bring your books and study there and do your homework, as your last period is a study hall anyways. Do you understand girls?"
"Yes." we sobbed in unison.
Miss Quimby further continued. "When anyone speaks to you or you talk to them, and that means ANYONE, you are to curtsy like a proper little school girl. Now, there is a brief assembly for the entire student body in the auditorium in five minutes. You will be introduced to them on stage and your circ-umstances will be explained. I have prepared similar brief statements for each of you to read aloud to the school."
She handed us each a piece of paper with our statement to read and dismissed us to the the auditorium. We curtsied as we left.
"Have a nice first day back to school!" she chided as we left.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part4
Username: sissycaroline , Oct/7/2005 23:42:14 [-04][new]
author's note---I fully realize that all of this is way too "fantastical" to happen in real life----but that's the joy of fantasies.
As the three of us made our way to the auditorium, Dr. Hayes, the principal, directed us up to the center of the stage and told us to just stand silently. The auditorium was full. There were many giggles and laughs at the sight of us. "Look, it's the BRAID-Y BUNCH!" someone called out. Dr. Hayes went to the microphone and welcomed the student body back and gave a fairly typical, brief "back to school" s***ch. In closing, he said, "I would now like to introduce three, somewhat new, students to everybody. And they have something to say to all of you. Denise, you may go first. And don't forget to curtsy." A lot of laughs were heard from the audience.
Tearfully, Denise, with somewhat of a waddle from his heavy diapering, made his way to the microphone. His petticoat and skirt bobbed gaily as he walked. He curtsied to great laughter and began to read aloud the statement Miss Quimby had prepared for him.
"My name used to be Dennis Tompkins but, now, I prefer to be called 'Denise' because...." Denise then through the paper to the floor and shouted, "I can't, I won't read these lies!!!!!" And he stomped his feet on the stage like a little girl. Dr. Hayes ordered him to read it but Denise still refused and started to walk off stage. He was grabbed by two guidance counselors, who easily returned him back to center stage.
"Read it Denise!" Dr. Hayes ordered. "No, I won't read these lies!" cried Denise. "Then you're going to be punished." Dr. Hayes replied.
The two guidance counselors turned Denise's back to the audience, bent him over, and lifted up the back of his pleated skirt and petticoats. Then, they pulled down his diapers and plastic pants and frilly bloomers; exposing his bare butt to the audience who roared with laughter. They held him in place. Dr. Hayes then produced a thick yard stick and reddened Denise's bare bum with a dozen whacks.
A few minutes later, diapers and panties still around his ankles, a very forlorn and contrite and shamed Denise sobbed as he read his statement.
"My name used to be Dennis Tompkins but, now, I prefer to be called 'Denise' because....because....I....I....ah....ah want, ever so much, to be a good girl, instead of the bad boy I used to be. I love being a girl. I....I....ah....love wearing girl's clothes and makeup and earrings and nail polish and wearing my hair in braids and ribbons. I need to wear diapers because I sometimes have accidents." He then curtsied and his diapers and panties were restored.
Erica and I then each read our similar humiliating statements without fuss. We surely didn't wish to be spanked like Denise.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part5
Username: sissycaroline , Oct/12/2005 01:07:29 [-04][new]
After finishing our humiliating speeches, the three of us held hands and quickly made our way off stage. Miss Quimby, the assistant principal was waiting for us. There were three girls from our eighth grade class with her. They were all quite pretty and I recognized them from being school cheerleaders. Looking at us, Miss Quimby said, "Girls, this is Ashley, Becky and Megan." We curtsied to the girls and they giggled. "One of these girls is assigned to each of you." She continued. "They are in all the same classes as you. They will be 'mentors' for you. Their job is to make sure that you act with proper girlish deportment at all times---meaning you behave as proper little school girls at all times." The girls had devilish grins on their faces. "You must obey them at ALL times. Do what they say at ALL times. In essence, they are in charge of and in control of you for the year. Do you understand sissies?" We curtsied and replied, "Yes mam." Ashley was assigned to me, Becky to Erica and Megan to Denise. Miss Quimby dismissed all six of us to go to our first class of the day.
We walked just a short ways before the three of "them" stopped the three of "us". Ashley, my mentor, spoke. "Okay, 'girlie boys', like Miss Quimby said, we're in charge of the three of you pathetic pantie waists! You do EVERYTHING we tell you. EVERYTHING! And if you don't, you'll be severely and very humiliatingly punished by us. Now, form a circle holding hands." We fearfully obeyed. "Now, give each other a nice wet kiss on the lips."
We were abhorred at the order and hesitated. I had never even really kissed a girl, much less a boy and the thought of it sickened me. "Please, no", I pleaded, but to deaf ears. "Now!!!!!" Becky ordered harshly.
In the middle of the hall, the three of us gave wet kisses on the lips to each other, as passers by roared and taunted us. "God, those sissies must be lesbians!" came one call. It was awful, not the humiliation as much as having to kiss a boy. One thing really surprised me though, and annoyed me too. When Erica kissed me, he stuck his tongue down my throat. I assumed he did the same with Denise. I certainly didn't like it and wondered why he did that.
As we walked, with a slight waddle from our diapers, to our first class, Megan ordered; "Put some wiggle in your hips girlie boys. Sashay as you walk. We want to see your pretty skirts and petticoats bobbing nicely as you go!" I knew what "sashay" meant but wondered if Erica and Denise understood. Apparently, they did, as the three of us bounced and boobed and swished and swayed our way to our first class, math.
Seats were left in the front of the class for the six of us. Each of THEM sat behind each of US. Our "mentors" (though, probably, the term "TORmentors" would be more appropriate) told us to not smooth our skirts and petticoats behind us to sit but, rather, to just sit on our butts and let our skirts and petties encircle us. This was, actually, sound advise.
Our math teacher, who seemed very strict, quieted the class with the admonition that the three new students in class (meaning us) were not to be a source of commotion or distraction to his lesson. "Behave or be dressed like them, and that certainly and especially includes you too, boys", he said.
As his lesson started, Ashley, who was seated behind me, began to tweak and play with my braids and ribbons, which hung down my back. I immediately pulled them forward. "You better put those girlish braids and ribbons back here immediately sissy boy", she whispered into my ear. I quickly obeyed. If it were a hundred years ago in school, I'm sure my braids would have been dunked in the ink well.
As the math lesson progressed, the teacher put some simple algebraic equations on the board and started calling up kids to the board, one at a time, to solve them. When my turn came, and Denise's and Erica's too, we each suffered the embarrassment of reaching up to write our answers, which greatly exposed our diapered and pantied bottoms. The class roared with laughter each time. Tears of great shame trickled down our faces. The class ended after that and it was off to the next.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part6
Username: sissycaroline , Oct/15/2005 15:40:11 [-04][new]
On the way to our next class, I noticed my braid ribbons were missing. I turned around to Ashley and saw her grinning. She was holding them in her hand. She must have untied them in math class. "Looking for these Sweetie?" she asked. "Does your mommy tie your ribbons or are you a big girl and can you tie them yourself?" I, begrudgingly, took them from her hand and tied them back in my braids. Everyone laughed at the sissy boy, girlishly tying ribbons in his braids. I was mortified. To add more insult to injury, Ashley took my purse and asked "What's inside?" and opened it. "Let's see, tissues, lipstick, makeup compact, nail polish, file, money--what--I'm surprised--no tampons!" she giggled. "We have a few minutes before social studies class. Use your compact and touch up your makeup and put more lipstick on." she ordered. "Please, not in front of everyone?" I pleaded. "Now sissy and you better get used to it!" she commanded. I, obediently, opened my compact and powdered my face and applied lipstick. Denise and Erica were made to do the same, as they had the same contents in their purses. Kids just roared with laughter at the three sissy boys doing their makeup. We wanted to die, at least Denise and I. Erica seemed to take it in stride though, almost cavalier about it. It was moments before the bell and we hurried into social studies class.
The teacher gave the same admonition that the math teacher had given about not letting the three new students cause a commotion or interference in class. "You too could wind up like them!" she warned the students. As the class was social studies, and Denise and Erica and I were in her class, the teacher seized the opportunity to talk about some unusual customs of late 19th and early 20th century America. "In those times, little boys often wore dresses and ringlets and ribbons in their long hair, until around the age of six or seven, when they were 'breeched'. This meant they would be allowed to wear short pants or knickers and would be given a haircut. Although some mothers chose to prolong it beyond young boyhood. Also, similarly, mothers often used a form of punishment for misbehaved boys called 'petticoat punishment'. Apparently, the mothers of Denise and Erica and Caroline have chosen to revive that form of punishment! How splendid!" she chimed. Oh God, I thought, a history lesson about our humiliating circ-umstances. A girl raised her hand and asked the teacher, "Did they have to wear diapers too?" Everyone heartily laughed and looked at us, as we sank down in our seats, very red with embarrassment. Class was dismissed and as we walked out, another classmate called, "Maybe if you're ever so good little school girls, your mommies will 'breech' you some time soon!" Another reply followed, "I hope not, they're way too precious like that!"
Out in the hall and nearing our next class, which was English, our mentors/TORmentors, again told us to hold hands in a circle and give wet kisses on the lips to each other. "Please not again!" cried Denise. "Don't you dare argue, sissy boy, or you'll receive much worse!" shouted Megan. As we obediently and humiliatingly kissed each others' lips, Erica, again stuck his tongue way down my throat. I responded by pushing him to the floor. His petticoat and skirt billowed up all around him and he started to cry, just like a little school girl. Mrs. Dexter, our new English teacher to be, was standing at her door and saw the whole thing. She came over and snatched me by a braid and pulled me into class. "You bad, bad little girl. You need to be punished for that!" She pulled me into her classroom and made me stand next to her desk, as the students entered and settled into their seats. I was too mortified to argue with her and didn't wish to tell her that I had been "tongued" by Erica. That would be too embarrassing. She turned my back to the class and bent me over. I started to cry, as she lifted up the back of my skirt and petticoat. "A good, old fashioned caning is what you deserve, you bad, bad little girl!" She pulled down my knickers and diapers, exposing my bare, girlish rear end to the class. She took a thick yard stick and gave me ten sharp whacks with it and then, sent me to the corner to stand for the remainder of the class with my knickers and diapers at my ankles and my skirt and petticoat held up. I spent the next forty five minutes displaying my very red, stinging butt to the class. At the end of class, Mrs. Dexter restored my diapers and knickers and sent me, sobbing, on my way. "Let that be a lesson to you to not push your classmates!" I wanted to die from shame.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part7
Username: sissycaroline , Oct/21/2005 21:00:27 [-04][new]
Out into the hall, the three of us went, followed by our mentors, and on to English class. I was so incredibly embarrassed from my bare butted ordeal that I cried unashamedly. I took a tissue from my purse to cry into, as everyone around us laughed and snickered. "Sissy boys like you deserve to be spanked!" Ashley said as we made our way into our next class.
English class was, thankfully, fairly uneventful, compared with math and social studies. I did have to "girlishly" retie my braid ribbons, though, after class, thanks to Ashley's playing with them. And our mentors made us lift our skirts and petticoats up so they could check to see if we were still dry. It was so humiliating.
Lunch was next and I wasn't particularly hungry but we had to go. Ashley, Megan and Becky had brought their lunches but Erica, Denise and I had to buy ours. The three of us got into the lunch line, me being the last. As we made our way through the line, a boy behind me kept lifting up my skirt and petticoat to see my knickers and diapers. I fought to keep them down. "Are you wet little girl?" he asked. I didn't respond. "How about a kiss Sweetie?" he laughed. I said nothing. "I bet you enjoy being a girlie boy!" he continued. I remained stoic. Finally at the cashier, I paid for my lunch and picked up my tray with both hands and started toward the table where our mentors were. As I took my first step, I felt two hands quickly reach under my skirt and yank my petticoat down. I squealed and looked down to see my petticoat around my ankles. Everyone roared with laughter. "I always wanted to see what little girls wear under their skirts and dresses!" said the boy behind me, who had pulled my petticoat down.
I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I just slowly shuffled my way toward our table, dragging my petticoat along to the taunts and jeers and laughter of the crowded cafeteria. At the table, I set my tray down and stepped out of my petticoat and took it in hand and started to head for the bathroom to put it back on. "Just where do you think you're going sissy?" Ashley shouted, over the laughter. "To the bathroom to put my petticoat back on." I replied. "Have you forgotten, you pathetic little pantie waist, that bathrooms are off limits to you?" she asked. I had forgotten. "But I need to put my petticoat back on Ashley," I pleaded. "You certainly do, missy!" she scoffed. "Hold up your skirt." she ordered. "No, no please!" I cried. "Do it or your diapers and knickers will be around your ankles next!"
I shamefully lifted my skirt above my waist and Ashley, painfully, slowly pulled my petticoat back into place and smoothed my skirt over it. The whole cafeteria got a good long look at my diapers and knickers. I couldn't have been more mortified.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part8
Username: sissycaroline , Oct/26/2005 21:26:23 [-04][new]
After lunch, we headed for home economics class. This, of course, was a class of nothing but girls and, now, three sissy boys. We were to be taught cooking and sewing and baby care and other such domestic skills. Boys took shop classes. (Remember from "Braids and Beyond"--part 1, that the year was 1980, when separate sewing/cooking/baby care classes for girls and shop classes for boys were the norm.)
The teacher, Mrs. Warner, was delighted to have me, Denise and Erica in class. "It's nice to have boys who are in touch with their feminine sides in class." she chortled as she began class. All the girls giggled. Denise and I just moaned. Erica actually smiled slightly. As Mrs. Warner began outlining what the class would be doing during the semester, she suddenly got side tracked and said, "You know girls, I just had an idea! What would you think about having our first sewing project center around our three lovely boys here? You could learn to make clothes for them! And they could be our mannequins. What do you all think?"
Ashley immediately raised her hand, "Could we make them pretty satin party dresses for the Fall Harvest dance next month?" Megan chimed in, "Yeah, nice and poufie and frilly and lacy and very full skirted, so they can wear lots of petticoats." The rest of the class added other suggestions like: "Lots of ribbons" and "pretty, long sashes" and "puffed sleeves" and "above the knee" and "one in pink and one in yellow and one in blue" and "frilly rhumba panties to go over their diapers". I knew, full well, the type of dresses the girls were thinking of. I already had one in my closet at home and had worn it many times. I could see Denise reeling in horror at the suggestions and I felt likewise. But Erica seemed unbothered by them, seemingly very accepting of the ideas.
"Well, that seems like a very tall order girls, but, you certainly have enough enthusiasm for the project. You'd have to learn and work very hard girls." Mrs. Warner cautioned. "WE WILL, WE WILL!" the class chimed. "Then party dresses and all the trimmings it will be!" Mrs. Warner declared. The class applauded loudly, and so did Erica. The remainder of the class was spent sorting out the details of what and how apparel would be made and who, in groups, would be making them. Our tasks (Erica, Denise and me) would be minimal. We'd just be "sissy mannequins" for way too zealous girls. This was sure to be a "frilly" hell for us, at least me and Denise. Class ended. As the three of us walked, holding hands of course, to our next class, science, I whispered to Erica, "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?" Erica simply responded by sticking out his tongue at me, like a petulant little girl.
Ashley heard me and saw Erica's response and said, "Caroline, you bad little girl, you apologize to Erica and give her kiss." I moaned, "Please don't make me!" Ashley ordered, "Now or I'll have you give her a lot more than an apology and a kiss! And don't forget to curtsy properly to her." I knew better than to press the issue more and curtsied and apologized and kissed her, receiving his tongue, naturally, in my mouth.
Thankfully, science was really pretty uneventful. The teacher was not interested in "sissy boys" and such. His only desire was to teach us earth science. Toward the end of class, I started to have that awful feeling of needing to use the bathroom, which, of course, was out of the question for me. I squirmed, trying to keep from messing myself. With class ended, our TORmentors walked us to the last period of the day, study hall. As we walked, I fought off the urge to wet and poop myself. When we reached study hall, I quickly seated myself and opened my notebook to start doing some homework, which I hoped would take my mind off my, seemingly, impending fate of using my diapers. But it didn't work for long. I lost the battle with my bowels. I farted loudly and expelled a huge, stinky load of poop, followed by a torrent of ***, into my diapers. Classmates around me just gasped in horror and then laughed. Ashley, who was behind me, groaned from the smell and quickly moved away.
I shamefully raised my hand and asked the teacher, "May I please go to the nurse?" The teacher devilishly grinned and answered, "Whatever for Sweetie?" She was going to make me suffer even more. I had no choice but to respond, "I messed my diapers." The class roared with laughter and I cried. "Well then, off you go little girl and have your didee changed!" she said.
I made my way to the health office as quickly as I could, where I was reminded, by the smiling nurse, that there was less than an hour left of school and I would have to wait to be changed at home. And that meant I would have to walk home, so as to not offend the bus riders with my smell. I could tell the nurse was relieved to not have to change my stinky diapers. She walked me out into the hall, where a baby pen was set up. She forced a pink pacifier into my mouth with the admonition to not remove it. "Poopy, wet baby girls need a soother!" she said. "Climb into your baby pen, Missy, and wait there until school's over." As I sat in my wet, squishy, stinky, poopy diaper, I cried thinking about the horrifying walk I'd soon take for home.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part9
Username: sissycaroline , Oct/30/2005 17:44:52 [-04][new]
As I sat in the playpen in my wet, stinky mess, suc-king on my pacifier, I hung my head shamefully to avoid seeing classmates who passed by. Unfortunately, I could certainly hear their comments about the stinky little baby girl displayed before them. "Oh phew, you stink little girl. Wouldn't the nurse change your poopy diaper?" said one girl giggling as she confronted me. A seventh grade boy passed by, "God, what a pathetic, poopy little sissy pansie you are! How can you let this be done to you?" Another boy approached and answered his question, "He, obviously, must like being a girl, and, apparently, a very LITTLE girl." I just kept my head hung and sobbed.
After ten minutes, I heard Erica's voice and looked up. "Hi Caroline, I'm gonna be keeping you company!" he said, rather gleefully and he climbed in and sat next to me. He immediately held my hand and I pulled mine out from his grip. "Becky and Ashley told me we were to hold hands in the playpen." he scolded. (I didn't know it, but this was a lie. They had given no such order.) And he took my hand again. "Did you mess your diaper?" I asked. "Well, I just wet it. I actually ***d on purpose so I could join you and walk home with you. Boy, you stink!" Erica said. "Sorry I stink so much," I replied. "But why would you purposely wet your diaper?" I asked, incredulously. "So I could be with you! I'd much rather walk home with you than ride the bus with Denise. He's no fun and I like YOU much better. Besides, you're a lot PRETTIER than he is! And you don't smell that awful." he chimed, as he squeezed my hand tighter. Erica then reached into his purse and pulled out a spray perfume and said, "But let me spray you with some cologne to get you smelling prettier." I normally would resist the offer but didn't, in the hope that it would cover up some of the smell of my diaper. (Boy, this kid is a freakin' faggot, I thought as he spritzed me all over with the cologne.)
Erica returned the cologne to his purse and then took from it a makeup compact and tube of lipstick. He opened the compact and looking into its mirror, girlishly powdered his nose and cheeks and forehead and reapplied lipstick. Next, he took a small container of rouge and reddened his cheeks with the brush. He then took out the spray cologne again and spritzed himself. "We girls have to smell nice!" he giggled. I just watched in disbelief over the fact that he was doing all of this without being ordered to by his mentor, Becky. With his makeup freshened, he looked into the compact's mirror and began to fuss and primp his permed sausage curls and ringlets with his fingers. He adjusted his ribbons. When satisfied, he looked to me and gushed, "How do I look Caroline?" I sarcastically answered, "You look pretty as a picture Erica!" Apparently, he didn't catch my sarcasm and beamed, "Gosh, thanks. You're such a sweetie!" And before I knew it, he leaned to me and kissed me on the cheek leavin*****known at the time to me, a very pronounced pink lipstick print on it. "Don't do that! No one ordered you to." I said. Erica teared a bit and said, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to." (God, this kid was really into this girlish stuff, I thought, and obviously had a crush on me. What a queer.)
Erica was undaunted and continued his girlish bantering. "I really love your braids and ribbons Caroline. I so wish that I had braids that reached down to the middle of my back. I ho*****ver so much, that my mommy will let me wear braids with pretty ribbons, when my hair is long enough. I'd love them even more than my ringlets and sausage curls! They require a lot of setting and rollers." I just tried my best to ignore him, but he continued. "I'm so happy that the girls in home economics are going to make us pretty, frilly little party dresses. I hope mine is pink. I know you have a very pretty pink satin party dress that your mommy bought for you at the dress boutique in the Mall. I saw you wearing it this summer and was so envious of it. It must be just so dreamy to wear it. You're such a lucky girl!!!" I corrected him, "That's--BOY." She was chagrined and replied, "Oh yes, that's right. I'm sorry." (I'd gladly give my pink satin party dress to this little prissy queer, if I could , I mussed.)
The end of school bell rang. Our playpen time was just about up. I could hear kids heading for their lockers. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire." I said. Prissy Erica just smiled. As kids passed by, they held their noses and greatly berated the two of us. I started to tear up, in anticipation of the humiliating walk home we'd soon undertake. Becky and Ashley arrived and told us to climb out of the playpen. They, too, held their noses. I climbed out first, my poo squishing and sticking to my bum and butt crack and "nether" regions. Erica was next. As he climbed out, he farted loudly. "Oops!" he squealed, "I pooped my diaper." I couldn't help but wonder if he did it on purpose. He was strange enough to do that, I thought.
"Well, well, well. It looks like we now have two poopy, stinky baby girls to walk home! Put in your pacifiers and don't you dare remove them." Ashley ordered. We headed to the exit, to the sound of great laughter and taunting from the nose pinched students. I felt like a "dead man walking".
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The Braid-y Bunch--part10
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/4/2005 21:31:25 [-04][new]
As Erica and I waddled toward the exit, Ashley and Becky stopped us. They held their breath to fend off the smell and pinned tagboard signs to the front and back of our skirts that read "Warning--wet, poopy, stinky diapers". We were told to hold hands and suc-k mightily on our pacifiers and were marched outside to begin our walk. Becky and Ashley followed behind, though not too closely.
While walking, Erica smiled gaily at the jeering, taunting crowd of students that gathered to accompany us home. I held my head low in deep shame. "Head up, you poopy, stinky sissy boy!" Ashley shouted to me. I cried as I looked up into the horde of teasing kids. "Hurry home to your mommies, little girls, so they can change your diapers!"---"Phew, you sissies stink!"---"Do you pansies wear diapers to bed and sleep in cribs?"---"I'll bet those two faggots enjoy wearing poopy diapers!"---"Do your mommies have a bottle waiting for you at home?"---"What a couple of pantie waists to let that be done to them!"---"I think they must like it!"---"Who kissed you Caroline?" I still was not aware of the lipstick mark on my cheek from Erica. That remark reminded Becky to have us kiss each other.
"Stop sissies and freshen your makeup and lipstick and primp your hair." Becky ordered. We dutifully opened our purses and performed the humiliating task, though Erica, of course, didn't seem bothered by it. With our makeup freshed and hair primped, Ashley said, "Now curtsy to each other and embrace and give each other a nice, wet sissy kiss." I groaned, "Please no!" Erica chimed, "Please yes!" The crowd shouted "Sissy kissy, sissy kissy, sissy kissy" over and over. "Now!!!" shouted Becky. We curtsied and embraced and kissed, Erica using her tongue, of course.
As we reached about the half way point to our homes (Erica and I lived fairly close to each other), someone in the crowd shouted, "We want to see their diapers and pretty panties!" Ashley grinned and responded, "Well of course, what a great idea!"
With that, Ashley ordered us to stop and take off our skirts and petticoats. "No, I won't!" I screamed. "Oh yes you will, you poopy pansie, or you'll get a huge spanking across your messy bottom!" said Becky. "Someone find a branch some where to swat her with." Ashley called to the crowd. I didn't want my poo smothered butt to spanked and quickly replied, "Okay, okay."
"Then get to it, you fairy boys." ordered Ashley. With that, Erica and I removed our skirts and petticoats and handed them to our mentors. The crowd became briefly silent at the sight of the frilly panties covering our diapers. Then they roared with laughter. We finished the rest of our walk home without the benefit of our skirts and petticoats.
Erica's house was first and upon reaching it, his mother opened the front door with a smile. Her smile broadened even more when she beheld her sissy son, sans skirt and petticoat. "Oh my!" she gushed as she directed him inside. A couple of minutes later, we mercifully reached my house. My older sister Ellie and her best friend, Jessica, were waiting on the porch for me. They had purposely hurried home from their high school to see how things went on my first day back to school as a girl. They were pleasantly surprised to see my condition. "Get a load of the sissy!" I heard Ellie squeal to Jessica.
Ellie and Jessica pinched their noses as I passed them entering the house. Mom was waiting in the living room for me. "Oh God Caroline, you stink! You pathetic little sissy, you can't even control your bowels for the short time you're in school. Well, you can just spend the rest of the evening in your mess. You can clean up for bed time." Ellie and Jessica giggled. I cried.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part11
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/11/2005 01:22:06 [-04][new]
That first evening, after my first day back to school as a girl, offered me little rest or comfort from my agonizing day at junior high. Kept in my wet, poopy diapers; I suffered the mess as well as the constant teasing from Ellie and Jessica. Denied dinner, as punishment for messing myself at school, I spent most of the evening with my nose in the corner holding the back of my skirt and petticoat up, listening to the unrelenting teasing of the girls. Mom, of course, did nothing to stop them. I really didn't mind going without supper though. The day's ordeal left me with little appetite and having no dinner meant having a better chance of NOT pooping my diaper at school tomorrow. At 9:00, I was allowed to shower and return to the living room for diapering and dressing for bedtime by Ellie and Jessica.
As Jessica, the gorgeous girl of my dreams, pulled my plastic rhumba panties over my fresh diapers, she whispered softly, "My but what a brave little girl you must have been today." And she kissed me on the forehead. ("Wow," I thought, "that's the closet I'll ever get to first base with her.") My nitey was pulled over my head, a dolly was given to me and a pacifier placed in my mouth and off to bed I went.
The next morning at 7:40 AM, I was again standing at the bus stop. I was dressed like the day before, except my short pleated skirt was navy blue, as were my matching braid ribbons. And I sported frilly rhumba panties, covered in light blue lace and ruffles, over my bulging diapers. Again, my short skirt and petticoat did little to cover my diapers and frilly rhumba panties. I cringed as the bus arrived and the door opened.
My fellow riders were thrilled to see my pathetic sissy self, as was evidenced by their smiles and laughter and taunts. "Pretty panties, you pathetic poopy pantywaist! Hope you poop them today too." called one boy , as he lifted up my skirt and petticoat. I waddled toward the back of the bus, where Erica and Denise and our mentors awaited. "Remember sissies," Ashley reminded, "When we get to school, you three are to quickly report to the main entrance to curtsy and greet students as they arrive. And I better hear cheery greetings and see big, girlish smiles on your adorable sissy faces."
Upon arrival at school, our mentors hurried us into positions at the main entrance to do our humiliating greeting. I foolishly asked Ashley, "Do I have to curtsy?" She sarcastically answered, "Well, of course you DON'T have to curtsy Sweetie. Not if you DON'T want to. You can do something else!" With that, she faced me to her, looked around to assure no teachers were nearby, and ordered me to hold the front of my skirt and petticoat up. I cried, "Please no!" She grinned and said "Now sissy boy!" I knew better than to disobey. With my skirt and petticoat front held up, Ashley pulled my diapers and rhumba panties down and secured them just under my balls. My ***** became immediately very erect and quite visible to all.
Again, she looked around to see that no adults were nearby and told me, "Instead of curtsying, you are to hold your dress and petticoat up and play with yourself as students pass by." She continued, "Instead of saying good morning, you are to say I LOVE, EVER SO MUCH, BEING A PRETTY SCHOOL GIRL." Ashley added, "And that little girly wiener of yours better be very stiff at all times! Got it Sissy? If a teacher approaches, you are to quickly stop and drop your skirt." As I cried, Megan, Denise's mentor, said "Get pumping, you little pansy!" I started this most degrading act as I heard Erica ask Becky, his mentor, "Can I do it too, pwetty pwease?" Becky admonished her with, "No, it's not meant for fun you sicko!"
I spent the next ten minutes, poised between the curtsying Erica and Denise, reciting my degrading verse while playing with myself. I sobbed and listened to all the taunts of the students, most of which were directed to me, the masturbating sissy boy. "What a sissy pervert!" was heard the most. And I was that.
As the last of the arriving students came, Ashley had one more humiliation in store. "Now sissy boy, pump hard and squirt your little girly juices!" I was abhorred, "No, I won't." A swat to my rear was followed by "Do it yourself or I'll let Erica suc-k you off!" Erica gushed, "Oh, can I, can I, pwetty pwease?" I wasn't about to let that happen and pumped away and squirted my c-um onto the floor. Ashley then told me to take some tissues from my purse and clean up the mess. I was exhausted but did it. My skirt and petticoat was restored, though my pride would never be, and off to first period we sissies sashayed and waddled. I was sweating profusely.
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The second day of school was much the same as the first, with three exceptions. The first exception was a positive one--none of us three sissies wet or pooped our diapers. The second exception was not a positive one--we seemed to be subjected to even more taunting and teasing than the day before. Apparently, kids who hadn't had the opportunity to see us (and tease us) after the assembly yesterday scrambled to see the three pathetic sissy boys prancing through the halls dressed as school girls. Everywhere we went, we were followed by a larger throng of jeering kids who seemed to especially want to see our diapered and pantied bottoms, which our TORmentors made us display at every request. We had to bend over and lift our skirts and petticoats and wiggle our fannies whenever some asked to see our diapers. Because of this increased attention, our mentors also made us do even more kissing and curtsying and primping and makeup refreshing than yesterday. The third exception was, especially, not a positive one--we had physical education the last period. Had I known what would transpire in phys. ed. class, I might have, purposely, wet and pooped my diapers to be made to sit in the play pen in the hall instead. That might have been better than the humiliation in phys. ed.
As we arrived at the girl's gymnasium, the phys. ed. teacher, Ms. Cooper, directed Erica, Denise and me into her office. Ms. Cooper was rather "butch" in appearance, probably in her late twenties or early thirties, and rumored to be a lesbian. She also seemed to have absolutely no pity for the three sissy girly boys she was confronting. "You pansies will have to change in here, you can't change in the girl's locker room or shower with them. You also can't wear the standard girl's gym outfit of shorts and a top. No shorts would fit over your pathetic bulging bottoms. But, luckily for you little darlings, I have some cute gymslips for you to wear!" And she smiled widely and held one up before us. It was, basically, a short, pink pleated skirt with a kind of bib front that had pink cloth straps attached that connected to the waist of the back of the skirt. A simple, white tee shirt was to be worn under it. These "gymslips" had, obviously, been especially prepared for us. Ms. Cooper sneered at us and continued, "Now, girlies, strip to nothing but your bras and diapers with those gorgeous panties."
She supervised us as we undressed. We donned our simple, white tee shirts only to discover that they weren't quite that simple. To our horror, on the front just below the neck line was an embroidered word in pink. That word was SISSYBOY. Next, the gymslips were placed on us. The very short pleated skirts covered our panties only about halfway down, even shorter than our school skirts. "Sorry girls, but you won't be able to wear your adorable petticoats that I know you love so much." Ms. Cooper taunted. With our gymslips in place, we were given pink short socks with pom poms around the ankle tops and pink, low cut sneakers to wear. "These will be your gym outfits for the year. Aren't they darling? Now run along to the gym sweeties!"
As we waddled to the gym, I couldn't help but notice how much our diapers bulged under our unpetticoated skirts and how much our rhumba panties showed from beneath them. Entering the gym, the girls, who were busy playing makeshift games of volleyball at the nets, stopped and rushed to us gushing about how "precious" we looked. Becky, Ashley and Megan, our mentors, directed us to join in the volleyball games. We knew better than to disobey and spent the next few minutes playing, with our skirts bouncing up and down when we ran or jumped. The girls appreciated our humiliating pantie displays and rewarded us with much laughter and teasing. Ms. Cooper finally entered the gym and called us all to gather around her and be seated.
She began. "Our first unit in phys. ed. is gymnastics and the first thing you will learn is how to stand on your head. It's really quite simple to do. I'll show you." And she knelt on a mat and placed the top of her head on it with the palms of her hands angled in front of her about six inches from her face. "This is like an airplane making a three point landing." she explained. She then lifted her legs up vertically and made a perfect head stand. Still in her head stand, she said, "Of course, you girls will probably need someone to spot you or support you when you try." She came back down and stood. "I need three volunteers to be spotters and three to try standing on their heads." Many hands, including our mentors' and Erica's, were enthusiastically raised. Denise and I certainly didn't raise our hands. "Ashley, Megan and Becky--you be spotters." Ms. Cooper then grinned devilishly, "And you three can pick who will try head standing." Well daaaaa! It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out who they'd choose. A minute later, Denise, Erica and I were poised in perfect headstands, supported by our mentors, our diapers and rhumba panties fully displayed for everyone to laugh and giggle at. We were kept in that humiliating position for a couple of minutes of teasing by the class. Ms. Cooper finally allowed us to come down and said to us, "Let that be a lesson to you sissy boys--I mean, in head standing, of course." And she giggled. Red faced from the head standing and the humiliation, we sat down as others tried. Finally the class ended and we held hands and went to Ms. Cooper's office and changed. We didn't shower. We didn't care. We waited for our mentors to shower and change and escort us to our lockers and the bus for home. Our gymnastic exploits were the talk of the bus. "Those sissy faggots were really pretty good at head standing. Maybe they should try out for cheer leading. They'd look so cute in cheer leading skirts and sweaters." I heard a girl in the seat in front of us say to her companion. Our mentors heard them too and grinned.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part13
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/14/2005 08:21:38 [-04][new]
6:30 AM, school day three dawned wet, cold and rainy. I was wakened to the sound of my mother's call as she entered my room. "Good morning Sweetie, time to get up." she said as she stood at my bedside and slipped her hand into my diapers to discover I was dry and clean. "Good girl, you don't need a diaper change for school. Just put on your white rhumba panties and get dressed. Your outfit is laid out for you. Then do your makeup and lipstick but don't do your hair. I'll remove your rollers and braid your hair this morning." I was still required, most nights, to set my hair in pink rollers and cover it with a hair net. Curls in my hair was never the intent, as no kind of setting gel or even water was ever used and, my hair would only be braided most times anyways. The aim was to just have me experience the very girlish sensation of setting my hair and wearing rollers through the night.
I slipped on my rhumba panties over my still clean double diapers, fastened and tissue stuffed my bra and got dressed. My skirt was a pleated, short beige one and was flared with my petticoat underneath. My top was a cream colored, short sleeved, light weight sweater type of top. Vanilla colored knee socks and my black, patent leather Maryjanes completed my attire for the day. I did my makeup and lipstick. Sadly, I had become very adept at all these girlish tasks. I touched up my pink nails, put in my gold heart earrings and set off for mom's room for my braiding. I wondered why she was going to braid my hair because, also sadly, I had become quite adept at that girlish chore too.
Seated at her dressing table, she removed my hairnet and rollers and set to task parting and braiding my hair. As she neared the end of my second braid, she smiled and said, "You know Caroline, I'm now so glad you disobeyed me and didn't get your hair cut last June. If you had, I wouldn't have a pretty, little daughter now to dress and braid. And I know you're as glad about it as I am." I didn't respond to that last absurd comment. It would have been meaningless to mom.
With my second braid done, mom didn't attach ribbons to the ends like normal. Instead, she cut two lengths of white yarn and said, "Your braids must be a good three inches longer than they were in June. Let's do something a little creative with them for a change." I didn't like the sound of that.
Mom took one braid end and looped it up and behind the beginning of that braid in my scalp and told me to hold it there. Then, she took a piece of white yarn and tied the loop very tightly and securely in place with a double knot. She did the same with the other braid. I groaned. "Oh hush, Buttercup. You'll look adorable." mom scolded. Large, almost over-sized white satin ribbon bows were tied where the loops had been joined. Spritzed next with a girly spray perfume, mom sent me to the kitchen for breakfast. I hated these braid loops. They, somehow, seemed even more sissyish than my normal braids. The satiny white bows perched just behind each ear top, with their long ribbons dangling down, tickled my ears and neck. The braid loops bounced and swung back and forth with every head movement. They seemed to have a life of their own. I was much more acutely aware of them than my normal braids. I was sure mom was also "acutely" aware of this too. Hence, the new braid look! I remembered disliking pigtails, which I had worn a few times, for these same reasons.
When I reached the kitchen, Ellie was eating cereal at the breakfast table. "Love the braid loops, sissy brother! They're cute." she mumbled through a mouthful of Fruit Loops. "Yeah, right!" I replied. "At least, kids seated behind you in class may be less tempted to play with your braids." she laughed. She had a point, though not a good enough one to make me be happy about my braid loops. As she spooned her Fruit Loops into her mouth, something dawned on her and she giggled and passed the box of cereal to me. "Have some FRUIT LOOPS sissy. A perfect breakfast for you Caroline. After all, you're a FRUIT with LOOPS in his hair. How ironic!" Ellie was well pleased with her pun. I wasn't, despite its cleverness. Unfortunately though, I knew her quip was correct. I, certainly not by choice but none the less, WAS a fruit with loops in his hair. Mom had overheard this and scolded Ellie, "Leave your little sister alone. She looks precious."
Outside, the rain was falling heavily. When I finished my breakfast, mother had me get ready for the bus. At the doorway, she said, "Caroline, it's really raining hard and is supposed to all day." With that, she went to the hall closet and produced a pink, very little girlish hooded raincoat and matching pink galoshes and umbrella. I groaned as she fitted the galoshes over my maryjanes and buckled the raincoat over my skirt and top. "Oh mom, do I have to wear this?" I sobbed. "Of course silly girl! It's pouring out there. Can't get your hair and outfit wet." And she pulled the hood over my braid looped head. The pink umbrella was opened, my purse and book bag given me, and out the door I trudged. As I left, I heard Ellie call, "Have a good day at school, FRUIT LOOPS!!!!"
Five minutes later, I arrived at the bus stop, moments before it pulled up. The door opened and I started to climb up the three steps. "Stop Sweetie," called the driver, "Gotta close your pretty, pink umbrella little girl!" I did so and started down the aisle to Erica, Denise and our mentors. Erica and Denise were, very similarly to me, wearing pink, hooded raincoats. I purposely left my hood up, as I was not eager to show off my new braid loops. When we reached school and stood at ours lockers to remove our rain gear, our TORmentors squealed in delight at the sight of the braid loops and huge ribbon bows now adorning my uncovered head. "Oh Caroline, you look so pretty in braid loops. I absolutely love them! So little girlish." Ashley gushed as she tweaked them. I didn't appreciate her compliment.
As we made our way to the main entrance to perform our humiliating greetings, Erica asked Ashley, "Is Caroline gonna be waving his girly wiener to the kids. If he is, can I, pwetty pwease suc-k..." Ashley quickly cut him off. "Shut up, you pervert faggot, no you can't and no, he won't be." I was very glad to hear this. "But, you know, that does give me an idea." Ashley said, "Instead of curtsying to the students Caroline, I want you to wave your braid loops in greeting to them." For the next ten minutes I bid the students a good morning, as I waved hello with my braid loops. Many horrible comments were made along with the laughter of course, but the worst and most surprising comment came from a seventh grade girl. "Love your new look, FRUIT LOOPS!"
The morning bell rang, signalling the start of classes. The day went by, no better and perhaps a little worse due to my new hairdo, until after lunch when we headed for home economics class. As we entered the class, I felt the rumblings of a needed visit to the bathroom, which of course was out of the question for me. I hadn't relieved myself in almost a day I realized. Erica and Denise and I were humiliatingly stripped of our skirts, petticoats and tops so more accurate measurements could be taken by the girls for the party dresses they were to make for us for the Fall dance. Standing in just our bras and diapers and rhumba panties and socks and maryjanes, measuring tapes snaked around and all over us. It was quite embarrassing. As the measuring went on, I fought off the urge of mother nature. But before too long, I lost the battle and wet my diaper and then thoroughly pooped it. The girls measuring me immediately smelled what I had done and gasped and backed away. "Pew, you smell Caroline. Did you mess your diapers?" asked one of the girls measuring me. "Caroline, do you need to ask me something?" inquired our teacher. "May I please go to the nurse for a diaper change?" I asked. The class roared with laughter. "Yes you may Caroline, but not for a diaper change, but to get some diapers to bring back here to class for US to change you into." She continued, "Child and baby care is part of this course and you afford us the perfect opportunity for the class to learn how to change a baby's messy diapers. Run along baby and get some disposables."
A few minutes later, I forlornly returned with two Depends in hand. The teacher placed a diaper mat on a table. She signaled me to, "Climb on, butt down." She called the class to gather around and then pulled off my rhumba panties and untaped my disposable diapers. "Watch carefully girls and I don't want any comments about how gross it is. Little babies can't help it." she admonished. She opened the front of my diapers and washed my wiener and ******, thoroughly, with sudsy, warm water. This caused an immediate erection and the girls giggled. Some girls, more chasted than others, looked away. Erica immediately started to ask, "Can I, pweety pwease, suc-k.." but was quickly cut off again by Ashley. "Shut up Erica!" With my front cleaned, the teacher told me to arch my back and then removed the soiled diapers from underneath me. Several girls couldn't help but moan and held their noses. With the diaper removed, I was placed on my front and my poopy bottom and crack was thoroughly cleaned. "Clean as a whistle! Now girls, diaper ointment is essential to prevent diaper rash." And she covered my bum with the greasy goo. Lastly, my behind was well baby powdered, as well as my front, and new diapers were taped around me. With rhumbas restored, I was done. I was so horribly embarrassed. I had been changed before, many times of course, by mom and Ellie and Jessica. But I had done the messy, stinky cleanup part myself in the shower. Now I had been cleaned and diapered in front of a whole class of my ***rs. I cried miserably from the enormous shame I felt. How could I ever face these girls again???????? As the class was nearing the end, mine and Erica's and Denise's outfits were placed back on us. We held hands and exited the room, my head hung low in bitter shame and embarrassment. The class was, surprisingly and pleasantly, very hushed.
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School day four came, followed by day five, then week one, followed by week two and so on; and soon it was mid October. The torturous sissy humiliations for Erica, Denise and me, of course, continued "full throttle". The gymnastics unit in phys. ed. afforded a lot of diaper and pantie displays thanks to lots of cartwheels, trampoline jumping, head standing, vaulting and balance beam walking. I was particularly good at these things, a fact that I knew would come back to bite me. Wet and poopy diaper changes happened for us fairly routinely, but fortunately I was able to refrain from messing myself in home economics class and thus avoided the humiliation of being changed by the girls in the class. Erica, on the other hand, almost always seemed to choose that time to mess his diapers. He, obviously, liked being changed by the girls. He was such a fruit! Speaking of which, my mother almost always had me wear braid loops, as a rule, and I was now, quite regularly, referred to by my nickname "Fruit Loops". Denise's long braids were now usually looped too.
The Fall Harvest dance was just two weeks away and the home economics class was well under way in creating sissy dresses for us to wear to it. Three identical lavish concoctions were decided upon----one in bubble gum pink, one in powder blue and one in lemon yellow. Erica begged for the pink one and his girlish wish was granted. Denise's was to be the blue one and mine, the lemon yellow. We spent countless classes having them sewn and fitted to us. They were really quite elaborate, more than just party dresses, and more like the ultra frilly pageant dresses that little girls wore in beauty pageant competitions. Very embellished affairs with beaded and embroidered bodices, tons of lace and ruffles and ribbons and bows and very full, to allow lots of petticoats. And VERY short. I cringed at the thought of what would be displayed underneath them, which I knew would be equally frilly matching rhumba panties covering thick diapers.
One week before the dance, our hideous pageant dresses were completed. Three days before the dance, our equally hideous matching rhumbas were done. Two days before dance time, we modeled them to the home economics class. Our very full skirts were supported by mountains of white, stiff net petticoats and matching lace anklets and patent leather, strapped Maryjanes with three inch heels adorned our feet. Our behinds were well displayed. The teacher and class was well satisfied with their work. I was WELL----sick with the thought of having to appear at the Harvest Dance so attired. I just stood there and cried as the girls gushed over how pretty we three sissy boys looked. With class nearing the end, our outfits were removed and carefully folded and bagged for us to take home at school's end to show our families and to come dressed in on Friday evening at the Harvest Dance. I prayed a severe earthquake or some other such calamity of nature would happen and cause the cancellation of the dance. Of course, I knew the chances of this happening were very slim.
Friday came ever too quickly and mom and Ellie and Jessica got an early start in preparing me for the dance. They began as soon as I got home from school. They marveled at the ultra sissy, frilly dress and rhumbas and anklets and Maryjanes. They decided they would bathe me themselves and did so in a very scented bubble bath and meticulously shaved every hair on my body. My hair was washed and conditioned and braid looped, of course. It was now time to get dressed.
-
Jessica and Ellie took charge of my diapering. As the first of two Depends was placed under my bum, I became quite erect. Jessica was really gorgeous. "Oh stop that, you little pansy!" Ellie growled as she slapped my engorged little girly wiener. Jessica just grinned. She knew she was the cause of my "stiffie". The second diaper was placed on me. A translucent pair of pink diaper panties went over them, followed by my extremely embellished and frilled lemon yellow rhumba diaper panties. The girls almost swooned at the sight of the ultra sissy panties. My padded bra was next, then my matching anklets. Into two very full and very short and very stiff net petticoats I stepped.
Mom entered the room with the lemon yellow dress the girls in home economics made for me. I wanted to throw up. It was sooooooooooooooooo prissy and little girlish. And I'd be prancing around in it all night in front of the whole school. On to me, it went. Its short skirt was parallel to the ground, thanks to the mountainous stiff petticoats. It did little to cover my diapers and rhumba panties. That was the idea, of course. The huge sash in the back was tied in a large, perfect bow. Mom adjusted and smoothed and straightened the dress. "Okay princess, time for makeup." mom said. And off to her dressing table we all went.
Mom applied a makeup foundation to my face and neck that was a little unusual, I thought. It had a definite off white quality to it. Onto this base, all the other makeup was applied---mascara, eye liner and shadow, powder, blush and so on. For the first time, very long and curly false eye lashes were added. They were going "all out for the occasion", as mom said. Shiny pink lipstick was next, creating perfect cupid's bow lips. Jessica and Ellie hand been painting my nails in matching pink while mom had been doing my makeup. Sprayed with perfume, mom attached gigantic, satin yellow ribbon bows to my braid loops. My diamond stud earrings were attached. A matching lemon yellow purse was handed to me. My three inch heeled, patent leather, yellow Maryjanes were strapped to my feet, and I was declared done. "Oh, I almost forgot, just one more thing." mom said. She opened a drawer and pulled out a necklace. "I got this especially for tonight at the Piercing Pagoda at the Mall. It was custom made." she told me. It was a gold chain, with what looked like small, colored, plastic blocks like a baby would play with, fixed in the center of the chain. When it was secured around my neck, I could fully see it in the mirror. "Please, please, please no!!!!!!" I cried, and with good reason. The blocks spelled out "SISSYBOY". "Oh hush, sissy brat!" mom scolded, "Are you gonna try to argue that you're not a SISSYBOY dressed like that?" I couldn't argue the point.
"Oh my God, he's a living doll!" Ellie gushed, as mom directed me to the full length mirror on the wall to see the results of their efforts. Unfortunately, Ellie was right. The slightly off white foundation on my face gave me, somewhat, the look of a little girl's porcelain china doll. "Please mom, do something with my makeup, it's too white!" I begged. She responded, "Non sense, you look Sweet Caroline!" (Apologies to Neil Diamond. Though I'm surprised I didn't stick that in chapters ago.) And the next stop was to be the dance. Ellie and Jessica, not surprisingly, were going, to revel in my humiliation and mom was going to be a chaperone. And I was going to die of embarrassment.
Half an hour later, I was seated in the school gymnasium between my equally girlish fellow sissies--Erica and Denise. We were all fighting back tears, even Erica, who had the faint smell of permanent solution about him. His ringlets and sausage curls were glistening and very tight. I whispered to him, "Was your hair permed again?" He sniffled, "Yup, that's why I'm crying. I smell from it." I quipped, "It's better than the smell of poopy diapers!" He took little comfort in my comment. I so hoped I would not have that stinky diaper smell tonight.
Before long Ashley, Becky and Megan, our mentors, appeared in front of us. "Stand up and curtsy you precious little girls. Let's get a look." Becky ordered. We obliged. "My goodness," Megan squealed, "you three look absolutely adorable. Especially you Caroline. You look like a little dolly!" Just what I didn't want to hear, but I thanked her, none the less; knowing it was expected of me.
"Sit back down sissy boys and wait here until we come back. We have something to do. Be good little girls and we'll be back in about five minutes." Ashley said. We demurely reseated ourselves in our mountains of femininity.
We watched as Ashley, Megan and Becky approached three boys standing near the punch table. Soon, they were slow dancing with them. This was a real surprise to us. Despite being our TORmentors, Ashley, Megan and Becky were very pretty girls and could easily dance with any boy in the gym that they might choose. But they had chosen three geeky, nerdy, pimple faced seventh graders, who I'm sure were equally surprised to be dancing with them. I could see the girls busily talking to the nerds as they danced. When the dance ended, the girls walked the boys to us. Ashley said to us, "Please stand girls!" She continued, "Erica, Denise, and Caroline meet Christopher, Donald and Sam. And curtsy girls." We did so and Ashley continued, "Girls, these boys are going to be your dates for the evening."
"What, not a chance. No way!" the boys chimed in unison. "Oh yes boys--way!!!" Ashley evilly admonished. "Listen hard and listen well boys." she continued, "You are gonna have a choice to make." I could tell our mentors had this well planned ahead of time. "You will either be their dates for tonight and dance with them or you'll be LIKE THEM!!!"
"Huh?" in unison, they again replied. Becky took over. "If you boys refuse to be their dates, I promise you that Ashley, Megan and I will cause you three to get into very great trouble here in school and very soon. We've already made plans as to how to accomplish that." Ashley retook the pronouncement. "Believe me, when I say, that we have the power and ability to see to it that your punishment for the trouble we'll easily get you into will be to---JOIN THE RANKS OF THESE THREE PATHETIC SISSY BOYS!" Ashley appeared quite convincing. "Sam, you'd make a lovely Samantha---Donald, a precious Donna and Christopher---Chrissy is such a pretty name! Now boys, or will it be girls, you have one minute to talk amongst yourselves and make a choice---be dates or be LITTLE GIRLS!"
I knew, full well, that our mentors couldn't come through on their threats. But apparently, Sam, Donald and Christopher didn't feel that way. A minute later, the three chagrined boys begrudgingly agreed to be our dates for the night.
"Smart choice boys." Ashley said.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part16
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/21/2005 00:34:25 [-04][new]
"Okay boys and girls, let's get this party started." Ashley said. "Boys, choose your poison. Who wants to be Erica's date?" she asked. Sam volunteered. Erica was quite thrilled with his choice. I wasn't all that surprised that Sam picked Erica. Sam seemed a little "swishy" himself and so Erica seemed a logical choice for him, I figured. Donald paired with Denise and Christopher was to be my date.
"Now kids---some ground rules that better be followed precisely or there will be punishments for all." Ashley scorned. "You all are to dance every dance with each other---unless some boy asks to cut in." she added sarcastically with a laugh, knowing that would never happen. "When you begin a dance, boys--you are to bow to your lovely dates, and sissies, you are to respond with deep curtsies. If the dance is a slow one, and I'm sure there will be many, you are to embrace closely. Sissies, you are to rest your heads, longingly, on your date's shoulder. At the end of any dance, slow or fast, you are to again bow boys and curtsy sissies. And sissies, you are to kiss your dates on the cheek or the lips if you prefer." she again added sarcastically with a laugh. "Now hit the dance floor and have fun kids!!!!!!!!!"
The first dance was indeed, a slow one. Christopher bowed and I curtsied. We embraced and I girlishly rested my braid looped and beribboned head on Christopher's shoulder. Denise and Erica and their dates followed suit. As the six of us danced, all the other couples laughed constantly and taunted the "faggot couples" as someone called us. At times, the entire dance floor of couples seemed to stop just to watch and tease the pathetic six of us. The first dance ended, the boys bowed and we sissies curtsied and kissed our dates on the cheeks, well, except Erica, of course. He kissed Sam on the lips. Lipstick imprints were clearly visible on Christopher's and Donald's cheeks, though they didn't know it. The crowd roared with laughter at this spectacle that was to be repeated with each dance.
The second dance was a fast one, requiring no embraces or touching, thankfully. But a fast dance had its draw backs. All the quick movements caused the heavily petticoated skirts of our dresses to flare and swish uncontrollably and our diapers and rhumba panties to be displayed even more. I felt like that day last summer when I had been made to twirl my petticoats at the dress boutique. The crowd loved it. "Twirl sissies, twirl for us!" was heard from many. "Love your pretty panties, sissy boys!" was also quite common.
The night progressed in the same fashion. Midway through the dance, during a slow one, Christopher and I spoke for the first time. "Are you the one they call FRUITLOOPS?" Christopher asked. "Yes CHRISSY, and I'll punch you if you call me that!" I angrily replied. "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just asking." he said. Christopher continued, "Look, for what it's worth, if I didn't know you were a boy, I'd be happy to dance with you. You are really pretty, except you're a boy." He was getting flustered. "Yeah, I am a boy and you better not forget it!" I found his compliment to be a dubious one and unappreciated.
The night slowly wore on with tons of teasing and laughter, kisses and curtsies and embracing, swishing and twirling, and massive humiliation for all six of us. As the last hour approached, I realized I'd need to relieve myself, probably very soon. I had so hoped I wouldn't wet and mess my diapers here. I fought to control my kidneys and bowels, as always. But, as always, I knew I'd soon lose the battle. Then it dawned on me that if I messed myself, at least I'd would not be made to dance. I'd be far too stinky and would greatly offend Christopher with the smell, as well as those dancing around us. So I figured, at least, something would be positive about loosing my battle with the bowels and kidneys. I thoroughly pooped and wet my diapers, which Christopher realized very quickly. "You pooped your diapers!!!!" he shouted, as he pushed me away. Everyone around laughed loudly at my pathetic act. Noses were pinched. "Get off the floor little miss poopy pants. You stink!!!" called a couple nearby me. I hung my head and cried and went to a seat near the corner of the gym to sit.
"Not so fast, you pathetic little miss poopy pants!" I heard Ashley call. "You're not getting off that easily fairy boy!"
I spent the remaining hour of the dance standing in the corner, holding the back of my petticoats and dress up to display my stinky, poopy diapered behind to everyone. Maybe dancing would have been better, I thought.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part17
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/25/2005 20:00:01 [-04][new]
The following Monday, the entire school was a buzz about Friday night's dance and the performances of we three sissy boys. Many kids insisted that we wear our frilly ensembles to school again, and very soon. Our mentors assured them that would, indeed, happen again before long. I surely did not want to wear my hideous pageant/party dress again, and neither did Denise. But Erica, the little priss, thought the idea was a great one.
As the week's humiliations progressed, a surprising thing happened (though, perhaps, I shouldn't have been so surprised, in hind sight). Sam, Erica's "date" at the dance, started hanging around, as much as he could, with we three sissies and our mentors. Ashley, Becky and Megan allowed him to. Erica was beside himself with joy over it. The two of them actually held hands whenever they were able and Erica sneaked a kiss on the cheek to Sam, whenever he could. What a couple of faggots they were. Our mentors thought it was sweet! At the dance, I had noted that Sam seemed a bit "swishy" and now, I wondered if he wanted to become "Samantha", as our mentors had threatened him, and join our Braid-y Bunch. Probably that's what our mentors had in mind, I thought.
Thursday rolled around, it was the last day of school for the week. Friday was Veteran's Day and school was out in observance of it. At lunch, Ashley dropped a "bombshell" to Denise, Erica and me. "Guess what, fairy boys? Caroline's older sister Ellie, she's in high school, called me last night!" I could tell Ashley was quite flattered to have been called by an older high school girl. She continued and gushed, "Ellie, with her mother's permission, has invited all of us over tonight for a slumber party. Of course, you don't really need an invitation Caroline since you live there. But anyway---Ellie's best friend, Jessica will be there as well. Ellie and Jessica are so cool! AND, you're gonna love this Erica---you sissy faggot, your boyfriend Sam is coming too. Isn't that GRRRRRREAT!" Megan, Becky and Erica, at least thought so. Denise and I certainly didn't. Ashley continued, "We're gonna have such a girlish time! All the arrangements and permissions for everyone have been made. Seven o'clock tonight everybody!"
That evening, I was dressed identically as I was for the Fall Harvest Dance. "Have to look extra special!" Ellie said, as she and Jessica primped over me. "Denise and Erica will be wearing their lovely dresses from last Friday too." she added. By 7:30, everyone had arrived, including Sam. He seemed so out of place amongst all us "girls".
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The Braid-y Bunch--part18
Username: sissycaroline , Nov/26/2005 17:19:05 [-04][new]
My mentor Ashley, along with Ellie and Jessica, sensed that Sam felt awkward and out of place in this "haven of femininity". Ellie, with a surprisingly loving and gentle demeanor, spoke up, "Sam, you seem to look like you don't feel as if you fit here with all us GIRLS. That's understandable. It must seem odd to you." He shook his head--yes. She continued, "Well Sam, the fact that you agreed to come at all, leads me to think that you are pleased to be here and, perhaps, you'd feel more comfortable if you were more like us." Ellie was being very endearing. "Sam," Ellie continued, "Would you feel more comfortable if you were 'Samantha' instead of Sam? Caroline has lots of clothes you could wear."
Sam did not seem shocked by the question. Instead, he hung his head, shamefully, and muttered; "I'm not sure." Erica pounced on the opportunity. "Pwease, pweety, pwetty pwease, be Samantha for us Sam. You'll wove being her. You'll make such a pwetty, widdle girl Sam!" Erica chimed, in her best little girl lisp, and then kissed him on the cheek and took his hand.
Sam, still tearing and avoiding any eye contact, again muttered, "I don't know. Boys aren't supposed to want to dress like girls and be sissies like Erica, Denise and Caroline." It was this exact point that really stunned me. Why would a boy like Sam, of his own volition, even remotely contemplate becoming like us? I was forced and he's being given a choice. It was nuts.
Ashley soothed Sam by saying, "It's alright Sam, we promise. We all know you want to join the ranks of The Braid-y Bunch, as they're sometimes called. Give in to it, even if only for tonight! Become Samantha."
Ashley lifted his chin up and, graciously, wiped away his tears. "How about it, SAMANTHA? We promise it'll be fun!" Little did Sam know, as he agreed to become Samantha, that the "fun" would only be for the girls and not, at all, for us sissy boys. "You do understand Samantha, that you'll have to wear diapers and plastic rhumba panties like Erica, Denise and Caroline?" Ellie added.
"Do I have to use them?" he pitifully asked. "Of course Sweetie, that's what they're for." Ellie answered. "It's not so bad." Erica offered. Yeah, right, you sissy pervert, I thought. You would enjoy wet, stinky, poopy diapers!
"Alright then." Samantha said, his spirits seeming to pick up. "God, you're crazy!" I mumbled to myself.
The pink baby blanket was then spread on the living room floor, as it had been hundreds of times before for me. "Take all his clothes off girls and we'll diaper and pantie the sissy!" Ellie said, with an almost immediate sense of harshness. He was shocked at his sudden nakedness and tried to cover his privates with his hands. "Stop that, sissy boy. Little girls like you have no sense of modesty!" Becky admonished, as she slapped his hands. "Lay on your baby blankie, butt down, pansy Samantha." she added. He did as he was told, and I could sense, already, an element of fear in his face. His wiener was pointed straight up, to his chagrin. "See sissy Samantha, your little girlie wiener is having fun!" Megan giggled. Jessica then took over, "Erica, Denise and Caroline. You sissies are in charge of diapering this pathetic little fairy boy. You know the drill, only too well girls." By now, Samantha knew he had gotten in over his head and was helpless to change the course of events and started to sob. (Daaaaah, I thought, what did you expect?)
Erica took charge of the diapering. Fine with me, I had no desire to diaper anyone, much less a boy. I'm sure Denise felt likewise. But Erica couldn't wait to get his hands on Samantha's girlie wiener. Erica immediately bent down and kissed the tip of his saluting, little soldier and then wrapped his mouth over it. "Stop it, you little faggot sissy!" Ellie said as she swatted Erica's behind.
Powdered and diaper ointment applied, Sam was heavily diapered in Depends and a pair of my pink, frilly rhumba panties were fitted to him. A training bra of mine was next, followed by a pair of my pink laced anklets and my pink, patent leather Maryjanes. He stood there looking like a "deer in headlights". When the girls started lifting voluminous petticoats over him, he cried out in horror, "No, please, I've changed my mind!!!!" Ashley countered, "Too late now, you pathetic, pansy faggot. You're gonna look just like your sissy boy sweetie, Erica, when we're done with you!" And she swatted his frilly fanny. Samantha cried uncontrollably. The final garment was my pink satin, little girl's party dress. He continued to wail in horror, as the sissy dress was fitted to him. Another heavy swat to his fanny helped quiet him. When the sash bow was tied, Samantha was declared ready for makeup and hairdo.
Our TORmentors took the task of thoroughly covering his head with my pink, medium sized rollers. His hair wasn't that long, but long enough for the rollers to be wound to produce a full head of "little girl" curls. They did use generous amounts of a stiff, styling gel. They, purposely, wound his rollers very tightly--to create tight curls and to create pain for the new sissy boy. When Samantha bellowed in pain, Ashley scolded him. "You better stop all your complaining, little Miss Priss, or we'll find a way to see that you start attending school as the fourth member of THE BRAID-Y BUNCH!!!!! You know we can do that!" With that said, Samantha complained very little the rest of the night and accepted his girlish fate reluctantly.
By the time our mentors completed his hair rolling, Ellie and Jessica, who had been doing his makeup and lipstick and nails, were done. We sissy boys had just been relegated to watching. Spritzed with perfume, Samantha was then placed under a very hot hair dryer for forty five minutes, so his curls would set tightly and well. He sobbed underneath the dryer the entire time. We all just set about getting out food and drinks for the night, while Samantha's curls "cooked".
When time was up under the hair dryer, the pathetic sissy creature was whisked to the dressing table again for his comb out. The rollers and stiff gel and hair dryer had really done their jobs. He now sported a head full of little girlish curls that, almost, rivaled Erica's permed ringlets and sausage curls. Ellie, Jessica and our mentors beamed with pride over a job well done. Samantha groaned and cried loudly when he saw his reflection in the mirror. He sobbed even more when Ellie tied a huge, pink floppy ribbon bow to the top of his curled head. A gold necklace and matching gold, clip on earrings finished his new persona. Poised in front of the full length mirror, Samantha beheld himself fully, for the first time and begged, "Please, please, change me out of this!" With a swat to his diapered and frilled fanny, Ashley warned, "Shut up pansy, or you'll find yourself in school like this! And remember, little girly boys like you only speak when they're spoken to, so not another word."
Becky suggested that he practice curtsying while he was in front of the mirror. "Great idea Becky!" Ashley said. "Do one hundred curtsies in front of the mirror. And count them off as you go. I'm sure you know how to curtsy like a proper little girl from watching your fellow sissy boys, but just in case, Caroline will do the first fifty along side you as demonstration." Oh crap, I thought. "Oh, and while you're curtsying girls, I want you each to say with every curtsy---I LOVE BEING A PRETTY, PRISSY LITTLE GIRL! Now begin and remember Caroline, you can stop after fifty."
"One, I love being a pretty, prissy little girl." Curtsy. "Two, I love being a pretty, prissy little girl." Curtsy. "Three, I love.........." And so on it went until fifty for me, and one hundred for Samantha.
When Samantha finished his curtsying ordeal, he was very red faced with embarrassment and he seemed to fidget somewhat. It increased as Erica held his hand and walked him back to the living room. As Samantha was stood in front of the dining room table where drinks and snacks were placed, he declined any food or drink. And he almost seemed to be doing a little dance. "Well, well well!" Ellie giggled. "Does our little miss prissy Samantha need to use her diaper?" He said nothing and just hung his head in shame, and fidgeted more. Words weren't needed. He was doing the "I need to mess my didee" dance. "Listen up everyone. Samantha is about to have a very special first event, at least since he was a real baby!" Ellie laughed. "She needs to use her diaper for the first time. How special!!!!" The girls applauded. Ellie thought for a moment and then gave an evil grin.
"I have an idea. Let's make a contest out of this. Listen up girls. Now, any girl wearing diapers, come form a straight line facing the rest of us.---Now, let's see, that would certainly be you Samantha and who else could there be?????" Ellie was really playing this up for all it was worth. "Oh of course, silly me, Caroline, Denise and Erica---front and center too!" The girls roared at Ellie's antics. She continued, "Now listen well, sissy boys, on the count of three, you are to wet and poop your diapers as quickly as possible. The first three sissies to fully wet and poop themselves will only be made to wear their stinky mess for an hour. After that, they'll be cleaned and changed for the night and allowed snacks and drinks and TV. But the last sissy to mess himself, will remain in his wet, poopy, stinky mess until morning before being changed. And the loser will get NO snacks and drinks and TV and will sit in the corner in his stinky, poopy wet diapers all evening and be put to beddy bye in them. Sound like fun sissies?" None of us replied, not even Erica.
"Okay gentlemen, start your engines--ah--I mean--ah--bowels and kidneys, I guess. One, two, three--GO!" The room exploded with laughter as we tried to explode into our diapers. As horrific as this humiliation was, none of us wanted to spend the whole night in our mess. Samantha was easily the first place winner, as he had a head start, you could say. He had very quickly and totally wet and pooped himself and was crying miserably over his humiliating first experience in using a diaper. Denise, about a minute later, completed his diaper soiling and was also bawling like a baby. Erica and I were neck and neck for a while, but I was still only just finishing wetting by the time Erica had totally relieved himself. I had lost. "Well, at least you've had a lot of experience sleeping in wet, messy diapers darling!" I heard mom call from the kitchen doorway where she had been watching the proceedings. "And, at least, you can sleep in your room where you won't offend everyone else with your stinky mess." she added. It was little comfort to me.
The wooden play pen was placed in the corner, near a window which was cracked open, despite the November chill. This was done so as to less offend the delicate noses of the girls. We four poopy, wet stinky sissy boys were crammed into it, three of us for just an hour. Me, until bedtime. We had to endure not only our own stinky diapers, but each other's too. We felt like we were sitting in the middle of a sewer. It was awful and I was glad when the hour was up, but not as glad as Erica, Denise and Samantha, who would be cleaned and changed and spend a more comfortable night than I would.
I remained in the playpen, suffering my mess with nothing to eat and drink, while the girls watched TV and chatted. The girls had Erica and Samantha and Denise set their hair and paint their nails and toe nails and serve them drinks and food like some kind of little sissy maids. They kept the sissy boys "hopping." Who knows, I thought. Maybe I was better off where I was. At midnite, I was sent to my room to change into my nitey. Then to the bathroom to wash off my makeup. "Be sure to set your hair Caroline, like the rest of us girls!" Ellie instructed. With my hair set in pink rollers and my face cleaned, I left the bathroom and headed for my room. "Sweet dreams, or I guess I should say stinky dreams Caroline!!!" Ellie teased as I entered my room. Everyone roared with laughter. I don't know how much longer the rest of the girls and sissies stayed up, but at least, I was done for the night---except for the struggle of getting to sleep in rollers and messy diapers. But as mom had said, I was pretty used to it and mercifully fell to sleep fairly quickly.
Surprisingly, I didn't wake up until almost eleven the next morning. I had slept like a baby (no pun intended). I guess I was just so wiped out from last night's humiliating tortures. I exited my stinky room and was again quite surprised to find that everyone was gone. Ellie and mom were finishing cleaning up from the party. "Go bathe Caroline, you stink! And then I'll diaper you." mom ordeYes mom." I gladly obliged. As I cleaned myself thoroughly of my mess, I wondered what was to become of red. "Samantha. Maybe on Monday I'd find out, I thought.
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The Braid-y Bunch--part19The Braid-y Bunch--part19
Username: sissycaroline , Dec/6/2005 20:50:19 [-04]
The following Wednesday afternoon, I came home from school to discover my
mother seated on the couch chatting with another woman and her daughter,
who appeared to be about my age. "Oh, perfect timing, here's my sweet
little girl now!" mom gushed to the woman. "Come over Caroline and meet
our two guests."
"This is my son, Caroline." mom said and the girl giggled. "Greet them
properly Caroline," and I dropped a girlish curtsy, to the broad grins of
the woman and her daughter. "Caroline, I'd like you to meet Mrs. Harper
and her daughter, Melissa. They are your friend Sam's mother and sister."
I could see the family resemblance. "They've come over to get some advise
and ideas from us."
Mrs. Harper interjected at this point. "Oh my goodness, he's so
lovely---just perfect!" The compliment was unappreciated by me. Mrs.
Harper continued, "As you may know, Caroline, my son Sam got into big
trouble at school this morning." I knew Sam had spent the afternoon in the
office, but didn't know why and Mrs. Harper wasn't forth coming as to the
details of the trouble Sam had gotten into. But I knew my mentor Ashley
had to have been behind it. "I have spoken with the school principal and,
with his okay, have decided that Sam needs to receive a very severe
punishment for his awful behavior." My curiosity really peaked as to what
he had done, though Mrs. Harper still offered no hint. "Sam," she
continued, "will be attending school, from now on, as SAMANTHA. And your
mother has, graciously, agreed to help."
"He's gonna be a new member of the BRAID-Y BUNCH!" squealed the delighted
Melissa. And with that, mom told me to bend over. "Please no!" I moaned,
not wanting to be humiliated in front of Mrs. Harper and Melissa. "Hush
Caroline, or I'll pull your panties and diapers down and spank your girly
behind." mom admonished. I complied and mom lifted the back of my skirt
and petticoat up.
"As you can see Mrs. Harper, my sissy son is fully diapered and always
wears frilly, rhumba style diaper panties. A petticoat is always worn
under his skirt to school to hide the bulge of it. In fact, he wears and
uses his diapers at all times, 24-7. He hasn't used a toilet since the end
of last June! I would advise the same for your son Sam. I sometimes will
additionally punish Caroline for misbehaving by making him spend hours or
even over night in his wet, soiled diapers. It's a good threat to hold
over him, as he hates to spend time in his messy, stinky diapers."
This was all quite embarrassing for me, especially in front of Melisssa,
but mom continued. "Caroline's sister or I always change him, but not
until he has thoroughly showered and cleaned himself up and disposed of
his messy diapers. We won't deal with his messy bottom. You should do the
same with your son. Come and let me show you Caroline's extensive
wardrobe."
Mother showed Mrs. Harper and Melissa all my girlish outfits. As they
toured my closet, mom said, "My beauty parlor would be glad to perm Sam's
hair into some nice, tight ringlets and sausage curls."
Mrs. Harper replied "Yes, that's a great idea!" And ten minutes later,
Mrs. Harper and Melissa left, after thanking my mother, over and over, for
her help and suggestions. As they left, I heard Melissa say, "I can't wait
to diaper and dress up Samantha mom!" Maybe, I wondered, Sam couldn't wait
too.
-
The Braidy-Bunch--part20--the endThe Braidy-Bunch--part20--the end
Username: sissycaroline , Dec/6/2005 21:57:06 [-04]
The next day, Thursday, Sam was not in school at all. But I did learn that
Ashley and Becky and Megan, our mentors, were indeed responsible for the
trouble Sam had gotten into. No surprise there, but I did not learn the
specifics of it. They were very tight lipped about that.
But on Friday morning, as I made my way down the aisle to the back of the
bus, sure enough, there sat a very tearful and shamed Sam. He was dressed
similarly to me and Erica and Denise and sported a head full of tight,
light brown, permed ringlets and sausage curls; capped off with a huge,
floppy ribbon bow. And he didn't look happy about it. Although, Erica
seemed quite pleased; as well as our mentors and Sam's sister, Melissa.
Turns out that Melissa was actually Sam's twin and would be his mentor.
Sam and his mentor, Melissa, couldn't follow the rest of us all around at
school because they were seventh graders, a year younger than us, and had
a different schedule of classes, of course.
As the school year slowly and painfully and humiliatingly progressed, more
and more errant boys joined the ranks of The Braid-y Bunch. My mom seemed
to have started a "fad" in regards to the punishment of ill-behaved boys.
As the year began to wind down, I started to wonder about the next school
year. I'd be a freshman in high school. Would I be going off to high
school as Caroline or Carl? I certainly hoped I'd go as Carl. But, I hoped
that if I had to continue as Caroline, I'd at least have more grown up
clothes that would be more age appropriate, and NO diapers and rhumba
panties. I so feared and dreaded the thought of continuing my schooling
and life as the fruit loop known as "Caroline".
THE END