Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: BetBots on February 11, 2006, 08:15:44 PM
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Braids and Beyond Parts 1-7
sissycaroline
It was the end of June, 1980 and the start of a much awaited summer vacation. My name was Carl and I had just turned thirteen and would enter eighth grade in the Fall. I lived with my mother (who had divorced my father years earlier) and my pain in the butt sister Ellie, who was sixteen. I was a small, scrawny, skinny kid. As was the fashion of the rock "hair bands" of the day, I had long, straight brown hair that reached to a couple of inches below my shoulders. My mother was always after me to get it cut and I was always resisting. On the first Saturday of vacation, she gave me money and told me to walk to the barber shop for a haircut. Instead, I walked to the mall for a movie and lunch. When I came home, she really blew her stack. She was so angry that she did something she hadn't done since I was a very little boy. Being a fairly large and strong woman, (and me, small and scrawny), she easily picked me up, carried me fighting and kicking into her bedroom and sat down on the chair in front of her dressing table with me across her lap. She then pulled down my pants and underwear, took her hairbrush and began mercilously blistering my bare bottom. As I screamed and cried and begged her to stop, she told me that this wasn't to be my only punishment. When my spanking was finally done, she stood me up, pulled up the underwear and pants over my bright red bottom and told me to sit on the chair, facing the mirror on her dressing table. As tears of pain and humiliation streamed down my face, she told me that she wouldn't fight with me anymore about getting my hair cut and I would have my way and keep it long. In fact, she informed me that I wouldn't be allowed to have it cut until further notice. However, she would be in charge of how my long hair would be worn, with no exceptions. She said that since I had long, "girlish" hair like a little girl's, I would wear it all summer, at all times, in a very little girl style. This was to be the rest of my punishment. She then picked up a rattail comb, deftly parted my hair down the middle in a nice straight line, and proceeded to braid each half into a long braid starting behind the top of each ear. She secured each braid at the end with a rubber band. She told me that if I complained about my new hair style or argued with her about it or misbehaved in any way or tried to undo my braids, there would be additional punishments centered around my new braided look. I was horrified, to say the least. Unknown to me, my rotten sister Ellie had been listening to everything from outside the bedroom, relishing everything my mother said and did to me. My mother told me I could leave and go to the bathroom and wash up for dinner. As I left the room, Ellie had a devilish grin on her face and said, "Love the braids Sis!"
Part 2
Dinner that evening was an absolute horror. My sister spent the whole time teasing me about my braids. "You look adorable in braids Sis" or "you need some hair barrettes and ribbons in your braids" or "how'd you like some "girlie" bangs across your forehead" were just some of her cutting remarks. I knew she was egging me on to trip me up and get me in trouble so I would receive an additional punishment. I think my mother was in on it too because she did nothing to stop Ellie from teasing me so. The final straw was when Ellie said "mom, I don't think that Carl is an appropriate name for such a pretty little girl. I think we should call him Caroline from now on." I pounded my fists on the table and shouted to Ellie to "shut the f--- up and leave me alone." Mom hit the ceiling. She grabbed hold of one of my braids(a control factor that she would use a lot in the future) and pulled me over to the sink and told me to open wide. She placed a bar of soap from the counter into my mouth and told me to keep there until she said otherwise. With tears streaming down my face, she pulled me by my braid back to my seat at the table and told me to sit there like a "good little girl" while she and Ellie finished their dinners. "A nice mouthful of soap will help cure your potty mouth Caroline," she said. Mom's use of the name "Caroline" made me shudder. Ellie was beaming with delight over what she had caused to happen to me. While I sat there, I wondered if this was one of the "additional punishments" she had mentioned earlier. But it couldn't be because those punishmnets were meant to last all summer long. I knew she couldn't keep a bar of soap in my mouth all summer. It wasn't long before I found out what the additional punishment was to be. After dinner was done and the dishes were cleared, mom once again took hold of one of my braids, told Ellie to follow, and pulled me into her bedroom (soap still in my mouth) and seated me in front of her mirror. She then undid my braids allowing my hair to hang loose. I hadn't a clue what she was up to. She went to her closet and returned with a box full of medium sized pink clip-on hair rollers. She asked Ellie to assist her and Ellie, of course, happily complied. They both proceeded to very tightly wind the pink rollers in my hair bringing tears to my eyes from the pain and the extreme humilation it caused. My mother told me to pay close attention to how they were setting my hair because in the future, I would be setting my hair like this each night. This was to be my first "additional punishment"--setting and wearing rollers in my hair to bed each night. When my head was covered in the awful pink rollers, a pink hairnet was placed over them to help keep hold them in place. They had not used any kind of setting gel or even water because the purpose wasn't to really curl my hair (mom was well pleased with my "braided" look). The purpose was to further humiliate me as a girl. Ellie gushed, "Oh, don't you feel so girlish now Caroline!" I struggled to not hit her. The soap was removed. I was then sent off to bed, thankful that they hadn't made me wear a nitey or some such thing. It took forever to fall asleep. Not surprising given the humiliating events of the day and the pain and discomfort of my rollers. As I layed there, I wondered how I would be perceived in public or how I could explain my new look to others. I couldn't stay in the house all summer, and mom wouldn't allow that anyways. At least, my rollered head wouldn't be seen in public, I hoped. I rationalized to myself that people might think that I was going for a "Willie Nelson" look or at least I could explain it that way.
Part 3
Waking the next morning after a fitful sleep, my thoughts focused on my pink rollers and hairnet and the discomfort and embarrassment they caused me. My second thought was that it was Sunday and I hoped my mother wouldn't want to go to church. I was never eager to go to church but especially not in braids. I headed for the kitchen for some breakfast. Mom and Ellie were at the table eating theirs. I sat at the table to have some cereal. Ellie mockingly asked, "Did you sleep well Caroline?" "No, and don't call me Caroline. I'm not a girl," I replied. "Well, you must be a girl since your wearing rollers and a hairnet--CAROLINE," she gloated. I didn't press the issue for fear of receiving another horrifying punishment. After breakfast, mom told me to get dressed for church and then she and Ellie would remove my rollers and braid my hair. Crap! We were going to church. I dressed in my usual church clothes--slacks, dress shirt, and loafers and reported to my mother's room. Mom and Ellie removed my rollers and began braiding my hair. My mom told me to pay close attention because soon I would have to do the braiding myself. The thought of me, a thirteen year old boy braiding his hair made me feel like the biggest sissy alive. With my braiding finished, we left for church. During the ride, I thought again of how I would explain my braids as "going for a Willie Nelson look" if anyone asked why I was in braids. Ironically, I hated country/western music. At church, I was the recipient of many stares, giggles, and a fair number of wisecracks from kids. "Love the braids sweety" or "Ask your mommy to put some pretty ribbons in them" or "Mommy needs to get you a pretty dress to wear" were just a few of them. No one asked me why I was in braids but some adults asked my mom and she simply said to them that I was being punished for refusing to get a haircut. Riding home, she pulled into a drug store, took me by the hand (at least it wasn't a braid) and walked me into the drug store like I was a little girl. Ellie followed. We walked to the cosmetics/hair accessories area where she picked up a package of pink barrettes, two clip-on pink hair bows, makeup, mascara, eye shadow and liner, pink lipstick, and matching pink nail polish. She held them up to my face and said, "These are for your next punishment Missy, so you better be a very good little sissy!" She then gave me some money and made me go to the checkout and pay for them myself. The young girl behind the register giggled as she rang up the items. It was quite obvious to her that the girlish items were for me. I wanted to die. Tears started to trickle down my face. "I'm sorry I made you cry sweety, but they'll make you look so pretty," I heard her say as I exited the store. The humiliation was unbearable. Ellie, as usual, was grinning with joy over my embarrassment. Mom was silent. I cried like a little girl all the way home. Braids were bad enough but the thought of wearing pink barrettes and ribbons, makeup, lipstick, and nail polish was unimaginable. I couldn't let that happen to me. I figured that Ellie was probably thinking that she couldn't NOT let that happen to me. Arriving home, I went to my room to change into more comfortable clothes and sulk. On the way, I heard Ellie ask my mom if she could invite a few of her girlfiends over to listen to some new cassette tapes she had just bought. Mom said sure. Oh God, I can't be seen in braids by her friends, I thought. I figured I'd just stay in my room. Of course, I was wrong. Within an hour, they arrived. After a while, Ellie asked my mom if her friends could meet her new, pretty little sister. Mom thought that was a great idea. She knocked on my door and shouted, "Come out here please Caroline and meet Ellie's friends!" I shouted back, "No way in hell!" With that she burst into my room, grabbed a braid and pulled me past the giggling girls into the kitchen and inserted the bar of soap from the counter into my mouth. She then dragged a kitchen chair and me into the living room, told Ellie to get the hairbrush, put the chair down and sat in it with me across her knee and gave me another blistering, bare butt spanking in front of the girls. Despite the blistering assault to my butt, it couldn't be as red as my face was. Then she stood me up and sat me in the chair with my pants and underwear still down around my ankles and told Ellie to get the things we bought at the drug store. Naked from the waist down, I had to sit there in front of Ellie's friends. I was disturbed to discover that my little "Willie" was was getting a "stiffie". It didn't go unnoticed by the girls either. Jessica, a particularly pretty friend of Ellie's who I had actually fantasized about gushed, "Look at his little "girlie" weiner, it's getting hard. He's enjoying this!" How could I be enjoying this humilating treatment? Next, my mother surprisingly undid my braids. Then she took the hairbrush and brushed some of my hair down across my forehead. Ellie handed her a pair of scissors and she cut deep bangs across my forehead, just above my eyebrows. She redid my braids, fixed the pink barrettes into my hair and finished it with a pink bow at the end of each braid. Using tweezers, she plucked my eyebrows into a girlish curve and told the girls to get the cosmetics we bought at the drug store and put them to good use. An hour later, the girls had my face fully made up, including pink cupid's bow lips and matching nail polish on my fingers and toes. How could I spend the entire summer like this? "PLEASE GOD, LET THE EARTH OPEN UP AND SWALLOW ME!"
Part 4
I was stood back up and my underwear and slacks were put back in place. As mom was pulling them up, I heard Tiffany, another of Ellie's friends remark, "He sure has a little "girlie" wiener, no wonder his mom has him in braids and ribbons. She'll probably have him in petticoats and party dresses before long--at least I hope. He'd look so cute!" The girls all roared with laughter and agreement. Mom was silent but I saw a scary grin come to her face. From the neck up, I looked like a very prissy, sweet little girl. But from the neck down, I looked like the thirteen year old boy that I really was. What a conflict in terms. I felt like some kind of freak in a circus sideshow. As supper time was nearing, mom ordered pizza. Forty five minutes later, the doorbell rang. The pizza had arrived. Mom handed me money for the pizza and a tip and told me to go pay for it and bring it into the kitchen. I moaned and she glared at me. I knew I didn't dare complain and answered the door. The look on the delivery boy's face was one of awe and surprise followed by laughter. I handed him the money. He handed me the pizza. "Thanks cutey," he chuckled as he returned to his car. Would they ever ease up on this humiliation? Around the dinner table the girls all talked about typical "girlie" things but the hottest "girlie" topic was me, of course. After supper, it was decided that I should start setting my hair in my awful pink rollers. The girls would supervise, assist, instruct, and of course humiliate me all through the process. At my mother's dressing table, I fumbled with the rollers and struggled to place and wind them right. The girls insisted that they be properly placed and tightly wound (to cause me pain, no doubt). After an hour of this torture, the last roller was finally in place. Ellie handed me my hairnet which I carefully stretched over my rollered head. Mom stood me up and told me to take all my clothes off and said she'd be back in a minute with my pajamas. I begged her to let me undress in private but, of course, was denied. The girls giggled as my little "girlie" wiener and butt were again exposed to their ridicule. Mom returned with the pajamas but they certainly weren't mine. To my horror, she held out a very frilly, lacy, short, sheer, see-through pink nitey with a matching pair of bum-ruffled panties and told me to put them on. Anxious as I was to put something on, this sure as hell wasn't what I had in mind. "I can't, I can't," I sobbed. Mom's answer was, "Okay girls, help him into his nitey." They surrounded me and wrestled the pink panties on to me and while working the nitey down over my head and shoulders, my thrashing caused a rip in it along one of the seams. I thought mom would blow her top again. But to my surprise, she remained calm. That seemed to cause everyone, including me, to be still. She told Ellie to get her sewing kit (I was glad it wasn't her hairbrush) and using a needle and pink thread, began mending the tear. As I stood there in the relative hush (mom sewing away), my "Willie" was beginning to get hard and was creating a large bulge in my sheer pink panties. The girls tittered like little school girls and I heard one of them whisper, "You're right Jessica, the little sissy does enjoy this." How wrong she was. As mom was finishing the repair, I thought about how this was the first time she made me wear girl's clothes and I hoped it would be the last. When the repair to my nitey was done, my mother told me to go into the living room and stand there and asked the girls to sit in a circle around me. As I walked to the living room, my throbbing "stiffie" bounced and dangled around as the girls tittered even more. Standing erect (in both senses of the word), encircled by the softly giggling girls, my mother told me that the rip in my nitey had, of course, earned me another punishment. My punishment was that tomorrow morning, she and Ellie would take me to the "Piercing Pagoda" at the Mall and have my ears pierced and have pretty, little girl earrings placed in them. Ellie's girlfriends were invited to attend. We'd be there at 11:30. The girls all clapped and laughed and agreed to definitely attend the "Piercing Party" as one of them called it. I just hung my rollered head in shame and cried. I was dismissed to bed and Ellie's friends went home. As I laid in bed, many thoughts ran through my mind like "I was now wearing a girl's nitey, would mom dress me up in petticoats and party dresses like Tiffany suggested" or "Ear piercing would leave permanent holes" or "My bangs weren't permanent but would take a long time to grow out, as would my arched eyebrows. How would I be able to go back to being a real boy in the Fall?" And most of all, I thought "How can I survive tomorrow at the Mall?" I prayed the sun would never rise. But it did, with a knock on the door and a call from my mother. "Wakey, wakey Caroline. I want you up early. You're going to do your own hair and makeup and, being your first time, it will certainly take a while. Up and at 'em Missy!" She sounded jubilant. I certainly didn't feel like that. After a breakfast for just the two of us, mom told me to go to her room and start removing my rollers. Ellie was up by now. After my rollers were removed, I was told to shower and wash my hair with a very "perfumey" shampoo my mom had given me and to use a creme rinse/conditioner that would make my hair shiny and tangle free. Like I really cared about that. I was warned to leave the conditioner in my hair for five minutes before I rinsed. I grudgingly did as I was told. When done, I put my nitey and panties back on. I figured that would be what my mother would want. Back in her bedroom, she seated me on her bed and towel dried my hair and then used a blow dryer to finish. Then over to the all too familiar dressing table for my braids. It took me many, many tries and a lot of help from mom to get my hair properly parted and the braiding was even more tedious and time consuming. Mom expected me to braid my hair as perfectly as she did. "I want your hair to be perfect for your new earrings," she gushed. Putting the barrettes in and the pink hair ribbons at the braid ends was simple enough. "What a sissy they've made me. I'm a boy putting pink bows at the end of his braids," I thought as we moved on to my makeup. The makeup was especially difficult. I did try hard and listened to my mother, but in the end, she wound up doing most of it. It would take a while before I could do the hair and makeup thing by myself. As I stood up to go back to my room to dress, she gave me a gentle swat on my behind and, before I knew it, she sprayed some perfume behind my ears. "My little girl needs to smell sweet for her ear piercing," she chimed. "Off you go Missy." It was good to get out of my embarrassing nitey and panties and into my regular boy's clothes, despite the conflict in terms with the way I looked from the neck up. On the ride to the Mall, I accepted the fact that I would be perceived as nothing other than what I was--not a boy--not a girl--but something in between. A GREAT BIG PATHETIC, SIMPERING SISSY!!!! I cried all the way there. With one hand in Ellie's and one hand in mom's, my head hung low with tears of shame pouring from my eyes; I was paraded through the Mall to the sounds of laughter, teasing, catcalls, giggling, name calling, awful wisecracks and looks of disbelief and surprise and scorn and finger pointing. I looked up as little as possible but I'm sure I saw some kids from my school a couple of times. I hoped they hadn't recognized me. As we walked to the "Piercing Pagoda", my mom stopped briefly in front of a small store called "The Party & Pageant Dress Boutique". A sign in the window said "We specialize in Party and Pageant dresses for girls of all sizes and ages". There were numerous frilly little girl dresses displayed in the window. I saw the same smile come to my mom's face that she had yesterday after Tiffany's remarks about dresses and petticoats for me. It made me feel sick to my stomach. We finally reached the "Piercing Pagoda" where all of Ellie's friends were waiting. They greeted us with cheers and applause and lots of giggles. My mother walked me up to the counter and said to the young girl behind it, "My son here would like to have his ears pierced and pick out some pretty earrings for them. Isn't that right sweety?" She really expected no answer back from me and I gave none. The sales girl laughed and said, "I can see why he wants earrings, they'll complete his pretty look." "Come along little girl," she squealed as she took me by my hand. Twenty minutes later, I was sporting a little gold heart in each ear. She gave me a lollipop for being such a brave little girl. Ugh!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was permanent and I was doomed. My ordeal wasn't over. Mom and the girls decided to lunch at the food court to celebrate my newly pierced ears and earrings and to show them off. A little "Piercing Party" as they called it. The humiliation seemed never ending and lunch was pure hell just like everything in the Mall had been. By the time mom and Ellie and I got home, I was totally drained and exhausted. It was still rather early but I begged mom to let me go to bed. To my surprise she said, "Sure Honey." Ellie even offered to help me remove my makeup and set my hair for me because I was so tired. It was the first sign of kindness from anyone since this all began. As I drifted off to sleep in my rollers and nitey, I wondered again why mom stopped at that dress store and had that "smile" on her face.
Part 5
Tuesday, day four of my girlish humiliation dawned bright and sunny with a forecast of temps in the mid eighties. My disposition wasn't as "bright and sunny". In addition to the pain of my rollers and the extreme embarrassment I had gone through in the past three days, I had a slight pain in my newly pierced earlobes. I laid in bed wondering what awful humiliations I'd be subjected to today. At the breakfast table, mom suggested that we all go to the beach today for some swimming and a picnic. Mom had a lot of time to spend with me and Ellie as she was an elementary school teacher and was on summer vacation like us. "Oh God, please not the beach," I thought. With breakfast done, mom sent me to her room for the now usual routine of roller removal and braiding and makeup. She helped me with my braids and ribbons and makeup and smiled as she fondled my newly pierced earlobes and earrings. "Don't you just love 'em?" she gushed. When my hair and makeup were complete, she told me to go to my room and get a beach towel and change into my swim trunks. I started crying. "What's wrong my little sissy Caroline? It's a great day for the beach." she cooed softly into one of my pierced ears. Ellie came into the room at the sound of my crying. "Mom, I can't walk around the beach in my swim trunks," I blubbered, "people might think I'm a girl going topless!" Ellie laughed and said, "Slim chance of that sissy, you don't have any boobies." "But," she added, "you might cause such a commotion that the park security might ask us to leave." Mom thought briefly about what Ellie said and replied, "I'm willing to take that chance. Go put on your trunks Missy." Ellie followed me into my room and offered a suggestion to me. "You know sis, if you wore a girl's bathing suit, you'd attract less attention. I have an old one from years ago that I bet it would fit you." She smiled with a menacing grin. "You'd have to have all your body hair removed though, not that you have that much. Hairy legs and armpits would be a dead giveaway." She continued, "I bet if you asked mom nicely, she'd let you wear my old suit." The idea made me cringe, but I could see the sense in it. I had no other choice. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. Dejected, I returned to mom's room and asked her if I could please wear one of Ellie's old suits. "A frilly nitey and panties and now a girl's swim suit. What's next Caroline? A pretty pink party dress and petticoats?" she asked, with that now all too familiar grin on her face. "No thank you please, mother," I respectfully replied. "You realize Caroline, that all your body hair, including your crotch hair, will have to be removed. "Yes mom, Ellie already told me that."
She pointed toward the bathroom and told me to run a bath and get in and she'd be there in a minute. I hated being naked in front of my mother and asked if I could do, myself, whatever she was going to do to remove my hair. "Nonsense silly, I used to change your diapers," and she paused with that grin on her face. "Besides, I can do it much more effectively and quickly than a little girl like you could." She covered my entire body with some kind of cream solution that had to remain on me for five minutes. When the time was up, she washed and rinsed it all off leaving me totally hairless from the neck down. Mom wrapped a pink bath towel around me and sent me off to her room. My smiling sister soon appeared with my suit in hand. "Isn't this just absolutely scrumptious Caroline?" she squealed as she held it out for my inspection. It was hideous! It was a two piece pink suit with white polka dots. The pants part of it had a large ruffle, almost like a skirt, all around the waist and there were three rows of smaller white ruffles across the seat of it. It SCREAMED little girl. Sensing my dismay from my frown, Ellie snickered, "Sorry sis, it was the only one I could find." (Yeah right, I thought) "It's either this or your boy's trunks young lady." mom admonished, "Besides, it'll look adorable on you." (sure, if I was a five year old little girl) I had no choice and mom and Ellie knew it. Mom removed my towel and pulled the frilly bottom up to my waist. It seemed to fit fairly well--with one exception--the bulge in front (and I didn't even have a "stiffie"). "My, but that won't do. Little girls don't have bulges in their suit bottoms," said mom. She reached into the suit bottom and tucked my wiener up between my legs. I was mortified. That seemed to solve the problem but my little "willie" wouldn't stay in place. Ellie had the solution. She ran to her room and quickly returned with what looked like a pair of her white panties. It was actually a very brief pantie girdle. Once in place under my suit, the problem was fixed. "There, nice and smooth in the front like a little girl should be," exclaimed mom. The top was put on me, as well as a pair of Ellie's sandals that nicely displayed my pink toenails. I was ready. (yeah right) All that was left was for mom and Ellie to get ready and pack a picnic lunch. While I waited, I pondered the upcoming day's events with fear. As much as I hated my girlie bathing suit and my braids and ribbons and everything else, I counted on them to help me pass as a girl and avoid the awful humiliations I experienced at the Mall. With everything finally ready, mom handed me a pink "Smurfette" beach towel with a matching pail and shovel (great--I can dig a hole and crawl inside) that had belonged to Ellie, and we were off. On the way to the beach, we stopped at Jessica's house to pick her up. Ellie had invited her along. (God, she was gorgeous in her bikini!!!!!Yeah right--no chance for a sissy like me in braids and ribbons and panties to get anywhere with a babe like her.) She took a look at me and laughed, "Very cute sweety!" At the beach, thankfully, I didn't get a huge number of stares, but did get a few "questioning" looks from some people. I was small, but not small enough for the age I appeared to be. And I still resembled a boy in some ways and of course, had boyish mannerisms and too deep a voice. There was probably some question in their minds as to whether or not I was a real girl, but they were kept to themselves. But it was certainly better than the horror at the Mall. And the only biting remarks came from Ellie. The charade seemed to be working reasonably well. When I asked mom if I could go swimming, she said sure, but I wasn't to put my head under water and ruin my hair and makeup. As a precaution, she took two hair clips from her purse and attached my braid ends to the top of my head creating two large braid loops. For some reason, this made me feel even more girlish than I already felt. She told Ellie and Jessica to watch me, as she was going to take a walk along the boardwalk on the beach. I waded out to waist deep water and Ellie and Jessica soon joined me. Together we splashed and played a little and chatted a bit. I was enjoying their supposed friendliness. They were actually being nice to me but I was soon to discover that it was all just a trick. Jessica, unknown to me, maneuvered around behind me and she stuck her arms under my armpits and pulled up and held my arms behind my head. I was helpless and there weren't any swimmers in the water near us to see my plight. Then Ellie stuck her face in mine and ranted, "So, you pathetic little pansy, you think you can fool everyone into thinking you're a real little girl. Well, let's just see about that." And with that, she reached under the water and quickly yanked my suit bottom and pantie girdle down and pulled them off. "Pansies get panced!" she laughed as she and Jessica raced back to shore with my suit bottom and girdle. After ten minutes of crying and feeling very cold from the chilly water, I bit the bullet and raced like a bat out of hell to my "Smurfette" beach blanket on the shore. As fast as I was, there was still plenty of time for everyone to see the prissy little girl who had a wiener between her legs. I wrapped up in my blanket to the familiar sounds of laughter and humiliating wisecracks and endless teasing. I heard one woman say to her husband, "See George, I told you she was a boy!" A little girl giggled to her mommy, "Why does that girl have a pee pee between her legs?" Mom, mercifully, returned before too long and upon discovering what the girls had done to me, only mildly scolded them as if it was simply a little, innocent prank. She did suggest, however, that we leave quickly before park security got wind of it. And thankfully, we did. On the ride home, I was so mad that I just didn't care any more. I yelled and screamed and swore at mom and the girls and told them I wasn't going to take this "sissy treatment" crap any longer. They all remained silent until I finally stopped ranting, just as we pulled up to Jessica's house. After dropping her off, mom calmly said, "It was just a harmless prank Caroline." "The f--- it was!" I shouted and I began bawling my eyes out. As we approached the house, mom told me what I had already expected. "Well Missy, you've earned yourself another punishment." An hour later, I laid in bed in my nitey and rollers with the taste of soap in my mouth and my butt on fire and the usual tears and tried to suppress my thoughts about my trip tomorrow to THE PARTY & PAGEANT DRESS BOUTIQUE.
Part 6
"Run, sissy boy, run!"---"Hurry home to your mommy, little girl!"---"Don't mess your pretty dress or your mommy may spank you!"---"Don't cry precious, your mommy will redo your braids and ribbons!" I ran from the taunting, jeering bullies as fast as I could, given the pink patent leather Maryjanes I was wearing and the voluminous white petticoats billowing under my pink satin little girl's party dress. I finally reached the front door of my house, only to discover to my horror, that it was locked. As I screamed in panic, one of the bullies............"Oh, thank God," I thought, as the morning sun peeked through the shades of my bedroom window. "It was only a dream, or nightmare, I should say." I wondered if it could be a sign of things to come. I prayed not. I heard mom call in a rather harsh tone, "Get up sissy boy, we have a lot of shopping to do this morning." I sighed and teared up remembering my punishment---a trip to THE PARTY $ PAGEANT DRESS BOUTIQUE at the Mall. I realized my nightmare was already on course to becoming reality. As I dragged myself from bed to the kitchen for breakfast, mom glared at me and said "Hurry up and eat Caroline. I want to get to the Mall early." Mom was obviously still very angry at me from yesterday. With breakfast done, she sent me to her room for roller removal and said that she and Ellie would do my braids and makeup themselves. "I want your hair and makeup to be absolutely perfect for our shopping trip." Rollers removed, mom told me to bathe and wash and condition my hair. When done and dried, mom and Ellie set to work on me with a vengeance. Hair perfectly parted down the middle, they meticulously braided my hair to the point of making sure that each braid had the exact same number of twists in it. Instead of the clip bows, mom took out two pink satin ribbons that she carefully tied at each braid end, making sure to leave a few inches of ribbon dangling below the bow. Barrettes in place, they carefully did my makeup adding extra blusher (as if I'd need that on my already red, from embarrassment, cheeks). With new pink polish on my fingernails and toenails, and a spritz of perfume behind each ear, I was sent to my room to get dressed. "Wear a nice button down shirt, your tan slacks and a belt, and your loafers." mom said as I left her room for mine. As I finished dressing, I feared this might be the last time I'd wear these or any boy's clothes for the rest of the summer. My stomach churned at the thought. Leaving my room, mom and Ellie hurried me into the car (they were eager to get to the Mall) and off we went. Few words were spoken. I felt like a condemned man walking to the gallows. As we reached the Mall, I braced myself for the incredible humiliation, embarrassment and degradation I would soon suffer. One hand in Ellie's and the other in mom's, I was again paraded through the Mall to the same taunts and jeers and laughter and giggles I had received just a few days earlier. When we reached the Dress Boutique, mom paused briefly at the store window display. Eyeing the ultra-frilly little girl dresses, she grinned. I knew now, without a doubt, what that grin had meant. I'd soon be wearing one of them, or one even more sissyish. As we entered the store, I was pleased to see that it wasn't very busy. Two girls about Ellie's age were browsing and looked up at me in total disbelief. "God, what a pansy he is." one said to the other, who then looked at me and chuckled, "Hope you find yourself a pretty dress "girlie-boy!" A very cute little girl in blond sausage curls and ribbons was looking through a rack of pageant dresses with her mother. She spied me and asked, "Mommy, why does that boy have braids and ribbons? Is he here to buy a pretty dress like me?" As we walked past her, Ellie whispered to here, "He sure is honey." Soon a matronly looking woman, about my mother's age, approached us and introduced herself. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Brinkworth, the owner, how may I help you ladies--er--uh--folks, I mean." Ellie giggled slightly at the way she had struggled with the word "ladies". As Mrs. Brinkworth eyed me with astonishment, mom proceeded to tell her in great length. "My son is wearing braids and ribbons and makeup and earrings for the entire summer as a punishment for refusing to get a haircut. I now feel he needs the appropriate clothes to go along with his girlish hair and face. To that end, I want to buy him the most outrageously frilly and lacy little girl's party or pageant dress, preferably in pink. Lots of ribbons and bows and ruffles. Very full in the skirt to allow for multiple white petticoats. The skirt of the dress should definitely be above the knee and have a long sash that ties in the back. Puffed sleeves are a must. Mom paused to catch her breath. "I want him to be the prissiest, sissiest, frilliest little princess in the world." Mom paused for another breath and continued, "He'll need all the appropriate undergarments--voluminous white, stiff net petticoats that will make his dress flare out almost horizontally to the ground. Frilly, highly ruffled rhumba panties to peek out from under his dress. Lacy white anklets and a training bra and, of course, patent leather Maryjanes to match his dress. A matching purse would be great too. Can you help us?" Mom was exhausted after her lengthy description as was Mrs. Brinkworth after listening to it. I wasn't exhausted, just very sick to my stomach at the thought of "prancing" around in public in such a frilly, girlish "concoction". I started to cry and hung my head in shame. Mrs. Brinkworth replied with a smile, "I'm sure we can help you Madame!" "Splendid." mom said with a grin. "Let me get my tape measure and shoe measure and we'll get her--er--uh--him--uh "the" measurements we need. After I was measured from head to toe, Mrs. Brinkworth and mom searched the racks of dresses and about twenty minutes later, they returned with two identical dresses, except one was pink and the other was light blue. Incredibly, both dresses had virtually every detail my mother had asked for, including matching purses. My mother asked me which one I wanted, pink or blue? I sobbed "Blue." "Great!", she laughed, "Then PINK it shall be. What do you think Ellie?" "Definitely pink, it's the favorite color of little girls." she chimed. Mrs. Brinkworth also agreed with the choice because she had the perfect Maryjanes to match the dress. Next, all the undergarments mom had asked for were gathered. Again, they met all of mom's requirements. One hand in mom's and the other in Mrs. Brinkworth's, Ellie following behind, I was taken to the dressing room for the completion of my "sissification". All of the "girlie" undergarments would be fitted to me first, of course. I was humiliatingly stripped to my birthday suit and the ultra-frilly, bum ruffled "rhumba" panties were pulled up. I started getting a "stiffie". Mrs. Brinkworth exclaimed, "Oh my, does he enjoy this?" Next came my training bra and anklets. At this point, to my absolute horror, Mrs. Brinkworth said we'd have to finish dressing me in the store itself. There wasn't enough space in the confined dressing room for four people and the voluminous petticoats and dress. "Don't make me go out in my girl underwear." I begged mom. But, non the less, moments later I was standing in the store in nothing but my bra and anklets and rhumba panties with my little "girlie" wiener "tenting" the front of them. More customers had come in and they laughed uncontrollably at the erect sissy boy before them. I was actually happy when Mrs. Brinkworth lowered the two massive white petticoats down over my head and around my waist. The petticoats were awful--very stiff (like me) and scratchy on my legs (which I couldn't even see because of them). They billowed out around me in a huge circle, almost parallel to the floor. They bounced and bobbed, swish and swayed and made a rustling sound with every movement I made. Mom made me twirl them for along time to enhance the effect (frou-frou, I think she called it). Through my tears I saw, probably because of the commotion, more people coming in to see the sissy boy swishing and swaying in his mountain of petticoats. Mrs. Brinkworth laughed, "Your son is great for business." Everyone endlessly laughed and cheered my humiliation. Finally, I was allowed to stop my twirling and taken to a chair to be seated to have my Maryjanes put on. I sat down and all my petticoats went up, exposing my panties in a sea of petticoat lace and ruffles. More roars came from the crowd. My Maryjanes were put on and my pink satin party dress was placed on me. Mom tied a huge sissy bow in the sash in back. Mom adjusted my braids and ribbons, wiped my eyes with a tissue, touched up my makeup and applied a fresh coat of lipstick to my cupid's bow lips. I was handed my little purse, which I fumbled with and dropped. I bent over to pick it up and there was even yet greater laughter. Someone in the crowd hooted, "Pretty panties prissy!" I realized my dress was very short and any bend caused my ruffled butt to be in full view. With my purse in hand, all I could do was just stand there, head hung in shame with non-stop tears streaming down my face. Surprisingly, a hush seemed to come over the gathering, but only for a moment. It was broken by the sound of applause for the completion of my "sissification". Now, I had to survive the walk back through the Mall to the car. Mom paid Mrs. Brinkworth and thanked her endlessly. Mrs. Brinkworth said, "Bring the little darling in anytime. We have loads of fashions and styles that the sissy would just love! And oh", she added, "don't forget the clothes he came in with. I'll get them." Mom grinned and replied, "No, don't bother Mrs. Brinkworth, just through them out please." She pointed me toward the door. I gulped!
Part 7
As we left the boutique, mom slid my purse handle up over my wrist and held my hand; Ellie held the other. Stepping into the Mall, the cool air felt good but I was surprised to feel it even up under my dress and petticoats. This disturbed me. It made me realize how "open" I was under my short dress and how vulnerable that made me. (I was soon to find out how right I was too.) We started my "death march" through the crowded Mall and back to the car. Walking caused my dress and petticoats to bounce and bob, and swish and sway even more, and the rustle of my petticoats to be even louder. Even the ribbons in my braids seemed to swish a little. The scratchy, itchy feeling of the stiff netting of my petticoats rubbing against my bare legs was annoying. With both hands held, I could do nothing to try to remedy these things. How could a real girl stand it? That made me wonder if anyone would think that I was a real girl. It wouldn't matter if they did. I'd still be a laughing stock because no girl my age or size would be caught dead in such frilly, sissy attire as mine. As I sashayed (mom's word) along, the usual teasing and taunting and laughter seemed increased. I became aware that mom was walking us in the opposite direction from where we had entered the Mall. When I pointed this out to her, she said, "Sweety, little girl's love to show off their pretty new dresses. We're taking the long way around to give you more time to do that, silly." Two girls walking toward us recognized Ellie from school and stopped to chat. They looked at me, covered their mouths and giggled. After introducing themselves to my mother, one of them asked Ellie, "Is this your little sister?" "No," she replied, "this is my little brother Carl, or "Caroline" as he now prefers to be called. He's always wanted to be a girl and has begged my mom for a long time to let him be one, right mom? (mom just grinned) So she's granting him his wish." Ellie added, "Though, I don't think that he was planning on being a little girl." "Well that's just so sweet!" said the other girl. And she put her face up to mine, gave my rosy cheek a tender pinch and said, "Well Caroline, you certainly ARE a very pretty little girl." I was furious and wanted to tell them that Ellie was lying. I started to speak, "My sister is---" Mom quickly cut me off saying, "Hush up young lady, nobody cares to hear what you have to say!" And she gave me a swat on the back of my dress. As the girls left, I heard one say to the other, "God, what a pathetic little pantiewaist!" As my tormenting "death march" continued, I became aware of the presence of people close behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw the grinning faces of two boys about my age. One winked at me and the other said, "Hi cutie." I turned back around, glad that, at least, I didn't know them. Moments later, the back of my dress and petticoats was flipped up, briefly exposing my ruffled panties. "Stop!" I squealed girlishly. As they made a fast getaway, they shouted back, "Love your pretty panties sissyboy!" Mom and Ellie giggled at my plight. They weren't about to interfere with any humiliating things that might come my way. And with my hands tightly held in theirs, there was no way for me to ward off any such assaults. Of course, that was part of the reason they held my hands. Finally, at long last, I saw "the light at the end of the tunnel". The exit was ahead. A newspaper vending machine was next to it and mom stopped to by one. She fumbled through her purse for some coins. (Come on mom, I want to get out of here, I thought to myself.) Finally finding some, she started plunking them into the coin slot. As she reached to take her newspaper, I felt a hand quickly reach up under the back of my dress and petticoats and into my panties. My bum was given a very hard pinch. I felt long nails biting into my flesh. "Owe!" I shrieked as the young woman responsible exited mumbling, "Sissy pervert!" Mom and Ellie just laughed. My next sensation was a warm, wet feeling in the front of my panties. Oh God! I HAD PEED MY PANTIES. The shock and trauma and pain of the pinch must have caused me to wet myself. I no longer felt like a little girl. Now, I felt like a very, VERY little girl! As we walked through the parking lot, I felt the pee trickling down my legs. As the car came in sight, I felt it trickling into my anklets. It was when we reached the car that mom and Ellie noticed. "Oooooooh Caroline." mom sighed, "You've wet yourself!" Ellie added, "What a little sissy baby!" And I sure felt like one and was crying like one. My "bawling like a baby" wasn't just because I had wet myself, though. It was also because of the next punishment I feared was in store for me.
-
Braids and Beyond--part8Braids and Beyond--part8
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/7/2005 20:10:56 [-04]
Mom quickly addressed my accident. She opened both doors on the passenger
side of the car to provide some privacy. Her concern was not to protect my
dignity, of course. She was worried a passing Mall Security patrol car
would see us and there might be trouble. She told Ellie to see if she
could find something in the car that my wet things could be put in. She
placed me between the two open doors and told me to hold up my petticoats
and dress as high as possible and keep them there. She inspected the
petticoats and dress and was relieved to find them dry. Ellie returned
with the pail left in the car from our beach trip. "Perfect," she told
Ellie. She then removed my Maryjanes which were also dry and gave them to
Ellie. She removed my wet, at the top only, anklets and placed them in the
bucket. She snaked down my wet panties and bucketed them. My little
"girlie" soldier was saluting. "Caroline, when are you going to learn to
control your little sissy wiener?" she snapped. Next, she dug through her
purse and found about half a dozen small packets of moist towelettes and
did manage to clean me pretty completely. Throwing the used towelettes in
the bucket, she placed it in the car and told me to let down my dress and
petticoats. Thirty seconds later, we were on the road. As we left the Mall
parking lot, mom said, "Caroline, you shameful little baby girl, don't you
say a word all the way home. Your sister and I need to discuss your next
punishment, which is more than just a PUNISHMENT. It's , apparently, a
NECESSITY too!" As mom began to talk with Ellie, I sniffled, hung my head
low and pouted, dreading what I'd hear. "Ellie, your little sissy brother
obviously needs diapers, especially when we're out in public." Hearing
that, I almost wet myself again from the horror of the idea. "Besides, she
can't really use public restrooms. Looking like she does, she certainly
doesn't fit in a Men's restroom." Mom continued, "And she's not a real
girl and has no business in a Ladies' restroom. Also, she'd never be able
to manage her dresses and skirts and petticoats to use the toilet." (Oh
hell, I'm getting more girl's clothes I realized.) "That's the NECESSITY
part of it." She continued, "The punishment part is, I think he should be
kept in diapers, and use them for all his bodily functions, 24/7, until
further notice." I was sick with the thought of me, a thirteen year old
boy, wetting and, worse, pooping my diapers like a little baby girl. Mom
asked Ellie, "I'd need your help with diaper changing, what do you think
about my idea?" "Oh God YES!!! Definitely." Ellie was beside herself with
joy over the idea. "Can Jessica help with his diaper changes too?" she
quickly added. "Sure, if she wants too." mom replied. Oh crap (an ironic
use of the word) I thought. The girl of my dreams will be changing my wet,
poopy, stinky diapers too. Pulling into the driveway and going inside, mom
told me to go into the living room and just stand there and wait quietly.
I did as I was told. She handed Ellie the pail of my wet things and asked
her to put them in the washing machine and to set it for the "delicate"
cycle. Mom left for her bedroom. Most of my punishments included a sound,
bare-butt spanking. I hoped this time might be different. As Ellie
returned, so did mom; hairbrush in hand. My hopes were short lived. "Ellie
dear, you've been such a help to me. I think you deserve a reward." mom
said. Handing Ellie the hairbrush she said, "Would you like to do the
honors dear?" Ellie didn't answer. She just raised her eyebrows, smiled
broadly and shook her head "yes". Mom suggested that "over the knee" would
be too c-umbersome for Ellie, given the bulk of my dress and petticoats.
Ellie took her suggestion and bent me over, lifted my dress and petticoats
up over my back and told me to hold them there. Pantie removal, of course,
wasn't necessary. I had none. Being her first time spanking me, she was
very zealous and her blows were worse than mom's. A dozen or more fierce
"whacks" later, mom told me to go stand and put my nose in the corner and
to keep my dress and petticoats held up until told otherwise. "I need to
run some errands for Caroline," she told Ellie. "You're in charge!" As
soon as mom left, Ellie raced for the phone. "You've gotta get over here
fast Jessica. Oh, and bring that new video camera of yours." Twenty
minutes later, the doorbell rang. Jessica laughed uncontrollably at the
sight in front of her and she turned on her video camera. After video
taping my exposed bright red rear end, I was turned around (still holding
my dress and petticoats up in the back) to shamefully face Jessica for
more video taping. Giving the video camera to Ellie for further taping,
Jessica inspected my pink satin party dress and mountainous petticoats.
"My goodness," she gushed, as she pinched my cheek lightly. "What a pretty
dress for such a pretty little girl!" She continued in a sing-songy voice,
"You look so adorable. You must just love your pretty new dress ever so
much sissy boy!" Ellie, of course, was filming all this. Jessica lifted
the front of my dress and chimed, "Oh, and of course, your little "girlie"
wiener loves it too." I was told to let down my dress in the back and
Jessica restored my dress front. "Great idea to bring my video camera
Ellie. Can't wait to share this with others." Jessica added. (Oh God, my
humiliation was now being recorded for any and all to see.) As Ellie
recorded, Jessica instructed me in the "fine art", as she called it, of
curtsying properly like a sweet little girl. After a few dozen tries,
Jessica was satisfied with my curtsies and told me to face the camera and
curtsy deeply and lisp the following words: "I just wuv, ever so much, my
pwetty, pweety new dwess and petticoats and wuv being a pwetty, widdle
thissy boy." I sibilantly recited those awful words over and over again as
I curtsied over and over again into the camera. After what seemed like an
eternity, my mortifying curtsy recital, mercifully, ended when mom
returned from shopping. "Hi girls, I got everything we need for our
PWETTY, WIDDLE THISSY BABY!" she laughingly mocked.
Braids and Beyond--part9Braids and Beyond--part9
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/8/2005 20:22:08 [-04]
Mom, Ellie and Jessica immediately set to work, eager to put all the
things that mom had purchased to their proper use. A soft, pink blanket
was spread across the living room carpet. My dress, petticoats and
training bra were removed, leaving me totally naked. Jessica took charge
of the video camera to record my bitter humiliation. I was told to lie on
the blanket, face up (and, naturally, my sissy wiener was straight up).
Mom brought out her purchases and spread them out along side me. Eyeing
them, I begged, "Please, please no---don't---please don't do this to me!"
Mom's response was the insertion of a pink pacifier into my mouth and the
words, "That should keep you quiet sissy baby. And don't you dare spit it
out!" Handing Ellie a container of Johnson's Baby Powder, she told Ellie
to sprinkle it all over my front, which caused my "girlie" wiener to
become even more erect. From behind the camera, Jessica giggled, "God, he
even enjoys being diapered!" (I definitely was NOT enjoying this, though.)
Then, I was told to turn over, bum up. Mom took a tube of diaper rash
ointment and thoroughly covered my still reddened behind with the greasy
cream. Taking a Depends, size small, adult diaper, she laid it along side
of my waist and told me to roll over on to it. With my bum centered in the
seat of the diaper, she adjusted it and tightly secured the tapes in
place. She then repeated the process with a second Depends. With this, I
thought my diapering was done but I was wrong. She produced a large,
thick, terry cloth diaper with a very thick soaker liner and told me to
lift my bum up. She slid it under my two Depends and secured it tightly
around me with pink diaper pins. Next, she pulled up a pair of clear
plastic, pink diaper pants over all of my diapers, making sure to tuck in
all the edges of the diapers. This had to be it, I thought, but was again
wrong. To finish my diapering, mom told Ellie to get the bag she had left
on her bed. "This will be the icing on the cake!" she laughed. Ellie
swiftly returned with the contents of the bag in her hands. "These are
just soooooo precious mom, he'll look so adorable in them!" Ellie gushed.
"I got them at The Party & Pageant Dress Boutique. They're very, very
similar to his frilly rhumba panties, as you can see, except the inner
pantie is made of leak proof plastic." mom said. "They're for little girls
in beauty pageants who sometimes have accidents while on stage. They're
really diaper rhumba panties." mom added. I sobbed heavily as the ultra
frilly, lacy diaper panties were pulled up over my bulging diapers. Mom,
next, put my now laundered anklets on my feet and buckled on my pink
Maryjanes. As I was stood up, I was acutely aware of my bowed legs which
was caused by my heavily diapered waist. After refitting my girlish
training bra, mom placed a very filly baby bonnet on my head, leaving my
beribboned braids hanging down. It was covered in pink and white lace and
ruffles and matched my diaper panties nicely. She tied it in place with a
huge sissyish bow under my chin. "Good enough FOR NOW" mom exclaimed. Mom
turned me to face the camera, and began to explain the "rules", as she put
it, to me. "Until further notice, you are not allowed to use a toilet.
You're wearing your toilet. Besides, little baby girls don't know how to
use the potty until they are properly potty trained." She continued, "If
you need to pee or poo, except at night in bed, you are to ask
permission." (Oh dear God, I have to ask permission to poop and wet my
diapers. What could be worse, I thought.) Mom told me to say (in a lisp)
the following: "May I pwetty, pwetty pwease wet my diapers?" or "May I
pwetty, pwetty pwease poop my diapers?" or "May I pwetty, pwetty pwease
wet and poop my diapers?" if I had to do both. When given permission, I
was to stand where I could easily be seen (and heard) by anyone and, as
noisily as possible, wet and poop my diapers. When done messing myself, I
was to smile broadly and cheerfully exclaim, "I did little girl wetties in
my diapers!" or "I did little girl poopies in my diapers!" or both. Mom
then further explained, "If you are wearing a dress or skirt or
petticoats, you are to curtsy while saying these things. Do you
understand, you, soon to be, little miss poopie panties." All I could do
was shamefully nod "yes".
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Braids and Beyond--part10Braids and Beyond--part10
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/9/2005 21:37:03 [-04]
I spent the next hour, as I had been instructed to do, either crawling
around like a baby on all fours or sitting on the pink blanket playing
with baby rattles and hugging a dolly Ellie had given me. My pink pacifier
was in my mouth at all times and the video camera was running. At one
point, mom asked me if I was thirsty. I was, very much so, and nodded
"yes"; thankful for at least some small kindness from her. However, she
wasn't being all that kind. I was given a baby bottle filled with juice.
As I was very thirsty, I gratefully suc-ked it dry fairly quickly. By now,
it was 7:00 PM and everyone, including me, was hungry for dinner. Mom said
that since it was late and she didn't feel like cooking, she'd take us all
to Denny's for supper. Jessica called home and got permission to go out to
dinner with us. I prayed that mom would put some clothes on me and not
take me out wearing only my diapers and training bra and sissy baby
bonnet. And, unbelievably and for the first time, my prayers were
answered. I was dressed in my pink satin party dress and petticoats and I
was actually glad to be wearing them. They covered my gigantic diapers, so
long as I didn't bend over even the slightest bit. Surprisingly too, mom
even removed my hideous bonnet and pacifier. I was thankful to be back to
just being a pretty little girl, except in diapers. Dinner at Denny's was
the usual ordeal of taunting and jeers and stares and awful wisecracks and
laughter. Mom ordered for me from the Kiddie menu but I didn't care. I was
hungry and glad that nobody seemed to know about my diapers. But that
wasn't to last for long. As I sat there eating, I started to notice a
gurgling and rumbling inside me. I also started to feel the need to pee. I
thought about it and realized I hadn't peed or pooped in almost twenty
four hours. As we finished our dinners, these sensations were increasing.
The very last thing in the world I wanted to do was pee and poop my
diapers in a public restaurant. And I knew the restrooms were off limits
to me. I was squirming and fidgeting in my seat, desperately trying to
fight these urges. Seeing my discomfort, Ellie quickly seized the
opportunity to ask mom, "Can we please have dessert and coffee?" Mom gave
that awful grin of hers and answered, "Sure, why not?" I knew I was
doomed, but continued my battle with my kidneys and bowels. As mom and
Ellie and Jessica ate their desserts and sipped their coffee (I, of
course, had declined coffee and dessert), they talked about how I'd have
to be taken shopping tomorrow to buy some simpler dresses and skirts and
outfits to wear for everyday use. "He can't wear his pretty party dress
all the time, though I know he'd probably love too." mom said. I didn't
focus, though, on the awful thought of more humiliating shopping. I was
too focused on trying to not wet and poop my diapers. And mom and Ellie
and Jessica were very well aware of that. Mercifully, dessert and coffee
was finally finished and mom asked the waitress for the check. I thought I
was "home free", at least in terms of messing my diaper in the restaurant.
But the waitress was taking an eternity to return with the check. I
squirmed and fidgeted even more, trying to hold everything in. Mom and the
girls became silent and just sat there with big grins starting to light up
their faces. Moments later, I felt a huge spasm in my butt and pushed a
VERY LARGE load of warm, stinky poo into the seat of my diapers. This was
immediately followed by a torrent of warm pee. I cried, uncontrollably, in
shame. Everyone at the tables and booths around us quickly became aware of
what I had done from the awful smell. They held their noses and either
grumbled or giggled and teased me. My mother looked around to all of them
and apologized saying, "I'm so sorry everyone that my sissy son here has
messed his diapers, he just can't seem to control himself." Holding her
nose and giggling, the waitress finally returned with the check. Taking my
hand, mom pulled me from my chair and loudly announced for all to hear,
"Come along LITTLE MISS POOPY PANTIES, let's get you home." As I was
walked out the restaurant to the sounds of the laughter and taunts of the
nose holding customers, I felt the great weight of the huge load of poo in
the seat of my diapers. It was sticky and stinky and clung to the crevices
and cavities of my rear end and crotch. The front of my diapers was
equally heavy with the warm, wet pee it contained. Words can't truly
describe the awful sensations I was feeling from the wet, poopy, stinky
"TOILET" I now found myself wearing. With the check paid, we headed for
the car. I was told to sit in the back seat by myself, as no one wanted to
sit next to smelly, "Little Miss Poopy Panties". As I sat down, the poo
squeezed all around and into my butt crack and crotch with a horrible
stickiness. This seemed to cause an even greater smell. Mom and the girls
rolled down all the windows for some relief. As we drove home and were
about to drop off Jessica, mom said, "Well, you disgraceful little poopy
baby. You're in big trouble now. You're going to be severely punished for
what you did!" I pleaded, "But mom, you told me I had to use my diapers
for pooping and peeing and I couldn't hold it any longer." I was sobbing
uncontrollably. "Oh, silly Little Miss Poopy Panties, you're not in
trouble for messing your diapers. That's what little sissy baby girls like
you are supposed to do. And you'll be doing a lot of that in the future!"
mom answered. "But then why am I in trouble?" I asked. "You're in trouble
and are going to be punished because YOU FORGOT TO CURTSY AND PROPERLY ASK
PERMISSION TO DO LITTLE GIRL WETTIES AND LITTLE GIRL POOPIES IN YOUR
DIAPERS like I instructed you to do!" mom scorned. I felt I had been set
up and blubbered even more. As if to console me, mom added, "But, at
least, your punishment will last only through the night." Mom then
pronounced my punishment. "Your stinky, messy diaper won't be changed
until tomorrow morning. You will be put to bed with that stinky, wet,
poopy, huge load in your in your didees." Oh God no, I thought. When we
got home, mom and Ellie didn't want to be around me because of my very
smelly diapers. But they had to assist me in getting off my dress and
petticoats and anklets and Maryjanes. They held their noses, as best they
could, while helping me. They were glad to see that no leaks of any kind
had occurred with my diapers and plastic panties. "See why I diapered him
so heavily Ellie?" mom boasted. Undressed to just my diapers, plastic
rhumba diaper panties and training bra, mom sent me to the bathroom to
wash off my makeup and lipstick and undo my braids and ribbons. They hung
up my dress and petticoats while I washed. With my face cleaned and my
hair undone, I returned to the living room. Pinching their noses when they
could, they tied my sissy baby bonnet on to my head, stuck my pink
pacifier into my mouth, put a rattle in one hand and the dolly in my other
hand, and sent me off to bed. "Sweet--ah--or should I say, smelly dreams,
sissy baby!" Ellie called, as I waddled into my bedroom. "Hope you don't
get too much of a diaper rash Caroline." mom added. My night was horrific.
The smell and the wet, clammy feeling and the sticky, squishing and oozing
of the huge load of poo caused me to take several, tearful hours to get to
finally get to sleep.
-
Braids and Beyond--part11Braids and Beyond--part11
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/10/2005 22:22:09 [-04]
I woke up early Thursday morning, after an extremely fitful sleep, to the
awful smell and wet, sticky, squishy feeling of my very messy diapers. Mom
and Ellie wouldn't be up for probably an hour and I figured it would be
best for me to stay put until they got up. I softly cried as I pondered my
situation. Just five days earlier, I had begun my day as a normal thirteen
year old boy, eager to begin his summer vacation. Now, five days later, I
was beginning my day as a very prissy, very little, girl in a very wet,
poopy, stinky diaper. And I certainly did not look forward to rest of my
summer vacation. I couldn't believe how quickly my punishments had
escalated me, in such a short time, to the point I was at now. My
punishment had begun with simply "braids", an almost seemingly benign
punishment in hind sight, and had now progressed me to my current state.
It made me wonder (and cringe) at the thought of what hideous additional
humiliations I'd be suffering five days from now. I fought to block that
thought from my mind and tried to doze a little. And I succeeded because
the next thing I knew, mom was knocking on my door, "Wakey, wakey Little
Miss Poopy Panties. Hope you slept well sweety or should I say STINKY."
Mom missed few opportunities to berate me. "Hurry out here to get cleaned
up." That, I was eager for. I got up and started heading for the kitchen
where mom and Ellie would be. I was glad to discover that nothing had
leaked from my messy diapers over night. As I started to enter the kitchen
mom shouted, "Stop right there, you smelly little sissy. You're not coming
in here and stinking up the place!" I held my ground as mom explained what
I was to do to get cleaned up. We had a small, half bath in the
basement--toilet, sink and a shower stall. Mom said that neither she nor
Ellie were going to deal with cleaning stinky, yucky poop off me. That was
my job. I was to go to the basement bathroom, stand in the shower stall,
remove my diapers and plastic panties and place the cloth diaper and
soaker and pins, along with the two plastic diaper panties, into a diaper
pail with sudsy water that she had placed outside the shower stall. There
was a plastic garbage bag for my messy Depends. Then, I was to very
thoroughly shower leaving no sign of my messy diaper on my body. When
done, I was to use Lysol spray to disinfect the shower. "Do you understand
Caroline?" mom asked. I nodded "yes". "And be sure to wash and condition
your hair and brush your teeth. Every thing you need is down there. I want
you squeaky clean!" mom added. "Oh, and remember, the toilet is off limits
to you. If I hear a flush or discover anything in the bowl, you'll really
pay for it sissy!" she admonished. Five minutes later, I was under a nice,
hot shower, very thankful to be ridding myself of the horrid poo I had
worn for the last twelve or so hours. I noticed the hard spray from the
shower head really hurt my butt. Mom had gotten her way. I had a large
diaper rash. When I finished showering, shampooing and conditioning, and
brushing my teeth; I wrapped a towel around me and thoroughly disinfected
the shower as mom had told me. It felt so good to be squeaky clean, as mom
had put it. I walked upstairs and into the living room. Everything was
laid out, just like last night, for my diapering. Mom told me to remove my
towel and lie on the pink blanket. Mom and Ellie diapered and pantied me
(mom had purchased several diaper panties and cloth and disposable
diapers) just like before, with two exceptions---a third Depends was added
and no diaper rash ointment was applied to my hurting bum. "I want you to
really experience a diaper rash to serve as a reminder to always follow my
instructions Caroline." mom scolded. After diapering, mom only put my
training bra on me and sent me off to her room where she and Ellie would
supervise me as I dried and braided my hair, beribboned and barretted it,
applied my makeup and lipstick, and did my nails. This took a long time,
as I was still very inept with it all. When finally done, I was allowed
breakfast and then dressed in my pink satin party dress, petticoats,
anklets and Maryjanes. "Time to shop girls." she said and we were out the
door. As I waddled out to the car, with my dress and petticoats doing
their usual noisy, bouncy "dance", I noticed that my dress flared up and
out around me even more than before which, I assumed, was due to the bulky
diapers underneath. As we drove, mom said to Ellie, "I think we should go
to the JC Penney at the Mall. They should have a decent selection of
simpler dresses and skirts and outfits for every day use." Ellie agreed.
Mom continued, "And as long as we're at the Mall, we can stop at the
Piercing Pagoda for some little diamond stud earrings for Caroline and pay
a visit to the dress boutique. Mrs. Brinkworth will be very happy to see
Caroline again." The feeling wouldn't be mutual, I thought.
-
Braids and Beyond--part12Braids and Beyond--part12
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/11/2005 22:22:10 [-04]
Nearing the Mall, mom told me that I should refer to her, from now on, as
"mommy". "That's more befitting a little girl in diapers." she said. She
also told me that I was to lisp the whole time we were at the Mall. "Yeth
mommy." I responded. She parked in a parking lot at the opposite end of
the Mall from where JC Penney was. Neither Ellie nor I questioned why. Mom
wanted me to have a long, humiliating stroll through the Mall to JC
Penney. I never realised, before the last five days, how devious and
sadistic mom could be. My hands in theirs, we entered the Mall. I prayed
my bulging diapers would go unnoticed. Being my third trip to the "Mall
from Hell", I was a bit more accustomed to the awful humiliation of it
all, except this was my first time in diapers and I was resolved to not
mess them here. Fortunately, none of the usual taunts and wisecracks
referred to my diapers and I was pleased, at least, for that. But I did
notice a stinging feeling on my bum from my large diaper rash. Arriving at
JC Penney, we headed for the girl's department. We stopped in front of a
rack with a large selection of girl's sun dresses. Mom picked out four in
various colors and prints and styles that she thought looked cute. She
held them up to me and determining that they were probably the right size
for me, she took me and Ellie to the dressing room to try them on. In the
dressing room, mom and Ellie stripped me to my bra and diapers. As much as
I hated the thought of more girl's clothes, I thought at least these would
be a whole lot simpler to wear and a lot less frilly and prissy. With one
of the sun dresses lowered onto me, I noticed two awful things about it.
First, it was very short, the hem just barely covering my rhumba diaper
panties and second, unlike my petticoated party dress, the huge bulge of
my diapers was very obvious under the skirt of the dress. This was also
true with the other three I tried on. "Mommy, pwease, everyone will see
the bulge of my diapers," I pleaded. "Hush up Caroline, I have your
pacifier in my purse if you're not quiet!" she glared. Mom said they were
all a perfect fit and very pretty and we'd take them. She said, "The one
you have on now (it was light pink with a white floral pattern) matches
your ribbons and barrettes and anklets and Maryjanes nicely, so you can
just wear it out after we pay for it and have the tags removed." Exiting
the dressing room, the first thing I saw and heard was a little girl in
pigtails holding her mother's hand. "Mommy, is that a boy or a girl and
what's that bulge in her dress?" Her mom giggled, "Mind your own business
Sarah." The other customers were equally amused at the sight of the "sissy
boy" wearing diapers under his dress. The cashier laughed as we approached
the counter to pay for my dresses. "My, oh my, someone must have been a
very, very bad boy to deserve a punishment like this!" she said. "He
certainly has been!" mom replied as she paid for the dresses. "Could you
remove the tags on the one he's wearing so he can wear it out, and, also
put his party dress in a bag to carry?" mom asked. "Yes mam, I'd be glad
to." giggled the cashier. "Next stop, the Piercing Pagoda--chop chop!" mom
said and out into the Mall we went. "NEED A DIAPER CHANGE SISSY BOY?"--"IS
THE WIDDLE BABY WET AND POOPY?"--"MOMMY'S WIDDLE BABY GIRL IS CRYING, SHE
MUST BE WET!"--"DID YOU MESS YOUR DIDEE SWEETY?"--"WHERE'S YOUR PACIFIER,
GIRLIE-BOY?"--"SHE NEEDS A NICE, PRETTY BONNET TO WEAR!" These were just
some of the degrading remarks I had to endure on the way to the Piercing
Pagoda. The same girl, as days before, waited on us. She was even more
amazed at the sight of me now. She laughed, with little restraint, as she
"impaled" my earlobes with the new diamond stud earrings mom had chosen
for me. "Keep dry darling!" she scoffed as we left. I hoped we were done
with our shopping but was very wrong. Mom headed for the girl's department
at SEARS. She stopped at a rack of short, pleated skirts of various colors
and plaids. They were the type of skirt that many of the girls at my
school wore and, indeed, there was a sign on the rack advertising "Early
Back to School Special". The advertisement scared me very much. Next to
the rack of skirts was a rack of tops that coordinated well with the
skirts. A half hour later, after the same routine we did at JC Penney, we
left the store with four pleated skirts and four coordinating tops. Three
sets were bagged and the fourth, I was wearing--a blue plaid, very short
pleated skirt and a white top that showed the "bumps" of my training bra
very nicely. This skirt showed my diaper bulge even more than the sun
dress and I was mortified. "Pwease, pwease, pwetty pwease---the bulge!" I
cried. She thought about it briefly and said, "Well, maybe we should pay a
visit to Mrs. Brinkworth at the dress boutique." A few minutes later, we
stepped into the dress boutique and were greeted by a very happy to see us
Mrs. Brinkworth. After pleasantries were exchanged, mom explained how I
had to be diapered because I was prone to having "accidents" in my
panties. "Is there some way to hide the bulge under the new sun dresses
and skirts we bought him?" mom asked Mrs. Brinkworth. "Sure, I have just
the solution." and she hurried off to a back room. She returned shortly
with a small, fluffy, but not extremely full, white petticoat. She slid it
up over my diapers and panties and under my skirt. I hated the thought of
wearing more petticoats but it solved the "bulge" problem quite nicely and
I was glad to be wearing it. Next, mom picked out half a dozen pairs of
lacy anklets in various colors to match my new dresses and skirts. White
and black patent leather Maryjanes in the same size and style as my pinks
ones were also chosen, so I didn't need to try them on. "They can be worn
with almost any color dress or skirt." she told me. With the purchases
paid for, mom graciously thanked Mrs. Brinkworth and said, "See you soon!"
as we left. "I certainly hope so!" replied Mrs. Brinkworth. Surely, we
must be done now, I thought. "Mom, I'm starved. Can we get food at the
Food Court?" Ellie asked and my hopes were dashed. "Sure!" mom answered.
As we walked, I was again pleased that none of the snide remarks referred
to my diapers. But I was distressed to feel a "rumbling" inside me like
last night at the restaurant, and an urge to pee. I became worried that
I'd soon be wearing last night's dinner and this morning's breakfast in
the seat of my diapers. As we approached the Food Court, these sensations
increased. I so did not want to wet and poop myself in public again. I
could fight it off I assured myself. Standing in line for hamburgers and
drinks at Burger King, I fidgeted and squirmed. The pressure in my bowels
and kidneys was getting greater. Like last night at Denny's, I was pretty
oblivious to the taunts and giggles and wisecracks around me. I focused
only on holding back a flood of poo and pee into my diapers, at least
until we got out into the parking lot. I was dancing and squirming around
in my seat at the table as we ate. Mom smiled knowlingly and looked at me
and said, "Is there something you want to ask me Caroline?" I knew full
well what she meant by that question. "No mommy." I sobbed. "Are you sure
Sweety?" I said nothing and just cried and squeezed my legs together and
held the front of my skirt like a little girl in dire need. "There's
something you need to ask me Missy, and you better SPIT it out before you
SH-T it out," she ordered, "Or you'll be in big trouble!" I gulped, stood
up, hung my head in absolute shame and mumbled the mortifying words--"May
I pwetty, pwetty pwease wet and poop my diapers?" Mom chided, "What, I
didn't hear you." Louder I repeated, "May I pwetty, pwetty pwease wet and
poop my diapers?" People around us roared with laughter. "Is that it?" mom
asked. I didn't know what she meant so I repeated it a third time, even
louder and added "mommy" at the end of my horrible recitation. "Are you
sure that's all Caroline?" she again asked. I was confused. I knew I had
said it correctly. I simply replied, "Yeth mommy." "Okay then Caroline,
let it rip!" she mocked. Moments later, I farted loudly, pushing a huge
load of sticky, stinky poo into my diapers. A flood of pee soon followed.
The people around us laughed even more, but their laughter was soon
replaced by gasps from the awful smell I made. They quickly moved to other
tables in the food court. In less than twenty four hours, I had messed my
diapers twice in public. I cried hysterically. But I was coherent enough
to remember to smile broadly and cheerfully say what I knew I had to.
"Mommy, I did little girl wetties and little girl poopies in my diapers!"
With that, we left quickly, though my waddling with the huge load of poo
in my diapers slowed us down some. I cried all the way to the car and all
the way home. Finally back home, I made a bee line for the shower in the
basement. Seeing my race to the basement, mom shouted loudly, "Stop right
there Little Miss Poopy Panties. Just where do you think you're going?" I
replied, "To take a shower so you and Ellie can put me in clean diapers."
I couldn't wait to get out of my poopy mess. "Well I've got news for you
Caroline," mom continued, "You're not getting a diaper change until
tomorrow morning!" I couldn't believe my ears. "But mommy, I said
everything exactly as you told me to, before I pooped and wet, and after!"
Mom countered with, "That's very true Caroline, and to your credit, I have
to say that you did a very good job of that." She grinned, "But you forgot
to CURTSY!" I was doomed to a second night in wet, poopy, stinky diapers.
-
Braids and Beyond--part13Braids and Beyond--part13
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/14/2005 22:03:03 [-04]
Mom and Ellie didn't want me around them, given the awful smell of my
poopy diapers. Mom told me to go to my bedroom to remove my new pleated
skirt, top, small petticoat and Maryjanes and hang them up. Then to the
bathroom to brush my teeth and wash off my makeup. With that done, I was
to put my baby bonnet on and tie it with a large sissy bow. She said I was
to crawl back into the living room when done. "Little baby girls in poopy
diapers crawl around at all times!" she reminded me. "And don't forget
your pacifier." she added. While I was undressing and washing up, mom and
Ellie went up into the attic and brought down the old playpen from when
Ellie and I were babies and set it up in the basement. "We can't have you
stinking up the living room but you can stink up the basement." mom said
as I was made to crawl downstairs to my "poopy" prison. I sat down in the
playpen with my huge load of poo "mushing" all around me in my diapers. It
was such a horrible, sticky, stinky feeling. Dollies, rattles, some soft
baby blocks, and a baby bottle of juice were placed in my playpen to give
me something to occupy myself with. "Ellie and I are going upstairs to
make dinner, but there will be none for you. You can go to bed without
your dinner tonight, Little Miss Poopy Pants." mom said as she and Ellie
went up stairs for dinner and some fresh air. I didn't care about supper,
I was too upset to be hungry. I sobbed and suc-ked on my pacifier,
reflecting on the day's humiliations. My bum was extremely sore from what
had to be a huge diaper rash. I knew it would be even worse after another
night in wet, poopy diapers. I tried not to dwell on my soon coming
bedtime and long night trying to sleep in my horrid mess. How could they
do this? It was so degrading. Of course, that was as they intended it to
be. After, I guessed, a little over an hour, they returned, holding their
noses and sent me crawling upstairs to my bedroom for another stinky,
sticky night of little sleep. "Stinky dreams Little Miss Poopy Panties!"
they both chimed together after my bedroom light was extinguished and door
closed. I smelled awful, I felt awful and my bum was so very sore. It was
hours before I managed to dose off. I awoke early the next morning,
realising I had to poop and pee some more. No need, at least, to ask the
humiliating permission to go. I didn't even try to hold it in. To what use
would it be, at this point. I pooped another large load into my already
full diaper and wet it also. Mom had done a very good job of thoroughly
diapering me because I didn't leak at all, fortunately. An hour later, my
nose holding "mommy" opened my door, "Wakey, wakey Little Miss Poopy
Panties. Did you sleep well, sweetie?" I cried, "My bum hurts very much
mommy!" as I turned over on my side. "No surprise there." mom said.
-
Braids and Beyond--part14Braids and Beyond--part14
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/16/2005 23:16:25 [-04]
"Crawl downstairs to the shower and get nice and squeaky clean, Sweetie
Pie!" Mom didn't have to tell me twice and I crawled as fast as I could. I
couldn't wait to be clean and sweet smelling. The spray from the shower
head irritated my diaper rashed bottom even more than yesterday. Looking
over my shoulder at it in the mirror as I dried myself, I could see that
my butt was covered with the bright red rash. Mom was waiting for me in
the living room, as I returned upstairs. "Lie tummy down on the blanket
Caroline." mom told me. Doing so, she covered my red bottom with a
generous amount of diaper rash ointment. It felt soooooo good on my raw
bottom. "This will help with the stinging and help heal your pretty,
girlie behind Missy." Next, she covered my entire back side, neck to toes,
with baby powder and rolled me over on to just a single, thick cloth
diaper with a large soaker insert. "Just a light diapering for now,
Sweetie, to let your bum heal better." She sprinkled my entire front side
with baby powder as thoroughly as my back side. While doing this, she
cooed at me and kissed me and tickled me and gently twirled my hair and
spoke softly in "baby" talk to me. She was actually being very loving and
dear to me, as any mommy would be to her little baby girl. As strange as
it sounds, her affection was nice. With my diaper pinned and rhumba
panties in place, I was dressed in a light yellow, full (but very short)
skirted sun dress with white lace around the neck and hem and pink and
white babyish appliques across the the front. Very baby girl! My short,
less full petticoat was pulled up underneath. The sash in the back was
tied into a large, perky bow. No training bra today. Matching yellow and
white lace anklets and white Maryjanes completed my outfit. "Crawl into my
bedroom Caroline and sit in front of the mirror for makeup and hair
please." mom gleefully said. With my makeup expertly applied by mom, Ellie
entered the room. Mom started to part my hair and said, "Variety is the
spice of life. What's say we do a slight change with your hair today,
sissy boy. How about pigtails or a cute ponytail for a little variety."
Ellie yawned, "Pigtails would be cute mom." "Then pigtails it is." she
replied. Minutes later, I sported pigtails. Each starting behind the top
of the ear and reaching to just above my shoulders. Mom used a curling
iron on each one to give them some curl and body. A long, yellow satin
ribbon tied in a very large sissy bow adorned each one. I immediately
hated them even more than my awful braids. They bounced and bobbed with
the slightest head movement and the long, dangling ribbons tickled my
ears. They seemed even more "little girlish" than my braids, if that was
possible. I started to tear up. "Look mom, she's so happy with her pretty
pigtails and ribbons, she's crying!" Ellie sarcastically gushed. "Let's
have some breakfast girls." mom said and I crawled to the kitchen,
exposing my diapered behind to a giggling Ellie. My breakfast was a normal
one thankfully, with the exception of juice from a baby bottle. (I
secretly feared highchairs and bibs and spoon fed baby food and the like.)
After breakfast, I was sent to the blanket in the living room to watch
"Sesame Street" and play with my dollie. "Keep your pacifier in your mouth
at all times Missy." mom warned. Two and a half hours of "Sesame Street"
later, mom told me "Nap time for my little Sweetie!" "But mommy, it's only
11:30." I squealed. "Hush up or it's spankies for you sissy boy." mom
scolded. I crawled to my bedroom and mom removed my dress, anklets and
Maryjanes and into bed I went. As I laid there, I noticed how soft my
cloth diaper felt against my clean, poo free loins. I laid on my tummy and
felt my "girlie" wiener react to the cushy diaper encasing it. I rubbed my
wiener against the diaper slightly and it immediately became very stiff.
It was then that I realized I had not "shot my wad" since all this
horrifying girlish torment had begun. I began to fantasize about how
wonderful it would be to have Jessica change my diaper in the same
affectionate and loving manner that mom had just done. I thought about the
girl of my dreams rubbing my bottom with diaper rash ointment and baby
powdering me all over (especially my little "willie") and cooing at me and
fondling my pigtails and treating me, in every regard, like her little
baby girl. The more I thought about it, the harder I got. Before I knew
it, I groaned and ejaculated "mightily" into my soft diaper. I sighed. It
felt so good to have the tension in my wiener relieved. I fell into a very
blissful sleep, dreaming of soft diapers and baby powder and Jessica. Two
hours later, I awoke from my restful nap to the sound of conversation in
the living room. Jessica was over. Mom knocked on the door and entered.
"Crawl on out here Sweetie. Someone has come to visit our precious little
baby girl!" Shamefully, I crawled into the living room as Jessica shrieked
with laughter. "Oh my God, he's so precious in his diapers and rhumba
panties! And the pigtails are a nice change. Coochy, coochy coo little
one!" Jessica added as she tickled me. I was mortified by the girl I had
just dreamed and ejaculated about. Mom was in the kitchen making lunch and
Ellie called to her, "Mom, do you want me and Jessica to check sissy boy's
diaper to see if he's messed it. I don't smell any poopies but he may have
wet himself." Mom replied, "Sure, that would be a help." Oh God, I
thought, they'll discover my sticky "c-um" mess. I had figured that I'd
have peed my diaper, covering it up, before my next diaper change. I was
told to lie on the blanket, tummy up. Ellie and Jessica pulled down my
rhumba plastic panties and unpinned my diaper. "Oh jeez look at that
sticky mess Ellie!" Jessica gasped. Mom heard and called from the kitchen,
"Did he poop?" "No." the girls chortled. Mom again asked, "Did he pee?"
"No." answered the girls again. "Well, if he didn't do a number one or a
number two in his diaper, just what did he do?" mom asked in a perplexed
manner. "Well, mom, I guess you could say he did a NUMBER THREE!" Ellie
responded with a laugh. A minute later, I found myself standing in front
of mom, panties and diaper around my ankles, eyeing the hairbrush she was
holding in her hands. "You are never, ever, ever to squirt your "little
girlie creamies" without my permission you bad, bad little baby girl.
You've earned yourself a fitting punishment and spanking is only the first
part of it!" With that, she handed the brush to Jessica. "Would you like
to do the honors Jessica?" mom asked. "Wow, yes please! How many?" Jessica
chimed. "Twenty five should redden his girlie butt as much as his face."
mom replied. How shameful to be bare butt spanked by the girl I worshiped.
Jessica had again brought her video recorder and my extremely painful and
shameful spanking would go on video record for anyone to see. Twenty five
painful whacks later, I found myself nose into the corner, with my very
red posterior being filmed for posterity. "You just stand there, you sissy
pervert, while the girls and I attend to the REST OF YOUR PUNISHMENT!" mom
yelled.
-
Braids and Beyond--part15Braids and Beyond--part15
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/17/2005 19:44:44 [-04]
While I stood in the corner, mom and the girls went up into the attic and
soon returned with a pink plastic toy baby buggy that had belonged to
Ellie when she was little. They placed my dolly in it. God, what did they
have in mind, I wondered. I was taken from the corner and told to step out
of my diaper and rhumba panties which were around my ankles. My white
Maryjanes and lacy, yellow anklets were removed, leaving me totally naked
and very erect. "Ellie, will you and Jessica thoroughly diaper the sissy
boy?" mom asked. "Start with three Depends, followed by the cloth diaper
and soaker that he squirted his "little girl creamies" into. Then the
pink, clear plastic diaper panties and the pink rhumba diaper panties. I
want him to be very leak proof." she directed. My fantasy of being
diapered by Jessica was about to happen but I knew in my heart, this
"fantasy" would really be a "nightmare". Ellie and Jessica joyfully set to
work on diapering me. "Baby powder and diaper rash ointment too?" Ellie
asked. "No," mom replied. There would be no relief for my spanking
blistered behind. When my diapering was completed, mom told the girls,
"Put his training bra on him and dress him in his pink, satin party dress
and large pouffie petticoats, --Oh, and his pink, lacy anklets and pink
Maryjanes." Mom added, "I want sissy Caroline to be very frilly and prissy
for the rest of his punishment!" With that, Jessica came up behind me and
fastened my training bra to me. She tweaked a pigtail and whispered in my
ear, "You're such a pwetty, widdle thithy baby girl Caroline, I hope your
mommy keeps you this way forever." Jessica then asked my mother, "Could I
put some tissues in his bra cups to give him some pretty, little girl
boobies?" Mom responded, "Great idea Jessica!" Ellie laughed, "Yeah,
perfect Jessica." I stepped into my "mountainous" petticoats and my hated
pink, satin party dress was placed on me and the sash was tied in the
back. Mom replaced the yellow ribbon bows in my pigtails with pink ones to
match my dress. She combed my bangs and "fluffed" my girlish pigtails.
Ellie and Jessica touched up my makeup and reapplied pink lipstick and
nail polish and sprayed perfume behind my ears and on my wrists. "Perfect,
now our prissy little pansy is ready for the rest of his punishment." mom
snickered. The toy baby buggy with my dolly was placed in front of me and
I was told to grip the handle. Mom then took two pieces of pink yarn and
tied my wrists to the handle, rendering me unable to remove my hands from
the buggy. Mom then said to me, "Little girls, like you, love to play
MOMMY and that's the rest of your punishment." She continued, "You will
push your dolly in her baby buggy on the sidewalk up and down our block
for a period of no less than one hour--more if you're not being a good
little MOMMY." I started to cry. "When someone asks what you're doing, you
are to lisp the following exact words and nothing more than these
words--I'M A THITHY BOY AND I WANT, EVER SO MUCH, TO BE A PWETTY, WIDDLE
GIRL. MY NAME IS NOW CAROLINE, SO PWETTY, PWETTY PWEASE CALL ME THITHY
CARLOINE." Mom was adamant that I say those exact degrading words and made
me repeat them back to her several times. "Failure to be a perfect little
Mommy will result in another night in wet, poopy, stinky diapers. And that
reminds me, if you have a need to use your diapers, stop in front of the
house and ask the proper permission. The girls and I will be watching and
video taping you from the porch. Understand Caroline?" I nodded, "Yeth
mommy." Out the door and onto the sidewalk I waddled. This would be my
first, actual, sissy outing in the neighborhood. If there was anyone who
didn't know of my girlish punishment, they surely would know now. As I
walked, once again, everything from my pigtails and ribbons on down,
bounced and bobbed and swished and swayed. A slight breeze played with the
back of my dress and petticoats and caused them to rustle loudly. With my
hands tied to the buggy, I was helpless to control it. Car horns beeped
from their gawking drivers as they passed by. Boys and girls from the
block gazed in disbelief at the sight of me. Danny Henderson and Todd
Mitchell, friends of mine, were the first to confront me. "Is that you
Carl? What in the hell is going on? Why are you wearing a dress and
pigtails and ribbons and pushing a baby buggy?" Todd asked incredulously.
"I'm a thithy boy and I want, ever so much, to be a pwetty, widdle girl.
My name is now Caroline so pwetty pwease call me thithy Caroline." I
shamefully lisped. They choked with laughter. Sue Franklin, a bitchy girl
from my class, came running up. "Is that you Carl?" she asked fondling a
pigtail. I again recited my humiliating response. "Well, I always thought
you were a faggot." she said as she lifted up the back of my dress and
petticoats. I was helpless to stop her. "Oh my God, he's wearing diapers
and rhumba panties under here!" she screamed. "Need a diaper change THITHY
CAROLINE?" she teased. "You look so cute in pigtails and ribbons," she
continued sarcastically, "I hope you're wearing them and dresses and
skirts to school in the Fall!" More kids from the neighborhood approached,
as I waddled with my baby buggy up and down the block. The back of my
dress and petticoats was constantly lifted in the back to display my
embarrassing diapers and rhumba panties. "ARE YOUR DIAPERS WET AND POOPY
SISSY BOY?"----"LOVE THE NEW LOOK CARL!"----"WHAT A PRETTY LITTLE GIRL
YOU'VE BECOME CARL--I MEAN CAROLINE!"----"CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU IN SCHOOL
IN SEPTEMBER SISSY!" ----"LOVE YOUR PIGTAILS AND RIBBONS PANSY!" ----"RUN
HOME TO MOMMY LITTLE GIRL SO SHE CAN CHANGE YOUR DIDEE!" These were just
some of the taunts I had to endure. About a half hour into my ordeal, I
realised I was going to need to use my diapers very soon. Now I would have
to mess my diapers in front of the whole neighborhood. Fighting off the
urge, I knew from experience, would be a losing battle. But I tried. I
stopped in front of my house, with a crowd of tormentors, when I could
hold it no longer. I called to the porch, "Mommy, may I pwetty, pwetty
pwease wet and poop my diapers?" And I curtsied, sans hands. "Yes
Caroline." mom called back. Everyone roared with laughter. They couldn't
believe their ears. I noisily pooped a load into my diapers and thoroughly
wet them. Through the uproar of laughter, I gave a broad smile, as mom
expected, and cheerfully exclaimed "I did little girl wetties and poopies
in my diapers!" as I curtsied. The kids couldn't believe what I had just
said and done. I cried shamefully as they backed away from "stinky, little
Miss Poopie Panties" as several called me. There's an old saying--"Every
cloud has a silver lining." This was true in my case, except my "cloud"
was a diaper and the lining was poopy, not "silver". You see, the stink of
my diapers caused the kids to keep their distance from me and, at least,
they couldn't lift my dress or play with my pigtails. Small consolation
though. I still had to endure their taunts but at least, from a distance.
My hour of hell was finally up and mom called me into the house. "I hope
you've learned your lesson, young lady!" Oh God, I had learned it. "You
may undress and shower Caroline and the girls will diaper you." I was, at
least, grateful for a night in clean diapers.
-
Braids and Beyond--part16Braids and Beyond--part16
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/18/2005 13:49:04 [-04]
After showering, I returned to the living room blanket, grateful to have
only spent a short time in messy diapers. Ellie and Jessica diapered me
and, thankfully, used diaper rash ointment on my stinging bum. I was glad
to be put back into the yellow sun dress outfit I had worn earlier, before
my humiliating walk up and down our block. I hated, the most, wearing my
pink satin party dress. Mom primped my hair, attached the matching yellow
ribbons to my pigtails, and said to Ellie and Jessica, "Caroline and I are
going out to do a little shopping for your birthday party this Saturday
Ellie. You two can stay here, or whatever." I'd forgotten that Ellie
turned seventeen this Saturday and was having a party with a dozen or so
of her girlfriends at our house. "We're headed for "Toys-R-Us" for party
supplies--decorations, favors, that sort of thing." mom said as we backed
out the driveway. As we drove, mom said, "I'm sorry I had to punish you so
harshly this afternoon, but you are to NEVER squirt your "little girly
juice" without my permission. Understand, Caroline?" I nodded, "Yes
mommy." I asked my mother, "Do I have to be at the party?" I so did not
want to be there. "Of course, silly girl, you're gonna be mommy's little
helper (and the main attraction at the party, mom thought to herself) and
help run the party with me. It'll be fun!" As we drove on, I used the
opportunity of being alone with my mother to ask her, "Jessica and some of
the kids on the block made remarks about me and school this Fall. All this
girly stuff will end when summer is over. Right?" She grinned and replied
only, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Her answer and grin
made me cringe. Pulling into the Toy-R-Us parking lot, I took some comfort
in the thought that, at least, I wouldn't be wetting or pooping my diapers
here. I had just done that on my walk up and down the block. Mom took my
hand and in we went. I stayed close to her and tried to act very little
girlishly, in the hope that I'd be less noticed and maybe thought of as a
"real" little girl. I think it worked, somewhat. But I still got a fair
share of looks and giggles. Mom picked up plastic party cups, plates,
napkins, favors, decorations, a birthday card--that sort of stuff. Her
last item surprised me though. It was a "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" game.
That's an awfully childish game for teenaged girls, I thought. As we
checked out, the cashier eyed me and giggled to my mom, "Boy, he must be
in big trouble to be dressed like that!" Mom just nodded "yes" and we
left. "One more stop, then home." mom said as we left the parking lot. She
pulled into a video rental store nearby. "Gotta get a movie for the
birthday party." mom said, as we walked in. She picked out some "Shirley
Temple" movie. I wondered why on earth Ellie and her friends would want to
watch THAT! I almost said something to my mother about it, but then
thought that I didn't care what stupid movie the girls wanted to watch.
"Actually, just one more quick stop before home Caroline." mom said as we
left the video store. "We'll go through the "drive through" at Burger King
and bring home some supper." I was glad it was the "drive through". One
less public display for me. Back home, with supper done, Jessica excused
herself to head home. She gently grasped my pigtails, kissed me on the
forehead and whispered, "Try to stay dry, precious!" And out the door she
went. If only she'd kissed me on the lips, I thought, instead of on the
forehead like a little girl. But I was a little girl now, in pigtails and
ribbons and dresses, and would never receive kisses from her like she'd
give to a boy that she liked. Oh well, it was better than nothing, I
thought. I watched TV for a while and, at ten o'clock, asked mom if I
could go to bed. "Okay, Caroline. Just wash off your makeup, brush your
teeth, set your hair in your rollers and put on your nitey." I started to
crawl to my bedroom. "Oh, your diaper's not wet or anything--is it?" I
looked back and said, "No mommy." She smiled, "Good, then you're set for
the night. Oh, and remember, no NUMBER THREES!" With my tasks completed
(rolling my hair took forever, as I hadn't had to wear rollers in a few
days and was out of practice with them), I said good night and hit the
hay. It took a while to drift off, given the horrid memories of the day
and the pain from my "rollered" head, but, at least, I wasn't wet and
poopy. I hoped I'd dream of Jessica lovingly diapering and dressing me as
HER little girl.
-
Braids and Beyond--part17Braids and Beyond--part17
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/20/2005 20:48:51 [-04]
Friday morning, 9AM. I woke with a cold, wet, soggy feeling in the front
of my diapers and a sticky, mushy feeling in the seat of them. The room
smelled of poop. I realized I had messed my diapers in my sleep. What's
become of me, I wet and pooped my diapers in my sleep, I thought. I
started to sob. Moments later, mom knocked on the door and entered. The
smell immediately told her what I had done. "Why so sad, sweetheart?" she
asked, as she saw my tears. "Mommy, I wet and pooped in my sleep. I didn't
even know I did it!" I cried. "Don't cry Caroline, that's what little baby
girls do." she tried to comfort. "But I'm a thirteen year old BOY!" I
responded. "Hush, Pumpkin. Crawl downstairs and get cleaned up and I'll
have you in clean didees in no time." I crawled and cried, fearing I was
losing control of my bodily functions. A half hour later, I found myself
freshly diapered and pantied and seated in front of the vanity table
mirror in my mom's room. "I'll do your hair and makeup for you today,
Missy." she said. Removing my rollers, she added "We'll leave your hair
loose today. (Great, I thought, no dangling appendages hanging from my
head today!) You have an eleven o'clock appointment at my beauty parlor
this morning to have your hair done for Ellie's birthday party tomorrow."
How humiliating I thought and moaned, "Oh mommy, please no!" and I started
to cry. "Oh stop it Caroline. Little girls love to get their hair done
extra prettily for special occasions. You'll enjoy it and you'll get a
professional manicure and pedicure too, you lucky little girl!" she
chimed. "I want you to be extra pretty for tomorrow." she whispered into
my ear. She simply brushed my loose hair and tied a huge lavender ribbon
bow at the top in the back. She did my makeup and lipstick but nothing to
my nails. Before dressing me, she inspected my entire body for hair growth
and was pleased to discover none. "Still as smooth as a baby's bottom."
she laughed. My lavender sun dress and petticoat was next, followed by
matching anklets and my black patent leather Maryjanes. Into the kitchen
for a quick breakfast we went, and then out the door to the car. I so did
not want to go to the beauty parlor and sobbed all the way there. As we
entered the beauty parlor, I was immediately struck by all the feminine
smells of the place--hairspray, nail polish, perfume and a "rotten eggs"
chemical smell that seemed familiar. I remembered the smell from when I
was a very little boy watching my mother give Ellie a home permanent. Sure
enough, in the corner salon chair sat a girl of about my age with a large
pink, plastic cape covering almost her entire body. Head hung low, she was
crying uncontrollably as the stylist tightly wound small, pink plastic,
paper covered rods into her blond hair while another stylist squeezed
pungent lotion onto them. As mom and I passed her, heading for the
receptionist, she glanced up briefly through her tears, and seemed to
recognize me. Just as quickly, she turned her head back down. She looked
vaguely familiar to me but I really didn't recognize her, though. "This is
my sissy son Caroline, he has an eleven o'clock hair and manicure/pedicure
appointment." she told the receptionist. "Oh yes mam, we're expecting you.
But I must say, we weren't expecting Caroline to be a BOY!" she replied.
"Oh well, no matter, he surely isn't the first boy we've had here and he
certainly won't be the last! With such beautiful, girlish hair, I can see
why you have him in dresses." she added. She directed us to a styling
chair in the center of the parlor. The customers, women and girls, giggled
and pointed as we passed by. When I was seated, a gorgeous young woman,
about twenty I'd guess, approached us and said to my mother, "I'll be
styling your daughter's--oh, ah--son's--oh, ah---CAROLINE'S hair." I was
crimson with embarrassment. "How would you like it to be done?" she asked.
"I'd like it pulled back behind his ears, with a cascade of luxurious,
soft, bouncy, full curls hanging down in the back to his neck. Please keep
his bangs." she described. "Do you mean, like large sausage curls in
back?" the stylist asked. "Yes, that would be perfect. He's going to his
sister's birthday party tomorrow and I want him to look his little girlish
best!" mom grinned. "No problem mam, he'll be as pretty as a picture when
I'm done." she said as she draped a pink cape around me. Mom sat down to
wait and watch. The young woman washed and conditioned my hair, towel
dried and blow dried it, and then applied a generous amount of styling
gel. As she started winding curlers into my hair, I decided to "break the
ice" and speak to her. "Why is that girl (who was now under a hair dryer)
getting the permanent crying so much?" I asked. Kind of a dumb question, I
realized, as I'd be crying mightily if I were getting one, I thought. She
laughed and replied, "You two have something in common. Like you sissy,
she's no GIRL! She's a boy named Eric who was caught shop lifting at Kmart
the week before last, and a sissy perm is his mother's form of punishment.
When he leaves here, he'll be sporting a head full of blond ringlets and
sausage curls. He'll look like Shirley Temple, from the head down at
least." she giggled. It was then that it hit me. SHE was Eric Gardner, a
boy in my grade at school. But I knew him best, actually, from church. He
had been in church, with his mother, last Sunday when I had "debuted" my
braids to the world. And his mother had spoken to my mother, in private,
after the service. My thoughts were suddenly broken by the scolding voice
of the hair stylist, "Better be an ever so good little girl, Pansy, or
you'll be on the receiving end of a Shirley Temple permanent next visit!"
Ten minutes later, with my curlers wound, I was seated under the hair
dryer next to Eric. We didn't try to speak, but just exchanged sorrowful
glances at each other. His perm was finished before I was done under the
dryer and I watched as Mrs. Gardner held him by his hand and walked him to
the door, with a waterfall of shameful tears pouring down his bright red
face. His glistening ringlets and sausage curls bounced and bobbed as his
mother dragged him into the street. He did look like Shirley Temple, if it
weren't for his boy's clothes. "Misery loves company." I thought to
myself. When my hair was dried, it was combed and styled and my lavender
ribbon bow was tied to the top of my head in the back and I was off to
have my manicure and pedicure. With that completed, I was glad to be on my
way out of this haven of femininity. "He's adorable! Thank you so much."
mom gushed, as she paid the receptionist and tipped the stylists. "Please
come again soon, there's so much we could do with his lovely, girlish
hair!" called the receptionist. I cringed at her words, fearing I could
well be back here sometime. The customers laughed and jeered and applauded
as my mother and her "pretty, girly boy" son left the beauty parlor. My
sausage curls bounced and tickled the back of my neck as we walked to the
car. At least, they weren't permanent, like Eric's, I thought. By the time
we got home, Ellie was up and dressed and was making lunch. She couldn't
believe how pretty my hair looked. "I can't wait until tomorrow, for my
party, so everyone can see his pretty new hairdo!" she exclaimed. I
certainly could wait! We ate lunch, as Ellie went on and on about how
pretty I looked in curls. The rest of the day and night was fairly
uneventful, thankfully. Mom and Ellie made preparations for tomorrow's
party. After dinner, I needed a diaper change as I had wet myself (of
course, after asking the proper permission). I watched a little television
and at ten o'clock, I asked to go to bed. "Good idea, Caroline. You have a
big day tomorrow!" mom grinned. I so hated that grin. I was already
cleanly diapered and only needed to wash off my makeup and lipstick and
brush my teeth. With that done, as I crawled toward my bedroom, mom
called, "Stop sissy Caroline! Go into my room and sit in front of the
mirror." Mom then rollered only my sausage curls and sprayed them lightly
with hairspray. "We want them perfect for tomorrow, sweetie." And off to
bed I crawled. I fell asleep wondering about Eric Gardner and Shirley
Temple.
-
Braids and Beyond--part18Braids and Beyond--part18
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/23/2005 23:14:02 [-04]
Saturday morning, 10AM--party day. I woke up relieved that I had not
"relieved" myself in my diapers over night. Mom knocked and entered my
room, "Good for you sweet pea, you don't need your diapers changed." she
said. During breakfast with mom and Ellie, mom outlined the many duties I
would have as her "co-hostess" for Ellie's party. These included helping
to serve food and drinks, entertainment, cleanup and being the "greeter"
for the party. She detailed my job as "greeter". "When the doorbell rings,
you are to answer it and say exactly, the following, with a big smile on
your face: HI, I'M ELLIE'S SISSY BROTHER CAROLINE. WON'T YOU PLEASE COME
IN and drop a deep, sissyish curtsy. Then bring the guests into the living
room." I frowned, "Please no, mommy. I'll die." Mom replied, "You WON'T
die and you WILL do it or you'll find yourself with a very red butt!" She
told me to go sponge bathe myself thoroughly, since my diapers needn't be
removed, and brush my teeth and report to her room for hair, makeup and
dressing. Fifteen minutes later, in front of her mirror, she meticulously
applied my makeup and lipstick. My nails needed nothing. She removed the
curlers from the sausage curls hanging down my back and brushed and styled
my hair until it looked just like it had yesterday when we left the beauty
parlor. She lightly sprayed it with hairspray. She carefully fussed as she
dressed me in my pink satin party dress, matching rhumba panties,
petticoats, anklets and pink Maryjanes. Perfume and a gigantic pink ribbon
bow in my hair completed the elaborate caricature of a sweet, prissy
little girl. Guests were scheduled to arrive at 2PM. Mom set me to work in
the kitchen, getting out and arranging food for the party; but not before
putting a large, pink and white, lacy, frilly pinafore on me, tied in a
huge bow at the back. "Mustn't mess your pretty dress, sweetie!" she
grinned. After food and drinks were out, mom had me help her with a few
last minute decorations. As two o'clock neared, I started to tear up over
the extreme humiliation I was about to face at the hands of the party
guests. At almost exactly two o'clock, the doorbell rang and I began my
embarrassing "greeting" ritual. Every girl gasped at the sight of the
sissy boy curtsying in front of them. They just couldn't believe that a
thirteen year old boy could be so extremely "little girlish" or would
allow himself to be so humiliatingly dressed. They laughed,
uncontrollably, and fondled my clothing and under things and primped my
hair and teased me mercilessly; as I escorted each arrival into the living
room. They, of course, discovered my diapers and, invariably, asked if I
needed a diaper change. With the last guest's arrival, "Happy Birthday"
was sung to Ellie and presents were opened and mom and I began serving
food and cake and drinks to the squealing girls, who took every
opportunity to berate and embarrass me and to peek under my dress. When
food and drinks were done and cleared away, mom announced that it was time
for some "entertainment". I knew this involved me but hadn't a clue how.
"Caroline dear, come stand in the center of the living room." mom said.
"Put your left hand on your hip with your elbow sticking out and stick
your right arm out with your hand pointing away from you." She adjusted my
pose. "Please no mommy," I whaled and sobbed. "Would you prefer a nice,
bare butt spanking instead?" she countered. I shook my head "no". With
coaching and instruction from mom and all the giggling girls, I spent the
next twenty or so minutes singing "I'm a little teapot, short and stout.
Here is my handle, here is my spout..............." and did the "little
teapot" dance as I sang. With that humiliating entertainment piece done,
mom put the Shirley Temple movie she had rented the other day into the VCR
and fast forwarded to the part where Shirley Temple sings and dances to
"On the good ship, lollipop". As the video played, I was instructed, by
mom, to pay close attention. After viewing and rewinding the part several
times, I was set to the task of doing my own version of the song and
dance, with eager guidance from mom and the girls. "On the good ship,
lollipop...." I sang and danced to, for what seemed like an eternity. I
finished each time with a broad smile and curtsy to Jessica's video camera
which, of course, was taping all of the day's events. I wanted to die from
embarrassment and finally, stomped my feet girlishly, and let my temper
get the best of me. I shouted "Leave me alone you f--king b--ches!" This
resulted in the bar of soap and a long, bare bottom spanking and corner
time in front of the roomful of taunting girls. Certainly nothing more
humiliating could be done to me, I thought as I did my "corner time".
Naturally, I was wrong. As I stood, red and bare butted in the corner, I
heard mom say "Let's play a game!" and she held a box up in front of the
girls. "Oh geez mom, we're too old to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey!" I
heard Ellie complain. "Of course you are, but I have a different version
for all of you to play that I know you'll really enjoy!" mom replied. I
knew I wouldn't enjoy it. "We're gonna play PIN THE TAIL ON THE SISSY!"
she announced as the girls laughed and applauded. Mom refitted my thick
diapers and rhumba panties around me and backed me away from the corner
slightly. She bent me over and lifted my dress and petticoats up onto my
back. "His diapers are the target girls." Each girl eagerly took her turn
at being blind folded, spun around and aimed in the direction of my bum
with a pinned donkey tail. For once, I was thankful for my heavy diapering
which protected me from most pin pricks. With a few dozen donkey tails
hanging from my bum, the winner was determined. A quiet, rather shy girl
named Ashley had won. Mom announced the prize for the winner. "The winner
gets to MILK THE SISSY!" I really didn't know what that meant but I knew I
wouldn't like it. Ashley demured and declined the prize saying, "Jessica
can do it." Jessica eagerly agreed. I was stood in the center of the
living room and told to hold the front of my dress and petticoats up.
Jessica then pulled the front of my diapers and rhumba panties down, just
enough, to allow my erect "little girlie wiener" to protrude out. "God,
he's got a little sausage to match his sausage curls!" I heard one girl
exclaim. Jessica then masturbated me into a handful of tissues, as I
moaned, and the girls all laughed. "Boy, he really likes being a little
sissy baby girl!" I heard another girl say. I had had many fantasies
involving Jessica playing with my sausage, but not like this. I cried
shamefully. The night dragged on with unending humiliation. Just as I
thought the end might be in sight, I realized, I might have one more
horrific embarrassment left. I hadn't wet or pooped in about twenty four
hours and needed to go badly. I started to do my "little girl needs to go
potty dance" which Ellie and mom picked up on immediately. "Caroline," mom
asked, "Do you need to ask permission to do something, little girl?" I
hung my head, "Please mommy, please don't make me do it!" My words fell on
deaf ears. I was again placed in the center of the living room with all
the girls watching. When I could finally hold it no longer, I recited my
miserable, degrading request to mess my diapers and, noisily, pushed out a
huge stinky load of poo into my diaper bottom and then, thoroughly wet
myself. I followed this up with my gleeful cheer about what I had just
done. I had wet and pooped my diapers in front of two dozen cheering
girls. I had finally got my wish to die and was now in hell, I thought.
Mom added one final blow in front of the girls, "Wash off your makeup and
lipstick and brush your teeth and undress. Put your nitey and baby bonnet
on and insert your pacifier and return to say good night to everyone.
You'll sleep in your messy diapers tonight, Little Miss Poopy Panties!" I
did as I was told and returned ten minutes later, as the girls were
leaving, to say good night. Nobody came near me as I smelled so bad. In
bed, I cried, for what must have been hours, until I finally managed to
fall asleep.
-
Braids and Beyond--part19Braids and Beyond--part19
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/28/2005 19:41:35 [-04]
It wasn't the sunshine peeking through from behind the window blinds that
woke me at the crack of dawn Sunday morning; but rather, the discomfort of
my soggy, poopy, stinky diapers. It was 6:30 AM and I now faced, probably,
an hour and a half of lying in my stinky mess until mom came in --- plenty
of time to suffer the embarrassment and humiliations of yesterday's party
all over again in my mind. I did manage to drift back to sleep a few
times, briefly; but it was still a long wait until mom knocked and came
in.
"It's gonna take a while to get you nice and sweet and pretty for church,
Little Miss Poopy Panties." mom said as she entered my room, holding her
nose. "Off to the shower, stinky." she said as she removed my bonnet. "And
wash and condition your hair, we're gonna go back to braids for a while."
Half an hour later, I crawled, squeaky clean, back upstairs to the blanket
in the living room where mom heavily diapered me using, thankfully, baby
powder and diaper rash ointment to soothe my stinging butt. She covered my
diapers in frilly, blue lace rhumba panties and fastened my training bra
in place. Then off to the mirror for braids and makeup.
I blow dried my hair and when done, mom supervised me, as I did my own
hair and makeup; making sure it was done perfectly. I hated braiding my
own hair, partly because it was so hard to do; but mostly because it was
just such an utterly "girlish" thing for a boy to be doing to himself. The
same was true with the makeup and lipstick. Self-inflicted "feminization"
was, somehow, even more abhorrent. It took me an hour to finish.
Mom dressed me though. She padded my bra cups, slightly, with tissues and
put my short, less full petti on me. Over this, a short, dark blue pleated
skirt was placed. A crisply ironed, white blouse with a Peter Pan collar
was buttoned and tucked in under the waist of my skirt. No anklets, for
the first time; but instead, blue knee socks that matched my skirt. She
tied a matching blue ribbon at each braid's end. My black, patent leather
Maryjanes were strapped on. The finishing touch was a straw hat with a
matching blue ribbon hanging down the back. I looked like a prissy, little
nine year old girl on her way to school.
At the breakfast table, Ellie said to mom, "You know, that outfit will be
just right!" Mom replied, "Yes, it will be perfect!"
"Will be just right and perfect" for what, I wondered. I dreaded to think
more about it.
On the ride to church, I wondered if Eric Gardner would be there with his
mother. No sight of him as we walked down the aisle and chose a pew. I
experienced a lot of muffled giggles and grins from the congregation but,
this was church after all, so I was spared raucous humiliations. A minute
later, Eric and his mom walked past us and sat in the pew right in front
of us. From the neck down, Eric was "Eric". From the neck up, Eric was
"Shirley Temple", an actress that I was now all too familiar with. His
shiny, still glistening, blond sausage curls and ringlets now sported a
large, perky pink ribbon bow on top. He was in absolute, abject misery, as
his tears flooded down his face. As the pastor took to the pulpit, even he
had to stifle a giggle as he eyed me and Eric. Eric cried through the
entire service.
After the service, there was a pot luck brunch in the church basement.
Mrs. Gardner and Eric sat and ate with mom, Ellie and me. We caused a
little more "raucous" commotion down there. I was more used to the taunts
and jeers than Eric, and he just blubbered all the more.
When things seemed to quiet down a little bit, I took the opportunity to
talk to Eric. I knew why he had been "permed" but wondered about the
large, pink ribbon bow in his curls. "Why the bow in your hair, Eric?" I
asked. "I yelled at my mother and swore at her and she spanked me, bare
bottom, soaped my mouth, and tied this silly bow in my hair! She called it
an ADDITIONAL punishment. And more would follow if I don't behave." he
cried.
Well, there was no doubt in my mind as to where Eric's mom had come up
with the ideas for Eric's punishments. Probably no doubt in Eric's mind
either, but neither of us spoke it. Eric and his mom finished their brunch
and excused themselves. As they left, I wondered what Eric would look like
the next time I saw him.
As we were about to leave, Mrs. Tompkins, the church organist, promptly
sat down next to mom for a private chat with her. Her son Dennis was my
age and in my class at school. He too, was here at church but had avoided
me. Dennis was a small, "rough and tumble" boy who was always getting into
some kind of trouble in and out of school. He had long, straight hair;
even slightly longer than mine. As mom and Mrs. Tompkins chatted on, I
noticed Dennis watching them from a short distance away. He had a very
contrite, forlorn look on his face. I couldn't help but wonder what Dennis
might look like when next I saw him.
As we left the church basement for home, a girl eyed me and my school girl
outfit, and giggled and called, "What's the rush, honey. School doesn't
start for another month and a half!"
For the ride home, mom took a different route, one that passed by my
school. As we drove past, mom and Ellie just grinned at each other and
giggled slightly. I hated those grins. I thought to myself that I couldn't
wait for the end of summer and the end of my "girlish" torture.
-
Braids and Beyond--part20--the endBraids and Beyond--part20--the end
Username: sissycaroline , Sep/28/2005 20:41:02 [-04]
The remainder of my summer was just like the beginning had been, a
continuous series of humiliating, sissy scenarios designed to totally
embarrass and degrade me. Endless poopy, wet diapers and frilly frocks and
petticoats and ribbons and bows and satin and lace. I actually wondered,
at one point, if I might succ-umb to all this sissy femininity and resign
myself to the fact that I was now a little girl. But I didn't. I hated
being a little girl and just had to hold on until the end of summer and
the end of my "girlish" humiliations.
As the final week of summer vacation mercifully arrived, I was actually
pleased, one morning, when mother told me that she and Ellie and I were
going to the Mall to shop for "back to school" clothes.
For the occasion, I was dressed and diapered as sissy and frilly as
possible. But I didn't care, the end was in sight. I didn't care about the
taunting and teasing I received as I sashayed through the Mall because the
end was in sight. I didn't even worry about messing my diapers because I
had wet and pooped and had been changed earlier that morning.
As we passed the Piercing Pagoda, I actually flipped up the back of my
dress and petticoats and "mooned" the girl who had pierced my ears. Going
past the dress boutique, Mrs. Brinkworth was standing in the entrance. I
waved to her with one of my beribboned braids, curtsied and blew her a
kiss. Mom and Ellie seemed to enjoy my antics.
We headed for JCPenney, as mom figured they'd have the best selection of
"back to school" clothes. At the entrance, mom sent Ellie off on her own
to shop. She then looked down at me and "grinned" and took my hand. She
promptly walked me to the "back to school" sales area in the GIRL'S
DEPARTMENT!
"No, please no!!!!!!!" echoed loudly throughout the store.
The End