Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: BetBots on February 11, 2006, 09:14:09 PM
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Sorting out Simon - Week 1Sorting out Simon - Week 1
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/7/2005 18:27:56 [-04]
Mrs. Singleton had just finished her cup of tea with Ms. Ingram when they
brought Simon back. Ms. Ingram had promised that her programme would
ensure that Simon would no longer be a troublesome boy. His mother had no
idea what the programme involved.
At first she did not realise that it was Simon at all. This very large
woman hauled a girl in to the room and Mrs. Singleton wondered if there
had been some mistake. But then she recognised Simon’s features under all
that make-up.
The large woman let go of him but stood guarding the door. Simon stood
squirming in front of the women. He was wearing a powder blue jacket and
pleated mini-skirt over white tights. Under the jacket he had a very thin
white blouse with a wide lace collar. Lacey cuffs protruded from the
sleeves of the jacket. A frilly camisole could be clearly seen under the
blouse and he must have been wearing a stuffed bra under that. Matching
powder blue court shoes completed the ensemble.
His face was made-up with a little blush (although that could have been
real), lipstick and blue eye-shadow. His hair had been curled and clip-on
earrings dangled from his lobes.
He wrung his hands anxiously in front of his skirt as his mother looked
him over. He slouched and bowed his head in embarrassment. Ms. Ingram
walked around him examining their handiwork. “Now I think that you’ll find
that after a few weeks with us Simon will modify his behaviour if he knows
what’s good for him. Otherwise he may become Simone on a long-term basis.”
A couple of tears came to Simon’s eyes as the women looked him up and down
and he contemplated spending weeks in skirts. Ms. Ingram slapped his hands
away and instructed him to straighten up. Then much to his shock she
lifted up the front of his skirt. Under the tights they could see blue
panties with a lace trim. The only tell tale sign of Simon’s true gender
was the incongruous bulge under the panties.
“Do you think this is really necessary?” his mother asked doubtfully. “I
can assure you that we have a 100% success rate”, Ms. Ingram replied.
“When you come back next week you’ll see an immediate improvement”.
Simon blurted “please don’t leave me like this!” Ms. Ingram gave him a
slap on the bottom and warned him “now, now, young man, you’d better
behave yourself or you will only make matters worse.” Simon wondered how
much worse things could get. He looked desperately at his mother for some
sign of reprieve. She seemed to doubt if she was doing the right thing.
“Alright. You’re to do everything that Ms. Ingram asks of you, do you
hear?” his mother told him. He was crushed at this confirmation that she
was going to leave him like this. He pressed his knees together in a
desperate attempt to feel less exposed in the short skirt but the feeling
of nylon rubbing against nylon just reminded him that he was wearing
horrid tights.
His mother went towards the door. “PLEASE Mum”, Simon blurted again. He
was met with another slap on the bottom. “Young man you are getting off to
a bad start, if you are not careful you will end up in an even more
effeminate outfit.” With that his mother was gone and he was left to Ms.
Ingram’s devices.
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Sorting out Simon - Week 2Sorting out Simon - Week 2
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/8/2005 15:49:28 [-04]
The following week Mrs. Singleton was again having tea with Ms. Ingram
when Simon was shown in. He stumbled clumsily in to the room in very high
heels. He was wearing a black jacket and black and white mini-kilt over
black tights. He tugged nervously at the hem of his skirt. His mother
noticed that he seemed to have a very much more feminine shape overall and
he no longer slouched but stood perfectly erect.
“I’m afraid that Simon has not been co-operating with us very well”, Ms.
Ingram said. “He will need to learn that disobedience will only make his
situation worse. We have put him in a corset since yesterday”, she told
his mother. That explained his much more feminine shape and why he stood
so straight.
His mother noticed then that the loop on his earrings ran right through
his lobes. His ears had been pierced! He saw that she noticed this and a
tear came to his eye. “Those are four-inch heels”, Ms. Ingram informed
her. “He must wear them now from morning to night. He cannot bend over far
enough to unstrap them anyway in that corset. Turn around Simone.” Simon
winced at the mention of the feminine version of his name.
When he turned his mother saw the seams running down the backs of his
legs. The left one was a little crooked. “Straighten your seams for
goodness sake”, Ms. Ingram barked. Simon jumped. He stuck his right leg
out behind and twisted to try to see the seam. “The other one”, Ms. Ingram
added helpfully.
He bent down as much as the corset would allow in order to reach,
revealing a lace stocking-top straining on a metal suspender clip. His
mother gasped when she saw he was wearing stockings not tights and put her
hand to her mouth. Simon realised what he had revealed and straightened
quickly. He was now torn between Ms. Ingram’s instruction to straighten
his seam and the knowledge that in doing so he was showing everyone his
stocking tops. In the end he obviously decided that they had seen whatever
they were going to see and he bent again and adjusted his stocking.
When he was done Ms. Ingram stood forward and pulled up his skirt. “The
suspender straps are attached to his corset”, she showed his mother. Simon
could only stand there and endure this exposition.
His mother continued to notice changes in his appearance since last week.
His scarlet lipstick was elegantly curved into the stereotypical shape.
“Have you plucked his eyebrows?” his mother enquired. Ms. Ingram simply
nodded with a satisfied smile. His hair had been pressed into tighter
curls and his continuous wringing of his hands almost hid the fact that
his nails were painted a scarlet to match his lipstick.
Simon shuffled from one foot to the other in an attempt to ease the pain
of the four-inch heels which he had on now for over six hours. “I’ll leave
you two to chat”, Ms. Ingram said and left the room.
His mother walked towards a chair and Simon followed. He felt the
suspender straps tug gently on his stockings with every step. He was
clearly mortified at the loud clicking of his heels on the wooden floor.
He sat with great difficulty given his corset and his concern that the
already straining suspenders would snap at the back.
“What have you done to deserve this?” his mother asked. “Nothing, really!”
he insisted. “They punish me for the slightest of things. If I even sigh
or look displeased they tell me I will be punished for disobedience.”
“Now, I’m sure that’s not true”, his mother countered. “It’s all for your
own good you know. You must learn to behave properly.” “Please don’t leave
me here any longer Mum”, he begged her. “I promise I’ll do whatever you
say, just don’t leave me here.” “You’ll stay here until Ms. Ingram is
satisfied with your progress”, she told him. He tried to sigh heavily but
winced as the corset prevented him from doing even that.
His mother stood and he did too. The front of his stockings had slackened
as he sat and now the suspenders took up the strain. He looked down in
concern that his stocking tops were probably showing at the front but he
was too embarrassed to try to adjust them.
His mother left the room and Ms. Ingram came back in. The last thing his
mother heard was “pull up your stockings for goodness sake Simone”.
On the Sunday Ms. Ingram insisted on bringing him to church. He was
appalled. His only consolation so far was that he was able to stay within
the confines of the building and grounds but now he was going to have to
go out dressed as a girl in public!
He wore the powder blue jacket and pleated skirt again, this time with
white stockings attached to his corset and the four-inch heels. His legs
still stung from the waxing. He also had the addition of white gloves, a
white hat and a pretty blue purse.
He was terrified stepping out of the car among the hundreds gathering
outside the church. It became immediately obvious that it was very breezy.
He had to keep one hand on his hat and tried to keep his skirt from
blowing up with the other hand which was also clutching his purse.
Ms. Ingram hurried towards the front door and he scampered after her
squirming as he tried desperately to hold his outfit together in the wind.
He overheard a woman say “she obviously didn’t check the weather today
before choosing her outfit”.
As they entered below the church steeple there was an extra strong gust of
wind around the tall building. He felt the back of his skirt flap against
the small of his back and there was little doubt that anyone standing
behind him would have seen his stockings, suspender straps, lacey panties
and probably the corset.
Ms. Ingram strode right up the centre of the church to the front pew.
Simon had to trot quickly to keep up in his high heels. The floor of the
church was tiled and the loud clicking of his heels caused almost everyone
to turn around and look.
Simon went into the front row and sat down. He felt the cold wood of the
pew on his bottom between his stockings and his panties. He fidgeted to
try and brush his skirt under his bottom but there wasn’t enough skirt to
go under him. Every time they stood for a hymn he tugged at the back of
his skirt to ensure that the pleats weren’t sticking out or anything. He
was sure that his stockings were slipping down with all the up and down
movement but he couldn’t adjust them in front of everyone in the church so
he just had to hope.
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Sorting out Simon - Week 3Sorting out Simon - Week 3
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/10/2005 17:59:49 [-04]
The following week his mother sat sipping her tea wondering what Simon
would be wearing this time. She heard the clicking of his heels before she
saw him. He was now clad in a navy gymslip with a blue sash tied in a bow
at his waist. The pleated skirt of the gymslip just about covered his
stockings.
“No improvement I’m afraid”, Ms. Ingram announced. “So this week Simone is
going to attend our local grammar school to see how children behave
properly. Simone! That sash is slack – do it up properly.” He hesitated
momentarily before pulling the bow loose and retying his sash. As he did
so the hem of his gymslip rode up slightly showing a few millimetres of
stocking top. He tugged at the hem again but as soon as he stood straight
the thin black line reappeared.
“It is about ten years since the school insisted on the gymslip”, Ms.
Ingram told them. “Many of the girls wear trousers now or long skirts with
sweaters. Fortunately we had an old gymslip here. Since he’s only
attending for a week there is no point in buying him a skirt specially. I
dare say he’ll be very popular with all the boys at the school.” Simon
looked at her in surprise. He obviously hadn’t realised until now that
there would be boys at the school.
It also transpired that he had to take a bus to the school. He was
dismayed when he saw all the other kids waiting at the stop already. There
were two girls in trousers and another in a skirt almost to her ankles.
The four boys stopped their chatter when they saw Simon approach. He tried
to ignore the tittering as he stood shuffling from one foot to the other,
tugging at his hem every few seconds.
When the bus came it created a gust but at least he had both hands free to
clutch his gymslip. He wanted to let all the others go first because he
didn’t like to think what view would be presented to anyone behind him as
he went up the steps. Normally the boys would be all pushing to get on
first but this time they allowed all the girls to go first. The girls
smirked, fully aware of the boys’ motivation. The boys insisted that Simon
go next. He had no choice but to go up the steps in front of them. He
heard snorts of laughter behind him. He wished Ms. Ingram had allowed him
to wear the plain navy panties instead of those white lace-trimmed ones.
The girls had taken the last seats so Simon was going to have to stand. He
went to reach for the overhead rail but realised that this would almost
certainly reveal his stockings to everyone around. When the other boys got
on behind him he had to move further down towards the back. They insisted
on making him go right to the back which was completely populated by boys.
When the bus lurched forward Simon almost toppled over and had no choice
but to reach up for the rail. When he steadied himself he let go of the
rail, tugged on his hem for the hundredth time and tried to hold on to the
backs of the seats but he knew from the sniggering around him that he had
given a good show.
This torture continued all week culminating in the worst experience on
Friday when they had their sports period. In the sports hall the boys
trained at boxing while the girls played netball. Simon’s sports skirt was
even shorter than his gymslip. Within a minute of the start of the game
the sports teacher called him aside. “Do you not know that you are
supposed to wear plain navy panties under your sports skirt?” she asked.
Simon stood shame-faced with his head bowed, only too well aware that his
white frilly panties would be seen by everyone as he ran up and down the
gym, especially if he had to jump to catch the ball.
The boxing teacher had great difficulty getting the boys to concentrate on
their training as they gawked at poor Simon running up and down the
netball court.
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Sorting out Simon - Week 4Sorting out Simon - Week 4
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/11/2005 15:39:16 [-04]
Simon’s complaining to Ms. Ingram about being made to wear the white
panties only led to his further downgrading. His mother was told that he
was now going to have to go to the junior school. He appeared before her
in a bottle green uniform. The very short pleated skirt buttoned at the
side and had a bib with straps going over the shoulder and crossing at the
back to be buttoned to the back of the skirt. He wore white knee high
socks and black t-bar shoes. His hair had been straightened again and was
tied up with ribbons on either side.
“We will explain to the junior school that he is a particularly slow
learner”, Ms. Ingram said. “He will be in a class of girls four years
younger than him.”
His socks were at full stretch to reach his knees and kept slipping down.
Ms. Ingram repeatedly told him to pull them up again – a feat he could not
achieve without bending sufficiently to give a glimpse of his white
panties which had a pattern of pink hearts.
The bus did not go by the junior school so they made him cycle. When he
first sat up on the saddle he tried to get his skirt to go under his
bottom but it was too short and hung down around the saddle.
He had to pass the bus stop and the boys and girls there had a good laugh
at his appearance in the junior school uniform. He was at least a foot
taller than any of the children in his class and was made sit at the back
or no one else would be able to see.
The third time that his teacher made him come up to the blackboard to
write something along the top of the board, he realised that this was
clearly very deliberate. The children tittered as he reached up obviously
causing his skirt to ride up.
At break and lunch times the girls in the school yard insisted on
including him in their games. If he tried to refuse it brought scowls of
disapproval from the teachers so he thought it was wisest to give in. They
wanted him to play skipping. His attempts to skip on his own were pathetic
and a crowd of girls gathered around laughing at his hapless attempts to
do what they could do with their eyes closed. So they insisted on swinging
a long rope over him slowly while he jumped. The inevitable flashes of
panties as he jumped brought more tittering and his futile attempts to
keep his skirt down just made them laugh louder. They swung quicker and
quicker and there was nothing he could do but keep jumping or risk
breaking his neck.
Some of the meaner girls were particularly nasty to him calling him a
retard. He ended up pulling one girl’s pigtails in retaliation but this
was reported back to Ms. Ingram.
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Sorting out Simon - Week 5Sorting out Simon - Week 5
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/12/2005 18:18:27 [-04]
The next week his mother found him wearing a pink dress with frilly lace
trimmings, puffed sleeves and a Peter Pan collar. It had a stiff net
petticoat which flounced as he walked giving glimpses of matching panties
with rows of lace across the seat. He wore white ankle socks with pink
frothy lace around the tops and pink Mary Janes. His hair had been twisted
tightly into pigtails on either side of his head and tied at the end with
pink ribbons.
That week they made him go to a kindergarten class. Everyone there was
told that he was a sixteen-year old boy being punished. They had miniature
plastic seats for the children and when he sat on one it meant that his
knees were higher than his bottom pushing his net petticoats right up so
that everyone could see his frilly panties no matter how he shuffled about
trying to conceal them.
None of the little girls in the kindergarten wore dresses or skirts but
always came in shorts or jeans. He was mortified at being the most
girlishly dressed - and he a sixteen year old boy among four year olds.
They teased him constantly about his frilly dresses and panties and he was
frequently taken out of the room in tears.
Ms. Ingram led him by the hand to the school every morning which was three
blocks away. They had to pass the bus stop and cross the main street on
their way. People stopped and gawked at the sixteen year old in the little
girl’s dress. He could only wonder whether they even knew he was a boy. He
certainly didn’t look like one.
Ms. Ingram had to drag him along. Pulling his petticoats up and slapping
him on his frilly panties within sight of the bus stop usually had the
desired effect.
Each afternoon she was always the last to arrive and he had to endure the
smirks and comments from all the parents collecting their children. He was
often in the middle of a large circle of mothers sniggering and exchanging
caustic remarks about his latest frock. He got particularly mad if anyone
suggested that he really enjoyed wearing such sissy dresses and stamped
his foot or crossed his arms firmly in disgust but this only amused them
even more and he eventually realised that they were deliberately trying to
provoke a reaction from him.
The ladies who ran the kindergarten weren’t much better. They were as
amused as everyone else at his appearance each day in a pretty dress,
always with elaborate matching panties, and they seemed to conspire to
find ways to make him expose his frilly bottom. Since he was, of course,
much taller than the other children they were often asking him to reach up
for things off high shelves and he knew this would be followed by much
sniggering as he exposed his underwear yet again.
They insisted that he play all the most childish games with the other
children. At first he took part half-heartedly not wishing anyone to think
that he was in any way enjoying this experience. But he found that when he
lost a game they all found it highly amusing that he was being beaten by
four-year-olds. But then if he took the game seriously that only amused
them even more to see him earnestly trying to beat the little children.
Either way he always ended up completely humiliated.
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Sorting out Simon - Week 6Sorting out Simon - Week 6
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/13/2005 18:16:40 [-04]
As he suspected, his reluctance to go to the kindergarten earned him a
further demotion. He wondered how much more this could go on. The next
week he was coaxed along the street in a lemon dress which flared at
breast level and fell at least an inch short of covering his matching
panties which had a broderie anglaise trim around the legs and were pulled
up over white tights. He was made to carry a large doll which had a
matching lemon outfit. But the doll’s dress flared at waist level and went
down to her ankles. It was much less babyish than his dress. Passing the
bus stop the school kids laughed that the doll looked more grown up than
Simon did. “Simon is the doll’s little baba”, someone shouted.
At the kindergarten he was put in with kids who were just out of nappies.
How they laughed at the sixteen year old boy in the toddler dress. All day
he tugged pointlessly at the hem of his dress but there was nothing he
could do to stop everyone seeing his beautifully trimmed panties.
He was made to play the children’s stupid games and recite nursery rhymes.
Of course he had long forgotten the childish rhymes and it amused the
other kids greatly when got them wrong. They loved showing him up by
flawlessly reciting the rhyme that he had failed to recall.
On Thursday he was told that if he didn’t recite the alphabet rhyme
flawlessly he would be expelled from the kindergarten. “All of the other
children here know it perfectly”, he was told, “except you!” He got as far
as R before he hesitated and all was lost. The other children all tittered
and he wondered what would happen to him next.
Half way through the week Ms. Ingram came early to collect him. The lady
in charge of the kindergarten told him in front of the whole group that he
was definitely the worst at remembering rhymes. She told Ms. Ingram that
he just wasn’t good enough for the group and that there was no point in
bringing him back.
Simon was relieved at not having to return to the kindergarten but
wondered what other fate would befall him now.
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Sorting out SimonSorting out Simon
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/16/2005 07:26:43 [-04]
That Saturday he had to be dragged in to the room where his mother took
her customary cup of tea. She froze with the cup half way to her mouth
when she saw him. He was wearing a pink gingham dress which had a teddy
bear on the bodice and a pattern of nursery rhyme characters around the
hem. His head was bowed and she could not see his face for the thick lace
trim on his pink bonnet. But what really shocked her was the unmistakable
bulge of a thick nappy underneath his pink gingham bloomers.
“My goodness. He’s wearing a nappy!” Simon was further crushed by this
confirmation of what he suspected - that anyone could see at a glance that
he was in wearing a nappy.
Ms. Ingram made him lift his head and his mother then saw the large pink
soother in his mouth. Tears were streaming down his face. She led him
across the room. The thick nappy forced his legs apart causing him to
waddle across.
As he stood tearfully in front of his mother Ms. Ingram lifted his
petticoats which must have had several layers. She pulled down his
bloomers. He would have tried to stop her but he could not reach around
his huge petticoats anyway.
“We have put him in a cloth nappy”, Ms. Ingram showed his mother. “The
plastic panties are elasticated at the legs and waist so that they keep
everything in perfectly.” His mother could see the pink tipped nappy pins
through the clear plastic panties.
“You mean … you make him use them?” his mother asked tentatively. “Of
course!” Ms. Ingram relied. “He has been in the nappies two days now so he
has wet himself several times and soiled himself too.” Simon lowered his
head again and was now bawling.
“We brought him down to the kindergarten yesterday so that he could say
goodbye to his little friends and we showed them that he was in nappies
now and would not be able to come to kindergarten again for some time.”
The memory of standing in the middle of all those little children with
their scornful looks at this teenage boy who had to wear nappies and baby
dresses only made him more upset.
“I must show you his new room”, Ms. Ingram said. Simon waddled along
beside the women and Ms. Ingram opened a door along the hallway. Inside
was a nursery all decorated in pinks and yellows. Simon looked ruefully
around the room at his new cot, play pen and high-chair.
“Come along now Simone, it’s just time for your bottle”, Ms. Ingram told
him. Simon walked reluctantly towards the high-chair. Ms. Ingram swung
back the tray and he sat up. She strapped him in and swung the tray back
in front of him. She took a bottle that had been in a container of warm
water and held it towards his mother. “Would you like to do the honours?”
Simon glared at his mother hoping that she would refuse. She went to take
his soother out. He held it between his teeth in protest at her intention
to bottle-feeding him. She knew well what he was doing but said “it’s
alright dear you can have your dummy back when you’ve finished your
bottle.” He was crushed at this mother’s complicity and let her take out
the dummy. She popped the teat of the bottle in and he began suc-king. She
was highly amused that she had to burp him after his bottle.
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Sorting out Simon - Week 8Sorting out Simon - Week 8
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/18/2005 15:30:20 [-04]
When his mother returned the following week she was led in to his nursery.
Simon had been napping and got up on his knees in the cot and grasped the
bars. He watched anxiously as the women discussed him. “At last”, Ms.
Ingram seemed pleased. “He seems to have stabilised. It is just as well
really because otherwise he was facing a week of enemas and butt plugs.”
Simon frowned wondering what they were. He was fairly sure that they were
unpleasant whatever they were.
He wondered if his good behaviour was going to result in a reprieve. “So
what I would recommend is”, Ms. Ingram continued, “assuming that
everything goes well .. we should keep him at this stage for a month.”
Simon was shocked. A month in nappies? But his mother didn’t demur.
“Whatever you think”, was all that she said.
He shook the bars of his cot in protest - an action that he immediately
regretted. “Oh dear”, Ms. Ingram said. “You’d better come with us.” She
led his mother from the room.
They went for their usual cup of tea. When they returned to the nursery
about an hour later Simon was lying on his back in the cot. When he saw
his mother he tried to sit up but winced when he moved. He lay back down
gently trying not to disturb his butt plug again.
His mother came over and looked down at him in the cot. He suc-ked
determinedly on his dummy and gave her the most pitiful look but was ever
so careful not to complain.
When his mother went for tea that time, the big woman had come in and let
him out of the cot. She removed his plastic pants and nappy and put him
over her knee. He was expecting a spanking but felt something at his
rectum. He was still trying to figure out what it was when it was pushed
into his bottom. He gasped in shock. When he recovered he wriggled in an
attempt to get free from the woman. But within seconds warm soapy water
gushed into his bowels. His sphincter contracted instinctively against the
tube the instant the liquid entered him but to no avail.
Eventually the woman removed the tube from his rectum and freed him. He
ran into the adjacent toilet. When he returned she grabbed him again and
put him over her knee. Once again he felt something being shoved into his
bottom. Whatever it was it got wider as she pushed it in. He was paralysed
with shock and moaned as she pushed it further in. Then his sphincter
closed over a narrower part of the implement and it was held in place.
He presumed that this must be what they called a butt plug. He tried to
get his breath back after this shock. The plug was held very firmly in
place. The woman pulled him up to his feet. He felt the huge discomfort of
the butt plug with every movement. She brought him to the changing table
and wrapped his nappy around him again and pinned him in. She was clearly
intending to leave this in him. As she pulled up his plastic pants she
told him “each day this week you will have an enema in the morning and the
butt plug inserted the rest of the time.” He looked up at her in shock,
suc-king on his dummy desperately for some comfort from the distress of the
butt plug and the realisation that this was going to be stuck in his
bottom all week.
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Sorting out Simon - Week 9Sorting out Simon - Week 9
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/19/2005 18:09:33 [-04]
The next week his mother was told that Simon had something to tell her. He
waddled in to the room free at last from the butt plug but still smarting
from it.
“You may take out your dummy to speak”, said Ms. Ingram. Simon did as he
was told. He hesitated but eventually recited as instructed. “Mummy,
please will you keep me as a baby girl. It’s the best thing for me.” He
reinserted his dummy. His mother was not as shocked as he expected. “And
do you want to stay in nappies?” she asked him. He nodded glumly.
He would do and say anything to avoid another week of enemas and butt
plugs. Once he got home with his mother he was confident he could convince
her that he was tortured into making this ridiculous request.
“We can help you with all the necessary supplies”, Ms. Ingram told her.
His mother agreed and it took a few days to make the necessary
arrangements before Simon was brought home.
As he waddled from the car to the front door of the house he prayed that
no one would see him. He couldn’t see much himself beyond the funnel of
his bonnet but the tickling at the tops of his legs from the lace on his
panties and the way the lace on his ankle socks blew against his shin only
reminded him that he was totally bare in between.
Alone at last with his mother he was about to remove his dummy and explain
everything to her when she pushed open his bedroom door. He was
dumb-struck. His room had been completely converted into a nursery just
like the one at Ms. Ingram’s. He now had a cot instead of his bed. His
play-station had been replaced by a play pen full of blocks and dolls. His
study table and chair had been replaced by a high-chair and changing table
stacked high with cloth nappies.
The wardrobe door hung open revealing that all of his shirts and trousers
were gone and now several baby dresses in various pastel shades were
crammed in with their huge petticoats fighting for space.
His mother pulled open a drawer which was packed with bonnets, panties,
socks and tights in all the matching colours as his dresses.
He could see immediately that thousands had been spent on his new
furniture and baby clothes. He knew that it would be futile to explain to
his mother now that this was all unnecessary. He could see that his
immediate future was in nappies and baby dresses and the only question was
for how long. With all this money spent it was not going to be only a
matter of weeks. That was obvious.
His mother saw the tears streaming down his face and the dummy moving
rapidly in and out. Then he looked down suddenly. “Have you wet yourself”,
she enquired. He nodded glumly and she hugged him. He hugged her back ever
so tightly.
When he was changed he thought about trying to explain everything to his
mother. Maybe there was a chance he could still be spared. But then he saw
in the corner of the room the equipment for administering enemas and
alongside it was a butt plug. He decided it was in his own interests to
say nothing.
Later he napped in his cot contemplating his dilemma. To say nothing was
to accept that he was going to be kept in nappies and baby dresses for the
foreseeable future. But it was obvious that any dissent would have very
unpleasant consequences. He decided that his nappies were much more
comfortable without a butt plug.
-
Sorting out Simon - Not the EndSorting out Simon - Not the End
Username: DaraJaney, Sep/20/2005 17:10:01 [-04]
Ms. Ingram gave his mother contact details of another mother who’s son
ended up being kept as a baby girl. They paid a visit.
Mrs. Coyle introduced them to Gary. “He’s been kept as a baby girl now for
two years.” The two teenage boys exchanged sympathetic looks. “And he’s
been in nappies all that time?” Simon’s Mum asked. “Well, he couldn’t do
without them now”, Mrs. Coyle told them. “He lost control after a few
months.” Gary looked down sadly at the doll in his hands. “So I couldn’t
let him out of nappies now even if I wanted to – and I don’t anyway.”
“Does he still resist being treated like a baby?” Simon’s mother asked.
“He tried to at first but you only had to show him the butt plug and that
would be the end of it. He’s a little angel now. Does absolutely
everything his Mummy asks him. I just wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Gary looked quite morose at this reminder that his situation was
effectively permanent. He had given up all hope of ever getting out of
nappies or his baby dresses.
Mrs. Coyle went over to him and took the dummy from his mouth. It was
obvious to Simon and his mother that Gary was not happy that she had taken
it from him. He repeatedly looked anxiously at the dummy in her hand.
Simon looked at Gary wondering if he would end up so completely babyish
too. Gary looked back at him recognising the desperate hope in his eyes
that his predicament would not be permanent. He wondered how long it would
be before Simon was forced to accept that this was the way things were
going to be.
Then it occurred to his mother that Ms. Ingram had told them at the start
that her procedures for bringing boys into line were 100% effective. But
here was another boy for whom it had not worked.
When she said this to Mrs. Coyle they decided to ring Ms. Ingram. “But I
HAVE been 100% successful”, she insisted. “Every single boy sent to me is
now an adorable baby girl and all of their mothers are delighted and
intend keeping them that way.”
Gary and Simon looked at each other nervously. Their mothers exchanged
looks too, then both looked down at their boys in their adorable dresses
and they smiled.
<Concluded>