Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: derry on March 17, 2009, 05:37:19 PM
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I started at the Temperance Girls’ school in 1970, its centenary year. It looked like the school was doomed; it was an American Public school for girls from 5th grade to High School. We had a Civil Rights Act and people were saying the one-sex schools were discriminatory.
My brother was able to help save the school.
I was Christened Deirdre Anne Sulivan. My friends call me Dee. My younger brother was Ulysses Hector Sullivan. He was nearly two years younger than me and because of his age 3 grades behind me. Kids thought he was gay- though they used a nastier word starting with F.
He was often called ‘Sissy’. This was kind of true.
At grade school I sometimes took on boys who tormented my brother. It probably did not help. But well I was and am pretty big and strong.
It was true that he was ‘A friend of Dorothy’. Back in 3rd grade Dorothy Jemima Jackson she took over the task of standing up for poor ‘Sissy’.
I liked that my brother was gentle and kind. For his first few years Dad hit him a lot for being gentle and kid. He hit me a lot because I did not like pretty frocks. He hit Mom a lot because he was not a nice guy.
I was glad when my parents divorced. Ulysses did a lot of the housework. I did not like chores I was happy about that. I did keep it a secret that he borrowed my old clothes. Actually I confess that party dresses suited my brother better than they did me.
I had not liked 5th grade at the Temperance. I thought that the shortish pink jumper dress and the pale blue blouse was not what I wanted to wear. The short ankle socks made us feel even more childish.
One good thing about the school was that if you did well in tests you could skip grades. Pretty quickly I got to wear the 7th grade more grown up skirt and jacket type uniform.
The summer before 5th grade my brother did not go out much. He spent all his time at home. He was mainly wearing my old things. Mom, working long hours, kind of knew what was happening and wished it wasn’t.
I always wore pants, as did Dorothy Jackson. She was a regular visitor. Ulysses could cook quite well. This was quite nice for us. We did tease him and call him ‘sissy’ but he did not seem to mind.
Ulysses had been bullied a lot at the regular school he went to. He was terrified of losing his friend and protector when Dorothy went to the Temperance, as her Mom insisted.
Now the legal defense the Temperance School (which had dropped “girls’” from its title) said that any student was welcome but of course all had to wear the same uniform.
So my brother went to the same school as me. Two other boys also attended that year. I am pretty sure that they, in fact were gay.
Ulysses told me that he was not gay. He always explained:
“I like girls, I like being with girls, why would I love a guy.”
Now the school was progressive in lots of ways. We did have practical subjects like needlecraft and home economy. But we also had shop and woodwork.
I learned how to do wood and metal work (as well as being very proficient at math). Ulysses – who seemed to embrace the name ‘Sissy’ did needlecraft.
My brother had grown his hair quite long. It was longer than mine. Most girls thought him strange and did not talk to him. Dorothy stayed his friend. Two particular girls- Lorraine and Hilda- bullied him all the time.
One day they went too far. They hit and kicked him and hacked at his hair.
The next morning we had an assembly for all the girls in the school. Lorraine and Hilda were paddled, on their bare asses, in front of everyone. There were cheers at this. Nobody tried being nasty to our ‘different’ students anymore.
Dorothy married my brother just after they both graduated college. She went into a bank. He designed pretty dresses for little girls. Though they were conventionally dressed for the ceremony at home where he does most of his work, Ulysses usually prefers dresses.
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Harry’s Story
I did know about Petticoat Punishment. I was mostly brought up in England. The summer I was 10 my, then 14-year-old sister more or less took charge of me. Mom was working long hours and Dad was working away.
Alice was always on at me to do chores, wash dishes, do my ironing and so on. I was also a bit careless. I think I tried to be kind of macho because I was so small. Alice had talked to Mom about me. I overheard
“Harry’s very boisterous.”
I remarked:
“Of course I’m boisterous, I’m a boy.”
The next day Alice again asked:
“Why won’t you do your ironing?”
I replied:
“It’s girl’s work.”
There was a telephone call from Dad. I said ‘Hi’. Mom was out. Alice talked to him for a long time. I went out and found ways of getting my clothes muddy – perhaps a little immature for a 10 year old. I did not hear the conversation.
The next morning, just before Mom left for work, Alice more or less pulled me out of bed. She kind of dragged me downstairs for breakfast. I was still in my pajamas.
“Harry, from now on you will do what your sister says. If you disobey her she has my permission to spank you and there are some other punishments.”
Mother added:
“Harry, I know it’s earlier than usual you’d better have your bath now so can get started on your chores.”
I took a very long bath. My baths usually lasted about half an hour because I like to soak. That day I was there for nearly an hour. I did not like the thought of the housework I might end up doing.
I was surprised and embarrassed when I saw Alice in my bedroom.
“Harry, I’ve got some good news for you. Although all your clothes are dirty you don’t have to wash and iron any of your stuff….”
She looked too pleased. I guess I should have realized that she had something in mind.
“You’ve got an entirely new wardrobe, well not quite new.”
She opened the closet. It was full of girl clothes. I later found out that Alice had worn this stuff when she was a bit younger then me. The family had not been good at throwing old things away.
“Now do you need any help in getting DRESSed?”
I yelled:
“You bitch.”
I just sat on the bed for 10 minutes and looked at a wardrobe full of clothes designed for a rather little girl.
The door opened.
“Oh well, I will have to DRESS you.”
I did not resist as Alice took of my pajama top and put a rather frilly blouse on me.
“Stand up.”
I obeyed. My sister was quite a lot bigger than me and she pulled down my blue pajama pants.
“Sit down.”
Again I obeyed. Pink panties with cartoon figures were put over my feet. There followed pink ankle socks. I allowed my sister to lower a pink and white jumper style dress on me. The sandals I was given were flat rather than heals but were certainly not boyish.
I saw myself in the mirror. My longish hair was not styled for a girl. I was obviously a boy in a dress. I was also alarmed at how short the frock was. I could almost see those very juvenile cotton panties.
Alice took my hand and led me down stairs. Five days of dishes were waiting for me. I let Alice lower an incredibly frilly apron over my head, to protect my pretty clothes.
After about five minutes of dish washing the doorbell went. In came Alice’s friend, Jane. She brought with her two sisters- Molly and Gwen. Gwen, about 8, was taller than me. She was wearing pants and a shirt and you might not be 100% sure whether she was a boy or a girl.
Molly was 17. I did not know her significance yet.
I dropped a washcloth and had to pick it up. Gwen joyously yelled:
“I see England, I see France I see Harry’s under pants- or panties.”
There were one or two other comments but mostly it was just that I knew that the girls were watching me. When I finished the dishes Alice inspected them. Half the pans and a quarter of the dishes and cups did not satisfy her. I had to wash them again.
At last my task was finished. I thought things were going to start to get better. I was wrong. Gwen said:
“Jane, can we go to the park, me and my new little friend Harry. I’m sure all the girls will LOVE to see his pretty frock and cute undies…”
I was horrified:
“NO![/i]”
Alice said:
“Harry doesn’t want to play. He must want more chores.’
I spent the rest of the morning Ironing. My back started to hurt. Just after midday I was ready for lunch. The girls had other ideas. Alice explained:
“Molly does home hairdressing. She’s going to adjust your hair.”
Molly remarked:
“In the long term a child wearing that kind of frock would probably look best in sausage curls- but right now lets try pigtails.”
I had to sit down whilst a hairbrush and a comb were applied, none to gently, to my less than tidy hair. Then a mirror was arranged so I could watch the 17 year old carefully braid it into pigtails. Delicate pink and white ribbon bows finished the effect.
“Hattie, would you set the table for four.”
I counted. I assumed that probably Molly would be going back to work. I could smell my f favorite food being cooked.
A few minutes before lunch I had a couple of nasty surprises. Alice told me
“Hattie, you’ve been disobedient so you do not deserve such a nice lunch but you do deserve a spanking.”
I thought the shame would be worst as Alice picked me up, rather too easily and pulled down my childish panties. The pain from the hairbrush hurt far more than the knowledge that Alice’s friends were giggling.
I struggled and kicked and cried. Still it went on for a long time. I spent lunch in the corner. My panties were left around my ankles whilst my dress was pinned up to show the red effect.
I could smell lovely food and hear enjoyment.
After lunch there was one other punishment. I had to write 400 punishment lines. I had to do this on a chalkboard. The line was:
“If Hattie calls a lady a female dog again his mouth will be washed out with carbolic soap.”
I became very careful about language. I only wore frocks for a week.
After that week I was very anxious to do everything Mom and Alice said. I was so glad to iron my pants and stuff and did not object to doing the same things for Alice’s stuff.
I guess over the following few years I sort of forgot those lessons
Now I knew that the American town of Stoner, where we moved when I was 14, had rumors of petticoat punishment being used on difficult boys. I had the memory of it. Still by the time I was 16 I assumed that petticoating, like spanking was something I had long grown out of. I was to prove very wrong.
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Principal Brown’s plans
I was christened Gertrude Chastity. My friends call me Ms Brown. I had been Principal of the Temperance school for 13 years.
My school was incredibly old fashioned in some ways. The uniforms used, and even the fact of a uniform seemed out of date to some. The fact that, although we had stopped being officially “The Temperance Girls’ School” for 35 years earlier did not alter the reality that our students had, with the exception of a few more or less transgendred boys, been just for girls seemed wrong to some people.
Others thought that teaching needlecraft and Home economy seemed wrong. Still lawyers, doctors and businesspeople, who form large proportions of our graduates, still have homes and have clothes. In addition girls learn shop and all kinds of skills that in the past had been seen as ‘boys’ subjects.
In our school we allow bright girls to skip a year, occasionally 2. A few girls have to repeat a year. There had been cases in the past of girls being ‘demoted’ a grade or two. We do our own tests.
We had less delinquency than is common even amongst girls. Pregnancy is rare (though sadly not absent) from our student body.
Our state allows the use of the paddle. Some schools have abolished it. I make very sure that girls know that it is still available. Still, our Physical Education teacher, Ms McReady, has only had to do that particular exercise twice in the previous five years.
Delinquency amongst boys was a different question. I had long assumed that this was not an issue I needed to have anything to do with.
One February day I met Dee Sullivan. Her daughter, Rosemary then 10, was doing very well at my school. She told me about her brother. Then she talked about her nephew, Harry, who was staying with her. Harry had been in a lot of trouble.
So I made plans for 3 new students after Easter break. Normally rather few would start at my school at that time. I telephoned the parents of two girls and talked about approaches to assessment and testing. Those girls no doubt studied hard issues around women’s history, and issues around cooking and safety.
Now in the previous seventeen years we literally had zero male staff members, not even the janitor.
The year I started the male toilets had been adapted to form a disabled accessible facility for the couple of wheel chair users who had started (one staff one student).
We wanted to make sure that those of our teachers who had kids could keep working. We also did not want the dreadful mistake of pregnancy to destroy a girl’s education (nor was I enthusiastic about coercing either adoption or abortion on a frightened kid)
So we had a nursery for about a dozen under fives. Learning about all aspects of childcare in a supervised but hands on way was a part of what we taught.
I talked to senior girls about the plans. All thought it would be fun for the girls. They were even more enthusiastic when I talked about the most obvious practical problem. They thought that my solution was totally appropriate for certain VERY immature teenagers.
Regina and Susanna carefully measured the size and proportions of the changing table in the nursery. Previously they had taken very little interest in childcare issues. Then they went to work at the shop.
In previous years our tests had covered a very wide area of the school curriculum. I had warned a couple of girls about a different approach that particular spring. I carefully wrote a test. I had a fairly good idea of the likely mark of 3 particular new students.
Our three different new students would be age 15-17. Their first mornings would be in 9th to 11th grade. Our fifth and sixth grade teachers also made some particular plans.
All would be ready for our new arrivals.
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Harry’s story continues
It was Spring break and I was 16. Normally I would not look forward to going back to school but that Sunday I was.
We were staying with ‘Aunt’ Dee. Actually she was some kind of cousin, or maybe just a good friend of Mom. Her daughter, Rosemary, seemed incredibly annoying to me. I guess it was the effect of having and ‘instant sister’.
Luckily (as I thought at the time), just after her father’s death something had happened. A combination of nerves and infection meant that the 8 year old wet the bed most nights- until she was put back into nighttime diapers and wet those instead.
I made sure ALL her friends knew of this problem. It meant she was a bit isolated. This was part of the reason she moved to “The Temperance School”.
Now, to get back to my being 16. I was still very small for my age. For a long time I was very embarrassed. However a couple of boys made friends with me. Joe and Frank had tended to get into trouble in modest ways.
They both liked alcohol. I too drank when I could, at least in part to gain acceptance of the more macho group of boys. I was able to help with the process. You see I looked much younger. The older boys would distract the guy running a convenience store whilst I moved bottles of cans of booze. I would then ask, liked a little kid, for candy.
Occasionally I stayed over with Frank of Joe. Usually we ended up on the floor of whosever bedroom it was. Because of the hard cider and other stuff occasionally I soaked the carpet. But often enough Frank or Joe would have done the same. It was not nice but it was not a big deal.
Then, one Friday, a week before the Easter break I managed to help my friends to far more hard cider than usual. I did not remember all the details. However people say we threw stones at a green house, we had pooped on a lawn. Oh and Joe was about to ‘borrow’ his Mom’s car at a time when he was too young to drive and so drunk that he probably should not have even been walking. We got arrested.
As it happened it was a busy night for cops so we were driven home.
*****
As I said I did not remember much about that Friday afternoon and evening. However I remembered the rest of the weekend very well.
It was a very sunny morning. A bit after 10 AM my drapes were opened and the sun flooded in on my room. I noticed my room was full of girls.
Alice, by then, 20, was there. So was little Rosemary. (Actually the 10 year old was taller than me and until her recent diet had been heavier too). In addition there were three of Rosemary’s new friends- Jane, Emma and Marta.
Things felt a bit odd too. My head was hammering away. My sheet felt cooler and smoother than it should. I felt some damp bulk under my pajamas. I had no real idea what it was.
Rosemary pulled off my quilt. Alice grabbed and pulled off my pajama pants. As she did so she explained:
“Rosemary helped me diaper her cousin last night- and what a good idea it was.”
I saw clear plastic panties and a very soggy diaper. I was wearing them. Alice had another surprise:
“The cop said boys will be boys, but that isn’t necessarily so.”
I was allowed to shower on my own. I expected to wear more of Alice’s hand me down dresses. I was wrong.
Rosemary had always been big for her age. Her father liked her to be his ‘little girl’. For a long time she had been dressed accordingly. So instead of wearing my older sister’s ‘hand me downs’ I had to let Alice and Rosemary put me into my YOUNGER cousin’s ‘hand me up’ clothes.
The party dress, which I wore when Rosemary reintroduced me to her friends, was one that she had not liked to wear at age 8. She had thought it made her seem too babyish. It was very fussy and frilly. It had puffy sleeves.
I was ‘allowed’ to play with dolls with Marta’s 6-year-old sister Zoë. Little Zoë played with a Barbie doll. The 6 year old thought that the drink and wet doll she had was too babyish. I had to keep feeding and changing the doll whilst younger girls giggled and teased.
Later I was allowed to wear slightly less childish dresses. This was arranged so that I could more easily tidy Rosemary’s room, whilst she looked teased and criticized.
I do not know whether I hated doing girls jobs or playing LITTLE girl games that Saturday. I am pretty sure that if Alice had worked out which I would have done it all the time. Although it had started out sunny it started to rain heavily.
I was put into a long pink coat. It did hide that I was wearing a little girl dress. Alice wanted to buy one item – a hairbrush. She told the store clerk
“You see Hattie’s hair had been allowed to become incredibly unruly. And in fact Hattie has been rather unruly. I think the right hairbrush can deal with both problems. Have you anything very heavy.”
I recognized the girl behind the counter. She was my age and we had some classes. I hoped that she did not recognize me. Then Alice added:
“I think that pigtails would be best for my BROTHER’s hair. Have you got some pink and white bows?”
The girl behind the counter looked at my face:
“Harry?”
I nodded. Then Alice said:
“You don’t need your coat indoors. Show the lady your pretty dress.”
I more or less cried but I obeyed.
Alice held my hand as she walked me home. The next thing was that I had to submit to Rosemary braiding my hair into pigtails.
Mom came home.
“Someone looks like an innocent young girl. Well appearances can be misleading. We’ve done a deal to keep you out of kiddy prison. You have to apologize to all the shops you stole from. Now how many shops did you take booze from?”
I knew that two shopkeepers had seen me steal drink. I answered
“Two.”
Mom looked at me:
“Hattie, that’s a lie. We have to go shopping again.”
There was a pharmacist quite near by. I was told what to say. I obeyed. I mumbled:
“I told a lie. Have you got some carbolic soap so my Mom and sister can wash my mouth out.”
Alice whispered to Mom and then said out loud.
“Hattie, you’ve got to say it properly, or we’ll spank you here and now.”
So I had to virtually shout about the need for soap to wash my mouth out. After the mouth soaping I listed the 6 stores we had taken booze from.
The soap tasted foul. Rosemary, Alice and Mom each had a turn at washing my mouth out. Then Alice asked:
“Do you still have some valuable old comic books, Hattie?”
I nodded. I thought that things were getting better. I was wrong. Alice walked me into town holding my hand. I carried my classic superman and other old collectors comic books in my bag. I had to sell them to a dealer.
I sold the comics for $283; they should have made twice that. Then I had to start handing the money back. $2 for the soap and $14 for the hairbrush.
Next I was walked to the first liquor store I had helped wrong. I did most of what I was told to. I curtsied and said:
“My name’s Harry Murphy. I helped steal from your store. I am wearing these clothes so I will NOT be too BOIsterous.”
I forgot to hand the lady the hairbrush and say I deserved to be punished. This was a mistake.
Alice took my hand as she took me out of the shop into a mall area and announced:
“My brother is a thief. The cops agreed not to prosecute him if his mom and I could control him. Harry forgot to ask the clerk to punish him. So I will do something now.”
I did not quite realize what was happening. I was four foot eleven and quite slight. Alice was fully six foot tall and very broad and strong. In seconds she was sitting down and I was across her knees. My panties, thick cotton ones with cartoon characters were soon out of the way.
I struggled and protested:
“No, no you can't....”
Within a minute all I could do was cry and kick impotently. Someone thought Alice was behaving wrongly. A cop was called. I did not recognize the sergeant who arrived. Alice did. For half a minute I was kept across Alice’s knees and the cop talked to her.
“This young man is 16?”
Alice nodded.
“He has misbehaved.”
“Yes he has, and his mother has authorized me to use reasonable correction.”
The cop bent down so I could see her face.
“Just to let you know, I think that what your sister is doing is legal and reasonable punishment for your repeated crimes.”
A little later I went back into the shop. Alice agreed to mind the shop whilst the lady took me into a back room. This time the right side of my butt got very red.
Until then I had always gone out on a Saturday night. I had never hit my bed before midnight. This night it was different. Mom gave me some ‘special’ milk and cookies. At just after half past seven Mom explained:
“We need to get you ready for bed by 8, it will be 7 on school night.”
I protested. I was feeling a bit tired but I hated this further indignity
“No, you can’t…”
Mother spoke very slowly and clearly:
“I will not have disobedience. You can either ask me to spank you now, or Alice can spank you now and you can ask me to spank you later.”
It was my first spanking in front of Rosemary. Mom is not as big and strong as Alice but she could make it hurt. I was then told to make my bed. Rosemary got to supervise. She made sure that I put a waterproof sheet on top. Then she said:
“I’ve got a present for you. I don’t wet the bed anymore but after last night Mom thinks you could do with one of these.”
She handed me a diaper. I did not know what to say. Mom came in.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you to your cousin?”
Somehow I managed to say:
“Gee thanks Rosemary.”
Then Mom said:
“I think it’ll be easier if I diaper you. Do you want me to undress you?”
Although I did not like being seen naked I quickly got the childish frock, panties and socks off. Mom indicated where I was to lie down. She powdered me and taped the diaper. My little man started reacting, which was pretty bad.
I planned to take the humiliating garment off as soon as the girls left. I was in for a surprise. Alice came into my bedroom
“We’ve got some new’ jamies for you.”
The pink pajamas had been specially made for me. They were the kind with feet on them. In addition special mittens had been added. After these fittings were slipped over my hands they were strapped in place.
I woke up in a wet diaper.
I spent Sunday either doing housework in somewhat childish dresses or playing LITTLE girl games with other little girls teasing me in VERY childish frocks.
I was put to bed at 7 that Sunday, again in a diaper and restrictive infantile pajamas.
I woke up with a wet diaper on Monday morning. Mom and Alice bathed me. I wore a girlish vest and the thick cotton cartooned panties. I was allowed to wear some pants that Alice used to wear. It was like unisex rather than purely girlish but was not comfortable.
Alice walked me to the school bus stop and held my hand until I got on it. She was waiting when I got off the bus.
Alice again took me into the shopping area. I was first taken into a lady’s salon. My pigtails were replaced by sausage curls, which I would have to wear to school. About half way through I realized I needed the bathroom. I explained this:
“Well we’ve only got a lady’s bathroom but you can borrow Danny’s potty chair.”
One of the staff had a toddler. I had to let Alice pull down my juvenile panties pull my frock out of the way. She put on plastic gloves and held my VERY ‘little man’ as I was sat down.
Next I was taken to another liquor store I had stolen from. This time I asked to be punished when I curtsied and apologized. I submitted to the spanking.
At the school I tried to avoid talking to anyone. I had been warned off talking to Joe or Frank. Several of the girls ‘congratulated’ me on my new perm. Mary Jane Harrison told me:
“I used to love having my hair like yours, when I was 4.”
Spring break was pure hell. I was looked after by Alice and Rosemary who were also taking care of three kindergarten girls. A couple of times I had either left pee stains on the toilet seat or a dress. So I had to ask to ‘go potty’.
Now in England going potty sounded like what a small child did. It was not the same as using the wc. Neither was my experience. The good news was that they did arrange a little screen I was taken behind to be sat on the potty chair. However Mom and managed to get an old fashioned enamel potty. All the little girls I was staying with could hear very clearly each time I did a wee.
So I was sure that when I went back to school things would be better. I thought I would at least not have to wear a frock whilst at school. I was to have lots of surprises.
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My Brother, Josie
My name’s Ann. My brother, who had been called Joe, was the ringleader of group hooligan boys. Dad had let him do what he liked. Then Dad drank too much and got into a car. My father was lucky not to kill or maim anyone but he certainly deserved the 2-year jail sentence he got.
You might have hoped that Joe would learn a lesson, at least about alcohol. You would have been disappointed.
The day after the worst incident- when my brother had thrown bricks at out neighbor’s green house and had emptied his bowels on their lawn, Mom telephoned the prosecutor. She wanted Joe scared. My 17-year-old brother was told he could end up in jail until he was 30. The Prosecutor confirmed that any reasonable and effective form of discipline was legal.
Mrs Brown, from next door, was invited to watch Joe being hit lots of times with a thin bamboo stick. It was lovely when my nasty big bully of a brother cried. I knew Rosemary and I talked to Dee. They told me about how Harry was being punished.
I am like a normal 14-year-old girl. Joe is actually quite a big boy (though his ‘little man’ turns out to be surprisingly modest).
Mom picked out some surprisingly childish frocks that would, somehow, fit Joe. I got to see him trying them on. I was a bit disappointed that he was not paraded around the shop and indeed in the street.
For the next two weeks I had zero chores. Josie had not only to tidy his room but also mine. He learned ironing very quickly. He washed tons of dishes.
I invited friends to see my brother in his petticoated submission.
Joe was spared some humiliations. Harry was regularly taken out in his childish dresses. That was because he did indeed look like a 10 year old, dressed a little young. You could not achieve that with my brother.
Joe wore a training bra and panties under his school clothes for the week before Spring Break. I found several ways to make sure that Joe did not enjoy the week away from School. I invited still more friends to come, and some of them brought cases of clothes needing ironing.
Unlike Harry, Joe was told about where he would be going to school. The first Monday of Spring Break I took him to a specialist shop. It was lovely with little me having my very big brother totally obeying.
I took charge of the purchased for Joseph:
“Next week Josie will be going to the Temperance School. They do not have any bathrooms for boys. So we decided that the best solution would be for him to go to the bathroom in diapers. It would also give girls a chance to practice with pin on cloth diapers without the risk of hurting a helpless innocent infant.”
They did have a private area. I got to practice. On Alice’s advice I bought ‘terry nappies’ of a kind used in England. I chose large square towel type dydees. I pinned two on Josie and was able to fit some rather frilly plastic panties over them.
Next we went to a shop that specialized in stuff for actual babies and bought Josie a diaper bag.
I left my brother in his diapers when we went to the shop that specialized in uniforms for the Temperance school.
Again Josie was not paraded outside but several of the shop clerks came in to check on the fitting.
As I intended the skirts we bought were rather short. It was going to be very hard for Josie to disguise his underwear on the school bus.
Now the Temperance School had girls from 9 or 10, 4th grade up to High School. Up to the 6th grade you had to wear the ‘junior uniform’, which was like a rather short jumper or pinafore dress and pink cotton tights that looked like you were barely out of diapers.
I had been so glad that in early January that year I had done well in tests and got into 7th grade early.
I talked to Rosemary a lot about how things were progressing with Hattie. She mentioned the nighttime diapers, the footed and mittened 'jamies and the special additions to Hattie’s milk and cookies.
My mom had not taken that approach. Instead Josie was put to bed in a baby doll nightie and frilly panties.
However on his first day at the Temperance School we had given him some ‘special’ milk. I did not diaper Josie that morning. Mom did make sure I could watch. She pinned 3 very bulky cloth diapers on my delinquent brother.
I held Josie’s hand whilst Rosemary held Hattie’s. Both young men wore jackets and skirts. Both had diapers on underneath. Hattie found it hard to hide his underwear. Josie simply had no chance.
There was one amazing surprise when the school bus arrived. Frank, that is Fanny, was already there. He had been hard to get up. The 15 year old had in fact always had occasional problems with bed-wetting. He had been slow to get up.
So his wet overnight diapers were left on him as he was quickly put into his uniform, without breakfast.
The first day after Spring break was going to be fun.
-
Hattie’s first day at a new school
I had been surprised to have Alice and Mom bath me on Sunday night rather than on Monday morning. I pretty much knew that my diaper would be wet by the morning. It was.
I did not quite know what was going to happen in the morning. The mittens were taken off my infantile pajamas and I was taken downstairs for breakfast a little after six. Rosemary really beamed when she remarked:
“You’re going to school with me.”
I had seen the Temperance school uniform before and even tried it on. However I really did not imagine they could actually make a boy go there. Just after I had finished breakfast Alice announced:
“It is time to CHANGE your diaper, Hattie Our school does not have bathrooms for boys.”
I was walked upstairs and lay on the plastic sheet on my bed. Alice undid the pajamas. I thought things could not get worse, but they did. Alice lifted my legs. It was Rosemary, 3 years younger than me who pulled off my plastic panties and untapped my very wet disposable diaper.
“Now Hattie, disposable diapers are not good for the environment so during the day you’ll be in cloth diapers…”
I protested:
“But you can’t make me, I don’t have…”
Rosemary picked up the hairbrush and hit me very hard:
“Isn’t the diaper position great for spanking?”
I surrendered and did not protest as two very bulky diapers were pinned around me. I put on the skirt and tunic. Rosemary made sure to hang a clearly marked and identified ‘diaper bag’ on my shoulders.
I had to wait like that for the school bus. You might think I was a girl if you did not know me. I stood very still and so managed to avoid showing off my underwear. It was very clear that Joe had no chance of hiding that he was diapered. His bum was even more heavily padded than mine.
I guess I thought myself luck when I found out that my third male companion was being set to school in already wet dydees.
As soon as we arrived 5 new students were given a test. There were a couple of girls aged 13 or 14 as well as Frank. Joe and me.
I do not like school quizzes. I am not very good at them. This one was impossible. I had no idea, which fabrics should be hand washed and which can be washed by machine. I did not know how long it should take to baked a potato or how long per pound one should leave a turkey in the oven. I did not know when the 19th Amendment was passed. I had sort of heard of Susan B Anthony and Marie Curie. But I was asked to write paragraphs on Rachel Carson, Sojourner Truth and Jeanette Rankin. I did not know anything about them.
Just after the 2-hour test we had a recess. This would normally have been great. But halfway through I had finally given up and soaked my diapers. Near the end Joe put his hand up to announce the same need.
It was Rosemary who came in to ‘check’ our diapers. Frank and I were told that we would be taken to be changed but Joe was told that his need for a change was not urgent. Ms McKay, who was the deputy principal remarked:
“I think it would do this particular immature person some good to soak some.”
We were walked to like a baby nursery, with real babies. It turned out that one of the older girls did have a baby but was still at school. I watched whilst Annabelle talked to her little girl.
“Isn’t Mary Anne a little Miss waterworks? Never mind lets get you all clean and dry.”
I lay on a much bigger changing table. Rosemary took charge, with Ms McKay supervising and lifting my legs:
“Isn’t Hattie a BIG Miss waterworks? Lets get you clean and dry, ready for the next time you go wee wee.”
The three boys were in different classes. I spent most of that day in 10th grade. I did struggle with the kind of history they were teaching. Then, just after lunch Ms Brown came:
She brought with her one of the girls who had sat the test with me:
“This is Ms Bloom. She was in 8th grade but after the test she is more suited to 10th grade.”
The girl looked quite happy. The next announcement was not so good:
Hattie, come here.”
I walked to the front of the class. My diapers were already a bit wet and I was fearing something worse.
“As a result of the test we have decided that Hattie is best suited to 5th grade, in the junior part of the school.”
Ms Brown had one more girl to collect, Ms Williams, who had been promoted from 8th to 9th grade. She also collected Frank, now called Fanny. He was demoted from 9th to 6th grade. Joe, Josie managed to go from 10th to 4th grade.
The fifth grade class had a Phys Ed class. We spent lots of time throwing a big ball. I am not very coordinated. Somehow lots of girls ‘accidentally’ patted my bulky and rather soggy ass. I was teased a lot.
Then it happened. I made a stinky diaper surrounded by 10 and 11 year old girls with also a couple of 9 year olds.
It got worse. The good thing was that it was near the end of the day. The bad thing was how they decided to handle it. Rosemary had telephoned Alice on her cell phone. My own phone had been confiscated.
It would not be hygienic to change my diaper at school. It would not be fair for me to be on the school bus. So Alice arrived and walked me home three miles in a very dirty diaper.
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Rosemary’s story
I do not specially like piss but it was real fun changing my older cousin’s soggy diaper as he lay next to a real infant and lots of girls teased and taunted him. I have to say I was a LOT less enthusiastic about dealing with stinky diapers.
Alice however had a solution to this problem. A 13-year-old boy call Fred who lived 3 houses down our street had been on the edge of the kind of problems Hattie, Josie and Fanny had been pulling. His Mom, Andrea did briefly petticoat him. However she also decided to make very sure that he learned his lessons.
Fred got to do all the dish washing and much of the other washing. Fred’s Dad was not enthusiastic about this. (I heard a story that the guy changed his mind after little trips across his wife’s and his Mother in law’s knees- especially when his Mom offered to join in.)
Now Fred had a baby brother called Charles. Their Mom had noticed how much disposable diapers costed. She decided to save money by using cloth ones and that dealing with that particular laundry would be Fred’s job.
So that afternoon, just after he got home we had Hattie lie down in our rather secluded back yard. A few years back someone had bought gas masks in case of someone or other attacking us. So Alice and I watched whilst little Fred had to pull down Hattie’s plastic panties, unpin his very smelly dydees and get rid of the worst of the mess.
Andrea had also told Fred that he would have more diapers to wash. There was a waterproof area with the soggy diapers Hattie had already used in his diaper bag. For the stinky ones Fred also had to cover them in newspapers.
Once Hattie’s ass was cleaned up I walked him indoors and put him into training panties.
Then Alice and I took Hattie to the uniform shop. Since Hattie would be 5th grade he would need a different uniform. The jumper or pinafore type dress and tights instead of the skirt and tunic.
The lady at the shop found dresses that would fit my cousin but would barely hide his training panties. We were confident that when he went to school double diapered the bulge under his tights would be very obvious.
Hattie’s Mom was told on the telephone about the unexpected accident that Hattie had suffered. She told us she had a solution.
A bit before 7 Hattie was almost ready for bed. Down came his training panties. I guess he was a bit confused when a disposable diaper was placed inside his double cloth diapers. His Mom shaved him down there, and arranged a mirror so that he could watch.
Then she pushed in a suppository, then second and then a third.
I then quickly taped the disposable diaper and pinned the cloth ones. Alice took particular care to make sure that the mittens on his footed ‘jamies were very secure.
Fred and Hattie were both woken at 5.30 the next morning. Fred again had a stinky diaper to deal with. Hattie thought that things could not get worse. Alice had other plans.
As soon as Hattie’s messy diaper had been taken off and he had been cleaned up She produced a large soapy enema. Hattie had to submit to the nozzle going in and being filled with fluid.
Again Hattie was quickly put into 1 disposable and two cloth diapers.
Now the Temperance school teaches all kinds of skills. We have a good shop as well as places for doing needlework and learning other domestic skills. Different girls get slightly different timetables.
Hattie, Josie and Fanny’s timetables included lots of domestic science and needlecraft. There was also lots of handwriting, which they are not good at. Somehow work with wood and metal did not get onto their timetables.
Oh and of course our three special students played a different role in our parent craft classes. They were more practice models than anything else.
Then there was a difference in names. In classes I am called Ms Sullivan. I understand that they changed things so that most of the kids of 4th, 5th and 6th grades also get called Ms. Whatever it might be. Hattie, Josie and Fanny, got addressed by their new given names.
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Troublesome changes
My name’s Diane McReady. I teach phys Ed at the Temperance school. Our girls do very well at soccer, softball tennis and indeed many other sports. I was once a professional tennis player. I have a particularly strong left arm.
Now in our state the paddle is legal. It has rarely been needed at my school. Ms Brown asked me to take this particular responsibility. If a girl needs to be paddles she needs to remember it. Of course I am able to make sure that the paddling hurts a lot.
The usual procedure is that the girl comes to my room. I pull up her skirt or dress and spank over the panties. These protect the child’s dignity but give very little protection to their bottom.
One day I was supervising the childcare class. Ms Peters had ‘flu. Josie had very wet diapers. He needed changing. He lay down next to little Paul (an 11 month old) There were the usual giggles and comments.
Jenny Johnson was only 9. She accidentally stuck the diaper pin into Josie, twice. He then hit her in the face so hard that she fell over.
Two things happened. I remembered what Regina had told me. She had designed the larger changing table. She thought that it would be useful to be able to deal with especially troublesome larger infants at change time and so had incorporated straps.
I talked to Ms Brown. She agreed with me that violence by students was always unacceptable. Josie was a large 17-year-old boy and Jenny only a little girl. That made it intolerable. We agreed that the paddle would be useful. Furthermore she agreed a couple of special features.
Luckily it was lunchtime. My office is very near the cafeteria. I was able easily to bring my special chair there. About a dozen of the students remembered the particular features and use of the chair.
Josie was warned what would happen if he did not accept his punishment. So the 17 year old curtsied in front of a couple of hundred girls and said:
“I’ve been very naughty, please spank me.”
I think Josie might have heard that I usually spank naughty girls through their panties. He might have thought the diaper whilst adding to his humiliation, would save him from pain. He was in for a shock.
I am, at six foot two, a little taller than Josie and much stronger. Still the over the knees position did feel a bit odd. I decided that it would maximize the humiliation. I pulled the skirt of his jumper dress out of the way, and held it there with diaper pins.
Next I pulled down his tights. Josie was a bit surprised when I pulled down his plastic panties. I then unpinned half of his diaper.
I was really pleased at the effect before I even started the spanking. He had the full humiliation of both an exposed behind and his diapers being on very open view. His plastic panties, at knee level limited his use of his legs.
I spread a special cream.
“This is not an ointment, it is designed to make sure that your area is as sensitive as you were insensitive when you punched a defenseless little girl. ”
There were some giggles.
WHAP, WHAP, WHAP!!
In less than a minute the child was crying helpless and trying to kick. The youngest girl I ever had to paddle had been 12, she made less fuss.
From that day on when the older infants were to be changed they were strapped down first. Now a bit later that afternoon I was again there when Hattie very soggy dydees finally needed to be dealt with. When his cousin strapped him to the table. I heard him say:
“B***h!”
I wondered about the paddle. Rosemary had a different idea. She telephoned Hattie’s sister and mother.
Normally our especially difficult students spent there weekends in ordinary little girl clothes and wore either little girl panties or training panties.
This weekend Hattie spent all his time in his school clothes, including the diapers. I had a list of all the girls who heard him say that foul word.
Hattie got to visit each girl and say:
“I am VERY sorry I used a VERY nasty word to you. Will you please wash my mouth out with soap?”
I joined Alice on the Saturday and Hattie’s Mom on the Sunday and got to watch each and every mouth soaping.
PS PANSY AMY could you e-mail me
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Principal Brown’s further plans
Now I had wondered about what I had agreed to. As the second half of that school year went on I knew I was right. I liked the idea of strong and assertive girls. My girls certainly became more assertive. I was also pleased to discover that there seemed to be rather less delinquency amongst teenage boys.
Petticoating was a known punishment in our community. It had been quite effective as a punishment and very effective as a deterrent. However the possibility of a transfer to my school was enough to make any difficult boy do what his mother, his older sister, and quite often his younger sister told him to do.
There was some media attention. Some people said what we were doing was wrong. However the crimes of Josie, Hattie and Fanny were also publicized. So too were the reductions in delinquency.
I got enquiries from all over the state and from out of state. Mostly they were from parents of girls who needed more confidence. Thought there were a fair number from parents and guardians, especially women on their own, with difficult sons.
I had come to the conclusion that my solution to the one purely practical problem had been the most effective at taking difficult boys down a peg or ten. It is hard to be boisterous and macho when you have to ask a 13-year-old girl to change your soggy diapers.
I wondered, however, about whether having a large number of diaper dependent ones at my school. Ms McReady gave me a kind of answer
“The thing is that with these lads we need to start again from the very beginning.”
Now in out town a lot of homes had underground ‘bomb shelters’. My girls got busy in shop and in the needlework room.
I got to monitor the plans for dealing with a large number of new students. I liked the idea of real girls getting an education encouraging female empowerment from an early stage. So we would be starting a kindergarten class.
On the last day of the summer I was invited to Josie’s homecoming. Because Joe had been such a big boy we had to be prepared for some difficulties. Not by accident changing of the three special students had been put off so that by the time they were on their way home all had soggy and sagging diapers.
As I understand it mostly these boys got to wear little girl panties or perhaps training panties from when they got home to when they were put to bed. Josie’s sister Mary Ann had been very busy. She had made a changing table, a crib and a high chair. She also made several more sets of very restrictive ‘jamies with sewn in restrictive mittens.
Joe was not that happy about going down stairs but did what his Mom said. Ms McReady and I followed, as did Mary Ann.
There was a small struggle when the boy saw the room that had been prepared for him. He tried to run away. Ms McReady is both strong and skilled in various unarmed combat techniques. Joe ended up on the floor three times. Then Ms McReady lifted him onto the strong changing table his sister had so kindly made for him.
The child was strapped down, minus his dress. His mother lifted his legs and Mary Ann pulled off his plastic panties and unpinned his very wet diapers.
Ms McCready announced:
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to spank a difficult child in the ‘diaper position’ so now I can find out.”
Mary Ann had folded the diapers ready to pin in place and they were under his hieney. However they gave no protection from the paddle as Mary Ann started the spanking. All of us laughed as he cried- well like a baby.
It was only half past three by the time the child was strapped into his crib. I had given him a bottle-feeding, as had Mary Ann, his Mom and Ms McReady. I thought that he was already wet when he had been given the second, of four distinctly oversized bottles.
Then he was left alone. The light was left on at a low level. Josie could see the babyish wallpaper with teddy bears in dresses and diapers on the wall. There was a mobile above his head. There was a steady, not too loud but definitely audible lullaby on a repeat loop.
I had consulted the parents of the difficult and boisterous immature future students. We wanted them to be wholly disorientated and submissive after the ‘re-birth’ process.
Now Josie was a special case, he being so big. We needed to have a team of three athletic girls available for each feed and change time.
Josie was left in his soggy diapers for 8 hours. At about 11.30 he was changed and fed again. He did not resist too much being strapped onto the changing table. He did prefer dry diapers.
Now a normal new born tends to get feeds every 3-4 hours. Josie, and the others we were ‘re-birthing’ did get 7 feeds every 24 hours. If they happened to be wet or stinky before their feeds they got changed. If they used their diapers during a feed they had to wait until the next one.
However the feeds had varying gaps. Sometimes they would get a new feed after an hour. Other times they might wait for a feed – and stay in wet diapers – for say 8 hours.
Because the nurseries were underground the ‘babies’ did not know what the time was. For the first three nights we added stimulants during the night feeds. We also added sleeping tablets during the day.
After a couple of weeks Josie, Fanny, Hattie, and 14 other difficult young men were wholly disorientated. They did not resist being treated as toddlers.
We arranged a rather special form of childcare for the rest of the summer. A team of High School girls, often by their Mom, supervised each troublesome boy as well. At the same time other girls also got looked after. Each boy had to notice that when they were changed their treatment was exactly the same as a 1-year-old boy or girl.
We had selected the slightly older girls who were most proud of their toilet training.
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The Kindergarten Class
My name’s Robyn. I am 15. I think girls are much better than boys and always have. I was very happy when Mom told us about where we were moving and why.
Lots of kids from High school help out with the kids in classes for younger kids. It was perfectly normal for me to help a couple of mornings at the kindergarten class.
The Temperance School is basically a girls’ school. Until that fall the, youngest girls at the school were in 4th grade. They started kindergarten, pre kindergarten and 1st grade classes.
Now from the age of 9 the students had to wear a uniform. My 4-year-old sister, George, did not have to wear a uniform for the kindergarten class. Like about half the girls in the class she wore pants. However there were three other students who were starting again. One of them, Stephanie, my twin brother had to wear the junior uniform.
Steve had actually spent the summer in diapers and very short dresses. He was grateful for the change, I guess.
There were some differences in the ways the older and younger kindergarten students were treated. The older ones- age 14-8 was all boys. It was understood that little girls cannot be expected to delay going ‘potty’ so they just had to put up their hands and go, or be taken to the ‘little girls room’ right next to the class.
The boys were a bit different. They had to be re potty trained and this might not be easy. Each boy went to school in training panties, terry cloth panties with plastic covering. The boys were told they had to wait until recess.
That first morning all the boys made it to recess. They were then allowed to ‘go potty’. There was a screen behind which the boys were taken behind.
I lifted up Steve’s dress and pulled down his training panties and helped him sit on the potty chair. It was decorated exactly like one designed for a 2 year old.
By the way there had been a problem of self-abuse by out difficult boys. Special plastic chastity devices solved that problem and made it easier for the boys to sit down to pee.
Somehow we had managed to get old-fashioned enamel potties to go into the chairs. They had the effect of loudly amplifying the sound of the not so little one going wee wee.
It was not entirely and accident that on Thursday morning both George and I spent a lot of time in the bathroom. Stephanie was not able to use it before he went to school.
I was not in the kindergarten class that morning but one of my friends told me.
Twenty little girls shouted
“Please Ms Jackson, Stephanie had an accident.”
The training panties could not possibly absorb a 15-year-old boy totally emptying his bladder.
Stephanie’s punishment was ‘being a baby’ for the rest of the day. Of course that included being diapered. His uniform, which gave glimpses of his training panties, was replaced by a much shorter dress.
Whenever he left class an older girl was with him, holding his reins.
At lunchtime he was strapped into a High Chair. Now Stephanie always hated broccoli and liver.
I managed to blend a large amount of liver and broccoli into a kind of baby food. A High Chair was waiting for him.
I lifted up George, and she, shoveled the specially designed meal for her older brother. When he tried closing his mouth Ms Patterson squeezed his nose.
Rosemary, who had been helping the kindergarten class, happened to have mini camera. She took a little movies of Stephanie’s accident in training panties.
Rosemary also took a movie of his spoon-feeding. By the end of lunch hid diapers were very wet. I changed them; again Rosemary saved the story for posterity.
Rosemary e-mailed a copy of movie to Stephanie’s computer. She also e-mailed it to every boy in the class Steve used to be in as well as to his rather large number of EX girl friends.
Four years later
Last year 97 girls and 11 boys graduated from the Temperance School. The girls will go on to be scientists, lawyers, doctors and business leaders.
The boys have all found a new path. 4 of them will marry very assertive ladies. 7 will become housemaids to lesbian couples.
Only a few boys now go to the Temperance school in any one-year. However every boy in our town knows about it. Every boy has learned that it is a good idea to do what his mother, his older sister and indeed his younger sister tells him to do.
The end.