Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => 2011-2018 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: DaraJaney on February 12, 2017, 07:06:21 PM
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Frank's Aunt Teresa had just moved into a house in the country. He hated visiting her with his mother. His Aunt didn't like boys in general and it was obvious. But at least the visit was only for a day.
His mother got a call from her boss. "I'm sorry but they need me to be in London early tomorrow morning. I'll have to go straight there this evening." Frank wondered what he was supposed to do.
"Can you look after Frank for a few days?" she asked his Aunt. Teresa sighed heavily at the prospect. "I suppose so", she answered reluctantly.
Frank was horrified. "But I don't have any other clothes!" he protested. "I'm sure we can borrow some from neighbours", his mother suggested.
But his Aunt wouldn't have it. "I don't know anyone here yet I'm not going around begging for clothes", she insisted. "I'm sure we can find something here." She left the room and the others followed.
She went into a room at the end of the corridor. It was clearly decorated as a girl's room by the previous owners. "I didn't have time to sort through my daughter's things after she went to college. There's lots of old clothes here."
"I'm not wearing girl's clothes!" Frank protested. "I'm sure we can find a few t-shirts and jeans and things", his Aunt replied. Frank was slightly placated but still not very happy at the prospect of staying with his Aunt and wearing girl's clothes – however unisex they might appear.
His mother found a white shirt. "Here! Try this on." He took off his t-shirt and pulled on the white shirt. His mother buttoned it up. It was fairly plain. The buttons were on the wrong side of course and it was a little shaped and gathered at the top of the sleeves but he supposed it would do.
She found a pair of jeans. She made him take off his trousers. On seeing his underpants it reminded her that he would need some underwear. She opened a drawer and found girl's briefs. She chose the plainest white pair. Frank frowned but removed his underpants as instructed and quickly pulled the plain white panties on. They fit ok and didn't look particularly girlish but he was still a little embarrassed just knowing they were girl's panties.
"Now try these", his mother told him, holding up the jeans. But they were cut for a slim girl and wouldn't fit him. She found more trousers but nothing would fit. Frank stood in his blouse and panties hoping something would fit him.
After trying about two dozen pairs of pants his mother gave up. She was running out of time for her train. "Look, you'll just have to wear this." She took a plaid pleated skirt and held it up to him.
"I'm not wearing a skirt!" he protested and stepped back from it in disgust. "You're not wandering around my house in your underwear" his Aunt insisted. "Anyway, it's just like a kilt – like Scottish boys wear." She took the skirt which fastened at the side and wrapped it around his waist, clipping it in place. "There!"
"Mum!" Frank protested but she was smiling. "It won't be for long dear", she told him. He was pushed out of the room and clutched his fluttering skirt which went half way to his knees.
"I need to get a train in an hour, we'd better get along", she reminded his Aunt. "Certainly", Teresa replied. "But he can't stay here on his own, he'll have to come with us."
"I'm not going out in a skirt!" he squirmed at the thought. "It's just a drive to the railway station", his mother assured him, "you just have to sit in the back of the car". Frank couldn't believe it and was almost speechless. "But … it's cold out!" he complained clutching his flared skirt.
"OK", his mother replied and went back into the bedroom. She opened a couple of drawers and went "here!" She held up a pair of white wool-knit tights. "No Mum!" But she had no time to argue. She pushed him down on the bed and pulled the tights over his feet. "It's ok I don't need them", he pleaded. "You said you'd be cold", she reminded him, running out of patience. She pulled the tights up his legs and up under his skirt.
"Right! We need to go now", she insisted, buckling a pair of black t-bar shoes on his feet. Frank stood indignantly and nearly toppled forward from the heels on his girl's shoes. He looked in the mirror. He looked just like a boy in a skirt and tights. "Mum!" She looked at him and saw the same. His Aunt rooted in a box and produced two clip-on hair bows. She slid these in his hair on either side.
It actually did the job surprisingly well and the shaping of his blouse now accentuated his girlish look. He was somewhat relieved that he no longer looked like a boy in a skirt but he sighed depressingly at how easily they'd made him look like a convincing girl.
His mother pushed him out of the room. He was resigned to his fate now. His Aunt opened the front door and he cringed as he was led into the open wearing a skirt and tights. A breeze fluttered his skirt and he smoothed it down nervously.
Even during the short walk to the car he felt the tights pulling down a bit. He sat into the back and reached under his skirt and pulled them up again. His mother saw him and smiled. "Problem?" He just sighed. The last thing he wanted to start was a conversation about tights. Questioning things only made it worse, it seemed.
They arrived at the railway station. There was a sign at the entrance saying that the London train was delayed for an hour. They all sighed. "I'd better park and we can go for a cup of tea", his Aunt said. Frank cringed. "Can we not just stay in the car?"
But his Aunt parked and his mother opened the door for him. There were a lot of people around and he didn’t want to create a scene and draw attention to himself so he clutched his skirt as he stepped out of the car. They headed for the station café. Frank winced. There were hundreds of people around. He tried to walk like a girl. The last thing he wanted was for people to realise that this was a boy in a skirt and tights. His mother noticed this and smiled.
By the time they sat at a table he was really convinced that his tights were pulling down so much that the panty part would soon be visible. She couldn't reach up under his skirt here in the middle of crowds.
A teenage girl looked him up and down and smirked - no doubt thinking that he was a bit old for white tights and bows in his hair. He was fairly sure that she didn't realize he was a boy or the reaction would surely be greater.
He fidgeted uncomfortably in his sagging tights. "What's wrong?" his mother asked. He went red in the face. He whispered as softly as he could. "These … " he had to brace himself even to say the word "… tights are pulling down." His mother giggled. "Well there's a Ladies toilet over there if you have to do some rearrangement."
Frank scampered across the room and into the Ladies. He went into a cubicle and pulled his tights up as far as he could. He smoothed down his skirt again and went out.
He was paranoid and convinced that everyone was looking at him and smirking. He couldn't wait for the hour to be over. Eventually they stood up from the table. He tugged the hem of his skirt down as far as he could. They went out to the platform.
The train was arriving. As it ran past a gust of wind caused Frank's skirt to flap right up about his waist. He pushed it down desperately and squirmed as he tried to hold it down. His mother had seen the bulge in the front of his tights and hurriedly looked around at other bystanders but they were all just laughing at Frank's misfortune.
His mother took one last look at her son in his skirt and tights. She adjusted one of his bows and smiled. "You be good for your Aunt and do everything she says", she instructed him. He didn't like the sound of that. His Aunt smiled at him in a way he didn't like at all. She never smiled at him.
"Promise?" his mother pressed him. He really didn't want to promise but what could he do? "Yes", he muttered. His Aunt looked very pleased with herself.
His mother got on the train and it pulled away. This time Frank clutched his skirt against any gusts that might be generated.
"Right! We have a little shopping to do", his Aunt announced and strode off. Frank was distraught. He just wanted to get back in the car and out of people's view. But he had no choice but to follow her.
She did the rounds of the shops in the nearby mall. Frank's tights were slowly slipping down. He was able to check in the plentiful mirrors that nothing was showing yet. Just about every teenage girl that he encountered smirked at his sissy appearance.
Eventually they went back to the car and he was so relieved to get out of sight again. When they pulled into his Aunt's driveway, a couple of neighbours were out in their garden next door. Frank sank down in the seat hoping not to be seen but his Aunt hopped out and immediately addressed them.
The neighbour looked curiously into the car. "And who do we have here?" she asked. His Aunt looked at him in the car. "Come along Cindy. Say hello to Mrs. Smiley." Frank cringed. Cindy! He had no choice but to step out of the car. He said hello in as girlish a voice as he could manage. "And this is Chris", the neighbour introduced her daughter who was probably only about 6. Frank said "hi" unenthusiastically.
"Cindy is staying with me for a few days", his Aunt explained. "Great", Mrs. Smiley replied. "Why don't you come over and play with Chris tomorrow morning?" Frank tried to hide his disgust at the thought. "She'd love to", his Aunt answered for him.
He was relieved to get into the house but realised that his Aunt was not going to let him hide away indoors in his skirt. He was also going to have to sleep in that girly room with its pink frilly duvet and lacey pillows.
His Aunt laid a pink nightie for him on the bed. He was too weary to complain and slept in that all night. He didn't sleep well and every time he woke, he could feel the soft frilly nightie and was reminded of his predicament and the fact that he was going to have to play with a six year old girl tomorrow wearing sissy girl's clothes.
His Aunt woke him early in the morning. She displayed a cheeriness he'd never witnessed before and which didn't match his own mood.
"I must find you a nice play dress for your visit next door", she informed him. She rummaged in the boxes and found a yellow dress and went off to iron it. Frank lay back in the bed dreading the day.
He was relieved to find another pair of plain white briefs and pulled them on just before his Aunt returned. She threw the dress over his head and zipped it up. He looked in the mirror. It was really short – just about covered his bottom by an inch or two. It also flared from breast level and the collar, hem and sleeves were trimmed with lace.
He tugged the hem as far as it would go and gave his Aunt a pleading look. "A play dress is supposed to be short – you don't want long skirts getting in your way all the time while you are playing!" He looked in the mirror again and sighed. His Aunt found another pair of white tights and handed them to him. He reluctantly pulled them on.
"And you'll need these", his Aunt said as he looked up. She was holding a matching pair of yellow panties with rows of lace across the seat and around the leg openings. "No way!" he protested. "They go with the play dress", she insisted, "and because it's so short you need to wear something nice there because people will see". That only made it worse! But she pulled the panties over his feet and up his legs.
"And they will keep your tights up", she explained. The panties fitted tightly over his bottom. She was right about keeping his tights up, he realized. With such a short dress they were bound to be seen if they sagged. But he couldn't believe he was in this situation. His Aunt clipped two yellow bows in his hair.
He did look like a girl, he realized. But a four-year old one! He reached up to adjust one of the bows and his dress rode up and exposed his frilly panties. He quickly tugged his hem down again. "Well if you're careful nobody need see your panties", she told him. But it seemed to him that almost anything other than standing bolt upright with his hands by his side would reveal his frilly panties.
She propelled him out of the room before he could protest any more. After breakfast she led him around to the neighbours. He tried to hold his dress down firmly as he walked. Another neighbour looked up from her flower bed and stared at the odd sight.
He was desperate to get inside out of view. It seemed like an age before Mrs. Smiley opened the door. When she did she put her hand to her mouth immediately to stifle her surprised at how "Cindy" looked. "My, what a pretty dress", she managed to say. Frank cringed. "Say thank you", his Aunt admonished him. "Thank you, Mrs. Smiley", he uttered. "What a good girl!" she praised him and he flinched at being called a girl.
Chris appeared wearing a t-shirt and jeans and seemed just as amused at Frank's appearance. "Let's go and play with my dolls!" she suggested enthusiastically. Frank winced. "Run along now", his Aunt prompted him. He walked carefully hoping his dress would not flutter and show anything.
Chris's dolls and doll house were in the conservatory. The ladies took tea and watched the children play through the open French windows. Frank was mortified having to dress dolls and play with them. At first he was desperately careful not to bend forward or do anything to expose his underwear but gradually he forgot.
"Hand me that hat", Chris asked him. He leaned forward to pick up the doll's hat. "Oh what pretty panties", he heard Mrs. Smiley remark and he froze and cringed before settling back.
When his Aunt was finished the tea, she went to leave. "I can give Cindy her lunch and she can stay until about 5", Mrs Smiley suggested. Frank cringed. Playing girly things all day! He looked desperately towards his aunt for a reprieve. "Excellent!" was her reaction and he slumped.
After an excruciating hour playing with dolls, Chris suggested skipping. Frank had to admit that he didn't know how. That didn't put Chris off one bit and she insisted on teaching him.
There was little doubt in his mind as he began to skip successfully that his dress was fluttering up more than enough to expose his matching frilly panties but there was nothing to be done except skip with his back to the house in the hope that Mrs. Smiley wouldn't see any tell-tale bulge in the front of his panties.
The day seemed interminable. When his aunt came to collect him at 5 they were playing hop-scotch. Frank jumped along and his dress fluttered giving glimpses of his frilly panties. Then he had to bend over and pick up the counter. So his entire panties were on show at that point but there was nothing he could do.
"Why don't you skip to that rhyme Chris taught you" Mrs Smiley suggested. Frank winced. His aunt was intrigued. Frank took the skipping rope unenthusiastically and started to skip. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this.
“I am a pretty little Dutch girl
As pretty as pretty can be
and all the boys in my hometown
are crazy over me.”
His aunt was delighted. "Again! " They all demanded it. Frank skipped again singing the mortifying song with his dress ballooning on each descent showing his lovely frilly panties.
Of course his Aunt committed him to coming back the next day for more play. He just wanted to die.
The next day his aunt dressed him in a baby blue sailor dress that was similarly short and came with matching frilly panties. He knew there was no point complaining.
The third day offered the hope of a reprieve. The ladies wanted to go to the hotel for a fancy lunch. He would be excused having to play with Chris and wouldn't have to wear a play dress. However, as he stood in front of the mirror he wondered if this was any better.
He was dressed in a pink jacket and skirt with a white frilly blouse. The skirt had layers of fluffy petticoats underneath. He wore lacey patterned white tights and higher heels. His Aunt placed a white hat on his head, pulled white gloves on his hands and gave him a white purse to clutch. And he was going to have to go out in public dressed like this! He longed for his short play dress and dolls.
When he walked he discovered that his petticoats had a life of their own as they swished and fluttered. And when he went out in the air it was worse. His hat was almost blown off so he needed one hand to keep it on and the other hand clutched his purse. There were no hands left to try to stop his petticoats from billowing around.
In the hotel, his heels clacked loudly on the tiled floor causing everyone to turn around and look. He wanted to move as quickly as possible but the heels forced him to take small dainty steps. His petticoats swirled as he tottered along clutching his purse nervously.
Each day his mother called to say that she couldn't come back yet. He was under instructions from his Aunt not to complain about being kept in girl's clothes since his mother was under enough stress. Of course his mother asked about his clothes and what he was doing. He tried to give as little information as possible. "Oh a yellow dress. I just played with Chris." But when his Aunt got the phone she filled in the details. "He looked so pretty in his yellow play dress and matching panties. I think he really loved playing with dolls and skipping." He could hear his mother tittering on the other end of the phone.
Eventually his mother returned on Friday night. He stood on the railway platform in a floral dress with a single petticoat peeping from beneath the hem just above his knees. His white tights also had a floral pattern. "Oh how pretty!" his mother gushed. He cringed. "He wanted to look his best for you", his Aunt added disingenuously. Frank looked around nervously to see if anyone heard her refer to "he" and "his".
On Saturday he asked if he could watch the football final that afternoon. His team were favourites to win. His mother was not sure that he should be watching football and getting excited about it when he was supposed to be a girl. He wasn't sure if she was joking. Lots of girls liked football – though admittedly such girls didn't tend to wear frilly dresses like his!
As it happened Mrs. Smiley invited them all to watch the match in her house on the big screen. Frank smiled on hearing of this. "Cindy can play with Chris while the rest of us watch it", she continued. His smile fell. "Perfect!" his mother concurred.
He was under instructions not to show any enthusiasm or interest in the football. He had to wear his yellow play-dress and matching panties.
They sat around the TV watching the pre-match warm-up and eating sandwiches. Frank sat quietly hoping that they would forget about him and he could watch the match after all.
As the teams lined up for kick-off and his excitement grew Mrs. Smiley stood up. "Right Cindy and Chris, off you go!" He wanted to cry. He put down his cup of tea and stood, carefully tugging his short play dress down. He walked towards the conservatory. Chris was excited. "I've got a new baby doll!"
So Frank sat in the conservatory in his yellow play dress with matching panties and white tights, yellow bows tied perkily in his lengthening hair while the others watched the match. He could hear the roar of the crowd and the reactions of the others but couldn't hear the commentary to know what was happening.
It was clearly a classic final. It sounded like there were goals every few minutes but he couldn't tell who was leading. Chris wanted to go outside and skip. He sighed but reckoned he was only torturing himself and would be better off not able to hear anything. But even as he skipped and gave the ladies lovely glimpses of his frilly panties, he could hear the crowd roar from the nearby stadium.
Chris took out a doll's pram and placed her new doll in it. She pushed it around for a little while before inviting Frank to. He was relieved to be excused the skipping. His mother looked out. The pram was small and low for Frank so he had to lean forward to push it and in doing so the first two rows of lace on his panties were visible.
At half time they were called in for tea. Frank went in excitedly wondering what the score was. It was three-all! He couldn't believe he was missing this. Once again he tried to keep a low profile hoping that they would forget about him.
He still clutched his tea cup as the second half kicked off. His side launched an attack. Then Mrs. Smiley stood in front of the TV. "Off you go now!" Frank was distraught. He wasn't going to see any of the match. He stood and tugged his dress down.
"Chris why don't you wheel the pram around the block?" her mother suggested. "Yes! Let's!" Chris responded. Frank winced at the prospect of walking around in public in his short play dress and tights pushing a doll's pram.
His mother watched as they went out the gate. Chris left the pram for Frank to push. He pushed it out the gate onto the road with his frilly panties showing. Then she saw some boys run along and they laughed and pointed, presumably at Frank's panties.
It took them at least half-an-hour to get around the block as Chris kept stopping to examine flowers and things. When his mother saw them come back in the gate, Frank was desperately trying to push the pram without bending forward and his free hand tried to hold the back of his dress down.
Back in the garden they could hear the shouts and roars as the match reached its climax. Frank desperately wanted to see or at least know what was happening. Instead he had to sit there in his play dress and tights and brush a doll's hair.
Eventually the matched finished and they went in. Frank couldn't ask what had happened as he wasn't supposed to be interested. His mother looked up. "What a draw!" she mentioned. He was kind of relieved. He would be able to see the replay. "Replay next week", she continued.
Frank smiled. "Oh, and, the company called and they need me in London again this week." Frank's smile fell. "Great!" Mrs. Smiley reacted. "We can do the same thing next week for the replay." Frank wanted to cry. Another week in sissy clothes and another match missed playing with dolls!
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His mother's stay in London was extended for a third week leaving Frank stuck in girl's clothes again. When she returned at the end of that week she asked how he was doing. Clearly he wasn't happy having to wear sissy dresses and tights and play with dolls every day. "It wouldn't be so bad if I could even look a bit older." His mother looked thoughtful. "OK. So you want to look older. We can arrange that."
The next morning his mother appeared in his room to help him dress. She held up a corset. "What is that?!" Frank asked. "You need to have a more grown up shape", she told him. She pulled the corset down over him and started pulling on the strings. When it got really tight he begged her to stop. "Don't be silly", she responded and tugged harder until she had established an hour-glass figure and then she tied the strings.
"You …. can't … be … serious", he gasped, barely able to breath. His mother just shoved rolled up socked into the bra cups of his corset.
Then she took a pair of barely black stockings and rolled them up his legs attaching them to the suspender straps on his corset. When he stood up the stockings and suspenders stretched and when he walked across the room he could feel them move with every step. It was a most peculiar feeling.
Then she threw a blue dress over his head, pushed his arms in the sleeves and zipped him up. It had a pleated skirt that fell just above the knee.
She pushed him down on the bed and slipped a high-heeled shoe onto his right foot and buckled it around his ankle. Then the same with his left. She pulled him up to his feet and he almost fell forward the heels were so high.
"How can I walk in these?!" he protested. "All ladies can, so I don't see why you can't. You'll have a chance to get used to them while I do your make-up."
So Frank sat uncomfortably in his corset, the suspender straps digging into his thighs and his feet already starting to feel sore in the heels even though he'd hardly walked in them yet.
The whole make-up routine seemed to be interminable. His mother first applied foundation all over his face. She then enhanced his eye-brows and drew on eye-liner. Then she brushed on a blue eye-shadow.
Then she started working on his nails which he hadn't bothered to clip in a while. She shaped them with a nail file and then painted them red. Frank protested all along but she just told him it would give him an appreciation of the trouble that women went to in order to make themselves nice for men.
She applied a matching red lipstick and Frank watched worriedly as she picked up what appeared to be false eyelashes. She ran glue along the edge and told him to close his eyes. He wanted to protest again but she'd ignored everything up to now so there appeared to be no point.
When he opened his eyes again he felt the sweep of his long eye-lashes. When he lowered his gaze he could see the voluminous false eye-lashes at the top of his sight. The slight discomfort of the heavy eye-lashes seemed to make him blink more often which he knew must be enhancing the effect.
His mother clipped on some dangling silver ear-rings, slipped a few rings on his fingers, bracelets on his wrists and draped a necklace with shiny red stones.
His Aunt walked in just as he was pulled to his feet and was very pleased with the effect. Frank just winced with the discomfort of his corset and high heels. He involuntarily fluttered his eye-lashes embarrassingly. He tottered across the room still disbelieving that anyone could walk in these shoes. His suspenders and stockings stretched noticeably having slipped down while he was sitting.
All over his body were strange feelings. The earrings tugging at his ear lobes. The rings on his fingers and the bracelets slipping up and down his wrists as he raised and lowered his hands.
He felt like a tightly wrapped and heavily decorated package – which did make him wonder about women presenting themselves to men like this.
"I've made the booking with the hairdressers", his Aunt announced. Frank frowned. Was that for him? His mother handed him a black hand-bag and said "right, off we go!"
Frank was seriously reconsidering his desire to look more grown-up as he stumbled towards the door. "Please Mum. I was wrong. I don't really want to look like this."
"Don't be silly dear", she dismissed him. "We've spent over an hour getting you ready. You're going to spend at least today dressed like you asked."
Frank couldn't envisage how he could spend a whole day trussed up in this corset, stockings and suspenders and high-heels. "We've an appointment with the hairdresser, then we go shopping in the city, have lunch, more shopping and then I've booked a nice restaurant for this evening." Frank winced. It was clear he was stuck in this get-up until late that evening.
At the hairdressers he tried to follow what his mother was asking for but it was all a foreign language to him. But his hair was washed lots of lotions were rubbed in and there was a little cutting, rollers were inserted and hairpins stuck in and he found himself with his head under a drier for what seemed like ages.
When everything was removed again he had quite stiff wavy hair and he was thoroughly depressed how convincing he looked now as a grown-up girl. He clutched his hand-bag nervously as they walked him out of the hairdressers and into the rest of his day.
He'd never felt so uncomfortable in his life. His corset dug into him, the suspender straps likewise and his heels were agony with all the walking around shops. His eyes felt heavy with the false eye-lashes and even his earlobes aches from the clip-on earrings.
His mother and Aunt were most pleased though. They loved the way the corset made him sit up straight, how the heels forced him to take short feminine steps, how the eyelashes made him flutter so much. Frank was just mortified and his heavily dressed-up and made-up appearance was attracting plenty of unwanted attention. But in the city he was miles away from the comfort of his home and the desperate thoughts of finally ending this torture.
But he did get home around 11pm. He had looked forward more than anything to getting the damn high-heels off but when he did his foot was still molded into the unnatural shape and it took him several minutes to ease his feet back into walking flat on the ground.
He unclipped his stockings and finally untied the strings on his corset so he could breathe freely again. It was such a good feeling. When it was all removed he examined the various strap and string marks etched into his body.
He was never so relieved to get to bed – even if it meant wearing a pink nightie with matching panties. But he worried about the next day. He never wanted to wear stuff like that ever again but what would his mother say?
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When he awoke in the morning his mother came into the room. "So what would you like to wear today?" she asked brightly. She picked up the corset which had been resting on the back of the chair. Frank eyed the corset nervously and panicked. He really, really didn't want to wear that again.
He went over to the wardrobe and opened the double doors. He quickly selected a younger looking dress in the hope of avoiding all the grown up torture. He held out the yellow dress. "Can I wear this please?"
His mother was clearly surprised. "Really?" she asked, fingering the childish lace that trimmed the dress. "I thought you wanted to look more grown up." "I've changed my mind", he confirmed quickly. It seemed like a reprieve was possible.
"Well, okay", she said dubiously. She threw the yellow dress over him and it was only then that he realized there were layers of petticoats underneath the skirt. But he was determined to avoid the uncomfortable grown-up look. His mother zipped him up and he saw that the dress was quite short on him. But it felt so comfortable hugging his skin without the intervention of a corset.
His Aunt walked in. "He wants to wear this", his mother told her. She looked at his girlish dress dubiously but said "very well". Frank was relieved. "We have some tights that will go nicely with that over here", she continued. She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of lacey white tights.
Frank cringed but then remembered the uncomfortable suspender straps. Anything was better than that. He reluctantly pulled the lacey white tights up under his petticoats. He looked in the mirror. His dress was so short and so much of his legs were exposed that the lacey tights seemed to go on and on. Still, they felt so comfortable compared to the stockings.
Then he got to wear black t-bar shoes that had a two-inch heel. Quite girly but a lot less uncomfortable than his high-heels.
He was conflicted when he looked in the mirror. He looked so sissy in the yellow dress with its petticoats and his lacey white tights and black t-bar shoes. But it all felt so much more comfortable than the previous day's attire as he smoothed down his petticoats. He was certain he didn't want the corset, suspenders and heels again so he feigned satisfaction with his little girl look.
"I'm sure that dress had matching panties", his Aunt muttered, "ah yes here they are." Frank frowned initially at the yellow panties with lines of lacey frills but didn't want to risk being back in a corset again so he meekly stepped into his frilly panties and pulled them up as far as he could under his petticoats.
His mother and Aunt stood back and didn't look all that happy. Frank waited nervously for their verdict. He tried to look as happy as he could in a sissy dress, petticoats, lacey tights and frilly panties. He placed his hands on his petticoats daintily.
"That hair is all wrong now for those clothes", his mother commented. He looked again in the mirror. It did look odd. A stiff wavy perm with the little girl clothes. "But what can we do to change that new perm?" she wondered. His Aunt opened another drawer. "It will have to be this", she said as she held up a clutch of wires and pins. Frank was puzzled.
But soon his hair was washed, smelly lotions had been rubbed in and his mother and aunt were rolling his hair onto the pins without any explanation to him. When his hair was all tightly rolled up they covered his head with an opaque plastic cap, plugged the wires in and left him sitting there.
Frank sat there very concerned as the pins heated up. He didn't like this at all. But the women were gone and he could hear them in the kitchen with the radio on. As the pins got hotter he got more worried. He tried to get up and move nearer to the door to call out to them but he was tugged back painfully when the wires were stretched to their limit. He had no choice but to sit there and wait.
There was no clock and it seemed like ages until they returned. They unplugged him and removed the cap from his hair. He watched carefully as they unrolled his hair from the pins. His spirits fell as each tight ringlet was revealed and gradually he ended up with a head of hair like Shirley Temple.
His mother saw his crest-fallen look. "Sorry but it's the only way we could erase the adult perm." His Aunt brought over two yellow ribbons and they tied up bunches of ringlets either side of his head with big perky bows.
When he stood and faced the mirror his heart sank. He could see that he was now the ultimate sissy. Was this better than being trussed up in a corset? He wasn’t so sure now. He had to focus on the comfort of his cotton dress and the tights and shoes compared to the agony of the corset, suspenders and high-heels.
His mother studied him. "I'm surprised that you chose that dress to wear. I had expected you'd want to wear your boy's clothes again."
Frank's face fell. "What? …. You mean …." Was she serious? "You mean I could have asked to wear my old boy's clothes again?"
She seemed surprised at the question. "Yes, of course. I don't have to work in London this week so we could have gone home for a week at least ... oh, didn't I tell you? Anyway, I asked you what you wanted to wear. You chose this pretty dress."
His jaw dropped. He thought back at what happened. She was holding the corset when she asked and he had assumed she wanted him to wear grown-up girl's clothes again. He was so desperate to avoid that and he'd never thought she was going to allow him wear trousers that he'd opted for the little girl dress. "But why on EARTH would I WANT to wear this sissy dress?" he asked in incredulous tones holding out his petticoats to demonstrate. Then he realized that he was showing his frilly panties and quickly smoothed his petticoats down again.
His mother shrugged. "I just thought that you had grown to like wearing pretty dresses." Frank just stared at her. He couldn't believe it. He looked in the mirror again. He could be wearing trousers now instead of this yellow dress, lacey tights and frilly panties with his hair pressed into ringlets tied up with yellow bows. He just had to hope he could stay out of sight.
"It's time for us to go to Church", his Aunt interjected looking at her watch. Frank looked at her dumbstruck. He was going to be paraded in front of the whole town looking like a sissier version of Shirley Temple! And he could have been wearing trousers now if he'd only known.
He was distraught. His mother led him out the door by the arm. He was so despondent he didn't even try to steady his petticoats in the breeze even though it might mean his frilly panties showing. What was the point? He was going to be mortified either way. He could feel his hair ribbons fluttering in the wind. His ringlets dangled and his petticoats rocked as he walked down the road.
He saw the crowd arriving outside the church. Heads turned in his direction. He cringed. There was no avoiding it now. He was about to have the most humiliating experience of his life ... so far.
-
Mrs Smiley saw them approach the church and came straight over. “What a pretty dress!” she gushed. Frank was mortified but had to smile and say “Thank you.” He squirmed in his lacey tights as other mothers came over. “It’s so lovely to see a girl who loves to wear pretty dresses!” Frank tried to smile shyly and rest his hands daintily on his petticoats but he really wanted the ground to swallow and open him up.
He watched the mothers smile at his ringlets and pretty bows then they’d look down at his pretty tights and sigh, clearly wishing their daughters would tolerate being dressed like that. A group of teenage girls in slacks observed from the side, nudging each other and smirking. Frank heard snatches of their conversation: “OMG! …. wouldn’t be seen dead … those sissy tights! … can you believe the ringlets? …. What age is she anyway?”
His bows fluttered in the wind. He reached up to steady them and his dress rode up. That caused a burst of laughter from the girls. “I don’t believe it .. matching frilly panties!” Frank dropped his arms quickly and desperately tried to push his petticoats down. But he could hear the girls titter and giggle.
Finally, his mother led them towards the door of the church. The crowd practically stood back to watch them proceed. His mother walked quite quickly and Frank tried to keep up but that made his petticoats sway dangerously so he desperately tried to keep them steady as he scampered along.
Of course his mother walked up to the front row so Frank had to sit with his back to the congregation always wondering every time he stood and sat again whether his petticoats were sticking up exposing his frilly panties. Girls in the row behind were clearly amused by all the nervous attention he had to pay to his dress.
Outside after the service his mother was in no hurry to go so he stood around squirming in his dress and tights trying to ignore the sniggers and titters around him. He attempted to keep looking forward, conscious that any turn of his head caused his ringlets to dangle and his bows to flutter but it was hard not to glance towards the source when he heard another burst of laughter. He couldn’t help wondering what they would think if they thought for a minute that he was a boy!
Appearing in front of the whole town in a sissy dress and ringlets was bad enough but his sausage curls had to be tied up with ribbons every night before he went to bed. Then every morning he had to spend at least an hour in front of the mirror untying his ringlets and then freshening them with a curling tongs. It was hugely demoralising sitting in front of the mirror in a frilly dress and tights making himself look even more sissy before tying his curls up in perky ribbons.
Eventually the perming lotions wore off and by the following weekend his mother was able to use a hair straightener to get him back to something approaching normal. That Sunday Mrs Smiley invited them over for afternoon tea. The local schoolmistress, Mrs Hardright, was there. She queried why “Cindy” wasn’t attending the local school.
Frank’s mother explained that ‘she’ was only staying here temporarily while she was busy in London. But Mrs Hardright was quite insistent that ‘Cindy’ must attend school. Frank had that now familiar sinking feeling. Mrs Hardright was only too pleased to facilitate ‘Cindy’ attending her school.
The following morning Frank stood in front of what had become his least favourite place - the mirror. He was wearing the regulation green plaid gymslip over a cream blouse. He wore bottle green opaque tights and black t-bar shoes. His lengthening hair was tied up with two green ribbons.
He tugged at the hem of his gymslip wishing the pleated skirt was longer. It only went halfway to his knees. He continued pleading with his aunt through breakfast but she was determined to pack him off to school. Little Chris from next door was going to accompany him to the bus stop. She went to the junior school.
Chris called to the door. She was wearing the pink gingham junior school uniform and white ankle socks. Frank was pushed out the door in his gymslip and tights, tugging at his hem as usual.
As they approached the main road they encountered others heading for school. Frank noticed that most senior school girls wore grey trousers instead of his gymslip and tights. There were several boys at the bus stop and they stopped their chatter as Frank approached and all eyes went to his legs. He could see them looking upwards as far as his short hem.
He had to stand nervously with the boys behind him snickering. When the bus finally came the boys jostled for position behind him. When the doors opened Frank could see that they had to ascend three or four steps and the boys behind him were clearing hoping to see up his gymslip. When he had to go the steps up he held the back of his pleated skirt in as far as he could.
The day didn’t get any better as he found that few girls wore the gymslip anymore and those that did, including him, got a lot of attention from the boys.
-
On his second day at school his aunt was called in. Mrs Hardright spoke to her in the office. “I’m afraid that Cindy appears not to have studied most of the subjects that girls take here. I don’t know what kind of school she was in but it doesn’t seem to have done any sewing, needlework , dressmaking or secretarial skills. I’m afraid that I’ve had to put Cindy back into the junior school to catch up.”
“Whatever you think best”, his aunt replied. Then there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” The door opened and Frank walked in. He was wearing the pink gingham junior school uniform and white tights. His hair had been twisted into pig tails on either side of his head and they were tied up with pink ribbons.
“This is the largest size uniform we have for the junior school”, Mrs Hardright explained as Frank tugged the flared skirt of his pink dress down as far as he could. He was at least three years too old for junior school and the uniform was far too short. “That’s fine, it will do”, his aunt assured the headmistress. Frank cringed. He had been desperately hoping his aunt would not agree to this but she didn’t demur in the least.
“I need you to sign this to confirm her assignment to the junior school for the rest of this year”, Mrs Hardright said. Frank winced. A whole year in this short pink gingham dress and white tights?! But his aunt signed without a second thought. He desperately needed his mother to finish her work in London soon so he could get home and out of dresses.
“We have optional extra courses if you are interested”, Mrs Hardright added. “Embroidery, deportment, ballroom dancing for example.” “Oh yes, I’d like to sign her up for those”, his aunt replied immediately. Frank cringed but could say nothing.
“Off you go to your sewing class child”, Mrs Hardright instructed him. Frank replied “Yes Mrs Hardright” in as girly a voice as he could and turned around quickly. His pink dress swirled up and he had to stop and push it down again. He needed to remember how short and flared it was.
At the end of his first week in junior school his mother came back from London looking quite excited. “They’ve asked me to set up a branch in this town!” His aunt was thrilled for her. Frank was concerned what this meant. “So we can stay living with you here”, his mother continued. Frank cringed. “But … but … that means I’ll have to continue … “, he could hardly bring himself to even say it, “ … dressing and going to school as a girl!”
“Oh sweetie but you make such a pretty girl” his mother told him, looking him up and down in his pink dress and white tights. She reached up and straightened his pink bows. That didn’t make him feel better at all. “Please Mum, no!”
“I’ve already accepted the offer”, she informed them firmly. Frank squirmed in his tights and started playing nervously with his pig tails. But his mother had decided. He was staying here as a girl.
About a month before Christmas Frank came home with a note from school. He handed it glumly to his mother. It said that the girls in his class were to perform in the school Christmas concert. He needed to have a pink ballet tutu, pink tights and ballet shoes. His mother tittered as she read the note and observed his mortification.
A couple of nights later Frank duly stood in his brand new pink tutu, pink tights and ballet shoes. The tutu was extra stiff and stood out almost at right angles. In the mirror he could see the bulge in his tights. He pushed his tutu down at the front and that caused it to flip up at the back revealing his full pink bottom.
His aunt told him that, now that he was adept at sewing, he must sew frills across the crotch and bottom of his ballet dress to conceal the bulge. Frank protested but his mother backed her up and soon he was sitting there unhappily sewing the frills on his tutu.
At the first rehearsal when they were all required to wear their ballet outfits, they were all lined up for inspection. When Mrs Bendova came to Frank she took him out of line by the arm.
“I see that Cindy here has embellished her tutu!” She pushed Frank’s back so that he had to bend over and she held up the back of his tutu so everyone could see the rows of frills. “Beautiful!” Frank could feel her tug at the rows of lace as the girls tittered in the line-up.
“That must take so long to do”, one of the girls asked, trying to make the moment last as long as possible. “Did you sew the lace on yourself?” Mrs Bendova asked Frank running her fingers through his frills. “Yes Mrs Bendova”, he replied, still bent over with the underside of his tutu and his pink frilly bottom facing the entire class.
“How long did it take?” the girl asked. Frank was going to cry if he wasn’t allowed to lower his tutu soon. “Two evenings sewing”, Frank replied remembering only too clearly the two dreadfully tedious evenings making his tutu even more sissy than it already was.
Eventually Mrs Bendova lowered his tutu and he was able to stand up and turn to face the girls who were almost crying with laughter. One again he wondered how bad it would be if they realised he was actually a boy. He tried to rest his arms on his stiff tutu in as girlish a fashion as possible. It was mortifying having to act like this all day every day.
When they changed for the second dance rehearsal the hall was still occupied when they got there. So Frank joined the line of girls in his pink tutu, pink tights and ballet shoes. Just then the door to the boy’s changing room opened and the rugby team came out. Frank sighed as he looked longingly at the way they trundled out in their rugby shirts and shorts and football boots.
He looked down at his pink tutu, couldn’t see but felt the warm embrace of his pink tights and cringed. Then the door to the hall opened and the four girls in front of him – the most enthusiastic – trotted eagerly in the door. He was pushed from behind and had to flounce along after them. His tutu flopped up and down so he held the end of the skirt on either side to try to steady it. But the front and back flounced up and down and he saw the boys smirk as they glimpsed the frills under his tutu.
That was bad enough. If they ever found out that he was a boy he was fairly sure they would beat him senseless so again he had to flounce along in as sissy a fashion as possible while they clomped along in their football boots.
-
Mrs Bendova was determined that the class would put up a good show for the Christmas concert and the second rehearsal overran as she drilled them over and over again. Frank looked at his watch and realised that he was going to miss the bus home. It was much too far to walk so he was going to have to get the bus in his pink tutu and tights!
He had just enough time pick up his bag, bending over to shove his school clothes into it with no time to think about his pink frilly bottom facing the class. The bus was already at the stop so he had to run as fast as he could. Again, there was no time to think of his tutu flopping up and down.
The last three boys to get on the bus saw him coming and grinned and waited to get on after him. He was grateful that it meant the bus wouldn’t go without him but he knew only two well that their real motive was to follow him up the steps and see up his tutu.
His hands were full so there was nothing he could do to control his tutu as he boarded the bus. His stiff skirt was wider than the door and bent up as he squeezed through. He heard the boys snickering at his frilly bottom as they came up behind him.
There were no seats on the bus so Frank had to stand at the front. When the bus started he almost fell over and had to reach up and grab a bar to steady himself. With all the other children on the bus in their dark coloured school clothes, he really stood out in his pink tutu and pink tights. All eyes were clearly on him.
When it came to the Christmas concert Frank had no chance of blending into the background. He was about a foot taller than any girl in his class. None of the girls took the dance teacher’s advice so he was also the only one with frills under his tutu.
When he flounced out on stage he saw his mother holding a video camera. He winced as he lined up with the girls and they all curtsied. The stage was raised a few feet and so the angle his mother was shooting from was bound to feature his frills prominently. Then he noticed an entire row of parents with video cameras at the front. His mother and aunt loved showing the video over and over as Frank squirmed seeing the audience’s view of his performance.
When it came to the weekend before Christmas his mother came into his room in the morning and shouted “surprise!” Frank had come to hate surprises. “Your first Christmas dress!” his mother said enthusiastically. She held it up. It was green with red fur lining and a fluffy white petticoat under the full skirt. It came with red and green striped tights.
His mother was insistent that he wear it immediately for their trip to the Christmas market. Frank was ridiculously old for such a sissy Christmas dress and drew lots of looks and sniggers in the crowded Christmas market.
When they passed Santa’s grotto a lady elf at the entrance gushed “what a pretty dress!” Frank tried to smile and mutter “thank you” despite his mortification. “You simply must visit Santa!” the elf insisted grabbing his hand. Frank looked back to his mother desperately hoping for a reprieve but she was already handing the money over to the cashier.
Frank was led to the end of a short queue and he tried to steady his petticoats as all the mothers and little girls in front of him looked him up and down in his Christmas dress and tights. They were clearly amused to see such an old girl queueing to see Santa in such a juvenile outfit.
When it came to his turn he tried to stand firmly beside Santa as he didn’t want to go up on his knee. But Santa was too strong and just pulled him up anyway. Frank sat in the middle of his mass of fluffy petticoats that were now clearly on view to all. His stripey legs dangled over the side.
The camera flashed before Frank had a chance to arrange his petticoats properly and a present was pushed into his hands. He looked dubiously at the big square parcel. “Open it!” his mother insisted. All eyes were on him and he had no choice. He tore away the wrapping and sure enough there was a large Shirley Temple doll within. It only reminded him of his days in ringlets.
So he had to walk around the Christmas market for the rest of the day clutching a large Shirley Temple doll as if his sissy dress with petticoats and striped tights wasn’t bad enough.
-
Not surprisingly on Christmas Day when he sat at the foot of the tree among the petticoats of his Christmas dress, the rest of the presents turned out to be more dolls and sissy clothes. “You won’t have to go to Chris’s to play dolls anymore now you have your own!” Frank looked at his four dolls and sighed.
Mrs Smiley and Chris came visiting. Frank had to thank Mrs Smiley for the pretty doll she gave him and he clutched it pretending to like it. She admired his Christmas dress and tights. “How delightful! I can’t get Chris to wear a dress at all now.” Frank squirmed in his petticoats glaring at Chris jealously in her new pair of jeans.
Chris’s main present had been a computer tablet and she was engrossed in it. Frank looked on with envy. “Why don’t you play with Cindy and her new dolls?”, her mother asked. “Dolls are stupid!” was the reply. So Frank had to kneel in his dress, tights and petticoats beside the Christmas tree and pretend to love playing with his dolls while Chris was absorbed in the tablet. Again cameras flashed recording his mortification for posterity.
It was traditional for children to bring their presents to church on Christmas morning so Frank flounced to church in his Christmas dress clutching the biggest of his new dolls. Chris played games on her tablet as she walked along. Outside the church a stream of neighbours complimented Frank on his pretty Christmas dress and his new dolly. The local teenage girls gathered giving him withering looks and wondering how such an old ‘girl’ could wear such sissy clothes and walk around happily carrying a dolly. Frank could do nothing but squirm in their gaze.
In the New Year his mother sold their house and moved all their belongings into his aunt’s. Frank surveyed his old trousers and shirts wistfully. “We should bring those to the Sale of Work next week”, his aunt suggested. Frank was shocked. “But then I’ll only have dresses and skirts!” His mother looked at him with surprise. “But that’s all you’ll need for the foreseeable future.” Frank was crestfallen. When was he ever going to get out of dresses and tights and back into trousers?
His mother volunteered him to be on the second hand clothes table at the sale of work. So Frank had to hand over his precious trousers and shirts for pittances as he squirmed in a lemon dress and white tights enduring the admiration of all the local ladies.
At the end of the sale there were only a few items left unsold, one of which was one of his pairs of trousers. Another item was a pink frilly party dress – obviously just too sissy for anyone to buy. The lady who brought that dress went to retrieve it and was accompanied by her son, about Frank’s age. Frank’s mother intervened. “Would you like to swap that dress for these trousers?” she asked.
Frank froze. He had hoped to save one pair of trousers at least. “His mother held the pink dress up against him. “It will be perfect for Chris’s birthday party next week.” The other lady agreed, relieved to get rid of the risible dress and so Frank had to hand her his last remaining trousers in return for a frilly pink dress that he was going to have to wear soon. “Your pink ballet tights will go perfectly with it.” Frank cringed.
On the eve of the birthday party his mother showed Mrs Smiley his pink dress. “I’m not sure that many girls come to parties in party dresses anymore, sadly”, she observed. “Well Cindy is just dying to wear this aren’t you?” Frank tried to smile and look enthusiastic about his latest humiliation.
He stood in front of the mirror trying to smooth the petticoats of his frilly pink dress. He had to bend over and straighten some wrinkles in his pink tights. His mother walked in the door and saw the pink frilly pettipants she’d bought for him as he leaned forward. He straightened up quickly.
Then he saw what his mother was clutching – the heated curling pins. “No Mum please!” But he had to sit there as his hair was pressed into ringlets knowing that he would have all the hassle of managing the ringlets for the next week!
Eventually he flounced into the party clutching his petticoats to find very few girls wearing dresses at all – let alone sissy party dresses. He saw all the other mothers smile at his pink dress and tights and his sausage curls tied up in fluffy pink bows. Frank took a deep breath.
-
When late spring came children at the school started playing tennis and cricket in the brighter weather. Frank had always liked playing tennis and watched the boys and girls running around the courts in their white shirts and shorts.
When he mentioned his interest in tennis to his mother, his aunt disappeared into the attic. She came down holding an old tennis dress with a pleated skirt. Frank winced. All of the girls he’d seen at school wore shorts for games. Inevitably his aunt held a pair of old fashioned frilly tennis knickers in her other hand.
So Frank walked out on court tugging the hem of his tennis dress, nervously eyeing the boys who were hanging around at the end of the court. For the warm up, he ran around very carefully, trying to avoid his pleated skirt flipping up and revealing his frills. When he had to pick a ball up, he was very careful to bend both knees and avoid bending over.
The coach came over. “Now let’s practice serving.” Frank cringed. His back was to the boys. He delivered an underarm serve. “No, no!” the coach intervened. “Can’t you do a proper overarm serve?”
Frank braced himself. He threw the ball up and swung the racket. He knew his dress had to ride up and his pleated skirt would swirl revealing the frills on his knickers. The boys’ chatter behind stopped. The ball went into the net.
He could hear the snickering behind as the boys waited for his second serve. Frank winced but there was nothing for it. So he had to play properly and run around the court trying not to think of the boys oogling his frilly knickers. When he finally got to walk off court his face must have been burning red as he walked past the sniggering boys.
Later in Spring Frank was coming home when a gang of girls passed behind him as he headed for his front door. They were giggling. Frank was almost used to this now. He knew he looked ridiculously big to be wearing the pink gingham junior school uniform with white tights and his pigtails tied up with ribbons.
“You know that Cindy could nearly be a boy!” one of the girls commented. The other girls giggled. Frank was distraught. It was his worst nightmare that someone would figure out that he was a boy. Everyone would remember his pink tutu and pink tights, his sausage curls tied up in bows, his pink party dress, going to church at Christmas in his sissy Christmas dress clutching a big doll. He felt sick.
He went in the door, closed it behind him and leaned back against the door in relief. Then he realised that he had also relieved himself. Pee soaked through his panties and tights. His aunt appeared and saw immediately.
He was quickly whisked off to the bathroom and his wet clothes were peeled off. His mother arrived home and pushed him into the shower. When he dried himself off his aunt had reappeared.
“My brother had a similar problem at that age so we have these”, she said flapping out a white cotton nappy. “No please!” Frank begged. But his aunt was having none of it. He’d peed all over her hall floor. Frank was pushed onto the bathroom floor towel and his aunt pinned him into the thick nappy. His mother flapped out the plastic pants and pulled them over his feet and up over his nappy.
Frank protested and went to pull the plastic pants down. His aunt slapped his hands away. “We had the same problem with my brother”, she said as she handed something to Frank’s mother. Both women pulled padded fingerless mittens over Frank’s hands and buckled them at the wrist. He pawed at the nappy but couldn’t do anything to shift it.
So Frank spent the rest of the day in the nappy. When he told them he needed to pee they took it off him and let him use the toilet. He had to wear the nappy overnight but his mother took it off him in the morning and let him do his usual morning bathroom routine.
Frank was dreading school in case that girl had found anyone to believe her theory that Cindy was actually a boy. When he emerged from the bathroom his mother went to put the nappy on him again. “No! I’ve got to go to school.” “Yes and it was those schoolgirls who caused you to wet yourself yesterday. Do you want to pee in your panties and tights in front of the whole school?”
Frank was speechless. Of course he didn’t. But he didn’t want to go to school in a nappy either. His mother and aunt took advantage of his indecision and pinned him into a nappy again. Then they pulled his plastic pants on. His mother held his pink gingham uniform and his aunt held up his white tights. “Please no!” he begged but he was soon dressed in his uniform and tights tugging his hem down as ever.
The dress only barely covered the bulge of his nappy. If he raised his arms even a tiny bit everyone would see that he was wearing a nappy. “I’m not going to school like this”, he insisted. A row ensued but there was no budging him.
“Right well the only children who don’t go to school are babies”, his aunt told him, strapping the mittens on his hands again. “You can stay at home but I’m getting the old play pen down and you can sit in it all day like a proper baby.” Frank was speechless again. He looked to his mother for help but she seemed to agree.
His aunt fetched the wooden playpen and set it up. She pushed Frank into it and closed the side bars. Just as he was thinking that he could easily get out of the pen, his mother tied a dressing gown belt around his ankle and to the side bars of the pen. “There, that will keep you in there!” With his hands in mittens Frank knew that he wouldn’t be able to untie it and he was confined to the pen.
Then his aunt pushed a soother into his mouth. He spat it out. It had a ribbon attached and she pinned it to his dress so it dangled embarrassingly in front. His mother placed rattles and play blocks in the pen. “I guess these are the only toys Baby can play with”, she observed looking at his mittens. His mother went off to work leaving Frank sulking in the play pen.
-
As the morning wore on Frank felt the need to pee. “Aunt Teresa! I need to pee!” She looked over from her sewing. “That’s fine, you have all you need.” Frank was shocked. “No seriously I need to pee!” “Seriously! You’ll do your toilet in your nappy as long as you refuse to go to school.”
Frank was shocked. But he knew by now that his aunt was not to be trifled with. He sat sniffling as the pressure from his bladder grew. “Please Aunt Teresa”, he begged in his most pleasant voice. But she ignored him.
Eventually he could hold out no more. Warm pee flooded around his nappy. He was sure that the plastic pants couldn’t hold it but they seemed to. He was terrified of moving in case the shift in pressure caused a leak. He started blubbering with this latest and greatest humiliation.
“I take it we have wet our nappy”, his aunt observed. Frank nodded his tear stained face. His aunt came over. He prepared himself to stand up and leave the play pen. But she took the dangling soother and pushed it into his mouth. “suc-k on that Baby and I’ll go and prepare a bottle for you. If you are very good and suc-k on your soother and drink your bottle, then I’ll consider changing your nappy.”
She went out to the kitchen leaving a startled Frank holding the soother in his mouth. Once again he knew his aunt couldn’t be defied. He was going to have to endure the soother and drink from a baby bottle in order to get his nappy changed. He blubbered away as he waited but refused to actually suc-k on the soother – just held it in his mouth.
Eventually his aunt returned with a baby bottle of milk. She pulled out his soother, let it dangle on its ribbon and pushed the teat of the bottle into Frank’s mouth. He knew his aunt meant business so he had no choice but to suc-k on the bottle. She had warmed the milk up as she would for a real baby. Frank winced but continued feeding.
It seemed to take ages to finish his bottle. The hole in the teat was tiny. His nappy was already going cold. He was relieved that he hadn’t resisted being given a baby bottle and would soon have his nappy changed.
When his aunt removed the teat from his mouth she immediately replaced it with his soother. She let him out of his play-pen and led him towards a towel spread on the floor. He lay back on the towel. “Sweetie, you’re not suc-king on your soother properly”, she scolded him. Frank glared at her but he was so close now to getting his nappy changed he had to comply. He started nursing the soother.
His aunt pulled his tights down and then peeled the wet plastic pants off him. Then she unpinned the soaked nappy and put it in a bucket. She hummed happily as she wiped him all around the groin. Frank was mortified. “Over!” Frank turned over and she wiped all around his bottom. Then she powdered him liberally. “Over again!” She sprinkled powder all over his groin and rubbed it in vigorously. Frank wanted to die.
Soon he was pinned into a clean nappy, she pulled dry plastic pants up over his nappy and put him back in his white tights. She led him back to the play pen and he sat down on his thick but dry nappy. “Do I have to tie your ankle?” she asked him. Frank shook his head. He would be good and stay in his pen. “Soother!” his aunt scolded. He resumed suc-king on his soother. She sat down to her knitting again so he had to play with rattles and suc-k away on his soother for the rest of the afternoon.
When his mother arrived home she got a full report on his nappy change. She brought Frank to the kitchen table and fed him a pureed version of their dinner from a bowl with a spoon. Then she announced it was Baby’s time for bed. Frank winced. It only 7.30pm. His mother put him in a pink nightie and it was clear he was staying in his nappy and mittens for the night.
She brought him a baby bottle of milk. Frank frowned and whimpered through his soother because he knew this would make him wet his nappy again during the night. But his mother was insistent and soon he was suc-king his way through his bottle.
When his mother tucked him in she said “see you in the morning” so he presumed that that meant that if he wet his nappy during the night, which was inevitable, he was going to be in it until the morning.
Frank couldn’t sleep what with the discomfort of the thick nappy and the worry over his new predicament. He did drift off eventually but woke bursting to go to the toilet. Soon he filled his nappy with warm pee again. He could hear that the TV was on but reckoned that he was not supposed to disturb them to get his nappy changed. He cringed with the thought of spending the rest of the night in a wet nappy. Eventually he drifted off again.
-
He woke early. There was no sound elsewhere in the house. His nappy was cold and clammy but he couldn’t wake anyone now having endured it all night. Eventually he heard movement. But his mother passed his door several times. He wasn’t sure if it was ok to call her. His aunt had not allowed him speak all day but insisted that he suc-k on his soother.
Where was the soother? He found it among the bedclothes. He put it in his mouth. The next time his mother passed the door he whimpered through his soother. She opened the door. “Oh is Baby awake?” Frank nodded and suc-ked on his soother. “Has baby a wet nappy?” Again Frank nodded. At last!
“Does Baby want to do poo-poo?” Frank sighed. He usually had an early morning poo and there was one building up. The pause in his reaction was enough to confirm for her. “Let’s wait until Baby’s done poo-poo and then we’ll change you”, she said leaving the room.
Frank flopped back on the pillows. This was getting worse and worse. He found himself suc-king on his soother for comfort. That brought tears to his eyes. He tried to pull himself together and work on this poo. It was the only way he was getting his cold wet nappy changed.
In the end he had to get up on his hands and knees and push and eventually a large stool slid into his nappy. He wanted to cry but there was more to come. Several times he pushed and more poo filled his nappy.
When he was finished he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to lie down again as that would squash the poo all over his bottom. But with no sign of his mother he had little choice in the end. He lowered his bottom oh so carefully and cringed as he felt the poo ooze under his weight.
Eventually his mother returned and knew immediately from the smell. “Good Baby” she praised him and smiled wistfully as she noticed he was a little tearful and suc-king on his soother.
He preferred to look up and tried not to think of the mess that was there as she cleaned him up. She seemed actually quite pleased to have a baby to look after again. He was soon powdered and pinned into a clean nappy. He winced at the sight of another nappy but never really thought that this would be an end to it.
She dressed him in his pink gingham school dress again and pulled his white tights over his nappy. “So are we going to school today?” she asked him. Frank winced. He really didn’t want to be kept at home in a play-pen, being bottle fed and using his nappies but there was no way he was going to appear at school in a nappy. At least he got some privacy at home. He shook his head.
“Right, into your play-pen so”, she commanded. He put his head down and trudged into the pen and his aunt soon appeared with his bottle. “I think this school uniform is inappropriate for Baby”, his mother commented. “You’re right”, his aunt agreed. “I’m sure I can whip up something more appropriate.”
So as Frank sat in his play-pen all day he watched as his aunt took the yellow play dress and altered it appropriately. She sewed layers of petticoats under the dress and added several little bows to the lace already decorating the hems and sleeves.
Frank wondered what she was doing next as she worked on making something in a matching material. It appeared to have a crescent shape and eventually when she held it up it was clear to him that she was making a matching bonnet!
When his mother came home she was delighted with his aunt’s handiwork. Frank watched as he was spoon-fed his dinner as the dress acquired more layers of lace and further lace was added around the wide brim of his bonnet.
His mother sat him on his bed as she administered his final bottle of the day. He wanted to resist it as it guaranteed a wet nappy for the night but he knew he couldn’t.
His aunt came in with the baby dress and hung it on the back of his door. She ran her fingers through the layers of petticoats and smiled. She tied the matching bonnet to the hook on the back of the door so they could get an idea how the whole ensemble looked.
“So you’ll be wearing that tomorrow and every day if you don’t go to school”, his mother warned him. Frank felt sick and felt a poo coming on. He squirmed uncomfortably as he couldn’t take his eyes of the sissiest dress he had ever seen and its matching bonnet that was about to become his daily apparel if he didn’t agree to go to school in a nappy.
His aunt went to the drawers and took out a pair of his lacey white tights and draped them over the back of a chair in readiness and then she placed his frilly tennis knickers there too so it became clear what his whole ensemble would look like.
It wasn’t yet dark when they left him in bed and he couldn’t take his eyes off his humiliating baby clothes. He seriously thought about going to school in a nappy but there was no doubt in his mind that the girls would quickly spot his predicament and he would have to sit there every day with everyone knowing that he was wearing a nappy.
He couldn’t sleep and soon wet himself and was desperately trying to hold off his poo until morning. What to do!
-
Frank woke early the next morning and had a long time lying there contemplating the baby dress hanging on the back of the door. The frilly panties, lacy tights and matching bonnet were right there for him to see too. He couldn’t hold his poo any longer and soon filled his nappy.
Eventually his aunt came into the room and immediately set about changing his soiled nappy. There was no mention of his baby dress but she made sure he was facing it as she wiped and powdered his bottom. He realised that he was quickly approaching decision time. Once he was pinned into a clean nappy and had his plastic pants pulled up over them his aunt held up his pink junior school uniform right beside his baby dress. “So what is it to be?” Frank sighed heavily and suc-ked on his soother. It wasn’ t fair!
She came towards him with the school uniform. Frank shook his head. He just couldn’t face going to school in a nappy. At least here he had privacy.
“Very well”, his aunt took the baby dress from the hanger and Frank felt sick as she ran her fingers through the layers of petticoats. “Arms up!” she ordered. Frank wasn’t going to cooperate in this. He stood with his arms down by his side.
“If you don’t want to be left in a wet and soiled nappy for hours later today, you will do as I say”, she told him firmly. Frank sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t beat her.
He held his arms up. His aunt smiled and raised his new baby dress. He had no choice but to stand there meekly as she pulled the humiliating baby dress down over him and zipped it up at the back. She told him to sit on the side of the bed while she fetched his lacy tights. Frank sat down and his petticoats ballooned around him. His aunt pulled the tights over his feet and up under his baby dress and stretched them over his thick nappy. Then she took the frilly tennis knickers and pulled them up over his tights. He couldn’t actually see his tights or knickers below all his petticoats.
Frank watched glumly as she came towards him with the pièce de résistance – his newly made bonnet. She placed it carefully on his head and adjusted it so it was perfectly centred before tying the long ribbons tightly under his chin in a big bow. It also had the effect of holding his soother more tightly in his mouth.
She pulled him off the bed and over in front of the mirror. Frank wet himself a little when he saw his reflection. His distraught face peeped out over his soother and above the big bow and was framed prettily in the wide lace of his bonnet. The lower half of his frilly knickers were clearly visible below his petticoats and bulged over his thick nappy. His long legs were encased in the flowery patterns of his white lacey tights. He tried to push his petticoats down to conceal the obvious bulge of his nappy but it was pointless.
His mother walked into the room. “Oh how adorable!” She walked over to him admiring him from head to toe. She ran her fingers through his petticoats and plucked at the frills on his knickers. She tugged at the lace trim of his bonnet and flicked his nose playfully. “Just perfect!”
The two women stood back and admired the boy squirming in his baby dress, matching bonnet, frilly knickers and lacey tights and were clearly very very pleased. “I’ll start knitting booties today”, his aunt decided. “That would be lovely”, his mother agreed.
Frank was led to his play pen and given his morning bottle. His mother smiled down on him as she was about to go. He looked up through the ring of lace that now framed his view of the world and continued suc-king on his bottle. “Bye bye Baby” his mother waved cheerfully and left for work.
Frank sat in his pen looking down at his baby dress, arms resting on his mountain of petticoats and wondered how on earth he was going to get out of this predicament. Meanwhile his aunt settled down with her knitting needles and matching yellow wool.
-
Sitting in his play pen in his baby dress and bonnet, trying to get some amusement from the rattles and letter blocks left Frank with far too much time to think. His aunt knitted his booties at a furious pace watching over him and making sure that he played with his baby toys and suc-ked on his soother. On the rare occasions when she wasn’t looking he tugged desperately at the padded mittens that made him so completely helpless.
Other than that he could only worry about when he would wet or soil his nappy again and be careful to be a good baby so that his aunt would change him promptly.
He actually thought fondly now of the days he spent playing dolls with Chris in his play-dress that actually covered his frilly panties (most of the time). He recalled being able to dance even if he had to wear a pink tutu and tights and flash his frills in front of the boy’s rugby team. At least he had been able to walk about … and use the bathroom. Now he was confined to this pen and had to use a nappy for all his toilet.
He wondered if he could bargain with his mother and aunt. If they would just let him out of his nappies and play-pen he would let them dress him in his pink party dress and pettipants and put his hair in ringlets. Anything but this! But that would require being able to speak to them and he wasn’t allowed speak but had to suc-k on his soother all the time.
When his mother came home Frank was wearing his new knitted booties, tied on his feet with white ribbons. “Delightful!” His aunt was already considering her next project. “He’ll need more than one baby dress. I’ll make the next one from scratch.” Frank whimpered in his pen. It sounded like they were preparing for him being a long time in nappies!
“I found this lovely pattern in a magazine”, his aunt showed them. It was a pink dress with puffed-sleeves, a wide lace collar and a scalloped hem showing off layers of petticoats beneath. “Gorgeous!” his mother smiled. Frank cringed at the sight of it. “Will you make the matching bonnet and bloomers too?” “Of course, I might even sew a pretty heart on the bottom of his bloomers.” “That would be lovely!” And so his aunt started on his next baby outfit while his mother spoon-fed him his pureed dinner.
At bed-time his mother was feeding Frank his bottle when she had a thought. “You know they have these lovely pink onesies in large sizes these days that some girls like to wear. I must buy one for Frank. It’ll be adorable.” So Frank tossed and turned all night dreading being put in a pink onesie every night.
The next day he watched disconsolately as his aunt worked on the puffed sleeves of his dress, the wide brim of his bonnet and the lace heart on the seat of his bloomers. That evening his mother returned with his new pink onesie.
She made him step into it and he discovered that it was footed. She pushed his arms into the sleeves and then buttoned it up the back while he looked in the mirror at how his nappy bulged beneath the pink fleece material.
It was another sleepless night as he became accustomed to his new night attire. If he even wiggled his toes he could feel the tug of his onesie right up to his neck. He hated the complete enveloping embrace of his onesie but there was nothing he could do to remove it – even if the buttons had been up the front. He was stuck in it until somebody allowed him out of it.
On Saturday his aunt completed his new dress and was just adding more little bows to the brim of his bonnet. In the afternoon there was a delivery which they appeared to bring into his bedroom. He could hear furniture being moved about but as ever was not permitted to speak and ask what was going on.
At bed time his mother buttoned him into his pink onesie as he suc-ked on his bottle. Then she led him by the hand into his room. He froze at the door. His bed was gone and had been replaced by a large wooden cot! “Nnnnnggggghhhhh!”
He resisted being brought towards the cot but his fleecy feet just slid on the polished floor. His aunt lowered the side bars on his cot and his mother pushed him in. Despite his resistance his aunt swung his feet up onto the cot and she raised the bars and they locked with a click. There was a latch but his aunt turned it so it inserted into a slot and could only be opened by somebody who could use their fingers. In other words, it was baby proof.
Frank clung to the bars of his new cot and climbed to his feet. The side bars came up to his shoulders. He tried to climb over the side but his fleecy feet just slid down the wooden bars and his mother and aunt just watched his futile attempts with amusement.
He pawed at the catch on the side bars refusing to accept that his mittens clearly prevented him from turning it. Eventually he had to accept that there was no escape from his cot. He slumped down on his thick nappy and sniffled and suc-ked on his soother. “Excellent! So baby is nice and safe in his new cot!” his mother observed while they exited the room. “See you in the morning!”
Frank blubbered for a few minutes as his situation sank in. Then he got a new resolve to get out of his cot. He climbed to his feet again and shook and rattled the bars at every angle. He studied every corner for a weakness. He made several more futile attempts at climbing over the bars before finally sliding down onto his nappied bottom and bursting into tears. It had all just served to reinforce the point that he was confined to his cot until somebody chose to let him out.
He suc-ked hard on his soother and eventually settled down. He kicked out frustratedly in his onesie. When he settled down he noticed his new pink baby dress hanging on the back of the door with the matching bonnet draped over it and his bloomers folded over the back of a chair – the pretty heart sewn on the bottom showing up nicely. Clearly he was to make his debut in it tomorrow.
-
The following morning he obediently raised his arms so his mother could put him in his new pink baby dress. She did up the many little buttons at the back. He couldn’t lower his arms properly as they rested on his enormous layers of petticoats.
His aunt pulled pink tights up over his nappy, followed by his lace-trimmed bloomers. The women tittered at the pretty heart on his bottom which he couldn’t see. Then his aunt tied pink booties on his feet. When had she had the time to make those, he wondered.
Finally his mother placed the bonnet on his head and tied the ribbon. As she pulled the ends of the ribbon the brim of his bonnet gradually drew in around his face leaving only a small circle of vision. And now his vision was framed with pretty floral patterns on his brim and the thick lace trim.
He was put into his play pen and sat obediently shaking his rattle and occasionally rearranging his blocks. He could only just reach the blocks over the mountains of his petticoats. His mother and aunt sat on either aside clearly pleased with their work. They addressed him alternately and he had to turn his head sideways to be able to see each of them through the funnel of his new bonnet. It became obvious that they were doing this deliberately entirely for their amusement, forcing him to look one way and then the other.
He was almost relieved to get out of the dress and restrictive bonnet and into his pink onesie that night. His mother put him into his cot and pottered around the room. As he watched her through the bars, he reached a decision.
He spat out his soother. “Mum. I’ll go to school .” He couldn’t take any more of this. “What?” she asked, surprised. “I’ll go to school – even if I have to wear a nappy.” She just smiled. “Oh sweetie it’s too late for that.” He frowned. What did she mean? She came over to the cot. “We told the school you were being home schooled from now on. You’re not going back.” She popped the soother back in his mouth. “Nnnnnggggghhhhh!” He tried to spit it out again but she just put her finger against his soother and kept it in position.
She took his pink baby dress and opened the wardrobe door. Frank saw that the wardrobe had been emptied of all clothes other than his yellow baby dress which was now joined by his pink one. He climbed to his feet. They were planning to keep him as a sissy baby! “Nnnngggghhhhh!” He shook the bars of his cot. His mother just smiled as she left the room. “It’s all done Baby. Nothing you can do about it!” She shut the door.
Frank tugged ever more desperately at his mittens. He pulled at his onesie and squirmed pointlessly within it. He rattled the bars of his cot as hard as he could but absolutely nothing budged. He collapsed on his nappied bottom and blubbered away into his soother. He didn’t want to be kept like this. How long would they keep him in nappies and baby dresses!?
“Mrs Smiley was asking after ‘Cindy’ yesterday”, his mother mentioned the next day. “We’ll have to invite them over and show them Cindy’s new status now that we’ve decided to keep him this way”. Frank whimpered through his soother in feeble protest from his play-pen. They just ignored that.
“Let’s have them over for dinner tomorrow and we can show off his beautiful new pink outfit”, his aunt suggested. Frank cringed at the idea of others seeing that he was now being kept in nappies and sissy baby dresses but he supposed that they couldn’t keep it a secret for long.
His aunt picked up the phone and spoke to Mrs Smiley. When Frank heard that she had accepted the invitation he knew that he was facing humiliation in front of their neighbour and her little girl Chris. He realised that he was peeing in his nappy.
He started crying and suc-king hard on his soother. “What’s up sweetie”, his mother asked. He pointed a mitten at his nappy area. “Oh have we wet ourselves again?” she asked brightly. Frank nodded as he blubbered. His mother came over. “Don’t worry sweetie.” Frank looked up and momentarily stopped crying hoping for a little reprieve. “You’ll soon get used to it”, she smiled.
Frank cried even harder at that as she led him off to have his nappy changed. He didn’t want to get used to it!
-
That night when they were putting Frank into his cot his aunt produced her latest creation. She’d made a light bonnet for him to wear at night. It was pink satin with a thin trimming of lace. She placed it on his head and tied the ribbons tightly under his chin.
Frank lay down and realised that the tightly knotted ribbon made it difficult to get the soother out of his mouth. Usually once he fell asleep the soother would slip out of his mouth and his mother would replace it in the morning when she came in.
After tossing and turning in his pink footed sleeper for a while Frank eventually nodded off to sleep. His aunt and mother peeped in later when they heard the steady breathing. They smiled as they saw the soother was still in his mouth. Frank stirred in his cot. They saw him wiggle his fingers within his mittens and reach out and touch the side bars of his cot and then he kicked his feet in his footed sleeper. A frown crossed his face which was now prettily framed with the lace of his night bonnet. They presumed that in his semi-waking state he realised he was still confined to his baby clothes and cot. It wasn’t just a nightmare. He suc-ked hard a few times on his soother and then settled down and soon they heard his steady breathing again.
Frank woke early. He didn’t think too much about the soother having been in his mouth all night. He was becoming accustomed to its permanent presence. What preoccupied his thoughts was the visit of Mrs Smiley and Chris.
Once they saw that he was being kept in baby dresses and nappies they would surely tell everyone they met. Everyone would soon know. His classmates at school would hear, no doubt. He would never be able to show his face in school again. Never be able to appear in public again without knowing that everyone knew he’d been kept as a sissy baby at the age of fourteen!
He suc-ked hard on his soother. There was nothing he could do about it. His mother and aunt had decided and he was about to be exposed in public. The only small consolation was that nobody seemed to realise that he was actually a boy.
After his morning change, bottle and feed his mother excitedly dressed him in his pink baby dress. His aunt pulled his pink tights up over his nappy and then his lacey bloomers, tugging at the heart pattern to get it sitting just right. His mother tied his bonnet under his chin while his aunt pulled his pink booties on and secured them with the ribbons.
Then they led him to his play-pen and put him in. Frank plonked down on his bottom and looked up. They smiled as they looked down on him in his pretty pink baby dress and he looked up nervously through the lace-trimmed funnel of his bonnet and suc-ked on his soother.
When the doorbell rang he shuddered. This was it. There was no going back. The public were about to find out about his new status. He realised that he was wetting his nappy again. He cringed. Was he going to have his nappy changed in front of the neighbours? He hoped that they wouldn’t notice.
He could hear his mother prepare the visitors before she showed them in. She told them about Cindy’s toilet problem and how she refused to go to school in a nappy and how they tried to get her to go by saying they would have to treat her as a baby if she wanted to stay at home. Well it turned out she preferred being kept as a baby at home than go to school in a nappy. “She’s in here.” Frank peed again as the door opened.
Mrs Smiley and Chris walked in. Their jaws dropped in unison when they saw Frank in his baby dress looking up from his pen, dutifully shaking a rattle. “Oh my goodness!” Chris looked up at her mother in shock. Frank wondered would they be outraged and report his mother to the authorities over what was happening.
“Oh how adorable! What a pretty dress!” Frank sighed heavily. Chris stood in her t-shirt and jeans and looked disbelievingly at this older girl in the frilly pink baby dress. “Stand up so they can see your full outfit properly”, his mother instructed. Frank climbed to his feet and tried fruitlessly to keep his layers of petticoats down. “Oh those frilly bloomers!”
“Turn around”, his aunt told him. “Gosh, that must be quite a thick nappy!” “It’s a nice old fashioned cotton nappy with plastic pants”, his mother informed her. “Oh that pretty heart on her toosh!” Frank suc-ked hard on his soother a few times which he hoped was hidden by the deep brim of his bonnet. He was sure that his soaked nappy must be sagging noticeably. He didn’t want to have his nappy changed in front of the visitors.
-
Mrs Smiley sat with her cup of tea admiring Frank/Cindy in his prettiest pink baby dress. He looked out through the lace of his bonnet, suc-ked on his soother and dutifully shook his rattles and played with his blocks.
“If you ever want to take a day off we’d be happy to look after Cindy for you”, Mrs Smiley offered. Frank cringed. He had been worried about having his nappy changed in front of them but now the prospect of having them changing his nappy was becoming real. It was only then that the obvious thought occurred to him. He looked up at his mother.
She was looking at his aunt and they exchanged a knowing look. “That’s very kind of you to offer”, his mother replied eventually. Frank relaxed a little as she appeared to be about to reject the offer. “Can we take you up on that tomorrow?” Frank peed a little more into his nappy. That was happening more and more regularly.
But if he was left in the care of Mrs Smiley and Chris and they had to change his nappy they would find out that he was a boy! “We’d be delighted!” Mrs Smiley agreed. “Come over about 9 tomorrow?” his mother suggested and it was all set up.
Frank tossed and turned in his cot all night. It had only just been exposed to neighbours that he was being kept in nappies and baby dresses. He was sure that Chris must be running around out there telling everyone. And now they were about to find out that he was a boy! Every time he thought about it he peed a little more into his nappy.
The following morning his mother came in to find him in a soggy and soiled nappy as usual. “We’re not going to change your nappy until just before Mrs Smiley comes in”, his mother informed him. Frank whimpered through his soother. He had no idea what time it was – there was no clock in his room which was a constant irritation for him given the long hours he spent in his cot. But he was fairly sure it meant sitting in his soiled nappy for a long time.
His mother kept him in his cot and gave him his morning bottle. Eventually she came in with his aunt ready to change him. They removed his soiled nappy and cleaned him up. Frank lay back studying the ceiling, suc-king on his soother as usual, trying not to think too much about the business of cleaning and powdering his nether regions.
When that was done he felt something enclose around behind his testicles. “Nnngggghhh?” Then his mother quickly pulled a hard plastic tube over his pen-is and attached it to the ring. He heard the click of a little lock and his mother held up a little key. He looked down to see that they had locked this plastic tube over his pen-is. What on earth was that for? Before he got much more than another whimper out, his mother was pinning his nappy on.
Just then the doorbell rang. Frank looked towards the door in panic. It must be Mrs Smiley and Chris. His aunt when to meet them at the door. He heard her say “Chris, would you go and play in the garden for a few minutes please?” He heard Chris skip towards the back of the house.
“There’s something we need to show you”, his aunt told Mrs Smiley as they entered the room. She saw Frank lying back with just the cotton nappy pinned in place. Mrs Smiley came over. “Good morning Cindy! Aren’t we going to have fun today?”
His aunt nodded towards his mother and she unpinned his nappy. Frank cringed as she pulled back the folds. Mrs Smiley’s jaw dropped. “But …” She put her hand to her face. “Oh my goodness!” Then she giggled a little.
“Do you still want to babysit for us today?” his mother asked. “Oh yes of course!” Mrs Smiley responded. “Well I never!” “And what about Chris?” his aunt asked. “Oh she knows all about the male anatomy, don’t worry.” She went to the door and called out “Chris, come in dear we’ve a surprise for you.”
Chris skipped into the room and smiled as she saw Frank in his nappy. Her mother drew her nearer. “You won’t believe this but Cindy is actually a boy!” Chris’s eyes popped as she saw Frank’s extra equipment, locked away as it was.
“Frank is his real name. As you can see, there is nothing to worry about, he’s safely neutralised”, his aunt sniggered as she proceeded to pin his nappy up again.
Again, Mrs Smiley put her hand to her face. “Oh my goodness!” She looked at Chris. “Remember he spent a whole day playing with dolls in his pretty little play dress and matching frilly panties! He must have been mortified.” Frank suc-ked hard on his soother.
“And you had his hair in ringlets at times! Remember that pretty pink party dress he wore to your birthday party!” Cindy laughed remembering that he looked more sissy than any real girl at the party. “Oh, and he danced ballet in front of the whole town in his pink tutu and pink tights! I remember you made him sew frilly lace on his tutu! Oh he must have died having to do that!”
Frank was almost in tears as she recounted his horrific year. “Would you like to choose his dress for the day?” his mother asked opening the wardrobe and revealing his pink and yellow baby dresses.” “Oh let’s have his yellow dress today!” Mrs Smiley replied enthusiastically. “Chris would you like to choose Baby Francie’s tights?” she asked. They all smiled at Frank’s new appropriate name: Baby Francie! Perfect!
-
Frank had to suffer the indignity of being fed his bottle by Chris, the little girl from next door. She then made him play with his rattles and blocks for hours while her mother knitted him a new pair of booties.
“We must tell Annabelle about this”, Mrs Smiley said. Frank looked up at the mention of one of the girls from his school. Annabelle was the most gorgeous girl he had seen in the senior school. Naturally he’d had no opportunity to do anything about, dressed as he had been in his pink junior girl’s uniform. Something stirred in his nappy at the mention of her name. Then it came up against the tight barrier of the plastic tube locked over his pen-is and he realised that the device prevented him from getting aroused. “She’ll never believe that Cindy was a boy all along!” Chris jumped up. “I’ll go and get her!”
Frank was distraught. He didn’t want Annabelle to see that he was a boy being kept in nappies and baby dresses. Despite his horror, something about it made his little member stir again and press further against its restraint. Chris was already gone and Frank knew there was no avoiding it now. Annabelle was going to see him. It wasn’t long before he heard her voice approaching. “What are you dragging me in here for?”
She walked into the room and saw Frank/Cindy sitting in the play pen in his yellow baby dress. “What on earth?” Mrs Smiley told her about Cindy’s wetting problem and refusal to go to school. “But wait until you see what’s in the nappy!” Chris giggled. Annabelle looked puzzled.
“Does Baby Francie need changing?” Mrs Smiley asked. “Francie?” Annabelle was further puzzled. Frank was relieved that he didn’t need changing. But then he froze. His nappy WAS wet. When did that happen? He must have wet himself at the anticipation of Annabelle seeing him. And he didn’t even notice that he was wetting himself. He suc-ked hard on his soother.
Mrs Smiley reached under his petticoats and slipped a finger into the waistband of his nappy cover. “Yes! Baby Francie needs changing.” Annabelle looked on as Frank’s nappy cover was pulled down and then his tights. She winced as the soaked plastic pants were peeled off. When the nappy was unpinned and folded back she put her hand to her mouth. “It’s …. It’s a boy!”
Frank could feel his pen-is pressing desperately against the chastity device as he lay back mortified. Mrs Smiley wiped him down with baby wipes as Annabelle moved in for a closer look. She took the plastic tube in her hand and wiggled it to confirm that it was locked on. Frank writhed at the discomfort of his frustrated member. “Oh look!” Annabelle remarked. “His poor little diddy can’t grow!” she giggled.
“He was so cute in his pink uniform”, Annabelle remembered. “And his ballet tutu!” she snorted. Frank winced. How many times was he going to have to endure this now that the secret was out?
Annabelle insisted on powdering him and pinning his clean nappy on. She stroked the bulge at the front teasingly before pulling his tights over his nappy and Frank twisted in agony.
On hearing that more neighbours knew the truth of Baby Francie, his mother decided that it was time to bring him out and about. “Let’s go to the Mall tomorrow”, she suggested. “That’s a great idea”, his aunt concurred. “Gosh, what’s that smell? Oh Baby Francie has a present for us, has he?”
Frank fought back the tears and suc-ked deeply on his soother as he realised that the prospect of going out in public in his nappy and baby dress had led to him soiling himself. Not that it deterred the ladies from the idea in the least.
The next morning Frank was dressed in his pink baby dress and matching bonnet and tights ready for his public exposition. His mother produced a white leather harness and pulled it over his arms and buckled it at the back. She tugged on the attached reins to make sure that it gave her the desired level of control.
His aunt threw a changing bag over her shoulder. There was a baby bottle with milk in the outside pocket. Frank sighed heavily as he looked in the mirror. People would see his thick nappy clearly below his short dress and petticoats. When they saw the changing bag, they would know that he was actually using his nappy. They would also see that he was being bottle-fed.
He was pushed out the door and waddled down the driveway towards the public road. His mother kept his reins nice and taught. He tried to look up and down the road to see if anyone was about but his bonnet greatly restricted his view. He stomach rumbled. He clenched his buttocks. It was bad enough having to walk around in a clean nappy in public – he really didn’t want to be walking around in a soiled nappy.
-
Frank’s mother pushed him towards the main road which was busy with cars and pedestrians. A neighbour intercepted them by trotting quickly down her driveway. “Oh is this Baby Francie that I’ve heard about?!” His mother tugged him to a halt with his harness so that the neighbour could properly admire him.
Frank stood mortified on the footpath as the neighbour complimented his baby dress and matching nappy cover. “What a sweet bonnet!” Frank suc-ked on his soother and she laughed. “Oh Baby Francie loves his doh-doh!” Frank was momentarily relieved when his mother finally let him walk on but then he saw the busy main road again.
It must have taken a full hour to get to the Mall. Everyone seemed to be out on the main street. His mother stopped and chatted to everyone who wanted to hear more about Baby Francie, the teenage boy in a thick nappy and baby dress – and that was everyone. Frank could only stand and endure the comments about his pink tights, very thick nappy and changing bag.
The Mall provided no relief. It simply meant that he had reached another stage in his public humiliation. He waddled down the first row of shops to the central atrium trying to ignore all the astonished looks. Then he realised that his mother was leading him to the child-minders right in the centre of the Mall.
“Can we leave Baby Francie with you while we shop?” his mother asked. When the lady in charge finished laughing she said they would be only too delighted to have him. She took Frank’s harness and led him over to the babies and toddlers on the large play mat. At first they looked up agape at the teenage baby. Even they burst out laughing and pointed most indiscretely at his bulging nappy and soother.
Frank had no choice but to flop down on his nappied bottom on the play mat. His mother and aunt had gone and left him in this place. He looked around, which again required maximum turning of his head due to his restrictive bonnet.
In this new age of transparency the baby minding room in the centre of the mall’s main atrium had glass walls, presumably so that concerned mummies could be sure that their little ones were being well treated. In Frank’s case though, it ensured that the maximum possible number of people could stop, look and laugh at him in his pink baby dress and frilly nappy cover.
The restrictive bonnet had one advantage. Frank looked down at the baby toys and started playing with them closing out the view of the laughing multitudes. Within a few minutes the lady in charge was not having this and insisted on feeding him the bottle from his changing bag so he had to look up and suc-k on it. He could see people were highly amused by his bottle feeding and were nudging each other and pointing to his changing bag. He didn’t need to be able to lip-read to tell that they were telling each other that he must be actually using his nappies.
Looking beyond the circle of grinning people he could see that the atrium was the location for several coffee shops and eateries and most people sitting at the tables were similarly enjoying the floor show.
After what seemed like a couple of hours he finally saw his mother and aunt approach the atrium. Before they got to the child-minding area, his mother nudged his aunt and pointed to one of the coffee shops and they both went to relax over a beverage. Frank sighed.
His stomach rumbled again and this time Frank realised that there was no putting it off. Now he just wanted to die. He was about to soil his nappy in the baby-minding area of the local mall in front of an audience of several hundred.
The toddlers nearest heard the flatulence that accompanied Frank’s poo. They first looked at him and then up at the child-minding ladies. “The big baby has done doo-doos!” One of the ladies came towards him immediately but recoiled when she got within smelling distance. People outside the glass walls were getting the idea. Some people were doubled over laughing.
His mother and aunt noticed the commotion and trotted over to the child-minders. His aunt threw the changing bag over her shoulder while his mother reattached the reins to his harness. A path opened in the crowd as he was led out. He looked up and saw the sign for the Gents, Ladies and Changing Room. As they passed through the crowd the people closest cringed when they got the smell.
Frank was now desperate to get through the door to the changing room. His aunt pushed the door back to reveal a queue of ladies with their little charges. They all turned to look at Baby Francie. There was no room inside the door. His mother held his harness tightly as they had to wait outside the changing room for the queue to move on.
-
Frank could only suc-k desperately on his soother as he stood in his soiled nappy outside the changing room at the Mall trying to ignore all the sniggering passers-by who wrinkled their noses and went ‘Ew!’ if they got too close.
Eventually a mother and baby left and they were able to get inside the door at last. He was now faced with a line of smiling mothers and puzzled babies. It was clear that he was creating the largest stink of them all.
When the next lady was finished one of the others said “I think the big baby should go next. It seems like your need is much greater.” All the others nodded in agreement and Frank’s mother led him to the front thanking them.
As Frank climbed up on the changing table the mothers gathered around and it seemed obvious to him that their main motivation for letting him go first was to watch him having his nappy changed. But he was desperate to get his dirty nappy off so he had no choice but to go along and obediently raise and lower his bottom in the now familiar changing routine. It was also obvious to the mothers watching that this was a regular routine and that the child must have been kept in nappies for some time.
His mother removed his frilly nappy cover with much tittering from the mothers. One of them held it up and the others ran their fingers through Frank frills and giggled. Then his mother peeled off his pink tights. “Gosh, you’re using old fashioned cotton nappies and plastic pants!” one mother observed. “I was thinking that the nappy seemed very thick.” “And it keeps everything in ok?” another asked. His mother pushed Frank’s legs up in the air so she could show all the mothers how his elasticated plastic pants kept everything in. They all leaned in for a really good look and were suitably impressed. Frank looked up at the ceiling through his bonnet and just kept suc-king on his soother.
His mother then removed his plastic pants and the real force of the smell hit them. They all stood back. As his mother unpinned his nappy, Frank wondered if the mothers knew that he was actually a boy. Well, they were about to find out.
“Oh my goodness!” “It’s a boy!” The mothers all looked at his pink frilly dress, his matching nappy cover and tights again in a new light. “What is that?” a mother asked pointing at the chastity device. His mother twiddled with the little padlock. “Well lots of the girls in the neighbourhood love babysitting for Baby Francie and love changing his nappy. Unfortunately, his little thing seems to enjoy it too so this keeps it out of mischief.” The ladies all giggled. “Where do you get them? I have a teenage son who could do with one of those!” A number of the other mothers sniggered agreement.
So Frank had to turn over and be wiped and powdered and have his new nappy and plastic pants replaced in front of the audience of mothers. Then his mother pulled his tights and frilly nappy cover on and helped him down off the changing table. He stood in front of the ladies as his mother repacked his changing bag. Finally she straightened his bonnet.
“Isn’t he adorable!” “Where did you get such a pretty baby dress in his size – with the matching nappy cover and bonnet and everything?!” His aunt lapped up the praise for her dressmaking skills and needlework. She gave out her number to some of the ladies and Frank wondered if some other poor boy was about to end up like him.
Finally they were done and Frank could waddle out of the changing room in a nice clean nappy. If he felt any relief it was short lived as his mother opened the door revealing the crowded mall. He took a deep breath.
-
While Frank desperately wanted to be out of nappies and baby dresses, he wasn’t sure that, following his public humiliation at the Mall, he could ever show his face outside the door again.
His mother and aunt weren’t so inhibited. They managed to purchase a large stroller that they could strap him into to bring him down to the shops or out to the park. His initial attempts to foil this by dragging his feet on the ground were easily thwarted by means of Velcro straps that secured his ankles to the sides of his stroller. Thus he was firmly held in his stroller to be propelled wherever his mother, aunt or any of the local girls who regularly asked to take him out wanted to bring him. The girls would usually bring him down to the park to show him off to their friends.
The local babysitters club generously offered to look after Frank for free whenever his mother and aunt wanted a night out. When this happened he usually found that about half a dozen girls were eager to share the duties. He might have his soggy nappy removed by one girl, have another clean him with baby wipes , another powder his bottom, leaving others the tasks of pinning his clean nappy on and restoring his tights and nappy cover. All the time his poor little member pressed against its restraint so he couldn’t feel any arousal, much to the amusement of the girls.
One day his aunt was rummaging in the attic when she found some old boy’s clothes. Frank looked at them glumly. Trousers were a dim memory at this stage. But he was astonished when his mother suggested letting him put the clothes on.
He wondered was he dreaming as his mother removed his mittens and bonnet, pulled the dress off him, then his nappy cover, the tights and finally unpinned his nappy. He couldn’t believe the feeling of underpants on him! Then a shirt and trousers. His mother looked at him and smiled. She reached forward and pulled his soother out with a pop! He’d forgotten about that.
He was free to go out the door. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to face the public. “You don’t want to go back into your play-pen do you?” his mother asked rhetorically. Of course he didn’t but … Anyway he decided that he had to take the opportunity and go outside. His mother closed the door behind him.
It wasn’t long before she heard girls laughing outside. Soon after there was an urgent banging on the door. When she opened it, Frank was clutching Annabelle’s hand. “He’s wet his pants in front of all the girls”, she announced. She brought the blubbering boy in.
“Oh sweetie, come over to the changing table.” Frank lay back as his mother removed his sodden pants. She noticed him looking at something. She followed his eye line and realised he was looking at his soother. “Do you want your doh-doh?” she asked. Frank cringed and didn’t want to admit that he needed it but eventually he nodded. She pushed the soother into his mouth and he immediately nursed it eagerly.
When she had cleaned him up Annabelle reached for a nappy. “Nnnnggghhh!” he protested. He’d only been out of nappies for a few minutes. He desperately didn’t want to be put in them again. But she ignored him and he had to accept that he needed a nappy now. As usual his member tried to enlarge as Annabelle pinned his nappy on. She giggled “naughty boy, just as well we have that thing to keep you under control.”
Soon he was back in his baby dress, matching bonnet and nappy cover and tights. There was another whimper of protest when his mother strapped the mittens on his hands again. She led him into his play-pen and clicked the side bars shut. Frank flopped down.
“Don’t worry sweetie”, she said soothingly. Frank looked up hopefully at his mother and Annabelle. “I promise you we won’t EVER try that again. I’ll get your bottle.” As she turned away Frank considered the implications of what she had just said. She won’t ever put him in boy’s clothes again? She won’t ever let him out of nappies again? EVER?!!!
THE END
– for us maybe, but clearly not for Frank.