Author Topic: The Fancy Dress Party (Read 91838 times)

DaraJaney · « **Reply #21 on:** April 26, 2006, 05:37:38 PM »

Shane was a little angel for the next few days. He was determined not to give his mother any excuse to punish him by keeping him in nappies and baby dresses any longer. He took all his feedings and bottles with good grace. He ignored all taunts and happily skipped along when out in public, curtseying to all passers by. It was horrific for him really but he gritted his teeth (or would have if it wasn’t for the dummy wedged in his mouth all the time).

On Saturday morning his mother went to answer the door. It was Helen and Emily. As she returned to the kitchen she heard a whimper from the high-chair. “What’s wrong dear?” Shane pointed to the floor. “Oh did you drop your dolly? Emily, will you give Shane his dolly before he starts to cry.” Emily picked up the doll and handed it to him. He pretended to be consoled.

His mother turned towards Helen. “I asked you over because I’ve made a decision.” Shane froze. “I’ve decided that Shane has been such a really good baby girl over the last couple of weeks.” At last, he thought, he had finally earned release from this torment. “He’s been such a good baby girl that I’ve decided to keep him this way.”

“Brilliant!” Helen squealed. Emily jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Shane was dumbstruck. “I couldn’t possibly let him go back to being a naughty boy so he’ll be staying in nappies and baby dresses since he seems so much happier as a baby girl.”

Shane spat out the soother. “No! I’m not happy at all! I was just trying to be good so that you would let me go.” “Oh dear”, his mother said. “Still a bit of the naughty boy left in you. This is precisely why we’ll have to keep you as a baby girl.”

“But it’s not fair”, he protested. “If I’m good as a baby girl, you want to keep me this way and if I’m bold, you want to keep me this way as a punishment. I can’t wi….mmmm.” His mother pushed his soother back in. “Life’s a bitch, isn’t it.” They all laughed.

He spat the soother out again. “You can’t do this!” Helen stepped forward calmly and reinserted his soother. “Now tell me this.” Shane glared at her. She took his hands and held them up. “Do you agree that you are helpless as long as your hands are in these mittens?” Shane nodded. “You can’t feed yourself?” She waited. He nodded again.

“You can’t take your nappies off or your sweet baby dresses. You can’t get out of your high-chair or play-pen or cot if we don’t want you to.” He nodded again slowly. “If we tell you to, you have to show off your panties and curtsey and skip and kiss your dollies.” His nod was barely perceptible this time. He sniffled.

“Do you accept that you are totally helpless and have to do everything we tell you?” Tears were coming to his eyes. She wasn’t going to proceed until he nodded again, so he did. “Do you accept, then, that if we decide that you are to remain in nappies and baby dresses, there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it?” Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. Helen turned to his mother. “Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”

His mother stepped forward, swung the tray back and unstrapped him from the high-chair. “Now the first thing we need to do is to get rid of your boy’s clothes.” “Mmmm?” “Well you won’t require them any more. They might as well go to a deserving cause.”

Shane fell to his knees, pressed his hands together and looked up at her pleadingly. “Mmmmm.” “Don’t be silly. Get up. It’s decided. Nothing is going to change my mind”, she said firmly.

She pulled him to his feet and brought him up to his room. Helen carried a couple of black bin bags. His mother opened his wardrobe. On the left side hung his other baby dresses, on the right his trousers. She removed the hangars from which his trousers hung and draped them over his arm. Helen held out the bag with a wicked smile. “Go on. Put them in the bag.”

He was crying again and couldn’t bring himself to throw out his trousers. He rubbed a damp eye with his free mitten. Helen rustled the bag impatiently. Eventually he dropped the trousers into the bag and started sobbing uncontrollably. Helen shook the bag so that they dropped to the bottom.

His mother handed him a pile of shirts. He dropped them into the bag, then his sweaters. There was nothing left hanging in the wardrobe now but his baby dresses.

They brought him to the chest of drawers. Emily held out another bag. He gathered his boxer shorts, rolled up socks and tee-shirts and dropped them into the bag. Emily tittered. His mother could now spread out the remaining contents of the drawers – his frilly panties, pairs of tights, bonnets and such. He sobbed again as Helen and Emily took the bags from the room and left him with nothing but his baby clothes.

When they returned, his mother had put him in the cot. He knelt and leant on the side bars as he watched her go through the other things in the room. “Would Emily like to take his computer?” “Oh yes please!” Emily replied excitedly. “Mmmmm!” Shane said from the cot.

“But dear, you won’t be able to use the computer anymore or a lot of these other games”, his mother told him. “The least you can do is let Emily have them.” Shane glared at his niece.

“Don’t worry”, Helen reassured him, “we still have lots of Emily’s old toys from when she was a baby. They will be more suitable for you now.” Tears streamed down Shane’s face as they gathered up his favourite games and removed his football posters.

He whined through his dummy because he actually had a wet nappy now but they thought he was just continuing to complain about losing his boy’s stuff and they ignored him. Eventually, he had to deliberately do a noisy poo and it was only then they realised that he needed changing.

Later they brought him over to Helen’s house. She took out a couple of chests full of old toys, many still in their boxes. “Now, only toys for 3 years old or less”, she told the others. Shane watched as they rummaged. Emily took out a box of Lego. “No dear, that is too grown up for Shane. Here is a box of bigger simpler blocks. Yes, this says two years plus.” Shane returned to his house with arms full of baby toys.

That night he lay in his cot staring at the two baby dresses in the otherwise empty wardrobe. His worst fears had come true. This was his future now - nappies and sissy clothes. He had nothing else to wear even if he managed to get the mittens off sometime.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #22 on:** May 01, 2006, 05:30:20 PM »

On Monday morning Shane was sitting in his play-pen in the front room. He burped again from his bottle of warm milk. He looked up as he heard chattering outside on the road. The din increased and he could hear children calling up and down the road at each other.

Then he remembered. It was the first day back at school. He recalled how, in previous years, he hated going back after the summer holidays. He would give anything now to be able to go back to school.

Some of the voices came closer. He looked up at the window with concern. Then a few faces appeared and looked in at him. “Yes! Shane is still being kept as a baby”, one of them called out. “I told you!” another said, “his mother is keeping him in nappies. She’s given away all his boys clothes and all he has to wear now are baby dresses and frilly panties.” They all laughed as they peered in at the boy looking miserable in his play-pen.

“I heard he can’t help but wet and poop himself and he needs to wear nappies now anyway”, a girl said. Shane frowned indignantly at this lie. But then he realised that he did poop himself uncontrollably because of the diet his mother had him on. He started crying again.

“Oh look, the big baby is going to go boo-hoo.” More children gathered at the window. “Look! Shane is still in nappies and baby dresses. He’s not coming back to school, ever!”

Eventually the children had to tear themselves away or they would be late for school. When his mother came into the room the tear stains were still evident and he was nursing the dummy particularly vigorously and holding his dolly tightly.

Later she showed him some photos a neighbour had given her. They were of Shane at the fancy dress party. “Oh look. That was your first day back in nappies. Little did you know you were going to stay that way.”

The best photos had been enlarged. She went over to the mantle piece where there were two treasured photos of Shane taken when he was about eight and twelve. She took those photos out of the frames and replaced them with the photos of him in his pink baby dress. She re-placed the frames in their pride of place on the mantle piece. She walked out to the kitchen holding the two old photos. Shane heard the lid of the bin snap shut.

She came back and went to the book shelves. She took out the family photo album. Shane watched as she went through page by page removing all the photos of him. In the empty pages at the back she put in all the new photos sent to her by the neighbour. She showed each one to Shane before she put it in the album.

She replaced the album on the shelf, came back and picked up the pile of old photos. She tore them into little pieces as she headed for the kitchen.

Shane looked at the photos on the mantle piece. He looked around the room. His action-movies and football DVDs were gone. There was a blank space on the bottom shelf where his comics used to be. There wasn’t a single reminder of his former life in the room.

He thought of his bedroom. His clothes were all gone. His computer and games were all gone. His bed was gone. His football posters had been thrown out. Instead there was the cot, his dolls and baby toys.

In the afternoon, his mother was reading him a fairy tale when the phone rang. She answered it. “Hello Mr. Biggs.” It was the head master from the school. “Yes, that’s correct. I told Mrs. Philips that Shane would not be returning to school. He’ll be staying here at home with me. He’s here in his play-pen now.” Shane could just about hear Mr. Biggs’ voice but couldn’t make anything out. “Oh you are quite happy for him to be off your hands? I know! He has been a bit of a devil hasn’t he?” Shane thought this was grossly unfair.

“Well, as you know he’s a sweet little baby girl now so we won’t be having any more trouble from him.” Mr. Biggs spoke again. “Yes, we could do that. I’d be delighted. Tomorrow? No problem. Good-bye.” His mother put down the phone.

“Mr. Biggs has asked me to bring you down to the school tomorrow to show you off to all the classes”, she said with great excitement. Shane was dumbstruck. Surely she wouldn’t. “We’ll have to get those sausage curls pressed again tomorrow”, she said airily as she headed for the kitchen. Shane wanted to die. Then he realised that he had wet himself.

The next morning she threw open the curtains in his room. Shane rubbed his sleepy eyes with his mittens. He had half-woken briefly an hour earlier, wet himself and drifted back to sleep. Now his nappy was all cold and he was cross.

He got up on his knees and held the side of the cot. His mother stood before him bright and cheerful. “Now do you want to wear your pink dress or your yellow one to school?” He just wanted to be changed. He pointed at his nappy. “I’ll get you changed just as soon as you decide which dress you want to wear.”

Shane sighed. Pink was obviously the sissiest colour but if he wore the yellow dress she would almost certainly put him in the huge frilly pettipants. Then he thought of the pink tights and pointed at the yellow dress. “Yes. You’re right. This one is lovely and short and really shows off your frilly panties. Damn, he thought.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #23 on:** May 02, 2006, 07:04:29 PM »

He stood in front of the mirror as his mother fussed over his outfit. She ran her fingers through his freshly pressed sausage curls. She fluffed his organza petticoats until they stood out just right. She spent a long time tugging at the lace on his pettipants so that each row was perfectly straight. She noticed that the pattern of pink roses down the side of his white tights was slightly out of line so she twisted the tights until they were perfect.

As she tightened his harness he prepared himself as best he could for the coming ultimate humiliation. He was about to be paraded in front of all his school friends dressed as the sissiest baby girl any of them would ever have seen. It was inevitable that his mother would insist that he flounce about and pretend to be delighted with his new life.

He wondered had she forgotten about his dummy. It was sitting on the tray of his high-chair. Would he be spared that at least? She straightened the bows on his dress. Then she looked thoughtful. She smiled when she saw the dummy. “That would have been a disaster if we forgot your dummy”, she teased. She pinned it to his dress. His lower lip quivered as she held the dummy up to his mouth. “Come on. Be brave. No tears now.” He fought them back but failed. She pushed the dummy in. “You might as well be brave – you don’t have any choice.” And with that she tugged his rein and he waddled towards the front door clutching his dolly.

As they approached the school he saw that all the children were already in the classrooms. He scanned the windows as they went up the steps but nobody was looking out. “Shall we go to your own class first?” she asked him. He cringed, realising that she was going to bring him into every classroom in the school. “Well?” He shrugged. He was facing social death. He didn’t much care about the method of execution.

“Now I hope that you’re going to show them all how happy you are to be a baby girl in nappies and pretty dresses and panties.” He gave her a pleading look. “Otherwise your life is going to be pretty miserable for the next few weeks.” How could it be any worse?

She made a few adjustments to his dress. “Ready?” He felt that familiar warmth spread around his nappy. Oh no! Not now! He cringed. “OK. Here we go.” She opened the door and tugged the reins. His nappy was rapidly filling with the longest pee he had ever done. He couldn’t skip into the class while that was happening so he waddled in with a pained expression.

The class exploded into laughter. Mrs. Philips put down her chalk and smiled. She made no attempt to bring the class to order. Shane’s mother frowned disapprovingly at his pained expression. Shane realised that, on top of everything, he was probably in for a week of boiled parsnip and stewed prunes. His nappy continued to fill.

His mother made him curtsey and bend over but could do nothing about his miserable expression. Mrs. Philips kept asking his mother questions for the benefit of the class. “Does he really do everything in his nappies?” “Has he only got baby dresses to wear now.” “Where did you get those enormous frilly panties?”

When she seemed to have exhausted the questions, Shane prayed to be taken from the class. But he remembered that there was another dozen to go and he ceased to be in such a hurry.

Then Mrs. Philips had a thought. “You know, I’d say most of the children here have never seen an old-fashioned cloth nappy before.” “You’re probably right”, his mother said as she knelt beside him.

Tears flooded down Shane’s face as she pulled his panties down around his ankles. He cried so hard as his tights were pulled down that he shuddered. “Oh dear, he’s actually wet!” his mother observed. His plastic pants bulged with the weight of urine. Shane nearly bit off his soother he was suc-king so hard and almost broke his dolly in two he was hugging her so tightly.

The children all roared laughing and many pushed closer to get a better look. Soon they surrounded him in a circle.

“It’s just as well I brought his changing bag”, his mother said. “Is there somewhere we can go?” Mrs. Philips suggested the nurse’s station but she broke off on hearing a dribbling noise. “Oh dear, he seems to be leaking.”

She looked around desperately for something to put under him. Shane figured that this was a low as he could go. He was standing in the middle of all his school friends in a leaking nappy, wearing a huge frilly baby dress with his panties and tights around his ankles.

His mother grabbed some newspapers, spread them on the floor and made him stand over them. The children were in hysterics, many cringing as they watched the urine dribble out. Shane’s mother was now more concerned with saving his beautiful dress and pulled it over his head. She went to put it on a chair and nearly pulled out his teeth because he was still suc-king hard on the dummy that was attached to the dress.

She coaxed the soother from his mouth. His tights and panties were already wet. She made him sit down carefully and then told him to lie back so that the upper part of the nappy would absorb more of the urine. She pressed around his plastic pants trying to coax as much of the liquid into the cloth nappy as possible.

She fetched the changing bag. “Right we’ll have you out of that wet nappy in a jiffy”, his mother said cheerily. Shane looked up at the circle of grinning faces looking down on him as she pulled down his plastic pants and gingerly unpinned his nappy.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #24 on:** May 04, 2006, 07:12:51 PM »

Shane had his nappy changed in front of the whole class. They laughed at the way he lifted and lowered his bottom and turned over without a word from his mother, obviously extremely familiar with the routine by now. He just wanted to be changed as quickly as possible.

He was refitted out in his dress and his mother had even brought a spare pair of tights for him to replace the wet pair. She told the class that they were all welcome to visit him at home anytime. “Now, come along to the next classroom dear.” Shane sighed. There was only one down and another dozen to go.

By the time his mother led him out of the school he was a sniffling wreck. He’d been humiliated in front of about 300 children many of them years younger than him. His life was over. He would never be able to return to school.

Up to now, no matter how hopeless his situation was, he always hoped that he would be freed from his baby life. Now, safely back in his play-pen, he had lost all hope. He might as well accept his fate. He no longer even wanted to be freed because he could never face the public again with any shred of dignity.

He curled up in the play-pen and hugged his dolly. When his mother brought his bottle, he accepted it without emotion. As he suc-ked on the milk he began to feel comforted by its cosy warmth.

He tried to see the positive side of everything. He no longer needed to worry about his toilet. He could simply wet or soil himself whenever he felt like it. He was perfectly safe at all times, confined to his play-pen, cot or securely strapped into his high-chair. He basically had no worries whatsoever. He could just play with his toys and dollies, be fed and changed and try to forget that he should be a teenage boy out playing football and teasing girls.

He could be almost totally content if it wasn’t for his daily outings in public to the shops and playground. He learned to ignore the taunts about his nappies, frilly panties and baby dresses. He just skipped along as required without showing any emotion, focussing on looking forward to being back in the security of his play-pen with his cuddly toys.

Often it was hard not to cry at the taunts or at his permanently babified status but he hoped that if he concealed his embarrassment, they would eventually get tired and leave him alone.

Unfortunately for him, this never happened. His niece Emily, in particular, was delighted with her baby uncle and brought a never-ending succession of friends over to see him, forcing him to perform like the perfect sissy baby. They were always astounded at his sausage curls, frilly dresses and huge nappy and at the way he was totally resigned to his fate to be treated totally like a baby.

Gradually he lost all control over his toilet. He would find himself wet without remembering when he had peed. Frequently he would wake from a nap already wet. He became dependent on his soother. As soon as Emily realised this, she made a point of taking it from him when she was showing him off to her friends. They loved the way Shane cried and reached out for his dummy. Eventually Emily would return it to him and he would jam it into his mouth and nurse it rapidly as if to make up for lost time.

As soon as Mrs. Wilson was finished his sailor dress they were designing his next outfit. Emily had lots of ideas for adding more frills and bits and bobs which surprised her mother since she had never shown any interest in girly clothes before.

His mother found a big baby blue romper suit in a fancy dress store and brought it home to see how he looked in it. Shane was thrilled to be wearing something that wasn’t a dress for once. Even though the bulge around his bottom was obvious and stretched the romper to its limit, he still felt a little less sissy in it.

Emily didn’t like it at all though. “Do you want him back in his baby dresses?” her mother asked. Emily nodded firmly. She fetched his yellow dress from the wardrobe and held it out for his mother. Much to his disappointment she unzipped the romper and that was the last time Shane ever got to wear anything other than a pretty baby dress.

[This is definitely the end of this story. Many thanks and hugs and kisses for all the compliments and encouragement. I don't reply to each one because it would clog up the system but I do appreciate it.

I have a scenario for the next story that will require a bit of planning so please be patient. Dara xxxxx]