He looked down.
"You want your dolly hmm?" She looked optimistic, friendly, she no longer had to tease or taunt him. Kneeling in his crib in a frilly nightie, with pigtails, make up, suc-king a dummy, he was defeated.
He nodded his head guiltily.
"Tell Mama how much you love her, maybe I will get it..."
It no longer mattered. A whole year, this was his life now.
"Wiv all my heart Mama!" He said, through his dummy, with enthusiasm. He needed that doll.
"How much do you love your Mama?"
He blushed. "Sho sho much Mama I wuv you sho much!"
She smiled. He was so cute right now.
"Isn't it better that I'm in charge now?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "Yesh Mama. Sho much better! Pleashe shtay in charge forever!"
She giggled.
"Now...what was it he wanted..." she said playfully.
"D-dolly...." he whispered, shamefully.
"Was it...this book, hmm?"
She was playing. He shook his head. It wasn't that.
"Was it...little mermaid?"
"Nuh-uhh!" he said, playing along.
"Oh I know how he loves his new pretty dresses...was it his pretty pink dress?"
He giggled and shook his head. What was that, he thought. This was such a simple game, why did he laugh?
"Oh I know. He wants his pretty dolly!"
He nodded enthusiastically. He knew this was embarrassing but this was his life for a year.
She handed her over through the bars of his crib, stroking his cheek, and he both loved and hated her in this moment. He hated mostly that he loved her. She handed him a sippy cup, and told him to "get his milkies".
Obediently, he lay back, holding his dolly close gratefully, drinking, up, before replacing his dummy.
As he lay back he could hear the dinosaur movie, very faintly, and he groaned through his dummy, tears silently rolling down. He went to sleep wondering what exactly he was becoming.
He once again woke in the middle of the night, needing the potty. He noticed his dummy had stayed in, and this, coupled with a realisation of how normal all this was becoming, he started to cry, which woke Amy.
As he sat on the toilet, his doting sister by his side, he reflected how he was trapped. He couldn't go without her, and he couldn't sneak away for anything. He couldn't use any time to be a boy right now even if he wasn't watched. If they gave him a day to himself, he had no idea where his male clothes where, and he was feeling so needy he wasn't even sure what he'd want to do.
He woke on the eve of his birthday, in his sisters room. The dummy was firmly in his mouth still, and as his sister called his name he suc-ked it instinctively, which made her giggle. He didn't know why she giggled, he didn't understand.
"Wakey wakey Mama's princess!" She said. Just as she did, their mother called for her, and she had to leave him. He had been woken by his own sister, yet could not get out of bed without her.
There he sat, in his crib. His thin, pretty nightie, his cotton knickers feeling soft. He had such conflicting emotions. He was trying to rationalise everything, that he was comfortable, that he could get used to things, but this act humiliated him. He fixed his own pigtails that had come slightly loose, and, suc-king on his dummy, picked up his doll and mouthed the words "another day" to her, sadly. He was losing his old self and it panicked him.
He could sit there waiting in silence, but it was so mind dumbing. He was already getting simpler. So he picked up his other dolls and started to play. He had no other way of entertaining himself or passing the time.
His sister came in after 45 minutes, walking in without him noticing. There he was, the sissy boy, with his dolls all sat around as he pantomimed with them.
She set up a camera and left him for another 20. She came back and he was still at it. Sure, he had nothing else to do, but a real boy would have gone back to sleep or sat there in boredom, she reasoned. Here he was, having conversations.
After letting him out and leaving him to his "Mummy" for breakfast, she reviewed the footage. He had long, conversations with the dolls. What their favourite dresses were. His, she learned, was his pink party dress. He even asked them what kinds of boys they liked. When it came to his turn, he just said strong tall dark princes. She knew how he felt about Natalie, this was part of the game, but she had something there to use for the future, she thought, confidently.
On Chris' mind was his forthcoming birthday. His mind was racing. How could he tell his mother he wanted this for a whole year? Maybe, if he told her the truth, she would finally relent and let him get out of this. Maybe, it would make no difference. Could he take the chance that she would follow up on the contract to make it permanent? Could he take the chance that a year as a little sissy girl would change him forever? He had to admit it to himself, he was changing, and this was too much. He needed his dolly. He found entertainment in little girls things. He needed his sister for everything. After a year what would be left? Could he take the chance?
He concluded he could not afford to spend the rest of his life like this.
He would recover after a year, surely. Even after a year of being an impotent child with no maturity. Eventually children grew up and so would he.
Later as he was sat on his playmat, with his dolls, in his "favourite" pastel pink, poofy party dress, both his sister and his Mistress Natalie entered.
"Hello little sissy..."
Natalie was the first to speak. Dressed as she was in denim shorts, fishnets, and a low cut vest top, with high heeled open toe shoes. She was getting more grown up, by the day.
"My my, how pretty and sweet you have become."
She said this with a warmth. He didn't have any choice in this life. But he still could not let her down even so, and gave her a welcoming smile. His pink lipstick pursing to give the most perfectly feminine smile, his thick long eye lashes batting unconsciously. If nothing else, he looked incredibly cute.
Amy noticed his enthusiasm.
"We've been talking with Mummy about tomorrow princess. It's your big birthday. Can you remember that?"
Of course he could. But he couldn't let on how obvious this question seemed to him. It may earn him corner time.
He nodded, quickly putting aside the obviousness of the question and treating it seriously.
Natalie smiled. "Do you remember what you have to tell your Mummy, little princess fussy knickers?"
Another cringe that he immediately disregarded. It was this disregardings that were the reason he was regressing fast. He had no more reason to question, but he should have done it anyway. He nodded.
"Tell Mama and Mistress what that is child. Tell us like the soft little girl we know you are now. Tell Mama what chrissie has to say and say it how he will talk tomorrow." His Mama said, confidently.
He paused. The two girls looking over him were so much stronger and mature than he was right now he couldn't help but feel intimidated.
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: Slow Burn (Repost) (Read 43217 times)
