Clarissa's Visit

[sissyboy1212]

This is another short story I had an idea for a while back. Finally got around to writing it down. It could be interpreted a little darkly I think, but it's still PG-13. 

-----------

PART 1

With a sense of dread, Mike Bradley slowly opened the door to his house after returning from school. He had been looking forward to this spring holiday for weeks. His friend Charlie was hosting some classmates at their family’s lake house this weekend to enjoy the spring weather, watch some baseball games, and do all the other things teenage boys did with a break from school. He would be off school all next week.

After Mike celebrated his 18th birthday in January, he felt like he was starting a new and exciting part of his life. He knew that he’d been slacking off a little in school, but it was his last semester before graduation. His mom was not pleased when he brought home three C’s, two D’s and only one B- on his interim report card last week. She had already been upset with him after that little fender-bender he’d had while cruising with his buddies a few weeks ago. She had let him hear it about the insurance deductible, but since so much time had passed he had figured he was more or less in the clear.

But then he had gotten the text message from his mother earlier this afternoon. As he read it, an icy ball had formed in the pit of his stomach. He knew at once that all his plans for a fun weekend with his friends were now hopelessly dashed.

“Mike, Clarissa will be here at 4:30 this afternoon. Come straight home after school and get ready for her visit.” He read and re-read the text as his heart sank. It had been over a year since he’d heard his mom mention Clarissa, but he knew this text message meant his weekend was going to be miserable.

Reluctantly, he texted back to his mother with the question he was almost afraid to ask, “how long is Clarissa going to stay?” He could feel his face turning red as he hit “send” on the message.

The reply came back quickly, and it was ominously open-ended. “At least a week maybe longer… it will all depend on how well things go.” Then this, “Remember don’t waste time coming home. I expect Clarissa at 4:30, ok?”

Dejectedly, Mike answered, “ok” and put his phone down. Clarissa was everything he was not. She was such a goody two-shoes and a complete girly-girl. He didn’t care for her at all, and her visits were never fun for him.

Later, he’d had to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to come to the lake.

“Dude why not?” Charlie had asked disappointedly, “you know it’s going to be EPIC!”

“My, err, cousin Clarissa is visiting… I won’t be able to come dude,” Mike had told him. He tried to keep his explanation vague even after Charlie pressed him on it. Frustrated with his friend, Charlie finally just rolled his eyes and walked away. Mike did his best to dodge his friends the rest of the afternoon to avoid more questions. The remainder of the school day passed in a blur. All his classmates were excited and happy to be starting spring break which just made things seem worse. Mike walked home with his thoughts racing.

Coming into the house, he saw there were two messages on the answering machine. He figured he’d better check them.

“Mrs. Bradley, this is Kaley from Shear Elegance. We were able to squeeze you in for an appointment this afternoon at 5:00 if that will work. See you then!” Mike knew Shear Elegance was the name of the ladies salon his mother used. This was not good.

Nervously, he played the second message which was also for his mother. “Carol, this is Dolores Haverford returning your call. Of course, we’d be thrilled for Clarissa to help us with our bridal show on Saturday. She’s a lovely girl and we can certainly use her. She’ll need to be here Saturday morning at 8:30 am sharp for her fittings and rehearsal. The show is at 2:00 pm Saturday afternoon but we should have plenty of time. She’ll be able to make a little money and of course get a good discount on anything she’d like to buy. Look forward to seeing you tomorrow!”

Sighing, Mike felt even gloomier now. He looked at the time and saw it was almost 3:00 already. Dejectedly, he knew he had to start getting ready. He was well aware of what his mother expected of him during Clarissa’s visits, and he couldn’t put it off any longer.

He trudged up the stairs and found the door to his bedroom was locked as expected. He was surprised, however, to see that a new heavy padlock and hasp had been added above the normal lock after he had left that morning. It was a clear signal to keep out. He continued down the hall to the guest bedroom. This bedroom was decorated in a very feminine style. White wooden furniture with light gray carpet. A girly pink bedspread and bedskirt. Multiple decorative pillows in pastel colors. Billowy pink curtains with ruffles over the windows. A vanity table and two nightstands with antique lamps. A Raggedy Anne doll propped up on a tiny doll chair by the vanity. Gauzy pink accents everywhere, and a couple of Monet posters adorning the walls. “Sheesh this is a perfect room for Clarissa,” he thought, “It’s awful!” She always stayed here when she visited and there was even a framed photo of her as a young girl wearing a poofy pink Easter dress with white Mary Janes and ruffled ankle socks. Her hair was tied up in pretty pink hairbows and she was smiling sweetly. He remembered that Easter, and he thought she had looked like a prissy, pink nightmare.

[sissyboy1212]

PART 2

Mike glumly undressed and put all his clothes in the white plastic crate by the door. He took the silky white bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and reluctantly slipped it on with a shiver. It was so incredibly girly. Then he went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. He used the fruity smelling shampoo and conditioner on his longish brown hair. After his shower, he put his robe back on, towel dried his hair and returned to the guest bedroom with a fluffy pink towel wrapped around his damp hair.

Now came the part he had really been dreading. He opened the top dresser drawer and gazed down at all the frilly garments. Immediately, he saw there were several new items of clothing in this drawer. The small white cardboard box with the pink ribbon on it, however, was just as he remembered it. He took the box and—after hesitating momentarily—he lifted the lid. He gingerly took out the small pink chastity device. He knew exactly how to fasten the cage around his private parts. Sighing heavily, he cheerlessly put it on. Instantly, he remembered how confining it felt. With a depressing click of finality, he closed the tiny brass padlock. The little key in the box was tied to a satiny pink ribbon. He removed the key and placed it on the dresser before returning the box to the drawer.

With his boy parts now securely locked away in their pink plastic prison, he next picked out a pair of panties. He decided to go with a lavender nylon pair with white lace. They were brand new, but he had no doubt they were the correct size. Slipping them up his slender legs, he felt humiliation but nevertheless that familiar tingle of forbidden excitement returned. Almost without thinking, he took the matching bra and slipped it on effortlessly. He had done it before. The bra had sewn-in pouches into which he inserted two small pads to give himself just a hint of curvature. Mike looked in the mirror and adjusted his bra straps until they were straight.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he was chagrined to see that his body looked very much like a young teenage girl’s. He still hadn’t really hit his growth spurt. He was just starting to get some light hair on his legs… he hoped he’d be able to avoid shaving them. It had taken forever to grow this much. He thought about it a moment and decided he needed the stockings. He pulled out a very sheer pair of off-white pantyhose. Sitting down at the vanity, he rolled the pantyhose delicately over his toes and pulled them on. Sliding his pantyhose over his panties, he could feel himself getting aroused in his plastic cage despite himself. The old shame was returning quickly.

Turning to his hair now, he took off the towel and gently blow dried his hair to give it a little lift and volume. Plugging in the flatiron, he used it to flip the ends of his shoulder length hair in a very cute and feminine way. He skillfully worked in some mousse and soon had his hair done into an adorable girls’ hairstyle. Sliding open the vanity drawer, the teenaged boy pulled out two white barrettes which he placed in his hair on either side. He knew it looked cute, and he felt sure it would please his mother.

His barrettes were not toddlerish, but something more like a younger teenager would wear. He knew he did not look eighteen now even for a girl. Closer to fourteen or fifteen he guessed. In spite of himself, he was always attuned now to teenage girl fashion trends. He spritzed on some hairspray and deftly used his fingers to make the finishing touches.

Glancing at the clock, he saw it was nearly 4:00 so he went to the closet. Only 30 minutes until Clarissa was supposed to be here. His pulse quickened a bit as he opened the closet door and a flood of unpleasant memories rushed back.

To his dismay, he saw several new items hanging there along with all the older outfits he had expected. With growing concern, he realized all these new outfits meant his mother expected Clarissa might be staying a while. Neatly arranged rows of pretty girls shoes on racks lined the floor of the closet. Looking at some of the fancier little girl party dresses, he was grateful at least that he had outgrown some of them and they would surely no longer fit. Each pretty dress, skirt and blouse had its own set of associated memories he had tried very hard to forget.

Pensively, he ran his fingers across the pink ballet leotard and bouncy tutu, remembering two weeks of private ballet lessons from his mother’s friend that summer when he was twelve. He and one other boy named Tom had both been signed up for the class with three younger girls. He’d never forget Mrs. Cranston, the teacher, and how thrilled she was to have a couple of boys in class. It was so embarrassing to do that private recital at the end of the two weeks for all the mothers and some of their friends. The few pieces they performed had been prepared for all girls, so he and Tom had to dress just like the girls. His mother had enrolled him for another month of private lessons when he was fifteen. Thankfully, that time didn’t involve a recital.

After perusing all the new outfits, Mike chose a sailor-inspired navy blue dress with a cute white bow in front and a flared skirt. The puffed short sleeves and hem had some very feminine white piping accents. He thought it would look nice with his hose and barrettes. Appropriate for spring and not too dressy, he hoped it would meet with his mother’s approval. After a moment’s consideration, he decided to grab one of the layered tulle petticoats as well. Better safe than sorry.

[sissyboy1212]

PART 3

Mike stepped to the mirror and held the dress against his body. The teenage boy felt like such a sissy. His friends were getting ready to have a fun weekend at the lake. He was selecting a dress to wear. He had allowed himself to believe this part of his life was over, but he knew it was his own fault. The grades… damaging the car… it all came crashing down on him now. His heart fluttering, he stepped into his frilly petticoat and fastened it around his narrow waist. The airy layers of tulle tickled and made him strain even more against the pink chastity device.

Finally, he slipped on his dress with a shiver. With practiced ease, he zipped himself up and fastened the button in back. He adjusted the skater type collar and straightened the white bow across his bosom. Then he tugged the dress to arrange it sweetly over his petticoat so it flared nicely. The petticoat rustled underneath and just showed a bit under the skirt which ended slightly above his knees. He swished it gently to make sure it fell correctly. He saw himself in the mirror and was dismayed at how girlish he still looked even at eighteen. The clock said 4:10.

He returned to the closet and found a brand new pair of navy T-strap ballet-style flats. He knew they would fit him. He gathered his skirt underneath him and sat back down. Then, Mike strapped his new ballet flats on his petite stockinged feet. Square gold buckles secured the dainty straps which encircled his slim ankles. Returning to his feet and looking in the mirror, he knew the words which described the way he now looked: Adorable, precious, sweet. He felt so helpless.

Now it was 4:15. Sitting at the vanity, he reached for the makeup case. First, some very light concealer to hide the normal teenage blemishes. He used a little more to disguise the peach fuzz on his upper lip. He hoped to keep that, but he wasn’t optimistic. Some pale pink lipstick. A little blush. Nothing too heavy. His mother would not allow him to look like a tart. He had to go for sugary and sweet. No time to do anything extra to his nails, but he kept them pretty well groomed out of habit. They were probably good enough.

Mike realized he’d almost forgotten his earrings. He’d had his ears pierced a couple years ago and he sometimes wore cool-looking earrings like some other teenage boys. Today, he reached for a pair of simple, feminine pearl studs to complete his demure look. Returning his gaze to the mirror, Mike had all but disappeared. All he saw was a very cute and pretty teenage girl. The sailor type dress was a little on the juvenile side, but thankfully not overly so.

He did one final touch-up on his hair with the flatiron and unplugged it. He knew that he would be dressing this way for a week at least. If he was sloppy or insufficiently feminine, it would undoubtedly be longer. He hated every second of this, but as long as he was under this roof he really had no choice. The harder he tried to look girlish, he believed, the sooner it would all be over. He had first heard the term “petticoat punishment” when he was just an unruly eight year old. Over the years, he had come to dread skirts and dresses. He had spent plenty of time in them, however, and knew more about girly things than any teenage boy should. He realized unhappily that he had been wearing girls clothes on and off for ten years now… over half his young life.

To be returned now to this petticoated state at the age of eighteen, when he thought it was all in his past, was almost unbearable. Looking at himself, he nearly came to tears but he couldn’t smudge his makeup. He was supposed to be a man now, but instead he was crying just like a little girl. He took a tissue and delicately dabbed the corner of his eye. Who was he kidding? The clock said 4:25. Clarissa was supposed to be here at 4:30. Time to head downstairs. He picked up the plastic crate with his boy clothes and walked to the stairs, getting used to his new ballet flats.

Just in time, he got to the bottom of the stairs and heard his mother’s car pull up outside. He hurried to put the crate in the laundry room and then stood shyly by the front door. He did his best to stand up straight and folded his hands delicately in front of him.

As Carol Bradley entered the house, she saw her son standing demurely by the door awaiting her arrival. She smiled happily. He looked just adorable in his new sailor dress, and she was satisfied to see he was wearing a fluffy white petticoat underneath. His hair was done up in a cute style, and his T-strap shoes were just darling. Promisingly, she saw nice attention to detail with the earrings, the sheer stockings and charming white barrettes. His cheeks were slightly pink from embarrassment which just made him even cuter in her eyes.

She was elated to see that all the old habits and hard-fought lessons were still alive and well. They had been there all along just beneath the surface. Why hadn't she done this in over a year? This refresher was long overdue.

“Hello, Clarissa,” she said purposefully to her girlishly attired son, “I'm so delighted to see you again!”

[sissyboy1212]

PART 4

Upon hearing his mother call him “Clarissa” for the first time in over a year, Mike’s cheeks flushed red with humiliation. He had always felt it was an excruciatingly girly name. “Good afternoon Mother,” the petticoated teen replied with the most genuine smile he could muster. “I’m so pleased to be back,” he gushed. “Thank you so much for my pretty new dress!” he said with forced enthusiasm. He realized belatedly that he was lilting his voice very expressively... exactly as he had been taught to do through constant repetition. Knowing what was expected, he dropped gracefully into a sweet little curtsey for his mother. Ever since he was eight, Clarissa had been an unwelcome intruder into his life. He feared all her mannerisms were now permanently ingrained in him. Now she was back again in the open for who knows how long, and he knew deep down she would always be with him.

“Oh that’s precious Clarissa!” his mother exclaimed. “That dress is so cute on you,” she continued. “Don’t you have something else for me though, dear?” she asked pointedly.

Grimacing, the feminized teen said, “Yes of course Mother.” With a shaky hand, he obediently handed over the small brass key tied to the pink ribbon.

Smiling cheerfully, his mother said, “Very good. We won’t be needing this for quite a while. I’ll hold onto it for safekeeping and remove any nasty temptations.” The shamefaced boy watched powerlessly as she dropped the key into a little change pouch and then zipped it into her purse. There was no point in resisting. He knew his mother would quickly overpower any hint of his defiance.

He thought back to that old framed photo upstairs. He remembered well the spanking he had received beforehand because he wouldn't pose properly in his frilly Easter dress. Clarissa's sweet smile was only achieved after over an hour of tears and pouting until he presented the precious, sissyish look finally captured in the photo.

Continuing, his mother said “Well come along Clarissa, You have a hair appointment at Shear Elegance in half an hour. We’ve already decided on the perfect hairstyle for you. You’ll love it! And I couldn’t help but notice your nails are atrocious, so you’re getting a manicure and polish to address that as well. While we’re there, I’ll have Kaley wax that nasty little fuzz right off your lip. One little yank and you won’t need all that concealer. Won’t that be a relief? You’re going to be so adorable!”

Beet-red, Mike could only gulp and say, “Oh yes Mother thank you!”

At a rapid clip, his mother continued to describe his upcoming weekend, “Now Clarissa, you may have already heard it on the answering machine, but you’re going to help model some spring fashions for Mrs. Haverford tomorrow. You’re too young to wear a wedding gown but you’ll get to do lots of bridesmaid dresses! Of course, you’ve done it before so she was ecstatic to have you participate again. Plus you’ll earn good money to start paying for that auto repair!”

“Yes Mother,” the frocked teen replied softly as he began to get a fuller picture of what his spring break would be. Unlike some in the past, this would not be a punishment spent mostly at home. He was going to be out and about among lots of people as Clarissa. This was going to be horrible. He shifted his feet nervously and his petticoat rustled airily.

“She’s also offered to let you work some shifts at her bridal shop next week. It’s wedding season and they are flooded with customers. Between that and the tutor I’ve hired to help you with your schoolwork your spring break will fly by! And oh yes I’ve got another splendid surprise for you, darling. You remember Mrs. Cranston, don’t you, your ballet teacher? Well she’s offered to give you some more lessons... ballet and tap! She also mentioned something about deportment. Your gym teacher agreed that you could apply it as extra credit to bring up that C in Physical Education. Mrs. Cranston will send the school a letter outlining your progress. Isn’t that wonderful?”

His thoughts swirling, the humiliated teen said, “Yes Mother oh thank you!” He would be dressing as a girl, working in a dress shop, taking ballet and doing extra school work while all his friends had a fantastic holiday. The thought of all the fun he would miss just added to his misery. Clarissa was back with a vengeance.

“One last thing, dear, and you know how vitally important this part is,” his mother said sternly, making it clear she would tolerate no recalcitrance.

Mike knew what would come next. It was the inevitable conclusion. He had known it ever since he got that first text message. Like a magical spell, it would complete his transformation into the girly-girl Clarissa until his mother decided the punishment was over.

Carol Bradley took both his hands in hers and looked him squarely in the eye. "Where is Mike?" she inquired of him. 

Mike took a deep breath and sighed in reply, "Mike is restricted to his room. He's grounded."

After a long pause, she asked pointedly, “Now tell me, honey. What is your name?”

Cornered and blushing furiously, the feminized teenager gave the only correct answer. “My name is Clarissa, Mother,” he said in surrender. After a pause, he repeated softly and almost to himself, “I’m Clarissa.”

“Wonderful!” his mother beamed as she squeezed Clarissa’s hand. “We’re going to have a lovely time!” Clarissa meekly followed her to the car and they were off to the salon.

THE END

[jenniesissy]

Thank you so much for the delightful short story that is so reflective of the dreams of us who wish we could have been raised by a dominant Mommy!  Wonderful ..

[sissyboy1212]

Thank you jenniesissy. I'm so glad you enjoyed it and I appreciate your comments.

[Sissy Ballerina Boy]

Please make a prequel about his ballet experience.