The Braid-y Bunch by sissycaroline

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The Braid-y Bunch

Username: sissycaroline , Nov/1/2005 08:08:09 [-04][new]



Note to readers--This story is the sequel to "Braids and Beyond" and picks up where that left off. It is assumed that the reader has read that story first.



Here's the story of three lovely ladies,

Who were bringing up three very lovely boys.

All of them had nice long hair, like their mother's

The youngest one in curls.



It was 7:40 AM and I was standing alone at the bus stop, waiting to be picked up for my first day back to school. A chilly breeze danced underneath the, not too full, short petticoat that flared out my equally short, red plaid pleated skirt. My long, white knee socks, ending in my black patent leather Maryjanes, did afford me some protection from the chill. I wore a crisply ironed and starched white blouse with a Peter Pan collar and the training bra, underneath, had tissues stuffed in the cups to give me a modest bit of cleavage. With my left arm, I girlishly held my school notebook up against my bosom. In my right hand, I held my purse. My braids were precisely done and each had a red plaid bow at the end to match my skirt. My face was lightly made up and my pink lipstick matched my nails perfectly. Gold heart earrings adorned my pieced ears. On the back of my head, I wore a straw hat with a red plaid band around it which ended in long ribbons hanging down the back. I was a perfect little eight year old school girl, with two exceptions.



First, I was heavily diapered, with plastic diaper panties covering them. Covering those were red plaid matching bloomers with ruffles edging the leg openings. The ruffles ***ked out slightly underneath my skirt and petticoat.



Second, I wasn't an eight year old little girl. I was a thirteen year old boy in the eighth grade on my way to Junior High.



As the bus pulled up, a tear trickled down my cheek. When the bus door cranked open, I very hesitantly climbed aboard. A stunned look of awe and disbelief from the driver greeted me, which was followed by a giggle. "Good morning, Honey!" she said. "Take a seat in the very back please."



As I started down the aisle, a brief hush came over the noisy crowd of students. The hush was broken by an unseen voice. "Is that you, Carl?"



"Of course it's him, dummy, but his name's Caroline now!" came another unseen reply.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part2

Username: sissycaroline , Nov/1/2005 07:38:50 [-04][new]



As I reached the back of the bus, the two little girls separated, creating a space for me to sit between them. I carefully sat down on my butt, allowing my petticoats and skirt to encircle me. They were too short to smooth under me. I looked to the girl in the "Shirley Temple" perm and said, "Hi, Eric." He forlornly replied, "Hi Caroline, but I'm supposed to be called Erica now." Looking to the other side, I said, "Hi Dennis." It was no surprise when he responded with, "It's Denise now."



Well, misery loves company. At least I wasn't the only one who would suffer the humiliation of attending school as a little school girl. Our mothers, certainly (and no surprise to me), had gotten together to plan all of this.



Both Erica and Denise were dressed and petticoated similarly to me, except Erica's pleated skirt was tan and Denise's pleated skirt was navy blue. Both were equally short like mine. They sported little "buds" underneath their white blouses like mine and matching knee socks and purses and makeup and pink lipstick and nails and earrings in their pierced ear lobes. Erica wasn't wearing a hat but instead, wore a huge white, floppy ribbon bow at the top of his permed ringlets and sausage curls. Denise had a hat much like mine and had navy blue ribbons tied at the end of each long braid. Both were very red faced and fighting back tears. They must be wearing diapers, I thought.



I whispered to Erica, "Diapers?" He grimly nodded yes. Denise answered in the same manner when I asked him. "What happens if we wet or poop them at school?" Denise asked me. Erica listened in as I replied, "I don't know. I just pray I can hold it all in until I get home." Erica then asked, "How long are we gonna be like this, do you think?" None of our mothers had indicated how long, we discovered.



"It's all your mother's fault CAROLINE!" Erica said. I couldn't argue with that.



Not unexpectedly, the bus ride was sheer hell. "What pretty little school girls!"---"Love your 'Shirley Temple' perm, Erica!"---"Braids are just so 'you' Denise!"---"Did your mommies dress you this morning, sweeties?"---"What are you wearin****derneath your skirts and petticoats, Girlies?"---"Blow us a kiss sweet Caroline!"---"Are you enjoying being pretty little girls?"---"You're the sweetest little things!"---"Have any boy friends, sissies?"---"Want to sit on my lap Erica!"---"Will you lift your skirts, girls, and give us a show?"---"My, but you three are the prissiest pansies around!"---"Do you play with dollies when you get home?"---"What fags you must be to let yourselves be dressed like that!"---"Pretty ribbons sissy, boys! Did your mommies tie them?"---"Love the petticoats girls, trying to set a new fashion trend?"---"Girlie boys in skirts are sooooo cute!"---"Do you have Tampons in your pretty little purses?"---"Don't cry girls, you'll mess up your makeup!"---"Gonna try out for the cheer leading squad girls?"



These were only a small sampling of the taunting the three of us suffered at the hands of the boys and girls. At least, I thought, no mention of diapers was made.



As we reached school, being at the back of the bus, we exited last to a horde of jeering, laughing onlookers. "Here comes the BRAID-Y BUNCH!" someone yelled. Sadly, it was a fitting name for us, I thought.



Denise was the last to step off the bus and, in the panic of the moment, tripped slightly and stopped his fall with his hands. But his skirt and petticoat flew up long enough to expose his diapered and pantied bottom to the teasing crowd. "My God, he's wearing DIAPERS! I'll bet the three of them must be!" came from an unseen taunter.



Well, that secret didn't last long, though no surprise.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part3

Username: sissycaroline , Oct/6/2005 20:48:47 [-04][new]



As we made our way to the front entrance of the school, we saw Miss Quimby standing by the door. She was the assistant principal and in charge of discipline. She waved to us to come to her and told us to hold hands and follow her. Three little school girls obediently waddled forlornly behind her, hands clasped in each others', to her office. It was so shameful walking through the halls dressed as we were and holding hands. We were teased all the way there by our classmates.



In her office, we were seated on a long bench facing her desk. She spoke. "Well girls, you certainly look very pretty this morning. And you will be dressed and diapered similarly, every day, for the entire year. Arrangements have been made, through the efforts of Caroline's mother who is a teacher in a grade school in the district, for you to attend school as Denise, Erica and Caroline. You will be treated as and act like girls for the entire school year. Perhaps by that time, you will have learned how to behave properly. The three of you have been enrolled in all the same classes and your lockers are next to each others'. You have the same lunch period. At all times, you are to hold hands, as you just did, while walking to your classes. Each morning, after getting off your bus, the three of you are to quickly station yourselves at the main entrance where we just came in and you'll act as student body 'Greeters'. Meaning, you will curtsy to the students as they enter the school and wish them a cheery 'good morning'. Do you girls understand me so far?"



We, grimly, nodded yes.



Miss Quimby continued. "All bathrooms are off limits to you, both boy's and girl's. You're not real girls so you can't use the girl's bathroom and, dressed as you are, you certainly don't fit in a boy's bathroom. Besides, that's what your diapers are for. If and WHEN you mess your diapers, you are to raise your hands and, politely, ask your teacher if you can be excused to go to the health office to have your diapers changed. What I just said holds true for the entire school day, up until one hour before dismissal. If you wet or poop yourselves in the last hour of school, the nurse won't be bothered with changing you. You'll just have to wear your mess until you are changed at home. If you have pooped your diapers in that last hour, you will have to walk home, because none of your fellow classmates should have to endure your stinky diapers on the bus ride home. You are lucky that all three of you live close to school. Also, in that last hour, we won't have you stinking up your classroom. A large play pen will be set up outside the nurse's office for you to sit in until dismissal. You can bring your books and study there and do your homework, as your last period is a study hall anyways. Do you understand girls?"



"Yes." we sobbed in unison.



Miss Quimby further continued. "When anyone speaks to you or you talk to them, and that means ANYONE, you are to curtsy like a proper little school girl. Now, there is a brief assembly for the entire student body in the auditorium in five minutes. You will be introduced to them on stage and your circ-umstances will be explained. I have prepared similar brief statements for each of you to read aloud to the school."



She handed us each a piece of paper with our statement to read and dismissed us to the the auditorium. We curtsied as we left.



"Have a nice first day back to school!" she chided as we left.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part4

Username: sissycaroline , Oct/7/2005 23:42:14 [-04][new]



author's note---I fully realize that all of this is way too "fantastical" to happen in real life----but that's the joy of fantasies.



As the three of us made our way to the auditorium, Dr. Hayes, the principal, directed us up to the center of the stage and told us to just stand silently. The auditorium was full. There were many giggles and laughs at the sight of us. "Look, it's the BRAID-Y BUNCH!" someone called out. Dr. Hayes went to the microphone and welcomed the student body back and gave a fairly typical, brief "back to school" s***ch. In closing, he said, "I would now like to introduce three, somewhat new, students to everybody. And they have something to say to all of you. Denise, you may go first. And don't forget to curtsy." A lot of laughs were heard from the audience.



Tearfully, Denise, with somewhat of a waddle from his heavy diapering, made his way to the microphone. His petticoat and skirt bobbed gaily as he walked. He curtsied to great laughter and began to read aloud the statement Miss Quimby had prepared for him.



"My name used to be Dennis Tompkins but, now, I prefer to be called 'Denise' because...." Denise then through the paper to the floor and shouted, "I can't, I won't read these lies!!!!!" And he stomped his feet on the stage like a little girl. Dr. Hayes ordered him to read it but Denise still refused and started to walk off stage. He was grabbed by two guidance counselors, who easily returned him back to center stage.



"Read it Denise!" Dr. Hayes ordered. "No, I won't read these lies!" cried Denise. "Then you're going to be punished." Dr. Hayes replied.



The two guidance counselors turned Denise's back to the audience, bent him over, and lifted up the back of his pleated skirt and petticoats. Then, they pulled down his diapers and plastic pants and frilly bloomers; exposing his bare butt to the audience who roared with laughter. They held him in place. Dr. Hayes then produced a thick yard stick and reddened Denise's bare bum with a dozen whacks.



A few minutes later, diapers and panties still around his ankles, a very forlorn and contrite and shamed Denise sobbed as he read his statement.



"My name used to be Dennis Tompkins but, now, I prefer to be called 'Denise' because....because....I....I....ah....ah want, ever so much, to be a good girl, instead of the bad boy I used to be. I love being a girl. I....I....ah....love wearing girl's clothes and makeup and earrings and nail polish and wearing my hair in braids and ribbons. I need to wear diapers because I sometimes have accidents." He then curtsied and his diapers and panties were restored.



Erica and I then each read our similar humiliating statements without fuss. We surely didn't wish to be spanked like Denise.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part5

Username: sissycaroline , Oct/12/2005 01:07:29 [-04][new]





After finishing our humiliating speeches, the three of us held hands and quickly made our way off stage. Miss Quimby, the assistant principal was waiting for us. There were three girls from our eighth grade class with her. They were all quite pretty and I recognized them from being school cheerleaders. Looking at us, Miss Quimby said, "Girls, this is Ashley, Becky and Megan." We curtsied to the girls and they giggled. "One of these girls is assigned to each of you." She continued. "They are in all the same classes as you. They will be 'mentors' for you. Their job is to make sure that you act with proper girlish deportment at all times---meaning you behave as proper little school girls at all times." The girls had devilish grins on their faces. "You must obey them at ALL times. Do what they say at ALL times. In essence, they are in charge of and in control of you for the year. Do you understand sissies?" We curtsied and replied, "Yes mam." Ashley was assigned to me, Becky to Erica and Megan to Denise. Miss Quimby dismissed all six of us to go to our first class of the day.



We walked just a short ways before the three of "them" stopped the three of "us". Ashley, my mentor, spoke. "Okay, 'girlie boys', like Miss Quimby said, we're in charge of the three of you pathetic pantie waists! You do EVERYTHING we tell you. EVERYTHING! And if you don't, you'll be severely and very humiliatingly punished by us. Now, form a circle holding hands." We fearfully obeyed. "Now, give each other a nice wet kiss on the lips."



We were abhorred at the order and hesitated. I had never even really kissed a girl, much less a boy and the thought of it sickened me. "Please, no", I pleaded, but to deaf ears. "Now!!!!!" Becky ordered harshly.



In the middle of the hall, the three of us gave wet kisses on the lips to each other, as passers by roared and taunted us. "God, those sissies must be lesbians!" came one call. It was awful, not the humiliation as much as having to kiss a boy. One thing really surprised me though, and annoyed me too. When Erica kissed me, he stuck his tongue down my throat. I assumed he did the same with Denise. I certainly didn't like it and wondered why he did that.



As we walked, with a slight waddle from our diapers, to our first class, Megan ordered; "Put some wiggle in your hips girlie boys. Sashay as you walk. We want to see your pretty skirts and petticoats bobbing nicely as you go!" I knew what "sashay" meant but wondered if Erica and Denise understood. Apparently, they did, as the three of us bounced and boobed and swished and swayed our way to our first class, math.



Seats were left in the front of the class for the six of us. Each of THEM sat behind each of US. Our "mentors" (though, probably, the term "TORmentors" would be more appropriate) told us to not smooth our skirts and petticoats behind us to sit but, rather, to just sit on our butts and let our skirts and petties encircle us. This was, actually, sound advise.



Our math teacher, who seemed very strict, quieted the class with the admonition that the three new students in class (meaning us) were not to be a source of commotion or distraction to his lesson. "Behave or be dressed like them, and that certainly and especially includes you too, boys", he said.



As his lesson started, Ashley, who was seated behind me, began to tweak and play with my braids and ribbons, which hung down my back. I immediately pulled them forward. "You better put those girlish braids and ribbons back here immediately sissy boy", she whispered into my ear. I quickly obeyed. If it were a hundred years ago in school, I'm sure my braids would have been dunked in the ink well.



As the math lesson progressed, the teacher put some simple algebraic equations on the board and started calling up kids to the board, one at a time, to solve them. When my turn came, and Denise's and Erica's too, we each suffered the embarrassment of reaching up to write our answers, which greatly exposed our diapered and pantied bottoms. The class roared with laughter each time. Tears of great shame trickled down our faces. The class ended after that and it was off to the next.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part6

Username: sissycaroline , Oct/15/2005 15:40:11 [-04][new]



On the way to our next class, I noticed my braid ribbons were missing. I turned around to Ashley and saw her grinning. She was holding them in her hand. She must have untied them in math class. "Looking for these Sweetie?" she asked. "Does your mommy tie your ribbons or are you a big girl and can you tie them yourself?" I, begrudgingly, took them from her hand and tied them back in my braids. Everyone laughed at the sissy boy, girlishly tying ribbons in his braids. I was mortified. To add more insult to injury, Ashley took my purse and asked "What's inside?" and opened it. "Let's see, tissues, lipstick, makeup compact, nail polish, file, money--what--I'm surprised--no tampons!" she giggled. "We have a few minutes before social studies class. Use your compact and touch up your makeup and put more lipstick on." she ordered. "Please, not in front of everyone?" I pleaded. "Now sissy and you better get used to it!" she commanded. I, obediently, opened my compact and powdered my face and applied lipstick. Denise and Erica were made to do the same, as they had the same contents in their purses. Kids just roared with laughter at the three sissy boys doing their makeup. We wanted to die, at least Denise and I. Erica seemed to take it in stride though, almost cavalier about it. It was moments before the bell and we hurried into social studies class.



The teacher gave the same admonition that the math teacher had given about not letting the three new students cause a commotion or interference in class. "You too could wind up like them!" she warned the students. As the class was social studies, and Denise and Erica and I were in her class, the teacher seized the opportunity to talk about some unusual customs of late 19th and early 20th century America. "In those times, little boys often wore dresses and ringlets and ribbons in their long hair, until around the age of six or seven, when they were 'breeched'. This meant they would be allowed to wear short pants or knickers and would be given a haircut. Although some mothers chose to prolong it beyond young boyhood. Also, similarly, mothers often used a form of punishment for misbehaved boys called 'petticoat punishment'. Apparently, the mothers of Denise and Erica and Caroline have chosen to revive that form of punishment! How splendid!" she chimed. Oh God, I thought, a history lesson about our humiliating circ-umstances. A girl raised her hand and asked the teacher, "Did they have to wear diapers too?" Everyone heartily laughed and looked at us, as we sank down in our seats, very red with embarrassment. Class was dismissed and as we walked out, another classmate called, "Maybe if you're ever so good little school girls, your mommies will 'breech' you some time soon!" Another reply followed, "I hope not, they're way too precious like that!"



Out in the hall and nearing our next class, which was English, our mentors/TORmentors, again told us to hold hands in a circle and give wet kisses on the lips to each other. "Please not again!" cried Denise. "Don't you dare argue, sissy boy, or you'll receive much worse!" shouted Megan. As we obediently and humiliatingly kissed each others' lips, Erica, again stuck his tongue way down my throat. I responded by pushing him to the floor. His petticoat and skirt billowed up all around him and he started to cry, just like a little school girl. Mrs. Dexter, our new English teacher to be, was standing at her door and saw the whole thing. She came over and snatched me by a braid and pulled me into class. "You bad, bad little girl. You need to be punished for that!" She pulled me into her classroom and made me stand next to her desk, as the students entered and settled into their seats. I was too mortified to argue with her and didn't wish to tell her that I had been "tongued" by Erica. That would be too embarrassing. She turned my back to the class and bent me over. I started to cry, as she lifted up the back of my skirt and petticoat. "A good, old fashioned caning is what you deserve, you bad, bad little girl!" She pulled down my knickers and diapers, exposing my bare, girlish rear end to the class. She took a thick yard stick and gave me ten sharp whacks with it and then, sent me to the corner to stand for the remainder of the class with my knickers and diapers at my ankles and my skirt and petticoat held up. I spent the next forty five minutes displaying my very red, stinging butt to the class. At the end of class, Mrs. Dexter restored my diapers and knickers and sent me, sobbing, on my way. "Let that be a lesson to you to not push your classmates!" I wanted to die from shame.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part7

Username: sissycaroline , Oct/21/2005 21:00:27 [-04][new]



Out into the hall, the three of us went, followed by our mentors, and on to English class. I was so incredibly embarrassed from my bare butted ordeal that I cried unashamedly. I took a tissue from my purse to cry into, as everyone around us laughed and snickered. "Sissy boys like you deserve to be spanked!" Ashley said as we made our way into our next class.



English class was, thankfully, fairly uneventful, compared with math and social studies. I did have to "girlishly" retie my braid ribbons, though, after class, thanks to Ashley's playing with them. And our mentors made us lift our skirts and petticoats up so they could check to see if we were still dry. It was so humiliating.



Lunch was next and I wasn't particularly hungry but we had to go. Ashley, Megan and Becky had brought their lunches but Erica, Denise and I had to buy ours. The three of us got into the lunch line, me being the last. As we made our way through the line, a boy behind me kept lifting up my skirt and petticoat to see my knickers and diapers. I fought to keep them down. "Are you wet little girl?" he asked. I didn't respond. "How about a kiss Sweetie?" he laughed. I said nothing. "I bet you enjoy being a girlie boy!" he continued. I remained stoic. Finally at the cashier, I paid for my lunch and picked up my tray with both hands and started toward the table where our mentors were. As I took my first step, I felt two hands quickly reach under my skirt and yank my petticoat down. I squealed and looked down to see my petticoat around my ankles. Everyone roared with laughter. "I always wanted to see what little girls wear under their skirts and dresses!" said the boy behind me, who had pulled my petticoat down.



I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I just slowly shuffled my way toward our table, dragging my petticoat along to the taunts and jeers and laughter of the crowded cafeteria. At the table, I set my tray down and stepped out of my petticoat and took it in hand and started to head for the bathroom to put it back on. "Just where do you think you're going sissy?" Ashley shouted, over the laughter. "To the bathroom to put my petticoat back on." I replied. "Have you forgotten, you pathetic little pantie waist, that bathrooms are off limits to you?" she asked. I had forgotten. "But I need to put my petticoat back on Ashley," I pleaded. "You certainly do, missy!" she scoffed. "Hold up your skirt." she ordered. "No, no please!" I cried. "Do it or your diapers and knickers will be around your ankles next!"



I shamefully lifted my skirt above my waist and Ashley, painfully, slowly pulled my petticoat back into place and smoothed my skirt over it. The whole cafeteria got a good long look at my diapers and knickers. I couldn't have been more mortified.