The Braid-y Bunch by sissycaroline

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The Braid-y Bunch--part8

Username: sissycaroline , Oct/26/2005 21:26:23 [-04][new]



After lunch, we headed for home economics class. This, of course, was a class of nothing but girls and, now, three sissy boys. We were to be taught cooking and sewing and baby care and other such domestic skills. Boys took shop classes. (Remember from "Braids and Beyond"--part 1, that the year was 1980, when separate sewing/cooking/baby care classes for girls and shop classes for boys were the norm.)



The teacher, Mrs. Warner, was delighted to have me, Denise and Erica in class. "It's nice to have boys who are in touch with their feminine sides in class." she chortled as she began class. All the girls giggled. Denise and I just moaned. Erica actually smiled slightly. As Mrs. Warner began outlining what the class would be doing during the semester, she suddenly got side tracked and said, "You know girls, I just had an idea! What would you think about having our first sewing project center around our three lovely boys here? You could learn to make clothes for them! And they could be our mannequins. What do you all think?"



Ashley immediately raised her hand, "Could we make them pretty satin party dresses for the Fall Harvest dance next month?" Megan chimed in, "Yeah, nice and poufie and frilly and lacy and very full skirted, so they can wear lots of petticoats." The rest of the class added other suggestions like: "Lots of ribbons" and "pretty, long sashes" and "puffed sleeves" and "above the knee" and "one in pink and one in yellow and one in blue" and "frilly rhumba panties to go over their diapers". I knew, full well, the type of dresses the girls were thinking of. I already had one in my closet at home and had worn it many times. I could see Denise reeling in horror at the suggestions and I felt likewise. But Erica seemed unbothered by them, seemingly very accepting of the ideas.



"Well, that seems like a very tall order girls, but, you certainly have enough enthusiasm for the project. You'd have to learn and work very hard girls." Mrs. Warner cautioned. "WE WILL, WE WILL!" the class chimed. "Then party dresses and all the trimmings it will be!" Mrs. Warner declared. The class applauded loudly, and so did Erica. The remainder of the class was spent sorting out the details of what and how apparel would be made and who, in groups, would be making them. Our tasks (Erica, Denise and me) would be minimal. We'd just be "sissy mannequins" for way too zealous girls. This was sure to be a "frilly" hell for us, at least me and Denise. Class ended. As the three of us walked, holding hands of course, to our next class, science, I whispered to Erica, "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?" Erica simply responded by sticking out his tongue at me, like a petulant little girl.



Ashley heard me and saw Erica's response and said, "Caroline, you bad little girl, you apologize to Erica and give her kiss." I moaned, "Please don't make me!" Ashley ordered, "Now or I'll have you give her a lot more than an apology and a kiss! And don't forget to curtsy properly to her." I knew better than to press the issue more and curtsied and apologized and kissed her, receiving his tongue, naturally, in my mouth.



Thankfully, science was really pretty uneventful. The teacher was not interested in "sissy boys" and such. His only desire was to teach us earth science. Toward the end of class, I started to have that awful feeling of needing to use the bathroom, which, of course, was out of the question for me. I squirmed, trying to keep from messing myself. With class ended, our TORmentors walked us to the last period of the day, study hall. As we walked, I fought off the urge to wet and poop myself. When we reached study hall, I quickly seated myself and opened my notebook to start doing some homework, which I hoped would take my mind off my, seemingly, impending fate of using my diapers. But it didn't work for long. I lost the battle with my bowels. I farted loudly and expelled a huge, stinky load of poop, followed by a torrent of ***, into my diapers. Classmates around me just gasped in horror and then laughed. Ashley, who was behind me, groaned from the smell and quickly moved away.



I shamefully raised my hand and asked the teacher, "May I please go to the nurse?" The teacher devilishly grinned and answered, "Whatever for Sweetie?" She was going to make me suffer even more. I had no choice but to respond, "I messed my diapers." The class roared with laughter and I cried. "Well then, off you go little girl and have your didee changed!" she said.



I made my way to the health office as quickly as I could, where I was reminded, by the smiling nurse, that there was less than an hour left of school and I would have to wait to be changed at home. And that meant I would have to walk home, so as to not offend the bus riders with my smell. I could tell the nurse was relieved to not have to change my stinky diapers. She walked me out into the hall, where a baby pen was set up. She forced a pink pacifier into my mouth with the admonition to not remove it. "Poopy, wet baby girls need a soother!" she said. "Climb into your baby pen, Missy, and wait there until school's over." As I sat in my wet, squishy, stinky, poopy diaper, I cried thinking about the horrifying walk I'd soon take for home.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part9

Username: sissycaroline , Oct/30/2005 17:44:52 [-04][new]



As I sat in the playpen in my wet, stinky mess, suc-king on my pacifier, I hung my head shamefully to avoid seeing classmates who passed by. Unfortunately, I could certainly hear their comments about the stinky little baby girl displayed before them. "Oh phew, you stink little girl. Wouldn't the nurse change your poopy diaper?" said one girl giggling as she confronted me. A seventh grade boy passed by, "God, what a pathetic, poopy little sissy pansie you are! How can you let this be done to you?" Another boy approached and answered his question, "He, obviously, must like being a girl, and, apparently, a very LITTLE girl." I just kept my head hung and sobbed.



After ten minutes, I heard Erica's voice and looked up. "Hi Caroline, I'm gonna be keeping you company!" he said, rather gleefully and he climbed in and sat next to me. He immediately held my hand and I pulled mine out from his grip. "Becky and Ashley told me we were to hold hands in the playpen." he scolded. (I didn't know it, but this was a lie. They had given no such order.) And he took my hand again. "Did you mess your diaper?" I asked. "Well, I just wet it. I actually ***d on purpose so I could join you and walk home with you. Boy, you stink!" Erica said. "Sorry I stink so much," I replied. "But why would you purposely wet your diaper?" I asked, incredulously. "So I could be with you! I'd much rather walk home with you than ride the bus with Denise. He's no fun and I like YOU much better. Besides, you're a lot PRETTIER than he is! And you don't smell that awful." he chimed, as he squeezed my hand tighter. Erica then reached into his purse and pulled out a spray perfume and said, "But let me spray you with some cologne to get you smelling prettier." I normally would resist the offer but didn't, in the hope that it would cover up some of the smell of my diaper. (Boy, this kid is a freakin' faggot, I thought as he spritzed me all over with the cologne.)



Erica returned the cologne to his purse and then took from it a makeup compact and tube of lipstick. He opened the compact and looking into its mirror, girlishly powdered his nose and cheeks and forehead and reapplied lipstick. Next, he took a small container of rouge and reddened his cheeks with the brush. He then took out the spray cologne again and spritzed himself. "We girls have to smell nice!" he giggled. I just watched in disbelief over the fact that he was doing all of this without being ordered to by his mentor, Becky. With his makeup freshened, he looked into the compact's mirror and began to fuss and primp his permed sausage curls and ringlets with his fingers. He adjusted his ribbons. When satisfied, he looked to me and gushed, "How do I look Caroline?" I sarcastically answered, "You look pretty as a picture Erica!" Apparently, he didn't catch my sarcasm and beamed, "Gosh, thanks. You're such a sweetie!" And before I knew it, he leaned to me and kissed me on the cheek leavin*****known at the time to me, a very pronounced pink lipstick print on it. "Don't do that! No one ordered you to." I said. Erica teared a bit and said, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to." (God, this kid was really into this girlish stuff, I thought, and obviously had a crush on me. What a queer.)



Erica was undaunted and continued his girlish bantering. "I really love your braids and ribbons Caroline. I so wish that I had braids that reached down to the middle of my back. I ho*****ver so much, that my mommy will let me wear braids with pretty ribbons, when my hair is long enough. I'd love them even more than my ringlets and sausage curls! They require a lot of setting and rollers." I just tried my best to ignore him, but he continued. "I'm so happy that the girls in home economics are going to make us pretty, frilly little party dresses. I hope mine is pink. I know you have a very pretty pink satin party dress that your mommy bought for you at the dress boutique in the Mall. I saw you wearing it this summer and was so envious of it. It must be just so dreamy to wear it. You're such a lucky girl!!!" I corrected him, "That's--BOY." She was chagrined and replied, "Oh yes, that's right. I'm sorry." (I'd gladly give my pink satin party dress to this little prissy queer, if I could , I mussed.)



The end of school bell rang. Our playpen time was just about up. I could hear kids heading for their lockers. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire." I said. Prissy Erica just smiled. As kids passed by, they held their noses and greatly berated the two of us. I started to tear up, in anticipation of the humiliating walk home we'd soon undertake. Becky and Ashley arrived and told us to climb out of the playpen. They, too, held their noses. I climbed out first, my poo squishing and sticking to my bum and butt crack and "nether" regions. Erica was next. As he climbed out, he farted loudly. "Oops!" he squealed, "I pooped my diaper." I couldn't help but wonder if he did it on purpose. He was strange enough to do that, I thought.



"Well, well, well. It looks like we now have two poopy, stinky baby girls to walk home! Put in your pacifiers and don't you dare remove them." Ashley ordered. We headed to the exit, to the sound of great laughter and taunting from the nose pinched students. I felt like a "dead man walking".

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The Braid-y Bunch--part10

Username: sissycaroline , Nov/4/2005 21:31:25 [-04][new]



As Erica and I waddled toward the exit, Ashley and Becky stopped us. They held their breath to fend off the smell and pinned tagboard signs to the front and back of our skirts that read "Warning--wet, poopy, stinky diapers". We were told to hold hands and suc-k mightily on our pacifiers and were marched outside to begin our walk. Becky and Ashley followed behind, though not too closely.



While walking, Erica smiled gaily at the jeering, taunting crowd of students that gathered to accompany us home. I held my head low in deep shame. "Head up, you poopy, stinky sissy boy!" Ashley shouted to me. I cried as I looked up into the horde of teasing kids. "Hurry home to your mommies, little girls, so they can change your diapers!"---"Phew, you sissies stink!"---"Do you pansies wear diapers to bed and sleep in cribs?"---"I'll bet those two faggots enjoy wearing poopy diapers!"---"Do your mommies have a bottle waiting for you at home?"---"What a couple of pantie waists to let that be done to them!"---"I think they must like it!"---"Who kissed you Caroline?" I still was not aware of the lipstick mark on my cheek from Erica. That remark reminded Becky to have us kiss each other.



"Stop sissies and freshen your makeup and lipstick and primp your hair." Becky ordered. We dutifully opened our purses and performed the humiliating task, though Erica, of course, didn't seem bothered by it. With our makeup freshed and hair primped, Ashley said, "Now curtsy to each other and embrace and give each other a nice, wet sissy kiss." I groaned, "Please no!" Erica chimed, "Please yes!" The crowd shouted "Sissy kissy, sissy kissy, sissy kissy" over and over. "Now!!!" shouted Becky. We curtsied and embraced and kissed, Erica using her tongue, of course.



As we reached about the half way point to our homes (Erica and I lived fairly close to each other), someone in the crowd shouted, "We want to see their diapers and pretty panties!" Ashley grinned and responded, "Well of course, what a great idea!"



With that, Ashley ordered us to stop and take off our skirts and petticoats. "No, I won't!" I screamed. "Oh yes you will, you poopy pansie, or you'll get a huge spanking across your messy bottom!" said Becky. "Someone find a branch some where to swat her with." Ashley called to the crowd. I didn't want my poo smothered butt to spanked and quickly replied, "Okay, okay."



"Then get to it, you fairy boys." ordered Ashley. With that, Erica and I removed our skirts and petticoats and handed them to our mentors. The crowd became briefly silent at the sight of the frilly panties covering our diapers. Then they roared with laughter. We finished the rest of our walk home without the benefit of our skirts and petticoats.



Erica's house was first and upon reaching it, his mother opened the front door with a smile. Her smile broadened even more when she beheld her sissy son, sans skirt and petticoat. "Oh my!" she gushed as she directed him inside. A couple of minutes later, we mercifully reached my house. My older sister Ellie and her best friend, Jessica, were waiting on the porch for me. They had purposely hurried home from their high school to see how things went on my first day back to school as a girl. They were pleasantly surprised to see my condition. "Get a load of the sissy!" I heard Ellie squeal to Jessica.



Ellie and Jessica pinched their noses as I passed them entering the house. Mom was waiting in the living room for me. "Oh God Caroline, you stink! You pathetic little sissy, you can't even control your bowels for the short time you're in school. Well, you can just spend the rest of the evening in your mess. You can clean up for bed time." Ellie and Jessica giggled. I cried.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part11

Username: sissycaroline , Nov/11/2005 01:22:06 [-04][new]



That first evening, after my first day back to school as a girl, offered me little rest or comfort from my agonizing day at junior high. Kept in my wet, poopy diapers; I suffered the mess as well as the constant teasing from Ellie and Jessica. Denied dinner, as punishment for messing myself at school, I spent most of the evening with my nose in the corner holding the back of my skirt and petticoat up, listening to the unrelenting teasing of the girls. Mom, of course, did nothing to stop them. I really didn't mind going without supper though. The day's ordeal left me with little appetite and having no dinner meant having a better chance of NOT pooping my diaper at school tomorrow. At 9:00, I was allowed to shower and return to the living room for diapering and dressing for bedtime by Ellie and Jessica.



As Jessica, the gorgeous girl of my dreams, pulled my plastic rhumba panties over my fresh diapers, she whispered softly, "My but what a brave little girl you must have been today." And she kissed me on the forehead. ("Wow," I thought, "that's the closet I'll ever get to first base with her.") My nitey was pulled over my head, a dolly was given to me and a pacifier placed in my mouth and off to bed I went.



The next morning at 7:40 AM, I was again standing at the bus stop. I was dressed like the day before, except my short pleated skirt was navy blue, as were my matching braid ribbons. And I sported frilly rhumba panties, covered in light blue lace and ruffles, over my bulging diapers. Again, my short skirt and petticoat did little to cover my diapers and frilly rhumba panties. I cringed as the bus arrived and the door opened.



My fellow riders were thrilled to see my pathetic sissy self, as was evidenced by their smiles and laughter and taunts. "Pretty panties, you pathetic poopy pantywaist! Hope you poop them today too." called one boy , as he lifted up my skirt and petticoat. I waddled toward the back of the bus, where Erica and Denise and our mentors awaited. "Remember sissies," Ashley reminded, "When we get to school, you three are to quickly report to the main entrance to curtsy and greet students as they arrive. And I better hear cheery greetings and see big, girlish smiles on your adorable sissy faces."



Upon arrival at school, our mentors hurried us into positions at the main entrance to do our humiliating greeting. I foolishly asked Ashley, "Do I have to curtsy?" She sarcastically answered, "Well, of course you DON'T have to curtsy Sweetie. Not if you DON'T want to. You can do something else!" With that, she faced me to her, looked around to assure no teachers were nearby, and ordered me to hold the front of my skirt and petticoat up. I cried, "Please no!" She grinned and said "Now sissy boy!" I knew better than to disobey. With my skirt and petticoat front held up, Ashley pulled my diapers and rhumba panties down and secured them just under my balls. My ***** became immediately very erect and quite visible to all.



Again, she looked around to see that no adults were nearby and told me, "Instead of curtsying, you are to hold your dress and petticoat up and play with yourself as students pass by." She continued, "Instead of saying good morning, you are to say I LOVE, EVER SO MUCH, BEING A PRETTY SCHOOL GIRL." Ashley added, "And that little girly wiener of yours better be very stiff at all times! Got it Sissy? If a teacher approaches, you are to quickly stop and drop your skirt." As I cried, Megan, Denise's mentor, said "Get pumping, you little pansy!" I started this most degrading act as I heard Erica ask Becky, his mentor, "Can I do it too, pwetty pwease?" Becky admonished her with, "No, it's not meant for fun you sicko!"



I spent the next ten minutes, poised between the curtsying Erica and Denise, reciting my degrading verse while playing with myself. I sobbed and listened to all the taunts of the students, most of which were directed to me, the masturbating sissy boy. "What a sissy pervert!" was heard the most. And I was that.



As the last of the arriving students came, Ashley had one more humiliation in store. "Now sissy boy, pump hard and squirt your little girly juices!" I was abhorred, "No, I won't." A swat to my rear was followed by "Do it yourself or I'll let Erica suc-k you off!" Erica gushed, "Oh, can I, can I, pwetty pwease?" I wasn't about to let that happen and pumped away and squirted my c-um onto the floor. Ashley then told me to take some tissues from my purse and clean up the mess. I was exhausted but did it. My skirt and petticoat was restored, though my pride would never be, and off to first period we sissies sashayed and waddled. I was sweating profusely.

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The second day of school was much the same as the first, with three exceptions. The first exception was a positive one--none of us three sissies wet or pooped our diapers. The second exception was not a positive one--we seemed to be subjected to even more taunting and teasing than the day before. Apparently, kids who hadn't had the opportunity to see us (and tease us) after the assembly yesterday scrambled to see the three pathetic sissy boys prancing through the halls dressed as school girls. Everywhere we went, we were followed by a larger throng of jeering kids who seemed to especially want to see our diapered and pantied bottoms, which our TORmentors made us display at every request. We had to bend over and lift our skirts and petticoats and wiggle our fannies whenever some asked to see our diapers. Because of this increased attention, our mentors also made us do even more kissing and curtsying and primping and makeup refreshing than yesterday. The third exception was, especially, not a positive one--we had physical education the last period. Had I known what would transpire in phys. ed. class, I might have, purposely, wet and pooped my diapers to be made to sit in the play pen in the hall instead. That might have been better than the humiliation in phys. ed.



As we arrived at the girl's gymnasium, the phys. ed. teacher, Ms. Cooper, directed Erica, Denise and me into her office. Ms. Cooper was rather "butch" in appearance, probably in her late twenties or early thirties, and rumored to be a lesbian. She also seemed to have absolutely no pity for the three sissy girly boys she was confronting. "You pansies will have to change in here, you can't change in the girl's locker room or shower with them. You also can't wear the standard girl's gym outfit of shorts and a top. No shorts would fit over your pathetic bulging bottoms. But, luckily for you little darlings, I have some cute gymslips for you to wear!" And she smiled widely and held one up before us. It was, basically, a short, pink pleated skirt with a kind of bib front that had pink cloth straps attached that connected to the waist of the back of the skirt. A simple, white tee shirt was to be worn under it. These "gymslips" had, obviously, been especially prepared for us. Ms. Cooper sneered at us and continued, "Now, girlies, strip to nothing but your bras and diapers with those gorgeous panties."



She supervised us as we undressed. We donned our simple, white tee shirts only to discover that they weren't quite that simple. To our horror, on the front just below the neck line was an embroidered word in pink. That word was SISSYBOY. Next, the gymslips were placed on us. The very short pleated skirts covered our panties only about halfway down, even shorter than our school skirts. "Sorry girls, but you won't be able to wear your adorable petticoats that I know you love so much." Ms. Cooper taunted. With our gymslips in place, we were given pink short socks with pom poms around the ankle tops and pink, low cut sneakers to wear. "These will be your gym outfits for the year. Aren't they darling? Now run along to the gym sweeties!"



As we waddled to the gym, I couldn't help but notice how much our diapers bulged under our unpetticoated skirts and how much our rhumba panties showed from beneath them. Entering the gym, the girls, who were busy playing makeshift games of volleyball at the nets, stopped and rushed to us gushing about how "precious" we looked. Becky, Ashley and Megan, our mentors, directed us to join in the volleyball games. We knew better than to disobey and spent the next few minutes playing, with our skirts bouncing up and down when we ran or jumped. The girls appreciated our humiliating pantie displays and rewarded us with much laughter and teasing. Ms. Cooper finally entered the gym and called us all to gather around her and be seated.



She began. "Our first unit in phys. ed. is gymnastics and the first thing you will learn is how to stand on your head. It's really quite simple to do. I'll show you." And she knelt on a mat and placed the top of her head on it with the palms of her hands angled in front of her about six inches from her face. "This is like an airplane making a three point landing." she explained. She then lifted her legs up vertically and made a perfect head stand. Still in her head stand, she said, "Of course, you girls will probably need someone to spot you or support you when you try." She came back down and stood. "I need three volunteers to be spotters and three to try standing on their heads." Many hands, including our mentors' and Erica's, were enthusiastically raised. Denise and I certainly didn't raise our hands. "Ashley, Megan and Becky--you be spotters." Ms. Cooper then grinned devilishly, "And you three can pick who will try head standing." Well daaaaa! It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out who they'd choose. A minute later, Denise, Erica and I were poised in perfect headstands, supported by our mentors, our diapers and rhumba panties fully displayed for everyone to laugh and giggle at. We were kept in that humiliating position for a couple of minutes of teasing by the class. Ms. Cooper finally allowed us to come down and said to us, "Let that be a lesson to you sissy boys--I mean, in head standing, of course." And she giggled. Red faced from the head standing and the humiliation, we sat down as others tried. Finally the class ended and we held hands and went to Ms. Cooper's office and changed. We didn't shower. We didn't care. We waited for our mentors to shower and change and escort us to our lockers and the bus for home. Our gymnastic exploits were the talk of the bus. "Those sissy faggots were really pretty good at head standing. Maybe they should try out for cheer leading. They'd look so cute in cheer leading skirts and sweaters." I heard a girl in the seat in front of us say to her companion. Our mentors heard them too and grinned.

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The Braid-y Bunch--part13

Username: sissycaroline , Nov/14/2005 08:21:38 [-04][new]



6:30 AM, school day three dawned wet, cold and rainy. I was wakened to the sound of my mother's call as she entered my room. "Good morning Sweetie, time to get up." she said as she stood at my bedside and slipped her hand into my diapers to discover I was dry and clean. "Good girl, you don't need a diaper change for school. Just put on your white rhumba panties and get dressed. Your outfit is laid out for you. Then do your makeup and lipstick but don't do your hair. I'll remove your rollers and braid your hair this morning." I was still required, most nights, to set my hair in pink rollers and cover it with a hair net. Curls in my hair was never the intent, as no kind of setting gel or even water was ever used and, my hair would only be braided most times anyways. The aim was to just have me experience the very girlish sensation of setting my hair and wearing rollers through the night.



I slipped on my rhumba panties over my still clean double diapers, fastened and tissue stuffed my bra and got dressed. My skirt was a pleated, short beige one and was flared with my petticoat underneath. My top was a cream colored, short sleeved, light weight sweater type of top. Vanilla colored knee socks and my black, patent leather Maryjanes completed my attire for the day. I did my makeup and lipstick. Sadly, I had become very adept at all these girlish tasks. I touched up my pink nails, put in my gold heart earrings and set off for mom's room for my braiding. I wondered why she was going to braid my hair because, also sadly, I had become quite adept at that girlish chore too.



Seated at her dressing table, she removed my hairnet and rollers and set to task parting and braiding my hair. As she neared the end of my second braid, she smiled and said, "You know Caroline, I'm now so glad you disobeyed me and didn't get your hair cut last June. If you had, I wouldn't have a pretty, little daughter now to dress and braid. And I know you're as glad about it as I am." I didn't respond to that last absurd comment. It would have been meaningless to mom.



With my second braid done, mom didn't attach ribbons to the ends like normal. Instead, she cut two lengths of white yarn and said, "Your braids must be a good three inches longer than they were in June. Let's do something a little creative with them for a change." I didn't like the sound of that.



Mom took one braid end and looped it up and behind the beginning of that braid in my scalp and told me to hold it there. Then, she took a piece of white yarn and tied the loop very tightly and securely in place with a double knot. She did the same with the other braid. I groaned. "Oh hush, Buttercup. You'll look adorable." mom scolded. Large, almost over-sized white satin ribbon bows were tied where the loops had been joined. Spritzed next with a girly spray perfume, mom sent me to the kitchen for breakfast. I hated these braid loops. They, somehow, seemed even more sissyish than my normal braids. The satiny white bows perched just behind each ear top, with their long ribbons dangling down, tickled my ears and neck. The braid loops bounced and swung back and forth with every head movement. They seemed to have a life of their own. I was much more acutely aware of them than my normal braids. I was sure mom was also "acutely" aware of this too. Hence, the new braid look! I remembered disliking pigtails, which I had worn a few times, for these same reasons.



When I reached the kitchen, Ellie was eating cereal at the breakfast table. "Love the braid loops, sissy brother! They're cute." she mumbled through a mouthful of Fruit Loops. "Yeah, right!" I replied. "At least, kids seated behind you in class may be less tempted to play with your braids." she laughed. She had a point, though not a good enough one to make me be happy about my braid loops. As she spooned her Fruit Loops into her mouth, something dawned on her and she giggled and passed the box of cereal to me. "Have some FRUIT LOOPS sissy. A perfect breakfast for you Caroline. After all, you're a FRUIT with LOOPS in his hair. How ironic!" Ellie was well pleased with her pun. I wasn't, despite its cleverness. Unfortunately though, I knew her quip was correct. I, certainly not by choice but none the less, WAS a fruit with loops in his hair. Mom had overheard this and scolded Ellie, "Leave your little sister alone. She looks precious."



Outside, the rain was falling heavily. When I finished my breakfast, mother had me get ready for the bus. At the doorway, she said, "Caroline, it's really raining hard and is supposed to all day." With that, she went to the hall closet and produced a pink, very little girlish hooded raincoat and matching pink galoshes and umbrella. I groaned as she fitted the galoshes over my maryjanes and buckled the raincoat over my skirt and top. "Oh mom, do I have to wear this?" I sobbed. "Of course silly girl! It's pouring out there. Can't get your hair and outfit wet." And she pulled the hood over my braid looped head. The pink umbrella was opened, my purse and book bag given me, and out the door I trudged. As I left, I heard Ellie call, "Have a good day at school, FRUIT LOOPS!!!!"



Five minutes later, I arrived at the bus stop, moments before it pulled up. The door opened and I started to climb up the three steps. "Stop Sweetie," called the driver, "Gotta close your pretty, pink umbrella little girl!" I did so and started down the aisle to Erica, Denise and our mentors. Erica and Denise were, very similarly to me, wearing pink, hooded raincoats. I purposely left my hood up, as I was not eager to show off my new braid loops. When we reached school and stood at ours lockers to remove our rain gear, our TORmentors squealed in delight at the sight of the braid loops and huge ribbon bows now adorning my uncovered head. "Oh Caroline, you look so pretty in braid loops. I absolutely love them! So little girlish." Ashley gushed as she tweaked them. I didn't appreciate her compliment.



As we made our way to the main entrance to perform our humiliating greetings, Erica asked Ashley, "Is Caroline gonna be waving his girly wiener to the kids. If he is, can I, pwetty pwease suc-k..." Ashley quickly cut him off. "Shut up, you pervert faggot, no you can't and no, he won't be." I was very glad to hear this. "But, you know, that does give me an idea." Ashley said, "Instead of curtsying to the students Caroline, I want you to wave your braid loops in greeting to them." For the next ten minutes I bid the students a good morning, as I waved hello with my braid loops. Many horrible comments were made along with the laughter of course, but the worst and most surprising comment came from a seventh grade girl. "Love your new look, FRUIT LOOPS!"



The morning bell rang, signalling the start of classes. The day went by, no better and perhaps a little worse due to my new hairdo, until after lunch when we headed for home economics class. As we entered the class, I felt the rumblings of a needed visit to the bathroom, which of course was out of the question for me. I hadn't relieved myself in almost a day I realized. Erica and Denise and I were humiliatingly stripped of our skirts, petticoats and tops so more accurate measurements could be taken by the girls for the party dresses they were to make for us for the Fall dance. Standing in just our bras and diapers and rhumba panties and socks and maryjanes, measuring tapes snaked around and all over us. It was quite embarrassing. As the measuring went on, I fought off the urge of mother nature. But before too long, I lost the battle and wet my diaper and then thoroughly pooped it. The girls measuring me immediately smelled what I had done and gasped and backed away. "Pew, you smell Caroline. Did you mess your diapers?" asked one of the girls measuring me. "Caroline, do you need to ask me something?" inquired our teacher. "May I please go to the nurse for a diaper change?" I asked. The class roared with laughter. "Yes you may Caroline, but not for a diaper change, but to get some diapers to bring back here to class for US to change you into." She continued, "Child and baby care is part of this course and you afford us the perfect opportunity for the class to learn how to change a baby's messy diapers. Run along baby and get some disposables."



A few minutes later, I forlornly returned with two Depends in hand. The teacher placed a diaper mat on a table. She signaled me to, "Climb on, butt down." She called the class to gather around and then pulled off my rhumba panties and untaped my disposable diapers. "Watch carefully girls and I don't want any comments about how gross it is. Little babies can't help it." she admonished. She opened the front of my diapers and washed my wiener and ******, thoroughly, with sudsy, warm water. This caused an immediate erection and the girls giggled. Some girls, more chasted than others, looked away. Erica immediately started to ask, "Can I, pweety pwease, suc-k.." but was quickly cut off again by Ashley. "Shut up Erica!" With my front cleaned, the teacher told me to arch my back and then removed the soiled diapers from underneath me. Several girls couldn't help but moan and held their noses. With the diaper removed, I was placed on my front and my poopy bottom and crack was thoroughly cleaned. "Clean as a whistle! Now girls, diaper ointment is essential to prevent diaper rash." And she covered my bum with the greasy goo. Lastly, my behind was well baby powdered, as well as my front, and new diapers were taped around me. With rhumbas restored, I was done. I was so horribly embarrassed. I had been changed before, many times of course, by mom and Ellie and Jessica. But I had done the messy, stinky cleanup part myself in the shower. Now I had been cleaned and diapered in front of a whole class of my ***rs. I cried miserably from the enormous shame I felt. How could I ever face these girls again???????? As the class was nearing the end, mine and Erica's and Denise's outfits were placed back on us. We held hands and exited the room, my head hung low in bitter shame and embarrassment. The class was, surprisingly and pleasantly, very hushed.

[BetBots]

School day four came, followed by day five, then week one, followed by week two and so on; and soon it was mid October. The torturous sissy humiliations for Erica, Denise and me, of course, continued "full throttle". The gymnastics unit in phys. ed. afforded a lot of diaper and pantie displays thanks to lots of cartwheels, trampoline jumping, head standing, vaulting and balance beam walking. I was particularly good at these things, a fact that I knew would come back to bite me. Wet and poopy diaper changes happened for us fairly routinely, but fortunately I was able to refrain from messing myself in home economics class and thus avoided the humiliation of being changed by the girls in the class. Erica, on the other hand, almost always seemed to choose that time to mess his diapers. He, obviously, liked being changed by the girls. He was such a fruit! Speaking of which, my mother almost always had me wear braid loops, as a rule, and I was now, quite regularly, referred to by my nickname "Fruit Loops". Denise's long braids were now usually looped too.



The Fall Harvest dance was just two weeks away and the home economics class was well under way in creating sissy dresses for us to wear to it. Three identical lavish concoctions were decided upon----one in bubble gum pink, one in powder blue and one in lemon yellow. Erica begged for the pink one and his girlish wish was granted. Denise's was to be the blue one and mine, the lemon yellow. We spent countless classes having them sewn and fitted to us. They were really quite elaborate, more than just party dresses, and more like the ultra frilly pageant dresses that little girls wore in beauty pageant competitions. Very embellished affairs with beaded and embroidered bodices, tons of lace and ruffles and ribbons and bows and very full, to allow lots of petticoats. And VERY short. I cringed at the thought of what would be displayed underneath them, which I knew would be equally frilly matching rhumba panties covering thick diapers.



One week before the dance, our hideous pageant dresses were completed. Three days before the dance, our equally hideous matching rhumbas were done. Two days before dance time, we modeled them to the home economics class. Our very full skirts were supported by mountains of white, stiff net petticoats and matching lace anklets and patent leather, strapped Maryjanes with three inch heels adorned our feet. Our behinds were well displayed. The teacher and class was well satisfied with their work. I was WELL----sick with the thought of having to appear at the Harvest Dance so attired. I just stood there and cried as the girls gushed over how pretty we three sissy boys looked. With class nearing the end, our outfits were removed and carefully folded and bagged for us to take home at school's end to show our families and to come dressed in on Friday evening at the Harvest Dance. I prayed a severe earthquake or some other such calamity of nature would happen and cause the cancellation of the dance. Of course, I knew the chances of this happening were very slim.



Friday came ever too quickly and mom and Ellie and Jessica got an early start in preparing me for the dance. They began as soon as I got home from school. They marveled at the ultra sissy, frilly dress and rhumbas and anklets and Maryjanes. They decided they would bathe me themselves and did so in a very scented bubble bath and meticulously shaved every hair on my body. My hair was washed and conditioned and braid looped, of course. It was now time to get dressed.