Camp Sissy Curls

[sissycaroline]

Stephen yawned as he lay on his bed, the afternoon sun peeking through the window blinds. He was contemplating the just begun summer vacation. Two months of no school! Stephen was thrilled at the thought but also a little skeptical. How would he occupy his time and keep from getting bored, like he already was? He would soon turn thirteen and would be entering 8th grade in the Fall. He was a bit of a loner and didn't have a lot of friends to hang around with. He was small and slight for his age and due to that, was not good at, nor had little interest in, sports.

Stephen's family, as it was, would be of little help in making for an enjoyable and fun summer. Dad had left last week for various cities in Europe on business and would be gone the entire summer. He ran an import/export business. That left him stuck with his step mother (his real mom had died in a car accident two years prior) and his eight year old step sister, Laura; neither of whom he cared particularly for. And they felt the same way about him.

"Stephen Crandall, come downstairs please. I have something to tell you." his step mom called. He winced and headed downstairs to the kitchen where she and Laura were busy baking some cookies.

"What?" he growled as he entered the kitchen.

"Oh don't be such a grouch Stephen, I've got good news for you. I've made arrangements for you to spend the summer at a camp for boys about an hours drive from here. Swimming, horseback riding, hiking, crafts, archery, sports---all that sort of stuff. You'll have a lot of fun!" she gushed. "We'll take you there tomorrow morning."

"What's the name of the camp?" I asked, wondering if I might have heard of it.

"Camp SC", she replied, "and before you ask, I'm not exactly sure what SC stands for. I think it has something to do with a nickname of its founder and owner. But I know you'll have a lot of fun there." She gave me a slightly devious smile as Laura chuckled in the background.

"I think SC stands for SUPER COOL or maybe STEPHEN CRANDALL!" Laura bubbled with a mischievious smirk on her face.

Minutes later, as I lay on my bed again, I thought "Well, at least, I'll not have to spend the summer with them!"

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part 2



Early the next morning, my stepmother and stepsister and I made the hour drive to camp. As we drove, I thought about how lightly my stepmother had had me pack for camp. "You don't need to pack a lot of clothes Stephen. I've set up an account with the camp and when you need more clothes, they can be purchased at the camp store or in the nearby town." she'd said. It seemed a bit odd to me but I was glad for the opportunity to buy new clothes.



When we arrived at and headed into the camp, I was struck by the fact that there seemed to be a lot of girls around and not a lot of boys. We pulled up to the administration building, got out and were immediately met by a very pretty girl, probably about 16 years old. Long blond hair tied in a perky ponytail at the top of her head, shorty shorts with legs that went on forever and a gorgeous figure. A real "Babe" I thought.



"Hi, you must be Stephen. Welcome to the camp. My name's Lisa," she gushed.



"Are we in the right place? Is this the boys camp becuase I see so many girls around." I asked.



She smiled, "Oh, definitely. You see, there's a girls camp just next door over that meadow, Camp Sunnyvale, and there's a lot of interaction between the two camps. In fact, I'm from Camp Sunnyvale but I'm also an administrative intern here at the boys camp. It pays for my stay at camp. Come on, grab your bag, say goodbye to your mom and sister and come with me."



My stepmother told me they'd be up to visit next weekend probably. "Enjoy yourself Stephen.  You'll be a whole new person by the end of the summer."



What did she mean by that, I thought. Lisa then took my hand, almost as if I were a small child, and walked me into the building. Strange as holding my hand seemed, I was glad to have any kind of physical contact with this cute girl.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part3



Lisa walked me into a small office, went to  a shelf and took a T-shirt from it. "Here, it's a size small which looks about right for you. It's the official camp T-shirt. You can take it into the next room and put it on."



It appeared to be a simple white shirt with some kind of lettering across the front. I took it into the next room, removed my shirt, and just as I was starting to pull it over my head, in walked Lisa.



"You all set there sport?" she asked.  



It was then that I noticed that across the front of it, it said in large pink letters---CAMP SISSY CURLS.



"What the hell is this?" I gasped. "What is CAMP SISSY CURLS? I can't wear this."



"Oh silly boy, that's the name of this camp. It's what SC stands for. It was the nickname of the founder of this camp, who when he was a boy, had long, curly hair. And the kids teased him and called him Sissy Curls. And, of course, the fact that his mother often tied ribbons in his hair didn't help his situation either. All the campers wear it.  Please put it on for me!" she said coquettishly with a smile.



It all sounded so very odd but I did as I was asked, not wanting to displease this extremely cute girl that I already had a crush on.



Lisa continued, "Just what do you know about this camp? What did your stepmother tell you about it?"



"That it's a boys camp---swimming, hiking, canoeing, archery, crafts, sports---the usual, regular stuff."



"Well, yeah, it's all that but there's a lot more to it. But you'll learn all that very soon enough. Come with me please. We have to do something with your hair." She took my hand again and walked me into another room.



The room appeared to be a small hair salon, not a barber shop like I would expect, but really a beauty parlor. My hair was long and straight and reached just down past my shoulders. I hadn't had it cut in a long, long time and fiqured I was gonna be given a buzz cut for the summer, which would be okay with me.



A matronly, middle aged woman greeted me from behind a styling chair. "Hi Stephen, I'm Miss Baldwin, the camp beautician. My but you have a lovely, long, full head of hair. Come have a seat please."



Beautician, I thought----that's weird. I sat down and she placed a large, pink plastic cape around me. She combed hair down across my forehead and began to cut deep, straight bangs across it.



"What are you doing?" I gasped.



"Oh, relax Sweetie, just want to give you some cute bangs before you get your permanent."



"PERMANENT-----are you crazy!!!" I cried.



"Stephen, all new campers are given a permanent, if they are lucky enough to have long hair like you. If not, they have to wear a wig." And she pointed to a shelf of wigs that looked like something out of a Shirley Temple movie. "Now sit still," she admonished, "you'll soon have a cute head full of pretty, little girlish ringlets and sausge curls!"



She turned away from me to get a comb. I have to get out off this insane place I thought. I immediately ripped off the cape and bolted for the door only to have it blocked by Lisa, who grabbed me and held me until Miss Baldwin could take control of me. Being small for my age, the two of them had little trouble in dragging me to a chair, where Miss Baldwin seated herself and put me over her knee. She pulled down my blue jeans and underpants and my bare behind was exposed, which was especially humiliating with Lisa watching.



"My, but what a cute little girlie bum you have Stephen!" she laughed. "You're gonna learn an important lesson in obeying here at camp now." She asked Lisa for a hairbrush which she gladly gave her with a devilish smile. "Your little girlie bum will be even cuter when it's nice and cherry red," Miss Bladwin added as she proceeded to spank the "living daylights" out of me. I was crying uncontrollably.



After what had to have been at least 20 hard whacks, she stopped and asked if I was ready now for my permanent.



"Yes," I sobbed.



"Yes what!!!," she yelled as she gave my fanny another whack.



"Yes please???" I said.



"Yes please what!!!" as another whack crossed my bottom.



"Please give me a pretty, little girl permanent so I can have nice, pretty ringlets and sausage curls." I had really embellished this last answer in the hopes it would satisfy her and end my spanking. And it worked. She stopped.



I was stood up and my underpants and blue jeans were pulled up, but not before Lisa got a good look at my stiff, little "thing".



"Boy, he sure is small down there!" she commented. And I groaned with humiliation.



As I was walked back to the styling chair, Lisa taunted, "Stephen had a little stiffy!" And with that said, she gave my behind a very hard, biting pinch. It surprised me and hurt a lot and combined with all I had just gone through, it actually caused me to wet my pants.



"Well, well, well, it looks like we have a little Miss Puddle Pants here. Take him to the nursery Lisa and I'll be there in a moment to take care of him before he gets his permanent." Miss Baldwin exclaimed.



I sobbed with shame and embarrassment.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part4



Lisa held my hand and walked me to the nursery. Upon entering, the first thing that caught my attention was the awful smell of what had to be wet and poopy diapers. We were met immediately by another girl, probably about the same age as Lisa and equally as pretty.



"Hi Lisa, looks like someone had an accident," she said as I stared at the floor in absolute humiliation.



"Yup, this in Stephen, a brand new camper, and he has a lot to learn about behaving at camp. Miss Baldwin said she'd come in and sort him out in a minute so you don't have to perform your apprentice Nanny duties on him. You get a bit of a break Sarah!" Lisa told her.



"Great, I have my hands full with all these other sissy babies." smiled Sarah.



"Sarah's a friend of mine from Camp Sunnyvale and interns here as a Nanny." Lisa explained to me. "Look around and see what happens to boys who don't behave at camp and what's in store for you if you don't tow the line."



I looked around the room in sheer horror. It was filled with oversized baby furnishings---cribs, playpens, high chairs, bassinettes, changing tables and even strollers. Even more horrifying was that a lot of this baby furniture held oversized little baby girls who I now reallized had to really be boys. Each "baby girl" was dressed in a lavishly frilled short baby dress with voluminous petticoats underneath. Their dresses were so short that their bulbous, lacy underpants (which I was later to learn were called "rhumba panties") was easily seen. I assumed their underpants were so thick due to having diapers underneath them. Each baby girl's head was adorned with a frilly baby bonnet (bouncy ringlets and sausage curls peeking out from underneath), their feet in lace trimmed socks, and each suc-ked away on a pacifier or baby bottle or their thumb--well, except for the one who was seated in a high chair being spoon fed baby food. Another poor soul was being placed on a changing table and soon his soiled, wet diapers were removed to recive a changing.



My horror at all this was quickly interrupted by the sound of Miss Baldwin's voice. "Come along Little Miss Puddle Pants and we'll get you squared away."



I was made to take ALL my clothes off in front of everyone and told to throw them, except for my camp T-shirt,  in a garbage bin nearby. "Won't need those anymore Stephen!" Miss Baldwin chided.



I was crying profusely as I was led to a bubble filled bath tub to get "squeaky clean and smelling pretty" as Miss Baldwin said. Miss Baldwin, with Lisa's help, gave me a good scrubbing and also washed my hair in preperation for my permanent. After being bathed and dried, I was led naked to a changing table and made to lie face up on it. Despite my degradtion, my little "Willy" was saluting mightily and caused a lot of giggling from Lisa and Sarah. I wanted to die from the embarrassment. I considered bolting for the door again but knew it would be fruitless. I'd only wind up like the "baby girls" around me.



"As long as we have him here and clean and naked, we might as well take care of the little bit of body hair he has." suggested Miss Baldwin.



Lisa and Miss Baldwin meticulously applied some kind of creamy, stinging lotion to every, and I do mean EVERY, knook and cranny of my body. It was awful to have every private part of my body so invaded. After a short while, when the lotion had done its job, they used towels to wipe it off leaving my entire body, except for my head, totally and completely hairless.



"Perfect. Just like a newborn baby! We'll pluck and shape his eyebrows later while his permanent is setting. Will you finish him up and bring him back to the salon when you're done Lisa?" Miss Baldwin said.



Oh God, I thought, what did "finish him up" involve and, of course, I soon found out.



Lisa took some baby powder and sprinkled me all over and placed an extremely thick, many layered cloth diaper under my bum and pinned it tightly in place with pink capped diaper pins.



"Please, noooooooo, please." I begged but to no avail.



"Hey, you wet your pants so, obviously you need diapers!" she scolded as she pulled pink, transparent plastic diaper pants over my diaper.



My camp T-shirt was placed back on me. Lisa took my hand and led me, waddling from the thickness encasing my groin, back to the salon for my permanent.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part5



Miss Baldwin was eagerly waiting for me back at the salon.



"I trust you're now ready for your permanent Stephen!" she said.



"Yes," I groaned.



"Yes what?" she snarled.



I knew what she meant. "Yes-- please will you give me a permanent so I can have nice, pretty ringlets and sausage curls?"



"Very good sissy boy," and she set to work on my hair. The pink plastic cape was fastened and she finished cutting deep, straight girlish bangs across my forehead. She then wet my hair thoroughly and proceeded to tightly wind pink curling rods and papers into my hair. Lisa assisted. The tightly wound rods hurt very much and I winced as each one was attached to my head. After what seemed to be an eternity, my head was completely covered in rods. I guessed close to a hundred of them. A bottle of setting lotion was opened, its offensive "rotten eggs" smell filling the room. They carefully applied the lotion to each rod. In the mirror I could see all that was being done.



When the last rod was saturated with the fowl lotion, I saw in the mirror how the curling rods glistened from it. I cried. I looked like such a sissy and surely felt like one too--an almost thirteen year old boy in diapers and pink plastic diaper pants getting an old fashioned little girl permanent. It was unbearable.



"We'll leave the lotion on for 45 minutes to give him nice and tight and bouncy curls and then apply the neutralizer," she told Lisa, "and in the meantime, we'll pluck and tweeze his eyebrows."



As they worked on my eyebrows, Lisa told me, "Don't be so sad Stephen. Like Miss Baldwin told you earlier, you're lucky to have hair long enough for a permanent. Otherwise you'd have to wear a wig and they're not nearly so pretty as your real curls will be. Besides, wigs are a nuisance and are hot and itchy to wear, especially in the summer. I'll teach you how to set your hair in rollers because your curls will need to be set each night before bedtime to maintain their bounce and shape. That's really the only downside to it."



Oh dear God I thought. Now I'm going to have to set my hair each night and sleep in rollers. Could I be more girlish?



Forty five minutes later, my eyebrows were done----arched into thin girlish curves. The neutalizer was applied and I was placed under a hairdryer and spent the next half hour eating the tuna sandwich and sipping the Coke they'd given me and reading "American Girl" magazines, as Miss Baldwin had told me to do.



When my perm was dry, they took me to a hair washing station and gently shampooed it with a mild shampoo meant for permed hair. Then I was taken back to the chair where I had been permed and they gently used a hand dryer to redry and style my "tresses" (their word). My hair still smelled of the perm lotion. I was told it would take a few days for the smell to totally go away. They had turned me away from the mirror though, so I couldn't see what was going on. With styling done, Miss Baldwin produced two pink hair barrettes which she clipped just behind my bangs on each side of my head. As a final humiliation, I saw her take a large piece of pink satin ribbon and I shuddered as I felt her tying in a large bow at the crown of my head.



"Are you ready Sweetie to see your pretty new look?" Miss Baldwin chimed.



With that, she turned me toward the mirror.  I was looking at the face of a very prissy little girl with a head full of gleaming and beautifully curled ringlets and sausage curls crowned with a huge floppy pink ribbon bow on top and matching pink barrettes. Tears streamed down my face and I prayed the ground would open and swallow me up. The curls bounced and bobbed with the slightest movement of my head. Now I looked like I belonged at a camp called "Camp Sissy Curls".

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part6



"Okay Lisa, pretty boy is all yours now," laughed Miss Baldwin as she removed the pink cape from me.



"Come on Stephen, the director of the camp is expecting you in her office. Let's go." And Lisa took my hand.



As we left, I noticed the time on a clock on the wall. It was a little after 5 PM. I'd only been here since early morning yet it seemed like I'd been here for an eternity. As we entered the director's office, I felt so incredibly ashamed and humiliated to be standing there in ribbons and curls and diapers. I shamefully hung my ringletted head as the middle aged woman spoke.



"Hello Stephen, my name is Ms. Roberts and I'm the director of this special camp for boys. My late father founded this camp some years back. It's my pleasure to welcome you here. Please sit down."



I seated myself in the chair in front of her desk, not raising my shamefully hung head, and said nothing.



"I understand your stepmother has told you little about the purpose of this camp but that will become quite evident to you very soon, if it hasn't already. I can only assume that you must be a very ill-behaved young man to be sent here. But we'll correct that."



I really wasn't a bad kid I thought. My stepmother just never really liked me or liked having me around and I felt the same way about her.



Ms. Roberts continued, "Now Lisa is going to take you into town to purchase something."



I gasped at the thought of being seen in public in my current state. Afterall, I was wearing only a diaper, pink plastic diaper pants, the camp T-shirt and, of course, my ribbons and curls.



"The purpose of this trip is to teach you two very important lessons and when you return, I'll see if you can tell me what they are. But you can't go into town looking like that."



Thank God, I thought as she went to a closet and produced the small suitcase of clothes I had brought to camp. She sorted through it and took out a tan pair of slacks of mine, brown socks, a belt and my brown loafers.



"Here, put them on over your diaper and tuck your T-shirt in."



I had hoped to be relieved of the diaper and "Camp Sissy Curls" T-shirt but that was not about to happen. But at least my shameful diaper would be hidden. As I pulled up my pants and fastened the belt, I was horrified to discover that the thick diaper created a huge bulge in my pants that was quite noticeable. And, of course, nothing would hide my "Shirley Templed" head.



"Please Ms. Roberts, the pants don't hide my diaper." I sobbed.



"Then you can take them off and just wear your diaper and pretty pink diapers pants to town if you prefer." she scoffed.



She had me caught between a rock and a hard place. I put my socks and loafers on and Lisa took me out to the waiting camp shuttle bus for the ride into town. Sarah was there to make the trip with us. The driver chuckled as we boarded.



"Headed for the Mall GIRLS?" he sniggered.



 "Yes please. Stephen here needs to buy something." Lisa replied.



We seated ourselves and I was glad that we were the only ones on the bus.



Lisa handed me a twenty dollar bill and said, "There's a Rite-Aid at the end of the Mall. You're to go in there and buy a package of Depends Adult diapers--size small should fit you nicely."



"Oh God no," I pleaded, "How long am I gonna be kept in diapers?"



Sarah answered, "Well, I guess that 'DEPENDS' on you and how well you behave and how long you stay dry Stephen."



I was shaking in fear at the humiliation and embarrassment I was about to experience. As we neared the Mall, Lisa told the driver to drop us off at the far end of it.



"Please pick us up here in an hour." she told the driver as we exited the bus.



Lisa took my hand and Sarah took the other and walked me into the packed Mall. I kept my head hung low, my ringlets and sausage curls dangling about my face.



"Rite Aid's at the other end of the Mall." she chuckled. "But I'm thirsty. Let's get a soda somewhere. We have plenty of time."



I kept my eyes closed as much as I could as we walked (well--me waddling from the thick diaper) to the Food Court for a drink. All around me I heard laughing and giggling and tormenting, biting comments about the "sissy boy" in diapers and ribbons and curls. The "Camp Sissy Curls" T-shirt said it all.



We got our drinks and I suc-ked the straw as I was paraded through the Mall toward the other end where Rite-Aid was. I continued to keep my eyes closed and wished I could plug my ears so I wouldn't hear the bombardment of taunting and teasing and jeering and laughter as shoppers beheld me. I also received many compliments, though meant sarcastically,  about how pretty my hair-do was.



It was all so awful and I was so scared that, without even reallizing it, I found myself wetting my diaper. I tried to stop the flow but I couldn't. I prayed the diaper and plastic pants would contain all the wetness. But before long, to my absolute horrror, a large wet spot started to appear on the front of my slacks. Now everyone could see that I had a wet diaper. I was bawling my eyes out.



Passers-by were even more shocked now at the sight of the be-curled, be-ribboned sissy boy who had now wet his diaper.



By the time we reached Rite-Aid, the front of my pants were soaked. Sarah and Lisa let go of my hands.



Lisa told me, "You're to go in and purchase your Depends by yourself."



I had to open my eyes and pleaded, "Please don't make me do this!" But it fell on deaf ears. I pathetically trudged inside and searched the aisles for adult diapers. Thankfully, I spotted what I needed quickly and took the package of Depends size small to the counter to pay for them. All around me, shoppers gasped and laughed at the sight of me.



The clerk behind the check-out giggled as I paid and remarked, "I can sure see why you need these sissy boy!"



She handed me the change and receipt. I asked her if she could put my purchase in a bag.



"Sorry Sweetie Pie but we're outta bags big enough to put them in."



My hopes to at least have the dignity of having my purchase concealed were dashed.



With my very visible and obviously much needed Depends in hand, I left the store and was escorted by Sarah and Lisa back through the Mall toward the other end where the bus was to be waiting. Lisa and Sarah didn't hold my hands this time. They had reallized that if they didn't, I'd have to keep my eyes open to see where I was going and would have to take in all the "visual" horror of my humiliation.



My shame was unbearable, my humilation unrelenting and my tears were unstoppable.



As we reached the Mall exit where the bus was indeed waiting, I was given one last crushing comment from a very pretty little girl who was entering with her mother.



"Look mommy! Why does that boy have pretty curls and ribbons like me? And he's wet himself!"



"Hurry along Jenny and mind your own business," was the mother's quick reply.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part7

I gladly boarded the waiting shuttle bus. The driver just giggled at the sight of my wet pants and upon eyeing my Depends, he remarked, "A wise purchase."

Lisa and Sarah seated me by myself, wanting to avoid the smell of my pee soaked diaper and pants. They sat on the opposite side of the aisle across from me.

Lisa was the first to speak. "Stephen, Ms. Roberts will want to meet with you when we get back to camp. You'll recall that she told you that the purpose of this trip was to teach you two important lessons. You're best to think of what those two lessons are that, hopefully, you've learned." And with that, they left me to my thoughts and they just talked between themselves.

I was too upset and in shock from my awful trip to the Mall to figure out what two lessons I had learned. All I knew was that this day had been the most embarrassing experience that I could ever imagine. And how much I hated my stepmother for sending me to Camp Sissy Curls.

Half an hour later found me seated in the chair in Ms. Roberts' office again--still wet and holding my Depends.

"Well Stephen, what two important things did you learn from your shopping trip?"

I sobbed, holding my pretty head in my hands, "I don't know. All I know is it was awful!"

"Well, I guess that's a start sissy boy. But I suppose I have to give you a little help.----Do you enjoy wearing and using a diaper?"

"No, of course not," I cried.

"Very good. That's lesson number one---you want to do your best to avoid wearing and using diapers. Now lesson number two is a little more involved. I gave you your slacks and belt and socks and shoes to wear to the Mall. Do you think those clothes caused you any problem?"

"Well, the slacks showed the bulge of my diapers." It seemed the logical answer to me.

"True---but suppose you hadn't been wearing diapers and hadn't wet yourself and your slacks were dry and bulge free. Do you think wearing your pants, socks and shoes could have caused any other problems?" she probbed.

I was clueless. "I'm not sure what you mean Ms. Roberts."

"Okay, I'll put it this way. If I got you all cleaned up, put your regular underwear on you, another pair of your slacks, and your socks and shoes, and even one of your own shirts and sent you back to the Mall....."

"NOOOOO, please NO!!!!!" I blubbered.

"Relax, I don't think that will be necessary, but if I did all that---do you think your trip would still be very embarrassing for you?"

I just gave her a perplexed look.

She continued, "Just think about this Sweetie. Even if I sent you to the Mall without diapers and wearing all your own clothes, how do you think people would perceive you?"

Now I was really lost because I didn't know what "perceive" meant.

Ms. Roberts sensed this. "Given your head full of pretty curls and your barrettes and your pretty pink hair bow and plucked eyebrows, would people think you were a girl or a boy?"

"A boy," I answered.

"That's right. And a very sissy boy at that. Very good Stephen," she beamed. "So what's the second lesson you've learned?"

I could begin to see where all this was going, as abhorrent as it was to me. But I couldn't bring myself to give the humiliating answer.

"Well Stephen?"

I wouldn't shame myself by answering.

"Come on Stephen, or maybe a trip across my lap with a hair brush will loosen your tongue!"

I so did not want another spanking and knew my answer had to be given.

Finally I muttered through tears "I should wear girl's clothes."

"What? I can't hear you sissy boy!" she scolded.

"It would be better for me if I wore girl's clothes." I said in absolute defeat and misery.

"Bingo Stephen! Exactly! With a pretty dress and a little make-up and nail polish, you could be perceived as a girl and not a sissified boy---a lot less embarrassing for you in public."

Dear God, I thought. Things had become so twisted that I could now see how the logic of being dressed in girl's clothes, though sickening to me, would cause LESS humiliation for me in public. And it seemed that displaying me in public a lot was in my future. It was a real conflict in terms for me.

"Now head back to the nursey Stephen for a cleanup and diaper change and you are to report back here at 9:00 tomorrow morning. I'll expect you to ask me something then. Think about that in the meantime." And she bid me good night.

"But I thought I wouldn't have to wear diapers," I pleaded.

"You'll have to prove that you don't need them first Sweetie Pie. Now off you go."

The nanny on duty gave me a bubble bath, powdered and diapered me in three of my Depends and pulled very elaborately frilled and ruffled plastic lined rhumba diaper panties over the diapers. Ruffles around the leg openings, ruffles across the bum, ruffles everywhere on them. Extremely "little baby girlish". With a lacy, white nitey pulled on to me, she proceeded to remove my barrettes and ribbon bow started setting my hair in pink plastic clip-on rollers.

"Pay attention sissy boy because you'll have to do this for yourself soon."

It took a long time to have all my curls set. While she set my hair, I drank juice from a Sippy cup and ate cookies that she had given me. By 9:00 she was done. She placed a pink hair net over the curlers and took my hand.

"Campers who wear diapers have to sleep here in the nursery." she said as she led me to an open crib in a darkened area of the nursery where the over-sized baby cribs were. I could hear and smell other diapered sissy boys in nearby cribs.

"If you haven't messed your diapers by morning sissy boy, Ms. Roberts may let you go without them," she whispered as she stuck a pink pacifier in my mouth, slipped a Teddy Bear under my arm to cuddle and pulled a large white baby blanket over me. "Sleep tight, Snookums."

It took like what seemed to be hours to fall asleep. Not a surprise, given the fact that all the day's horrific events were replaying over and over again in my mind. As well as thoughts about what the rest of the summer had in store for me. And thoughts about how much I hated my stepmother for bringing me here. The thick diapers and prickly rollers contributed much to my insomnia too.

My last thought before finally falling asleep was "What did Ms. Roberts expect me to ask her in the morning?"