Camp Sissy Curls

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls (The Movie)--part 15

The camera was turned on and Lisa pointed her finger at me and silently mouthed the word "Go". I braced myself, smiled and felt a little pee trickle into my diapers from fear.

"Hi everybody, my name's Stephanie and I'm five years old." And I held my free hand out and spread my five fingers wide, as the stage direction on the cue card directed.

"I used to be Stephen but I was a weally bad boy, so now I'm a pwetty widdle girwl. I wove wearing pwetty dwesses and petticoats and panties and having my hair done up in wibbons and curwls."

"Would you like to show us your pretty panties Stephanie?" Lisa said,  right on cue.

"Oh Mommy nooo!!" I coquettishly feigned.

"Come on now. Little girls love to show off their pretty panties Sweet Pea!"

"Well," and I batted my eyelashes, "if you weally want to see them---okay."

I carefully got off my stool, placed my doll on it, and dropped a deep curtsey to the camera. All around, off camera, the girls struggled to keep from laughing out loud. As I'd been taught, I lifted the front of my dress and petticoats up high while twisting a little from side to side. I held that position until Lisa spoke after five or six seconds.

"Oh my Stephanie--very pretty. Can we see the back?"

"Yeth Mommy." And I turned around, bent over and exposed the seat of my rhumba panties and wiggled my bum a little.

"I hope my little sweetpie hasn't messed her didees!"

"No Mommy." I called over my shoulder.

"Oh my Gawd." laughed a girl who had lost her battle to stifle herself.

"Cut! And hold that pose Stephanie." cried Lisa. "Girls, you have to keep totally silent!" She scolded. "Rewind back to just after Stephanie's last line and we'll take it from there."

With the camera rolling again, Lisa spoke. "Don't you have a little song you'd like to sing for everybody Stephie?"

"Yes pwease Mommy." I gushed and I stood up, turned back to face the camera and smoothed my dress and petties. I curtsied again and directed my eyes to the TV screen to follow the Karaoke lyrics and cues.  I girlishly played with the skirt of my dress and twisted a little from side to side.

As the music began, again out of embarrassment and fear, I felt a little pee make its way into my diapers. I hoped I wouldn't be drenched by the end of the video.

On cue I began to sing.

"Cuuuttt!" snarled Lisa again, unhappy with something.

(In truth, it took several takes to get the song right and satisfy Lisa. The fourth one was, finally, good enough for her.)

"Song take four. Annnnnd GO!" called Lisa, pointing at me.

I lisped my rendition as little girlishly as I could in a sing songy, high pitched voice.

"One girwl wasth called Jean Mawie"
"Another widdle girwl wasth Felwicity"
"Another widdle girwl wasth Sallwy Joy"
"The other one wasth me and I'm a BOY!"

For the second verse, as the cue card indicated, I moved one hand to my head and began to play with my sausage curls and ribbons.

"My name is Bill, and I'm a headcase"
"They pwactice making up on my face"
"Yeah, I feel wucky if I get twousers to wear"
"Spend evenings taking hairpins fwom my hair"

For the chorus, I had to twirl as I sang.

"I"m a boy, I'm a boy"
"But my ma won't admit it"
"I'm a boy, I'm a boy"
"But if I say I am, I get it"

By verse three, burning with shame, tears poured out of my eyes.

"Put your fwock on, Jean Mawie"
"Plait your hair, Felwicity"
"Paint your nails, widdle Sallwy Joy"
"Put this wig on, widdle boy"

The song ended with me twirling again as I sang the chorus.

Lisa clapped loudly and gushed "That was adorable! Just perfect Stephanie. I'm so proud of my little girl!"

I gave a broad smile, tilted my head and answered, "Thank you Mommy."

I gave a deep curtsey and then blew a kiss to the camera.

"Cut--good job sissy boy. Take four was the charm." Lisa said.

To my great surprise, she walked to me and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. It did give me some comfort after the girlie torture I had just gone through. And I did so like to be close to her, even dressed as a little girl.

Author's note: Thanks and credit to Peter Townsend and "The Who", of whom I've been a huge fan for years. If I recall correctly, this song was actually discussed in the discussion forum here some time back.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls (The Movie)--part16



I was exhausted from the video and Lisa and the other girls could see that.



"You did pretty well Steph, " Lisa said, "and you earned a break. We'll get you outta your dress and petticoats and into something more comfortable."



She got my diaper bag and fished out the fairly plain pink nitegown that had been packed for me.



She held it up and frowned, "This won't do, it's much too boring."



Looking toward the gaggle of girls, she asked "Does anyone have anything a little more interesting for our little sissy to wear at her first slumber party? Preferably in pink, to match her rhumba panties."



A girl named Dana immediately replied, "I have a pink teddy that would be perfect. I'll go get it."



While Dana was gone, Lisa asked me, "Do you need a diaper change babycakes?"



I had wet myself a little during the taping. But definitely not noticeably and not to an extreme. And I so did not want to be changed in front of all these girls.



"No Lisa." I answered.



Dana soon returned, the teddy in her hands.



The girls "oohhed" and "aahhed" when Dana presented it for their approval.



"Perfect Dana, thanks." Lisa said.



The teddy was a very short and very sheer pink, lacy confection. It had a matching bra and I cringed at the thought of being put into one for the first time. I was made to strip down to nothing but my diapers and rhumba panties, as the girls laughed mercilessly.



Standing naked, save the diapers and panties, a couple of girls started dressing me. The bra was first and very humiliating to have on me. The teddy was then slipped over my head. It reached to about the half way point of my panties. The sheerness of it left my bra in full view. The only "saving grace" of it was that, at least, it was more comfortable and easier to manage than my huge dress and petticoats.



One girl mussed, "You know, he looks so convincing that one might think that he really WAS a girl."



Another replied, "Yeah, you're right. Do you suppose people might think he's a real girl in the video?"



Still another, "Yeah, like we were faking the whole scenario with a real girl and pulled a fast one!"



Lisa spoke, "Well you girls could be right. But you know, I've got an idea to make sure that doesn't happen. Let's add another part to the video. We've got plenty of tape."



I couldn't bear to think of what she had in mind and hung my head low.



Minutes later, I found myself standing in front of the camera again, sobbing and gasping for breath.



"Now Stephanie, when we turn on the camera and I point to you, I want you to pull your diapers and rhumba panties down, just in the front, and tuck them under your--ah--well--how can I say it--well--under your little sack. And then play with yourself until your little girlie weiner gets nice and hard and you--aahh--well--SQUIRT YOUR STICKY STUFF!"



The girls screamed with laughter and disbelief.



"That'll prove he's really a boy--well, a sissy boy at least." cried a girl.



"NOOOO, please no. Please don't make me do that." And I even got down on my knees and begged and pleaded. But to no avail. The girls were intent that I suffer this degrading act.



"You're gonna do this one way or another. You know that pansy. Give us a hard time and you know a lot of people will see this." Lisa reminded.



I thought of the "barrel" again and got up from my knees in agony.



"Oh, and one more thing Stephie. While you're--ah--pleasuring yourself, so to speak, you're to repeat over and over---I WANNA BE A GIRL---I WANNA BE A GIRL."



Lisa called for silence from the girls again. Sarah got the command to start rolling. And the finger was pointed.



Crying buckets of tears, I slowly pulled the front of my diapers and panties down and tucked them under my "thing". It was small and limp. The girls tittered.



I started to perform the horrifying act and repeated over and over, "I wanna be a girl---I wanna be a girl."



After about maybe a minute, or maybe a lifetime, Lisa shouted "Cut!"



"Is your girlie weiner broken Stephanie?" She asked, not expecting an answer. "It's going nowhere. Limp as a noodle. Now get it up sissy boy!"



The one milligram of dignity that was left in me was now gone.



The tape rolled again and I performed again, but with no success. My little soldier wouldn't "salute".



The girls laughed and teased and I bawled (yes-pun intended).



"Cut!" Lisa shouted. "I guess the Nancyboy needs a little motivation."



"No, he needs a Viagra!!!" Someone  shouted and the laughter was deafening.



I feared the motivation would be another spanking but I was wrong. In fact, what Lisa did was very surprising and astonishing. She removed her top and bra, exposing her gorgeous self, and stood as close as she could to me, without being seen on camera. She was well endowed for a sixteen year old.



"Show us there's some speck of manliness in you STEPHEN!"



The camera rolled.



"I wanna be a girl. I wanna be a girl. I wanna be a girl!" I said continually as I played with myself.



And before long, I became erect.



Someone just couldn't contain herself and shouted, "Look, Stephie's got a stiffie!"



That caused a lot of laughter but Lisa didn't stop the filming.



Finally, I "shot my wad" to the sound of loud applause.



Lisa yelled "Cut!" and put her bra and top back on.



Her little striptease had worked and it was wonderful to see her topless. But it wasn't worth the price I had to pay for it.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls (The Movie)--part 17



I stood there totally exhausted, wet from tears and sweat and the little bit of pee I'd done in my diapers during the video.



"Someone run a nice bubble bath for the sissy boy--need to get him squeaky clean for beddie bye." Said Lisa.



Minutes later, I was relaxing in a tub full of bubbles, with a shower cap over my curls to protect them. Two girls named Jenny and Melissa were gently bathing me all over, taking care to remove all of my makeup too.

It was actually quite soothing, especially after the performance I had just endured.



Bathed and dried, I was back in the main part of the cabin being powdered and diapered and pantied and redressed in my Teddie.



Jenny had tittered about the smallness of my "willy" when she diapered me.



"No wonder he wheres dresses and diapers!"



But that actually was the last snide remark I received for a long time.



By now, all the girls seemed calmed down and much less excited. They were all just sort of sitting around and chatting and doing all the "girl things" that girls did at a slumber party. They were setting each other's hair, painting each other's nails, talking about boys--normal stuff like that.



"Hi Stephie, I'm Sandy." Said a cute, short haired blondie as she approached me. She was holding my hairnet filled with my rollers.



"I know your hair needs to be set each night to keep your lovely curls fresh. Would you like me to set it for you?"



I nodded yes, thinking it would be a lot less work for me.



We sat on the floor, Sandy behind me, and she began winding the pink rollers into my hair.



"I'll touch up his fingernails and his toenails need polish to match." Volunteered another girl.



Under normal circ-umstances, having your hair set in rollers and your finger and toenails painted would be an awful experience for a boy. But no one was taunting or teasing me and they were treating me in a gentle way. Just like each other. I got the feeling that they even felt a little sorry for me and remorseful about what they'd put me through. I appreciated the TLC.



But unfortunately, it didn't last for long.



By the time my hair was set and hairnet in place and finger and toenails almost done, I started to feel The all too familiar "rumbling" inside me that meant that I needed to make use of my diapers, and soon.



I wiggled and squirmed and fidgeted as my fingernails dried and my toenails received their last coat of pink polish.



Lisa noticed and asked, "Stephie, do you need to use your diapers?"



The girls laughed and I just stared staight ahead and made no reply. Lisa knew I'd soon be using them.



"Let's get this on camera too!" Called Lisa.



Five minutes later, I was standing in front of the rolling camera again, suc-king on a pacifier and dancing about trying not to mess myself.



"Stephie, do you need to poop your diapers?" Lisa asked off camera.



My only reply was "sobbing.



"Well don't hold back Sweetie. That's why little girls like you wear diapers!. That's what they're for honey."



I so did not want to poop my diapers in front of everyone and have it caught on tape too. I struggled to contain myself. But I could tell I was losing the "Battle of the Diaper Bulge".



"Go on Babycakes, let it all out." Lisa coaxed.



I fought for a few more moments to keep from pooping, but I lost the battle.



With a very audible "grunt", I filled the seat of my diapers with a large stinky load and wet them thoroughly.



Lisa called, "Good girl, Little Miss Stinky Pants." And Lisa signaled and mouthed "Cut."



The great laughter of the girls was soon stifled by the smell and replaced with cries of "Phew!" and "Oooh, he stinks!" And they pinched their noses.



I stood in front of them in shock again from the shameful thing I'd done in my diapers. Nobody was willing to change my wet, poopy mess, and who could really blame them. I'd have to wait until morning to be changed back at the camp nursery.



"I'm sorry Steph," said Lisa, "but we can't have you sleeping here in the cabin and stinking up the place all night."



A cot was set up out in the screened-in porch. It was a warm night and coldness wouldn't be a factor. I was led to it by several, nose pinched, girls and placed on it, with a blanket over me and my Raggedy Ann tucked under my arm. A girl proceeded to fix a long length of light chain securely around one of my ankles and locked it with a small padlock. She did the same with the other end around a wall beam.



"Can't have you running off in the night." She quipped.



Yeah, I thought, like I'd run away in wet, poopy diapers and curlers and a Teddy. It was a very long, uncomfortable wet stinky night for me.



The next morning, sun up and shining, Lisa came out to the porch holding her nose and yawning.



"C'mon Poopy Pants, I'll walk you back to your camp. A nanny can change your horrid diapers." And she unlocked the chain and tossed me some flip flops for the trek.



As we walked over the meadow to camp, she had me walk four or five paces behind her, wanting to stay "upwind" of me. She carried my dress on a hanger and I, my diaper bag.



My pee soaked diapers were leaking down my legs. I couldn't tell if my other "diaper deposit" was doing the same.



Not many, but some "boys" at camp were already out and about. As before, they gave hushed giggles at the sight of me, but said nothing--lest they might wind up like pitiful me.



In the nursery, a nanny fanned her nose and laughed. "Well Stephie, did you have fun at your first slumber party?"



Her sarcastic question required no answer and I just hung my head in shame and "stink" as Lisa bade "Good Bye!"



The nanny took my diaper bag and dress and hung it up. To my surprise and shock, she removed only my nitegown; leaving me just as I was in my bra, rollers, stinky soggy diapers, rhumba panties and flip flops.



"Ms Roberts' expecting you in her office stinky boy. March!"



Standing in front of Ms Roberts, she held her nose like everyone else and spoke.



"Since you can't seem to control your, shall I say, bodily functions Missy, I'm going to make an example out of you."



"But nobody lets me use a toilet!' I replied in great frustration.



She was stymied by my reply and hesitated for a moment. "Don't you dare talk back to me--you stinky little sissy!"



And I didn't dare to say any more.



She regrouped herself and continued.



"You're going to be left like that until bedtime. You'll spend your day on the playground. A little fresh air will do you some good and everyone else too. You can play with the other campers, though I doubt they'll oblige you in your current state. You'll be seated outdoors for your lunch and dinner so you won't stink up the cafeteria. And that's the only time I'll expect to see you sitting. You're to wander the camp so everyone gets a good look at you."



With that said, she took from her desk a fairly large piece of cardboard and punched two holes in the top corners. With a red, felt tip marker, she printed something on it. She attached a long piece of of pink yarn to the holes, creating a big loop. Holding her breath, she hung it around my neck in front, just under my bra.



I spent the rest of the day, almost in a trance, wandering around the camp in my wet, sticky mess.



My sign read: "Caution--wet, poopy diapers!"



I realized my humiliation had no bounds!

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part18



Except for a half hour each for a bagged lunch and dinner under the shade of a tree, I spent the next eight or more hours walking aimlessly, well more "waddling" I suppose, around the camp.



I was totally wet from the waste down and stunk beyond belief. My diapers sagged and drooped greatly and the sag increased as the day went on and I had to wet and poop more.



I certainly didn't engage any of my fellow campers, in the condition I was in. And likewise, they kept away, and up wind of me. They only just pointed to me and giggled girlishly and then went about their games or activities. I so envied them in their pink pleated skirts and panties and camp T-shirts. They were dressed in simple age appropriate, for a real girl at least, outfits. And they were clean.



While the "boys" at my camp pretty much left me alone, any visiting girls from Camp Sunnyvale who happened to see me teased me mercilously--from afar though to avoid my "scent". Several made me pose as they took my picture with their digital cameras and made wisecracks about my smelly diapers and the sign I wore around my neck.



It was probably after 6PM when I heard over the camp loudspeaker system, "Stephanie Crandall please report to the camp nursery."



Reprieve I thought and gladly made my way there as quickly as I could waddle, being careful though to assure that  the horrid "brown" contents of my diapers remained within them and my rhumba panties.



A nanny met me at the door holding a bar of soap, a towel and a black plastic trash bag. She held her nose and said, "Stop right there Missy! You're not stepping foot in here like that."



She directed my around to back of the building where a faucet and hose were. Not getting too near, she tossed me the soap and the bag. She told me to open the large bag, remove my flip flops and step into it. And I did.



"Now carefully take off your bra and pull off your rhumba panties Stephanie and toss them on the grass." That done, she continued. "Now pull those awful diapers down to your ankles and off, keeping them in the bag." And I did.



She then had me step out of the bag and told me to tie it with the drawstrings and had me throw it into a nearby dumpster.



"We're gonna do a little prewash before taking you inside for a thorough cleaning." But then she remembered something.  "Oops, I forgot your shower cap." She left me naked there and hurried back inside and returned a minute later.



"Now take the soap. I'll spray some water your way and you wash your poopy hands completely." With my hands clean from pulling off my diapers, she tossed me the shower cap to put over my hairnet and curlers.



"While I spray you, you srub yourself thoroughly. Every knook and cranny of your body."



The water was cold but it was still quite warm outside and I didn't care. I was naked and this was all very humiliating, but I didn't care. I was just so glad to be clean and out of those horrible, stinky diapers. It took a long time you get clean but eventually I was done. As I dried myself with the towel, the nanny hosed off my rhumba panties and placed them in a small plastic bag to go into the wash later. And she threw the bar of soap in the dumpster. She gathered my things and we headed inside. I wore the towel around me.



Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a tub full of very pretty smelling bubbles for a final cleaning. It felt wonderful and I wished I could sit there for hours. But I had to be made ready for bedtime. My hair would not have to be set though, as I still had it in rollers from the night before.



Diapered, teeth brushed and dressed for bed; I was glad to be put into my crib early. I was exhausted and slept like a baby, literally.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part19



8:00AM, I was awakened by the flash of lights being turned on and the sound of nannies moving about and the now familiar smell of soggy, stinky diapers. As I counted in my head to determine that this was only the start of my fourth day at this hellish camp, I was very pleased to realize that the diaper smell wasn't coming from me. My diapers were still clean and dry and I felt no urgent need to use them either. I was thrilled.



A nanny stood over me and stuck a few fingers into the front of my diapers. "Wow! Good girl Stephanie. You didn't mess your didees. I'm very proud of you sweetie."



And I actually was proud of me too.



"Well," she continued, "you've earned yourself a reward Stephie."



I cynically wondered if that "reward" would really be something I'd like. And I was soon to discover that it truly was a reward for me.



I was taken from the crib and totally stripped of everything I had on, including my still clean diapers. The nanny then took a pair of panties (bloomers, she called them) and had me step into them. They were yellow gingham cotton and had white lace around the waste and leg openings. Certainly little girlish, but not as frilly and prissy as the rhumba panties I had been wearing. And best of all, they weren't covering diapers. They weren't even designed for that purpose. I was diaper free and it felt so good. I even smiled as I looked down at them. To be happy about such a thing seemed incredulous I knew, but it was a big improvement in my situation.



Next came a training bra, white anklets with lace cuffs that matched my panties, and white sandals.



The final garment also matched my panties. It was a yellow gingham cotton dress with a white Peter Pan collar and white trim on the cuffs of the short puffed sleeves. It had a sewn in, fairly full, white petticoat. But, at least, it wasn't as voluminous as the petticoats I'd worn before. The dress reached down to just above the white lace trim on the leg openings of my bloomers. My outfit was still very little girlish, but not nearly as frilly and prissy and "busy" as the pink satin party dress. And it was a lot more comfortable to have on.



It wasn't the simple pleated skirt and top that most boys wore, but it was a step up for me. No diapers was the best though.



The nanny removed my curlers and did my hair. She tied a large yellow gingham bow to the top of my head. It matched my dress perfectly.



"Ms Roberts wants"



"I know." I said interrupting the nanny (though not rudely), "She wants to meet me in her office."



I was so happy to be out of diapers and more simply dressed, that I found myself almost skipping to her office. Realizing this, I slowed to a normal walk and chastised myself for doing such a girlish thing.



Standing in front of her desk, Ms Roberts complimented me.



"Your new outfit looks good on you Stephanie." And she paused for a moment.



Expecting her to continue, I offered no reply. But she was indeed expecting a reply.



"A thank you and a curtsey would be in order now Stephanie."



And I did so, almost genuinely too.



She continued, "I thought about what you said yesterday about not being allowed to use the toilet, which by the way, we refer to as the 'potty' here at camp. And since you didn't mess your diapers over night, I've decided to give you the chance to prove you don't need them."



She paused and I picked up on her cue.



"Thank you Ms Roberts." And I curtsied again.

 

"Furthermore, I'm going to put you into the general population of the camp."



She sounded like a prison warden I thought. But then--this place was like a prison--a sissy prison.



"You'll be bunking in Sugar Plum cabin. It's just out the main door and to your left, about a hundred yards down the path. You'll find it on your right, just past Tinkerbell cabin. The counselor there is waiting for you. You can leave now and stay dry."



"Yes Ms Roberts. Thank you." And I gave a final curtsey.



I headed for Sugar Plum cabin. Many boys, in their regulation pleated skirts and camp T-shirts, passed by me in the opposite direction. I figured they were headed for breakfast. I noticed that their skirts were navy blue. I'd seen khaki tan, and pink and now, navy blue skirts. I wondered if there was a different color for each day of the week.



I could tell they all recognized me from my venture around the camp in poopy diapers yesterday. They giggled a little at me in my little girl dress but some, for the first time, actually spoke to me in passing. And not unkindly.



"Congratulations." Said one.



"Big improvement." Said another.



"You must be so glad to be out of diapers." Said yet another.



One even stopped and asked me what cabin I was headed for. And he pointed it out and said, but not in mocking, "Be sure to keep your panties dry."



I reached my cabin and standing on the steps of the entrance was a tall, long haired brunette girl, 15 or 16 maybe, in short shorts and a tank top that covered her ample cleavage. Her hair was braided into two long pigtails that reached to her bosom. She was breathtaking, even more gorgeous than Lisa and the girls at Hummingbird cabin.



"You must be little Stephanie!" She said. And she walked down the steps and knelt in front of me, busily fingering my dress and fondling my curls like a mother would her little daughter. I was struck by how much these girls from Sunnyvale liked to dote on (and torment too) little girlie boys like me.



"You look absolutely adorable and smell so sweet!" She gushed. "A huge improvement from yesterday."



She took my hands in hers and continued. "My name's Christine but everyone calls me Chrissy. We sort of met yesterday. I took a picture of you in your---well---you know. But you probably don't remember me."



I didn't remember her specifically, as I was in a daze most of yesterday.



"I'm the intern counselor for Sugar Plum cabin. I'm from Sunnyvale and I'm a friend of Lisa and Sarah."



She then stood up and put her hands on her hips and said, "Welcome to the camp, I guess you all know why we're here!"



Her statement seemed a bit odd and was lost on me.



That said, she took my hand and walked me up the stairs and inside.



Things were "looking up" I thought---and so was my little "Tommy" inside my panties.



Author's note: Sorry, I couldn't resist. Ardent fans of "The Who" will understand and oblige me yet another song reference.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part20



The inside of the cabin was a rectangle, with rows of single beds and small dressers and closet shelves on either side of the center aisle.

Each cabin, Chrisssy told me, housed twelve campers.



"Your bunk mates are all at breakfast now. We'll get you situated and then I'll take you there."



She led me to a vacant bed.



"Here's your bed Stephanie and your dresser and shelf to hang things on. We'll get the few things you have from the nursery later on. But you'll need more . The showers and potties are over there." And she pointed to a back corner of the cabin.



Then she took me by the hand and walked me over to the cafeteria for breakfast.



With a tray of scrambled eggs, toast, cereal and juice in my hand, Chrissy directed me over to a table that was designated for Sugar Plum cabin. She introduced me to the group and I sat and ate.



I felt out of place, being new and being dressed as I was. I consoled myself with the fact that what I had on was a whole lot better than what I'd worn the previous three days. But I so did envy them their simple skirts and tops. And simpler hairdos---ponytails and pigtails and braids and some even had curls like mine. But none wore ribbons or barrettes in their hair like I did.



Chrissy sat down next to me, sipping a cup of coffee. The other boys largely ignored me and just chattted as they ate.



"When you're done with breakfast," Chrissy said, "we need to get you a few more things." And she fondled one of my sausage curls.



I finished, returned my tray, and Chrissy took my hand.



"C'mon sweetie, gotta catch the camp shuttle bus!"



I pulled back from her grip in fear and started to tear up.



"Relax Stephie. It'll be okay. Trust me."



As we rode the shuttle, Chrissy explained, "Ms Roberts wants you to have a few more dresses like you're wearing now--only in pink and blue gingham. We're going to a clothing shop that carries them. They also carry a line of uniforms--school, scouting---that sort of thing. The camp shops there a lot. The boys skirts and camp T-shirts come from there. It's in the Mall."



"Nooo, please not the Mall. Please---not the Mall again!" I pleaded and started to cry.



"Now calm down Stephie, and listen to me." And she wiped my face with a tissue.



"You know that if you walk and talk and act and behave like a little girl, no one will know you're really a boy. We'll pretend that you're my little sister."



I seriously doubted what she said but I knew I had no choice.



"You can do this sweetie." And she gave me a little hug. And she smelled wonderful. That did give me some comfort.



I took a big gulp of air as we entered the Mall, holding Chrissy's hand. I did my very best to be as little girlish as I could. I walked, almost skipped, with a slight wiggle. I played with the skirt of my dress and petties. I fondled and tossed my curls. I stuck a finger in the corner of my mouth. I did everything I could muster to appear as a real little girl.



As we walked the Mall, all I could think of was the humiliating experience I had there just days before. I avoided eye contact as much as I could. But to my surprise, and relief, people pretty much paid no attention to me. A few women did give a smile as they passed by us and I tensed and squeezed Chrissy's hand very tightly.



"Relax Stephanie, " she whispered in my ear, "they're just smiling at the sight of a very cute little girl walking through the Mall with her big sister."



And it seemed that she was right and I felt a bit more confident.



We reached the shop we were headed for, walked in and were greeted by a sales lady. "Can I help you two?"



"Yes please. Stephanie here needs two dresses just like she's wearing, only one in pink gingham and one in blue gingham. I'm sure you have them here." And Chrissy handed her a credit card and added, "It'll go on this account."



The sales lady looked at the credit card and said, "Yes, we have them. Follow me please."



We walked past several customers, all apparently non the wiser about me. When we reached the rack of dresses like mine, the sales lady looked at Chrissy and asked, "What size does HE take?"

 

I gasped and held my hands to my face. She knew I was a boy!



Chrissy lifted the curls at the back of my neck and looked at the tag on my dress collar and told her "Size 12 please."



Then Chrissy whispered again in my ear. "Don't fret Precious. The credit card I showed her is for the Camp Sissy Curls account that we have here.

When she saw it, she realized the situation. Calm down, they're used to us bringing our special little 'boys' here for dresses and such."



It was little consolation to me but at least being "outed" as a boy wasn't my fault. But it still made me very anxious and uncomfortable.



With a pink and a blue size 12 in her hands, the sales lady escorted us to the dressing rooms. "These are HIS size, but HE should still try them on just to make sure they fit HIM properly." She told Chrissy.



"His" and "He" and "Him", I thought, wishing she wouldn't use those words.



Two girls, probably about my own "real" age, were looking at skirts on a nearby rack. "He can't really be a boy, could he?" Said one to the other. And they both giggled. They had heard the sales lady.



We reached the dressing room only to discover that it was quite crowded. All the changing booths were occupied.



The sales lady made a suggestion. "He", and realizing her mistake from moments before, "Ah, I mean SHE can just try them on out here. It's not unusual for little girls to try things on out here with their mothers or big sisters around. Happens all the time."



Then she knelt down in front of me and squeezed my now tear streaked cheeks in her hands and said, "Besides, we're all girls here. Right Stephanie?"

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part21

Sensing my apprehension, Chrissy said to the sales lady, "Let me try. She's just a little shy."

Chrissy then knelt in front of me and gently kissed me on the cheek. "It's okay to try them on out here Stephie. You heard the nice lady, it's done all the time. Besides, Chrissy's here, you'll be fine!"

I pouted like a little girl, and I wasn't acting. I shook my head and squeaked, "No."

"Please do this for your big sister. I know you can. And besides, there's not a lot of time before we have to catch the bus back. Waiting for an open dressing booth will take forever.  C'mon Sweetie Pie, do it for Chrissy."

And before I even realized it, she had my dress up over my head and off.

Standing there in just my bloomers and training bra was very embarrassing and I was relieved when the pink dress was quickly put on me.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it pumpkin." Chimed the sales lady as she inspected the dress.

Satisfied with how it fit, she lifted it off me and put it back on its hanger.

"Now for the blue." She said.

As she took it from the hanger, she noticed a little snag in the hem of it and pointed it out to Chrissy and said, "It's the only blue size 12 that we have. Let me just run it to the back and I'll take care of it. I promise I won't be long!" And off she ran with it before I could even protest.

While I stood there, totally embarrassed, I became aware of a sensation in my bloomers. And it wasn't the "rumblings" of a need to pee or even to poop.

As seconds turned into a minute, I heard a shopper nearby gasp and she cried, "Oh my gosh!"

Chrissy and I both looked down at the front of my panties at the same time.

Chrissy squealed, "Oh jeez!" And quickly stepped in front of me.

The front of my bloomers was sticking out like a tent. And my "willy" was the tent pole. It was very noticeably erect.

"For God's sake Stephie, get your little "thing" under control. It's a dead giveaway!" Chrissy said in almost a whisper, not wanting to draw even more attention.

But I had no way to control it. The best I could do was to hold my hands in front of my bulging bloomers.

The sales lady returned with the dress just a minute later, though it felt like an hour. But in just that short time, my "woody" was even bigger and a small wet "prec-um" stain had appeared on the front of my panties.

"Arms up honey. Let's try this one now." And she gasped as I lifted them up.

"Oh dear God!" she cried and quickly put the dress on me. But not quick enough to prevent  a lot of shoppers from seeing my "tented" panites and wet mark.

To the sound of much giggling, and scorn too, from the shoppers around me; I heard the one girl who wondered earlier about me say to the other, "I don't believe it. She really IS a boy!"

The sales lady and Chrissy did their best to get me back into my original dress and out of the shop with my new ones as quickly as possible.

"Bye bye sissy boy!" called the girls. "You're very pretty!"

"Pervert!" growled a lady.

Out in the Mall, Chrissy took me to a bench and wiped my tears and tried to console me. But I couldn't stop crying. I was so embarrassed and humiliated.

"I'm so sorry Stephie. But there's no way I could have known that your little "thing" would do that. I know it was awful for you. But at least, back out here no one will know you're a boy." And she added in jest and to brighten my mood, "Unless your "stiffie" is big enough to poke through your dress and petticoats!"

I didn't find it funny and it didn't brighten my mood.