Camp Sissy Curls

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part8

6AM, the dawn of my second day at Camp Sissy Hell, as far as I was concerned. I had woken up early, on my own, from my fitful sleep due to the uncomfortable and foreign feeling of my tightly wound curlers and bulging diapers.

No hope of it all being a dream, I thought. This was for real. Other "babies" around me were stirring but they all still seemed to be asleep. I was relieved that I had not REILIEVED myself at all in my diapers. They were still clean. I wondered when the official "wakeup" time was.

As I dozed in my crib, I thought about what Ms. Roberts expected me to ask her this morning. I knew it all had to be some devious ploy on her part to get me to ask her something very degrading to me. An hour passed and I still hadn't figured out what I was expected to ask of her.

But more disturbing than that was---I was beginning to feel pressure and rumblings in my stomach area, not of hunger but of a need to poop. And I also was getting the urge to pee. If I could have a clean diaper at wakeup, I'd be allowed to go without diapers.

By 7:30, I was squirming and fidgeting, trying to keep the inevitable from happening. I so wanted a clean diaper for whenever wakeup time was.

At 7:45, Mother Nature won the battle. I cried as I could hold it no longer and pooped out a huge load into the seat of my diapers, followed by a forceful stream of pee. It was horrible, to say the very least. The smell and feel and squish of my poo was awful. But just as bad and extremely repugnant was the act itself of having to poop one's own diapers. For a one or two year old, no problem. But for an almost thirteen year old boy, this babyish experience was a very humiliating and degrading thing to do. But that seemed to be the goal of this camp, to humiliate and degrade boys AND to force them to humiliate and degrade THEMSELVES.

I laid in my crib crying. I was fidgeting and squirming, but this time, in a fruitless effort to try to ease the feeling of the very wet and very poopy diapers I was encased in.

At 8:00, lights began to slowly come on and Nannys started moving about. I had missed staying clean by about fifteen minutes only and faced more time in diapers. How much more time I could only wonder.

"Well, looks like we have a 'Little Miss Poopy Pants' here!" was the morning greeting I received from a dowdy, heavy set woman.

Down went the crib bars, "Waddle over to the changing table and I'll get you squared away Sweet Pea."

Ten minutes later, I was clean and freshly diapered in three Depends covered with lavishly frilled rhumbas like last night's, only in baby pink.
I was wearing a Camp Sissy Curls T-shirt, but it too was baby pink, as was the pacifier now protruding from my mouth. Pink Jellies were my foot gear.

Seated at a vanity table, the nanny removed my rollers and started combing and primping my curls.

"Oh my goodness," she gushed, "you have such beautiful hair! Far too pretty to be wasted on a boy." I said nothing in response.

She finished off my hair with pink barrettes and a pink bow tied to each side of my head this time. The ends of the ribbons dangled over my ears.

"There you go sissy, as pretty as a picture." she chimed. "Now let's get those teeth brushed and then I'll take you to Ms. Roberts' office. It's almost nine."

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part9



At nine on the dot, I knocked on Ms. Roberts' door. "Come in Stephen, I'm expecting you," she called.



I stood in front of her, eyes glued to the floor. "Well Sweetie, it appears you haven't taken to heart the first lesson about keeping out of diapers. I do hope you're not planning to spend the entire summer in wet, poopy, stinky diapers!" There seemed to be little sincerity in her words--me in diapers all summer was probably exactly what she wanted.



"I couldn't help it," I moaned.



"Of course Babykins," she jeered, "have a seat Pumpkin."



Boy, I was getting sick of all these "cutsie" names. I sat and she began.



"Now what do you want to ask me Stephen?"



"I don't know."



"Come, come you don't appear to be a stupid boy----what do you want to ask me? Think about what we talked about last night." she said.



"I just don't know!" I stressed.



She frowned, "Okay..........have you had breakfast yet?"



"No." I replied, surprised by her sudden change of gears.



"In an hour, I'm going into town to the post office to mail some packages. There's a Perkins across the street from it. I'm going to take you with me and we'll both get some breakfast there after the post office. In the meantime, you can just sit on the bench outside my office and try to keep your diapers clean."



"NO--PLEASE NOT THAT---PLEASE DON'T----PLEASE NO, NO, NOOOOOOOO!" I begged and sobbed and stomped my feet on the floor.



"Oh, you're definitely going to town with me!!! Now then, what do you want to ask me?" She was unrelenting.



Then it hit me, though I think that deep down inside I knew all along.



"Ummm, can I wear a dress?" I said in almost a whisper.



"Speak up, I can't hear you sissy boy!"



"CAN I WEAR A DRESS?" and I held my hands to my face in utter defeat and shame.



But she wasn't satisfied yet. "What kind of DRESS?"



She threw a curve to me on that one.



"A very pretty dress--PLEASE," was all I could come up with. I was mortified.



"Good GIRL!!! Very good GIRL!!! Of course you can wear a pretty dress. And some makeup and lipstick and nail polish too. Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" she grinned.



I, of course, didn't answer her. But it was sooooo very bad. It was so bad that I almost thought I was going to throw up.



"Go back to the nursery and they'll fix you up with something nice and pretty. Report back here in an hour Sweetie Pie."



At 10:20, with tears streaming down my face, I again knocked on Ms. Roberts' door.



"Come in!" she called, in a very sing songy voice.



I stood in front of her tugging nervously at the hem the most frilliest pink satin party dress imaginable. The kind a little girl might wear in a Beauty Pageant or to a fancy birthday party. Ribbons and lace and ruffles lavishly covered almost every square inch of it. Puffed sleeves, Peter Pan collar, a wide sash tied in back with a huge bow. The skirt of the dress was very short and extremely full due to the multiple white organza petticoats it floated on. I couldn't even see my feet, which were adorned in lacy pink anklets and pink patent leather Mary Janes. My lacy gloved hands clutched a small matching pink purse. I had light makeup on, pink lip gloss and matching pink nail polish. I was shocked and certainly wasn't expecting to be dressed in such a sissy, little girl way. This didn't seem really much better than the way I was dressed before.



"You look absolutely adorable! Very, very pretty." Ms. Roberts gushed as she approached me and took a small spray bottle from her purse. "Just one more thing Sweetie." And she sprayed perfume behind my ears and on my wrists.



She wiped my tears with her handkerchief and admonished me to not cry and ruin my makeup.



"Time's growing short. Let's get going STEPHANIE!" she said. Sensing my surprise at the name, she added, "Well, don't you think that name is more appropriate for you now?"

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part10



As we walked toward her mini-van, I reallized how difficult my dress and petticoats were to control. They seemed to have a life of their own. The slightest breeze lifted them up, almost like a kite on the end of a string. They bounced and swished with every step and movement. If I bent over even just a little, I knew my diapers and rhumba panties would be fully displayed to anyone nearby. All these feelings and sensations were very unfamiliar to me and absolutely awful.



Upon reaching her mini-van, I experienced another problem---how to sit down in my ocean of frills.



"Normally Stephanie, a girl smoothes her skirt or dress behind her when she sits. But with your dress being so full and on the short side (short side was an understatement I thought), it probably would be best for you to just lift it up and sit down on your bum."



I did so and buckled my seatbelt. As we drove toward town, I complained.



"Ms. Roberts, I thought my dress would be simpler and more like what a girl my age would wear. This is so frilly and sissy. I look like a 5 year old on her way to some fancy party!"



"You're absolutely right Stephanie. You look like a 5 year old little girl because THAT'S what you are now. You should be thankful for that. I could have started you off as a 1 year old baby girl, like those boys in the nursery. If you behave and accept your situation like a good little girl, in time, you'll be allowed to dress more age appropriately. If not, you'll be dressed as a full fledged little baby girl. It's up to you Sweet Pea."



I sobbed and sniffled into tissues Ms. Roberts gave me as she continued.



"I admit that your outfit is a little over the top, should we say, and it is designed to be worn for very special occasions. But this IS a very special occasion. It's your first outing as a complete girl and I want you to experience your new femininity to the fullest. I want you to be fully immersed in little girlhood. You may even grow to like it Stephanie!"



"Never." I replied.



"There's the post office, come on, let's go." she said, pulling into a parking spot.



As we entered, everyone seemed to stop at once to gape at me. Many giggled or laughed but nothing was said until we reached the counter where Ms. Roberts placed her packages to be mailed.



"Good morning Ms. Roberts." said the post office clerk, with a cheery smile. "Looks like you have a new camper!"



And looking at me, she remarked "You look very pretty in your dress young MAN. What's your name Honey?"



She knew I was a boy, as probably everyone else did. In my shock, I accidently dropped my purse. When I bent to pick it up, I heard an uproar of laughter and realized I had just given everyone a full view of my diapers and rhumba panties.



A lady behind us in line giggled to Ms. Roberts, "He still needs diapers, I see."



"Hopefully in time, little Stephanie here will grow out of them." was her reply to the lady.



"I would certainly think he'll be eager to." quipped the lady.



We left the post office with me struggling to control my dress and petticoats in the slight breeze that was blowing. My eyes were fixed  to the pavement, not wanting to see anyone.



My experience at the restaurant was very similar to the post office. People laughed and giggled at the sight of me but didn't say a lot.



With much difficulty, I managed to seat myself in the booth we were ushered to----my dress and petticoats billowing all around me.



"Hi Ms. Roberts, new camper I see! What can I get for you?" said the pretty, young waitress standing at our booth.



Ms. Roberts ordered her breakfast and the waitress turned to me. "And what would you like young MAN?" She said with a giggle.



Everyone knew I was a boy! Ms. Roberts had tricked me and lied to me. Dressing in girl's clothes seemed to do nothing to conceal the fact that I was a boy. This outing was no less humiliating than yesterday's trip to the Mall.



When our breakfasts came, I ate quickly wanting to get out of there as soon as possible and back to the relative security of the van. Mercifully, we were out of the restaurant in less than an hour.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part11



Riding back to camp, with crocodile tears streaming down my face, I confronted Ms. Roberts. "You tricked me, you lied! You said if I wore a dress and makeup and all that stuff, people would think I was a girl. But everyone knew I'm a boy."



"I didn't lie Stephanie. But there are two factors involved that caused them to know you were a boy. For one, the town is small and everybody knows me and knows about the special boys camp I run. So naturally, they knew you were a boy. Secondly, and this is another good lesson for you to learn--- you walk, talk, sit, eat and carry yourself like a boy. Your mannerisms are not at all girlish."



"Yeah, cuz I'm a boy!" I said.



Ms. Roberts paused for a moment to think and then continued.



"Let me put it to you this way. If I took you to the Mall right now and you spoke in a higher voice and acted and walked more femininely and all, people would think you were a girl--though a very sissyish one--but a girl at least. The Mall is outside of town. Near the Interstate exit ramp. Packed with people who are just passing through the area. People who don't know me or Camp Sissy Curls. THEY'D think you were a girl. Care to test my theory? We can head for the Mall."



"No Ms. Roberts." I quickly answered.



"Then stop your blubbering and quit complaining and think about what I just told you Stephanie. When we get back to camp, Lisa's agreed to come by and take you on a tour of our camp. You've seen nothing really of it except for the inside of the administration building. And she'll take you to dinner at the camp cafeteria and you'll meet lots of the other happy campers!"



"Happy campers" I thought, yeah right.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curl--part12



Back at camp, Lisa was indeed waiting for me outside Ms. Roberts' office.



"Oh my God, you look sooooo precious Stephen!" she cried.



"It's Stephanie now." corrected Ms. Roberts.



"So frilly and prissy, I could just eat you up! And Stephanie is a perfect name for you," continued Lisa, "well, let's get going Stephie. Got a lot to see."



She took my hand like before. While I knew she took my hand as a means of control like a mother would take her little girl's hand, maybe even as a symbol of domination, I still enjoyed having some physical contact with this gorgeous girl. I also knew that would be as far as I would ever get with her. No pretty, 16 year old girl would ever have anything to do with a pansy in diapers and ribbons and curls and petticoats like me.



Outside the building, she primped my curls and adjusted my hair bows and smoothed my dress over my petticoats. She even retied the bow of my sash. "I want you looking like a perfect little miss!" she giggled.



We spent over an hour walking around the campgrounds, me constantly battling with my dress and petticoats for control.



"Don't you just love the feeling of your petties Stephie? The way they swish and bob and bounce around you as you walk."



"Aaaaah-NO, it's horrible." I said, thinking she was crazy.



"Well I so adored fussy, frilly, pouffie dresses when I was a little girl like you."



Her words really stabbed me in the heart, even though she was right. I was a little girl now and it was so awful.



The afternoon was a sunny, bright and warm one. I could feel beads of sweat dripping under the sausage curls dangling over my neck and shoulders. I was overdressed for a warm day, or for that matter any day, I thought.



All around, girls (who I knew were really boys of course) were busy playing volleyball, tennis, archery, soccer, kickball--all the typical sports things of a normal camp. Some were just reading under the shade of a tree. They were all pretty much dressed in the same way---the Camp Sissy Curls T-shirt over a short pleated tan skirt. They wore white socks and girls sneakers. I could see, as they ran or jumped, that they wore lacy white panties underneath their skirts. I could also detect bra straps under their T-shirts. All the boys had their hair, or wigs in some cases, tied up with scrunchies or ribbons in a ponytail or pigtails or braids or some fashion to keep the hair out of their eyes and off their necks.



"How come no one wears shorts?" I asked Lisa.

 

"Absolutely NO pants of ANY kind are EVER worn for ANY reason by ANY camper! Well except for" and she giggled, "panties. But that's different."



"Okay, okay--I get the message!" I replied sarcastically.



With that, she slapped me across the face. "Don't you speak to me like that SISSY BOY."



I said no more. I had gotten that message too.



As we walked around, many of the "Nancyboys", as Lisa called them, would stop what they were doing and gawk and giggle a little at me. But none taunted or teased me at all. I figured for fear of finding themselves in dresses and petticoats and diapers like me. I did envy them their clothes though, as perverse as it seemed.



With dinner time approaching, Lisa led me to the dining hall and we got in line for dinner. We got our food and carried our trays toward a vacant table. I felt so out of place in my ridiculous outfit but no one verbally teased me. Just gawking and giggles. Not even taunts when my napkin fell off my tray and I bent over to pick it up, again fully displaying my diapers and rhumba panties. But that did cause a fairly raucous laughter, as did my battle to sit down in my very full dress.



"You gotta learn how to be more Ladylike Stephie!" Lisa scolded.



I wasn't especially hungry and ate slowly, which was not my normal habit. Lisa finished before me and excused herself.



"I gotta call Ms. Roberts and ask her something." And with cell phone in hand, she got up and returnd her tray to the dishwashing area and made her call nearby it. I just picked at my food until she returned.



"Guess what, Little Miss Priss! Ms. Roberts has gave me permission to take you back with me to my camp for a slumber party with the girls in my cabin. We'll have such girly fun with you tonight!"



I cringed at the idea of it. But, at least I wouldn't have to sleep in a crib in the nursery I thought.



"Finish up Stephie. We gotta head back to the nursery first. They'll pack a diaper bag of things you'll need for your stay with us. Ohhhh, I can't wait to show you off to the girls. We'll have ever so much fun with you tonight!" She anxiously squealed.



A little too anxious to suit me.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls (The Movie)--part13



Carrying my diaper bag in one hand and holding Lisa's with the other, we walked a well worn path over the meadow to the girls camp--Camp Sunnyvale. The sun was low in the sky and would soon be setting. I wondered what this night held in store for me and shuddered, as I wrestled with my dress and petticoats for control.



As we approached "Hummingbird Cabin", which was Lisa's and situated in the middle of a long row of cabins, Lisa gave me a warning.



"Now Pumpkin, I expect you to be a very good little girl tonight and to do as you're told. Understand Sweetie Pie?"



"Yes Lisa." I moaned.



We stepped through a screen door and into a screened in porch and stood before the entrance door to the cabin itself.



"Give me your diaper bag and I'm gonna go in first and tell my girlfriends you're here. Then, I'll open the door and you'll come in with a big smile on your face and say--HI--MY NAME'S STEPHANIE. Then you'll curtsey to everyone. Got it?"



"I'm not gonna curtsey!" I rebelled.



An immediate hard slap crossed my face for the second time this day and made tears well up in my eyes.



"If you don't do as you're told Stephie, you'll get a lot more slaps only they'll be across your bare girlie fanny with a hairbrush. Understand?"



She went inside and closed the door behind her. Moments later, she reopened it and with much fear, I ventured in.



"Hi, my name's Stephanie." And I curtsied as best as I could, not really knowing how to perform that embarrassing, girlish gesture.



About a dozen or so girls swormed around me, like bees to honey, gushing over me. They played with my ringlets and sausage curls, fingered my hair ribbons, fluffed my petticoats. One bent me over to show off my diapers and rhumba panties. Comments about me abounded.



"He's absolutely adorable Lisa." said one girl.



"Precious! And recently permed. I can still smell it in his curls." another.



"Such a pretty dress!" still another.



"Need your diaper changed?" and so on and so on.



I was placed on a high stool with my butt on the seat, my dress and petticoats encircling me and the stool. Being short, my legs didn't quite reach the floor and dangled awkwardly. I managed to rest them on the front rung of the stool and someone giggled and said. "Girls keep their legs together when they sit sissy boy. But you'll learn." And I closed my legs.



Most of the girls seemed ready for bedtime, dressed in nities or pajamas or nitegowns or Teddies and such. Some had there hair set in curlers. All were quite cute actually.



One girl approached me and handed me a Sippy cup full of soda, which I nervously drank from. It tasted a little strange but I was thirsty. I would later find out that was due to a laxative that had been put in it.



The girls, innocently seeming, started asking me questions like how I liked being a little girl now or how I liked wearing frilly dresses and petticoats or I liked having my hair in ribbons and curls or what it felt like to wear wet, poopy diapers.



I responded with brief answers like "not at all" or "awful" or "horrible".



The final question came from a shy girl who had not yet spoken.



"Where are you from and where do you go to school?"



I hesitated and Lisa scolded, "Answer her Stephie."



I told here where I was from and the school I attended.



"Wow!" chimed the girl who had asked. "What a coincidence! Do you know Sally Jo Reynolds? She's my cousin."



I replied, "I really don't know her but I know who she is. She was in a couple of my classes this year."



Lisa then hushed the girls and looked at me and spook.



"You're gonna have such a fun time tonight with us Stephie and I'm sure we'll have a VERY fun time with you. Are you gonna be a good little girl for us?"



I nodded "yes".



"That-a-girl." she said with a devilish grin on her face.



Lisa contnued. "Now we're gonna make a little movie Nancyboy and you'll be the star of it. And I'll play your Mommy in it--well, in voice only, off camera."



One of the girls walked to a closet and took out a video camera on a tall tripod and Lisa explained further.



"And in the process of making our movie, you'll learn a much needed lesson in girlish deportment."



No way, I thought and jumped toward the door only to quickly be wrestled into submission by the girls.



"You just made a huge mistake Stephie!" Lisa said. "Hold him tight and bend him over girls."



I knew what was coming and started crying loudly.



"Turn on the camera Becky." Lisa ordered, as she pulled my diapers and rhumba panties down to my ankles and grabbed a hairbrush.



The girls gasped and then laughed at the sight of my bare bum.



"I know you're only 4 or 5 years old and still in diapers Sweetie, but do you think you can count all the way up to twenty like a big girl?"



I gave no answer and none was expected.



"Count off aloud each spankie you're given Stephie." And she whacked my fanny.



"Ahh--one!" I screamed in pain. "Ahhh---two!" "Ahhhh----three!" and so on until twenty was finally reached.



I was gasping for breath and couldn't stop crying from the pain--the pain from my burning, sore and, I'm sure, very red bottom. And from the pain of having such a humiliating thing done to me.



I was led to a corner with my diapers and rhumbas still around my ankles and made to stand facing it while holding the back of my dress and petticoats up to give a good view of my reddened behind to the girls and the rolling camera.



"Just stand there awhile Stephie and try to calm down and compose yourself." Lisa said, as she gave my butt a hard pinch to add more pain and insult.



"I hope we didn't em-BARR-ASS him too much!" joked a girl, and the others roared in laughter at her pun. But I certainly found none of it funny.



After what was probably only about 15 minutes, but seemed a lifetime to me, my diapers and rhumba panties were pulled back up and I was reseated on the stool.



 Lisa asked, "Well, you little pantywaist, are you ready to become a movie star now?"



I was broken now and nodded "yes".

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls (The Movie)--part 14

"Before we make our movie Stephie, you need to learn a few things about acting like a proper little girl." said Lisa.

Lisa spent the next half hour teaching me how to curtsey and sit correctly. How to daintily lift up the front and back of my dress and petticoats to expose my frilly panties. How to tilt my head at an angle while twisting a finger in the corner of my mouth. How to twirl my dress and toss my curls and blows kisses. An array of incredibly girlish gestures designed to make me appear as a prim and proper but precocious little girl, and to cause great humiliation for me.

While all this was going on, girls were busy setting things up for the movie. A few were busy scripting something with black markers on sheets of posterboard that sat on an easel. A couple worked on hooking up a Karaoke machine to a TV. Sarah fussed with the video camera for the perfect angle. The rest just watched me practicing my sissy moves and roared with laughter.

When I had reasonably mastered the art of little girlish behavior, I was seated back on the stool.

Lisa continued, "Now Stephie, our little movie is gonna be more of a music video. Isn't that exciting!"

I just sighed.

"If you try to fight us over it, you'll be very soundly spanked. Have no doubt that you are going to do this."

I wiped tears from my face with a tissue I'd been given as she went on.

"If you don't perform to your very best ability, like a sweet, precious happy little girl; we'll make sure that this video is seen by everyone at Camp Sissy Curls and here at our camp. AND we'll make certain that a copy finds its way to your school through Monica's cousin, Sally Jo."

Oh crap, they really had me over a barrel.

"If you do it well, then what happens in Hummingbird Cabin stays in Hummingbird Cabin. But if you do it poorly, then a ton of people will see it."

I wanted to run for the door but knew I couldn't.

"Time to rehearse the song your gonna sing with the Karaoke machine in the movie Steph."

She told me that the song I was going to sing was a rather obscure one from the mid 1960's by a group called "The Who". The group was vaguely familiar to me, remembering something about a boy and a pinball machine.

"The song is perfectly suited for a sissy boy like you." Lisa taunted.

The song was called "I'm a Boy" and it wasn't familiar to me. I was made to rehearse it with the Karaoke machine until I finally  got it right, after many tries. I could see from the lyrics why the song had been chosen. I guessed it was better than singing "On the Good Ship Lollipop" or "I'm a Little Teapot"--though only slightly better.

Next task was to become familiar with the lines I'd have to recite.

"Look at the cue cards on the easel Stephie. You'll read your parts from them, like Leno or Letterman does. I want you to just read through them silently to yourself three or four times to become familiar with them. Note the stage directions in the parentheses and the "mommy" parts I'll say off camera."

Many more tissues were needed as I silently read several times the excruciatingly embarrassing lines I was to speak.

"Okay Sweetie, let's roll the camera! And do your very best or a whole lotta people that you don't want to see this--WILL!" And Lisa sat herself off camera, but in view of the cue cards, to deliver her part as "mommy".

Two girls dried my face and freshened up my makeup and lipstick and primped my curls and adjusted my ribbons and poised my dress and petties around me and the stool.

"Don't cry and spoil your look Babydoll." Warned one of the makeup girls.

"Okay Stephie, legs together at an angle. Head up with a little tilt. Your finger to your mouth and------Oh!!! I almost forgot."

She placed a Raggedy Ann doll in my free arm and said "Open up and stick out your tongue."

She gently attached a small paper clip to the tip of my tongue. I wondered why on earth she did this. To my horror, I'd soon find out its purpose.

"If you flub up a part Steph, we'll rewind and edit and retape it. But don't make us have to do that too much or you'll be sorry. Now big smile, my pretty little sissy."

"Quiet on the set." Lisa called. "Ready Sarah. And lights, camera annnnddd ACTION!"