Camp Sissy Curls

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part29

That night after dinner, where I was treated much the same as at lunch, I again sat alone in the back of the aud for the movie. I was ostracized by one "camp" and I had self-ostracized myself from the other. My spirits were very low and the movie didn't help. It was the first night of a Shirley Temple Film Festival. There'd be a dozen or so nights of that awful "mop topped" little girl dancing and prancing about. And what made it even worse was the fact that she reminded me of someone---ME!

Halfway through the movie, Chrissy appeared and sat down on the floor next to me. Like always, she twirled a curl. And she whispered in my ear. "Hi my sweet sissy."

She smelled great and having her next to me picked up my spirits a bit.

She whispered in my ear again. "I know you're feeling really low and I'm gonna help "perk you up". Tonight after lights out, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes after, very quietly get up to use the bathroom. Then slip into my room. We'll celebrate your recent birthday. And be sure to wear the birthday present you got from home under your nitey."

"How did you know all that?"

"Shhh." And she put her finger across my lips. "Just be there Sweetie."

Later that night, showered and teeth brushed and wearing my new panties and bra set under my nitey, I sat on my bed winding the last of my rollers in my hair. And I smiled a little as I thought of how Chrissy would "perk me up."

The lights went out and about fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of Chrissy. She was wearing a very sheer white Teddy and she looked incredibly hot. She sat me on her bed beside her.

Finger to her lips, she whispered, "Shhh! We have to be very, very quiet. The walls are awfully thin."

I felt myself "perking up" in my panties as she continued to whisper.

"You look so precious Stephie in your new panties and bra that you.."

"How did you know about that and my birthday?" I interupted.

"Shh!!!! Your birthdate is on your camp registration form and I was the one who took delivery of your package and put it on your bed. And I do have to admit that I peeked into your dresser when you weren't around and saw them."

Then she kissed me on the lips, long and hard, and stuck her tongue into my mouth. When our lips unlocked, she gave me a loving smile.

"First kiss, right Steph?"

My blushing face was her answer.

"Well, we can't take a lot of time Sweetie. And I want to give you a birthday present that will make you feel a lot better after all that mean old Lisa did to you today."

"But how did..."

"Shhh," She cooed, "I have my ways."

And she stood me up. She smiled at the great "tent" in my panties and she pulled them down to my ankles.

"And Stephie," She whispered, "It's okay to leave it in my mouth when you--you know."

Again it seemed like it would be gross for her. But whatever "paddled her canoe" was okay with me. And the birthday present she gave me that night was REALLY okay with me.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part30



The next morning as I sat on my bed thinking about Chrissy's birthday present and taking out my rollers, I noticed beads of sweat running down my forehead. It was 8:30AM and it was already quite warm out. By afternoon, it would be a "scorcher". I knew my heavily petticoated dress would make it even hotter for me. I groaned. I so envied the other boys their light and simple skirts and tops.



As I started to dress, I looked at the extra petticoat hanging on my clothes rack that Lisa had put on me yesterday. She had said nothing about me wearing it every day. I'd be a little cooler and a much happier  camper without it. But no, I thought. She'd have a fit if she saw not wearing it. And I was determined to mind my "P's and Q's" around camp in the hopes that I would soon be promoted to the clothes that most of the other boys wore.



It was "pink gingham" for me today. I sighed as I smoothed and arranged the skirt of my dress over the mountain of bouncy petticoats. I hated having my dress almost parallel to the ground and having my underthings so exposed. But I had no choice.



I sashayed (a word unknown to me before yesterday--but one that I knew aptly described my walk) to breakfast. There were lots of giggles and titters as I made my way to the cafeteria. But I was getting used to it.



My voluminous outfit actually was a bit of an advantage standing in the breakfast line. My poufie dress created a very large circ-umference or perimeter around me, like a fence of lace. So I had to be given a lot of space and I didn't have boys pushing and shoving up against me. But I did have my dress lifted up a few times for a "look see".



At the table, I ignored the others as best I could and talked as little as possible. It was even warmer in the cafeteria and I wiped the sweat from my forehead with a napkin. It was then that a light bulb went on in my head. Swimming--I should go swimming this afternoon. I hadn't tried it yet. It would be a perfect way to keep cool and I'd be able to spend time out of my sissy dress and petties.. Perfect idea I thought.



Now there was one good thing about the camp. It didn't have a lot of structured time. Not a lot of scheduling. Occassionally, there'd be scheduled programs or activities or demonstrations that all campers had to attend. But, for the most part, campers were allowed to pick and choose what they wanted to do. So I was free to swim if I wanted.



After breakfast, to keep cool and to try and avoid others, I spent the remainder of the morning under a shady tree coloring in my coloring book. I had nothing else to do and it occupied time until lunch.



As soon as lunch was over and sweating heavily, I made a beeline for the pool.



Seated at a desk in front of the pool locker room was a cute girl in pigtails wearing a Camp Sunnyvale top.



"Hi, I'd like to go swimming please." I said.



"Sign in here then sweetie." And she pointed to a clipboard.



"Ah--my real name or my new name?" I asked.



She laughed. "The name you go by here at camp."



It would be the first time writing my "new" name and that posed a little bit of a problem for me.



"Umm--how do you spell Stephanie?" And I really didn't have a clue.



She giggled, "S-T-E-P-H-A-N-I-E!"



And I wrote as she spelled.



"You can spell your last name, right?" She added to tease, but not in a mean way.



She looked at the clipboard. "Well Stephanie Crandall, this must be your first time swimming."



I shook my head up and down.



"Joanne," she called to another Sunnyvale girl, "will you take over the desk while I get him squared away?"



Then she took my hand. "Well follow me Stephanie Crandall." And she led me to a vaccant locker in the locker room.



"What size are you Stephanie?"



"What do you mean?" I asked.



"What size bathing suit do you wear?" She replied.



"I--ah--don't know." And I was feeling pretty stupid by now.



But she seemed kindly enough and she giggled again. "Well do you know what size your pretty dress is babydoll?"



That I knew. "Size 12," I said proudly.



"Okay, that'll work. Take off all your clothes while I get a suit and things for you."



"All!!" I asked.



"Yes-ALL!" And she smiled. "You've got nothing I haven't seen many times Stephanie. Put your underthings and sandals in the locker and hang up your dress and petticoat on the rack over there. We can't muss up such a pretty outfit."



A few minutes later, she returned with an armful of stuff for my swim. I was naked but at least my little soldier wasn't saluting. It was still limp from Chrissy's birthday present the night before.



She held out in front of me a garment that seemed awfully strange. It kind of looked like a Jockstrap but it wasn't one.



Sensing my curiousity about it, she said, "This is called a gaff. It'll make you nice and flat and smooth down there." And she pointed to my crotch. "Girls don't have a bulge in their bathing suits down there."



She giggled a little. "But it shouldn't be too much of a problem to take care of."



I blushed.



She pulled the elastic waistband of it open and said, "By the way, I'm Bonnie."



"Hi Bonnie." I replied.



"Now tuck your little weiner and sack down and back between your legs and hold it there while you step into this."



This was all quite embarrassing but I did as she said without an argument. She pulled it up around my waist and my little "thing" was completely hidden. The front of my crotch had a flat, smooth "V" shape to it.



Next was the suit.



"How old are you Stephanie?"



I was a little surprised by the question. "I just turned thirteen a few days ago."



She chuckled, "I mean here at camp, Sweetiepie."



"Oh, sorry. I'm five."



She grinned. "That's what I figured so I got the perfect suit for you."



It was a two piece suit of pink with white polka dots. Very much suited for a little girl. It had two or three rows of white ruffles across the seat and a large white ruffle around the waistband that almost looked like a short skirt. And the top was equally frilly. Pink flip-flops were next.



With the bathing suit on, I was beginning to think that maybe my idea to go swimming was a bad one.



"Now we have to protect your pretty curls honey." Bonnie said as she pulled out the next item of my swimming gear. "There's a lot of chlorine in the pool and it'll wreak havoc on your perm and Ms Roberts will have a fit."



Bonnie held up what seemed to be a "heavy duty" pink shower cap. "A regular bathing cap would crush your curls."



As she placed it over my hair, making sure that all my curls were tucked inside, she warned, ""Don't you dare go under the water or get your hair wet at all or you'll be in a heap of trouble Babycakes."



I nodded "yes" and figured I was ready. I headed for the door.



"Hold up there Stephanie. Not quite ready yet."



As if all this wasn't bad enough, Bonnie next produced two "Littlest Mermaid" floaties and snaked them up and around my arms. Then she hung a "Littlest Mermaid" beach towel on my left arm and put a plastic pail and shovel in my right hand.



"There's a big sandbox next to the pool that you can play in if you want."



Then she gently gave me a little swat on my ruffled fanny and said, "Off you go Sweetie. Have fun! But remember--don't get your hair wet."



As I walked to the pool area, I REALLY began to think this idea was a bad one. I didn't expect to be so "little girlishly" outfitted for my swim. I knew I'd stick out like a sore thumb among all the other boys who'd be wearing teenage girls bathing suits.



The bright sunlight blinded me briefly as I stepped from the locker room to the pool area. I held a hand over my eyes and closed them for a moment.



When I opened them, I saw that the pool was pretty crowded. And I saw, of course, that I was the only five year old little girl there. A real "sore thumb".



I headed toward the shallow end. I was hot. And I was sweating a lot. But more from embarrassment than the temperature.



As I walked, the swimmers stopped and gawked at me and giggled and laughed quietly. They really didn't say much though. They couldn't. Teasing and taunting would get them in trouble.



But I did hear one boy say, "Do you want some help little girl?"



I couldn't tell if his question was genuine or not and I ignored it.



I found an open beach chair, removed my flip-flops, and set my towel and bucket on it.



The cool water felt very good as I stepped into the shallow end. I waded about thinking that everything was so unfair here at camp. Unfair in the sense that, I was a boy swimming in a pool with dozens of other boys who had pigtails and ponytails and braids and were wearing girls bathing suits. But I was the only embarrassed one! But then, I was the only one decked out like a five tear old little girl. To them, I was a freak--a sore thumb.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part31



I continued to wade in the shallow end. I didn't dare to actually swim, for fear of getting my hair wet and suffering the wrath of Ms Roberts. I closed my eyes in an effort to blot out all the others around me and to just enjoy the coolness of the water.



When I opened them, I saw two boys who were paying particular attention to me. They almost seemed to be circling me, like two sharks around a man lost at sea. I sensed trouble and tried to move away from them. But they kept at me.



One called to me. "Need some help little girl?"



When I turned toward him, the other quickly got behind me and pulled the shower cap off my curls.



"Give it back!" I yelled to him.



"Come and get it little girl!" He shouted back.



I moved toward him and he tossed it to the other boy, who also shouted, "Come and get it little girl!"



This went on for three or four "rotations" until one of them didn't throw it hard enough and it landed nearby me and I was able to grab it. I shook it and wrung it, to get as much water out as I could. But this distracted me enough to allow one of them get behind me. He quickly put his hands on my shoulders and pushed my head under the water. He managed to hold me under for a few moments with one hand and he used the other to totally muss up my curls.



When I emerged from underneath the water, one of them called to me. "Oh, sorry that we ruined your pretty curls little girl. But another  permanent will fix that."



All I could think to do was run. I got out of the pool as quickly as I could and I ran to the chair that held my stuff and grabbed it and ran into the locker room.



"Whoa Sweetheart!" Bonnie said as she put her arms up to stop me. "What happened to you? I told you not to get your hair wet and just look at you! Your curls are ruined."



I was too upset to say anything. I just cried like the little girl I appeared to be.



She took my towel  from my hands and started to dry my hair and tried to console me. "Did some nasty boys do this to you sweetie?"



I gasped and sniffled and nodded my head up and down. I felt just like a little girl being comforted by her mommy. And it didn't feel right.



Then she dried my face with the towel and wiped my nose with a tissue from her pocket. I shuddered at how "little girlish" I felt . And I shuddered at the thought of what Ms Roberts would do when she found out that my perm had been ruined.



"Calm down honey." Bonnie whispered in my ear. "I'll help get you dressed and you can head back to your cabin. A new perm tomorrow will fix you up like new."



The thought of another horrid permanent didn't console me at all.



Redressed and settled down somewhat, I made my way back to Sugar Plum cabin in tears. Nobody was there, not even Chrissy--though I wouldn't have minded having her there to comfort me.



I looked in a mirror in the bathroom. My hair was a total mess. I got my curlers and tried to remedy the situation with them but soon found it was hopeless. So I just laid on my bed and thought about what Ms Roberts would do and cried myself to sleep.



I awoke to the sound of boys coming into the cabin. The clock on my dresser said 7:46PM. I'd slept through dinner, though I didn't care. I had no appetite.



When they saw me, they gasped at the sight of my hair.



"Whoa!" Said one. "Somebody's gonna be in big trouble tomorrow."



Before long, Chrissy came in. She sat on my bed and ran her hand across my cheek. "I heard what happened Sweetie and I know it wasn't your fault. But you'll need to see Ms Roberts tomorrow morning and you'll certainly need another permanent."

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part32



The next morning, I woke up a little before "rise and shine" time. I just laid there, running my hands through my very tangled, fallen curls. I hadn't set my hair the night before, there was no reason to. I wondered what the day would hold for me. Another permanent, I knew for sure.



When the wakeup call came, I dressed in my "uniform" of the day--yellow gingham with the extra pettie. I did absolutely nothing with my hair. Not even the matching bow to my dress. That would be pointless.



I headed for breakfast. The morning was sunny and bright and a little cooler than yesterday. I was glad for that, at least.



As I passed the administration building, Chrissy was just leaving it. She was carrying a cardboard box of something in her hands. She just gave me a forlorn little smile and waved.



As I approached the cafeteria hall, I saw a large, over-sized playpen under the shade of a maple tree near the entrance. And it held two occupants. Getting closer, I realized that the two occupants were one year old, little baby girl campers. I wondered why they weren't in the nursery.



A small crowd of boys was gathered around the playpen and the crowd was totally silent. Not a word. The babies suc-ked away in misery on their pacifiers. Their red, swollen tear filled eyes stared downward under their frilly baby bonnets. Their lavish white baby dresses and petticoats ballooned about their very bulbous rhumba panties. I caught the scent of pee soaked, poopy diapers in the air. At almost the same time, they both glanced up just for a moment. They were the boys who had dunked me in the pool. They were there to serve as an example to others.



As I waited in the breakfast line, I smiled. There was "justice in the jungle". Though I did feel a little pity for them.



During breakfast, not a word was spoken about me and my hair. And nobody spoke at all about the two boys, lest they might find themselves in similar circ-umstances.



Leaving the cafeteria, an announcement came over the camp loudspeaker system. "Stephanie Crandall, please report to Ms Roberts' office."



Here it comes, I thought. But then thinking again, Ms Roberts obviously knew that the two boys were responsible for ruining my hair.



Standing in front of her, I curtsied and she bid me to be seated on a stool in front of her desk.



She began.



"Stephanie, I'm going to be brief and to the point. You're to only listen carefully and NOT speak. Understand?"



I nodded my head up and down.



"You know that I am aware of what happened at the pool. And you know that the two boys who dunked you are being severely punished. They'll be kept as little baby girls for two weeks, longer if they don't cooperate. They are responsible for your ruined hair. But you are not guiltless. You are responsible for the circ-umstances that led to your dunking."



I started to tear up as she continued.



"Why on earth you decided to go swimming on your own---well, I just cannot understand."



"But, but...I"



"Be silent Stephanie. You're only to listen!" She admonished.



She continued. "It was a very foolish thing to do. Though it doesn't excuse the two boys, you set yourself up for something like that to happen. And you deserve to be punished too."



I gulped and I just totally cried.



"Now go back to your cabin. Chrissy is there waiting for you. She'll get you ready for your permanent."



I stood up, curtsied, and said only, "Yes Mam."



Walking back to the cabin, I wondered what Ms Roberts meant when she said "she'll get you ready for your permanent". And I tried NOT to wonder about what my punishment would be.



Back at the cabin, Chrissy sat waiting for me on my bed. No one else was there. The box I'd seen her carrying earlier was next to her.



"I'm so sorry to do this to you Steph," she sighed, "but I need to get you dressed for your perm."



"But why can't I just get it like this?" And I held my arms about my dress.



"Ms Roberts' orders. Now please don't make this any harder. Strip down to nothing."



I started to undress while she began removing the contents of the box.



"Oh God no Chrissy." I cried as I saw them.



"Hush sweetie. It'll be alright. It'll all be over by tonight."



What exactly "it'll all be over by tonight" meant was unclear to me. And the garish clothes that now laid on the bed made no sense either. All I knew for sure was that it would be awful for me.



Less than an hour later, I was standing in front of Ms Roberts in her office again. I was crying uncontrollablely.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part33



My unruly hair was stuffed under a large, wide brimmed white hat that was tied under my chin in a big bow. No makeup of any kind, except for just a hint of red lipstick.



I was wearing a puffed long sleeve blouse of shiny, light blue velvet. It had a large, very embellished frilly white collar and cuffs to match. The blouse fed into fairly tight fitting, zipperless, blue velvet short pants which were cuffed in white lace. They reached to just above my knees.



Below my knees were white silk stockings with bows at the top. My shoes were black patent leather Mary Jane style pumps with a slight heel. Gold buckles adorned them. They had little metal cleats on the heels and toes.



A large white sash, tied in a garish bow at one side, served as a belt.



"You look perfect Stephen. You're all set to get your permanent." Ms Roberts said as she stepped from behind her desk and approached to get a closer look at me.



I still couldn't fathom why I'd been dressed like this just to get a perm. How could it matter what I wore? And why did she call me Stephen?



Standing in front of me, Ms Roberts continued. "You, young MAN, are very fortunate to be wearing what is called a "Little Lord Fauntleroy" suit. They were very popular in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Loving, doting mothers often dressed their weiner curled sons in them. My own Grandmother regularly dressed my late Father, who founded this camp, in one. They were quite the rage back then. And I even broke my own rule of no pants for boys ever, just so you could wear one."



Yeah--great, I thought. I'm so lucky to be wearing these pants.



"Well, it's time for your perm." And she took my hand.



As we left her office, we didn't head for the small salon here in the building where I'd been given my first permanent. Instead, we walked toward the exit. I started to panic. And I really began to panic when we headed for her van in the parking lot. And I started to pull away from her.



"Don't fight me." She warned. "Or do you want me to put you across my knee?"



As we reached her van I cried, "But where are we going?"



"Be quiet Stephen and accept your punishment. Or I'll make it even worse. Now get in the van!"



We got in the van, buckled up and she locked the doors and started it up--leaving in in park though.



And she explained. "The nanny who runs the salon here, the one who gave you your first perm, sadly had a death in her family. And she's gone and won't return for several days. So I made an appointment for your perm at a beauty salon in the Mall.



"No!!! I won't go." And I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed the door latch. But the child proof locks stopped me from getting out.



Then she slapped my face hard and yelled. "Don't you dare cross me sissy boy! Now buckle up and SHUT UP!" And she put the van in gear.



I now fully understood my awful punishment. I was to be permed in public as a very "sissified" boy. And I couldn't bear the thought of what was about to happen to me.



As we drove, all I could do was whimper.



Ms Roberts handed me a tissue and in a softer, gentler tone said, "Now listen to me. I know you very much want to be dressed like the other boys. And that's very admirable. I also know you've been trying very hard to behave and to do as your told."



And she paused for a moment and giggled slightly and chuckled. "And you've even kept your panties dry and clean."



That was the first sign of any emotion, other than anger, that I'd seen from her. And she continued.



"Before the pool incident of yesterday, I was considering promoting you, before long, to the status of a teenage girl. Just like most of the other boys. And despite the pool incident, I'm still willing to consider it. But only if you take your punishment like a MAN--well, a young man at least. If you don't fight me and argue and carry on, you could find yourself, not immediately but before too long, in simple skirts and tops and thirteen years old instead of five."



"Really!" I simpered.



"Yes, REALLY. I truly mean it."

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part34



I tried, as best I could as we drove along, to blot out in my mind the impending extreme humiliation I'd soon be facing. It would not be unlike my first trip to the Mall with Lisa. I'd be an obviously very sissified boy. No hiding behind the guise of a little girl. It would be absolutely clear to all that I was a boy in a very sissy outfit getting his hair permed. Of course, that was the intent of my punishment. I focused on taking my punishment "like a man" so Ms Roberts would consider letting me dress like the other boys at camp. And, after all, I was very experienced in being put in very embarrassing and humiliating situations. This would be no better and, hopefully, no worse.



I grit my teeth and looked down to the floor as we entered the Mall. I was horrified to discover that my cleated shoes made a very loud "clickety clack" sound with each step I took on the stone tile flooring. If anyone, by chance, happened to not notice me, my noisy shoes would certainly announce my presence. Ms Roberts knew all the tricks.



As she held my hand and walked me along to the beauty salon, I was surprised to not hear a lot of taunting remarks. Instead, for the most part, only gasps of surprise and disbelief at the spectacle of me. People, understandably, seemed to be very caught off guard by the sight and sound of "Little Boy Blue" prancing down the Mall.



It was different though at the salon.



Standing at the counter, Ms Roberts very matter of factly said, "Hello, I have an 11 o'clock appointment under the name of "Roberts" for a permanent for this young man here." And she put her arm on my shoulder.



The beautician just stared in awe at me, her mouth wide open but saying nothing. After a moment, she managed to speak.



"You want a PERMANENT for this---ah--boy?" And she outright laughed, as did all the others in the salon.



Ms Roberts untied and removed my white hat as she replied, "Yes please. As you can see, he's made a mess of the perm he received just a few weeks ago."



The place exploded in laughter. I was crying, but determined to get through this "like a man", so to speak.



"Well, um---follow me ladies---ah---um---Just come with me please."



"What a sissyboy!" and "Look at the pansie!" and "A real pantywaist!" and "Nice outfit Nancyboy!" and "How could he let himself be dressed like that!" and "Pervert!" These were the things I heard as I was taken to the styling chair.



Ms Roberts seemed to take it all in stride. "Pay no attention to them Stephen. It's okay to be a pretty boy." And that caused even more jeering and laughter.



I was seated in the styling chair. A pink cape was put around me.



Ms Roberts told the stylist, "I think his hair is long enough now to have nice long wiener curls cascading down to his shoulders."



The stylist gulped. "You want him in long wiener curls???"



"Well, it's really what he wants. Right my pretty boy?" Ms Roberts said.



I just sobbed and said nothing, as the salon just roared again in laughter and disbelief.



The stylist giggled and said, "Okay, then wiener curls it is for your pretty boy!"



A little over an hour later, I sat under a hairdryer near the front window of the salon in my long perm rods. Passers by gawked and laughed at the sight of the "pretty boy" getting a permanent. At least, I couldn't hear them.



About forty five minutes later, my white hat was carefully placed atop my head. Twenty or so long, thick wiener curls dangled down from under my hat to just passed my shoulders.



I "clickety clacked" my way out the salon and down the Mall to outrageous laughter and taunting.



About half way out, I stopped and whispered to Ms Roberts, "I need to use the potty please."



I really did need to pee badly. I certainly didn't want to have an accident and suffer the consequences of that.



Ms Roberts led me to the restrooms. I really was not eager to go into the Mens Room looking like I did. But the Ladies Room wasn't an option for me now and I didn't want to wet my pants and end up in diapers again.



"Take your time Stephen." Ms Roberts said as she let go of my hand.



That was the LAST thing I wanted to do though. In and out as quickly as possible was my goal.



The Mens Room was pretty busy and exploded into laughter and teasing as I entered.



Only one urinal was open, between two boys about my age.



"Nice outfit and pretty wiener curls sissyboy." Laughed one. "Are they supposed to match the wiener between your legs?"



As I reached into my blue velvet pants to do my business, the other boy said, "He probably doesn't even have one anymore!"



I was so embarrassed. I peed and got out of there quickly.



"Next time, I think you should use the Ladies Room you little Fairy!" I heard from someone as I left.



As we headed out the Mall, Ms Roberts told me. "That was wise of you to use the restroom Stephen."



It was awful, but she was right. It was a wise thing for me to do.



In the van, as we drove, she took out a small bag from the tote she'd been carrying. "These are extra long rollers for your lovely wiener curls. I got them at the salon. Every night, just tightly roll each separate wiener curl in one before bedtime and put on your hairnet. That'll keep them in shape."



Back at camp, I again stood in front of Ms Roberts in her office. My "Little Lord Fauntleroy" suit and hat had been replaced with my gingham dress and petties and matching hairbow.





"You did well this morning Stephanie. I trust you've learned to take good care of your pretty hair! Here's your rollers."



I curtsied. "Yes Ms Roberts."

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls--part35

A few days later, just before lights out, Chrissy announced to the cabin that tomorrow would be a good time to start thinking about and begin working on letters to home inviting parents and families to an upcoming parents weekend.

"Make your letters happy, cheerful and positive girls! And I have to screen them before they're mailed." She said.

When the lights went out, she walked to my bed and whispered, "Ms Roberts will want to read yours Stephie."

I drifted off to sleep thinking that I would have to make my letter VERY "happy, cheerful and positive" to score points with Ms Roberts.

After breakfast the next day, I grabbed paper, pencil and a clipboard and headed for a shady tree on the recreation field. It was sunny and warm and it would be a good opportunity for me to start my letter.

As I sat there thinking about what to write, Felicity, the "Wannabee" whose bed was next to mine, sat down beside me.

"Working on your letter Stephie?" He asked.

"Yeah. Gotta make it good so I can score some points with Ms Roberts and, hopefully, get outta these silly dresses and petticoats soon."

"I understand, but I almost wish I was wearing them!" He said.

"Well not me!" I replied.

"You know," Felicity continued, "if you want to score even more points with Ms Roberts---tomorrow, all day in the recreation center, girls from Sunnyvale will be teaching classes on makeup and hair styling and manicures and girlish deportment and stuff like that. And it's all stuff you should know anyways, if you ever get to be a teenage girl. I'm going."

I thought briefly, "Yeah, thanks Felicity. I'll see you there."

She left me to my letter. Just as I started to write, I heard in the distance, "Hi Stephie!"

I looked up. At the edge of the recreation field I saw Lisa and Sarah. I'd not seen them for awhile.

They were close enough that I could see an evil grin on Lisa's face. She said nothing more. She simply raised a hand and pointed her finger to a group of "Wannabees" who were busy playing Hopscotch and jumping rope. Her intent was clear.

I spent the next hour, until Lisa and Sarah were gone, jumping rope and playing Hopscotch and again making a spectacle of myself in my dress and petticoats.

With them gone, I got back to work on my letter. I started a rough draft and managed to finish it by lunchtime. I could make the good copy after lunch.

Walking back to the tree after lunch, I thought. "I'll use my very best penmanship. Make it very fussy and neat, like a girl would. I'll even dot my i's with hearts like girls often do. Maybe I'll even draw and color a picture at the of myself here at camp at the bottom. That'll impress Ms Roberts!"

The finished letter purposely read like something written by a seven or eight year old. And, of course, it was full of lies. But I had to make it sound glowing and positive. It read:

Dear Stepmother and Laura,

How are you? I am fine. I'm having a wonderful time here at Camp Sissy Curls and I'm making lots of new girlfriends. There's lots to do here but probably the thing I like to do most is playing Hopscotch and jumping rope with the other girls. And coloring in my coloring books too. Tomorrow, I'm going to take classes on how to do makeup, hair styling and putting on pretty nailpolish. Stuff like that. Really awesome. Just like a big girl. I can't wait.

I so love being a girl now. Boys are "yucky"! The best part is I get to wear pretty dresses and petticoats, but they're hard to control. But I'm learning. All my dresses even have matching hair bows.

I've even been given a permanent. That wasn't fun, but now I have nice, long pretty wiener curls.

I hope you can come to the parent and family weekend. It's the first weekend in August. It will be ever so much fun.

Your daughter,
Stephanie
xoxoxoxo

P.S.---I hope you like the picture of me I colored below in my pink gingham dress!

With all my i's dotted with hearts, I turned in my damning but necessary letter to Chrissy for review by Ms Roberts.