Braids and Beyond Parts 1-7
sissycaroline
It was the end of June, 1980 and the start of a much awaited summer vacation. My name was Carl and I had just turned thirteen and would enter eighth grade in the Fall. I lived with my mother (who had divorced my father years earlier) and my pain in the butt sister Ellie, who was sixteen. I was a small, scrawny, skinny kid. As was the fashion of the rock "hair bands" of the day, I had long, straight brown hair that reached to a couple of inches below my shoulders. My mother was always after me to get it cut and I was always resisting. On the first Saturday of vacation, she gave me money and told me to walk to the barber shop for a haircut. Instead, I walked to the mall for a movie and lunch. When I came home, she really blew her stack. She was so angry that she did something she hadn't done since I was a very little boy. Being a fairly large and strong woman, (and me, small and scrawny), she easily picked me up, carried me fighting and kicking into her bedroom and sat down on the chair in front of her dressing table with me across her lap. She then pulled down my pants and underwear, took her hairbrush and began mercilously blistering my bare bottom. As I screamed and cried and begged her to stop, she told me that this wasn't to be my only punishment. When my spanking was finally done, she stood me up, pulled up the underwear and pants over my bright red bottom and told me to sit on the chair, facing the mirror on her dressing table. As tears of pain and humiliation streamed down my face, she told me that she wouldn't fight with me anymore about getting my hair cut and I would have my way and keep it long. In fact, she informed me that I wouldn't be allowed to have it cut until further notice. However, she would be in charge of how my long hair would be worn, with no exceptions. She said that since I had long, "girlish" hair like a little girl's, I would wear it all summer, at all times, in a very little girl style. This was to be the rest of my punishment. She then picked up a rattail comb, deftly parted my hair down the middle in a nice straight line, and proceeded to braid each half into a long braid starting behind the top of each ear. She secured each braid at the end with a rubber band. She told me that if I complained about my new hair style or argued with her about it or misbehaved in any way or tried to undo my braids, there would be additional punishments centered around my new braided look. I was horrified, to say the least. Unknown to me, my rotten sister Ellie had been listening to everything from outside the bedroom, relishing everything my mother said and did to me. My mother told me I could leave and go to the bathroom and wash up for dinner. As I left the room, Ellie had a devilish grin on her face and said, "Love the braids Sis!"
Part 2
Dinner that evening was an absolute horror. My sister spent the whole time teasing me about my braids. "You look adorable in braids Sis" or "you need some hair barrettes and ribbons in your braids" or "how'd you like some "girlie" bangs across your forehead" were just some of her cutting remarks. I knew she was egging me on to trip me up and get me in trouble so I would receive an additional punishment. I think my mother was in on it too because she did nothing to stop Ellie from teasing me so. The final straw was when Ellie said "mom, I don't think that Carl is an appropriate name for such a pretty little girl. I think we should call him Caroline from now on." I pounded my fists on the table and shouted to Ellie to "shut the f--- up and leave me alone." Mom hit the ceiling. She grabbed hold of one of my braids(a control factor that she would use a lot in the future) and pulled me over to the sink and told me to open wide. She placed a bar of soap from the counter into my mouth and told me to keep there until she said otherwise. With tears streaming down my face, she pulled me by my braid back to my seat at the table and told me to sit there like a "good little girl" while she and Ellie finished their dinners. "A nice mouthful of soap will help cure your potty mouth Caroline," she said. Mom's use of the name "Caroline" made me shudder. Ellie was beaming with delight over what she had caused to happen to me. While I sat there, I wondered if this was one of the "additional punishments" she had mentioned earlier. But it couldn't be because those punishmnets were meant to last all summer long. I knew she couldn't keep a bar of soap in my mouth all summer. It wasn't long before I found out what the additional punishment was to be. After dinner was done and the dishes were cleared, mom once again took hold of one of my braids, told Ellie to follow, and pulled me into her bedroom (soap still in my mouth) and seated me in front of her mirror. She then undid my braids allowing my hair to hang loose. I hadn't a clue what she was up to. She went to her closet and returned with a box full of medium sized pink clip-on hair rollers. She asked Ellie to assist her and Ellie, of course, happily complied. They both proceeded to very tightly wind the pink rollers in my hair bringing tears to my eyes from the pain and the extreme humilation it caused. My mother told me to pay close attention to how they were setting my hair because in the future, I would be setting my hair like this each night. This was to be my first "additional punishment"--setting and wearing rollers in my hair to bed each night. When my head was covered in the awful pink rollers, a pink hairnet was placed over them to help keep hold them in place. They had not used any kind of setting gel or even water because the purpose wasn't to really curl my hair (mom was well pleased with my "braided" look). The purpose was to further humiliate me as a girl. Ellie gushed, "Oh, don't you feel so girlish now Caroline!" I struggled to not hit her. The soap was removed. I was then sent off to bed, thankful that they hadn't made me wear a nitey or some such thing. It took forever to fall asleep. Not surprising given the humiliating events of the day and the pain and discomfort of my rollers. As I layed there, I wondered how I would be perceived in public or how I could explain my new look to others. I couldn't stay in the house all summer, and mom wouldn't allow that anyways. At least, my rollered head wouldn't be seen in public, I hoped. I rationalized to myself that people might think that I was going for a "Willie Nelson" look or at least I could explain it that way.
Part 3
Waking the next morning after a fitful sleep, my thoughts focused on my pink rollers and hairnet and the discomfort and embarrassment they caused me. My second thought was that it was Sunday and I hoped my mother wouldn't want to go to church. I was never eager to go to church but especially not in braids. I headed for the kitchen for some breakfast. Mom and Ellie were at the table eating theirs. I sat at the table to have some cereal. Ellie mockingly asked, "Did you sleep well Caroline?" "No, and don't call me Caroline. I'm not a girl," I replied. "Well, you must be a girl since your wearing rollers and a hairnet--CAROLINE," she gloated. I didn't press the issue for fear of receiving another horrifying punishment. After breakfast, mom told me to get dressed for church and then she and Ellie would remove my rollers and braid my hair. Crap! We were going to church. I dressed in my usual church clothes--slacks, dress shirt, and loafers and reported to my mother's room. Mom and Ellie removed my rollers and began braiding my hair. My mom told me to pay close attention because soon I would have to do the braiding myself. The thought of me, a thirteen year old boy braiding his hair made me feel like the biggest sissy alive. With my braiding finished, we left for church. During the ride, I thought again of how I would explain my braids as "going for a Willie Nelson look" if anyone asked why I was in braids. Ironically, I hated country/western music. At church, I was the recipient of many stares, giggles, and a fair number of wisecracks from kids. "Love the braids sweety" or "Ask your mommy to put some pretty ribbons in them" or "Mommy needs to get you a pretty dress to wear" were just a few of them. No one asked me why I was in braids but some adults asked my mom and she simply said to them that I was being punished for refusing to get a haircut. Riding home, she pulled into a drug store, took me by the hand (at least it wasn't a braid) and walked me into the drug store like I was a little girl. Ellie followed. We walked to the cosmetics/hair accessories area where she picked up a package of pink barrettes, two clip-on pink hair bows, makeup, mascara, eye shadow and liner, pink lipstick, and matching pink nail polish. She held them up to my face and said, "These are for your next punishment Missy, so you better be a very good little sissy!" She then gave me some money and made me go to the checkout and pay for them myself. The young girl behind the register giggled as she rang up the items. It was quite obvious to her that the girlish items were for me. I wanted to die. Tears started to trickle down my face. "I'm sorry I made you cry sweety, but they'll make you look so pretty," I heard her say as I exited the store. The humiliation was unbearable. Ellie, as usual, was grinning with joy over my embarrassment. Mom was silent. I cried like a little girl all the way home. Braids were bad enough but the thought of wearing pink barrettes and ribbons, makeup, lipstick, and nail polish was unimaginable. I couldn't let that happen to me. I figured that Ellie was probably thinking that she couldn't NOT let that happen to me. Arriving home, I went to my room to change into more comfortable clothes and sulk. On the way, I heard Ellie ask my mom if she could invite a few of her girlfiends over to listen to some new cassette tapes she had just bought. Mom said sure. Oh God, I can't be seen in braids by her friends, I thought. I figured I'd just stay in my room. Of course, I was wrong. Within an hour, they arrived. After a while, Ellie asked my mom if her friends could meet her new, pretty little sister. Mom thought that was a great idea. She knocked on my door and shouted, "Come out here please Caroline and meet Ellie's friends!" I shouted back, "No way in hell!" With that she burst into my room, grabbed a braid and pulled me past the giggling girls into the kitchen and inserted the bar of soap from the counter into my mouth. She then dragged a kitchen chair and me into the living room, told Ellie to get the hairbrush, put the chair down and sat in it with me across her knee and gave me another blistering, bare butt spanking in front of the girls. Despite the blistering assault to my butt, it couldn't be as red as my face was. Then she stood me up and sat me in the chair with my pants and underwear still down around my ankles and told Ellie to get the things we bought at the drug store. Naked from the waist down, I had to sit there in front of Ellie's friends. I was disturbed to discover that my little "Willie" was was getting a "stiffie". It didn't go unnoticed by the girls either. Jessica, a particularly pretty friend of Ellie's who I had actually fantasized about gushed, "Look at his little "girlie" weiner, it's getting hard. He's enjoying this!" How could I be enjoying this humilating treatment? Next, my mother surprisingly undid my braids. Then she took the hairbrush and brushed some of my hair down across my forehead. Ellie handed her a pair of scissors and she cut deep bangs across my forehead, just above my eyebrows. She redid my braids, fixed the pink barrettes into my hair and finished it with a pink bow at the end of each braid. Using tweezers, she plucked my eyebrows into a girlish curve and told the girls to get the cosmetics we bought at the drug store and put them to good use. An hour later, the girls had my face fully made up, including pink cupid's bow lips and matching nail polish on my fingers and toes. How could I spend the entire summer like this? "PLEASE GOD, LET THE EARTH OPEN UP AND SWALLOW ME!"
Part 4
I was stood back up and my underwear and slacks were put back in place. As mom was pulling them up, I heard Tiffany, another of Ellie's friends remark, "He sure has a little "girlie" wiener, no wonder his mom has him in braids and ribbons. She'll probably have him in petticoats and party dresses before long--at least I hope. He'd look so cute!" The girls all roared with laughter and agreement. Mom was silent but I saw a scary grin come to her face. From the neck up, I looked like a very prissy, sweet little girl. But from the neck down, I looked like the thirteen year old boy that I really was. What a conflict in terms. I felt like some kind of freak in a circus sideshow. As supper time was nearing, mom ordered pizza. Forty five minutes later, the doorbell rang. The pizza had arrived. Mom handed me money for the pizza and a tip and told me to go pay for it and bring it into the kitchen. I moaned and she glared at me. I knew I didn't dare complain and answered the door. The look on the delivery boy's face was one of awe and surprise followed by laughter. I handed him the money. He handed me the pizza. "Thanks cutey," he chuckled as he returned to his car. Would they ever ease up on this humiliation? Around the dinner table the girls all talked about typical "girlie" things but the hottest "girlie" topic was me, of course. After supper, it was decided that I should start setting my hair in my awful pink rollers. The girls would supervise, assist, instruct, and of course humiliate me all through the process. At my mother's dressing table, I fumbled with the rollers and struggled to place and wind them right. The girls insisted that they be properly placed and tightly wound (to cause me pain, no doubt). After an hour of this torture, the last roller was finally in place. Ellie handed me my hairnet which I carefully stretched over my rollered head. Mom stood me up and told me to take all my clothes off and said she'd be back in a minute with my pajamas. I begged her to let me undress in private but, of course, was denied. The girls giggled as my little "girlie" wiener and butt were again exposed to their ridicule. Mom returned with the pajamas but they certainly weren't mine. To my horror, she held out a very frilly, lacy, short, sheer, see-through pink nitey with a matching pair of bum-ruffled panties and told me to put them on. Anxious as I was to put something on, this sure as hell wasn't what I had in mind. "I can't, I can't," I sobbed. Mom's answer was, "Okay girls, help him into his nitey." They surrounded me and wrestled the pink panties on to me and while working the nitey down over my head and shoulders, my thrashing caused a rip in it along one of the seams. I thought mom would blow her top again. But to my surprise, she remained calm. That seemed to cause everyone, including me, to be still. She told Ellie to get her sewing kit (I was glad it wasn't her hairbrush) and using a needle and pink thread, began mending the tear. As I stood there in the relative hush (mom sewing away), my "Willie" was beginning to get hard and was creating a large bulge in my sheer pink panties. The girls tittered like little school girls and I heard one of them whisper, "You're right Jessica, the little sissy does enjoy this." How wrong she was. As mom was finishing the repair, I thought about how this was the first time she made me wear girl's clothes and I hoped it would be the last. When the repair to my nitey was done, my mother told me to go into the living room and stand there and asked the girls to sit in a circle around me. As I walked to the living room, my throbbing "stiffie" bounced and dangled around as the girls tittered even more. Standing erect (in both senses of the word), encircled by the softly giggling girls, my mother told me that the rip in my nitey had, of course, earned me another punishment. My punishment was that tomorrow morning, she and Ellie would take me to the "Piercing Pagoda" at the Mall and have my ears pierced and have pretty, little girl earrings placed in them. Ellie's girlfriends were invited to attend. We'd be there at 11:30. The girls all clapped and laughed and agreed to definitely attend the "Piercing Party" as one of them called it. I just hung my rollered head in shame and cried. I was dismissed to bed and Ellie's friends went home. As I laid in bed, many thoughts ran through my mind like "I was now wearing a girl's nitey, would mom dress me up in petticoats and party dresses like Tiffany suggested" or "Ear piercing would leave permanent holes" or "My bangs weren't permanent but would take a long time to grow out, as would my arched eyebrows. How would I be able to go back to being a real boy in the Fall?" And most of all, I thought "How can I survive tomorrow at the Mall?" I prayed the sun would never rise. But it did, with a knock on the door and a call from my mother. "Wakey, wakey Caroline. I want you up early. You're going to do your own hair and makeup and, being your first time, it will certainly take a while. Up and at 'em Missy!" She sounded jubilant. I certainly didn't feel like that. After a breakfast for just the two of us, mom told me to go to her room and start removing my rollers. Ellie was up by now. After my rollers were removed, I was told to shower and wash my hair with a very "perfumey" shampoo my mom had given me and to use a creme rinse/conditioner that would make my hair shiny and tangle free. Like I really cared about that. I was warned to leave the conditioner in my hair for five minutes before I rinsed. I grudgingly did as I was told. When done, I put my nitey and panties back on. I figured that would be what my mother would want. Back in her bedroom, she seated me on her bed and towel dried my hair and then used a blow dryer to finish. Then over to the all too familiar dressing table for my braids. It took me many, many tries and a lot of help from mom to get my hair properly parted and the braiding was even more tedious and time consuming. Mom expected me to braid my hair as perfectly as she did. "I want your hair to be perfect for your new earrings," she gushed. Putting the barrettes in and the pink hair ribbons at the braid ends was simple enough. "What a sissy they've made me. I'm a boy putting pink bows at the end of his braids," I thought as we moved on to my makeup. The makeup was especially difficult. I did try hard and listened to my mother, but in the end, she wound up doing most of it. It would take a while before I could do the hair and makeup thing by myself. As I stood up to go back to my room to dress, she gave me a gentle swat on my behind and, before I knew it, she sprayed some perfume behind my ears. "My little girl needs to smell sweet for her ear piercing," she chimed. "Off you go Missy." It was good to get out of my embarrassing nitey and panties and into my regular boy's clothes, despite the conflict in terms with the way I looked from the neck up. On the ride to the Mall, I accepted the fact that I would be perceived as nothing other than what I was--not a boy--not a girl--but something in between. A GREAT BIG PATHETIC, SIMPERING SISSY!!!! I cried all the way there. With one hand in Ellie's and one hand in mom's, my head hung low with tears of shame pouring from my eyes; I was paraded through the Mall to the sounds of laughter, teasing, catcalls, giggling, name calling, awful wisecracks and looks of disbelief and surprise and scorn and finger pointing. I looked up as little as possible but I'm sure I saw some kids from my school a couple of times. I hoped they hadn't recognized me. As we walked to the "Piercing Pagoda", my mom stopped briefly in front of a small store called "The Party & Pageant Dress Boutique". A sign in the window said "We specialize in Party and Pageant dresses for girls of all sizes and ages". There were numerous frilly little girl dresses displayed in the window. I saw the same smile come to my mom's face that she had yesterday after Tiffany's remarks about dresses and petticoats for me. It made me feel sick to my stomach. We finally reached the "Piercing Pagoda" where all of Ellie's friends were waiting. They greeted us with cheers and applause and lots of giggles. My mother walked me up to the counter and said to the young girl behind it, "My son here would like to have his ears pierced and pick out some pretty earrings for them. Isn't that right sweety?" She really expected no answer back from me and I gave none. The sales girl laughed and said, "I can see why he wants earrings, they'll complete his pretty look." "Come along little girl," she squealed as she took me by my hand. Twenty minutes later, I was sporting a little gold heart in each ear. She gave me a lollipop for being such a brave little girl. Ugh!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was permanent and I was doomed. My ordeal wasn't over. Mom and the girls decided to lunch at the food court to celebrate my newly pierced ears and earrings and to show them off. A little "Piercing Party" as they called it. The humiliation seemed never ending and lunch was pure hell just like everything in the Mall had been. By the time mom and Ellie and I got home, I was totally drained and exhausted. It was still rather early but I begged mom to let me go to bed. To my surprise she said, "Sure Honey." Ellie even offered to help me remove my makeup and set my hair for me because I was so tired. It was the first sign of kindness from anyone since this all began. As I drifted off to sleep in my rollers and nitey, I wondered again why mom stopped at that dress store and had that "smile" on her face.
Part 5
Tuesday, day four of my girlish humiliation dawned bright and sunny with a forecast of temps in the mid eighties. My disposition wasn't as "bright and sunny". In addition to the pain of my rollers and the extreme embarrassment I had gone through in the past three days, I had a slight pain in my newly pierced earlobes. I laid in bed wondering what awful humiliations I'd be subjected to today. At the breakfast table, mom suggested that we all go to the beach today for some swimming and a picnic. Mom had a lot of time to spend with me and Ellie as she was an elementary school teacher and was on summer vacation like us. "Oh God, please not the beach," I thought. With breakfast done, mom sent me to her room for the now usual routine of roller removal and braiding and makeup. She helped me with my braids and ribbons and makeup and smiled as she fondled my newly pierced earlobes and earrings. "Don't you just love 'em?" she gushed. When my hair and makeup were complete, she told me to go to my room and get a beach towel and change into my swim trunks. I started crying. "What's wrong my little sissy Caroline? It's a great day for the beach." she cooed softly into one of my pierced ears. Ellie came into the room at the sound of my crying. "Mom, I can't walk around the beach in my swim trunks," I blubbered, "people might think I'm a girl going topless!" Ellie laughed and said, "Slim chance of that sissy, you don't have any boobies." "But," she added, "you might cause such a commotion that the park security might ask us to leave." Mom thought briefly about what Ellie said and replied, "I'm willing to take that chance. Go put on your trunks Missy." Ellie followed me into my room and offered a suggestion to me. "You know sis, if you wore a girl's bathing suit, you'd attract less attention. I have an old one from years ago that I bet it would fit you." She smiled with a menacing grin. "You'd have to have all your body hair removed though, not that you have that much. Hairy legs and armpits would be a dead giveaway." She continued, "I bet if you asked mom nicely, she'd let you wear my old suit." The idea made me cringe, but I could see the sense in it. I had no other choice. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. Dejected, I returned to mom's room and asked her if I could please wear one of Ellie's old suits. "A frilly nitey and panties and now a girl's swim suit. What's next Caroline? A pretty pink party dress and petticoats?" she asked, with that now all too familiar grin on her face. "No thank you please, mother," I respectfully replied. "You realize Caroline, that all your body hair, including your crotch hair, will have to be removed. "Yes mom, Ellie already told me that."
She pointed toward the bathroom and told me to run a bath and get in and she'd be there in a minute. I hated being naked in front of my mother and asked if I could do, myself, whatever she was going to do to remove my hair. "Nonsense silly, I used to change your diapers," and she paused with that grin on her face. "Besides, I can do it much more effectively and quickly than a little girl like you could." She covered my entire body with some kind of cream solution that had to remain on me for five minutes. When the time was up, she washed and rinsed it all off leaving me totally hairless from the neck down. Mom wrapped a pink bath towel around me and sent me off to her room. My smiling sister soon appeared with my suit in hand. "Isn't this just absolutely scrumptious Caroline?" she squealed as she held it out for my inspection. It was hideous! It was a two piece pink suit with white polka dots. The pants part of it had a large ruffle, almost like a skirt, all around the waist and there were three rows of smaller white ruffles across the seat of it. It SCREAMED little girl. Sensing my dismay from my frown, Ellie snickered, "Sorry sis, it was the only one I could find." (Yeah right, I thought) "It's either this or your boy's trunks young lady." mom admonished, "Besides, it'll look adorable on you." (sure, if I was a five year old little girl) I had no choice and mom and Ellie knew it. Mom removed my towel and pulled the frilly bottom up to my waist. It seemed to fit fairly well--with one exception--the bulge in front (and I didn't even have a "stiffie"). "My, but that won't do. Little girls don't have bulges in their suit bottoms," said mom. She reached into the suit bottom and tucked my wiener up between my legs. I was mortified. That seemed to solve the problem but my little "willie" wouldn't stay in place. Ellie had the solution. She ran to her room and quickly returned with what looked like a pair of her white panties. It was actually a very brief pantie girdle. Once in place under my suit, the problem was fixed. "There, nice and smooth in the front like a little girl should be," exclaimed mom. The top was put on me, as well as a pair of Ellie's sandals that nicely displayed my pink toenails. I was ready. (yeah right) All that was left was for mom and Ellie to get ready and pack a picnic lunch. While I waited, I pondered the upcoming day's events with fear. As much as I hated my girlie bathing suit and my braids and ribbons and everything else, I counted on them to help me pass as a girl and avoid the awful humiliations I experienced at the Mall. With everything finally ready, mom handed me a pink "Smurfette" beach towel with a matching pail and shovel (great--I can dig a hole and crawl inside) that had belonged to Ellie, and we were off. On the way to the beach, we stopped at Jessica's house to pick her up. Ellie had invited her along. (God, she was gorgeous in her bikini!!!!!Yeah right--no chance for a sissy like me in braids and ribbons and panties to get anywhere with a babe like her.) She took a look at me and laughed, "Very cute sweety!" At the beach, thankfully, I didn't get a huge number of stares, but did get a few "questioning" looks from some people. I was small, but not small enough for the age I appeared to be. And I still resembled a boy in some ways and of course, had boyish mannerisms and too deep a voice. There was probably some question in their minds as to whether or not I was a real girl, but they were kept to themselves. But it was certainly better than the horror at the Mall. And the only biting remarks came from Ellie. The charade seemed to be working reasonably well. When I asked mom if I could go swimming, she said sure, but I wasn't to put my head under water and ruin my hair and makeup. As a precaution, she took two hair clips from her purse and attached my braid ends to the top of my head creating two large braid loops. For some reason, this made me feel even more girlish than I already felt. She told Ellie and Jessica to watch me, as she was going to take a walk along the boardwalk on the beach. I waded out to waist deep water and Ellie and Jessica soon joined me. Together we splashed and played a little and chatted a bit. I was enjoying their supposed friendliness. They were actually being nice to me but I was soon to discover that it was all just a trick. Jessica, unknown to me, maneuvered around behind me and she stuck her arms under my armpits and pulled up and held my arms behind my head. I was helpless and there weren't any swimmers in the water near us to see my plight. Then Ellie stuck her face in mine and ranted, "So, you pathetic little pansy, you think you can fool everyone into thinking you're a real little girl. Well, let's just see about that." And with that, she reached under the water and quickly yanked my suit bottom and pantie girdle down and pulled them off. "Pansies get panced!" she laughed as she and Jessica raced back to shore with my suit bottom and girdle. After ten minutes of crying and feeling very cold from the chilly water, I bit the bullet and raced like a bat out of hell to my "Smurfette" beach blanket on the shore. As fast as I was, there was still plenty of time for everyone to see the prissy little girl who had a wiener between her legs. I wrapped up in my blanket to the familiar sounds of laughter and humiliating wisecracks and endless teasing. I heard one woman say to her husband, "See George, I told you she was a boy!" A little girl giggled to her mommy, "Why does that girl have a pee pee between her legs?" Mom, mercifully, returned before too long and upon discovering what the girls had done to me, only mildly scolded them as if it was simply a little, innocent prank. She did suggest, however, that we leave quickly before park security got wind of it. And thankfully, we did. On the ride home, I was so mad that I just didn't care any more. I yelled and screamed and swore at mom and the girls and told them I wasn't going to take this "sissy treatment" crap any longer. They all remained silent until I finally stopped ranting, just as we pulled up to Jessica's house. After dropping her off, mom calmly said, "It was just a harmless prank Caroline." "The f--- it was!" I shouted and I began bawling my eyes out. As we approached the house, mom told me what I had already expected. "Well Missy, you've earned yourself another punishment." An hour later, I laid in bed in my nitey and rollers with the taste of soap in my mouth and my butt on fire and the usual tears and tried to suppress my thoughts about my trip tomorrow to THE PARTY & PAGEANT DRESS BOUTIQUE.
Part 6
"Run, sissy boy, run!"---"Hurry home to your mommy, little girl!"---"Don't mess your pretty dress or your mommy may spank you!"---"Don't cry precious, your mommy will redo your braids and ribbons!" I ran from the taunting, jeering bullies as fast as I could, given the pink patent leather Maryjanes I was wearing and the voluminous white petticoats billowing under my pink satin little girl's party dress. I finally reached the front door of my house, only to discover to my horror, that it was locked. As I screamed in panic, one of the bullies............"Oh, thank God," I thought, as the morning sun peeked through the shades of my bedroom window. "It was only a dream, or nightmare, I should say." I wondered if it could be a sign of things to come. I prayed not. I heard mom call in a rather harsh tone, "Get up sissy boy, we have a lot of shopping to do this morning." I sighed and teared up remembering my punishment---a trip to THE PARTY $ PAGEANT DRESS BOUTIQUE at the Mall. I realized my nightmare was already on course to becoming reality. As I dragged myself from bed to the kitchen for breakfast, mom glared at me and said "Hurry up and eat Caroline. I want to get to the Mall early." Mom was obviously still very angry at me from yesterday. With breakfast done, she sent me to her room for roller removal and said that she and Ellie would do my braids and makeup themselves. "I want your hair and makeup to be absolutely perfect for our shopping trip." Rollers removed, mom told me to bathe and wash and condition my hair. When done and dried, mom and Ellie set to work on me with a vengeance. Hair perfectly parted down the middle, they meticulously braided my hair to the point of making sure that each braid had the exact same number of twists in it. Instead of the clip bows, mom took out two pink satin ribbons that she carefully tied at each braid end, making sure to leave a few inches of ribbon dangling below the bow. Barrettes in place, they carefully did my makeup adding extra blusher (as if I'd need that on my already red, from embarrassment, cheeks). With new pink polish on my fingernails and toenails, and a spritz of perfume behind each ear, I was sent to my room to get dressed. "Wear a nice button down shirt, your tan slacks and a belt, and your loafers." mom said as I left her room for mine. As I finished dressing, I feared this might be the last time I'd wear these or any boy's clothes for the rest of the summer. My stomach churned at the thought. Leaving my room, mom and Ellie hurried me into the car (they were eager to get to the Mall) and off we went. Few words were spoken. I felt like a condemned man walking to the gallows. As we reached the Mall, I braced myself for the incredible humiliation, embarrassment and degradation I would soon suffer. One hand in Ellie's and the other in mom's, I was again paraded through the Mall to the same taunts and jeers and laughter and giggles I had received just a few days earlier. When we reached the Dress Boutique, mom paused briefly at the store window display. Eyeing the ultra-frilly little girl dresses, she grinned. I knew now, without a doubt, what that grin had meant. I'd soon be wearing one of them, or one even more sissyish. As we entered the store, I was pleased to see that it wasn't very busy. Two girls about Ellie's age were browsing and looked up at me in total disbelief. "God, what a pansy he is." one said to the other, who then looked at me and chuckled, "Hope you find yourself a pretty dress "girlie-boy!" A very cute little girl in blond sausage curls and ribbons was looking through a rack of pageant dresses with her mother. She spied me and asked, "Mommy, why does that boy have braids and ribbons? Is he here to buy a pretty dress like me?" As we walked past her, Ellie whispered to here, "He sure is honey." Soon a matronly looking woman, about my mother's age, approached us and introduced herself. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Brinkworth, the owner, how may I help you ladies--er--uh--folks, I mean." Ellie giggled slightly at the way she had struggled with the word "ladies". As Mrs. Brinkworth eyed me with astonishment, mom proceeded to tell her in great length. "My son is wearing braids and ribbons and makeup and earrings for the entire summer as a punishment for refusing to get a haircut. I now feel he needs the appropriate clothes to go along with his girlish hair and face. To that end, I want to buy him the most outrageously frilly and lacy little girl's party or pageant dress, preferably in pink. Lots of ribbons and bows and ruffles. Very full in the skirt to allow for multiple white petticoats. The skirt of the dress should definitely be above the knee and have a long sash that ties in the back. Puffed sleeves are a must. Mom paused to catch her breath. "I want him to be the prissiest, sissiest, frilliest little princess in the world." Mom paused for another breath and continued, "He'll need all the appropriate undergarments--voluminous white, stiff net petticoats that will make his dress flare out almost horizontally to the ground. Frilly, highly ruffled rhumba panties to peek out from under his dress. Lacy white anklets and a training bra and, of course, patent leather Maryjanes to match his dress. A matching purse would be great too. Can you help us?" Mom was exhausted after her lengthy description as was Mrs. Brinkworth after listening to it. I wasn't exhausted, just very sick to my stomach at the thought of "prancing" around in public in such a frilly, girlish "concoction". I started to cry and hung my head in shame. Mrs. Brinkworth replied with a smile, "I'm sure we can help you Madame!" "Splendid." mom said with a grin. "Let me get my tape measure and shoe measure and we'll get her--er--uh--him--uh "the" measurements we need. After I was measured from head to toe, Mrs. Brinkworth and mom searched the racks of dresses and about twenty minutes later, they returned with two identical dresses, except one was pink and the other was light blue. Incredibly, both dresses had virtually every detail my mother had asked for, including matching purses. My mother asked me which one I wanted, pink or blue? I sobbed "Blue." "Great!", she laughed, "Then PINK it shall be. What do you think Ellie?" "Definitely pink, it's the favorite color of little girls." she chimed. Mrs. Brinkworth also agreed with the choice because she had the perfect Maryjanes to match the dress. Next, all the undergarments mom had asked for were gathered. Again, they met all of mom's requirements. One hand in mom's and the other in Mrs. Brinkworth's, Ellie following behind, I was taken to the dressing room for the completion of my "sissification". All of the "girlie" undergarments would be fitted to me first, of course. I was humiliatingly stripped to my birthday suit and the ultra-frilly, bum ruffled "rhumba" panties were pulled up. I started getting a "stiffie". Mrs. Brinkworth exclaimed, "Oh my, does he enjoy this?" Next came my training bra and anklets. At this point, to my absolute horror, Mrs. Brinkworth said we'd have to finish dressing me in the store itself. There wasn't enough space in the confined dressing room for four people and the voluminous petticoats and dress. "Don't make me go out in my girl underwear." I begged mom. But, non the less, moments later I was standing in the store in nothing but my bra and anklets and rhumba panties with my little "girlie" wiener "tenting" the front of them. More customers had come in and they laughed uncontrollably at the erect sissy boy before them. I was actually happy when Mrs. Brinkworth lowered the two massive white petticoats down over my head and around my waist. The petticoats were awful--very stiff (like me) and scratchy on my legs (which I couldn't even see because of them). They billowed out around me in a huge circle, almost parallel to the floor. They bounced and bobbed, swish and swayed and made a rustling sound with every movement I made. Mom made me twirl them for along time to enhance the effect (frou-frou, I think she called it). Through my tears I saw, probably because of the commotion, more people coming in to see the sissy boy swishing and swaying in his mountain of petticoats. Mrs. Brinkworth laughed, "Your son is great for business." Everyone endlessly laughed and cheered my humiliation. Finally, I was allowed to stop my twirling and taken to a chair to be seated to have my Maryjanes put on. I sat down and all my petticoats went up, exposing my panties in a sea of petticoat lace and ruffles. More roars came from the crowd. My Maryjanes were put on and my pink satin party dress was placed on me. Mom tied a huge sissy bow in the sash in back. Mom adjusted my braids and ribbons, wiped my eyes with a tissue, touched up my makeup and applied a fresh coat of lipstick to my cupid's bow lips. I was handed my little purse, which I fumbled with and dropped. I bent over to pick it up and there was even yet greater laughter. Someone in the crowd hooted, "Pretty panties prissy!" I realized my dress was very short and any bend caused my ruffled butt to be in full view. With my purse in hand, all I could do was just stand there, head hung in shame with non-stop tears streaming down my face. Surprisingly, a hush seemed to come over the gathering, but only for a moment. It was broken by the sound of applause for the completion of my "sissification". Now, I had to survive the walk back through the Mall to the car. Mom paid Mrs. Brinkworth and thanked her endlessly. Mrs. Brinkworth said, "Bring the little darling in anytime. We have loads of fashions and styles that the sissy would just love! And oh", she added, "don't forget the clothes he came in with. I'll get them." Mom grinned and replied, "No, don't bother Mrs. Brinkworth, just through them out please." She pointed me toward the door. I gulped!
Part 7
As we left the boutique, mom slid my purse handle up over my wrist and held my hand; Ellie held the other. Stepping into the Mall, the cool air felt good but I was surprised to feel it even up under my dress and petticoats. This disturbed me. It made me realize how "open" I was under my short dress and how vulnerable that made me. (I was soon to find out how right I was too.) We started my "death march" through the crowded Mall and back to the car. Walking caused my dress and petticoats to bounce and bob, and swish and sway even more, and the rustle of my petticoats to be even louder. Even the ribbons in my braids seemed to swish a little. The scratchy, itchy feeling of the stiff netting of my petticoats rubbing against my bare legs was annoying. With both hands held, I could do nothing to try to remedy these things. How could a real girl stand it? That made me wonder if anyone would think that I was a real girl. It wouldn't matter if they did. I'd still be a laughing stock because no girl my age or size would be caught dead in such frilly, sissy attire as mine. As I sashayed (mom's word) along, the usual teasing and taunting and laughter seemed increased. I became aware that mom was walking us in the opposite direction from where we had entered the Mall. When I pointed this out to her, she said, "Sweety, little girl's love to show off their pretty new dresses. We're taking the long way around to give you more time to do that, silly." Two girls walking toward us recognized Ellie from school and stopped to chat. They looked at me, covered their mouths and giggled. After introducing themselves to my mother, one of them asked Ellie, "Is this your little sister?" "No," she replied, "this is my little brother Carl, or "Caroline" as he now prefers to be called. He's always wanted to be a girl and has begged my mom for a long time to let him be one, right mom? (mom just grinned) So she's granting him his wish." Ellie added, "Though, I don't think that he was planning on being a little girl." "Well that's just so sweet!" said the other girl. And she put her face up to mine, gave my rosy cheek a tender pinch and said, "Well Caroline, you certainly ARE a very pretty little girl." I was furious and wanted to tell them that Ellie was lying. I started to speak, "My sister is---" Mom quickly cut me off saying, "Hush up young lady, nobody cares to hear what you have to say!" And she gave me a swat on the back of my dress. As the girls left, I heard one say to the other, "God, what a pathetic little pantiewaist!" As my tormenting "death march" continued, I became aware of the presence of people close behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw the grinning faces of two boys about my age. One winked at me and the other said, "Hi cutie." I turned back around, glad that, at least, I didn't know them. Moments later, the back of my dress and petticoats was flipped up, briefly exposing my ruffled panties. "Stop!" I squealed girlishly. As they made a fast getaway, they shouted back, "Love your pretty panties sissyboy!" Mom and Ellie giggled at my plight. They weren't about to interfere with any humiliating things that might come my way. And with my hands tightly held in theirs, there was no way for me to ward off any such assaults. Of course, that was part of the reason they held my hands. Finally, at long last, I saw "the light at the end of the tunnel". The exit was ahead. A newspaper vending machine was next to it and mom stopped to by one. She fumbled through her purse for some coins. (Come on mom, I want to get out of here, I thought to myself.) Finally finding some, she started plunking them into the coin slot. As she reached to take her newspaper, I felt a hand quickly reach up under the back of my dress and petticoats and into my panties. My bum was given a very hard pinch. I felt long nails biting into my flesh. "Owe!" I shrieked as the young woman responsible exited mumbling, "Sissy pervert!" Mom and Ellie just laughed. My next sensation was a warm, wet feeling in the front of my panties. Oh God! I HAD PEED MY PANTIES. The shock and trauma and pain of the pinch must have caused me to wet myself. I no longer felt like a little girl. Now, I felt like a very, VERY little girl! As we walked through the parking lot, I felt the pee trickling down my legs. As the car came in sight, I felt it trickling into my anklets. It was when we reached the car that mom and Ellie noticed. "Oooooooh Caroline." mom sighed, "You've wet yourself!" Ellie added, "What a little sissy baby!" And I sure felt like one and was crying like one. My "bawling like a baby" wasn't just because I had wet myself, though. It was also because of the next punishment I feared was in store for me.
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: Braids and Beyond by sissycaroline (Read 45164 times)
