Laundry by pj prettybutton

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Laundry (by pj prettybutton)Laundry (by pj prettybutton)

Username: member, Sep/29/2005 20:31:36 [-04]



      LAUNDRY by pj prettybutton



      When a dominant wife leaves her sissy husband at the laundromat in an

      outfit suitable for a toddler, his clothes are bound to get dirty.



      Chapter 1: Grown Man, Little Sissy



      It was a bright spring Saturday morning. P.J. Prettybutton would have

      loved to play, but he knew that Saturday was his day for chores. Perhaps

      if he did them well, Mama would spend play time with him later. He knew

      she had a date tonight. That meant the baby-sitter would be here right

      after supper, and she would mind Prettybutton for the rest of the evening.

      Perhaps there would be time to play with Mama in the afternoon.



      Prettybutton was a fully grown man, yet his wife dressed and treated him

      like a sissyish little child. His name had been Philip John (“P.J.”)

      Preston, but that was no name for a sissy. Mama let him keep his nickname

      to remind him of the man he once was, but christened him “Prettybutton”

      because that is how she thought of him -- a pretty thing no bigger or more

      powerful than a button. She made him call her “Mama,” and she made sure

      all his buttons were pretty.



      A child at heart, Prettybutton accepted the treatment, though he didn’t

      always enjoy it. He loved Mama very much and tried hard to please her.



      He washed and dressed quickly this morning. He knew that Mama was

      downstairs making breakfast. She expected him in his seat at the kitchen

      table as soon as he could get there. He put on his firm corselette first.

      He did up the hooks and eyes in front and zipped the garment closed. He

      blushed as he noticed how it had been altered. Mama had made him sew the

      bra cups shut and attach one pert little heart-shaped red button on each

      of the collapsed points.



      Next he smoothed on pink stockings and clipped them to the garters

      dangling from the corselette – three garters for each stocking. Mama like

      him to wear stockings. She wanted him to feel the strain and pull of the

      garters when he moved. She knew it reminded him of his sissified

      condition. She preferred stockings also because pantyhose slipped on too

      easily. Stockings had to be gartered, and garters were a bother. Fussy,

      bothersome tasks were good for sissies. When Prettybutton was a new sissy,

      Mama used to watch and giggle as he fumbled with the difficult clips in

      back. Unable to see behind him and unable to manage them without looking,

      he actually started to cry. Mama thought that was very funny -- a grown

      man reduced to tears by a silly little clip. If she was feeling

      particularly mischievous, Mama would wait until Prettybutton finally had

      attached all the garters. Then she would flick open the ones in back and

      make him do them again.



      Mama preferred stockings to pantyhose most of all because they displayed

      what Mama called Prettybutton’s “little bits and pieces.” Mama didn’t want

      the little things curled up in pantyhose. She wanted them to be accessible

      to her touch.



      Mama said he should have baby names for all his baby things, and his male

      parts were no exception. His pen-is was his “wee-wee.” It really was very

      small, but “wee-wee” would have been its name even if it hadn’t been. Real

      men and boys had pen-ises, said Mama. Sissies had wee-wees. Sissies were

      much too immature to be trusted with their wee-wees, and Mama had some

      very definite ideas about how to handle Prettybutton’s.

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Laundry (Part 2)Laundry (Part 2)

Username: member, Sep/29/2005 20:38:15 [-04]



      Chapter 2: A sissy accessory



      Mama had devised a little outfit for Prettybutton’s bits and pieces. She

      called it his “prettifier.” It had two parts. The first was a frothy

      ringlet of pink lace and ribbons, bunched together with elastic.

      Prettybutton place the ringlet over his pee-pee, extended the elastic, and

      gently lifted his sissy sac through the ringlet so that the lace and

      ribbon rested against his body, framing both the base of his wee-wee and

      his sissy sac.



      The other part of the prettifier was a doll’s white sock that slipped onto

      Prettybutton’s wee-wee. A bright pink elasticized terrycloth ring, of the

      type little girls use to hold their hair in place, ensured that the little

      sissy sock would not slip off Prettybutton’s wee-wee even when it was at

      its smallest. At the tip of the sissy sock, Mama had made Prettybutton sew

      a shocking pink pom-pon and, attached to that, a jingle bell so that he

      made a sweet little tinkling sound when he walked.



      After his prettifier was in place, Prettybutton stepped into a pair of

      old-fashioned ruffly white bloomers. They reached almost to his knees and

      buttoned up the side with little pink buttons. The bloomers and a matching

      camisole were trimmed with white lace and pink ribbon. There was a little

      pink bow at the hem of each leg of the bloomers and at the chest on the

      camisole. The bloomers had an open-crotch, which left Prettybutton’s

      prettified wee-wee and sissy sac on display.



      Prettybutton didn’t like his prettifier. It made him feel like a big baby.

      He knew he was a sissy, but he tried not to be a big baby. He really

      didn’t know the difference, though.



      Mama made him where his prettifier every day. It reminded him that his

      little bits and pieces belonged to Mama, not him. As long as he was in

      private or alone with Mama, he managed not to think about it. But in

      public he became intensely self-conscious. He knew anyone could hear him

      tinkle as he walked. Mama said he should take small, graceful steps, and

      he learned to do so, but the tinkling never went away entirely. He dreaded

      having to explain it. He knew that Mama might reveal this shameful aspect

      of him to others. More than once she had asked him with sweet, maternal

      concern, “Is Prettybutton’s pretty ringlet and sissy sock all snug and

      comfy?” To which Prettybutton was required to say, “Yes, Mama, I love my

      prettifier.” So far, Mama had never initiated such an embarrassing

      exchange within earshot of anyone else, (at least Prettybutton didn’t

      think so), but he knew she could. He tried not to think about what would

      happen if she did.



      Prettybutton’s blouse today was a simple one: long-sleeved in soft white

      cotton, with a big Peter Pan collar trimmed with delicate pink lace. It

      buttoned down the front with perky pink buttons. His pants were knickers,

      reaching just below the knee. They, too, were white. They were

      high-waisted and full cut, giving his hips a babyishly full shape and

      leaving enough room for his sissy sock to tinkle as he walked. The

      knickers buttoned up the side with the pink buttons matching the ones on

      the blouse.



      Prettybutton buckled on his black Mary Janes, popped on his pink schoolboy

      cap, with its abbreviated brim and full crown, and hurried downstairs.

[BetBots]

Laundry (Part 3)Laundry (Part 3)
Username: member, Sep/29/2005 20:53:41 [-04]

      Chapter 3: Breakfast And Chores

      “Good morning, Mama,” Prettybutton said in his sweetest tone of voice as
      he paused at the threshold of the kitchen. Daintily holding the billowy
      folds of his pants, he bobbed a curtsey.

      “Hi, sweetie-kins,” said Mama, not looking up from the stove.

      Prettybutton curtseyed again, sat down on his chair, and tied on his own
      bib, as Mama had shown him. It was only a little bib, suitable for a
      little child or even a baby. Prettybutton had embroidered it himself in
      the cross-stitch Mama had taught him. Three pink hearts and two daisy
      chains framed the message: “Sweet Little Baby.” Small and decorative, the
      bib provided little protection, but protection was beside the point.
      Prettybutton had to wear the bib because it was babyish and cute, and like
      all his clothes, he was required to keep it clean. He knew from bitter
      experience that a bare-bottom spanking awaited him if he spilled on his
      clothes or bib. Mama was very consistent about that. She said it reminded
      him to be the sweetest little person he could be.

      Breakfast passed quickly. Mama questioned him about how he had slept, and
      Prettybutton proudly reported that he had been well-behaved. In bed he
      clutched his teddy bear with both hands to make sure that his hands never
      went in a naughty place.

      Kitchen cleanup was Prettybutton’s job. Mama replaced his bib with a
      pinafore, and soon Prettybutton had the kitchen tidy and clean. Next came
      dusting and vacuuming, both downstairs and upstairs. After that,
      Prettybutton cleaned his own room and the adjoining little pink bathroom.

      When he was finished with his chores, he came downstairs again and perched
      on his special little stool near the back door in the kitchen. This was
      the place he was always expected to be if he didn’t have other
      instructions. His sewing basket was there. Mama insisted that he always
      keep busy with sewing when he wasn’t otherwise occupied.

      Prettybutton reached for his latest project, a baby bonnet he had been
      making under Mama’s supervision. It was all white, with lace edging around
      the brim, embroidery on the cap, and a little white ribbon tied in a bow
      on the back. One task remained: attaching a wide white ribbon to allow the
      bonnet to be tied under the chin. Prettybutton had already pinned the
      ribbon in place, from one side to the other over the top, with ties left
      dangling. All that remained was the sewing.

      Prettybutton liked to do most of his chores, but he was still afraid of
      the one assigned for today: doing laundry at the laundromat. Prettybutton
      rarely left the house. When he did, it was always with Mama and usually in
      the car, where few people could see him. When people did see him, they
      would stare and sometimes laugh. Prettybutton didn’t like that, but with
      Mama there to protect him, he felt safe. When they went to the laundromat,
      she would leave him alone there. Nothing had ever happened, but he was
      still afraid. Sometimes Mama brought his teddy bear so that he could have
      something to cuddle while she was gone. Prettybutton wanted to cuddle it
      but was too afraid. He thought people would tease him if they saw how
      babyish he was.

      Prettybutton hadn’t been sewing long when Mama brought down the laundry
      from the hamper in the big white laundry basked and announced it was time
      to go. Because it was still chilly this morning, Mama buttoned him into a
      pale pink jewel-necked cardigan. The buttons were the same little red
      hearts that adorned his bra cups. On the left front of the sweater, he had
      embroidered his name in red with a pretty design of red and blue flowers
      around it. Mama buttoned just the top two buttons of the cardigan
      underneath the big white collar of the blouse. Then she marched
      Prettybutton out the door to the car.

[Anonymous]

PJ asked me to post the rest of this story which he very kindly shared with me. PJ will feature in the Nursery soon. All this story is written by PJ Prettybutton and I have not changed it at all. It is one of my favorites.

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

As usual, there weren’t many people in the laundromat at this still early hour of the morning—just two teenage girls on the other side.  Prettybutton felt their eyes on him as Mama led him to a machine.  He was sure he heard the girls giggle.  He didn’t dare look at them.  He plopped the laundry basket on the machine.

“Do three loads,” Mama instructed, “one white, one dark, and one delicate.  You know which clothes go where.”

“Yes, Mama,” said Prettybutton quietly, hoping no one else would hear the childish way he addressed her.

“Work on your baby bonnet while the clothes are washing,” Mama said, handing him his sewing basket.

“Yes, Mama.”  He wished she hadn’t mentioned the bonnet.

“I’ll be back in 90 minutes to pick you up.  Be sure everything is nicely folded in the basket.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Do you need to tell Mama, anything?”

“No, Mama.”
“Do you need to make wee-wees?”

“No, Mama.”  He felt himself blushing crimson.  This time there was no mistaking the laughter from the teenagers.  There were more shrieks than giggles.

Mama seemed oblivious to it.  She pressed her finger under his chin to tilt his face up toward her.  She looked at him kindly.  “Will you be a brave little Pretty-b and not be afraid?” 

“Yes, Mama,” he said, feeling not very brave at all.

“Now kiss Mama good-bye,” she said.  He puckered up his lips and closed his eyes, as she had taught him.  She kissed him gently on the lips, then on the tip of his nose, and then on each eyelid.

“Bye-bye,” she whispered.  He opened his eyes to see her waving from the door.  “Do wavies for Mama!” she called.  He held up his arms at his elbows and wiggled his fingers, as she had taught him.  He couldn’t bear to think of the girls.

They were laughing again, of course.   And now there was no one left to protect him.  Mama was gone.  Prettybutton felt very little.

“Do you need to make wee-wee?” one of the girls said in a mocking voice.
“No, Mama, I’m a big boy now!” the other answered.   More laughter.   Then the girls made horrid kissing noises and laughed again. 

He dared not look up.  Mama had instructed him to be polite to strangers, but he didn’t know how to be polite when he was being teased.  He went about sorting the laundry into the machines and tried his best to ignore the girls. 

When he had loaded all the laundry and started the machines, he found himself with a problem.  To finish the sewing on his bonnet, he had to sit down, but the only seats were near the girls.  Worse, they girls were sitting on top of some machines and facing the seats directly.  He didn’t want to start any more teasing by approaching the girls, but he had no choice.  He crept over to the seat farthest from where they were.  They watched him.  He raised his head and smiled as best he could.  They smiled back with sparkling, mischievous eyes.  He took the bonnet out of the basket and began sewing.  His hands trembled as he felt their eyes on him.

“Such a good little boy,” said one.   Her voice seemed almost friendly this time.

“And so pretty,” said the other.  “That cap frames his face so nicely.  And those Mary Janes are perfect for him.”

Prettybutton smiled shyly in spite of himself.  He peeked.  Two dark-haired pretty teen-agers looked back at him.  They wore jeans and T-shirts.  Feeling shy again in his girlish clothes, he looked down.  One girl hopped off the machine and sat next to him, as if his glance had invited her over.

“May I sit next to you, sweetykins?”  She did not seem to require an answer.  Her companion remained perched on a machine.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” the girl next to him asked softly.  “I’m Maddy and that’s Andie over there.”

Prettybutton could feel Mandy almost touching him.  He was very shy around strangers, particularly anyone who showed interest in him.  He wanted to hide behind Mama, but Mama was gone.  He wanted to suc-k his binky, but he didn’t have one.  He wished he could suc-k his thumb.

“My name is PJ Prettybutton, ma’am,” he managed.  He knew they would laugh at his sissyish name.  Everyone did. 

“What a perfect name for you,” said Maddy, stifling a giggle.  “You’re very sweet, and I love all your pretty buttons.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” 

“We’ve been wondering about something,” said Andie.  She paused.  The sissy kept sewing, but his hands were trembling again.

“Are you a boy or a girl?” 

Yet again the girls burst into laughter and Prettybutton blushed scarlet.  He had just begun to hope they would be nice to him, and now they were being cruel.  He tried desperately to hold back his tears.  He knew that crying would only make matters worse, but he couldn’t bear to be teased.  He looked down sadly.

“I’m sorry, honey,” said Andie, stil laughing merrily.  “It’s just that you are the biggest sissy I’ve ever seen.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” PJ admitted.  He tried to continue sewing, but his hands were shaking too much.

“Oh dear, now we’ve scared him,” said Maddy.  She stroked him gently on the leg.   She kissed the tip of her index finger and planted it on the tip of his nose.  “Don’t be afraid, sissy,” she said softly. 

Prettybutton shivered.  “Is prissy buttons chilly?” she asked.
“Not ‘prissy buttons,’” Andie corrected.  “’Prettybutton.’  Although he is kind of prissy, isn’t he?”

“Whatever,” said Maddy, buttoning the rest of his sweater.  “We can’t have a chilly sissy.” 

Prettybutton offered no resistance.  He was used to being handled like a doll.  Mama said that’s what he was: a sissy baby doll for ladies to play with.  She said he should feel proud when anyone found him amusing.  Prettybutton didn’t feel proud.  He felt vulnerable and frightened but also a little excited.  He did like being fussed over, even if it was a little scary.  He wished the girls would be nice to him.

Maddy was fussing over him and being very nice.  “Such a sweet, pretty sissy,” she cooed in his ear.  Then she kissed his cheek.  She cupped his face in her hands and turned it to her.
“Now I have a little errand to do,” she announced, “so you stay right here until I come back.   Make sure he doesn’t run away, Andie.” 

The girls snickered.  Everyone knew the shivering sissy wasn’t going anywhere until his Mama fetched him

[Anonymous]

Prettybutton’s heart was pounding.  The girls were so strong, so forward.  He didn’t know what they might do, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.  He saw Maddy leave and walk toward the supermarket.  She turned around and waved as Mama had.  



“Do wavies, sissy” she instructed, just as Mama had.  He shyly did his “wavies” in return.  



Still perched on one of the washing machines, Andie resumed the conversation.



“What are you making, Prettybutton?”



“A bonnet, ma’am.”



“It’s very sweet.  Is it for a baby?”



“Uhh . . . yes, ma’am.  It’s a gift.”  He couldn’t admit to this person he didn’t even know that Mama was having him make a baby bonnet for himself.



“It looks too big for a little baby,” Andie said.



Prettybutton felt her eyes on him.  He couldn’t bear to look up.



“I think it’s for a very big baby, isn’t it?”



“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, his cheeks reddening.



“It’s for you, isn’t it?”



He blushed as hotly as ever.  Mama had trained him never to tell a lie, but sometimes it was too hard to be truthful.  â€œYes, ma’am,” he murmured finally.



“So it’s not really a gift at all, is it?”



“No, ma’am.”



“You told a lie, didn’t you, sissy?”



“Yes, ma’am.”



“Does your Mama punish you when you tell a lie?”



“Yes, ma’am.”



“Well, then I will, too.”  Her tone had gotten harsher.  There was no doubt she would have her way.



“Stand up and come here,” she commanded.  He shuffled toward her, head hanging.  â€œLook at me.”  He did but only for a moment before his eyes sought the floor.



“How do you think you should be punished?”



“I don’t know, ma’am.”



“Well, then I’ll just have to decide myself, won’t I?”



“Yes, ma’am.”



“I think I have just the right punishment for you.”



She took the bonnet from his hands, removed the cap from his head, and replaced it with the bonnet, tying the ribbons tightly under his chin in a big bow.  



Prettybutton felt weak with humiliation and dread.  No matter how shameful his sissyish clothes were, wearing a frilly baby bonnet was somehow much worse.  He started to whimper, but a sharp look from the girl silenced him.  



“Now I want you to apologize,” she said.  â€œI want you to say:  â€˜I was naughty.  I told a lie.  I’m only a silly sissy.  Please forgive me.’  Go on, now.”



Surprisingly, perhaps, the apology came easy to the sissy, perhaps because it was similar to apologies he had made in the past.



 â€œI was naughty.  I told a lie.  I’m only a silly sissy.  Please forgive me, ma’am.”



 He grasped the billowy sides of his pants and executed a little curtsey.  



Andie grinned.

 â€œThat’s very nice.  Now keep apologizing and doing that little curtsey until your washes are finished.  Don’t you dare stop.”



Prettybutton did as he was told.  He curtseyed after each repetition of the apology.  Even though he was at least ten years older and six inches taller than Andie, he accepted her authority completely.  He continued just as before when she left to go to the bathroom.   Concentrating on the apology, he managed not to think of how silly he looked---a grown man wearing a baby bonnet and girlish clothes, cursteying and apologizing to a washing machine.

[Anonymous]

Chapter 5: A Fine Mess

“I’m back,” Maddy announced. 
Andie looked up from the magazine she was reading.   Prettybutton was still curtseying and apologizing.  Maddy smiled.  “Looks like prissy buttons met his match,” she grinned.  “Here, let me get a look at you,” she said, turning him to face her so that she could see his bonneted face.

She clapped her hands with approval.  “Oh, it’s absolutely precious!” 

Grasping the two sides of the bonnet, she pulled him toward her. 
“Itsy bitsy prissy buttons,” she cooed.

Her tongue darted out and licked his nose.  Prettybutton started to whimper.  Maddy held tightly to the bonnet.  Her face remained inches from his.

“Oh no, you can’t get away from Aunt Maddy, sissykins, can you?  Is prissy buttons anxious?  I thought you might be, so I got you a little something.”

She produced a pink pacifier and held it up to his face.  Prettybutton whimpered again.  It was bad enough they were making him wear his bonnet, but he couldn’t bear a pacifier, too.  Sullenly, he kept his mouth closed.  Maddy was not to be dissauded. 

“Doesn’t baby want his binkie?  Doesn’t baby like his binkie?  It’s such a nice binkie. . . .”  Maddy popped it in her own mouth, suc-ked vigorously for a moment, and held it up again, this time with a glistening glob of saliva on it.

Prettybutton shuddered.  Surely, she wouldn’t. . . .  His eyes widened with alarm.

“Does baby want his binkie now?  Of course, he does!  Every baby need a binkie!” She pinched his nostrils shut, and before he knew it, the teat was in his mouth.

“There, isn’t that better?  A nice slippery, slimy binkie for baby.  Nice suc-ky-suc-k noises; I want nice suc-ky-suc-k noises, prissy buttons!”

Prettybutton almost gagged on the saliva-soaked teat.  He was a prissy sissy.  He kept himself sweet and clean and pretty for Mama.  He felt secure that way.  The spittled teat in his mouth made him feel violated.  Yet he did not resist.  He couldn’t.  He was conquered, and he liked to be conquered.

 He suc-ked obediently.  The nipple soon felt better, soothing.   

The girls looked on approvingly.  “Looks like this sissy knows how to use a binkie,” Andie observed.

Maddy agreed.  Grasping the bonnet, she baby-talked him again.  “Yes you do know how to suc-k a binkie, don’t you?  Yes you do!  Yes you do!”  She licked his nose again. 

Instinctively, Prettybutton reached out with his arms.  He wanted a hug, and she obliged.  He wanted so badly to feel safe. 

Of course, he wasn’t safe.

It wasn’t long before the girls had become more intimately acquainted with their new-found sissy friend.  There was a trip to the bathroom to unbutton his pants and explore his underwear, much to Prettybutton’s consternation and the girls’ delight, particularly when his prettifier came into view. 

Down came the bloomers.  Stockings were rudely unclipped and panty girdle tugged down to hold his knees tightly together.  While Andie held him firmly around the waist from behind, Maddy flicked his little sissy sock to ring the little bell at the end.
 
“Tinkle, tinkle!” said Maddy.

“Let’s make him tinkle!” said Andie.
 
Off came the sock and Prettybutton was made to do wee-wees, sitting demurely on the toilet seat while he was still bonneted and suc-king his pacifier.
 
Prettybutton tried to resist at first when the girls first hustled him into the bathroom, but a smartly pinched ear put an end to that.  He didn’t want to be unbuttoned by these rough, insistent girls, but he knew he couldn’t stop them.  He secretly rather liked it, too.  It was scary but exciting to be ravished.
 
His little sissy thing stirred after he did wee-wees.  Giggling, the girls stroked it.  Then, just before it erupted, on went the sissy sock for a thorough soaking.  Up came the panty girdle, the bloomers, and pants, all pulled snugly in place so that a tell-tale stain leaked through.

Discovering the discarded stockings after the pants had been raised, the girls decided to relocate them.  They unbuttoned his sweater and blouse and rudely stuffed them in his bra cups.  Every sissy should have a little cleavage, Maddy explained.

Ten minutes later a prim and properly buttoned sissy was back at work, folding laundry.  The bonnet was back in the sewing basket, the pink cap back on his head.  Blouse and sweater were neatly in place, Peter Pan collar prettily displayed.  The pacifier was buttoned through its ring onto one of the side buttons of the pants.  The nipple peeked out.  PJ hoped it didn’t show too much.  He had similar hopes for the nasty yellow stain on the front of his pants.  He felt sticky and icky there.  He hated being messy.  He wanted Mama to change him, but he dreaded what she would do when she discovered his mess.
   
“What took so long?” Mama wanted to know when she returned.

The girls, busily folding their own laundry, pretended not to hear.

Prettybutton looked  helplessly at his savior.
 
“Oh Mama, I missed you,” he whimpered.  He began to cry again.  She folded him into her arms.  As he cried softly on her shoulder, he could not see her smile and wink at the girls behind him.