Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp) by sissycaroline

[BetBots]

This is a repost of a story that was lost by our bot cleanup sweep.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--parts 1-3 by sissycaroline



Part 1



Setting: Saturday, August 26th, 2006--moments after my arrival home

from Camp Sissy Curls--being held in my father's arms. Just where

part 64 of Camp Sissy Curls leaves off.



My father planted more loving kisses on my cheeks and then set me

down to inspect me more closely. He primped my curls and ribbons and

adjusted mt dress over my petticoats, much like any "mother" would do

to her little girl. He was a natural at it. But he was my "father"!

But then, I figured, he'd probably had a lot of practice at it from

when he was a boy my age in ribbons and curls and dresses and

petticoats.



"Oh Stephie!" He gushed. "You're just too pretty for words!" And he

gave me a look that, I swear, had a hint of longing and maybe even

envy in it. A fond look of rememberances of days past for him.



Then he interrupted his obviously nostalgic memories and said,

"Laura, will you please go upstairs to your room and play awhile?

Your mother and I want to have a talk with Stephie."



"Aw, do I gotta? I wanna play with Stephie." She replied.



"Yes, you have to." He said. "Off you go."



As she headed upstairs, father took my hand and walked me over to the

sofa. "Sit down honey. And be sure to sit like a proper little lady!"



Of course, I knew how to sit like a "proper little lady". But what

wrankled me was that my father probably knew how to sit like a

"proper little lady" too. It shed a whole new light on him. A view

that certainly made it easier to be a little girl in front of him.

And a view that explained a lot of things. But it also caused much

disappointment for me in him.



My father and stepmother sat in two armchairs across from me. My

stepmother spoke first. "Stephie, it's our intention to keep you as a

pretty little girl until further notice. But we're going to up your

age to eight years old like Laura. That's a more realistic age for

your size."



"But why???" And I put my face into my hands and sobbed. "Please let

me be a boy again! Please! Please!"



"Calm down Stephie." My father said. "It's for your own good sweetie.

Trust me, I know."



"But I want to be a boy again!" I cried.



"Relax Stephie." Stepmother interjected. "You'll get to be a boy too.

And soon. In about a week and a half on the Tuesday after Labor Day,

you go back to school. And you can't go back to school as a girl. You

have to go back to school as Stephen."



"Phew!" That was a relief I thought.



Dad continued. "So you see Stephie, at school you get to be my

thirteen year old son Stephen. But here at home and everywhere else,

you'll be a pretty eight year old little girl. The best of both

worlds! And Laura will have someone her age to play with."



"Yeah right. The best of both worlds." I muttered. It sounded so

awful but at least, I'd get to be a boy again when I was at school.



"But do I have to wear and use diapers?" I begged.



"Yes you do. But only when you're Stephie." Stepmother replied.



"ONLY when I'm Stephie!" I groaned. "But that'll be most of the time!

Why are you doing this to me?"



My stepmother was getting angry now. "Stop your complaining this

minute or we'll send you to school as Stephanie!!!"



That shut me up quickly.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part2



Dad looked at my stepmother. "Joan, let's get Laura back down here

and in on the conversation."



Stepmother got up and went to the stairs and called to Laura to come

back down. With Laura seated on the sofa next to me, dad continued.

"Laura, listen very carefully because your mother and I expect you to

do exactly as we say. Until further notice, your stepbrother will

remain as Stephanie."



"Yes!!!" Laura giggled and clapped lightly.



"Stop it Laura." Stepmother scolded.



Dad continued. "Don't interrupt again Laura, just listen. He will be

Stephanie at all times with one, and only one, exception. He will be

your thirteen year old stepbrother when he goes to school which

starts up again for both of you in a little over a week. But at all

other times, like when he gets home from school or on weekends or

holidays, he'll be our pretty little Stephie!"



"Please no dad. I want to go back to being a boy all the time!" I pleaded.



"Sorry, but it's for your own good Stephen--ah--I mean Stephie." He replied.



Dad turned his attention back to Laura. "Now this is very important

Laura, so pay close attention. When your stepbrother is Stephen,

you're to treat him as such, just like before. A thirteen year old

boy. But when he is Stephanie, which will be most of the time when

you're around him, he's an eight year old little girl like you."



"Yeah, but there's one big difference. I don't wear frilly sissy

dresses or ribbons in my hair or DIAPERS!!!" Laura scoffed.



With anger in her voice, stepmother interjected. "Laura, I'm hoping

Stephie will be a good example for you. You're such a Tomboy! A

little girl like you should wear pretty dresses and hair ribbons. You

know, your stepbrother's dresses and petticoats and things should fit

you very nicely too!"



"I'm not dressing up like a sissy like him!" Laura shouted.



Stepmother countered. "If you don't cooperate Laura, you could find

yourself in more than just pretty dresses and petticoats. You'll find

yourself wearing and USING diapers too!!"



That shut her up, thankfully, I thought.



"Now girls." And I winced at dad's use of the word "girls". "This

next part is especially important so pay extra close attention. When

Stephen is Stephen, he's my thirteen year old son." And then he

looked specifically at Laura. "When Stephen is Stephanie, SHE'S my

NIECE, the daughter of my sister and brother-in-law, who's staying

with us while her parents are out of the country on business, like I

was."



He took a breath and continued. "Stephie can't be a daughter in this

house that just, somehow, popped out of nowhere girls."



"Let me explain it Steve." Stepmother said to dad. "It's simple

girls. STEPHIE is our niece and your cousin Laura." She glanced at

Laura. "STEPHEN is our son and your stepbrother, like before, Laura.

Understand girls?"



We both nodded "yes".



"Are you sure you both understand girls?" Dad asked.



We both nodded "yes" again. And Laura giggled and I cried.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part3



"Well, now that that's settled, it's past dinner time. We need to

eat. Let's go out for dinner and celebrate Stephie's return back home

from camp." Stepmother and Laura eagerly agreed with dad's

suggestion. I just sobbed and moaned at the idea.



"Laura, go upstairs and wash up and get dressed in something more

presentable." Stepmother said.



"Aw mom, do I gotta?" Laura groaned.



"Yes Laura, you gotta! Unless you'd like me to pick out one of your

stepbrother's pretty dresses for you to wear!"



Without a word, Laura dashed upstairs.



"You're perfect as you are Stephie. Unless you need a diaper change?"

Stepmother asked.



I shook my head side to side, as tears streamed down my face.



"Good girl. Clean and dry." Stepmother praised me as she wiped my

tears with a tissue. "Calm down Stephie, you're an old pro at doing

the pretty little girl routine. Nobody will think you're anything

other than that."



"Yeah, but if we run into anyone who knows me, they'll surely realize

I'm Stephen!" I cried.



"Not a problem sweetie! If anyone wonders about you being Stephen,

the explanation is simple. You and Stephen are cousins and you both

have always had an uncanny resemblance to each other. It'll work. If

it happens and I'm around, let me do the explaining. Otherwise, you

can explain it clearly enough."



Her words didn't instill a lot of confidence in me.



We went to a nearby Applebee's. Being Saturday night, it was mobbed.

As we stood in line waiting to be seated, I fidgetted and continuely

tugged at the hem of my dress to keep my petticoats from showing, or

even worse, my diapered and rhumba pantied behind from being

displayed to everyone. My eyes darted back and forth looking for

anyone I recognized. Mercifully, I recognized nobody. But I certainly

got a good share of looks from the crowd, especially in comparison

with Laura who was dressed like any normal eight year old girl in

jeans and a short sleeved T-shirt. Her simple outfit made my frilly

attire seem even more sissyish. But, at least, no one seemed to think

I was anything other that a very prissy little girl. Laura, of

course, revelled in the whole situation. I just did my best to smile

with girlish glee over my pretty outfit.



Eventually, we were seated at a table, which of course, proved to be

quite a battle for me with my dress and petticoats. I fought with

little success to keep them from "poufing" up all around me. And that

caused some giggling from nearby diners. But the most giggling came

from Laura who relished in my plight.



"Stop it Laura or you'll see what it's like the next time we go out."

Dad thankfully admonished.



Midway through dinner, I felt a pressing need to pee. I hadn't used

my diapers in any way all day. I didn't panic though. If I peed, so

long as it wasn't a flood, I'd be okay. Providing I didn't leak,

which shouldn't happen as I was very heavily diapered. And there

wouldn't be any overpowering smell, like if I pooped.



I slowly let go with the waterworks, a few trickles at a time. By the

time desert was served, I had relieved myself completely and nothing

had leaked at all. I was wet and squishy but I was okay with that. I

had certainly worn a lot worse diapers in my day. I was just glad I

hadn't needed to poop. That horrendous smell would have been a dead

giveaway. And no one was the wiser.



But as dad and stepmother sipped their after dinner coffee and waited

for the bill, I felt another urge. And I reseigned myself to not poop

my diapers until we were home, or at the very least, out of the

restaurant. I fought with my bowels and, thankfully, about ten or so

minutes later we were on our way out the restaurant door.



As we crossed the parking lot for the van, I really started to have a

dire need to poop. I managed to make it into the back of the van,

seated and buckled in with Laura beside me.



It was about a fifteen minute ride to home. Surely I could hold out

that long, I thought.



But only a few short minutes away from the restaurant, I could hold

out no longer. I, silently at least, thoroughly pooped myself.



And, within moments, Laura gasped and shouted. "Oh geeze, I think

Stephie just pooped her diapers mom. Phew! She stinks awful. Roll

down the windows."



I was in tears. The smell quickly reached the front of the van and

dad hit the power windows switches.



"Oh God, now I gotta ride the rest of the way home next to Little

Miss Poopie Pants!" Laura complained.



"Oh hush up Laura and stop your complaining." Stepmother sternly

shouted back. "Or you'll find yourself wearing diapers and plastic

pants to bed tonight. And then you'll see what it's like to wear wet,

poopy stinky diapers."



Laura said nothing more for the rest of the ride home. She just kept

her nose pinched and gasped for breath.



Hearing Laura get her comeuppance from my stepmother actually cheered

me up a bit and I stopped crying. Now I revelled in the thought that

maybe someday, before too long, she'd find herself in a frilly sissy

dress and petticoats and wet, poopy stinky diapers like me. Oh that

would be such fitting justice I thought.

[BetBots]

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--parts 4-6 by sissycaroline



Part 4



The sun was just starting to set as we pulled into the driveway. I

made my way into the house as quickly as possible to avoid any

inquiring eyes. As we entered the front door, stepmother said. "Just

stand here in the living room Stephie for a moment while I hang up my

sweater and put my purse away."



Laura whisked past me, still pinching her nose and said only, "Yuck",

as she raced upstairs for her bedroom to avoid my smell. Dad hung his

car keys on the key rack in the kitchen and returned to the living

room just as stepmother did.



Dad sat in his armchair and stepmother approached me. She surely must

have found my "fragrance" offensive, but she didn't show it. She was,

afterall, an adult and a mother.



"We gotta get you cleaned up and ready for bed Stephie." She said as

she removed my hair ribbon and the necklace and earrings she'd given

me for my birthday. Then she knelt down and unbuckled my Mary Janes

and helped me out of them and my anklets.



"Okay sweetie, arms up. Let's get you out of your pretty party dress

and petties before your messy diapers do any damage to them."



A minute later, I stood there in nothing but my stinky diapers and

rhumba panties and training bra as stepmother inspected my dress and

petticoats. She smiled. "Good, no leaks of any kind The outfit's

perfect." And she laid them on the sofa.



"Stephie, I gotta run a tub for you and hang up your outfit and lay

out your night clothes. I won't be long but in the meantime, go

outside and sit on the patio so you don't stink up the house any more

than you already have." Stepmother said as she pointed to the back

patio sliding door.



"Like this!!!" I cried. "But someone might see me!"



"No they won't Stephie. It's dark now and you know the backyard is

pretty secluded. Just don't turn on the patio flood lights." And she

took my clothes and things in hand and headed upstairs.



I looked at my father."Dad???"



"Go on Stephie, you'll be fine." Was all he said as he looked up from

the newspaper he was reading.



I pushed open the patio door and peeked outside to see that the coast

was clear. I made a quick dash for a plastic patio chair under the

cover of a large potted shrub in a corner of the deck and quickly sat

down in my stinky, squishy mess. I sat and stared at the patio door

waiting for my stepmother to come back.



But less than a minute later, Laura appeared in the patio doorway

holding a can of soda she'd just gotten from the refridgerator. She

waved at me and giggled and locked the sliding glass door and turned

the patio flood lights on and walked away.



I wanted to kill her but didn't dare move from the cover of the

potted shrub. Thankfully, a long few minutes later, the patio lights

went out and the door opened and stepmother stepped out onto the deck.



"Stephie, you silly girl, I told you not to turn on the lights!" She said.



"I didn't. Laura did that and locked the patio door."



"Oh, well I'll speak to her later about that." She said.



It was becoming quite evident that Laura was going to be very

troublesome for me.



Stepmother motioned me inside. "C'mon, I'll get you cleaned up and

ready for bed Stephie."



As we walked past dad in the living room for upstairs, I stopped and

said. "Dad? Stepmother? Can I please.."



"It's mommy and daddy here at home Stephie." She corrected.



I gritted my teeth and continued. "Mommy? Daddy? Can I please bathe

and change my diapers myself?"



"But little girls like you need their mommies to do that for them."

Stepmother replied.



I really wanted to at least have the dignity of doing it for myself

and continued on. "But I'm a thirteen year old boy! And I'm quite

capable of bathing and diapering myself."



Both of them laughed. And I immediately realized the relative

absurdity of my statement. A thirteen year old boy/little girl

pleading his case to be allowed to change his wet, poopy diapers

himself. But I didn't care or find it funny.



Dad looked up from his newspaper again. "Well you know Joan, it'd

save you a lot of work. Why not let him, I mean her, give it a try?"



"Well, that's true Steve. I suppose we could give her a try." And she

looked at me.



"Thanks--MOMMY!" I said.



"Okay then Stephie. If you think you can be a big girl, we'll give it a go."



I smiled and nodded my head up and down.



"But listen up sweetie and be sure to follow my directions to the

letter." She warned.



"I promise. I will mommy." And in a little girlish maneuver to gain

favor, I stuck my index finger to the corner of my mouth and twisted

slightly from side to side as she spoke.



"Go upstairs to the bathroom. There's a warm tub of bubble bath

waiting for you. Carefully pull off your rhumba panties. You'll find

a diaper pail with sudsy water to put them in. Very carefully remove

your messy disposable diapers and put them in the plastic bag you'll

find on the toilet seat. There's an ample supply of baby wipes to

clean your mess BEFORE you get into the tub. Sort of a pre-cleaning.

Use as many as you need to. I don't want you soaking and washing in a

tub of poopy suds. Put the used baby wipes in the plastic bag. If you

get any of your mess on the floor, and you probably will, there are

paper towels and a spray bottle of Lysol in the sink cabinet to clean

it up with. Put those in the plastic bag too and close it with the

twist tie. It'll go outside to the trash. Understand so far Stephie?"

She asked.



"Yes mommy. I'm a big girl! I can do it." I said in the ultra little

girlish mode I had slipped into.



Stepmother fanned her face with her hand. "I'm sorry Stephie, but you

do stink!" And she continued. "But anyways. Use the wash cloth next

to the tub to thoroughly, and I do mean thoroughly, wash every knook

and cranny of yourself. I want you squeaky clean and sweet smelling

all over. Then you can soak for awhile if you want to. Don't wash

your hair or worry if you get it wet."



That surprised me but I was glad to hear it.



"I will take care of your hair after you're bathed and diapered. Are

you following all of this honey?"



"Yes mommy, I can do all of that." I replied.



"When you're done with your bath and dried, brush your teeth and head

for your room. You'll find three disposable diapers and plastic pants

on your bed. Baby powder and diaper rash ointment is on your dresser.

Do use the baby powder but it's up to you if you think you need the

ointment. When you're ready, come back down here. We'll be waiting

for you."



Out of force of habit, I started to curtsey. They giggled as I

realized I had nothing to curtsey with. I giggled too and headed for

upstairs.



"Be sure to securely diaper yourself Stephie! We don't want any leaks

in your bed tonight." Father called as I walked up the stairs.



Probably almost an hour later, I found myself, towel wrapped around

me, standing for the first time since camp in my bedroom. Thankfully,

it appeared to be pretty much the same as I had left it, except for

the diapers and plastic pants and baby powder and ointment that had

been set out for me. I had feared it might have been turned into a

full fledged nursery, complete with a crib. It felt very good to be

back in my own room.



I didn't inspect my room any further though. I knew better than to

keep stepmother and dad waiting too long for me to appear back

downstairs. I powdered myself but didn't want the bother of the

diaper rash ointment. Then I quickly, but carefully and securely,

diapered myself with the three disposables. I tugged the clear, pink

tinted plastic diaper pants up, making certain that my diapers were

tucked inside the waist and leg openings. And I headed downstairs.



Dad, stepmother and Laura were sitting in the living room watching TV.



Laura burst into laughter at the sight of me in only my diapers and

plastic pants and teased. "Thank goodness you don't stink so awful

anymore!"



"Shut up Laura, or you might find yourself stinking awful in

diapers!" Dad scolded.



Mom inspected me head to toe and declared. "Perfect Stephie. What a

big girl!!! You did a great job. And you smell so sweet."



Laura stifled a giggle. But I didn't care. I was actually proud of

myself and squealled, "Thank you mommy."



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part5



"Now Stephie, before we get you into a pretty nitey for beddy bye,

I'm gonna wash and condition your hair with a special shampoo and

conditioner. We'll do it in the kitchen sink." And she took my hand

and we headed there.



I figured that it had to be something that would give my curls more

bounce and body and hold. And I was sure I'd be sleeping in a head

full of rollers tonight.



"Aw, mommy!" I groaned.



"Hush up honey. No complaints." She said and she gave my bum a gentle

swat. But it wasn't done in anger or done to hurt me in any way.



She vigorously washed my hair, rinsed it with the sprayer, then

washed and rinsed it a second time. She towel dried it slightly and

then sat me at the kitchen table. She took a tube of some kind of

conditioner and thoroughly worked a large glop of it into every

strand of my hair. Next, using a rattail comb, she parted my hair

down the middle of my head and combed all of my hair staight down

about my shoulders.



"Now just sit there for about fifteen minutes to let the conditioner

do its work. Would you like something to drink while you wait? Or a

magazine to read?" She asked.



I declined the drink, for fear that I'd be peeing it into my diapers

over night. But I said yes to the magazine.



She went to the magazine rack under the microwave table and came back

with an issue of "American Girl" magazine.



"Aw mommy, that's Laura's magazine!" I said with a frown.



"I said no complaints Stephie! It's a magazine for little girls like

Laura and YOU!" And she set it on the table in front of me. "Besides,

there are lots of pretty dollies with matching outfits available for

their lucky owners. Maybe you'll see one that you'd like me to order

for you."



No chance of that I thought, but didn't express it. I was in

stepmother's "good graces" and didn't want to spoil that.



"I'll be back in a little bit sweetheart. I want to run a load of

wash. Check out the magazine." And she headed for the basement.



I looked at the cover. It was almost a year old. And it showed no

sign of wear or tear. It appeared to be totally untouched and unread.

No surprise there. A Tomboy like Laura would have no interest in it.

Nor did I. I just opened it to somewhere in the middle and left it

there in front of me to make stepmother think I'd actually been

looking through it.



Before long, she returned. I expected her to be carrying my bucket

full of pink rollers, but she wasn't.



"See anything in there that catches your fancy Stephie?" She asked as

she pointed to the opened magazine.



"Oh, no thank you mommy." I declined as graciously as I could. Being

in her "good graces" was becoming important to me.



"Too bad honey pie. You'd look precious in one of those outfits with

a matching dolly!"



"Yes mommy, I know." I replied, but not with much enthusiasm.



"Well, c'mon over to the sink and I'll rinse out your conditioner."



A few minutes later, I was back at the kitchen table with stepmother

towelling my hair. Then she parted it down the middle again, like

before, and then blow dried and combed it straight down about my

shoulders. It took a long time to dry it but when it finally was dry,

she picked up a brush and brushed it for several minutes. Then she

held a hand mirror in front of me. And I was very pleasantly amazed

at my reflection.



My hair was shiny and well conditioned. But best of all, it was

straight, just like before I went away to camp. There was absolutely

no curl to it at all. My hair was probably a good three inches longer

than before I went to camp and, of course, I still had my "girlie"

bangs. But I was thrilled that I had no curls what-so-ever. It looked

like normal for me--that is, normal for me--Stephen.



"What do you think Stephie?" Stepmother asked.



"Oh mommy! Thank you. I love it." I replied with very genuine

gratitude. But I couldn't resist asking. "It's wonderful mommy. And

don't misunderstand. I'm certainly not complaining. But how did you

get all the curls out and why?" And I repeated. "But I sure do love

it."



"The shampoo and conditioner is designed to relax curls and

straighten hair. That did the trick." And she picked up the hairbrush

again and started brushing it some more. And her brushing actually

felt very good and soothing to me. Girlish but good. I could

understand why girls were always brushing each other's hair.



"As to why--well to be perfectly honest Stephie, I'd love to keep you

in pretty wiener curls. You look so precious in them. So little

girlie! But in a little over a week, you have to go back to school as

thirteen year old Stephen. And Stephen can't have pretty, girlish

wiener curls. You gotta look, as much as possible, like you did

before you went to camp. Now I can't do anything about your bangs.

They'll have to grow out over time. But at least, your hair will be

pretty much back to normal for Stephen."



"Wow! I hadn't thought about that." I said. "Thanks."



"Well, be thankful that your father and I DID think about that."



"Yes mommy, thank you again." And I stood up and actually hugged her.



She took my hand. "Now let's go upstairs and you can pick out a

pretty nitey to wear to bed. And be thankful for no rollers to sleep

in."



"Yes mommy. I won't miss them!"



As we walked into the living room for the stairs, stepmother said to

dad and Laura, who were still watching TV, "Well, what do you two

think?"



"Great work Joan. But the curls sure were cute." Dad said.



"Yeah, they sure were." Laura said and then added. "Sissy boys should

have pretty wiener curls!"



"STEPHEN can't have wiener curls." Stepmother replied crossly. "But

LAURA can!!!"



Laura quickly recanted. "I'm sorry mom. Stephie's hair looks great."



"Yes, that's more like it Laura." And stepmother glared at her.



Stepmother and I climbed the stairs for my bedroom. As we walked in,

she said. "There's been a few changes Stephie. Maybe you noticed them

when you were getting into your diapers?"



"Not really." I said.



"Well, I'll show you." And she led me over to my dresser.



She opened the top drawer. It contained exactly five pairs of my

B.V.D.s, five pairs of my black dress socks, and five of my

undershirts. But the remaining three drawers under it held all of my

girlie underthings. I gasped, though it shouldn't have been a

surprise to me.



Then to the closet. She opened the louvered doors. I foolishly gasped

in surprise again. The right third of it held exactly five pairs of

my school dress slacks and five long sleeved dress shirts. All of my

boys clothes were in "fives". I realized it was for each day of the

school week. A hook held my brown belt and my brown penny loafers

were on the closet floor beneath it. My room had absolutely no other

boy's clothes. All my play/casual clothes were gone.



The left two thirds of the closet held all of my dresses and

petticoats and skirts and tops and sleep wear and Mary Janes and

sandals. All the rest of my frilly "girlie gear" from camp.



"Pick out a nitey to wear to bed tonight Stephie. Pink would be nice

to match your diaper pants." Stepmother advised.



I let out a very audible groan.



"Oh, c'mon sweetheart." She said. "Don't be such a party pooper!" And

then she giggled over what she had just said and added. "Well

actually, don't be any kind of a POOPER tonight."



I wasn't much amused by her quip but replied, "Yes mommy." And I took

a lacey pink nitey from its hanger.



She helped me into it. "Okay, it's just after eleven. Time for you

and Laura to get to bed. We have church tomorrow. Let's go downstairs

and you can kiss your father good night. "



At the bottom of the stairs, stepmother called out. "Okay Laura, it's bedtime."



"But mom, it's only eleven o'clock!"



"I don't care. It's bedtime." Stepmother was getting angry.



"But it's Saturday night!!!" Laura was relentless.



"No BUTS Laura, unless you'd like your BUTT in diapers and plastic

pants too, like your stepbrother's!"



Despite this quip being at my expense, I did appreciate it very much

and laughed out loud. And I could see a lot of frustration in Laura's

very red face from all the threats she'd been given this day by dad

and stepmother. And I loved it and so hoped they wouldn't remain idle

threats for long.



I kissed dad on the cheek. "Good night daddy."



"Good night Stephie." And he kissed me on my forehead and whispered.

"You're a very good little girl. I love you."



In bed, it took a good amount of time to fall asleep. My head was a

"buzz" with all the many things that had happened today. And I was

worried about going to church tomorrow. A lot of people who'd be

there knew "Stephen".



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part6



"Wake up sweetheart. Time to get up!" I heard my stepmother call from

behind my closed bedroom door. A knock soon followed and the door

opened about half way. My stepmother's head peeked in through the

opening. "C'mon sleepyhead. Gotta get up and get ready for church."



I looked at the clock on my nightstand. 8:03AM. "But mommy, why so

early. We usually go to 12:00 mass.



Stepmother opened the door fully and walked to my bedside. "Yup,

you're right. And that's when we're going. But we need plenty of time

to get you ready for church."



"But church isn't for four hours. I don't need that much time." I complained.



"Well, today you will honey pie." And she walked to my window and

opened the blinds. I squinted at the burst of sunlight.



"C'mon downstairs and have some breakfast. And I'll explain why."



She headed out the door, then stopped and turned back. "How are your diapers?"



I pushed against the front of my diaper pants. "Clean and dry mommy."



"Good Stephie. What a big girl. See you in a few minutes." And out

the door she went.



I got up and headed for the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my

face to wipe the sleep from my eyes and rinsed my mouth with

mouthwash. I smiled at the reflection in the vanity mirror. No

curls!!! And I trudged down the stairs to the kitchen.



Stepmother was at the stove making French toast. Dad was sitting at

the table sipping coffee and reading the Sunday paper. Laura was

nowhere to be seen.



"Hi Stephanie. How's my little girl this morning?" Dad said peering

up from his newspaper.



"Very tired." I mumbled.



"Do your diapers need changing Stephie?" He asked.



"No daddy." I again mumbled.



"That's my girl!" And he smiled and went back to his newspaper.



"Sit down Steph. Got your favorite--French toast." And stepmother set

a plate of it on the table in front of me.



I was pretty groggy but the French toast and glass of cold milk

perked me up. As I finished the last piece, I asked. "Why so early

mommy?"



"Well, I want to have plenty of time to do your hair."



"Do my hair???" But it's done." I said. "You did it last night and I

love it like it is!"



"I know Stephie and you're right." She said as she started to clear

away the breakfast dishes. "Help me finish clearing the dishes and

I'll explain."



I cleared the remaining dishes as she set a plate of French toast

aside for Laura. "That little dic-kens probably won't be up for

another couple hours." She said, really just complaining to herself.



Dad left for the living room to catch the morning news on the TV. Mom

sat down at the table with a fresh cup of coffee and I finished the

last drops of my milk.



"More milk Stephie?"



"No thanks mommy." I replied.



"Now about your hair Stephie." And she took a sip from her cup. "I

know you're very pleased with it, and you should be. It's almost

perfect. Perfect for Stephen, that is. But it's not perfect for

Stephanie."



"But why not??? I don't even care that much if you want to tie

ribbons in when I'm Stephanie. I'm pretty used to that sort of thing

now. It's fine for Stephen and Stephanie."



"Well, you're wrong there Stephie. Now hear me out. You're a smart

girl AND a smart boy and what I'm gonna say will make sense to you

I'm sure."



I moaned but kept quiet to hear her out.



"If you're smart, you'll try to distance Stephen from Stephanie as

much as you can. You don't want THEM to be perceived as ONE, or the

jig is up."



I just gave her a very perplexed look.



"Stay with me sweetheart. You'll understand." And she took another

sip of her coffee. "Your hair, mussed as it is, is Stephen's

hairstyle. Almost like it was before camp. And one's hairstyle is

probably what most people notice the most."



"Yeah but..."



"Just listen Steph." Stepmother cut me off. "You'll thank me later

for this." And she paused to think for a moment.



"Let me ask you a question Stephie, keeping in mind that someone's

hairstyle is one of the most noticeable and recognizable things about

them."



She sipped again and asked. "Now, what if a very pretty little girl

named Stephie suddenly appeared, almost out of the blue? A very

pretty little girl in a very pretty dress with a very pretty face

that looked a lot like Stephen's face. And that pretty little girl

had the exact same hairstyle as Stephen. What would someone think?"



There was a very pregnant pause as I thought for several moments. But

finally, it hit me.



"Well--ah--I guess they'd know for sure that Stephanie was really

Stephen--um--I mean ME!"



"Bingo!" Stepmother said with a look of relief. "I knew you were a

smart girl. And boy too! It's like I said earlier, you have to

distance Stephanie from Stephen as much as possible. The more

different Stephanie looks from Stephen, the better off both of you

are. And both Stephanie's and Stephen's hairstyles are a big factor

in that. So Stephanie's hairstyle should be very different from

Stephen's hairstyle. And that's why I got you up early, to give

Stephanie a new hairdo that's very different from Stephen's."



"I understand mommy. I know you're right. I hadn't thought of that.

But I can't have curls that will probably still show when I go to

school as me--Stephen."



"Relax sweetie." And she took my hands in hers. "Mommy's thought of

everything! When I do Stephie's hair, no curling or cutting or

rollers or gel or anything else, other than a brush and comb, will be

used. And undoing Stephie's hairdo will take only moments. And

Stephen's hair will be back to normal. Remember honey pie, you want

to distance Stephanie from Stephen. And Stephie's new hairdo will go

along way in doing that."



"Really mommy?"



"Yes--REALLY. You'll see."



Stepmother left me at the table for her bedroom. She returned a

minute later with a brush, rattail comb and the hand mirror. "Let's

get to work on your hair now Stephie. You're gonna love it."



I doubted that, but did now clearly see the wisdom in a new hairdo

for Stephie. She started by giving my hair a long and thorough

brushing. Though it was such a girlish thing, it felt absolutely

wonderful. When the brushing was done, she picked up the rattail comb

and spent several minutes combing through my long hair. And that felt

great too. Then using the comb, she carefully parted my hair straight

down the middle from the top of my head to the nape of my neck. My

bangs remained in place.



"Hold the mirror up and pay attention and watch what I'm doing." She

said as she worked. "Because down the road, I'll expect you to do

your hair yourself."



Satisfied with a nice straight part all the way down the back of my

neck, she took one half of my hair in one hand and the other half in

the other hand. Like two ponytails.



"Now Stephie, hold the left half of your hair in your left hand while

I work on the right."



She worked the start of my right ponytail up to just behind the top

of my ear and secured it with some kind of fastener or band. Then she

did the same to the left side.



As I watched in the hand mirror, I groaned. "Ponytails???"



"Well, they're actually pigtails--well, sort of for now--well--ah--

you'll see. I'm not done yet." She said.



With both pigtails secured, she briefly brushed them and then

switched to the rattail comb.



"This next part is tricky sweetie. But all little girls learn how to

do it. So pay attention.!"



She used the comb to separate one pigtail into three equal smaller

ones. And she started doing some sort of "weaving" thing with them.



I wasn't stupid and soon realized what she was doing and complained.

"Not braids mommy!!!" And I started to cry.



"Hush up Stephie." She scolded. "They're for your own good. Remember,

Stephie's hair has to be very different from Stephen's. And braids

will take care of that nicely."



"But they're so girlie!" I cried.



"Well--dah!!! No kidding Stephie!" Stepmother was getting frustrated

and sarcastic. "And I suppose Stephie's not SO GIRLIE!!!"



She was angry and I dropped it and just sobbed. She finished the

first braid and secured it with a rubber band about two inches above

its endpoint. Then she removed the temporary band at the top of the

braid creating a long, straight braid of hair from the top back of my

ear to a couple of inches below my shoulder. Then she did the same to

the other side.



And she paused and went to the stove and poured herself a fresh cup

of coffee. "Listen sweetheart. I'm sorry for being sarcastic with

you. But braids are your best bet." And she wiped my tears with a

tissue.



I played the "petulant little girl" card and stuck out my lower lip

and just pouted.



"I know your braids are very girlie. But then, no more so than your

wiener curls!" And she smiled. "Remember, girlie braids for Stephie

is vastly different from Stephen's hair. Now stop the sobbing and

think about it. I gotta get something from your room to finish up

Stephie's new hairdo." And she headed upstairs.



I did think about it while she was gone. And I knew she was right.

But when I looked at my braids in the mirror, I hated what I saw.

They were no more or no less girlie than my wiener curls. I guess I

was just hoping for something simpler. I bucked up and stopped my

crying. I figured the braids would grow on me, literally and

figuratively, so to speak. I even managed a little smile when

stepmother returned from my bedroom.



But the smile quickly turned to a frown again when she set two white

barrettes and two lengths of white ribbon on the table.



I groaned. "Aw mommy! Do I have to wear barrettes and ribbons???"



"No Stephie. You don't have to." And she paused for a moment and

added. "God knows Stephen sure wouldn't!"



That answered that in a nutshell. And I argued no more. And she

clipped a barrette at the top front of each side of my head. And she

tied a large white bow at the end of each braid. And I stared in

horror at my reflection in the mirror. Almost in a daze.



But the daze was quickly broken by an uproar of laughter and the

sound of Laura's voice.



"Oh my God!" She cried. "Sissy braids for the sissy boy! They're even

better than his wiener curls!!!"

[BetBots]

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--parts 7-9 by sissycaroline



Part 7



"Stop it Laura--right now!" Stepmother yelled. "Leave your stepbrother alone!"



"But his braids are so sissy!" She said with a giggle. "And those ribbons!!!"

And she grabbed one of my braids and twirled it around.



"Leave his hair alone. Enough with the braids. I'm warning you!"

Hollered stepmother. "Now get your breakfast. There's a plate of

French toast on the counter for you. Microwave it for a minute and

sit down and eat."



Laura popped it into the microwave. A minute later, with plate in

hand, she sat down in the chair next to mine. She set it on the table

and then stuck her nose in the air and started sniffing. "Well thank

goodness! At least the sissy boy's diapers aren't poopy."



Stepmother went ballistic. "That's it young lady. You've done it

now!" And she got up and grabbed Laura's plate and practically threw

it into the sink.



"But mom, I wasn't finished!" Laura yelled.



"That's right Laura. You're not finished because I'm just getting

started with you." And stepmother picked up the hairbrush.



"What on earth is going on in here?" Dad shouted as he walked into the kitchen.



"Dad!" Laura called. "Mom's gonna spank me!" And that's what I thought too.



But before dad could reply, stepmother laughed and said, "Oh silly

Laura. I'm not gonna spank you. Though God knows you deserve it. But

this hairbrush," and she waved it in front of Laura's face, "is gonna

be the instrument of a very fitting punishment for you."



And she walked behind Laura and started brushing her hair. At that

point, I was as confused as Laura and dad appeared to be. And all

three of us said nothing.



"You know Laura," she calmly said, "despite being a Tomboy, you do

have such lovely long hair. Most girls would give anything to have

hair like yours."



Stepmother was right, though Laura never fussed or tended to it. She

was definitely not a "girlie" girl. Her long, straight light brown

hair reached almost to the middle of her back. And, like always, it

was snarled and tangled and unkempt.



"Now Laura." Stepmother continued. "Since you seem to have such a

fascination with your stepbrother's new hairdo, I'm gonna give you

braids and ribbons just like his!"



"No way I'm gonna have braids like sissy boy!!!" And she started to

bolt from her chair, only to be pushed back down by stepmother.



"Oh, you're quite mistaken young lady. You're gonna have pretty

girlie braids and ribbons to show off in church and for the rest of

the day."



"Dad!!!" She pleaded in desperation.



"You'll do as your mother says Laura." He sternly replied.



"Now Laura, you better sit still." Stepmother warned. "If you fight

me in any way, you'll find yourself in diapers and plastic pants too.

I'm sure your stepbrother would be more than glad to let you wear a

couple of his thickest cloth diapers under a frilly pair of his

rhumba panties."



Before I could think better of it, I chimed, "Definitely mommy!"



"Oh yuck! Gross!" Laura gasped in horror. "You wouldn't make me wear

his diapers and rhumba panties mom???"



"Oh Laura, you'd not only wear them. You'd use them too!" She

replied. "Now are you gonna sit still and let me do your hair?"



"Yes mother." And she started to whimper and sob.



Though I hated being the example for her punishment, I was glad to

see some "justice in the jungle".



"Stephie, you're gonna help me braid your stepsister's hair."



"Aw mommy, do I have to?" I pleaded.



"Yes you do." She crossly said. "You learn by doing."



Well, I wasn't too keen about getting so up close and personal with

Laura and her hair. And I knew Laura must have felt the same. But

stepmother and I got the job done.



Half an hour later, a very forlorn and contrite Laura stood up from

her seat with long pretty braids tied with white ribbons. She even

had white barrettes like mine. Her braids, which were probably four

or five inches longer than mine, hung down in front under her very

red and tear stained face.



Laura held her braids in her hands and whined. "Oh mom, please! These

are awful."



"I think they look very sweet Laura."



"But mom. They're so long. They'll get in the way when I play or eat

or do anything. I could get them caught in a fan or the garbage

disposal or catch fire to them if I lean over a hot stove burner.

They're dangerous!!!"



It was sure a stretch. And my stepmother really had a good laugh over

Laura's ridiculous excuses for not having her hair in braids.



"Well Laura." And she chuckled with a devilish grin. "You do have a point."

And she struggled to try to contain her laughter. "Sit back down honey."



Laura quickly sat back down, eager to be relieved of her braids and ribbons.



But I knew stepmother had something else in mind. But what? I hadn't a clue.



Stepmother untied the white ribbons from her braids and set them on

the table in front of Laura. Then she walked over to a kitchen

drawer. And Laura seized the opportunity to gloat and looked at me

and stuck out her tongue.



A minute later, stepmother returned with two lengths of heavy duty

string in her hand. Laura started to get a look of panic on her face,

as she sensed something was up.



"I certainly don't want you to be in any DANGER Laura!" And she

grinned. "So I have the perfect solution to your DANGEROUS dangling

braids problem."



She took the end of one braid and brought it up and under the

beginning of it at the scalp and tied it securely in place with one

of the strings. Then she tied one of the white ribbons over it in a

large, perky bow. And she did the same to the other braid. She picked

up the hand mirror and held it in front of Laura's face.



"Voila! Braid loops! Problem solved!" And stepmother beamed with satisfaction.



I laughed. Her braid loops were even more "sissy".



But Laura certainly wasn't laughing. She pounded her fists on the

table and stomped her feet on the floor and buried her face in her

arms on the table and bawled like a baby.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part8



Stepmother looked at her watch. "It's almost eleven. Okay girls,

upstairs. Get dressed for church." She took Laura's hand and had to

practically yank the miserable creature from her chair. "Let's go

Laura. I'll help you get dressed. Stephie, you're on your own."



She almost had to drag Laura up the stairs. I followed behind.

Stepmother called back. "The yellow gingham dress with the sewn in

petticoats would be perfect for church." As she pulled Laura into her

room, she added. "Don't forget the extra petticoat Steph. I want your

dress nice and poufie. Get all gussied up. You know the routine. I'm

gonna have my hands full with this little Tomboy!"



Even with both our bedroom doors closed, I could easily hear all the

commotion going on in Laura's room as I got dressed. Lots of arguing

and complaining and crying from Laura. And several threats from

stepmother about diapers and plastic pants.



I did make it a point to "get all gussied up" like mother had said.

Earrings and necklace from stepmother. Light makeup and pink lipstick

that matched my nail polish, which I had reapplied. Even a spritz of

perfume. The whole "girlie" nine yards. And I fussed for two reasons.

I wanted to distance myself from Stephen and I wanted to keep on the

good side of stepmother, which I enjoyed, especially with Laura on

her bad side.



With a final adjustment of my dress and petticoats and braid ribbons

in the full length mirror, I took a moment to reflect on my

reflection. And the reflection was awful---but perfect!



I stepped into the hallway for downstairs. Laura's door was still

closed. They weren't done. I heard stepmother yell. "Well maybe you'd

prefer to wear your stepbrother's pink satin party dress and

petticoats missy!"



I was the threatening example again. But at least it probably wasn't

an idle threat. And I "bounced and bobbed" my way down the stairs.



Dad was seated in his armchair in the living room putting money into

the church offering envelope. He looked up. "Wow! Absolutely stunning

Stephie!" He gushed.



I decided to just stand and wait for stepmother and Laura. I'd

learned from experience that standing was often easier than trying to

sit in my mountain of "pouf".



I soon heard the sound of steps descending the stairs. Both my mouth

and dad's opened wide with awe at the sight of Laura. "Wow!" Was all

he said. And I was just lost for words.



Except for the red, teared stained and embarrassed face, Laura looked

like a whole different little girl. She was wearing a knee length,

blue and green plaid, pleated skirt with a crisp, white short sleeved

blouse that sported a Peter Pan collar. Her white knee socks ended in

her black T-bars. A small matching black purse hung from her

shoulder. And I could see just the hint of the hem of a white

straight half slip peeking from under her skirt. With her braid loops

and white ribbons, one could have easily thought that she'd just

gotten off the bus from some Catholic girls school.



I was amazed. I couldn't remember ever seeing her in a dress or

skirt. Just last year, she had vehemently refused to be the Flower

Girl in her cousin's wedding because she wouldn't wear the frilly

dress that was required. And I was surprised at how pretty she

actually was. I'd never noticed it under her Tomboy persona.



But of course, Laura blew the whole image for everyone when she

shouted, "this suc-ks!!!"



Driving to church in the van, stepmother turned around and said. "I

want to remind you girls of something that's very, very important!"



She looked at Laura. "Remember Laura! When we're out in public,

Stephie's your cousin, I repeat COUSIN! And her name's Stephanie, not

Stephen or sissy boy. And you refer to her as "her" or "she". Nothing

in male terms."



"What's the Post Office got to do with it?" Laura asked, and she

wasn't kidding.



Stepmother, who was quite serious about all of this, still couldn't

contain a slight giggle. "Male Laura. M-A-L-E. As in boys or men."



"Oh, I understand."



"Well you better or I promise you'll mightily regret it." She warned.



"As to you Stephie, remember that in public, you're our NIECE. You're

the daughter of your father's sister and you're staying with us

indefinitely while your parents are away on business. Call us Auntie

Joan and Uncle Steve. Though if you slip up and call us mommy or

daddy, it's not the end of the world. Little children often

accidently call other adults mommy or daddy. Just giggle and correct

yourself."



"It sounds like we're some family in a witness protection program

mommy." And I too wasn't kidding.



"Oh, don't exaggerate Stephie." She scolded. "And finally Stephie.

Remember, if anyone comments, and don't be surpised if they do, about

your resemblance to Stephen; you explain explain that you're cousins

and that you hear that all the time. You might even admit that you do

look similar. Say it with a smile and a girlish giggle and that will

help diffuse the situation."



In the church parking lot, I gulped as we got out of the van. Though

it embarrassed me to show my fear, I took my stepmother's hand and

said softly. "I'm scared mommy."



And I knew I had good reason to be scared. At camp, of course, it was

no secret that my fellow campers and I were boys. When I was taken to

the nearby town, it was no secret that I was a boy. And the same was

true, many times, at the Mall. And that was awful and I hated it and

it was very humiliating and embarrassing. But being recognized as a

boy in the Mall or in the town was different than being recognized as

a boy here at home. I'd probably never see those people again. And

they didn't know me.



But at home, if the secret got out that I was not only a boy; but I

was Stephen Crandall---well, that would be devastating and

humiliating to the max. And I'd certainly never, ever live it down.



"Don't worry Stephie." Stepmother soothed. "You'll be just fine. I promise."



As we started through the parking lot for the church, dad took hold

of my other hand. The three of us walked together. Laura, behind us,

brought up the rear. And she literally brought up the rear. My REAR,

that is! I felt her tugging and fiddling with the back of my dress

and petticoats. I looked over my shoulder and cried, "Laura!" And dad

and stepmother immediately looked back.



But before they could speak, Laura said. "Your petticoats are

showing. I'm just trying to fix it!"



Stepmother accepted Laura's explanation and said, "well that's very

considerate of you Laura." And we continued on.



But moments later, I felt a breeze blowing against my back upper legs

and heard the sound of laughter from behind me. I looked back over my

shoulder again and saw the hem of my petticoats just beneath it and a

nearby family trying to stifle their laughter.



"Mommy!!!" I cried, as I realized that my diapers and rhumba panties

were being fully displayed to the world.



"Laura, stop that this minute!" Stepmother yelled.



Dad let go of my hand and stepped back and took Laura's to keep control of her.



"You're gonna find yourself in diapers Laura if you don't leave

Stephie alone!" He scolded.



"But dad, Stephie's petticoats were showing. I was just trying to fix it!"



"Yeah right Laura!" He said sarcastically.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part9



The church was packed. It had a large congregation and 12:00 Mass was

very popular. Dad and Laura walked ahead of me and stepmother down

the long center aisle. Dad probably did that on purpose to avoid any

temptation on Laura's part as to my dress and petticoats, which

mercilously bounced and bobbed with every step I took.



I kept my face fixed straight ahead but I could feel many eyes on me.

Eyes that I prayed (and I surely was in the right place for that)

didn't recognize me. I felt very conspicuous. Laura must have felt

the same way too, but probably not as much as me. But with Laura's

new look, at least I wasn't the only pretty little eight year old

girl. I envied her, her simple skirt and blouse, which were sheer

hell to her. But her outlandish braid loops and huge ribbons were

even more sissy than my hairdo. I couldn't see, but I was sure she

had a big scowl on her face and probably some tears too.



We found a place not far from the front. We genuflected and entered

the pew and sat down. Dad on one end, stepmother on the other end,

and Laura and me next to each other in between. And naturally, my

dress and petties "poufed" all around me. And I envied Laura her

simple pleated skirt even more.



I had always hated all the kneeling Catholics did in church. But I

soon discovered an appreciation for it. Kneeling, like standing, was

a lot easier for me than sitting.



I did my best to keep my eyes glued straight ahead throughout Mass.

Laura tried to fiddle with my dress and petticoats a few times, but a

swat on her hand from me and dad kept her at bay.



Kneeling at the alter in my short dress and petticoats made me feel

like a sweet, innocent little girl making her First Holy Communion.

And I hoped my diapers and rhumba panties weren't showing.



Mass finally ended and we made our way back down the aisle. Both

Laura and I got lots of adoring, gushing smiles from women and young

ladies. Neither of us appreciated them. Laura just frowned but I

demurely smiled, wanting to keep up appearances.



We did get some giggles from young girls like us. But it had to be

laughter due to how childishly we both appeared.



Boys paid no attention to us, as I would have. And I was glad for that.



The first real "test" came in the back of the church outside of the sanctuary.



"Joan. Oh Joan!"



"Hi Nancy, how are you?" Stepmother said as they shook hands.



"I'm fine thanks. And you?"



Nancy, Mrs. Corrigan to me, was the mother of a boy named Billy who

was in my confirmation class last school year and would be again this

school year. And Billy was standing next to her.



I gulped and squeezed my stepmother's hand tighter and glanced down

at the floor.



Mrs. Corrigan looked down at Laura. "Well my goodness!" She gushed

fondly. "This can't be Laura?"



"It certainly is." Stepmother proudly declared. "Time for my little

Tomboy here to be more of a young lady."



"Well, you're certainly a very lovely young lady Laura!" Mrs.

Corrigan complimented as she pinched Laura's cheek.



Laura glared at her in silence. Stepmother glared at Laura in silence.



Mrs. Corrigan turned her attention to me. "And who's this sweet

little angel Joan?"



"This is Stephanie. She's Steve's niece. She's staying with us

indefinitely while her parents are out of the country on business.

She's a little shy." And stepmother slipped her hand from mine and

rested it on my shoulder. "Say hello to Mrs. Corrigan Stephie."



I hesitantly looked up and smiled and curtseyed. "Hello Mrs. Corrigan."



She giggled. "Such a well mannered, pretty little girl. You don't see

that much these days!" And she gave the still glaring Laura a look.



And I could have kicked myself. I hadn't needed to curtsey. But I

couldn't seem to get over the habit of it.



"Well it's so nice to meet you Stephanie! You're very lovely and so

is your outfit. And I certainly can see the Crandall family

resemblance." And she smiled. "I can see some of your cousin Stephen

in you."



I gulped, ready to explain as stepmother had instructed me to. And

out of fear, just a little pee trickled into my diapers.



But before I could speak, I heard music to my ears. And of all

places, it came from Billy, who had been silent and totally

disinterested in everything to this point. "Hey yeah, speaking of

Stephen! Where is he? Didn't he go away for the summer to some camp

or to visit some relatives or something?"



Stepmother took charge. "Yes he did Billy. But he won't be back until

next weekend." And she wrapped her arm around my waist and squeezed

me slightly. I had passed the "test".

[BetBots]

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--parts 10-12 by sissycaroline



Part 10



As we buckled up in the van, stepmother turned around and smiled at

me. "See sweetie, I told you you'd be fine. You were perfect."



"Thanks mommy, you were right." And I returned her smile. "I hope

it's like that all the time."



"It will be Stephie. Trust me."



As we entered the house, Laura raced upstairs for her bedroom.



"Hold up there Laura! Just where are you running off to in such a

hurry?" Stepmother called after her.



"To my room to get out of these sissy clothes and this sissy hairdo!"

She yelled back.



"Oh no you don't young lady. You stop right there. You're gonna stay

as you are until bedtime." Mom said as she caught up with her.



"No way I'm gonna spend the day as a sissy like Stephen!" And as she

started her mad dash again, stepmother grabbed her arm, holding her

in place.



"You're NOT spending the day like Stephen, I mean Stephie. She's in

diapers." And she caught her breath. "But if you argue with me, you

WILL be spending the day like Stephie---IN DIAPERS!!!"



She stompted her feet. "No! I'm gettin' out of these sissy clothes

and sissy braid loops!"And she broke stepmother's grip and bolted up

the stairs.



"Steve," she yelled, "help me." And they followed her upstairs.



I just sat on the couch to listen. I heard Laura slam her door shut.

Then I heard it open and slam shut again. And for the next twenty

minutes, I heard tons of sreaming and shouting and crying. And it was

all coming from Laura.



Finally, I heard descending steps on the stairs. Father, stepmother,

then Laura appeared in the living room. Laura looked just like she

had before she went upstairs, except for her very red, tear stained

face and the huge bulge under her pleated skirt.



"Now then Laura. Turn your back to Stephie and lift up your skirt."

Stepmother ordered.



"No!!!" She cried.



"Do it, unless you'd like an extra day like this!"



Laura was fit to be tied and embarrassed to the extreme and begged.

"Please don't make me mom!!!"



"Do it Laura. NOW!" Stepmother yelled.



Begrudgingly, she slowly turned around and lifted her skirt up.



Her very thick diapers were covered with one of the frilliest pairs

of diaper rhumba panties that I had.



I laughed and mumbled to myself. "Justice in the jungle."



"Good Laura." Stepmother said. "Now you're free to go about your day

as you wish. But don't you dare remove anything you're wearing or do

anything to your hair." And she giggled and sarcastically added.

"Stephie and I are going to Walgreen's. Gotta get a few things. Want

to come?"



"No way I'm goin' outside like this." She shouted.



"So be it Laura."



Going to Walgreen's was unwelcomed news to me. "Aw mom!" I moaned.



She sat on the couch next to me and fondled a braid. "Trust me

sweetie. You'll be fine." Then she stood back up and took my hand.

"C'mon Steph, let's go."



I winced in fear as we headed out the front door. And instead of

getting in the van, we walked past it for the sidewalk.



"It's a beautiful afternoon Stephie. Let's walk to Walgreen's."



"But mommy!" I said.



"You'll be fine Stephie. I promise."



Stepmother often, for exercise, walked to Walgreen's for small

errands. We lived on a quiet side street four blocks from Main

Street. And Walgreen's wasn't far.



We held hands as we walked, until a gust of wind blew the back of my

dress and petties up. I pulled my hand from hers and walked with both

of my hands against the back of my dress.



Half a block into our walk, I saw ahead our neighbor, Mrs. Bates,

hosing grass clippings off her driveway. Her daughter, Constance, was

Laura's age and Laura often play with Constance and her six year old

little brother, Edward. As we approached, Mrs. Bates let go of the

spray nozzle and headed to greet us.



"Hello Mrs. Crandall. How are you my dear?"



"I'm well and you Mrs. Bates?" Stepmother politely asked.



Now the Bates family was fairly new to the neighborhood. And the

country, for that matter. They had moved here, maybe six months ago,

from England. And Mrs. Bates was very formal and a bit stuffy and

very British.



"I'm quite well too Mrs. Crandall." And she looked at me. "And who is

this lovely, well dressed young lady?"



Why, I'm not sure, but I decided to take the lead and I curtseyed.

Purposely. Why not, I thought. Mrs. Bates was British and quite

formal.



"My name is Stephanie and I'm eight years old. I'm staying with

Auntie Joan and Uncle Steve for a while. Uncle Steve is my mother's

brother." I said with exaggerated politeness.



"Well, I certainly can see the family resemblance to your father and

your cousin Stephen." And she paused for a moment. "And speaking of

your cousin Stephen. I've not seen him all summer."



"He's been away for the summer." I replied. "He'll be back next weekend."



"Well, you're certainly a charming and well mannered young lady

Stephanie. I do hope you'll come down and play with my daughter

Constance. She's also eight. You two will get along smashingly!"



"Thank you Mrs. Bates." And I curtseyed again, as I was actually

having a little fun with my "charming and well mannered young lady"

charade.



"Well, Mrs. Bates, we must be on our way. Have a good day."

Stepmother said and we took a step or two, and then stepmother turned

back. "Oh, I forgot to ask. My daughter Laura said your son Edward

had a bout with the flu. How's he doing?"



"How thoughtful of you to ask Mrs. Crandall." She said. "I'm pleased

to say that Master Bates is feeling much better!"



Stepmother quickly put her hand to her mouth and giggled and almost

choked. "Well, I'm glad that Master Bates," and she giggled again

with her hand covering her mouth, "I mean Edward, is doing well."



And we turned back and headed on our way again. And I couldn't

believe the hilarious look stepmother had on her face. We walked past

the next house with stepmother fighting to contain herself. But she

finally let go and just burst out laughing.



"What's so funny mommy?" I asked.



"Nothing sweetie." Choke, choke. "Nothing Steph!"



For half a block, like Mrs. Bates, I was clueless. But then it hit me

and I started laughing.



"Did she say what I think she just said?"



"Yes dear. She did!" Stepmother said with another laugh.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part11



At Main Street, we turned right for Walgreens which was just down the

block. Inside, stepmother and I walked up and down a few aisles until

she found what she was apparently looking for.



We stopped in front of a large rack of non-prescription eyeglasses.

"Oh dear God." I thought to myself. "She's not going to make me wear

a pair of girlie glasses now?" And I didn't even need glasses.



I was relieved when she focused her attention on the mens glasses and

started to browse through them. And I figured they must be for dad.

He had several pairs of non-prescription eyeglasses that he used as

reading glasses.



Before long, she seemed to settle on a pair of simple, black plastic,

fully rimmed frames. She held them up in front of her to look through

the clear lens.



"These look good." She said, really just to herself. Then she looked

at me and giggled. "Here Steph, let's see how you look in them."



And before I could protest, she put them on me and laughed. "Take a

look at yourself." And she pointed to a small mirror on the rack.

"They sure look silly on a pretty little girl like you Stephie. Don't

they?"



I laughed at my reflection. I did look pretty silly. And I realized

she was just playing with me and I turned to look at her and crossed

my eyes and made a funny face. And she giggled.



She took them off me and said. "These will be perfect for him." And

as she looked them over one last time, it crossed my mind how weak

the lens had seemed to be. They really had no effect on my vision.

But then, they were meant for dad.



Satisfied with her choice, stepmother took my hand. "Well c'mon

sweetie. Let's pay for them and head for home."



As we walked for the front of the store, I heard a voice call from

behind. "Oh Mrs. Crandall! Is that you?"



We both turned and looked. Just like stepmother, I immediately

recognized who it was. And I quickly hung my head in fear and stared

at the floor.



"Hi Dr. Lytle." Stepmother answered, as the principal of my school

approached us.



Sensing my fear, stepmother whispered to me. "Let me handle this

one." And I was glad for that. This certainly was not the place for

the over the top, well mannered pretty little girl routine I'd just

performed for Mrs. Bates.



Now stepmother was an active parent in my school and started off by

engaging him in PTA matters. And I just kept my eyes glued to the

floor and said nothing. I was so scared, I started wetting myself.

And not just a little trickle, like in church. But my diapers and

rhumba panties seemed to be containing the flood.



Dr. Lytle, thankfully, didn't oogle and gush over me at all, like

women did. He really didn't pay that much attention to me. But he was

a polite man. And when the PTA ended, he asked. "Is this your

daughter Mrs. Crandall?"



Stepmother gave him the explanation. And I looked up as little as

possible and never directly into his face. I offered only simple, one

word answers of "hello" and "yes" and "no".



When the explanation ended, he said. "You know, I can see the family

resemblance a bit." And he shook stepmother's hand. "Well, I'll let

you two go. I'll see you at PTA Mrs. Crandall. And say hi to Stephen

for me. Tell him I'll see him in school next week."



I was still looking down when I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Nice

to meet you Stephanie!"



"Thank you." Was all I replied.



Then in a hushed voice, which I could hear though, he said to

stepmother. "I think she's had a little accident." And he was gone.



I gasped. I hadn't realized that pee was dripping down my legs and

just about to reach the lacey top of my anklets.



"Well, c'mon. Chop! Chop! Gotta get you home and cleaned up and

changed sweetie." And she paid for the glasses and left.



As we walked, I started to sob.



"Oh Stephie. No tears. What's another wet diaper to you?" She said.

"Besides, cheer up, you've passed three tests today with fying

colors. Now will you believe me when I say you'll be fine?"



"Yes mommy." And I was quite pleased with that.



We got all the way home with, fortunately, no interruptions and no new "tests".



I carefully walked through the living room, to avoid dripping on the

carpet. Laura was sitting on the couch watching cartoons on TV.



"Ha ha! Ha ha! Sissy boy wet his diapers!" She taunted when she saw

the pee running down my legs.



"Shut up Laura!" Stepmother scolded. "I'm sure Stephie won't be the

only one who wets her diapers today!"



And she did shut up.



I headed upstairs to get cleaned up and into fresh diapers. About

half an hour later, as I tugged new rhumba diaper panties around my

dipaers, I heard stepmother call from downstairs. "Hurry up Stephie.

Dinner's almost on the table."



"I'm almost done mommy." I shouted.



"And knock on Laura's door and tell her to get down here for dinner."

She added.



"I will. " I yelled and stepped out my door.



Laura must have tired of her stupid cartoons I figured, as I gave a

knock on her door. "Supper time Laura." And I headed down for the

kitchen.



I sipped my milk as stepmother set dinner on the table. Before long,

Laura walked into the kitchen and headed for her chair next to mine.

And she was extremely upset and crying very hard. When she sat down,

I almost gagged. I covered my nose and mouth with my hand. "Pew!!!" I

cried.



Dad fanned his face and stepmother opened the outside kitchen door

for fresh air.



And now it was my turn. "Ha ha! Ha ha! Sissy girl wet AND POOPED her diapers!"



"Oh leave her alone Stephie. Though God knows she deserves it."

Stepmother said.



I started to eat but was losing my appetite quickly. The smell was

awful. "Mommy, she stinks to high heavens! Can't she eat in her

bedroom?" I complained.



"No Stephie." She said crossly. "Now you know how we feel when you

have stinky, poopy diapers!"



Laura perked up a little with the scolding I was given and said.

""Yeah Stephie! And besides, I don't think I smell that bad!"



All three of us laughed at her and stepmother said. "Well that's

because you're smelling yourself. It's you smelling YOU!"



"Yeah???" Laura said with a look of confusion on her face.



Stepmother gave it another shot. "Did you ever hear the

expression---It's all in the eye of the beholder?"



"Yeah."



"Well in your case Laura, it's all in the NOSE of the

be--ah--be--um---the be-smeller!"



Dad and I roared at stepmother's little quip, as Laura thought for a moment.



"But bees don't smell, mom!" She replied.



"Never mind Laura. Forget it." Stepmother said with a chuckle.



"What a twit!" I laughed, looking at Laura.



"Shut up sissy boy!" Laura yelled. "Besides, this is all your fault

and I'm gonna get you back!"



"Both of you shut up and eat your dinner and don't let me hear

another word from either of you!" Dad hollered.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part12



The remaining week before the start of school went by too quickly and

not quick enough. I viewed going back with equal amounts of

anticipation and trepidation.



I was looking forward to going back because then I'd get to be a boy

again, at least for the time I'd be in school. And I'd get to act and

behave carry on and dress as a boy, instead of some prissy, pretty

little girl. And I wouldn't have to wear and use diapers! I'd get to

use a toilet, at least while in school anyways.



But I feared going back too! I wondered how I'd be perceived. My hair

was pretty much back to normal, except for the bangs and being a few

inches longer. And it certainly wouldn't be in braids and ribbons. I

worried about how noticeable my pierced ear lobes would be. But I

worried most about the girl, Sally Jo Reynolds, who was the cousin of

one of the Hummingbird girls at Sunnyvale. Would she be aware of how

I spent my summer at camp? And most frightening, would she indeed

have the horrifying video of me that Lisa and the Hummingbird girls

had made?



But as the week progressed, I tried to focus on the positive--being a

boy again and using a toilet again. I stayed close to home as best I

could. But there certainly were times when stepmother took me and

Laura here and there, for one reason or another. And that meant

"tests" I'd have to pass. But I did pass.



By midweek, the weather turned from warm but pleasant to quite hot

and humid. Temps in the high eighties and low nineties.



Because of the awful heat and humidity, stepmother allowed me to just

wear light, simple sundresses without petticoats much of the time.

And a single cloth diaper without plastic lined diaper pants, to

avoid chafing. That made things a lot cooler for me but there was a

downside. Without petticoats, my diaper bulge was obvious and even

the slightest little breeze blew my dress up like a kite, exposing my

diapers. I spent a lot of time girlishly flouncing and swishing my

dress to mask the diaper bulge. And I held on to it for dear life if

there was even the tiniest breeze.



By Saturday morning though, the oppressive heat and humidity

subsided. And stepmother got a phone call from Mrs. Bates inviting me

and Laura and stepmother over for lunch. Mrs. Bates was eager for

Constance and I to meet. I wasn't eager though.



"Certainly Mrs. Bates. We'd love to. But I'm afraid it'll just be me

and Stephanie. Laura has a soccer game this afternoon, but my husband

can take her to it." I heard her say into the phone.



Fully diapered and rhumba pantied again, stepmother had me dress in

my pink gingham outfit.



We got to the Bates' house a little after noon. Mrs. Bates introduced

me to Constance and Master Bates. Well, Mrs. Bates did actually refer

to him as "Edward" this time. But I couldn't help giggling a bit when

I met him.



As we ate lunch, I again did my "charming and well mannered young

lady" routine. Constance did too, though her's was real. And

Constance was actually more prissy than I was.



After lunch, Constance whisked me upstairs to her bedroom. She was

very eager to show me her extensive American Girls doll collection

and matching outfits. I pretended interest, wanting to keep up

appearances. As we sat on the floor playing with them, Mrs. Bates and

stepmother appeared in the doorway and smiled at the two pretty

little girls playing dolls.



Constance looked up and asked. "Can Stephanie and I pick out a doll

and dress up in the matching outfits? Please!"



I groaned, and before I could protest, Mrs. Bates replied. "Of course

Constance. That's a lovely idea. Stephanie's a little bigger than you

but I think she can get into one."



Constance chose her Prairie Girl doll and matching dress and bonnet.

"She's my favorite!" She said.



For me, Constance insisted that I pick the Schoolgirl doll, circa

1950's. "She's perfect for you Stephanie. She has long, dark braids

like you."



I really didn't care. No one doll was any less horrible than the others.



"We'll leave you two to change. Then come on down so we can see."

Mrs. Bates said as she closed the bedroom door.



We started to change into our outfits and I turned my back to

Constance. I knew it would be wrong for me to see her undress and

dress. And I had no interest in seeing that. But Constance, of

course, didn't care. To her, we were both eight year old little girls.



As I pulled my gingham dress off over my head, I heard a laugh and

then felt Constance's hand patting the seat of my rhumba panties. I

realized that the back of my petticoats must have been pulled up with

my dress.



"Diapers Stephanie?" She giggled.



I turned to look her with a frown on my red face and a few tears

trickling from my eyes.



"I sometimes have accidents." I pouted.



"It's okay Stephanie." She comforted. "I sometimes do too, at night.

So my mommy puts diapers on me at bedtime."



She really was a sweet little girl I thought. And regarding diapers,

we were kindred spirits.



Before long, two sweet little girls walked downstairs, each carrying

the dolly that they matched almost perfectly with. One Praire Girl,

complete with a bonnet and one Schoolgirl, complete with a wide

brimmed white hat atop her dangling braids.



Naturally, Mrs. Bates and stepmother just oogled and gushed all over us.



"Let's take these precious American Girls to Dairy Queen as a treat!"

Mrs. Bates said looking at stepmother. "We can walk, can't we? It's

not that far, is it?"



"No, it's not far Mrs. Bates." Stepmother replied. "I think that's a

splendid idea."



Splendid would not have been the word I'd have chosen.



With Master Bates, well--"Edward" along, we all headed for Dairy

Queen. Constance took my free hand in her's as we walked along

clutching our dolls. I felt soooo silly!



During our walk, and at Dairy Queen, we got lots of looks and

attention. But all, very well meaning. Well meaning, that is until to

my horror, I saw dad pull up to Dairy Queen in the van with Laura and

a gaggle of girls from her soccer team. The game must have ended and

it was time for a frosty treat for them.



Laura and her Tomboy teammates had a field day with me and Constance.

Well, mostly just me really. I was the brunt of a lot of teasing and

laughter, led by Laura of course.



"Well, Fairy Queen's come to Dairy Queen!!!" She called and her mates

roared with laughter. And before dad and stepmother could rein her

in, she had lifted up the back of my schoolgirl skirt and petticoats

to give her friends a good look at my diapers and rhumba panties.



"Do you want to be punished like last Sunday Laura?" Stepmother

warned. And that put a quick end to it.



The long Labor Day weekend passed, thankfully, with no more

embarrassing incidents or silly situations for me. We didn't go to

church on Sunday and I was glad for that. Monday, Labor Day, we had a

simple family cookout in the backyard. Tuesday was the actual start

of school, but only for teachers and staff. They had meetings to go

to. And it rained most of Tuesday and I just hung around the house

pondering going back to school the next day.



Tuesday night, as I headed for bed in my nitey and diapers,

stepmother said to me. "I'm gonna get you up a little early, sweetie,

to get Stephen ready for school."



It was a restless night for me. I couldn't wait to be a boy again and

out of diapers too. Well, at least during school hours. But I also

had a lot of fears about going back to school too!

[BetBots]

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--parts 13 & 14 by sissycaroline



Part 13



Wednesday morning--6:20AM, I woke up on my own before the buzz of my

alarm clock or the wakeup knock on the door from stepmother. I just

laid there in my soggy diapers thinking about the day ahead of me. I

tried to focus on only the things I looked forward to and not the

things I feared.



The bathroom was free so I seized the opportunity to shower and brush

my teeth. Done, I wrapped the towel around me and headed back to my

room. Stepmother was in the hallway knocking on Laura's door and she

smiled at me. "Wow, you're an eager beaver Stephie, I mean Stephen!"



It was good to be called "Stephen", if only for the next eight or so

hours. And I was an "eager beaver" about getting dressed. It would be

my first time in boys' clothes since the day I left for camp in the

beginning of summer.



It felt so wonderful to put on B.V.D.'s and an undershirt, instead of

diapers and rhumba panties and a bra. No lacy anklets or Mary Janes.

Instead, black crew socks and my loafers. Even my dress shirt was a

thrill. But the best was putting on my slacks. It felt so good to

wear pants again.



I stood in front of the mirror and combed through my hair, leaving it

just falling loosely about my shoulders like I'd always done. I

parted my bangs and combed them back to the sides, as best I could,

to make them look less apparent. I looked pretty good, pretty normal

I thought.



A knock on the door and stepmother called. "Can I come in Stephen?"



"Yup." I replied. "I'm all set."



She entered. "You look just fine Stephen. Like normal."



Then she walked over to my dresser and picked up a small bottle of

CoverGirl liquid makeup foundation and stood in front of me. "One

final touch Stephen." She said and she unscrewed the cap.



"What??? No!" I argued.



"Relax Stephen. Trust me!" And she dabbed her finger in the makeup

and applied a small amount on each of my earlobes. "This will help

cover the holes in your pierced ears. And with your hair over your

ears, no one will notice."



"Thank you. Good idea." I said.



At the breakfast table, dad looked up from his morning paper. "Hey! I

have to admit, it's great to see Stephen again."



If only he knew how great it was to BE Stephen again, I thought. But

then again, he had to know how it felt.



I finished my breakfast just as Laura stepped into the kitchen, still

in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes.



She looked at me. "Oh poop! Nasty old Stephen again."



"Be quiet Laura and sit down and eat your breakfast." Stepmother told her.



I got up from the table and picked up my school binder. "Well I guess

I better get going."



"Have a good first day back at school Stephen." Stepmother said as I

walked for the door. Dad wished me the same.



"Don't forget and wet or poop your underwear Stephen!" Laura taunted.



"Shut up Laura!" Dad hollered at her.



As I turned the doorknob, stepmother called. "Hold up Stephen. I

almost forgot. One more thing."



"But I gotta get going!" I cried.



"Won't take but a minute Stephen." She said as she raced into the living room.



She returned in a moment holding a pair of back rimmed eyeglasses.

They were the glasses we'd bought last week at Walgreens. And before

I could stop her, she put them on me and smiled. "Okay, all set now

Stephen."



"But I don't wear glasses." I protested. "I don't need them. My

vision is twenty/twenty."



"True Stephen, you don't need them for your vision." She said. "But

you do need them to distance Stephen from Stephie. Stephen wears

glasses. Stephanie doesn't. And you'll notice that there's no

magnification with the lens. Strictly for looks."



I had noticed that at Walgreens. "But stepmother!"



"Look at it this way Stephen. For years and years, Clark Kent has put

on glasses like yours. " She explained. "And no one recognizes him as

Superman. Glasses will help to make sure that no one recognizes

Stephen Crandall as Supergirl Stephie."



I frowned and she apologized. "Sorry Stephen. I couldn't resist the

Supergirl thing."



"But that's just movies and TV and comics!" I said.



"Of course Stephen." She said. "But the glasses won't hurt. Besides,

they hide your girlishly plucked and curved eyebrows."



I hadn't thought about my eyebrows. "Yeah, I guess you're right." And

I headed out to walk to school. As I walked, I hoped my friends, well

acquaintances really, wouldn't perceive me as anything other than

Stephen. I didn't really have close, real friends. Just kids I knew.

I'd always been a loner. Given my new circ-umstances, perhaps that was

a good thing now.



The morning, and through lunch, went without a hitch really. I did

get a few comments like "Hey man. You really need a haircut." But

nothing that was any kind of a problem. Nobody really bothered me.

And I revelled in wearing pants and, strange as it sounds, using the

lavatory.



My last class of the day was math. The teacher called out the names

on his class roster. As he made his way through the alphabet, I heard

him call "Sally Jo Reynolds."



I turned around and saw a hand go up in the back of the room and

heard a voice reply. "Here!"



She saw me looking her way and grinned at me.



Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part14



When math class ended, I made a beeline for my locker to get my

things and get on my way home. I was eager that my first day remain

"incident" free. And I didn't want to be confronted by Sally Jo

Reynolds, if she was indeed a threat to me.



Out the school door I stepped. Walking along, I relished my boy's

clothes and lack of diapers. I'd soon be home and it'd be "Stephie

time" again until morning.



I walked into the front door and stepmother greeted me. "So how was

your first day back Stephen?"



"Okay, no problems." I replied.



"Good Stephen. I knew you'd be fine." She smiled.



"Stepmother, I gotta get...."



"It's MOMMY, here at home Stephie!" She interrupted.



I groaned. "Mommy, I gotta get a special kind of calculator for math

class." And I took a slip of paper from my shirt pocket. "I wrote

down the make and model number. My math teacher said the best place

to find it is at Office Depot."



"Well, we can go after supper. I'm sure Laura will have to get some

things for school too and she can get them there. Now upstairs you go

sweetie pie. Time for you to get all 'Stephied up' now." She said.



"Aw mommy, can't that wait until after we go to Office Depot?" I

pleaded. "I mean, we're going on school business. So can't I stay in

my school clothes?"



"Nice try Stephie." She laughed. "But no cigar! The rule is that you

only dress as Stephen when you're in school. And you're not in school

now and Office Depot certainly isn't school either. No arguments. Off

you go."



I moaned and headed for the stairs.



"Oh sweetie." Stepmother called, as I climbed the first step. "Just

get into your diapers and rhumba panties and training bra and then

call for me. I got you a new outfit this afternoon. I want to see how

it fits and you'll need my help with it. And I'll even do your braids

for you!"



"Yes mommy. " I mumbled.



"Oh---blue lace trimmed rhumba panties Stephie!" She added.



"Yes mommy."



"Oh God!" I thought. "What horrid confection does she have for me now?"



Since we were going out, I heavily diapered myself with four Depends,

even though I had peed twice at school. I didn't want a "leaking"

repeat of my trip to Walgreens the week before. As I pulled up my

blue lace trimmed rhumba panties, I wished I'd had a BM at school

too. I hooked my training bra in place and called down to stepmother.



A minute later, she walked into my room carrying a hanger with a

light blue, cotton dress on it. "What do you think Stephie?"



"It's nice mommy." Was all I said.



As she picked out a full petticoat from my closet and a pair of blue

lace trimmed anklets from my dresser, I looked it over. And it

actually was nice, as far as dresses go. It was pretty simple, almost

plain, compared to my other very "ornate" dresses. It was powder blue

with a simple Peter Pan collar. Its puffed short sleeves were edged

with matching plain, white trim. The very full skirt of the dress

appeared to be knee length, or just slightly above it. No lace or

frills of any kind edged the hem. It buttoned up the back. The bodice

met the skirt of the dress with a simple, elasticized seam. No sash

or bow to tie in the back.



With my petticoats and anklets on, stepmother helped me into the

dress. "You know, if this fits you right and you like it, it also

comes in a light green too Stephie."



"Yes please mommy." I said. Simpler dresses were good with me.



She strapped black Mary Janes onto my feet and stood me in front of

the full length mirror. "It fits perfectly honey! Don't you think?

I'll get the green one tomorrow."



"Yes mommy." I replied.



Then she did my braids and finished them off with matching light blue

ribbons. And I headed downstairs to watch TV before dinner.



As I clicked on the set, dad walked in from work. "New dress Stephie?"



"Yes daddy."



"Well it looks very pretty on you Stephanie!" He smiled. "And how was

day one of school sweetheart?"



"Fine daddy. No problems."



After dinner, stepmother, Laura and I drove to Office Depot. Laura

and stepmother headed in one direction for felt tipped markers and

pocket folders for Laura and I headed for the aisle with calculators.

I felt a little scared. I was by myself and there were lots of

parents and kids shopping for school supplies like we were. And there

were probably kids from my school in the store. But I had fooled

everyone so far, so why should this be any different I thought. And

besides, I wasn't dressed so "prissy" and "frilly" like I usually

was. My simple dress made me feel a lot less selfconscious.



I took the slip of paper from the palm of my hand and opened it and

started scanning the shelves for the right calculator. I quickly

spied it and took it off the shelf to examine more closely.



As I did a few calculations on it, I felt the very slight brush of

somebody against the back, right side of my dress and petticoats. And

I turned to find myself staring directly into the face of Sally Jo

Reynolds!!! And she grinned at me exactly like she had earlier in

math class. I turned away in a nano second and heard stepmother call

from my left. "Is that the right calculator sweetheart?"



She couldn't have shown up at a more opportune moment. "Yes mommy."

And then, thinking quickly on my feet, I added. "This is the one HE

needs."



"Great." She said. "C'mon, Laura's still got a few more things to get."



I sneaked a quick peek over my right shoulder again to find Sally Jo

examining the same calculator as mine. And I prayed that I had dodged

a bullet.



As we walked to find Laura, I realized my diapers were quite damp. I

had wet myself, in fear, just like I had done at Walgreens the week

before. And I was very distressed over the habit I seemed to be

falling into of wetting my diapers when I was scared. At least, there

appeared to be no leaks. I had been wise to diaper myself so heavily.



We found Laura hemming and hawing over which pocket folders to get.

When she finally made a decision, it was on to find spiral notebooks

and number two pencils.



I tugged on stepmother's skirt and whispered. "Mommy, I wet my

diapers and I think I'm gonna have to poop them any second!"



She took my calculator and put it in the shopping cart with Laura's

things and then reached into her purse. "Here's the car keys." She

whispered. "Wait in the van for us. And be sure to open the windows

if you poop yourself."



Now I really regretted that I hadn't had a BM at school. I headed

through the crowd of shoppers as quickly as I could. And just as

quickly, my need to poop increased.



As I neared the exit, I exploded into the seat of my diapers. I

rushed through the doors and took a quick look back over my shoulder.

And to my horror, I saw Sally Jo not far behind me, grinning and

pinching her nose.



Laura complained the whole ride home about my smelly diapers.



"She can't help it Laura." Stepmother scolded. "Stop making such a

big stink over it!"



"I'm not the one making the big stink mom." Laura argued. "Stephie is!"



Later in bed, I struggled to fall asleep thinking about Sally Jo Reynolds.

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part15



The second day of school, like the first, was pretty uneventful thankfully. And again in math class, when I turned around to take a quick look at Sally Jo Reynolds, she just grinned like before at me. And after class, she didn't approach me at all. I hopefully reckoned that she hadn't recognized me as the poopy, stinky little girl at Office Depot the night before.



Walking to school on day three, I felt reasonably confident. But when I returned to my locker after lunch, there was a pink envelope stuck in the louvered vent of it. Written on it was simply "S. Crandall". I opened it.



It read:



I hope you enjoyed your summer. I have a little gift for you that I think you'll be happy to receive. Meet me at my locker after school today by 3:20 and I'll give it to you. Locker number 969, just down from the library.



Sally Jo Reynolds



I thought about nothing else but her note for the remainder of the afternoon, and especially in math class, where all she did was give me the "grin" again.



At 3:10, math ended and I went to my locker and got my things for home. By 3:20, I found her standing alone in front of her locker and I hesitantly approached her. "Hi Sally Jo. I got your note."



"So I see." She said, as she reached into her purse and pulled out a small video cassette. "Here." And she handed it to me.



The label on it read: Camp Sissy Curls--summer, 2006.



"That's quite a performance you give in it!" She giggled. "Seems you had a very unusual summer."



Lisa had been true to her word. No surprise there really.



"Well--ah--um--yes." I stammered. "Thank you for this." I said as I took the video from her. "I really appreciate it."



"Anxious to see yourself on tape?" She asked.



"No, not at all." I was red faced with embarrassment and eager to end our little meeting. "Well, thanks again Sally Jo." And I turned to head out.



"No problem sweetie." She called after me. "I got three other copies of it at home!"



I turned back around. "What???"



"You heard me. I got three other copies of it." She grinned.



"Well, ahhh, can I please have them too?" I asked.



"No, you can't HAVE them. But you can EARN them!" She replied, with a devilish gleam in her eye.



"What do you mean by -- earn them?" I asked, not eager to hear her answer.



"Oh, you just have to do a few simple, little things that I ask you to do." She laughed. "If you meet me here the same time tomorrow, I'll let you earn one. Okay?"



"Well, what will I have to do?"



"Oh, nothing too difficult. You'll see." She chuckled. "Tomorrow then?"



"Okay, I guess so." I groaned and started to leave again, only to be held in place by one final comment from her.



"Oh, and by the way, thanks for the help with the calculator the other night at Office Depot!"



"Huh? What do you mean?" I asked.



"Well, I wasn't sure which calculator was the correct one we needed for math class. So I just bought the one that you--ah--well--shall I say, Stephie bought."



Now I was really red with embarrassment and felt a tear trickle down my face.



Sally Jo pinched my cheek and whispered. "You looked very pretty Stephie. STINKY, but pretty!" And she grinned. "See you tomorrow, same time--same place."



As I walked home, all I could think was, "over the proverbial barrel again."

[sissycaroline]

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part16

3:20PM, the next day. Sally Jo smiled as I met her at her locker. "Hi sweetie. Right on time! Ready to earn a tape?" And she opened her purse and took it out briefly for me to see.

"Yeah, I suppose." I mumbled.

"Well, I just want you to do a little shopping errand for me on your walk home. Get a few things that I need at Walgreens for me." And she handed me three ten dollar bills and a shopping list.

I looked over the list and gasped in horror. The list included specific types and brands of lipstick, nail polish, makeup, hair rollers, and Kotex Tampons.

I groaned and pleaded. "Please, I can't buy these girl things!"

"Well, then I can't give you this video!" She replied.

I had no choice. I gulped and asked. "Can I have the video first?"

"No way! I'll be following close behind you and when you give me the purchases, I'll give you your first tape." She grinned. "I promise."

I started out, only to be stopped by her. "Hold on, I almost forgot!" And she reached into her purse and pulled out a small paper bag with something stuffed inside it.

She handed it to me. "Take these into the boys lavatory and put them on under your things. I'll check to see that you have them on under your clothes when you come out." She warned.

A minute later, I stood in a stall, door closed, in the boys lavatory. I opened the bag and took out a pair of white, lace trimmed panties and a matching bra. They were obviously unlaundered and obviously, Sally Jo's. Probably from the day before. There were even a few "skid marks" in the seat of the panties. It wasn't pretty!

I removed my pants and underwear. I gritted my teeth as I pulled her panties up onto me. Now Sally Jo was actually a very cute, pretty girl. Someone who, under normal circ-umstances, would certainly catch my eye. Someone who, under normal circ-umstances, I'd love to get "up close and personal" with. But not like this. Her panties were gross and ripe with her scent.

I put my own underwear in my pants pocket and pulled them up over the panties. I removed my shirt and tee shirt and strapped on the bra and put them back on over it. I pushed the bra cups in as much as possible to keep my front flat. I tucked my shirttails in loosely to give more bulk to the shirt and show less "mounds" from the bra. I looked in the mirror, over my shoulder, at the back of my shirt. Fortunately, I couldn't see bra straps under it. And I left the lavatory.

Sally Jo greeted me. "All set?" And she put her hand on the back of my shirt and gave the bra strap a little snap. "Good." She giggled. Then she looked around to see that the coast was fairly clear and she reached under the back of my shirt and into the back of my pants to feel the nylon and lace of her panties. Satisfied, she said. "Perfect, sissy boy. You're ready for your shopping errand."

She followed behind me as I headed out, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. I kept "fluffing" my shirt out in front to avoid having "mounds" show under it. And it appeared to work. No one seemed to notice.

But a lot of people noticed me in Walgreens as I carried a hand basket and proceeded to fill it with makeup and lipstick and nail polish and hair rollers and, especially, tampons. I shopped as quickly as I could, though I was careful to get exactly what was on the list. I didn't want to have to come back in.

At the checkout, the cashier just rolled her eyes as she rang up my items.

"They're for my mother." I lamely mumbled. "She's sick and house bound."

She bagged my items and gave me the receipt and change. And as I left, I heard a woman behind me in line say to her husband something about a "boy" and a "pervert" and a "bra".

Outside, I gave Sally Jo the receipt and change and bag. She inspected the contents and when satisfied with the items, she gave me the video.

"One down, two to go." I thought.

"Good job sissy boy!" She said. And then she laughed. "And as an extra reward, you can keep my panties and bra. You're such a little sissy pervert, you'll probably get off in them when you get home!"

"No I won't. They're gross!" I cried.

I quickly rushed home and upstairs and got out of the panties and bra and stuffed them into a plastic bag. I popped the video, like I had done with the other, into the VCR in my room and played a little of it to make sure it was "authentic" and tossed it into the bag. I twist tied it closed and put it outside in the trash. And I went back upstairs and got all "Stephied" up.