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Author Topic: The Sissy-Girly Game  (Read 37232 times)

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sissykimmy1

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Chapter 8 – Let's Play Pool Princess
« Reply #7 on: February 12, 2013, 04:54:41 AM »
Chapter 8 – Let's Play Pool Princess



I woke up from a bad dream the morning of my first day back in sixth grade.  I had been standing in front of my old class at school giving a report when suddenly I realized I was wearing nothing but lacy anklet socks, pearl white patent leather Mary Janes, and a pair of white cotton panties decorated with lavender flowers.  I looked at my fingernails and saw them painted in matching lavender polish.   I was holding a bouquet of purple flowers in one hand and a fancy, old fashioned doll in a prissy lavender dress in the other.  I reached up to my hair and felt it tied up in a pony tail with a ribbon and I could tell my face was made up as well.  The entire class was pointing and laughing at the tent in my panties.  I reached down to cover myself up with the flowers and the doll but they only laughed harder.  I wet myself in fear and the urine ran down my leg to the floor of the classroom before I burst awake from the terrible fantasy.   The humiliating warm wetness, however, was real. I could feel the flow stopping as I awoke.



I rolled out of bed and stood, my legs wobbled.  In a numb haze I started to walk from my room. On the way I passed my prissy lavender back-to-school dress as it hung on the door of my closet, ready and waiting.  I knocked quietly on Mother's door before entering.  I realized I was up half an hour early.  I sat down on the bed beside her and started to cry.  In a few moments I felt her stir awake and put her arm around me.



“Samantha, what's wrong?” Mother asked.



“I'm wet again.  I don't wanna go to school.  I'm just a big bed wetting baby.  I want to stay here with you,” I whined.



She comforted me for a few minutes until my crying and whining subsided.  She looked over at the clock and realized it was early, “Samantha, did you wake up when it was happening, dear?



Ashamed of myself, I nodded, “Yes, Mother.”



She smiled and tried to encourage me, “Well, that's progress, Samantha.  It never happened before.  You almost made it through the night and you almost woke up in time!  Your bedwetting days will be over soon, trust me!  You're not a baby and you ARE going to school today. If it doesn't work out I told you I will homeschool you but you made this decision and you have to see it through.  Now go and get ready.”



“Yes, Mother,” I replied with a pout.



A little while later I was glumly helping Mother make breakfast.  My apron covered my back to school outfit to keep it bright and clean.  I wore a lavender reverse knot ruffle dress.  The fabric was soft and light and the print was accented with jewels and crowns and tiaras, emphasizing what a pampered little princess I had become.  There was a white ruffle at the hem with purple polka dots.  I wore a white cardigan and white tights and lavender canvas Mary Janes with a white flower on the buckle.



The french braid in my hair had grown long over the months and it hung down over my shoulder onto my chest where I saw the lavender bow that tied it off.  I wore my pearl necklace as usual, clip on gold earrings with a purple stone, and Mother had given me two thin white gold and diamond bracelets to wear.  She warned me they were expensive and that I had to be very careful not to lose them.  I was only half listening as I admired the small sparkly diamonds, but if she had told me how expensive they really were I probably would have been too afraid to leave the house with them.  In truth, with my expensive dress and jewelry and pink designer bookbag my entire ensemble was worth more than my old family's ancient beat up used car.  It hadn't entirely dawned on me yet how privileged I had become.



Just as we finished preparing breakfast the phone rang and I picked it up.  I answered as I had been trained, “Hello, Donovan residence, this is Samantha.”



The line was silent for a moment.



“Sa..who?” I heard a deep female voice say in confusion.



“Hello?” I asked.



“Is my...is Mrs. Donovan there?” the voice asked nervously.



“Whom may I say is calling?” I primly inquired.



“I'm her...I'm Cameron,” the voice replied. “Who are you?”



“I'm her...daughter,” I replied, to silence.  With a shrug I turned to Mother,  â€śMother, someone named Cameron is calling for you.”



Her face turned white.  She ordered me to take my breakfast up to my room.  I figured it must have been an important call about her design business.  Of course, that didn't explain the muffled crying I thought I heard later.



Mother drove me to school.   I would usually take the bus but she needed to drop me off to talk to the Principal for my first day.  She was unusually quiet and withdrawn.  I looked down at one of the sparkly tiaras on my dress.  I hated tiaras.



-



For a while one summer we had a babysitter named Annabelle.  Mom and Dad were sick of leaving us unsupervised only to come home and find Kelly crying because, “My stupid big brother is dressing in my clothes again!” so they would drop us off at Annabelle's house every day.



Annabelle was a nineteen year old beautiful redhead who was home for the summer from college and had quite a temper.  We disliked each other right from the start and I did everything I could to stay out of her way.  My sister, of course, took an instant liking to her.



The most fun I had the first few days was swimming in the large pool they had in their backyard.  I stayed out there for hours.  Annabelle and Kelly had the same idea though, and the constant laughter and teasing finally ruined the fun for me.



From then on I started to stay inside and read instead, but the more I heard the giggling and laughter from outside the more I knew it was most likely targeted in my direction.  If I knew Kelly, she was telling our babysitter everything about my least favorite game, or at least some of the details.



A week later, my fears proved prescient.  I was sitting inside reading as usual when Annabelle walked up and snatched the book from me.  She was wet from the pool and wearing a black bikini that would normally make a boy drool but I had other things to worry about.



“Hey, give it back!” I demanded but she held it out of my reach.



“You spend too much time indoors, come outside and go swimming with us again.  It's beautiful out there!” she told me.



“I didn't bring my swimsuit,” I replied, falling directly into the trap that had been set for me.



Annabelle grinned, “Oh, don't worry, I'm sure we can find a spare.”



She took my hand and started leading my up the stairs.  â€śShe means one from her father,” I thought. “She means one her boyfriend left here,” I thought.  â€śShe doesn't mean that.  Please, she doesn't mean something like that,” I thought as she opened the door in front of me.



Annabelle shoved me into the room.  I saw pink walls and a pink bed and dolls and flowers and princess posters and knew I was doomed.  Annabelle had a little sister too.  She was away at summer camp.



I screamed as I felt a sudden shove and collapsed onto the floor.  A familiar high pitched jovial voice rang out, “Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game!”



Kelly had been hiding in the room waiting for us.  I tried to turn and get up.  I couldn't let her do this to me in front of a hot older girl.  It would be infuriating and humiliating, but I was too slow.  Before I could find my feet Kelly pounced on me, pinned me, and started pulling hard on my hair.  I screamed.  



“Stop it!  Stop it!” I begged. “Annabelle, get her off me! Kelly, what are you doing?” I screamed, trying to act as if this was not a regular occurrence for me.



I could hear Annabelle laughing at the sight of a fully clothed boy being beat up by a little girl in a  bathing suit.  Clearly our babysitter was not going to be my salvation.  I redoubled my efforts to fight but Kelly slapped my hands away and resumed yanking at my hair.  



Kelly kept me pinned down as I struggled and addressed Annabelle as if I couldn't hear her, “It always takes him a few minutes to give up.  It's part of the fun for him!  You know how boys like to fight.  Once he's got that silliness out of his system we can get down to the part he REALLY likes!”



“I don't like any of it!” I screamed.



Kelly laughed and stopped pulling my hair.  I looked up and sneered at her.  I hated her so much.  



“Sometimes he just needs to be reminded he's really a prissy little girl at heart before he gives up.  Like if I spit on a boy...that would never make him say it.”  She cleared her throat and started to lean over my face.  This had gotten me to break before.  I grimaced and shut my eyes.  She could see that I was determined to take it this time.  



“Or....” she continued.



I opened my eyes.  She jammed a finger up her nose and retrieved a disgusting green booger.   She started to reach towards my face.  I forgot about Annabelle watching.  I forgot about everything but how much I hated my stupid sister and didn't want her stupid booger touching me and almost involuntarily I shouted in a practiced, high pitched girly voice, “I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!”  



Kelly smiled in satisfaction and flicked the booger away.  Annabelle laughed until she was crying, “He said it!  I can't believe he really said it!   You are the meanest little sister in the world, Kelly!”



Kelly smiled at what was, between the two of them, a compliment.  I stood up and rubbed my head as Kelly replied to Annabelle, “So, that's how it's done.  You wanna take your turn?”



“Of course!” Annabelle replied. “Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game!” Annabelle ran towards me as my eyes opened in shock.  If I couldn't fight off my little sister there was no way I was going to be able to fight off my babysitter.  I turned around to run, but of course there was nowhere for me to go.  Annabelle grabbed my left wrist and bent it back.  I screamed in pain.  My other hand shot out to my side and I held it limply while I stood on my toes.  Kelly had grabbed my wrist this way when she was training me to walk like a girl in heels and my reaction was involuntarily.



Annabelle laughed hysterically, “He's a natural fairy!  Isn't he?”



Kelly nodded at her with a smile.  Annabelle tossed me on the bed and pinned me and started to playfully slap at my cheeks.  â€śDon't make me hurt you...Samantha,” Annabelle warned with a giggle.



But something else besides the game was now occupying my mind.  I was pinned to the bed by a beautiful wet older girl dressed only in a bikini.  Her breasts bounced in front of me as her warm hands kept touching my face.



“Just say it, Samantha.  Say it for me like you did your little sister!” she teased as she continued to straddle me.  



She shook me by the shoulders and repeated, “Do it!  Do it!”  I stared up into her beautiful eyes and a hint of a smile came to my lips.  The world closed in around us and my brain shut down, some drool escaped my lips.  I stopped fighting and as I went limp one part of me stayed hard.  Annabelle looked down and saw what was happening and her eyes went wide.



“I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!”  I shouted.



She moved to get off me but the inevitable had already occurred.  My body convulsed and my face twitched.  The room spun around me and I felt just the most wonderful sensation of my life.



Annabelle covered her mouth in shock, “Oh my God, he really does like this game!”



Kelly looked over at me, “He sure does, but usually not that much.”



Annabelle helped me to my feet and told me to go to the bathroom and strip.  Still in a haze I obeyed, my hatred for my babysitter now mixed with some other strange feelings I could not quite explain. I tossed my clothes out of the room on command and the bathing suit I was to borrow came in exchange.  I shuddered when I saw it.  



In a few moments I was standing before them in the most humiliating bathing suit imaginable.  With my brief moment of exhilaration over I just felt degraded and pathetic while they laughed at me.  I was wearing a purple one piece Disney Store swimsuit with screen and glitter art of Rapunzel from Tangled surrounded by embroidered pink flowers.  There were dark purple ruffle fabric rosettes across chest, double shoulder straps, and a skirt with a gathered light pink ruffle hem.  



“Oh my God, Samantha!  You're so cute! Now put these on!” Annabelle gushed as she handed me a pair of purple flip flops that matched the suit.  They featured Rapunzel screen art and had gel straps that sparkled with sequins and glitter. There was a large floral applique with a sparkly jewel in the center of the straps.



To complete the set there was a light purple hooded coverup to wear over the suit on the way to and from the pool.  There was an embroidered Rapunzel of course and there were ruffle trims around the hood opening and the sleeves.  It buttoned up with three heart shaped buttons above a delicate bow.



“Makeup time!” Kelly squealed.



“But Kelly,” I whined, “We're just going to the pool.”



Annabelle laughed, “It's okay, Samantha, we're just playing.”



“But I HATE this game.” I stamped my foot and shook my limp wristed arms at my side and pouted and they both laughed at me.  I sounded and looked exactly like the type of prissy little princess who would wear the matching Disney swimming outfit I had on.  Kelly had made sure feminine behavior was totally natural to me when we were playing the game and a lot of the time I didn't even know I was doing it.



Annabelle dragged me over to the mirror and I sat down in a practiced, feminine, demure manner to more giggles from Annabelle. “I've trained him so well!” Kelly bragged.



My face turned red in shame and anger.  I hated when she said stuff like that and she knew it, but there was nothing I could do to stop her.  They started to work together to make me up.  They made me up so heavily I looked like I would be going to a ballet recital rather than just out to the pool.  I had girly pink lips and pink eye shadow and pink blushing cheeks.  When they were done they topped everything off by putting a glittery tiara on my head and letting me soak in my appearance in the mirror.  



I was a perfect prissy pool princess.  I hated how the tight girl's bathing suit felt like it was shaping my body into that of a little girl and when I looked in the mirror I could see my appearance matched the feeling.  I started to breathe heavily and panic.  All of my masculinity was gone and my sister and babysitter had replaced it with a femininity that was impossible to deny.



While I stood in front of the mirror the girls put on jeans and t-shirts over their bathing suits and then led me downstairs and out the front door.  â€śWait...where are we going? The pool is out back,” I complained.



Annabelle laughed, “You're too pretty to hide in the back yard, Samantha.  We're going to the public pool!”



“Nooo!” I shouted but Annabelle swatted me on my behind and herded me into the car while Kelly laughed.



“I can't go out in public like this!” I continued to complain,  â€śSomeone will recognize me!”



Kelly taunted me, “Don't be silly, little sis, you're the one who said you wanted everyone to know what a prissy little sissy-girly you are!  You even said it twice!  Now everyone will know! It's a dream come true!”



I started to cry.  I was hopelessly trapped.  Kelly glared at me and ordered me not to ruin my makeup.  We finished the short drive to the public pool and Kelly dragged me out of the car.  Annabelle lifted the frilly purple coverup over my head leaving me exposed in nothing but my skirted one piece Disney princess bathing suit and flip flops and sparkly tiara.  My heart thumped in my chest and my head started to spin.  My life was about to be over. I could never live down showing up at the public pool dressed like a little girl. There had to be some way out.



Annabelle giggled as she revealed a purple and pink set of water wings and I numbly stood as she slipped them on my arms. They made my appearance even more juvenile.  Annabelle and Kelly went to the trunk of the car to get their towels and with their backs turned I saw my only chance at salvation.  I cringed at what I saw, but it was the only way and I had only an instant to act.  I sprinted away.  Someone had left a bike unattended and unlocked on the bike rack.  



I was peddling away before they even knew what happened. It was a bright pink Barbie themed bike with a white basket lined with pink flowers and pink and white streamers on the handlebars.  You can bet it didn't make me feel like any less of an effeminate little sissy to be peddling away on it in my pink and purple Rapunzel bathing suit but at least it was better than going to the public pool and almost certainly being seen by my classmates.



I started to make my way back to Annabelle's house, staying off the main roads.  I couldn't go back to my house until I got my clothes back.  I kept looking behind me in frantic fear that they might be chasing me down in the car but they were nowhere to be seen.  About a block away I got off the embarrassing pink bike and was about to ditch it when a police car drove up and stopped next to me.  The officer looked at me intently before getting out of his car to confront me.



I stood there shaking in numb fear.  Annabelle must have called the police to find me.  Or someone saw the little girl's bike being stolen and called them.  Either way, I was dead.  As I shook the officer spoke, “Little girl, if you're going to ride your bike you have to wear a helmet.  It's the law.  Those water wings may help you swim but they won't help if you fall off your bike!” he lectured.



A helmet.  He was just worried about a helmet.  Instinctively my hand went to my head and I felt the tiara perched there.  â€śI know you want to look pretty, but it's for your own good! Tiraras are for dress-up at home, not for bike riding!  Now run along home, and don't let me see you riding without a helmet again, missy!”



“Y...yes officer,” I squeaked,  â€śI'm sorry!”  I walked the rest of the way to Annabelle's house leading the bike beside me.  I left it propped up by a mailbox so it would be easy to find if the police did start looking for it.  I approached Annabelle's house but all the doors were locked.  I screamed in frustration.  I went around back and ripped off the water wings and sat down in a lounge chair by the pool to wait for my tormenters to come back and put an end to this stupid game. After a little while, exhausted by my ordeal and my frantic bike trip, I fell asleep.



I awoke to the sound of a woman and a little girl talking.  I jumped out of the chair and saw them.  There was a red haired older woman and a red haired little girl.  They both looked shocked upon seeing me.



“Mommy!  Who is that?! Why is she wearing my bathing suit and my tiara?” the little girl whined.



The mother replied, “Annabelle was babysitting while you were at camp, remember?  This girl must have forgotten her suit and...”



Suddenly the door to the house popped open and Annabelle and Kelly came out to the yard. They must have come home while I was sleeping and left me out there.



“Jimmy!  What are you wearing?!” Kelly shouted in feigned shock.



Annabelle joined in, “I know your Mother said you love to play dress-up but I only left you alone for a few minutes and now I find you out here dressed in my little sister's bathing suit?  It's very rude to do that without asking!  You should know better.”



Annabelle's little sister started to cry, “Ewwwww, it's a boy! He ruined it!  I can't wear it anymore!”



Annabelle's mother was predictably furious, “You perverted, nasty little brat!  Your parents are going to hear about this!  You are not welcome in this house ever again!”



“No,” I whined, “Please don't tell my parents, please! I'll get in so much trouble!”



“You deserve to!” she screamed back.



The frilly purple cover-up was dropped back over my head and Kelly and I were driven home.  Kelly was angry and blamed me for making it so Annabelle couldn't babysit us anymore.  As if it was my fault she had to play her stupid game.



So that's how I ended up presented to my parents dressed as a pretty little pool princess in a glittery tiara.  I was stripped out of the suit and given a wicked spanking.  The feminine tan lines were apparent for weeks. They threw out the suit and the cover-up and the flip flops but Kelly managed to sneak away the tiara.  I wore it almost every time we played the game from then on.  I really hate tiaras.



-



I was extremely conscious that all the other girls, even the first and second graders, were not dressed as girly-girl prissy as I was.  They mostly wore jeans or capris and t-shirts and sneakers and wore their hair straight while I was in a dress and tights and Mary Janes with french braided hair and pretty jewelry.  



Mother led me to my classroom and gave me a kiss goodbye on the cheek.  I had my designer pink leather bookbag on my shoulder and a shiny red apple in my hand.  I entered the classroom with butterflies dancing in my stomach.  



In accordance with my orders to be a perfect teacher's pet I went straight up to the teacher's desk and introduced myself, “Hello Mrs. Thomas.  I'm Samantha Anne Donovan. Pleased to meet you,” before handing her the apple with a smile and a little curtsy.  



“Pleased to meet you too, Samantha, you can put your things down over there,” she gestured to a desk in the front row.  Of course Mother had made sure that's where I would be sitting,  â€ś...and then I'll introduce you to the class.”



I smiled when I saw who would be sitting next to me.  It was my friend Marcie.  She was wearing a fancy blue dress that was almost as out of place as mine was.  I figured we would be the class girly-girls together.  At least I wouldn't be alone.  



Marcie smiled back and we hugged, “Hi, Samantha!” She held up an  iPhone in a purple case, “Look what I got!  We can text all the time now!” she went on, talking a mile a minute, “Why weren't you at the assembly yesterday, did you hear that we're getting a new girl in class who used to be a boy?!  Can you believe it?  What do you think she'll look like, do you think she'll be weird...”



She trailed off as she saw my face had gone screwed up like I was about to cry, but before she could ask what was wrong Mrs. Thomas led me away to the front of the class.



“Quiet down, everyone!” she instructed and received prompt obedience, “This is the new girl we talked about yesterday.  I expect you to treat her like any other girl and make her feel welcome.  If I find out that anyone is picking on her just because she's different, there is going to be big trouble!”



My cheeks burned red as I looked at my new classmates.  Nobody was pointing and laughing like in the nightmare I had about my old school.  They just seemed shocked and awed.  They had never known me as a boy, after all, and if they hadn't been told they would have just seen me as any other girl.  Now though, they knew I was different.  I felt like such a freak.  



“Say hello to Samantha Donovan, class.” Mrs. Thomas instructed.



“Hello, Samantha,” they repeated in unison, all but Marcie who was simply starring at me in open mouthed shock.  



I couldn't stand it.  She hated me now for being such a weirdo.



“H...Hi everyon..” I tried to get out, but before I could finish I burst into tears and ran from the classroom.   If I didn't have a friend, I just couldn't do this. I just couldn't do it.  I ran towards the office.  I was going to make them call Mother to bring me home.  Before I got there a hand grabbed my own from behind and stopped me.



I turned around.  It was Marcie.  She was crying now too, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry!  Don't go!” She put her arms around me and held me tightly in a bear hug, “I don't care if you're really a boy, we're still friends!” she insisted.



“We...are?” I asked in surprise.  â€śBut why did you...”



Marcie laughed through her tears, “Why didn't you tell me?  How can we be best friends when we never talk?”



“From now on,” I replied, “We tell each other everything.”



She handed me a tissue and I dried my tears.  We held hands and walked back to the classroom.  I had my friend.  My best friend.  I could do this.  From then on we sat together in every class, every day at lunch, every day on the bus, and whenever else we could. When we weren't together we were glued to our phones texting each other and driving our parents crazy. We may still have been two shy girls to everyone else, but not with each other.  She never treated me like a freak, even when other kids made fun of me behind my back.



My first day at my new school didn't end up going that badly, aside from one thing.  Marcie and I sat together at recess chatting and reading our books.  I had just finished “The Secret Garden” and had started “Little Women.” I smiled at the memory of Mr. Craven finding the secret garden in full bloom and full of happy, healthy children.  The sounds of recess reminded me of what it must have been like for him.



We saw a girl and two boys hiding behind a shed smoking cigarettes.  Marcie identified them as Jenny, Pat, and Kevin.  Marcie told me they were the most popular kids in class.  I instantly stood up and started looking for an adult.



“What are you doing, Samantha?” Marcie asked.



“Telling on them,” I replied with a blush.



“But you can't, you'll have the whole class mad at you,” she insisted.



“I have to.  Mother said so.  She said if she hears I knew about anything bad kids are doing in class and don't tell I'll be in as much trouble as if I did it myself,” I told her with concern.



“You don't always have to do what your Mother says, Samantha!” she yelled after me as I ran off.



Jenny peaked out from behind the shed and saw the new “girl” in the prissy purple dress and the  expensive jewelry running up to the teacher's aide and pointing in their direction.  My reputation as a tattle tale was set in stone from day one.  Besides Marcie, I didn't think I would be making many friends in my new class.


sissykimmy1

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Chapter 9 – Let's Play Sissy Kiss
« Reply #8 on: February 18, 2013, 10:10:57 PM »
Chapter 9 – Let's Play Sissy Kiss



Mrs. Thomas asked the class a question. My hand instantly shot up because Mother told me a good teacher's pet always puts her hand up.  Mrs. Thomas frowned at the class. “I've called on Samantha the last three times, someone else, please? You should all be as enthusiastic as she is.“



I shrank into my seat.  I could feel the class glaring at me in the back of my head.  I was always the example of a perfect, eager little student and it wasn't helping me make many friends.



A lot of teachers would see this happening and try and discourage a student from being such an obvious pet, but Mrs. Thomas was truly smitten with her little Samantha.  My “gender issues” made sure I was viewed as special and worthy of coddling to make sure I would never be picked on.  She didn't think of me like she did the other girls.  



Thanks to Mother's orders on how I should behave I never did anything to suggest I didn't want the extra protection.  The three kids I had tattled on my first day tried to corner me the day after to pick on me.  My instinct was to fight back and defend myself but I knew I wasn't allowed to get in any trouble.  I had only one solution open to me, the one Mother and Bridgette had told me about.  I cried and ran to the teacher and tattled some more.  It solved the problem of being picked on, but over the next few weeks I found myself being more and more isolated from the rest of the class, aside from Marcie and Mrs. Thomas of course.  I wasn't only a teacher's pet and a tattle tale, I was also an immature little baby.



About a month after my first day back in school Mother and I were at the grocery store.  I was dressed in a pink skirt and a short sleeve white blouse with blue and pink flowers.  I wore pink sneakers and  frilly ankle socks.  She sent me off with a list of items to pick up for her to help with the shopping.  It wasn't a big deal, aside from the last item on the list.



Girl's Goodnites.  



It was so humiliating to go to the diaper aisle and pick up the package I needed because of my uncontrollable bedwetting.  All I could think of was doing the same chore when my sister made me do it in a  pink “Princess Bedwetter” shirt.  



It was so humiliating to be a boy forced to do that by his sister, but in some ways it was even worse to be seen just as a bedwetting little girl.  When it was a boy in that situation they looked at me with disgust and disdain.  It was awful, but as a girl I was showered with pity.  I really hated it.  People acted like I shouldn't even be embarrassed by it.  Easy for you to say, if you can keep your sheets dry.  It's just as humiliating no matter what gender you are.  Sometimes it was just as embarrassing to be treated as helpless by default rather than being mocked for not doing what you should.



As I blushingly tried to escape from the diaper aisle that day I encountered someone who didn't care if I was a girl or a boy, she just hated me for being a tattle tale and a teacher's pet.



“Oh my god,” Jenny laughed.



I froze in humiliation and fear in front of my classmate.  Tears started to form in my eyes, “Please don't tell anyone...”



She guffawed.  â€śLittle miss tattle tale doesn't want me to tell everyone she's a bedwetter?  You always seem so happy to tell everyone else's secrets though.”



“Please...I can't help it...”  I ran away to Mother with tears in my eyes and explained what happened in a panic.



She gave me a hug and consoled me, “Oh, don't worry Samantha, I'm sure she won't tell anyone.  I'm sure she's a very nice girl and would never do something like that.”



“She hates me!” I shouted, “Because you made me be a tattle tale!”



Mother frowned at me, “You're making a scene with this little tantrum, Samantha. Enough, don't make me put you in the corner for the rest of the day.  You know Marcie is supposed to come over.”



Still sniffling and red faced I stared at the ground and said nothing while she finished shopping.  When we got home I sat on my bed and continued to cry.  I lost track of time and when I heard the doorbell ring I quickly tried to compose myself, but when I opened the door it was obvious Marcie could tell.  



“What's wrong, Samantha?” she asked with concern.



“It's nothing,” I told her.  Marcie didn't look satisfied, she didn't think BFFs should keep secrets.



I squirmed in embarrassment, “It's private, okay?  Let's just go practice.”



We sat together at the piano and began to play a duet.  It was easy for Marcie but it was way beyond my skill level and Marcie was patiently helping me learn it so we could play it together at our next recital.  When I was playing it right it was an amazing feeling being so totally in sync. We were the best of friends and it was awesome to work together to do something in perfect harmony and unity.  There was nobody I would rather share that feeling with than Marcie.



That time, though, I kept making mistakes.  It was like I had regressed.  Instead of calming, beautiful music it was nothing but discordant chaos.  Marcie couldn't understand it.  She knew I practiced every day.  She was patient with me and we simply started over again and again.  The fifth time I messed up I was too frustrated to continue.  I banged my fists into the keyboard in anger as Marcie shrunk away.  I stood up and turned away from the piano as Mother stormed into the room.



“Samantha, what are you doing?” she demanded.  



“I hate the piano!  I don't want to play it any more!” I shouted.



Mother rolled her eyes at me,“Don't be silly, Samantha.  You can't quit just because it's hard.  Messing up is part of practicing. It's okay.  Get back to it.”



We stared each other down.  If this went any further I would find myself in the corner but I was too upset to care.  I screamed, “I hate you!  I hate you!  You aren't even my real...”



She interrupted my angry words with an icy calm that was clearly holding back her own upset.



“Samantha...”



“Anne...”



“Donovan.”



I was in for it now.



Marcie decided to take matters into her own hands before Mother could go on, “Mrs. Donovan, it was my fault we messed up.  I could really use a break.  Is it okay if we stop for now?”



Mother raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not believing for a second Marcie had been the source of the trouble, but she agreed to let us take a break.  We went up to my room and I sat down on my bed and sulked.  



“So, what's wrong?” she asked once again.



“I told you I don't want to talk about it!” I yelled.



“Are you mad at me?” she asked with concern.



I shook my head in reply.



“Then don't take it out on me!  Tell me what's wrong,” she demanded.



“Fine!” I shouted.  I stood and tore the covers off my neatly made bed exposing the plastic sheets hidden beneath.  â€śI'm a bedwetter!  I wet the bed nearly every night!”  I started to cry, “I went to the  doctor and he gave me pills and an alarm but nothing works!  It happens almost every night!  Are you happy now?”



I waited for that look of disgust and disdain or overwrought pity I confronted every time somebody found out.  I waited for the laughter.  I should have known Marcie would never do something like that to me.   Several heartbeats passed.



Then she simply shrugged, “Oh, don't cry any more Samamtha. I'm sorry.  I guess it really is none of my business.“



It didn't change how she thought of me at all.  While I stood there in numb shock she remade my bed and sat down.  I sat next to her.



“I'm sure you'll get it beat soon.  It's just a medical problem, right?  That kind of thing happens to everybody.  You can't let it ruin your day.”  She hugged me.  I felt light headed.  I liked her so much.  She was the best friend.  



I really could tell her anything, “It's...not just that.  I was at the store today and...and Jenny saw me with my...with my...Goodnites, and she's going to tell everyone at school to get back at me.”  



Marcie took my hand and squeezed it tightly and looked me right in the eyes.  â€śNo, she won't.  She's really a nice girl.  She's mad about what you did but...she wouldn't do that to you.  I promise.”



Her eyes were so beautiful. I got lost in them as she spoke.  I would have believed anything she said at that moment.  All of my anxiety floated away.  It was going to be okay.  Marcie said so.  



Our hands were still entwined. We leaned in closer together.  I felt like I felt when we were playing the piano in perfect coordination.  It was exhilarating. We had one mind and one purpose.  Before my conscious mind could even grasp what was occurring, we kissed.



My heart thudded in my chest and I felt dizzy and lightheaded.  I was overwhelmed with joy.  For several minutes we just stared at each other, flooded with confusing emotion.  We gripped each other's hands so tightly it was almost painful.  



Suddenly the door opened and Mother looked in on us.  Our hands leapt apart and we sat there guiltily.  Mother looked at us in suspicion but clearly had no idea what we could possibly have been doing we would be afraid she would find out about.  I knew she had a camera in my room.  I just hoped she wouldn't check it.



“I..uhh...think we're ready to practice again, Mrs. Donovan,” Marcie said to break the silence.  



We sat again at the piano.  I played the duet flawlessly for the first time.  Marcie hugged me in congratulations. We stared into each other's eyes again.  I had trouble getting to sleep  that night.  I didn't know what kissing Marcie really meant, but I knew it was wonderful.  We were more than BFFs now, that was for sure.  It was Marcie's first kiss.  It wasn't mine.  My first kiss was a much less jubilant moment.  



-



I sat at my desk trying to study.  I was constantly distracted by sounds of laughter from across the hall.  Kelly had a friend over, a boy from her class named Greg I didn't really know.  She wasn't really allowed  to have boys over at her age, especially when our parents weren't home, but she wasn't worried about them.  They focused all their attention on trying to fix their “sissy son.” The room across the hall went silent for a few minutes.  I started to get nervous.  The calm before the storm, an anxious part of me insisted.



“Hey, Samantha!” she taunted, appearing at my door.



“Don't call me that, you promised nobody from school would find out,” I whined.



She laughed, “Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game!”



I stood up and faced her.  â€śNo!” I insisted, emphatically.



She crossed her arms with an amused smile on her lips. I stood there trembling, near tears, knowing exactly how everything was about to play out from long experience.  She rushed at me and put me in a headlock.  I kicked and bucked and tried to escape but I didn't want to scream for fear that the boy in the next room would come across the hall and see me being beat up by my little sister.  



Still holding me by the neck she stood behind me and whispered in my ear.  â€śSay it.”



“No! I won't! Not this time!” I replied.



She laughed.  She let go of my neck and grabbed my underwear and pulled up with all of her strength and gave me the most painful wedgie you could imagine.  I fell forward with a scream, Greg must surely have heard at this point but it was involuntary on my part. She pinned me on the ground with her knee on my back.  She held my head with her left arm and with her right started giving me a painful nuggie, rubbing her knuckles into my scalp painfully and demanding, “Say it!  Say it!”



Through my tears I finally gave in, “I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!”



The pain stopped.  I could hear her giggling from behind me,“Oh, it's okay, little sis.  Don't cry!  If that's what you want I can make sure everyone will!”



She left the room.  I stood up, crying, and stripped off my clothes.  There was no point in fighting her on that.  I went to my closet, and with red cheeks pulled one of my girl's GoodNites from the hiding spot and pulled them on.  Naked besides my immature girl's bedwetting pants,  I turned back to the door and in intense humiliation waited for her to return with the outfit of her choice.



She came back holding a pink and white candystriped dress with white ribbon at the collar and a white ribbon sash and a built in crinoline.  There were matching pink panties with white ruffles on the rear to put on over my GoodNites.  Obediently I donned the dress and she tied a big white bow behind me.  She put me in frilly white ankle socks and pink two inch high heels with white bows at the toe.  She put a pink ribbon in my hair.  She sat me down and had me do my own makeup, a task I was now well practiced in.  She told me to be especially careful to do a perfect job with the pink lipstick.  



“Aren't you just the prettiest little sister, Samantha?” she asked mockingly as we stared at my effeminate, emasculated appearance in the mirror.  The dress barely covered my underwear and I tugged hopelessly at the hem.



I seethed in humiliation, “But you said you wouldn't tell anyone at school,” I whined again.



She smiled impishly, “It's okay, he doesn't mind.”



The door opened.  The boy, Greg, entered the room.  In shock I realized he was wearing a nearly identical baby blue outfit but his boyish appearance and crew cut made it clear he wasn't a girl.



“Oh my God!” he gushed, “You're right, he's beautiful!  I'm glad you made me wait till your were done to show me!  He's the most pretty sissy I've ever seen!”  He was clearly a willing participant in our little game and quite smitten with me.



Before I could do anything the boy ran up to me and grabbed me in a hug.  I squirmed in displeasure, my sissy dress pressed against his.



“Say cheese!” Kelly announced as Greg's lips smacked into mine in a kiss.  Her camera flashed.   I tried to escape from Greg's embrace. I could feel his excitement as our warm bodies pressed together in our girly-girl dresses and it was definitely not reciprocated. Kelly glared at me and I knew I had to play along.  We kissed again.  I felt nauseous and disgusted.  Kissing another boy was absolutely repulsive to me.



Greg reached behind me and pulled up my dress and rubbed his hands on my pantied bottom.  I wanted to run away and puke.  



“My little sissy sister has a little sissy boyfriend!  Everyone is going to be so exicted!” Kelly screeched.  She kept making comments like that so when my Mom and Dad came home I didn't hear them coming.  Kelly heard them and quickly hid in my closet.  My parents were livid to find me dressed up as a sissy again and kissing another boy.  They had to wait until Greg was gone to get around to punishing me, but it was the worst punishment I ever took at their hands.



-



The next day in school I was a nervous wreck, even with my faith in Marcie's judgment.  I sat in my seat at the front of the class and pulled nervously at my long french braid, a habit I had picked up lately when I was scared or upset.



I waited all day as I did my usual teacher's pet routine to hear the whispers behind me.



“Baby.”



“Bedwetter.”



“Diaper girl.”



But it never happened.  



At the end of the day as I was leaving class I turned to look at Jenny. “I...I....”  



I ran away near crying, not wanting to confront what had happened.  Or really, what hadn't.  I thought about it all evening.  She really was a nice girl, and I had made an enemy out of her just because I was afraid of getting in trouble with Mother.  I was so embarrassed.  I didn't think I could face her again.



The next day I walked towards class.  I was carrying another gift for Mrs. Thomas.  Mother gave me something to give her at least once a week to help solidify my status as teacher's pet.  That day I carried a bouquet of flowers and some strawberry jam from our garden.  



As I entered the classroom I took a few steps towards the teacher's desk.  Mrs. Thomas smiled at me, anticipating another present from her favorite little student, but something stopped me.  I turned sharply to the left and walked towards Jenny's desk.  With my face down I presented the gift to her.



“I'm sorry,” I whispered quietly, “Thank you for being so nice anyway.”



Without waiting for a response I quickly turned away, expecting Mrs. Thomas to be looking disappointed at not receiving her usual gift but instead she was smiling and wiping a small tear from her eye.  



I sighed.  She was just as delighted to see her little favorite making new friends as to be giving her gifts.  I sat down in my seat and smiled.  I laughed.  I liked my new class.  I didn't stop being the overdressed crybaby prissy little tattle tale but, well,  I learned that Marcie was right. Sometimes I didn't always have to do what Mother said.  When I used a bit of discretion, the other girls could be pretty friendly.



A few weeks later Mother announced that she was having a girl's night out with Bridgette.  I would be left home with a babysitter.  I begged and pleaded with her not to, but she made the call she had said she would when I first moved in.  My sister Kelly would babysit me.  I would have been entirely happy never seeing her again, but I think Mother knew some closure might be good for me.  I'm glad she did.



I hid up in my room crying all day after school knowing what was coming.  Mother tried to get me out but I just kept throwing tantrums and as much of a helicopter parent as she was, her mind was made up on having her night out.  It didn't matter how much I whined.



Mother made me answer the door.  Kelly was just like I remembered her.  A pretty, innocent looking little girl who I knew instinctively had it within her power to make every facet of my life as miserable as possible.



I started to cry but Kelly didn't miss a beat, “Hello, Samantha!” she squealed, “We're going to have so much fun, just think of all the...games...we’ll play!”



Kelly put her arm around me and held me close to her.  I looked up at Mother with pleading eyes,   “Please...take me with you.”



She just laughed, “Everything will be fine Samantha, have fun playing with your sister.  Goodbye!”



And she was gone.



Kelly instantly released me as soon as the door was closed.  â€śOH...MY...GOD!” she shouted, “Look at you!”



I looked to the mirror and saw what she did.  I was wearing a poufy yellow sundress covered in flowers and white birds and a white cardigan with white tights on my legs and yellow Mary Janes.  I wore an expensive silver tiara (I hate tiaras!  But Mother says it looks so pretty on me...) and my thick, long french braid was tied with glittery yellow ribbons.  I wore diamond clip-on earrings and golden bracelets on my wrists and of course my pearl necklace.



“She dresses you like this every day?  You actually GO TO SCHOOL like this? I can't believe you let her do this to you!  You're the perfect little princess I always thought you were, and you just go along with it!” she exclaimed with laughter.



I pouted and turned away.  I sat down on a chair in the living room and sulked.   She followed quickly behind me and looked around.  She took in the fancy furniture and the massive wide-screen TV.  I thought I saw a hint of annoyance on her face but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. She focused back on me.



“So, have you met any nice boys at your new school, little sis?” she asked sarcastically.



“I don't like boys!” I shouted back in anger.



She laughed, “Well, Greg certainly misses you and...”



I ran upstairs to my room and slammed the door.  It didn't matter.  There wasn't a lock of course.  I grabbed my phone and started to text Marcie, “OMG plz, u there?”



By the time I hit “send” Kelly was upon me again.  She saw my uber-girly room and burst out in a new fit of laughter.  She saw the expensive queen sized bed and all the fancy clothes and dolls and jewelry.  She looked at the brand new top of the line iPhone in my hands.  She turned to my desk and saw the new Macbook and the fancy perfumes and makeup.  



I slammed down the phone in frustration.  Kelly stopped laughing and pouted.  That hint of annoyance I had seen earlier was now turning into open resentment. The new life she had sentenced me to was to live in a large house with a rich mother and have all of my whims and needs taken care of.  I started to sense something odd about what was happening right then. I started to giggle.  I started to laugh out loud.  



She stared at me, “Let's play the....”



“What's the point?” I replied. My laughter continued.



She ran up to me and grabbed me by my french braid and tugged me off the bed.  I shrieked in pain, but when it was over I just kept laughing.  



I shouted, “I'm a prissy-little sissy girly and....everybody ALREADY knows it!” she tugged on my braid again, ”and...YOU'RE JEALOUS OF ME!” I exclaimed with glee.



She let go of my hair and backed away while shaking her head at my laughing non-resistance.  I went on, “You spent all your time thinking of ways to bully me and make me unhappy, and now I'm the most happy I've ever been in my entire life and you're stuck with them without me and you hate it! I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I LOVE IT!” I exclaimed with honesty.



She charged at me and swung her fist.  I was stuck with a pretty nasty black eye for the next few weeks, but after Mother saw the video from her camera in my room I never had to see my little sister ever again.  The next morning I woke up to a strange sensation.  I urgently had to urinate.  I choked up with happiness as I leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom.  I never wet the bed again. Game over.



A few weeks later, Mother had me dressed in my Sunday best.  I wore a pure white Easter style dress with bouffant petticoats, white anklets, and one inch patent leather white heels.  



“Mother,” I asked, “Why do I have to dress up today?” as if my outfit was that much different from my day to day clothes.



She had been distant all morning long.  Her answer was just as distant and monotone and maybe...nervous?  â€śWe have a very special guest today, Samantha.  Please be on your best behavior,” she instructed, with an almost pleading look in her eyes.



“Yes, Mother, of course,” I replied with a curtsy in a confused tone that suggested I would never even think of acting otherwise.



She went to the kitchen and started to prepare a brunch.  I followed her and started to don my apron to help out as usual, but she stopped me.  â€śI'll handle it, Samantha, just...just wait and answer the door, okay?”



I nodded and hung the apron and sat in a chair by the door.  If that was what Mother wanted, it was what I would do for her.  I took the phone from my purse and texted Marcie.



“Mother acting weird, lol!”



Marcie texted back, “I dunno, lol.”



The doorbell rang.  For some reason Mother was really counting on me for this, so I made sure to do it right.  I smoothed out my dress, checked my appearance in the mirror, and turned to the door and opened it.  I bobbed a quick, polite curtsy and looked up.



In front of me was an unusually tall woman with strong features.  The situation was somewhat odd, but I was very well trained in answering the door. I dipped in another cursty and smiled.  â€śHello, My name is Samanth...”



The woman picked me up and smothered me in a tight hug.  I'm Cameron. I've heard all about you. You're so pretty!  I wish when I was your age I could have...”  Her hands touched the pearl necklace I wore, “...she would never let me...”



She looked behind me and saw Mother standing in the doorway to the kitchen.  She gently set me back down and the two woman looked across at each other in silence. The distance was measured in feet but by their gazes it could have been miles.



Mother spoke, “I'm so sorry, Cameron.” She broke down in tears.  I had never seen this from her before, as much as I loved her she was always the stern and reserved type, she continued, “I'm so sorry!”



The two woman ran to each other and hugged.  I stood beside them in confusion.



Mother continued, “I should have accepted you for who you are. I never should have driven you away just because you wanted to be a g...” Mother choked on her tears.  â€śI never thought you would come back to me, but, when I heard about girls like Samantha I knew I could make a difference. I told her she was an only child.”



Cameron smiled and looked over at me.  â€śYou aren't.”



I fell back into my chair.  Numbly I felt the phone by my side and picked it up. “Have big sister now,” I texted.



“wat?” in reply.



I laughed.  Maybe I should call her.



It was years before Marcie and I ever kissed again.  I knew I didn't like boys but I had to give Marcie her chance to figure out who she was.  Every time she went out I did my best to pretend like it didn't bother me, but I think she knew.  It bothered me a lot.  Even so, we remained inseparable and the best of friends.  We liked the same hobbies and books and movies and we were always there for each other when we were upset.  



When I couldn't be with Marcie I got to know my big sister.  Cameron was a role model for me and she helped me to learn about the special challenges I would face because of my gender issues.  It was great to have someone in the family besides Mother to help look after me.  She took me shopping and started to nudge my fashion choices away from Mother's prissy outfits into things more appropriate for a teenage girl.  Having her other daughter back made Mother a lot less smothering and overprotective of me, but I was always happy to model one of her prissy new dress designs and help in the kitchen and the garden and be her perfect, happy little girl.  At times I could see it would make Cameron a little jealous to see me live the life she had always wanted when she was young, but seeing her little sister happy always trumped those feelings.



It was the night of the junior prom when Marcie and I finally admitted we were in love. We couldn't imagine there could be anybody else as perfect for either of us.  She wore an elegant pink satin prom gown and I wore one that was white and poufy that Mother had designed for me. While  everyone else danced around us, we held each other close and kissed.  The music enveloped us like when we played a duet in perfect harmony. You couldn't tear us apart.  We wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, BFFs and more.



THE END


 

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