Author Topic: Hello Dolly (Read 58567 times)

DaraJaney · « **Reply #7 on:** August 13, 2006, 06:17:26 AM »

The following morning he sat nervously in the play-pen hoping that Sarah would play with him. He looked up anxiously as his mum tried to persuade her. Sarah was obviously reluctant but couldn’t think of a good excuse. Brian picked up a story book with great difficulty and held it out towards Sarah hopefully.

She threw her eyes up. Unable to deny the pathetic boy in the pink baby dress, looking up at her suc-king on his soother, she took the book and sat down beside the play-pen.

Later Sarah went into the kitchen. Brian could hear her talking to his mother. “But he can’t even play board games or anything”, Sarah complained. “Now, now”, his mother scolded her. “It’s not his fault that he’s a helpless baby. It’s just for a week … well, for now.”

The week seemed to take an eternity. Sarah played with him for a few hours each day but only under duress. He waited anxiously for the verdict of the psychiatrist.

When she arrived, he sat nervously in his play-pen in his peach dress. She quizzed his mother about his week in nappies. “No, there’s been no tantrums at all”, she said. “When he does get a little angry I find that the soother and dolls are a great help. One day I came in and he was crying but I just gave him a bottle of warm milk and he was soon right as rain again.”

Brian squirmed in his nappy fearing that he was never going to get out of them. If he’d been allowed to speak, he couldn’t deny anything his mother said but surely they couldn’t keep him like this indefinitely.

“Interesting”, the lady said, making notes. “There’s one alternative that I’d like to try if you don’t mind.” His mother looked interested. “I’d like to establish whether it’s the baby things that are responsible or whether it’s the fact that they’re very feminine.”

“I suggest that you let him out of the nappies and baby dresses for a week to try out an experiment.” Brian perked up considerably at this. There was light at the end of the tunnel.

The psychiatrist continued. “I’d like you to dress him like a teen-age girl for a week.” Brian’s face darkened considerably again. “I suggest that you dress him very effeminately – nice lacey blouses and underwear, short pleated skirts, stockings, tights, high heels, you know.” Brian was wincing again.

“You should put his hair in heavy curls that he will be able to feel bouncing. Lots of make-up, earrings etc. The important thing is that he must feel as effeminate as possible – all of the time.”

By the time she got up to go, Brian was in despair. He supposed it was better to be out of nappies but only just.

“Another thing”, she said before she departed. “You need to get him to act effeminately too. The best thing would be to bring him out in public a lot – he’ll not want people to realise that he is a boy in girl’s clothes so he’ll play the part.”

When his mother returned to the play-pen having let the psychiatrist out, Brian had a wet nappy. He was dismayed to be put back in another nappy. “It’ll take us a day or two to set you up with a nice wardrobe”, his mother explained.

A week later, the psychiatrist was shown in to the lounge again. As she sat, Brian’s mother called him. She heard the clicking of high-heels on the wooden stairs. There was a little stumble half-way down.

Brian walked into the room. She was pleased to see him tugging the hem of his short pleated plaid skirt nervously. The skirt was filled out with net petticoats. He was wearing white tights or stockings – she wasn’t sure. She could see a lacey camisole and bra through his thin frilly blouse.

He had a heavy blush on his cheeks, a light lip-stick and his finger nails were painted pink. She looked down at his toes peeking through the open toed high-heeled sandals and could see pink toe-nails through his white tights.

He looked down demurely revealing pink eye-shadow. As he walked across to a chair his ringlets bounced on his shoulders. A large pink bow rested at the front of his head above his bangs and hooped earrings jangled below his lobes.

He sat on an antique chair that had lace covers on the back and arms. He tugged his skirt again when he sat but the lady could see that he was in fact wearing stockings with lovely lace tops. She could also see the button of a suspender strap.

Brian looked across the room and she noticed a look of frustration on his face. She saw then that there was a mirror facing him and he could see that a stocking top was showing. He tried to tug discretely at the right hand side of his skirt to hide it but that just resulted in the stocking top on the other side being revealed. Brian frowned and looked even more frustrated.

His mother talked in glowing terms of his behaviour that week while he continued to fidget in his seat. The psychiatrist watched his every move with interest. She noticed how he tried to flex his feet as much as possible within the tight confines of his high-heeled sandals. He glanced occasionally at his ringlets dangling at the side of his face and frowned. She was very satisfied that he was totally consumed with his ultra-feminine appearance.

“We love bringing him into the city each day, around the shops and restaurants”, his mother continued. Brian cringed at the memory. At least they hadn’t encountered anyone they knew but he attracted lots of attention. You generally don’t see a teenage girl wearing such frilly and lacey clothes anymore so lots of people stared and nudged each other as he passed.

He had no option but to try and flounce around like a girl. People obviously found his appearance very amusing but if they found out that he was a boy he would have died on the spot.

“Very good”, the psychiatrist said as she stood to go. “Let’s keep it up for another few weeks.” Brian wanted to cry. When the lady left he looked to his mother for some sign of a reprieve but there was none. He looked at himself in the mirror again and dreaded another few weeks as a prissy teenage girl.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #8 on:** August 15, 2006, 05:40:03 PM »

The following day his mother was on the phone early. “That was your cousin Kerry”, she told him when she finished the call. “You know, the one who is getting married next week. She wants you to be flower-girl at her wedding.” Brian was distraught. “Her little sister won’t do it because she hates wearing dresses.” What? And I like it? Brian thought to himself. “What about Sarah?” he asked his mother but she just laughed and said “fat chance”.

So he was going to have to wear a mortifying flower-girl’s dress at the age of fifteen because two eight-year-olds wouldn’t. But he knew he was in no position to argue. He could find himself in nappies again very quickly. Although, the serenity of a play-pen began to look more desirable than parading down the aisle in a dress.

He was brought to a bridal shop for a fitting. Two friends of his cousin who were going to be bridesmaids were there in lemon dresses with pink trimmings. The dresses were straight and slender down to their ankles.

All the ladies in the shop were aware of Brian’s true status as a boy and wore broad grins. There were various comments about how they would never have guessed he was a boy if they hadn’t been told, which didn’t make him feel any better really.

The shop assistant was thinking hard. “We may find it difficult to get anything in his size. Usually flower girls are much younger these days. We could fit him with a dress like the bridesmaids’ but I guess you are looking for something different.” Kerry nodded in agreement. “I think we have an extra-large outfit from years ago in the storeroom out back”, the assistant reckoned. “It might be a bit short on him but should fit.”

Brian waited nervously as the women examined his appearance with great amusement. He shifted from one foot to the other, wishing he could get the damn four-inch heels off.

The assistant returned with a box from which she produced the dress. The pink matched the trim of the bridesmaids’ dresses so Kerry was delighted. Brian looked grimly at the puffed sleeves and the large bows around the waist.

He had to strip down to his bra and panties. The women tittered at his frilly pink panties and laughed out loud on seeing the outline of his pen-is.

He was actually relieved to get the dress on. “It’s a nice ballet length on him”, the assistant pointed out. Kerry was reasonably pleased. “Do you have any petticoats that could fill it out more?” she asked. The assistant found one of the appropriate length with several layers of organza. As his dress was smoothed out over the petticoats Brian looked enviously at the bridesmaids’ elegantly slim dresses.

The assistant went back to the box. “I found some other old stuff too. I know that nobody wears these kinds of things anymore but I just thought you might like them.” She looked at Brian with a mischievous grin and pulled out a pink bonnet. He winced. He thought he’d seen the last of bonnets.

Kerry was delighted and took the bonnet from the pleased assistant and placed it on Brian’s head. He looked thoroughly miserable as she tied it under his chin but the women ignored that and all agreed that he must wear it.

On a roll now the assistant produced a pair of pantaloons from the box. Brian wanted to cry now but was soon stepping into the pantaloons as his mother raised his petticoats. He looked in the mirror and could see that three rows of lace, threaded with pink ribbon, could be seen below his dress.

They found a pair of ankle socks with pink lace trim for him and a pair of pink Mary Janes. He was relieved to be out of the high-heels but it was a case of out of the frying pan into the fire.

The women were unanimous that Brian had to wear this outfit and they thanked the assistant profusely for her help while Brian glared at her.

On the day of the wedding Brian had his hair and make-up done with the bridesmaids. When they emerged, Kerry and her mother were delighted. The bridesmaids had been dreading having to appear in what they regarded as stupid dresses but were now relieved that Brian was attracting all the attention with his pink dress, petticoats, bonnet and frilly pantaloons.

He just wanted to cry as they left the house in the limousine. He was facing complete humiliation in front of every relative he knew.

At the church Sarah and her little cousin stood waiting in trouser-suits. When Brian appeared he heard Sarah say “boy, am I glad I didn’t have to wear that!” and her cousin nodded vigorously.

As Brian stood having his petticoats arranged around him, Sarah pointedly put her thumbs inside the waist band of her trousers and pulled them up.

Brian was handed a basket of rose petals to strew down the aisle. He took up position at the end of the church and braced himself. The organ struck up and the congregation stood and then all turned to face him.

Brian stepped forward with his right foot and brought his left foot level with it and paused as he had been coached. Then he repeated this with his left foot first.

It seemed to take an age to reach the altar. He could hear the sniggers and tittering all along the way but people were too polite to laugh out loud in the church. One woman had to cough into her handkerchief to conceal her amusement. A few people who may not have realised that this was a boy gave each other puzzled looks at the sight of this teenager in such a ridiculous outfit.

He could see everyone taking in his bonnet and pantaloons and he was dreadfully conscious of the swishing sound his petticoats made.

He was so relieved to reach the sanctuary of the altar and turned to watch the bridesmaids come up the aisle. But many people were still watching him and ignoring the bridesmaids.

During the service as he sat, knelt and stood with his back to the congregation he could still hear comments being whispered and splutters of laughter.

With the vows exchanged they all turned to head back down the aisle. Cameras were flashing as much at Brian as at the bride.

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DaraJaney · « **Reply #9 on:** August 19, 2006, 04:29:34 AM »

Outside he still had to endure the group photographs. The relations all gathered on the steps of the church and the photographer wanted Brian to sit on the lower steps in front of them all. He bunched up his petticoats and sat down. His mother spent several minutes adjusting them to ensure that his pantaloons and frilly ankle socks could be seen clearly.

Brian knew that no matter what else his future might bring, he would be featured forever more on the mantle pieces of all his relations in his pink flower-girl’s dress.

He prayed that he would be let out of the outfit soon but the wedding party went on to a hotel for a wedding feast. Brian sat at the top table just wondering how long this ordeal was going to last. Everyone else around him was having great fun.

It was a hot day and he was steaming under all those petticoats. In the hope that he might be allowed change out of the dress he complained to his mother about the stifling heat.

“While you are sitting at the table you can pull up your dress and petticoats and let the air circulate underneath”, she suggested. “Nobody will be able to see under the table.”

Brian considered this and it made sense. He discretely pulled up his petticoats under the table cloth. Even with the pantaloons on, he felt much cooler. He sat and closed his eyes in ecstasy as the heat dissipated.

A minute later one of the waitresses leaned in between Brian and his mother. “Excuse me, but I think you should know that the table cloth does not go down over the far side of the table.” Brian’s eyes opened widely. Everyone around the room was looking at the top table and laughing. He pushed his petticoats down as quickly as he could. How much worse could the day get?

After the meal the tables were being cleared to create space for a dance-floor. Brian heard the bridesmaids say that they could change into their other clothes at last. He looked hopefully at his mother. “Come on upstairs”, she said to him.

At last he was going to get out of the damn flower-girl’s dress. Upstairs in a bedroom he was able to remove his bonnet, dress and pantaloons.

When he returned to the ballroom he was wearing a lavender jacket and tight short skirt. He could feel his suspenders moving with each step and they strained to hold his tan stockings up far enough. He was back in four-inch heels but felt he was becoming more used to them now.

He sat down beside his mother, tugging the hem of his skirt as he did so. He was certain that his suspenders must be showing so he decided that standing was a better option so he joined the bridesmaids on the dance floor.

He hadn’t danced in high-heels before so it wasn’t long before his feet were hurting again. At the end of the song the DJ intervened. “Now I know you all love this one so I want everyone up dancing. It’s the Gap Band and ‘Oops Upside Your Head’.”

Brian was horrified, realising what would happen next. He tried to get off the dance floor as quickly as possible, scampering as quickly as he could in the high-heels. Dozens of people were charging onto the floor and he was drawn back in the tide.

They started forming a line and the people at the front sat down on the floor. Someone grabbed Brian around the waist and he was shoved into line. Suddenly he was locked into the line and everyone was sitting down on the ground. He was pulled down and the person in front sat too, right between his legs which were now spread apart.

He looked down and was horrified to see that his tight skirt had ridden up over the tops of his stockings. The white suspender straps shone out like a beacon.

The line of dancers swayed back and forth and Brian was thoroughly trapped. He could see the faces around the dance floor all looking at his stockings and suspenders and laughing heartily. People were pointing and telling everyone else to look.

The DJ obviously had a 12 inch version so it seemed like ten minutes before Brian could finally stagger to his feet and pull his skirt down again. He spent the night tugging at his hem every few seconds which was fairly pointless as everyone in the room knew exactly what he was wearing underneath.

The next day, because so many relations were in town, an outing was arranged to the zoo. As they waited at a bus stop, Brian looked down at his dress reckoning that it must be a Dorothy costume. He wore a blue gingham skirt with a bib attached and straps that went over the shoulder, crossed at the back at buttoned to the back of his skirt. This went over a white blouse. There was a very stiff net petticoat under the skirt that couldn’t have been better designed to catch every gust of wind.

He waited nervously at the bus stop holding his skirt down on either side for dear life. But when the bus arrived with a resultant gust of wind there was little he could do as the skirt and petticoat fluttered about uncontrollably. When he finally had his skirt pushed down again, he looked nervously at the other people at the stop but they all seemed to be more concerned with getting on. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He got on the bus last and found a seat. He pushed his skirt down under his bottom before sitting. This made the stiff petticoat shoot up at the front and revealed his white suspenders and stockings to anyone looking in that direction. He desperately batted down his skirt at the front and held his hands firmly on his lap for the rest of the journey.

In the zoo he kept his hands firmly down on his skirt as he walked around. Then his mother bought everyone ice-cream cones and suddenly one of his hands was occupied. He nervously licked at the ice-cream hoping that he could get through it before any serious gusts occurred.

His mother took out a camera and asked them to stand in front of the monkey enclosure. Brian was displeased that more photos were being taken of him in a stupid dress but what could he do?

He stood with his back to the enclosure while his mother looked through the viewfinder. Suddenly he felt a tug at the back of his skirt. He looked over his shoulder and a monkey had reached through the fence and was pulling at his skirt.

Brian gave a surprisingly girlish yelp and tried to move away from the monkey. Everyone else moved away from the fence in a circle around him. The monkey pulled harder and the buttons popped off.

Brian’s skirt fell to the ground. He looked down and could see that his blouse fell short of his panties that were trimmed with baby blue lace. He desperately tried to crouch and cover his panties and suspenders with one hand while still holding the ice-cream in the other.

The monkey tugged again at the skirt which was now down around Brian’s ankles. He stumbled forward and the monkey pulled the skirt into the enclosure and ran off with it.

The zoo was packed and a huge crowd gather around the squirming Brian. He dropped his ice-cream so that he could shield himself with both hands. But it was no use. “Look at that bulge in the panties”, he heard someone gasp. “It’s a boy!”

Because it was such a hot day nobody had a coat or jacket to preserve his modesty. His mother took him by the arm and led him through the crowd. He tottered along taking tiny steps in his high-heels. He concentrated on trying to conceal the bulge in his panties and gave up on any hope of covering up his suspenders or lacey stocking tops. But it was too late. He could hear people whisper to each other about his true gender.

They scampered past the queue of hundreds of people at the entrance and disappeared into the toilets. Eventually a raincoat was found and gratefully received by Brian.

As his mother went to bring him out of the toilets he resisted. He had had enough, he decided. His mother looked at him with mounting concern. She knew what was coming. The red mist was descending. Brian has no recollection of what happened next in the zoo.

The next thing he knew he was at home again. He was sitting in the play-pen. He was suc-king on the big pink soother. He looked down and saw that his hands were strapped into mittens again. He was wearing the pink baby dress. He was holding a doll very tightly.

From the wide angle at which his legs were splayed, he knew that he was back in a thick nappy. His mother came into the room. He looked up from the play-pen with tears in his eyes. “Are you back with us then?” she asked. He nodded. “Well, that’s the end of that experiment”, she said firmly. “There’s only one thing that keeps your fits at bay.” Brian looked down at his baby dress again. “That’s right. Nappies, baby dresses, a soother and dolly. And that’s the way you’ll be staying.”

DaraJaney · « **Reply #10 on:** August 25, 2006, 07:01:10 PM »

His mother called for the psychiatrist who came the next day. Brian sat in his play-pen in the middle of the room. He suc-ked on his soother nervously while they talked about him.

“You’re quite right”, the lady said. “I thought it was worth trying out dressing him like a teen-age girl in order to avoid having to keep him in nappies indefinitely but I can see now that it’s the only option.” Brian pondered on the meaning of the word “indefinitely”.

“I’ll have our special services department provide you with the necessary equipment over the next few days”, the lady continued. “Equipment?” his mother enquired and Brian looked up with interest. “Yes. Just a few items that will help keep him under control.”

The psychiatrist stood to go leaving Brian wondering what she meant exactly. “I know we’ll have to keep him in nappies”, his mother said to her, “but what about the baby dresses and frilly panties and all that?” Brian looked up hopefully.

“Oh yes, absolutely you must continue with that”, the lady said and Brian’s shoulders sagged visibly. “It’s most important to reinforce with him how helpless he is and how he is totally under your control. He must be forced to wear whatever you want him to wear no matter how humiliating it might be.” Sarah beamed down at him on hearing this.

Later that week the lady’s car pulled up outside followed by a delivery van. Brian sat in the play-pen in the lounge straining to see what was going on. Some things were brought upstairs, others into the utility room and something else into the kitchen.

Eventually the lady came into the lounge accompanied by his mother and Sarah. She was holding what looked like a complicated white belt. She told Brian to stand and walked around behind him. She put the belt around him and made him put his arms through some straps. He felt it all tighten around him as she fastened some buckles.

He looked down at the chest band of the leather contraption. The words “Baby Forever” were written in big fat pink letters. He suc-ked hard on his soother and looked up at his mother. She smiled sweetly on seeing the lettering.

The lady opened the side of the play-pen and motioned Brian to walk out. He looked around at her. She was holding the reins of his new harness. “Now you can take him out and about for exercise down to the local park”, she told his mother.

Brian was shocked at the prospect of being paraded around the neighbourhood in his baby dress and nappy. He looked at his mother desperately hoping that she would not want to do this. Sarah jumped up and down excitedly. “Please Mummy can I take him for a walk now.” Brian felt warm pee spread around his nappy at the thought. “No dear”, his mother replied, “calm down.” Brian gave a sigh of relief and the flow of pee halted. “You can take him down to the park in the afternoon”, she continued. Brian proceeded to thoroughly soak his nappy.

The psychiatrist gave a tug on his harness and made him walk towards the kitchen. When he went in he saw a large pink wooden high-chair beside the table. His mother looked at him to see his reaction and smiled at the wounded look on his face.

The lady swung back the tray that was attached to the chair and made him sit up. He did so very gingerly given his saturated nappy. “Has someone done something in his nappy?” his mother asked, recognising the signs. Brian looked at the floor ashamedly.

“I’ll just demonstrate this and then you can change him”, the lady said. She took his reins and tied them firmly to the back of the high-chair. “He’ll be held in safely by that”, she said. “Try to get out”, she told him. Brian dutifully tried to lean forward but was held very securely.

She swung the tray down in front of him and it clicked into position. “There is a catch under the tray to free it but he won’t be able to open it with his hands in mittens so he’s doubly secure. You can work away in the kitchen preparing his bottles or baby food knowing he’s safely confined to his high-chair.”

Once this was demonstrated, he was freed from the high-chair and brought into the utility room for changing. There was now a purpose-built changing unit with shelves for the stacks of his nappies and plastic panties. The psychiatrist showed his mother the various lotions and creams. “This is for nappy rash. No matter how diligent you are, he’ll probably get it at some stage.”

Brian was helped up onto his new changing table and his mother removed his soaked plastic panties and nappy. She was pleased with the layout of the table and how conveniently placed the baby wipe dispenser was.

Once he was pinned into a nice fresh nappy, he was brought out of the room and towards the stairs. Safety guards had been attached to the bottom and top of the stairs. His mother was shown how the bolts could not be opened by him because of his mittens. “It’s not safe for him to go up or down the stairs on his own because of the way the thick nappy makes him waddle”, the lady said.

The guards were opened and closed behind him and he was brought upstairs to his bedroom. His bed had been replaced by a pink wooden cot. Winnie the Poo’s image was carved into the headboard and a carousel of animals rotated slowly above it.

His mother lowered the side bars of the cot and motioned him to get in. With a frown Brian clambered into the cot. His mother raised the bars and they slipped into place with a now familiar click. The lady took his reins and showed how they could be securely tied to the frame of the cot to make sure that he couldn’t climb out.

“I don’t think we’ll need to do that”, his mother said and she looked at Brian for confirmation that he would be a good baby and stay in his cot. But the psychiatrist tightened the reins none the less. “It’s important that you keep him securely confined at all times”, she said. “No matter how compliant he may become over time as he realises that he is totally helpless in this situation and has no choice, you must keep him in his harness and at all times secure it to his play-pen, cot or high-chair. It’s vital to reinforce his helplessness to avoid any more fits.” His mother nodded and tears came to Brian’s eyes as the reality and intractable nature of his situation sank in.

“Now we’ll need to take away his bed in the van”, the lady said. Brian whimpered through his soother as they carried his old bed out of the room and left him in his new cot.

When the lady returned she held two new baby dresses on hangars. One was yellow and the other was lilac. He didn’t see them in detail but they were dripping with lace trimmings and the skirts stood out at a large angle. His mother followed examining the lace on the pairs of matching panties. Then came Sarah grinning broadly as she carried several pairs of tights in pastel shades.

His mother opened his wardrobe door. “You might as well take away his old clothes to make room for his baby dresses”, she said. Protesting grunts came from Brian as he clung to the bars of his cot. Despite the fact that they had talked about him being kept indefinitely in nappies and baby dresses, the permanent removal of his bed and boy’s clothes was finally bringing the reality of his predicament home to him.

His clothes were stuffed into plastic bags. When they went to take them out of the room, Brain shook the bars of his cot desperately. He tried to get up but the harness pulled him back. He looked for the catch to release the bars but there was no way he could open it. As they carried the bags down the stairs they could hear the sobbing coming from his room.

As the van pulled away his mother crept into the room and peeked into the cot. Brian was curled up in ball facing the wall. She smiled again at the pretty lace trimming on his panties which was on full display. She tiptoed up and looked over the bars of his cot. He had a dolly clasped tightly to his chest and he was nursing busily on his soother, pausing only occasionally to sniffle.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #11 on:** August 27, 2006, 06:22:22 PM »

Brian was brought down to the kitchen for his lunch-time feed. He was strapped into his new high-chair while his mother prepared his bottle. “Sarah, find something for Babykins to play with while he’s in his high-chair.” Sarah returned with a dolly for him. There was nothing much he could do except hold the dolly and hug it.

When his bottle came, he held it in carefully in both hands and started suc-king. He held his dolly under his arm. His mother and Sarah sat down to a lunch of burgers, chips and beans. Sarah went “mmm, mmm” when the plate was put down in front of her. She pointedly relished every chip and every bite of the burger as Brian looked on wistfully and continued suc-king on his bottle.

As the bottle emptied he had to raise his arms higher to tip the bottle up. The dolly slipped from under his arm and fell to the floor. Instinctively he moaned and leaned forward over the tray to see where the dolly had fallen. “Oh did poor dolly fall?” his mother asked with a snigger. She reached down and picked it up. She handed the dolly to Brian who looked a tad embarrassed – hardly for the first time. “Now don’t lose her again.”

Sarah wanted to spoon-feed him his lunch. Her mother placed an upturned box next to his high-chair for her to stand on so she could reach. She placed a bowl of green mush on the tray in front of him. He looked at it grumpily and then looked at the tomato ketchup stained finished plates on the table.

Sarah held a spoonful up to him. He opened his mouth and she shoved it in. He grimaced as he tasted the food. He reckoned there must be boiled cabbage, spinach and/or sprouts in the mash. He looked up plaintively at his mother. “Eat it all up now”, was her response, “it’s good for you.” Sarah presented him with another spoonful. He hesitated for a moment but realised he had no choice.

When he was fed, Sarah re-inserted his soother and asked again “can I bring him down to the park now?” Brian cringed and looked at his mother hoping for a change of heart. “Sure thing.” Brian sniffled. “Do you want to show him off in one of his new baby dresses?” “Oh yes, yes”, Sarah replied enthusiastically. Brian suc-ked on his soother and sniffled again.

“It’s a little chilly today so he must wear tights if he’s going out”, his mother observed. A line of snot was now running down from Brian’s nostril. “Oh dear, has Babykins a messy nose?” Brian went to wipe it with his mitten. “Ah! Ah!” his mother scolded and wagged a finger crossly. Brian froze and looked guiltily back at her. But then wondered how was he supposed to clean his nose?

His mother went over to a box of tissues and grabbed a handful. “Let Mummy wipe your nose for you.” She returned to the high-chair and placed the bunched up tissues against his nose. “Blow.” Sarah giggled. Brian looked at her crossly. He gave an unenthusiastic blow of his nose.

“No, properly”, his mother insisted. He took a deep breath and blew hard. His arms and legs stuck out and he strained against his harness as he put all his effort into it and his mother and Sarah laughed at the sight. His mother wiped his nose carefully and gave it a little playful tweek at the end. “There we are.”

She let him out of the high-chair. “Now, upstairs so we can choose one of your new baby dresses.” Brian walked out of the kitchen with his reins trailing behind him. His mother took off her apron and hung it up. When she went into the hallway Brian was waiting patiently for her to open the guard at the foot of the stairs.

Up in the bedroom he was stripped down to his nappy and plastic panties. His mother looked down at his nappy and asked if there was anything he wanted to do before he went out. He shook his head. “Right. Do we want to try his yellow dress or his lilac one?” she asked Sarah.

She took out the yellow dress which was adorned with several pink ribbons. It had a white pinafore attached which had ruffles that stood up over the shoulders. The lilac dress was in two layers – white cotton underneath with big puffed sleeves and a shorter lilac satin layer over it. The satin was also gathered up on either side at the front with bows to show off more of the white.

Brian looked at the two dresses and couldn’t decide which was less embarrassing. They were both thoroughly babyish. It didn’t seem to matter what he thought anyway as his mother and Sarah discussed the merits of the two outfits without any reference to him.

They decided on the lilac dress and only then sought his approval. “Does Babykins like his new dress?” his mother asked. He just shrugged. “Now, now, someone put a lot of thought and effort into this beautiful baby dress”, she said. He had to agree. He’d have preferred if they hadn’t bothered. “The least you can do is to show some appreciation. Now, isn’t it pretty?” Brian nodded dutifully and she seemed happy with that.

It was only when they went to put it over his head that he saw the inevitable layers of petticoats underneath. It was pulled down over him and his mother buttoned it up at the back. He looked over his shoulder at the mirror to confirm that it only covered about one third of his nappy.

“I think there lilac tights in the pack they gave us”, his mother suggested to Sarah. His little sister eagerly searched the drawer that contained his assorted tights. She produced a lilac pair triumphantly.

He sat on a chair grumpily while his mother pulled on the tights. He thought that having to wear tights was probably worse than having to wear a nappy. He hated them and people always laughed most at them.

His mother quickly pulled up the white panties that came with the dress. She raised his petticoats as she pulled the panties up over his nappy. She turned him towards the mirror. There was a rose stitched to the front of the panties – right over his crotch. His mother turned him around and he looked over his shoulder to see that a large lilac bow was stitched to the back of the panties over his bottom. The loose ends of the bow draped down for several inches.

As his mother fastened his harness, he stood facing the mirror. The snow white panties really shone out between his lilac dress and the lilac tights. His mother carefully placed the matching bonnet on his head and tied the ribbon under his chin in a bow. This ribbon likewise was very long and the two ends reached right down the front of his dress.

Sarah placed his t-bar shoes in front of him. He stepped into them and she buckled them. His mother handed him a dolly and stood back to admire him. “We’re all set so”, she said. Sarah took his reins. There was now nothing between Brian and his first public appearance in nappies and a baby dress.

He felt the warm pee spread out around his nappy. He was unsure whether to say anything. They had spent ages dressing him. His mother would be cross if she had to start all over again.

So he waddled downstairs in a saturated nappy. His mother opened the door and more pee streamed into the already soaked cotton. “Can I bring him around to all of my friends’ houses?” Sarah asked. “Of course”, his mother replied. Brian turned to his mother and whimpered desperately through his soother. Sarah went out the door and tugged on his harness. Brian backed out looking pleadingly at his mother to no avail.

Once he was out the door it slammed behind him. He looked up and down the road desperately hoping nobody was around. He instinctively tried to push his petticoats down as much as possible in the vain hope that his thick nappy and pretty panties might not be noticed – though he knew it was hopeless.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #12 on:** August 29, 2006, 07:17:44 PM »

Sarah brought Brian to the Campbells’ house first. She rang the doorbell. Brian stood nervously still trying to push his petticoats down. The door opened. “Hello Sar…. oh my goodness!” She put her hand to her mouth and stifled a laugh. “So, it’s true, Brian is being kept in nappies and baby dresses!” she said looking down at the clear bulge under his frilly panties.

“Yes”, said Sarah proudly, “and it’s been decided now that he’s going to be in nappies forever!” Brian frowned at her. He was still clinging to that word “indefinitely”. “Really?” Mrs. Campbell said with surprise as she admired his lilac tights. “Yes. Mummy’s thrown out all his boy’s clothes so he only has baby dresses to wear now.” Mrs. Campbell raised her eyebrows and studied Brian’s bonnet.

“He also has his own cot and high-chair and nappy changing unit”, Sarah continued. Brian wished she would shut up. Mrs. Campbell looked incredulous. “Seriously?” Sarah nodded. Mrs. Campbell looked at Brian for any sign of denial but he looked down ashamedly.

They were invited in. He heard Mrs. Campbell snigger as she saw the bow on the back of his panties. “Tina is out the back.” When Tina saw them she was delighted. “You have a harness for him!” “I’m bringing him down to the park”, Sarah explained, “do you want to come?” “Yes, can we call and get Anna too?” “Sure.” Sarah didn’t need any encouragement to show her brother around. Brian cringed and wondered how many houses he was to be shown off in.

They went over to Anna’s. Mrs. Howard was passing by on the other side of the street. “Hello dears”, she called over. “You’re bringing baby Brian out and about now I see.” “Yes, we’re keeping him in nappies and baby dresses forever so there’s no point in keeping it quiet anymore”, Sarah explained at the top of her voice. Brian winced and looked up and down the street anxiously.

Anna’s mother was just as fascinated at Brian’s appearance and Sarah helpfully explained in full detail how Brian was now being kept permanently as a baby girl and would never be able to go to the bathroom again but would have to do everything in his nappy. Brian shifted uneasily in his soaked nappy which was now quite cold. And they hadn’t even started out for the park yet. He wondered if he should own up to his wet nappy.

But as the little girls were acc-umulated he was gaining an ever larger audience for his nappy change. Eventually Sarah tugged him towards the park with six of her friends running alongside them excitedly.

On the way they met several other neighbours. The girls were now competing with each other to explain the details of Brian’s future. “He’s being kept in nappies forever!” “He only has pretty baby dresses to wear!” “With matching frilly panties and bonnets!” “And he spends all day in a play-pen.” “And we have to keep him in his harness when he’s outside.”

When they reached the park, things didn’t get any better. A group of boys who had been playing football came running over. “Look at the big sissy baby!” “Hah! You can see his big thick nappy! Do you wet your nappy?” Brian braced himself for Sarah’s helpful explanation. “He does, and he’s going to be in nappies forever!”

The boys were momentarily fazed by that. “Seriously?” They looked at Brian who simply suc-ked on his dummy. “Yes, he’s going to kept totally like a baby. I bottle-feed and spoon-feed him his food. Mummy now has a special nappy changing table for him and we have a cot that he won’t be able to get out of.” Brian wanted to wring her neck.

Some of the children fetched others and soon Brian was at the centre of dozens of children all discussing his babified state. He was getting very concerned about his cold wet nappy now. He wondered about all those warnings about nappy rash. He would give almost anything to be brought back to the privacy of his home now but he couldn’t announce to the assembled mob that he had a wet nappy.

But the crowd just grew and grew. “Look at his sissy tights!” “He has lots of pairs of tights to match each of his baby dresses”, Sarah told them and they roared laughing. Brian started to sniffle. He desperately did not want to cry because he knew what the reaction would be.

“You’ll have to bring him down to the park everyday”, someone said. “Oh we will”, Sarah assured them. Tears stared to run down Brian’s face. “Oh look the big baby is crying!” “suc-k on your dummy baby!” “Better get used to it sissy – we’re going to be here to see you every day.”

Brian rubbed his wet eyes with his mittens. They were all laughing now. He couldn’t take anymore. He turned to Sarah and pointed to his nappy. “Oh I think he has a wet nappy. Have you?” Brian nodded, crying harder now. “Hah, the big sissy baby has wet his nappy!” “What a real baby!” “Better get him changed before he wets his tights!”

Sarah tugged his reins and led him through the laughing crowd. Many of them followed him home telling everyone they met along the way that he had wet his nappy.

Brian was in floods of tears when Sarah finally brought him into the house. Her friends all followed in to see him being changed. Once in the house he nursed the dummy openly. His mother, seeing his distress, wasted no time in getting him up on the changing table.

She gave instructions to the girls as she removed his shoes and pulled down his tights. “Sarah will you prepare a nice warm bottle for him – he’s obviously upset.” Brian was hurt at the suggestion that a baby bottle would help but he had to admit that he was looking forward to it.

“Anna, will you take out a clean nappy for him please?” “Tina, will you get the plastic panties?” Sarah came in with his baby bottle while his mother was powdering him. He took it gratefully and started suc-king on it immediately. Gradually the tears dried up. “There, that’s better”, his mother said with a smile and all the girls giggled.

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DaraJaney · « **Reply #13 on:** September 03, 2006, 03:02:57 PM »

Each day Sarah was delighted to take Brian out in his harness for a walk. The second day she brought him down to the town centre with all her friends following along for the entertainment. Brian tried to ignore the commotion all around him as people stopped and stared and then roared laughing. He’d given up trying to push his baby dress down to conceal his nappy. It was pointless. Everyone could see immediately that he had a big thick nappy on under those frilly panties. He just kept his eyes on the pavement, suc-ked on his dummy, held his dolly and prayed for it all to be over.

After a few days everyone in the town had seen Brian and knew that he was going to be kept in nappies and baby dresses for the foreseeable future. They became almost used to the idea and after the first few days people just smiled and tittered as Sarah brought him around.

So she soon became bored with this too and Brian spent longer hours in his play-pen trying to glean some amusement from his baby toys and story books. While it was completely humiliating being paraded around the town in a baby dress and nappy or having Sarah’s friends tease him in his play-pen, at least is passed the time.

Alone in the play-pen his mind would begin to dwell on the fact that he was always going to be like this. He was never going to be able to use a toilet again. He was going to do everything in his nappy. Every piece of food he would consume would come from a baby bottle or be spoon-fed to him. His thickly nappied bottom would always be obvious to everyone beneath his short sissy baby dresses, adorned only by frilly panties. His long legs would never again enjoy the cover of a pair of trousers, being either bare or encased in embarrassing tights. He was going to be constantly strapped into a play-pen, cot or high-chair for the rest of his life.

His mother would often find him crying away in his play-pen, nursing his dummy desperately when these thoughts got in on him. Her response was inevitably another baby bottle of warm milk which duly led to another soaked nappy all of which made him feel even more depressed.

One day his mother was out in the back garden. He noticed that she had forgotten to tie his reins to the bars of his play-pen. He heard her start up the lawn-mower. That would take her at least twenty minutes.

He stood up looking nervously through the net curtains out the back window. He climbed out of the pen. He waddled into the hallway, looking carefully around him as he went. He went to the front door. Then he stopped. Where was he going to go? Everyone on the street knew about his predicament and thought it was hilarious. Everyone in town knew and nobody seemed to be outraged. Even the police sergeant had just roared laughing when he saw Brian.

If he sought help from anyone they would almost certainly just bring him back to his mother and he would be in even bigger trouble. He reckoned his best option was to be good and hope that some day he would be freed from this nightmare.

He plodded back to the play-pen and climbed back in. He broke down crying again. There was just no way out of this.

His mother came in when she had mown the lawn. She noticed his reins were untied. “Look at that!” she said as she picked up the loose reins. “Isn’t Mummy a silly-billy? You could have gotten out of your pen and come to some harm. Lucky you’re a very good baby and stayed in your pen. Still, my instructions are to keep you strapped in at all times no matter what”, she reminded him as she tied the reins firmly to the pen.

She insisted on putting Brian in his cot every afternoon for a nap. He normally just lay there wide awake and bored, staring at the animals rotating on the carousel above his cot.

He was becoming more used to it and this day he started to drop off. He woke to his mother’s voice. “Wakey-wakey”, she whispered giving him a little poke. He found himself curled up with a teddy, his soother still in his mouth. He looked up at her bleary eyed. “We mustn’t get too much sleep or we’ll be awake all night”, she said.

She pulled back the covers. “Oh, you’re wet”, she noticed immediately. Brian looked down at his nappy with alarm. When did that happen? His mother smiled, seeing his surprise. “It’s OK dear. It’s natural that you’ll start to lose control and wet yourself like a baby again.” He looked up at her, the distress obvious in his eyes. “But sure there’s no need for you to control your toilet anymore – you’re staying in nappies anyway. You might as well just let it go.”

He didn’t want to do that. He needed to believe that he didn’t really need to be in nappies. The thought made him cry again. “There, there. I’ll get you a nice warm bottle”, she said predictably.

Brian was on the changing table when he heard the front door open. His mother showed no concern that he was lying there completely naked when she didn’t know who might be coming in with Sarah.

But she was on her own. She looked into the utility room and saw her mother changing her brother. She didn’t even smile at this anymore it had become so normal. “Your baby brother wet himself in his sleep”, his mother informed her. “He’s obviously losing control of his toilet.” Brian glared at his mother. He wanted to scream “Don’t tell her!”

Sarah was delighted and came over to the changing table. “So he’s becoming just like a real baby!” “Yes”, his mother confirmed, “we’ll have to keep him in nappies now no matter what.”

As soon as he was changed and dressed in his yellow baby dress Sarah wanted to bring him out again. She was clearly eager to tell all the neighbours this exciting news.

“Mrs. Howard, Mrs. Howard”, she called out as soon as they were out the door. “What dear?” “Brian wet his nappy in his sleep! Mummy says he’s becoming just like a real baby and needs to be in nappies now.” Mrs. Howard was clearly surprised and looked at Brian expecting him to shake his head or protest in some manner. But the boy just looked down ashamedly, nursed his dummy and sniffled.