Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Recent Inactive Sissy Stories => Topic started by: littlediapersissy on March 19, 2019, 10:56:38 PM
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As his mother gently raised the front of the disposable diaper laid out just for him, 15-year-old Fred’s babyish knoblet stood to full attention. He could, of course, not help himself; why on earth would he deliberately become erect in front of Mommy, as he had recently been coaxed into addressing her? He had hoped the effort to lift up his bottom and simply let the extremely public diapering pass quickly, without notice, would overpower any other “special” feelings. But being on display at the Sissy Baby Princess Pageant - held annually, in secret, at an undisclosed location, and well-funded by a small group of extremely wealthy middle-aged women with an interest in the discipline of boys and men - in front of a massive crowd of hundreds of mostly women and girls, including many female classmates and the mothers of other classmates - made Fred feel very “special” indeed. As his mother Susan, a voluptuously large, gentle-eyed woman of 51, cooed at him, whispering bits of baby talk, it was as if she genuinely felt he were truly a baby - and involuntarily, he found himself breaking into a big, stupid, drooling smile, feeling warm, weak and submissive for his Mommy.
Some of this may have been a ploy to try to win the competition. Fred had been warned ahead of time on the scoring system for this section of the pattern. Sissy baby boys being diapered were rated on a scale of 1-10 in the following categories: Obedience, Babyishness, and Fit. A perfect 10 out of 10 would follow any and all instructions given by a woman or girl to the letter, be at all times an intellectual and emotional baby in his behavior for her pleasure, and will aid in ensuring that the diaper fits him tightly and snugly, giving a “cute” appearance that is the perfect accompaniment to ringlets, frilly panties and baby dresses.
On one side of the stage was a Nursery section, with full, towering stacks of enormously thick disposable diapers - the event was sponsored by both Pampers and Huggies, each of which had generously fabricated versions of their classic diapers fit for a wimpy teenage boy - rows upon rows of bottles of baby powder and baby oil, baby bottles, and baby food, a changing table ever-so-slightly angled towards the audience. On the other was the Sissy section, where rows of the girliest, frilliest, most babyish and humiliating dresses hung on full display, with petticoats and matching ruffled panties available in adjoining drawers - these horrors were still awaiting Fred, he knew. And a row of 9 other boys stood waiting in the wings to take his place - all naughty, unruly boys, all here decidedly against their will, wishing they were anywhere else. Fred’s case was special - or so he thought. His mother had caught him looking at sissy baby stories, pictures and art online, and was at first aghast that her son seemed excited not by pretty girls, but by the thought of being mommy’s pretty baby girl. Fred’s mother perhaps misinterpreted this as indicating that Fred literally wanted to be her baby again, only this time as a girl. And once she was set on this path, she became inflexible, determined to get every detail right to make her son’s sissy fantasies come true.
Fred’s diapering was almost complete. His mother seemed to delight in the display, slowly pulling open the tapes from each tab to cover the front of the diaper. Fred was simply mortified. This crowd, comprised of so many irresistibly pretty women and girls, were not only witnessing him being diapered by his mommy; it was the main event! Peals of laughter rippled through the crowd at Fred’s intense embarrassment. There was not the slightest indication anyone in the audience sympathized with his plight as, essentially, their captive; they clearly believed he deserved this and more, given his weak, sissyish demeanor. Finally, the diapering was done, and as Fred lightly shifted his diapered bottom on the changing table, he could feel how thickly, tightly padded he was. Filled with despair, Fred found it hard not to take a strange solace in the possibility that this portion of the display would lead to him scoring perfect 10s.
It was, of course, customary that any sissy baby being diapered before a live audience would graciously thank his diaperer, before bestowing upon her a kiss. If the diaperer were close in age to the sissy baby - say, close enough for a crush to develop - the sissy was to, at most, blow a kiss, or kiss the foot, as intimacy beyond this is undeserved for weak sissy babies who belong in diapers and frilly dresses. If, however, the diaperer is the sissy baby’s very own mother, grandmother, or aunt, a kiss on the mouth is strongly encouraged - because all good little babies kiss their mommies, Grammies and aunties. “Fank you mommy,” Fred croaked, blushing furiously, as he awkwardly leaned in to kiss his beaming mother on the lips.
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Fantastic start. Love the premise. I can't wait for more. :)
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A bashful, sullen 16-year-old, Daniel had been told that the fellow contestants in the Sissy Baby Princess Pageant, like himself, were wayward youths, boys run afoul of their mothers’ authority. Despite besting Daniel’s terrible secret - one he would do anything to conceal, even given the extreme nature of this situation - was that this very scenario was his personal fantasy. That is, to be put into thick, embarrassing, crinkly diapers, ruffled panties, petticoats, a pretty dress, and the kind of Barbie pink makeup a toddler girl might eagerly wear, by his dearest mother, on full display of the entire female contingent of his school and neighborhood. He knew it was absurd, ridiculous, self-destructive - he could do nothing to bury this intense urge to be humiliated and paraded around.
Most embarrassing of all, many of his fantasies culminated in being “paired off” with a fellow sissy baby, a boy whose fervent adoration of diapers and little girl dresses shone brightly as his. Daniel stood just offstage in an outfit just little girl enough to be embarrassing but mild enough to lend sharp contrast to what was to come: a Dora the Explorer t-shirt, pink corduroy pants, and underneath them, Disney Princess panties lined with lace. As he observed wimpy young Fred kissing his mother on the lips, Daniel could not keep his “Mr. Noodle,” as his own Mommy called it, from standing to attention. Deep in his heart of hearts, Daniel liked Fred - pretty, prissy, weak, whimpering, babyish Fred. Did he *like* like him? Daniel wondered if he was losing his mind, admiring the thickness and tightness of Fred’s gigantic Pampers, the fun, cute nursery-print design on the front tapes featuring smiling cartoon characters he vaguely recognized, the crinkliness of the diapers, or - *gulp* - what Fred might look like in one of the many adorably pretty dresses on display.
“What a sweet sissy baby he is!” Daniel’s mother remarked at Fred and Susan’s kiss. “I hope you have a big wet ready one for me, sweetie,” she remarked to Daniel, tightly gripping his arm. Daniel’s mother Nicole, 44, was blonde and heavyset, wore glasses, copious makeup that made her intimidatingly expressive, and was at once lilting, mocking, and a little crazy. “No way,” Daniel mumbled, trying to tear away from her subtly enough to prevent a response. “Excuse me, sweetheart?” she loudly remarked, cupping her hands to her face in a mock-gasp. “That doesn’t sound like something Diapered Danielle would say!” Daniel was in disbelief; his face blushed beet red. How did she know? “How did…” he found himself muttering aloud, unable to finish the sentence. “How did I find out you’re nothing but a big sissy?” Nicole continued for him, grabbing his arm again - this time, he could not release himself from her grip. “How did I know you love to visit websites where boys and men dress like baby girls? How did I know that all this time, with your sullen demeanor, you were just trying as hard as you could to hide that you wanted me to dress you in diapers, frills and lace - and you still couldn’t? That you were too much of a stupid wimp to bother deleting your browser history?” Daniel screamed, “I’m NOT! I’m NOT!!!” He sank to the floor, and his mother could only laugh. “Oh but you should be happy, sweetheart - all your dreams are about to come true.”
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8) I love this story more please Kevin. ;)
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Oh my Goddess, the fear and pleasure of being a diaper loving sissy..in a pageant no less with a fellow sissy as well.. One can only wish for moments like this. :-[
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Lovely story love to see this continued to see where it leads with the two new sissy babies
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Thanks to all of you for your sweet words of encouragement - and a special thanks to sissy servant for that wonderful picture.
Now that Fred was effectively imprisoned in his extra-thick Pampers, with his mouth freshly kissed and smeared with lipstick by his doting Mommy, it was time for a few accoutrements. Susan first placed a pink, lacey bonnet atop her teenage son’s head, from which a small rubber object lightly dangled. Fred would not realize it was it was a Minnie Mouse pacifier until Susan had brusquely shoved it in his mouth, and the crowd roared with approval. Susan turned to them, gave a wide smile and announced, “I present to you my sissy son, who will henceforth be named Felicity!” Fred - was that really his name any longer? - was so shocked that he couldn’t help but open his mouth in astonishment, his pacifier falling out; it was lucky for him that his Mommy was present to place his pretty binkie back into his mouth.
“Buuuh maughhhyy!” Was all one could hear shouted behind Fred’s pacifier; it was, of course, presumed that he meant to say “But mommy!” This drew the biggest wave of laughter at the event thus far.
“Wasn’t Felicity just a trooper for her diapering? I was surprised — her itsy bitsy ‘thing’ looks so tiny most of the time, but as soon as her Mommy starts putting fresh Pampers on, suddenly it’s so stiff, I could hardly fasten the tapes on her diapers!” More squeals of delight could be heard from the audience - and some seemed oddly familiar to Fred. It had a lightness, a hushed quality - could that have been Kate?!
Fred had feelings for many girls - okay, the immature wimp melted at the chance to talk to *any* girl in his class at high school. But he sometimes imagined that there was no girl on earth for whom a boy’s feelings were so tortured, so intense, so feverish, as for Kate. While publicly, Fred poked fun at Kate, taking every opportunity to put her down, privately, he found himself fostering a maddeningly intense crush on her. He had never felt anything so intense for any girl before, and yet he felt he had to keep up a facade of superiority. For Kate was a girl of contradictions: in many ways traditionally beautiful, tall - taller than Fred - extremely slender, blonde, always wearing a touch of lip gloss that made a strong contrast with her pale skin, she was also shy, awkward, and perhaps seen as stunted, donning pajamas to school until just recently, wearing extremely feminine clothes at odds with her quietness and plain, muted features. One day, Fred went from finding her risible to being mesmerized - and there was no turning back. Her being at this terrible, humiliating event was just about the worst thing he could conceive of - it was awful beyond imagination.
“And here to judge Felicity on her the Diapering round of this year’s event,” Susan continued, “is one of his schoolmates - in fact, Felicity has a big crush on her.” Fred froze, began to sweat and feel hot and cold all at once. Could it be? No, it couldn’t… no… No!! The teenager involuntarily trickled into his Pampers. “Hi Fred,” he heard Kate gleefully offer to him in her quiet, awkward voice, as she climbed the steps to the stage. “Or should I say Felicity? All this time, I thought you wanted to kiss me. Oh, you thought I didn’t know? I guess it turns out the whole time, you really wanted to kiss your Mommy. I don’t blame you - she’s so pretty!” The crowd was putty in Kate’s hands.
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Lovely story now fred really going to be humiliated can't wait to see what you may have instore for the sissy in future chapters
Keep up the great writing!
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I ever so wish this story would continue
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LOVE THIS STORY! The humiliation is so exciting..
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Hi everyone! I made a followup chapter with a little AI assistance that I liked too much not to share:
While Fred awaited his fate onstage, Nicole conducted some much-needed training with Daniel backstage, with the baby supplies. According to her, he was becoming “uppity,” a term she reserved for when he broke into his “big boy voice,” or hesitated before obeying her.
"Hold on," Nicole's merry voice rang out as she picked up an item from the sprawling collection of baby supplies. She spun around, her face breaking into an impish grin as she held up, with a florid gesture, a stack of thick, crinkly oversized Huggies.
A shudder ran through Daniel at the sight, but before he could try and compose himself, Nicole had already taken a few strides towards him. She carried the stack of diapers, each one of them a reminder of the absurdity going on around him; a badge of his infantilisation.
"Come here, Danny baby” Nicole beckoned, her fingers fondling the soft, spongey material of the diapers. Daniel hesitated, his face reddening as he understood what was expected. He extended a trembling hand towards Nicole who gave a hearty laugh, pressing the stack of diapers into his arms.
"Give them a nice, appreciative kiss, Danny," Nicole commanded, her eyes gleaming with a glint of sadistic pleasure. Daniel stared at the stark white of the new diapers, his face a mask of humiliation. But, given no choice, he lowered his flushed face towards the stack, pressing his lips to the top diaper in the stack. There was an odd texture of the quilted surface against his lips, a slightly cool temperature, and the faint scent of the diaper's fabrication – a mix of artificial baby powder and an unfamiliar clinical smell. Every part of the experience was a testament to his defeat.
"Thank it oh-so politely," Nicole added, her booming voice echoing in the nursery. "Remember, each one keeps you clean and protected. You should be grateful, Danny."
Daniel stuttered out a weak, "T-thank you," his lips brushing against the fabric again as he muttered his forced gratitude. Each diaper received a similar treatment, his tears threatening to dampen the material with each reluctant kiss. The scent seemed to grow more potent with each bout of contact, a fragrant reminder of the twisted carnival of humiliation he was a living part of.
Nicole arched her brow, her amusement swiftly fading into disgruntlement as she crouched down to Daniel's level. "What was that, darling? Was that really your best 'thank you'?" she questioned, her voice carrying a clear note of warning.
Daniel froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The humiliation still lingered stingingly on his lips with the residue of the diapers when he mumbled another half-hearted, "Thank you."
The tepid response did not satisfy Nicole. "That won't do, sweetheart," she admonished, her eyes flashing in ire. "One must always express gratitude properly."
With a swift motion, Nicole withdrew one of the diapers from the stack. "Each time you act like a good baby, you make Mommy very happy. But when you are not grateful ...well, let's just say Mommy gets very disappointed."
She pointed towards his plump, diapered bottom. "Ten spanks, as soon as we’re onstage” she announced, her voice steady and resolute. "That should be enough to make you remember your manners."
Daniel's heart pounded at her words, the prospect of a spanking in front of the onlookers adding to his mounting humiliation. And yet, there was no escape, no reprieve from the relentless parade of debasement. As the sound of Nicole's stern voice faded, replaced by an anticipatory silence, Daniel prepared himself for the impending punishment.
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But it must be said that Daniel's predicament was quite mild when compared with Fred's. The laughter and applause from the crowd were deafening. Fred could barely believe what was happening. The fickle crowd of women and girls in front of him that had been gossiping about the latest styles and their girl-models just moments ago, were now pointing and laughing at him...at Felicity. He could feel the Pampers bulk between his legs, and when he looked down, he could see his crush Kate, flashing a wicked smile. His mind was surreally slow, his heart pounding his fright into every single nerve-end.
As Kate sat him in the ridiculously oversized highchair, more peals of laughter echoed through the hall, this time induced by his initial struggle to get into the outfit. The only help he received came in the form of sarcastic cooing from his mother, “Aww, is baby having a tough time? Let mommy help you, precious.”
Before he could protest, Kate was standing in front of him, holding a pink baby bottle full of milk and an apple sauce-colored mush in a small bowl. A classy, long baby bib with the words 'I'm Mommy's Little Mess Maker' hung from her hand. His heartfall deepened as he realized it was for him. The crowd roared in approval as Kate delicately tied the bib around his neck, the commotion overwhelming Fred's last plea for an escape.
As he futilely tried to wiggle out of the highchair in as masculine a way as possible - which wasn’t very - Kate, with a surprising amount of strength in her slender, feminine figure, forced the nipple of the baby bottle into Fred’s mouth.
The shock of the cold milk against his tongue drew some semblance of the young man’s brain back online. He wanted to spit it out —how could he drink his milk like a baby - but the allure of Kate’s disarming, sweet smile tricked his mind into a semblance of tranquility.
“The first taste is the worst,” Kate told him, between laughs. “That’s what I’d tell my baby sister.” The crowd reveled in Fred’s discomfort, their eyes gleaming with pleasure at the sight of the boy swallowing his humiliation.
After managing two minutes of milk-drinking, Kate dipped a plastic spoon into the bowl of baby food. To Fred’s horror, he found himself opening his mouth instinctively at Kate’s gentle coaxing. His tongue convulsed in revolt at the taste of whatever indiscernible purée was now dropping slowly down his throat. He gagged, causing a fresh wave of hilarity to ripple through the audience.
Just when Fred thought things couldn’t get any worse, his Mom brandished the pièces de résistance, “I think our Felicity, being such a good sport and all, should get into some more pretty clothes.” Susan held out a frilly, lacy pink baby dress, complete with full white bloomers and a frothy petticoat. There was gasp of collective anticipation from the crowd.
The dress was dainty and horribly embarrassing, with ‘Princess Baby’ emblazoned in glittery script across the front. As he was helped into the petticoat, and then awkwardly maneuvered into the dress and bloomers, his rosy cheeks burned with shame. Yet, to add insult to injury he was stood on his feet, the back of the dress lifting to show the bulge of his diapers, causing tremors of merriment from the crowd.
“Doesn’t our Felicity make the most adorable sissy baby?” Susan coyly asked the audience, placing a tiara on Fred's flowing wig-covered head. The crown’s sparkles mirrored the twinkle in the room full of eyes, women and girls now snapping pictures and recording videos, captivated by the spectacle on the stage.
Amidst the whirl of laughter and taunting whispers, he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror stationed at the corner of the stage. Seeing himself paraded in the full baby attire was jarring —he hardly recognized himself, his identity unrecognizable behind the elaborate, infantile façade.
Tears of humiliation welled in his eyes, making his mascara run. Far from sparking sympathy, this only made the spectators laugh harder.
“Look," Kate pointed, "Felicity is even crying like a baby! She really is getting into character!" Applause thundered across the room, drowning any protest Fred could muster against his forced infantilism. His cheeks reddened, not only from the humiliating situation but also from the heavy blush Susan was now generously applying to his tear-streaked face.
Fred could do nothing but accept the reality of his predicament. His one consolation was that it couldn't possibly get any worse. But each time he thought that, he was quickly proven wrong.
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Fred was just getting used to the giggling and cameras flashing when Nicole, another mom hell-bent on apparently re-transitioning her son back to infancy, ushered Daniel on stage. He was dressed similarly to Fred, clad in nothing but an adult-sized Huggies, complete with Winnie the Pooh pattern and an extra padding for absorbency. Daniel was a kid who steered clear of any imaginable controversy and liked to vanish in the crowd. But the current proceedings would undoubtedly obliterate his love for invisibility.
Without further ado, Kate handed over a baby lemon dress and petticoat to Fred, instructing him to help Daniel into the attire. Fred tried to rebel, defending his already deflated dignity, but a swift, bare-bottom spank from Kate cut his protests short. Sans any further questioning, Fred helped Daniel into the humiliating outfit, trying hard not to choke on his mortified pride.
With both boys now standing on stage in similar infantile attire, Kate sprung next phase of unimaginable embarrassment. A mandatory Barney sing-along with a twist; the one who dipped most convincingly into their infant persona by singing and dancing with utmost enthusiasm would be declared the winner. And the prize was the short-lived freedom from this infantile world. Eager to escape their torturous roles, both boys prepared for the challenge.
Susan retrieved the dusty VHS of Barney from a box marked 'Baby Nostalgia.' The old VHS fluttered to life, ringing through the hall with the familiar theme tune that had once been every toddler’s favorite. Barney's purple, grinning face appeared on the screen, his green, rotund belly shifting as he began the familiar, but embarrassingly childish dance routine to his song, "The More We Get Together." The dinosaur's upbeat singing echoed in the hall, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere. The crowd watched with bated breath, the room vibrating in anticipation of the spectacle that was about to unfold.
Fred and Daniel, their faces flushed with humiliation, glanced at each other, taking deep breaths before awkwardly starting to bounce along to the cheery rhythm. Barney's wide, toothy grin seemed to mock them as the screen flickered, illuminating the boys' predicament for the eager onlookers. As they attempted to keep up with the dinosaur’s delightfully silly dance, their mothers and Kate circled them, suppressing their laughter and egging the boys on.
"Come on, Felicity, sing it with feeling!" Susan hollered, imitating Barney's mannerisms to get a rise out of the crowd. At the same time, Fred could only pray that the floor would swallow him.
After enduring another few rounds of "Old MacDonald had a Farm" and "This Old Man" – the kiddie classics Fred and Daniel mimicked with pointed precision – Kate showboated her expertise in Barney knowledge. "Oh come on, boys, you can do better!" she mock-chided. "See Barney here? Mix up the steps a little, add in a bit of toddler technique!"
Cue the chorus of “Johny Johny Yes Papa”, Daniel had a wrong move. He spun on the wrong beat and received quite the piece of his mother, Nicole’s mind, “Daniela, you call that a spin? Why, you look like a Pole dancer all set to get tips!”
The audience was in stitches, and Daniel felt his cheeks flame as his situation sunk in ever deeper, his voice wavering on the edges of the saccharine sweet rhyme, his demeanor crumbling under the weight of his humiliation.
Barney and his gang of prehistoric creatures were singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” when Fred missed a beat. “Oh, Felicity, seems like you're having a hard time keeping up!” Kate jested. The crowd howled, doubled over in laughter at Fred's poor attempt at climbing imaginary spouts with his flailing, gangly limbs. The laughter was piercing, a stark reminder of his loss of pride.
“Wheels on the Bus,” brought forth a new torture, as Susan gleefully corrected Fred’s motion of round and round, “No, Felicity darling, the wheels go ‘round and round’ not ‘round in circles’!”
Each lyric was a fresh stab at their dignity, each movement a mockery of their age. The room reverberated with peals of laughter like a nursery rhyme from hell. The song and dance routine from Barney and his cohorts seemed to drag on endlessly for Fred and Daniel. With every verse sung cheerfully by the purple dinosaur, the corresponding dance move executed animatedly by BJ and Baby Bop, the boys found themselves spiraling deeper into their nightmarish farce.
When the finale of "Barney is a Dinosaur" came on, both boys, thoroughly exhausted by the mental and physical strain of their forced performance, breathed a sigh of relief. The ordeal was far from over, of course, but every disgusting sweetness of that Barney tape was a closed chapter. As Barney ended his episode with a giggling wave, the room fell into a giddy, satisfied silence, the sordid spectacle reflected in their eyes, captured in their minds, and forever burnt into Fred and Daniel's memories.
Once the Barney marathon ended, sweat soaked through Fred and Daniel's baby dresses, and they panted, hoping that the ordeal was over. Kate, however, revealed that their efforts had been in vain. The singing competition had just been another scheme to exacerbate their embarrassment. This announcement further crushed their already beleaguered spirits.
Without wasting another moment, Nicole and Susan grabbed the arms of their respective, humiliated sons to hold them in place. Out of the blue, Kate brought out a futuristic metallic device from her bag, a wicked smile playing on her lips. She waved the device with a dramatic flourish and implanted something into the heads of both boys.
“Well," Kate said, her voice sharp and triumphant over the now-silent crowd, "It looks like our boys ? I mean, our baby girls, Felicity and Danielle, will be under my control from now on.”
Her words echoed ominously around the hall, each syllable eliciting gasps and whispers from the thrilled crowd. Fred and Daniel, the sensations in their heads giving way to a curious numbness, stood there, united in their unexpected bond of humiliation. All they could do was watch in wide-eyed terror as Kate sealed their fate with a wicked grin.
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"Behold, the pinnacle of neuro-biotechnology," Kate began in a pompous voice, holding up the futuristic device, "The Nanite Neuro-Controller: a revolution of neuroscience made possible by the pioneers of nano-technology, my distinguished colleagues and myself."
The women in the crowd leaned in, captivated, as Kate continued, "When I implanted this device in Felicity and Danielle, I loaded every nook and cranny of their cranial vessels with potent, mind-controlling nanites. These microscopic machines latch onto the brain's neurons and act as a conduit, transmitting my thoughts to their minds, which their cerebral cortex interprets as their own desires."
The room was one collective gasp; even Nicole and Susan looked surprised. Kate reveled in their bewilderment, her eyes shining with unmasked pleasure. "The technology is far from perfect. There are still glitches: tiny moments of sporadic failure when Felicity and Danielle might revert to being Fred and Daniel. But such intervals are rare and fleeting. They are for all intents and purposes, my living puppets."
To illustrate her point, Kate focused intently on Fred, concentrating on a specific command. The crowd watched in amazement as Fred – Felicity's – expression shifted from despair to a vacant grin. In an almost robotic manner, Fred moved across the stage to Daniel and curtsied gracefully. This drastically out-of-place behavior tickled the audience, their laughter hopping around the high ceiling.
Next, Felicity moved closer to Daniel, pouted her lips, and planted a big wet kiss on Daniel's. The audience shrieked in surprise, cameras capturing the unexpected show of affection. It was alarmingly ridiculous, seeing Fred’s wacky enthusiasm. Fred sighed and his smile grew even wider, as if he were a cartoon character falling in love. Daniel, under Kate's digital influence, blushed and responded with a similar foolish smile, her eyes blank and marvelling at the cartoon design on Felicity's pampers. Could there be a more embarrassing act?
Guided by Kate's malicious intentions, Fred, and Daniel began a series of ludicrous actions, dropping on their knees, cooing and gurgling at each other's diapers, and bouncing around like two-year-olds on a sugar high. With a couple of withering looks, Kate forced them to smilingly bestow kisses on the outside of each other's diapers. All the while, cheers and whoops echoed off the walls of the hall, only fueling the boys' animated attributes.
As the climax of her show, Kate had her automatic marionettes do an infantile dance routine, their limbs controlled to the rhythm of Kate's thriving thoughts. Twirling, giggling, and clapping wildly, they even chanted in unison, "We love our diapees; we love being baby girls!” Much to Kate’s delight, the performance was so convincing that it seemed they were actually thrilled to be regressed back into infancy.
But every once in a while, there was a stutter, the smallest fraction of realization in both Fred and Daniel's eyes. The person they once were would peak, eyes filled with horror and desperation before being drowned once again in the farcical persona of Felicity and Danielle. But by the end of their little demonstrations, it was clear that Kate was the puppeteer, and the boys were nothing more than her willing dolls.