Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: DaraJaney on July 18, 2006, 06:48:59 PM
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Every now and then a red mist descended on Brian. He would lash out at all around and wreck havoc. Within minutes the mist would lift and he would thoroughly and genuinely regret what he had done.
The family doctor kept urging his mother to send him to some kind of mental hospital but she was determined that she could handle the problem herself. Brian was so gentle and kind the rest of the time she couldn’t bring herself to send him away.
One day Brian’s six year-old sister, Sarah, drove him particularly mad. It was so embarrassing having such a stupid little sister who was only interested in playing with dolls. When the red mist descended there was nothing he could do about it. He could remember nothing when he recovered and looked around himself in a daze.
He stood in the middle of Sarah’s room. All of her dolls were scattered around. He had pulled all the heads off!
His mother was furious. Sarah was distraught. It seemed certain that Brian was destined for a mental hospital. He was terrified of the prospect. He had heard about straight-jackets, padded cells and electric shock treatment.
At the last moment his mother told him she had thought of an alternative - one last chance for him. He reckoned he would do anything to avoid being sent away. “You will be Sarah’s dolly”, she told him. He thought he heard her wrong. “You will have to let her dress you like her dollies and play with you like you were one of her dollies to make up for what you’ve done.”
Brian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sarah’s sobbing subsided as she considered the suggestion. “It’s that or you’re off to the hospital tomorrow”, his mother insisted.
Brian got little sleep that night. While having to dress up like a dolly would be absolutely mortifying, the more uncertain prospect of mental treatment seemed even more daunting.
He had to agree to his mother’s alternative. “Right!” his mother said. “Sarah, which dolly will we dress him up as?” His little sister examined the decapitated dolls and tried to decide which would be the most embarrassing costume for her big brother to have to wear.
Eventually she pointed to a Little Bo Peep doll. Brian cringed. The doll’s dress had a pink and blue design of little flowers. It was all trimmed with lace and had puffed sleeves and a huge skirt that came to just below the knees. Below that he could see ankle length bloomers with layers of lace all the way down. There was also a large semi-circular bonnet on the doll’s head, tied under the chin in a big bow.
But he wondered how on earth they would find an outfit like that to fit him. His mother took out the telephone directory and started phoning fancy dress hire shops. Brian gave a deep sigh and prayed that there would be no such costume in his size.
His mother went off in the car, leaving him wondering had she located a suitable outfit. Sarah flounced around the house delighted with herself and eagerly looking forward to her big brother’s humiliation.
His mother returned half an hour later. She carried a large cardboard box. Brian watched nervously as she brought it upstairs to his room. She instructed him to undress as she untied the string on the box. Sarah was told to leave the room. She skipped out happily and closed the door behind her.
Brian undressed down to his boxer shorts. His mother took the dress from the box. “I’m afraid it’s not quite the same but it’ll do.” She held the dress up by the shoulders. It was pale blue with a pattern of white fluffy sheep. Brian winced. It was similarly trimmed with lace at the collar, sleeves and hem but at least the skirt wasn’t as enormous as the doll’s.
His mother pulled the dress over his head and zipped him up. He looked in the mirror and saw that it came to just below his knees. His mother took a pair of bloomers from the box. He wanted to cry now. There were four layers of lace trim from the knee down, threaded with pale blue ribbon. “Off with those boxers”, his mother instructed.
Brian initially couldn’t bring himself to take off his boxers with the inevitable prospect of replacing them with the horrid bloomers. “Now!” his mother shouted and he jumped. He reached up under his dress and pulled down the boxers.
His mother took them from him and gave him the bloomers in exchange. He took them by the waist band and eventually stepped into them. He pulled them up under his dress.
His mother looked at him and smiled. Brian tried not to cry. He wanted to avoid the mirror but eventually he had to look. He wished he hadn’t.
When he looked back at his mother she was examining what looked like a plain white skirt. She picked up a long plastic strip and started threading it through a hole in the hem of the skirt. As it fed through it made the skirt arc out in a wide circle. When the whole plastic strip was inserted she handed the skirt to him. “This hoop goes under your dress”, she told him.
Brian was very puzzled but took it. He stepped into it and pulled it up under his dress. It made his dress stand out at a huge angle. He now realised why the doll’s skirts looked so big.
He wondered how he was supposed to manoeuvre about with this big contraption on. When he looked up his mother was holding a wig. The hair on top was parted in the middle and pulled straight on either side where it met at least a dozen sausage curls gathered in pale blue ribbons.
She placed it on his head before he could protest and adjusted it until it was perfectly centred. The curls fell on his shoulders. Then she took out an enormous bonnet, put it on top and tied the thick pale blue ribbon under his chin in a bow.
Finally, she put white ankle socks on his feet and then blue Mary Janes which she strapped on. “There we are.” She stood back to take it all in.
He stood there with his hands resting on his enormous skirts dreading to think what he looked like. “We’re ready Sarah”, she called out before he had the chance to prepare himself.
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He heard the door open and nearly wet himself. He had to turn his head to see Sarah come in because his bonnet only allowed him to see straight ahead.
Sarah jumped up and down with glee. Brian cringed. His pressed his knees together and wrung his hands which only made him look even more pathetic and they both laughed.
Sarah took his hand and led him out of the room. His hooped skirt swayed around him as he moved. She led him downstairs and the skirt fluttered up about his waist forcing him to push it down again to avoid …. well, how could he be any more embarrassed than he was?
Sarah had set up her toy tea set in the lounge and made Brian sit down while she pretended to pour from the pot. Brian sat and the skirts ballooned up around him. He battened them down and accepted the tea cup and saucer from his sister.
In the hallway his mother picked up the phone and dialled. A minute later she told them “Cindy, Laura and Sue will be over in a few minutes.” Brian cringed yet again. She was going to embarrass him in front of all of his little sister’s friends.
When they arrived they were thrilled to see Sarah’s fifteen year old brother dressed as Bo Peep. He was forced to play with them all day. They particularly enjoyed running games where Brian would always lose because his hooped skirt hampered him to much.
At the end of the day when the girls prepared to leave he dreaded what they were going to tell everyone else. But then his mother gave him something else to think about. “Come back tomorrow girls and we’ll see what other costume we can find for him.” Brian wanted to die. How long was she going to force him to do this?
The next morning the Bo Peep costume was packed into the box to be returned to the shop and he was relieved to see the back of it. Sarah picked out another dolly but he wasn’t allowed to see which one she picked.
He lay nervously on his bed while his mother was in town. He tensed when he heard the car return. Another box was placed on his bed. His mother pulled out a pink ballet costume with tutu attached.
Brian squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Sarah took the ballet costume from her mother and eagerly handed it to Brian. He held it up by the shoulder straps and examined the costume with dismay. He was about to step into it when his mother said “just a minute”. He wondered if he was being reprieved but his mother was holding up a pair of pink tights. “You need to put these on first.”
Sarah had to help him put on the tights properly. “No, you need to roll the leg up before you put your foot in it.”
Brian stood in front of the mirror and looked forlornly at his reflection. The tutu stood out at almost ninety degrees and barely covered his pink bottom. He tried to push it down a bit but the stiff netting sprang back as soon as he let go.
Sarah and her friends had great fun that day making Brian prance around in his tutu. When his mother brought them soft drinks, he was at least relieved to be able to sit down. He went over to the armchair and hesitated before he sat wondering how to handle the tutu.
He tried to push the back under his bum but the front sprang up as he did so giving the little girls a perfect view of the bulge under his pink tights. As they tittered he just plopped down on the chair leaving his tutu sticking up at the back.
The next day he was determined to see which dolly Sarah was going to pick. She picked up a baby dolly. It had a pink dress with matching bonnet, mittens and booties. Sarah held it up admiring the outfit and then looked at Brian trying to imagine how he would look in it. She lifted the hem of the dress and examined the matching frilly panties underneath. Brian tried not to show his horror. “This one”, she said as she handed it to her mother.
Brian stood in his room, head down like a prisoner awaiting execution as his mother opened the large box from the fancy dress shop. He was treasuring the last moments in his boxer shorts before he had to put on the inevitable frilly panties.
But his mother told him to lie on the bed. He gave her a puzzled look but she just nodded towards the bed. He did what he was told. She pulled his boxer shorts off leaving him squirming on the bed with his private parts fully exposed in front of her for the first time in years.
She held up a white cotton towel. “Bottom up”, she instructed. Brian frowned at her wondering what this was all about. Then he saw the large safety pins in her other hand. “Please Mum, no!” He realised that she was going to put a nappy on him. She ignored his pleas and pulled the nappy around his bottom, up between his legs and pinned it in place.
He lay back and stared at the ceiling in frustration. Next thing she was pulling some kind of plastic pants up his legs. She made him lift his bottom while she pulled these over his nappy.
Then she produced a large pink soother and held it in front of his face. He was past resistance by now and simply opened his mouth. She pushed the soother in.
She took the baby dress from the box and held it up to admire. She pulled it over his head and buttoned it up at the back. He looked down at the pink dress. It flared from breast level and there were several layers of fluffy material underneath to make it really stand out.
She fastened mittens on his hands, booties on his feet and tied the bonnet on his head. Finally she produced the frilly panties which were pink with several layers of white lace across the bottom. He thought they were surely too big for him but when she pulled them up over his nappy and plastic pants he was dismayed to find that they fitted quite snugly.
His mother pulled him over and turned him towards the mirror. His immediate concern was that his dress wasn’t even long enough to cover his panties. The thick frills really accentuated the thickness of the nappy underneath. He felt so exposed on seeing his long legs, bare all the way from his panties to his booties. He crossed his legs as best he could to try to minimise the exposure but the thickness of the nappy between his legs made even this difficult.
He looked up at his mother with a desperate pleading look on his face but she just called Sarah in. Brian was horrified when she walked in and gasped at the sight of him in the baby dress. “He’s wearing a nappy!” she blurted immediately and roared laughing. Brian had to admit that it was obvious. He looked at the dolly lying on the bed and noticed enviously how her dress at least covered her panties.
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They brought Brian downstairs. He flopped down in the sofa and crossed his arms in front of his chest in disgust. His mother came over with a large baby bottle full of milk. She had to be joking, he thought. “Now, Sarah’s baby dolly was very lifelike and you could feed her from a bottle, so you’re going to have to let Sarah feed you just the same way.”
Brian sighed heavily. Sarah took the bottle eagerly from her mother, climbed up beside him on the sofa and reached for the soother to remove it from Brian’s mouth. Not wanting to have to drink from the bottle, he clamped his mouth on the soother. “It’s OK”, Sarah said, “baby can have his dummy back once he’s had his bottle”.
His mother laughed. Brian allowed Sarah to remove his soother and accepted the bottle. It took a few moments, and required a little encouragement from Sarah, before he actually started suc-king but eventually he was working his way through the bottle with a very glum look on his face.
Sarah’s friends arrived in time to see Brian finish his bottle. They all wanted to have a go at feeding him. He was so relieved when he finally slurped the last of the milk.
Then his mother came in with a plastic bowl and spoon. Brian cringed yet again when he realised that the girls were going to get to spoon-feed him. Sarah took the bowl excitedly. “Just a moment!” her mother interjected and tied a bib around his neck. “I know how upset he’ll be if he gets his pretty pink dress dirty.” The girls all laughed as if this was the funniest thing ever.
While he was being spoon-fed, his mother went out the front door. She returned after a few minutes carrying a play-pen which she set up in the middle of the room. When Brian’s feed was over she told him to get in the play-pen. “Please, Mum!” he begged. “Now, now. Babies don’t talk”, she scolded him and pushed the soother back into his mouth. “One more word from you and you’ll stay as a baby for a second day.”
Brian gave her a seriously wounded look and he plodded over to the play-pen. He sat down in the pen and she clicked the side shut. “By the way”, his mother continued, “Sarah’s baby doll had one other feature that you’ll have to imitate”. He looked up at her from the pen wondering what she meant. “She actually wet her nappy.”
Brian sat there stunned. The girls jumped up and down with glee. Surely his mother was joking, teasing him. “Brian’s going to wet his nappy!” Sarah chanted.
It wasn’t long before the full bottle of milk started taking effect. Brian sat in the play-pen shifting uneasily in his nappy praying that his mother was not serious. The girls made him play with lots of different baby toys that were recovered from the attic. They sorted through the toys rejecting anything that said “three years or over” as “too complicated for our baby.”
The pressure grew on Brian’s bladder. He reckoned he could hold out no longer. His mother passed through the room and he started grunting through his dummy to get her attention.
“What’s wrong with our pretty baby?” she asked. Brian winced. He pointed his mittened hand at his nappy. “Oh, have we a wet nappy dear?” his mother asked. The girls all surrounded the play-pen in anticipation. Brian shook his head and gave what he thought must be his most endearingly pleading look that said “OK, a joke is a joke, now please let me out of this nappy.” “Well, just let the girls know when you are wet and we’ll get you changed quickly”, she said casually and walked out of the room.
But Brian decided that there was no way he was going to be forced to wet a nappy. Enough was enough! He was going to take this baby stuff off and hang the consequences.
He tugged at the pink mittens on his hands. They wouldn’t come off easily. He examined them more closely and saw that they were buckled firmly at the wrist. They made his fingers useless and he realised that he could only be freed by someone else and the chances of any of the girls obliging were zilch.
He realised that he was stuck. He was going to have to wet himself. He held out as long as he could. The girls surrounded the play-pen and kept him occupied with the toys. He was playing with a toy that made animal sounds. Even with his mittens on he could press the picture of a cow and it would go “Moo”.
The girls noticed him pause for a moment. He was clearly distracted. “Baby’s wetting his nappy!” Sarah shouted with glee. “Mum, mum, come quick. Baby is wetting his nappy!”
Brian cringed as the warm pee spread around his nappy. He hung his head in abject embarrassment and the girls jumped with glee. His mother came in wiping her hands on a towel and was in no doubt from Brian’s demeanour that he had indeed wet his nappy in front of the girls.
Eventually Brian looked up. “Are we all done?” his mother asked to titters from the girls. Brian thought about it – he wasn’t really. He wondered if the nappy could take it all. His mother concluded from his lack of response that he had more to do. “I’ll come back in five minutes”, she said, “he should be all done by then.”
Brian peed again and it continued for a full minute. When he was done he tried to move a little. He froze as he felt excess urine swish about inside the plastic pants. The cloth nappy had not been able to take it all.
When his mother returned she opened the side of the play-pen and told him to stand. He very carefully rolled onto his knees, certain that the plastic pants couldn’t hold it all in. Then he gingerly got to his feet.
“Let’s see now”, his mother said and unceremoniously pulled down his frilly panties. Brian instinctively pressed his knees together in reaction to this sudden exposure and pushed his skirts down. But it was all in vain. His mother and the girls could see his nappy clearly. “My goodness, that was a big one”, his mother said.
Brian himself could not see below his enormous skirts and could only watch the delighted faces of the girls as they examined his soggy nappy. Eventually his mother pulled up his frilly panties again and he was actually relieved to have them restored.
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She brought him into the utility room where she had set up a table in the middle with a plastic covering. At the side of the table lay a clean nappy and a dry pair of plastic pants. There were a number of bottles and tubes along with a box of baby wipes. Brian nearly cried at the thought of having his nappy changed just like a baby.
The girls came in behind his mother. She told him to hop up on the table. He did so very carefully, still not sure that the plastic pants would hold in all his wet. Brian looked at the girls with great concern. Were they going to see him being changed? His mother noticed the despairing look on his face. She turned to the girls.
“Now girls, I have to change his nappy”, she said. Brian was relieved that she was going to send them from the room. “So all gather round and make sure you can see”, she continued to his consternation. A few exasperated whimpers emanated from behind his soother as the girls all took up vantage points around the changing table.
His mother pushed him back on the table and pulled down his frilly panties. Brian started crying as he realised without any doubt that she was going to change his nappy in front of the girls. As she pulled down the plastic pants his mother noticed the tears. “Aw, we’ll have you all nice a clean in a few minutes”, she assured him. He continued to cry. “Just suc-k on your soother there dear, that’s what it’s for”, she told him, “and you’ll soon feel better.” The girls chuckled. He just held the soother in his mouth. He refused to actually nurse it.
He braced himself as his mother started unpinning his nappy. The little girls were going to see everything. Tears flowed more heavily as she pulled the soggy cloth nappy off him. He stared at the ceiling but heard the tittering from the girls. He unconsciously started nursing the dummy. “Look! He’s suc-king on his dummy”, Sarah shouted and all the girls started laughing uncontrollably. “He’s such a big baby!” “He loves his soother now!”
He could only lie there crying as his mother took a baby wipe and cleaned around his groin. He was quick enough to turn over when she told him, relieved to shield his genitalia. He was now face to face with one of Sarah’s friends – her face smug, his face tear-stained. When he inadvertently suc-ked on his dummy again she laughed in his face.
His mother rubbed creams around his bottom and groin and finally powdered him and he turned over and back as instructed. She took her time taking the clean nappy. He lay there with his genitals on full view wishing she would hurry up and put his nappy on.
Eventually she took the cloth, slid it under his bottom and brought it around in front to pin in place. He never realised he’d ever be so relieved to have a nappy put on him. His modesty was restored. His dignity was another matter and soon his plastic pants and frilly panties were back in place and he was brought back to his play-pen.
During the afternoon the need to do a number 2 grew but he fought off the urge. It was bad enough wetting himself in front of everyone but to soil himself would be the end of the world.
Before his evening meal his mother asked him did he not need to do a number 2. He shook his head as nonchalantly as he could. The girls laughed delightedly at the thought.
Brian was given another baby bottle of milk – the girls fighting over who would feed him next. They spoon-fed him another bowlful of unidentifiable mush.
He was relieved to be back in his pen where playing with his baby toys was marginally less demeaning than been spoon and bottle-fed by six-year-olds.
After a while he felt rumbles in his tummy. He started feeling the need to do a number 2 again. He concentrated on fighting this urge off again. But it grew and grew, and suddenly there was a sickening splosh and farting sound as Brian’s nappy filled with a very liquid number 2.
The girls all turned in shock and looked at the horrified boy in the play-pen. A few uncertain titters emerged from the girls but even they started to feel sorry for Brian at this point. Sarah ran out and fetched his mother. As they returned to the room the other girls were running out holding their noses.
They found Brian sitting frozen in the pen with tears streaming down his face and suc-king vigorously on his soother. His mother displayed an obviously guilty smile. Perhaps she had overdone it.
She had to gather her courage before moving closer to the boy in order to let him out of the play-pen. She opened the side and stood well back. Brian was clearly very reluctant to budge, afraid that the slightest movement would lead to another outburst.
Eventually he rolled over onto his knees very carefully. Suddenly there was another splosh and he froze again. His mother discretely moved away a few yards.
They stood well back as Brian walked from the play-pen to the utility room. They all cringed as he sat up on the table. They could hear the squelch as the mess was squeezed around his nappy.
This time the girls watched from the doorway as his mother very tentatively removed his nappy and dealt with the mess. A couple of them ran off screaming half way through.
Brian was restored to his play-pen but he was terrified of more rumbling in his bowels. He prayed for night-time and his release from his nappy and baby clothes.
The girls went home to bed and his mother freed him from the cot. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in the nappy overnight”, she told him. He looked up in abject disappointment. “Just in case there are any more after effects”, she said with a sympathetic look. Brian realised she was right as his tummy rumbled again. A messy nappy was preferable to a messy bed.
She removed his bonnet, booties, frilly panties and baby dress but left the mittens on. So he had no choice about staying in the nappy for the night anyway. He couldn’t sleep properly due to the unfamiliarly bulky nappy on him and because of his concern that he might soil himself again.
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Around 2am he drifted off for a moment only to be rudely awakened by a sudden urge to go. He filled his nappy again. He lay there curled in a ball until the smell forced him to go and waken his mother. He got little more sleep but there were no further incidents before morning.
When it was time to get up, both his mother and Sarah came into the room. “Are we OK?” his mother asked, nodding towards his nappy. He nodded. “Right then Sarah”, his mother asked. “What dolly do you want him to be today?” Brian cringed at the realisation that his punishment was not over even after such a terrible humiliation. At least he reckoned that any other dolly outfit would have to be better than being dressed like a baby girl and forced to use a nappy.
“Can he be my baby dolly again Mum?” she asked. “Sure”, his mother replied and shoved the soother into Brian’s mouth again. He cried as his mother put him back in his baby dress and frilly panties and the nappy stayed on.
Sarah gave him his morning bottle and then spoon-fed him his breakfast. Then he was put in the play-pen again. He sat there in despair unable to believe that he was spending a second day in nappies. His distraught look when he heard Sarah’s friends arriving was obvious.
The girls jumped up and down with glee when they saw Brian still in his baby dress. “Is he still in nappies?” one of them asked and they were delighted when this was confirmed.
They played with him all day. At about 2pm, after being spoon-fed his lunch by all the girls in turn his mother said “I think Brian is tired after all that playing. I’ll bring him upstairs for a nap.” The girls all laughed at this but Brian was relieved to get a few moments peace.
His mother brought him a bottle of juice or milk every few hours which ensured that he needed regular changing. The girls attended each and every changing and never seemed to tire of seeing Brian have his bottom cleaned and powdered.
Brian had been holding off from wetting his nappy as long as possible that evening when his mother brought him yet another bottle. He winced, took out his dummy and begged “Please, Mum!” She looked at him crossly. “I warned you about speaking. You’ve just earned yourself another day in nappies!” Brian was stunned. He sat there with his mouth open which made it easy for his mother to reinsert the dummy firmly.
The girls cheered and clapped their hands in approval. Brian contemplated another day in nappies and his baby dress for a few moments. He decided he’d had enough. He spat out his dummy. “There’s no way I’m staying another minute like this”, he shouted. He tugged at the mittens. He pinned them under his arms and pulled. No use. He tried to pull them off with his teeth. They wouldn’t come off.
His mother and the girls watched with amusement. He was getting angrier and angrier. He tried to reach for the zip on his dress but it was useless with the mittens on. They could now see that the red mist was descending. He desperately tried to push down his panties. He squirmed and stretched and did everything in his power to get some part of his humiliating outfit off to no avail.
His mother could see he was in a rage at his helplessness. She put her arms around him and held him tight. He tried to wriggle out of her embrace but she held on with all her strength. As he began to calm down, she pushed the soother back into his mouth. He started suc-king on the dummy and it helped him calm a little more.
She gradually released her hug. His frustration was obvious but he seemed to be directing more of it into the soother. She picked up a cuddly teddy bear and handed it to him. He held it tightly to his chest and calmed further.
She opened the side of the play-pen and pushed him in and encouraged him to sit. As usual Brian had no memory of his fit. He remembered being frustrated at having to be dressed like a baby girl for another day. The next thing he remembered was sitting in the play-pen, suc-king determinedly on the soother and holding the teddy bear tightly.
He looked up at the others wondering how long he had been suc-king on the dummy and hugging the teddy. They tried to conceal their amusement at how the soother and cuddly toy had calmed him down.
There were no further incidents that evening. He accepted the bottle. He wet his nappy, was changed and put to bed early in a nice dry clean nappy.
The next day he was bottle-fed, spoon-fed and put in the play-pen without a murmur. He was terrified that any recognisable utterance would earn him another day in nappies.
At about 11am a lady called to the door. He thought he recognised the voice. His mother brought her into the kitchen and they chatted for a while. Sarah kept Brian distracted with his toys.
After half-an-hour or so the lady came into the lounge, looked at Brian in his play-pen and smiled. He saw now that she was a psychiatrist that he had seen before. Unlike most people who saw him in his baby dress, she didn’t roar laughing.
“Hello dear”, she said. Brian just looked at her. She turned to his mother. “So you reckon that the mittens helped control his fit?” His mother nodded. “And the soother and teddy bear helped bring him out of it?” His mother just looked down at Brian in his play-pen. He didn’t like the sound of this.
“Right! Well, I’d suggest that you keep him like this for another week and I’ll come by again and see how things have gone”, the lady said. Brian’s eyes widened in alarm and he looked up in desperation at his mother. “OK”, she said, “if you say so.”
With that the lady left and his mother showed her to the door. When she came back into the lounge, Brian was up on his knees clinging to the side of the pen. He looked up at her with pleading eyes and whimpered from behind his soother. “It’s just for a week”, she said. His shoulders sagged visibly. He looked at his sister who had an undisguised grin on her face.
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“We’ll have to get him a second pretty baby dress if he’s going to spend a week in nappies”, his mother said to Sarah. “Oh yes”, his little sister agreed, “can I help pick it out?” Brian looked very unhappy at this prospect.
His mother called a neighbour to come in and mind him while they went to get his second baby dress. She only had to make one call. Mrs. Howard next door was only too delighted to see Brian in his pink baby dress and nappy.
He was sitting in the play-pen when she came in. She put her hand to her mouth to try to stifle a huge guffaw when she saw Brian in his outfit. His red-cheeked face framed by the pink bonnet was one of the funniest sights she had ever seen. She didn’t speak for a couple of minutes because she would not have been able to say anything without bursting out laughing.
His mother made him stand up so Mrs. Howard could see his outfit in its full glory. He could see her taking in each part – the bonnet, the soother, the petticoats, the panties and the booties.
His mother pushed him to turn around. As he stood with his back to them she raised his petticoats in case Mrs. Howard hadn’t noticed the frilly panties, which was unlikely. He could hear muffled sniggers as he stood with his cheeks burning brighter. Eventually Mrs. Howard commented “that must be an old fashioned cotton …” she choked momentarily “…nappy he has on.”
“That’s right”, his mother confirmed. “We’ll only be gone for a couple of hours at most, so if he wets or soils himself it can wait until we get home.” Mrs. Howard was clearly amused by the mental picture this conjured up. Brian was relieved that he wasn’t going to have his nappy changed by a neighbour.
But as his mother and sister were about to go Mrs. Howard assured them “it’s not long since I’ve had to change nappies so there’s no problem – I’ll change him if needs be” and she smiled down on the boy in the play-pen.
When they were gone Mrs. Howard went in and sat by the pen. “Who’s a pretty boy then?” she teased and lifted his petticoats to see his frilly panties again. He glared at her. “So you’re going to be in nappies for a week then?” He frowned. “That’ll be nice for you.”
Two hours later they returned to find Brian still in his pen. He looked particularly cross and his cheeks were burning brightly again. They heard the back door close. Mrs. Howard came in. “Oh, there you are”, she said brightly, “I was just disposing of his poopy nappy.”
When she was going she turned and said “just call if you ever want me to babysit again. He was as good as gold. You should probably keep him nappies all the time!” She tittered as she gave him a dainty wave.
Brian’s new baby dress was stored away for the next day leaving him wondering what had they got for him now.
The next morning his mother came into his bedroom and opened the curtains. “Morning!” She came over to his bed. “Have we anything in our nappy for mummy this morning?” He nodded glumly. “Aw, here.” She pushed his soother in. “Number 1?” He nodded.
While his mother was powdering his bottom, Sarah brought in the bags with his new outfit. She was clearly excited.
Once his mother had his plastic pants pulled up over his nappy she went over to the bags. Brian watched with trepidation and suc-ked on his soother. She pulled out a peach dress with very wide lace around the collar, sleeves and hem. The colour was very bright but at least there didn’t seem to be any petticoats.
She threw the dress over his head, pulled his arms through and zipped him up. He looked down at the lace trimming that must have been three-inches wide. She got him to stand up. He could see in the mirror that the bottom two inches of his plastic pants were visible below the lace hem.
Sarah brought over his panties holding them up to examine them. They were white with broderie anglaise trim around the leg openings. He stepped into them and his mother pulled them up over his plastic pants. He glanced in the mirror and could see the broderie anglaise trim perfectly. His peach bonnet had the same trim. His eyes followed the semi-circle of lace all the way around his head as she tied the ribbon under his chin. He had to sit up on the changing table while his mother tied the ribbons on his booties into nice bows.
He stood up again and presumed that they were finished. It could have been worse. But his mother rummaged in another large bag. She took out a separate four-layered lace-trimmed petticoat. Brian winced.
He held his arms out as his mother pulled the petticoat up under his dress. She smoothed the dress over the enormous crinoline. She turned him towards the mirror. His full panties were now visible up to the waistband and the material was quite thin so the outline of his nappy and the pins were clearly visible through it.
His mother made him turn around and bend over a little. The tightly packed swirls of his organza petticoat appeared beneath his dress.
His mother had to help him down the stairs as he couldn’t see the steps because of his enormous petticoats. She put him in the play-pen. When he sat down he gave a little jump because he sat on something. He rummaged under his petticoats and pulled out a squashed doll.
When he went to sit a second time he tried to smooth his dress under his bottom but it didn’t reach that far and rested in a perfect cone all around him.
-
The next morning his mother asked Sarah to spoon-feed him his breakfast. She heaved a big sigh. “Come on now, Mummy has to prepare his bottle.” Sarah stomped over reluctantly and took his bowl of cereal and started feeding him. Only a couple of days ago she thought this was hilarious but she was bored with it already.
After breakfast Brian was put in the play-pen. “Can I go over to Susie’s to play please Mum?” Sarah asked. “Are you not going to play with your baby brother?” her mother asked in return. Sarah made a pained expression and stomped her foot. “That’s boring”, she protested, “all he can do is play with dolls and stupid baby toys.” Brian looked hurt.
“But you can bring your friends over to play with him”, his mother suggested. “But Susie’s got a new swing in her back garden – we want to play on it”, Sarah pleaded. “Well, OK, I suppose”, her mother conceded and Sarah ran out the front door before she changed her mind.
Brian had been mortified sitting in the play-pen in his baby dress while the girls played with him but at least it passed the day. He looked around the play-pen forlornly at his dolls, cuddly toys and letter blocks and wondered how he was going to amuse himself.
“Aw, is Babykins all alone today?” his mother asked sympathetically. Brian looked up sadly. “I’ll play with you a little later but I have work to do for now.”
He plinked away unenthusiastically on a toy xylophone while his mother hoovered. After that she knelt by the play-pen and got him to spell out simple words with the letter blocks. Then the door bell rang.
It was Susie’s mother. “I heard the poor little baby has no one to play with”, she said as she entered the room, “so I brought over some videos.” She stopped dead when she saw Brian in his peach dress and bent over laughing. Bringing over the video was obviously just an excuse for her to get a look at him.
When she had her laugh she pushed the video in and switched on the TV with the remote. The credits came up. “The Fairies”. Brian sighed. Two young women came on dressed in big frilly fairy dresses and pranced around the place singing.
His mother brought Susie’s mother into the kitchen for a coffee and they left him in front of the TV and the excruciating programme. Brian looked at the remote on the coffee table. He doubted that he would be able to operate it with the mittens on but he was desperate to fast forward the tape or something.
He reached through the bars of the pen as far as he could. He was just about able to get the tip of his mitten on the remote but when he tried to edge it closer it slid further away.
He sighed and sat up in the pen again. He looked towards the kitchen and wondered could he risk popping out of the pen for second to get it. He rolled over onto his knees. He heard his mother walk across the kitchen floor and quickly sat back down on his bottom. He was now too nervous to try it.
He needed to wet his nappy but he didn’t want to be changed in front of Susie’s mother. When they were finished their coffee they came in and sat in the lounge. They tittered at the silly TV programme which Brian was obediently watching.
Brian wondered if they realised that his nappy was filling with warm pee as they sat there. He waited a while in his wet nappy hoping Susie’s mum would go. But when they threatened to go out into the garden to inspect some new flowers, he knew he had to give in.
He signalled to his mum. “Have we a wet nappy dear?” she asked. Susie’s mum tittered. Brian nodded. She laughed out load at that.
He was brought to the changing table and Susie’s mum watched amusedly as he had his wet nappy removed, was cleaned and powdered and pinned into a dry nappy. Seemingly satisfied with the show, she departed shortly afterwards.
Brian reckoned that if he didn’t manage to throw a fit of some kind before the week was out there must be a distinct possibility that he would be kept in nappies indefinitely. But he knew from past experience that he couldn’t fake one of his red-mist fits. He was concerned that if his mother realised that he was faking a fit, he might end up even worse off. He looked down at his baby dress, shuffled uneasily in his nappy and wondered how much worse things could get.
He tried to work himself up into a genuine fit. He took out his soother and tried to think of all the humiliation heaped upon him over the last few days. There was no way they could keep him like this, he thought, as he got more worked up. This is totally unacceptable.
His mother came into the room and noticed his angry state. “Where’s Babykins soother gone?” She found his soother and put it in his mouth. She picked up a pretty dolly and made him hold it. She adjusted his bonnet and flicked the end of his nose lovingly.
She dusted around the room, smiling across to him and making soothing noises while his anger subsided. It was just impossible to work up a rage with that damn soother in his mouth and holding a dolly. So he started crying instead at his pathetic failure.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have a nice warm bottle for you in a mo”, his mother said and went out to the kitchen. He was blubbering away when she returned with the bottle. She came quickly over to the play-pen, removed his soother and replaced it with the bottle.
His crying subsided as he suc-ked on the bottle. It was just that it gave him something else to think about. “There, that’s better”, she observed as the tears dried up. Now he was even more frustrated that she believed a warm bottle of milk calmed him down successfully.
He spent a thoroughly boring afternoon with another couple of hours of the Fairies and several picture books. While it was humiliating having people treat him like a baby, at least they were company. Sitting alone in the play-pen was much worse and let him dwell on his predicament.
-
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.
-
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.
(http://unclegadget.com/UncAds/Elec2wires.jpg) (http://unclegadget.com)
-
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.”
-
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.
-
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.
-
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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-
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.
-
A week later the psychiatrist came to check up on Brian. His mother filled her in. “Well, since you took away all his boy’s clothes and his other boy’s things and left him with only baby dresses and nursery furniture, he’s had to accept that he’s going to be kept as a little baby girl. He’s been as good as gold since. Sarah takes him out and about every day for a walk so all the neighbours and pretty well everyone in the town now knows that he’s in nappies and will be staying that way.”
They heard a sniffle from Brian sitting in the middle of the room in his play-pen.
“His school friends have all seen him in his nappies and baby dresses and they all tease him terribly so I don’t think he’s ever going to want to go back to school anyway. Oh, and he’s started losing control over his toilet. When I wake him from his naps he’s usually wet.” “Yes, it shouldn’t be too long before he loses all control and he’ll have to accept then that he needs to be in nappies no matter what”, the lady explained.
Brian’s soother was moving in and out at quite a rate as he heard his depressing recession into babyhood being described in such blunt terms.
“There is one further step that I think is important”, the lady added. Brian braced himself. They had reduced him to a helpless incontinent little baby girl. What more could they do to him?
“Now that he is resigned to the fact that he will always be kept in nappies and dressed in pretty baby dresses we need to help him to actually love being kept this way.” Brian stopped nursing the soother for a moment in surprise. Love being kept this way? He would never love being kept in nappies and baby dresses no matter what they did. But his mother was interested in the proposition.
“We do this by rewarding him for acting like a happy little baby girl and punishing him for any behaviour that falls short of this”, the lady explained. Brian appeared to be extremely distressed at this suggestion. “It’s for your own good”, she told him. “You’re going to be kept like a little baby girl anyway so you might as well enjoy it.”
“I take it he doesn’t like much of the food he is getting at the moment”, she asked his mother. “No. I give him milk-soaked rusks in the morning and pureed vegetables for his main meals. His bottles are either warm milk – although I think he really likes that – or prune juice to keep his system flowing.” Brian grimaced at the mere mention of his diet.
“Yes, well you should reward him with lollipops or ice-cream when he acts like a good baby girl and punish him with cod liver oil if he doesn’t. Bring him out in public and make him skip along happily. Tell him he has to show off his pretty dresses and frilly panties to everyone you meet and act like he loves them.” Brian couldn’t believe that his situation was about to deteriorate even further. It was bad enough that people knew he was being kept in nappies and baby dresses but now he had to convince them that he loved it!
“There are more severe punishments that you can consider but I’m sure it won’t come to that”, the lady continued. Both Brian and his mother were naturally curious and it showed. “Enemas and butt plugs”, she explained. There was a puzzled look on Brian’s face. “An enema is where your Mummy will insert a tube into your bottom and flush warm soapy water into your bowels to clean you out thoroughly.” Brian was horrified. That sounded pretty grim. “And a butt plug is a rubber plug that can be inserted into your bottom to stop you from pooing. It’s very uncomfortable.” Brian didn’t doubt her for a moment.
“You can ring me at any time and we can supply you with the necessary equipment but I’m sure we won’t need to. Will we?” she asked smiling down at Brian. He was stunned. “Will we?” she persisted. Brian shook his head judiciously.
“Now does Babykins love his dollies?” Brian looked down at the dollies around him. “Hmmm? Does Babykins want a lollipop or cod liver oil?” Brian picked up a dolly. “That’s a good Babykins, now do we love our dolly?” Brian hugged the dolly. “Very good. Now show Mummy your pretty frilly panties?” Brian wanted to cry but he rolled over on his front and stuck his thickly nappied bottom in the air. “Beautiful.”
Brian sat down again. “Does Babykins love his pink tights?” Brian hesitated. “No? Mummy do you have that bottle of cod liver oil?” Brian forced a smile and nodded desperately.
“And finally”, she reached over and took the soother from his mouth. “Does Babykins love his soother?” Brian frowned and reached out for the soother. The lady smiled and said “or maybe you would prefer a lollipop” and she produced one from her bag. Brian smiled broadly (and this one was genuine) and let her pop the lollipop in his mouth. “Nice?” Brian clapped his mittens together. “Very good!”
“You see what you need to do?” she asked his mother. “In a few days everyone will be convinced that he is delighted to be a baby girl and will never want to be any other way.” Brian didn’t really hear that, he was still enjoying the lollipop.
-
It only took a few days to have Brian acting like a happy little baby girl. He was clearly now resigned to his fate. He fully realised that he was totally at his mother’s mercy and that it was in his interest to do what he was told. She only had to resort to the castor oil twice and on one occasion picked up the phone threatening to ask the psychiatrist to send over a butt plug.
Sarah brought Brian around her friends’ houses. Mrs. Campbell opened her front door to find Brian in his pink baby dress and Sarah holding his reins. “Hello Sarah”, she said, “how’s your baby brother?” Brian smiled and curtsied, lifting his petticoats daintily to show off all of his frilly panties. Mrs. Campbell gave a surprised laugh. “That’s his favourite baby dress”, Sarah said. Brian twirled around and his petticoats whirled around him.
“Come on in”, Mrs. Campbell said. Brian skipped in through the door leaving her speechless at his seemingly happy state. “You play on the carpet there Babykins”, Sarah said. Brian went down on his hands and knees and crawled across the carpet with his thickly nappied bottom waving in the air.
He turned and sat down. He took his dolly and hugged her tightly before rocking her in his arms. All the time he nursed his soother absent mindedly. Mrs. Campbell couldn’t believe her eyes. “He seems to be the complete happy little baby girl now”. Brian fought back the tears and continued smiling. “Yes. Mummy found an old pair of his trousers in the attic this morning and she asked him if he’d like to wear them but he shook his head and pointed at his pink baby dress.” There was no point in Brian trying to deny this complete fabrication. He seemingly contentedly sat his dolly on the floor beside him.
“I thought it was too hot for him to wear his tights today but he practically threw a tantrum until Mummy let him wear them.” Mrs. Campbell laughed. Brian had given up imagining what he would do to his sister if he ever got out of this because he was never going to get out. He would just have to take it all.
Once she had rounded up her friends and shown Brian off to their mothers, she brought him to the shops. In the newsagents he ignored all the people laughing at him and skipped over to the lollipop jar. He gave Sarah an angelic look and lifted his petticoats daintily again so that everyone in the shop could appreciate the fluffy trim and the lace on his panties. “OK! OK!”, she said, “you can have one lollipop”. Brian jumped up and down and clapped hands.
Down in the park Sarah took off his harness and let him sit on the merry-go-round and told the other children not to turn it too quickly for him. His petticoats fluttered around him as he tried to hold on to the bar which was difficult because of his mittens.
After a few minutes he groaned through his soother to be let off. The children stopped it turning and Brian went over to his sister. He pointed at his nappy. “Has Babykins had an accent?” He nodded without any sign of embarrassment although inside he was mortified. The children all tittered. “Number 1?” Sarah asked. He nodded again to more sniggering. “OK. I’ll take you home in a few minutes”, she told him and continued her conversation with a friend. Brian was furious that she was leaving him in a soggy nappy, which she did regularly, but he went back to the merry-go-round without showing any sign of annoyance.
After another ten minutes Sarah called him over. He came across expecting her to put his harness back on. But to his consternation she pulled down his panties. All the children stopped to watch. Sarah felt around the tops of his legs to check if his tights were damp. “You’ll be fine for another while”, she told him as she pulled up his panties again and returned to her conversation. Brian went back to the children trying to ignore their great amusement at his being kept in a wet nappy for so long.
When Sarah finally brought him home she took her time and went the long way around the park. All the girls gathered around as her mother started to change Brian. She removed his bonnet before pulling the dress over his head. Brian had to let go of the soother which was attached to his dress with a ribbon.
He lay back on the changing table watching anxiously as Sarah untied his soother from the dress. When she brought it over to him he leaned towards her and took the soother gratefully in his mouth and nursed it happily again.
His mother took off his shoes and pulled down his frilly panties. She tut-tutted at a small damp patch on his pink tights and pulled them down. She peeled off the wet plastic pants and unpinned his saturated nappy.
She wiped him down at the front and told him to turn over. When she had wiped his bottom he felt her rubbing a spot. “I think you’re getting nappy rash”, she told him. Brian looked up in surprise. Sarah was standing beside him and had an evil grin on her face. “You bold baby – you mustn’t be telling us when you have a wet nappy”, his mother scolded him. He glared at Sarah but she looked at him defiantly knowing there was nothing he could do.
“Where is that nappy rash cream?” his mother wondered. She walked out of the room leaving him lying naked on the changing table in front of all the girls. They stepped forward and examined the nappy rash.
His mother found the cream and applied it to the spot before putting his clean nappy and plastic pants on. “Is there another pair of pink tights there Sarah?” his mother asked. Brian looked over hoping that he might be spared that humiliation at least. Sarah opened a drawer and shouted back “there’s at least half a dozen pairs here” as she held up one of them. Brian sighed and flopped back on the changing table as his mother rolled up the legs of his tights.
When he was dressed again in his pink baby dress, his mother brought him to the high-chair and strapped him in. She came over with the bottle of caster oil and a large spoon. Brian whimpered through his soother when he saw it. “You’ll have to learn to tell us when your nappy is wet”, his mother told him.
She removed his soother, poured a full spoon and held it up in front of his mouth. Brian looked at Sarah and his lower lip quivered. “Open!” his mother instructed him. Tears rolled down his face as he opened his mouth reluctantly. His mother inserted the spoon and he braced himself as his closed his mouth over it. She withdrew the spoon and he shuddered. Sarah poured out glasses of lemonade for her friends as her brother was led spluttering to his play-pen.
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