Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Menu => Active Sissy Stories => Topic started by: Sandra B on October 25, 2020, 06:17:06 PM
-
1.
I’ve never told anyone how it started. It was last autumn, two weeks before Halloween. I and my best friend Alice were discussing what we should wear to school that year. We could dress up as anyone or anything we wanted – “within reason”, our teacher, Mrs Davidson, said. I’m Elizabeth. Alice and I had known each other since we were five, when we started at primary school, and next year we would be in secondary. There, things are a bit different on Halloween. Instead of dressing up in the daytime, all the kids go to a big party at school in the evening wearing their costumes. We knew that because we both had brothers in their second year there – St. Mark’s Academy. My brother Douglas was best friends with Alice’s brother Donald, which should have meant we could all go round together, but of course, being boys and a couple of years older than us, they preferred to pretend we were aliens with some horrid disease! So we did our bit to annoy them when we could, too.
This day we were at Alice’s house. The boys were in the garden fighting with cricket stumps. Not really fighting, of course. Just showing off how dangerous they were – and how childish. They had a lair in the cellar where we weren’t allowed, so we decided, while they were occupied outside, we’d take it over for a while. Alice’s mum was busy in the kitchen, and her big sister Margaret was out, so we opened the door as softly as we could and crept down the steps. It wasn’t very light – there were two dirty oblong windows high up, which looked out on the garden at ground level. One half of the room as piled high with old furniture, carpets, and stuff. The other was the boys’ sort of private clubhouse. There was a table, two old armchairs, a table lamp, a candle in a bottle, a few boxes, and Donald’s laptop. There were posters stuck all over the walls, most connected with computer games – which we’re not interested in – and featuring a suspiciously large number of super heroines with large breasts. Alice shook her head in disgust.
“Boys! What is their problem? Is that all they think about?”
She picked up a black felt-tip and drew a moustache on one.
“There. That should cool their interest a bit.”
But it was a great lair. We did a bit of snooping. The laptop was passworded, but at the bottom of one of the boxes I found some ‘adult’ magazines.
“Ooh, look Alice,” I said, “I bet your mum doesn’t know he’s got these stashed away here.”
“She probably suspects,” she replied, “but she’s too discreet to go searching through his stuff. Not like us,” she added, with a giggle.
We were just about to search the other boxes, when to our alarm we heard the boys’ voices outside the door. We had to hide, and quick. We dived behind the furniture. There was an old desk with a carpet laid on top of it, hanging down the front. We got under it, and behind the carpet, just in time. They came clattering down the stairs.
“Where is it?” Douglas was saying.
“Right here.” Donald delved into one of the boxes and pulled out a magazine. We peeped round the edge of the carpet, expecting to see something naughty, but it was only a computer magazine.
“Boring!” Alice whispered in my ear. But it wasn’t that simple.
“Good hiding place,” said Douglas. “So much for their parental controls. Did you use all the money?”
“Yeah. He wanted the ten quid. But it’ll be worth it. Did your mum notice you’d nicked a fiver?”
“Nah. Yours?”
“Course not. She’s not that careful.”
“Cool. So we can always get a bit more if we want.”
“Sure. Anyway, look at this.” He held up a silver dvd. “It’s lesbos, just like we asked for.”
“Yeah? That’s nang! Did you lock the door?”
“Course.”
Donald opened his laptop, connected something to it, and slid in the dvd. The boys stood back. It started to play. I could just get a sidelong view. There were two ladies. They were talking and laughing in a language I didn’t recognise, over some cheesy background music. I could see bodies moving about, and hear heavy breathing, but not much else. But the boys were clearly impressed. Douglas's eyes were popping out.
“Cor! I’m gonna borrow it tonight, right?”
“No. It’s me first, cos I went an’ got it, innit?”
“Look at ‘er tits…”
I wanted to see what developed. But Alice was furious, and before I could stop her she had burst out of our hiding place.
“Donald! You disgusting thief! I’m telling mummy, right now! Oh, are you in big trouble! You too, Douglas.”
“Alice! Wait a minute!” I shouted. “Douglas is my brother. You can’t tell on him too.”
“I have to. They’re both in it. You heard what they said. They stole money from our mums! And bought a horrible video.”
I looked at the boys. They were horrified and frightened. Donald started stammering.
“Alice. Please! Wait a minute. We didn’t mean… I-I mean, we just borrowed the money. W-we were going to pay in b-back. And if you tell mummy….”
“Yes? What? You’ll be grounded forever. Serve you right. Maybe she’ll report you to the police and you’ll go to jail. How would you like that?”
“Liz,” pleaded Douglas, “if you tell on us we’ll be finished. They may not allow us to see each other again. And mum…the video…”
“You should have thought of that before,” said Alice, determinedly. But I was thinking fast.
“Wait a bit, Alice,” I said.
“Why?”
“Let’s have a talk. Come over here. Boys, take that video out and put it back in the box.”
“Liz…” Douglas whined.
“Don’t say anything till I speak to you. Right?”
They nodded, glumly. I took Alice over to the foot of the stairs.
“Listen. If we tell on them, and they’re not allowed to see each other any more, what’s going to happen to us? It’s going to make our lives more difficult too.”
“Maybe…”
“It will! We definitely won’t get to go to each other’s houses so often. Plus, our mums are going to be really angry about the money, and everyone’s going to be really pissed off. My dad… I don’t know what he might say.”
“But they stole…”
“Yeah, but I think they were just trying to impress each other how daring they were. Let’s give them a break.”
“What, do nothing?”
“No. Not do nothing. Don’t you see? This way, we’ve got them in our power. They’ll do anything for us not to tell. We can use this….”
Alice frowned. “Do you reckon?”
“Watch this.” I turned to the boys. “Boys? We may be prepared to keep your secret. May… So don’t look so relieved. There’ll be conditions. First, you’ll have to return the money. Second, we get custody of the dvd. Third…and this is the most important thing…you’ll have to promise to do exactly what we say. Without argument.” I looked from one to the other. “Well?”
They were pathetically grateful and eager to please.
“Sure, Liz, anything, anything at all,” burbled my brother. Donald put on his saddest, most repentant face.
“Thank you, thank you, we’ll be really good, and I’ll pay my mum back out of my pocket money…”
“Me too,” added Douglas. “We were going to anyway, weren’t we, Don?”
“Yeah, course.”
I looked at Alice. Her frown had faded. She nodded. “Good thinking, Liz.”
“All right, enough,” I said to the boys. “Now, to make sure, you’re each going to write a full confession. How you planned it, where you got it, how you stole the money, everything. So get started.”
We gave them pens and pads. We made sure they incriminated themselves fully. Our plan was developing. Alice went upstairs.
“Where’s she going?” asked Donald, tremulously.
“You’ll see. Nothing to worry about.”
She came back with Margaret, who had just got home. She had also got a big envelope. The boys looked scared.
“What’s going on?” said Margaret, puzzled.
“Nothing. The boys have just written statements. We want you to witness their signatures, that’s all. You don’t have to read the statements.”
“Okay…if you say so.”
“Yes please, Margaret.”
“All right,” she grinned. “I won’t ask any questions. Where do I sign?”
We gave her the statements – each two pages long – and folded them so she couldn’t see what they were about. Then the boys, Donald first and then Douglas, signed them, and Margaret countersigned and dated them. Then we put them in the envelope with the dvd, and asked Margaret to keep it safe. She laughed.
“I don’t know what’s going on…some sort of game?” But when she looked at the boys’ faces, she knew it was more serious than that. I thought I’d better explain.
“Margaret, the boys have agreed to do everything we tell them. Everything.”
“Really?” She looked astonished. “Is that true, boys?”
They nodded shamefacedly.
“Well that’ll make a change,” she laughed. But I could see she knew they had done something bad.
“If they don’t,” said Alice, “then I will tell you, and you must straight away give the envelope to mummy.”
“Okay… I think I can manage that. But don’t hurt them, will you?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, Mags. We’re going to look after them just like our little pets, aren’t we, Liz?”
“Yes. Like our little puppies…” I replied.
-
Perhaps I'm just braver than I thought, but it's not so scary so far! A good start all the same
-
Sandra B, What a scenario you have painted here. The boys thought they were being smart when they stole the money for the DVD. Little did they know that they were being watched by their sisters. Now, they have agreed to do whatever the girls say. If I were the boys, I would be very afraid right now. Girls can be very devious when they have their prey caught in their web. Great beginning. I can't wait for more.
-
2.
The name stuck. For the remainder of that Saturday the boys and us went our separate ways. We heard them playing outside, apparently as carefree as before. We retired to Alice’s bedroom to formulate our plans and consider our next move. It was a great feeling. After all the ridicule, after all the snide remarks, after all the disdain, we had them in the palms of our hands – even if they didn’t yet fully appreciate the fact. Alice looked out of the window at them playing on the lawn.
“Look at them. Our little puppies. Blissful ignorance. They should be scared…very scared.”
“They will be.”
“Yes. And we should waste no time. My folks are out tomorrow, but Margaret will be here all day. Maybe we should try that thing you suggested? But if we’re going to, we need to get Mags in on the act.”
“Will she?”
“Dunno. Let’s ask.”
We found her in her room. On the phone to one of her friends, as usual. She was laughing, telling her about what had transpired earlier.
“Hey, sis,” whispered Alice, “please don’t tell everyone….”
“Catty, gotta go. See you tomorrow then? Okay. Bye.” She turned to us. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t giving her any details. But it was so funny to see those boys suddenly all quiet and submissive. Can’t you tell me what it was all about?”
We looked at each other.
“I swear I won’t breathe a word to anyone. Whatever it is. I’m with you on this. I know they haven’t been that nice to you two over the past few years. They really need a little mild correction.”
Margaret could be trusted, we knew that. She’d been a good friend to us. Alice looked at me again, then spoke.
“Mags, do you promise? We don’t want to get them in trouble or anything. We just want a bit of fun.”
Margaret raised her right hand. “Promise.”
“Okay then…. Liz, do you want to explain?”
I told her everything. She evinced some annoyance when she heard about them stealing the money. But towards the end she began to smile. I guessed she was beginning to realise the possibilities.
“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to anyone. So what’s the plan?”
“Well, we’ve been thinking,” said Alice, emboldened. “At first we thought about Halloween, and their school party. We were sort of wondering if we could find some…some interesting costumes for them to wear. But this morning we had an idea for tomorrow….”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what you’ll think of this…. Liz?”
I hesitated. “Well, when we were down in the cellar we noticed something interesting…. Rolled up in the corner in a big plastic bag there’s an old-fashioned rug…a white sheepskin rug, like they used to put babies on to be photographed in the old days.”
Margaret’s face was a picture. Her jaw dropped and she laughed out loud. “Are you suggesting…?”
“We wondered if it would be….”
“Brilliant! Oh, yes. Perfect!” With an effort, she reined back her enthusiasm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so…. You know, I don’t bear them any malice. But I can’t resist the idea.”
We looked at each other with relief. “We didn’t know how you’d react,” I said.
“Well now you know,” she said with a laugh. “Honestly, it’ll make them realise the seriousness of their position. Let’s do it. I’ll take responsibility, if it ever comes to it.”
So it was that the next morning the three of us retrieved the rug and spread it out on the living-room floor.
“It’s like new,” said Margaret. “Never been used. I don’t even know where it came from. So how are we going to do this?”
“Well,” I said, “this looks like the perfect place. Nice wooden floor, and if we put it in front of the fireplace…”
“The classic scenario,” murmured Margaret, thoughtfully.
“Hm. I was thinking of the lawn, myself,” said Alice. “It’s such a nice day.”
“Why not both?” Margaret smiled. “We’ve got all day. Nothing else to do.”
Alice’s parents left at nine. The boys didn’t emerge till ten. We let them have breakfast. They could see we had plans from our smug grins.
“What you smirkin’ at?” said Donald.
“You’ll see.”
“We’re going to Zak’s after breakfast, anyway.”
“No you’re not,” said Alice, in a determined voice.
“Just watch us,” said Douglas. But I could see he was rattled.
Alice sighed. “When you’ve finished breakfast, this is what you’re going to do. You’re both going to go to Donald’s bedroom and get undressed. Completely. Then, when we say, you’re going to come downstairs again. Naked.”
They stared. “You’re joking,” said Donald. “You’re f***ing joking.”
“Not at all,” said Alice. “And please don’t swear. You know you’ve already got into trouble because of that.”
“That’s cos I swore at mummy. I can swear at you all I want.”
“Not any more. Things have changed, and the sooner you understand that – both of you - the better.”
“We’re not doin’ it. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Oh yes you are.” Margaret had appeared at the door. “That’s the deal, isn’t it? You do what the girls tell you to. Or I give your mother the envelope. You agreed.”
“Come on, sis! We didn’t agree to anything like that.”
“Yes you did,” said Alice. “Everything. Anything.”
“Mags,” he pleaded, “you wouldn’t let them…”
“I heard what you did.”
“You told her? You snitches!”
“You’ve been let off the consequences – serious consequences – on condition you obey the girls. You have no choice. I’m right behind them. So get upstairs now and do what you’re told. Or you may find those little bare bottoms getting a spanking as well as an airing!”
-
3.
After they had disappeared upstairs, we arranged the props. We spread the rug in front of the fireplace. Margaret was great. She had found an old baby bottle, a pacifier, and a pot of cold cream, and positioned them to one side of the rug, roughly in front of where the boys’ knees would be. She set up her phone on a stand on the table. Her phone had a very good camera. We discussed poses. Then we called the boys down.
They filed reluctantly into the room, each with a towel wrapped around his nether regions, each with a very red face. Alice spluttered with laughter. Margaret smiled. I stared. What fun this was going to be! Douglas noticed the rug. Realisation slowly dawned. He nudged his friend, keeping a tight hold on his towel. Donald followed his gaze.
“No!”
“Yes,” said Margaret calmly. “Who’s going first? Girls?”
“Douglas,” I said. “Doug? Please lie on the rug. Face down, don’t worry,” I added, as I saw panic rising in his eyes. “Now, please!”
Douglas was the weaker of the two, so I thought it best he should go first. Once he was in position I let Alice remove the towel. It would be more humiliating than if I did it. “And I’ll do Donald,” I whispered.
So there he was, naked and blushing, the picture of embarrassment. He didn’t look much older than a baby, I thought. He had a bit of a babyface anyway, and with his fair hair, freckles, and big frightened eyes – and his cute little bare butt, of course – he made a delightful picture. Margaret retired to the table to adjust the camera, and started taking pictures.
“Douglas, come on. Look at the camera, please. We don’t want to see the back of your head. That’s better. Smile? Oh, you can’t. Never mind. Relax! Come on, stop tensing your bum. You’re only making it more of a feature. Alice? Could you give him his pacifier? That’s right. Now you can play with it a bit, then pop it in. Good boy. Lizzy? Do you think you could put some milk in his bottle? Wash it out well first, won’t you. Don’t look so startled, Douglas, I’m sure you’re thirsty, aren’t you?”
All this time, Donald was looking on in horror, unable to believe his eyes. So much so, that at one point he somehow let go of his towel, and had temporarily to double himself up to stay decent. Alice and I got a terrible fit of the giggles. Fortunately Margaret was there to take charge.
Then it was Donald’s turn. He got himself into an even worse state. He was such a macho boy, I believe it was an even greater ordeal for him than for Douglas. But he had no choice, and had to jump through all Margaret’s hoops just like his friend. His face was a picture. He’s quite dark-complexioned, and his blushes turned his face a deep shade of scarlet. He was trembling slightly when I passed him the bottle, and somehow he managed to squirt milk into his face. We all burst out laughing. Even Douglas smiled.
He was coming to the end of his session, when Alice whispered to me, “I’ve got an idea!” She took her sister aside, and they had a short conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I soon found out. Margaret came over.
“Lizzy? Alice had suggested we should give the boys a little skin care. Would you like to put a little cream on Donald’s bottom? I think he would appreciate it.”
I was shocked, I admit. “Really? Would he let me?”
“He won’t have a choice. Do you know how to do it?”
“I think so…”
“Then Alice will do Douglas. I’ll video it so you can both check your techniques afterwards. Okay?”
“Okay. I will.”
For Donald, it was the last straw. I thought he was going to cry. He fidgeted a lot at first, and kept blinking and whining. But I smoothed it on so gently that I think in the end it relaxed him, and he actually put his pacifier back in! As a sort of consolation, I guess. Afterwards, when he’d got his towel back on, he stood very still and submissive, looking at his feet, while Douglas had his turn. And when we took them out into the garden they went very quietly. They lay on the rug side by side, their little bottoms glistening in the sunlight. We made them hold hands. They didn’t make a sound, and they smiled when instructed, so they looked like real happy little babies. At last, it seemed, they were beginning to fully comprehand their predicament. And we had only just begun!
-
A little bit scarier now, maybe, Andlat?
-
A little bit scarier now, maybe, Andlat?
It's certainly becoming quite the entertaining situation! I'm excited to see what the girls do next to their puppies
-
Sandra B, Those were 2 fantastic chapters. Margaret got involved and the boys are in for it now. The rug and baby items make the boys pictures priceless. Imagine a boy laying naked on a rug like a baby would. That is quite a picture. As I read, I was envisioning the whole scene happening.
-
Margaret says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so…. You know, I don’t bear them any malice." A favorite phrase no matter the exact wording and used often in this genre. Right up there with "for your own good." Definitely a blame-the-victim mentality. Kind of like, "With all due respect..." when the speaker really intends no respect whatsoever. Humiliation is vicious. Physical scars heal but the emotional scars from the girls' treatment will last with the boys forever.
Also love the blackmail trope. If the boys were more mature and willing to take their punishment none of this would be happening. Succ-umbing to the blackmail makes them complicit in their humiliation and embarrassment. No parental punishment could be as bad as the power the boys have given the girls since a parental punishment would be finite, blackmail lasts forever. A very common theme but without it this genre would be bereft of many great stories.
As always, love your writing. Thank you.
-
And thank you for your usual insightful comments, babycakes. I hope the three girls will reflect and be less exploitative after this, even if some readers may wish the opposite.
-
4.
The boys were very subdued that evening. We began to feel a bit sorry for them. They had learned their lesson. They told Margaret they would repay the money at the end of the month, and never steal from their mothers again.
“Or from anyone,” said Margaret. “I’m glad you seem to have seen sense. You can tell your mums you found a fiver on the floor. Something like that. When you’ve returned them, I’ll return your confessions. And your dvd, though I shouldn’t. But I certainly don’t want it.”
“Thanks, Margaret,” they chorused, suddenly brightening up.
Alice and I looked at each other, shocked. It wasn’t fair! They were getting off too lightly. It looked like we’d had our fun, and now things would just be back to how they were before.
Alice’s face fell. “That’s rubbish,” she whispered. “They’re going to be worse than ever now.”
“Yeah,” I said, “smug, too. And they’ll want to get their own back!”
“But…but what about the photos?” added Douglas. “I mean, will you delete them, or…”
“Oh, eventually. But I’m going to hang onto them for the time being. So you need to behave yourselves. And of course, you will have to honour your pact with the girls till at least the end of the month. Or longer, if I’m not satisfied with your conduct.”
“What?” cried Donald. “But we’ve agreed to pay back the money an’ everything…”
Now we were smiling again.
“Did you think you could get away with it that easily? Think yourselves lucky the girls and I didn’t tell your parents. And we won’t. Ever. But the photos… I think they’ll be just as good an incentive for you to be a bit more decent and respectful. Don’t you?”
All their elation had evaporated. They didn’t know what to say. They looked from Margaret to us. Alice folded her arms.
“Don’t look so miserable. If you’re nice to us, we’ll be nice…well, maybe not nice…but we’ll be fair to you.”
“Will you make us be…you know…” asked Douglas, nervously.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Not unless you want…”
“No. No, we don’t!”
“Well, then, we can be friends. We can all play together for a change. We’ll let you play mummies and daddies with us and our dolls, and you can let us play in the cellar whenever we want. Deal?”
Donald looked angry, and as though he was about to say something, but Douglas gave him a nudge with his elbow.
“Yes. Course. That would be fun.”
“And,” said Alice, “we can help each other with our Halloween costumes, can’t we?”
“Okay…” said Donald, suspiciously.
“Mummy’s agreed to contribute towards the cost,” said Margaret, “and I will too, if you guys can find something nice.”
“And my mum will help,” I added.
“Let’s go and look at ideas now,” said Alice, excited. “There’s only two weeks to go.”
We gathered around the computer.
“I heard that last year quite a few boys from your school dressed up as girls for Halloween,” said Alice, innocently.
“No,” said Donald, shortly.
“Yes, Don, they did,” corrected Douglas, naïvely. “Don’t you remember? It was quite a thing. It was when there was all that stuff in the news about boys who wanted to dress as girls. St. Mark’s even gave a special prize for the best one, on top of the usual prizes!”
“You sound very enthusiastic,” returned Donald, sourly. “Maybe you’d like to dress up as a girl yourself.”
Douglas blushed. “N-no, course not,” he stammered. “I just meant…some boys would…”
“You’d make a lovely girl,” said Alice. “You have such delicate features. Suppose you did…. What sort of thing would you like to wear? I mean, a dress? A skirt and top? Look, here’s a very pretty dress….do you like that?”
Poor Douglas didn’t know what to say. I had to cover my mouth and pretend not to laugh. It appeared Alice had hit a sensitive spot. He was pretending not to be interested, but glancing sideways at the screen as she scrolled through a whole spectrum of pretty dresses.
“What colour do you think would suit you? I think maybe a blue? A pale blue? What do you think, Liz?”
“I like mauve. Once Douglas wore a mauve shirt, and he looked so handsome.”
“Mauve… Let’s see. Not much here… All yellows and reds and greens… Let’s look at the dancewear. Oh, yes, that’s better. Hmm… Oh, Liz! Look at this. This is so sweet. I can just see you in that, Douglas.”
Douglas was looking nervously at the screen.
“I…I…don’t know… I don’t think it’s…”
“Well, if you want my opinion...” began Donald.
“We don’t,” said Alice. “Unless you’d like to wear it?”
That shut him up.
“It’s perfect. Don’t you agree, Liz?”
“Absolutely. You could easily win first prize. No-one will think to wear a dance outfit. They’ll all be in dresses, I bet. You’d really stand out.”
“Would I…?”
“Course," said Alice. “Let's find your size… Yes, I think if we order the girl’s age thirteen, that should be about right. And we need tights to go with it… And what about shoes, and some accessories..?”
Donald put his head in his hands. Douglas sat there, wide-eyed but not actually raising any objections. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was clearly not totally averse to the idea. Really, I loved him a lot. He was so sweet underneath the bravado.
“Margaret?” called Alice. “We’ve found a great costume for Douglas. Could be borrow your card?”
Having disposed of Douglas’s costume, we turned our attention to Donald.
“What’s your best colour, Donald?” I asked.
“I don’t have a “best colour”. And I’m not wearing any girl’s stuff.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just not. I’m not a sissy.”
“Why do you think it makes you a sissy?”
“Yeah, why?” echoed Alice. “Unless your afraid you are one.”
“Shut up! I’m not dressing up as a girl. That’s an end of it!”
“Why are you so sensitive about it?” I persisted. “Loads of boys dress up as females at Halloween.”
“Well I don’t! I’ll wear anything, but not girls’ clothes.”
“Anything?”
“Yes! I said so, didn’t I?”
“So the girls can choose your costume, as long as it’s not girly stuff,” said Margaret, “is that right?”
“Yes! Yes! Now leave me alone!” And he kicked back his chair and stormed out of the room. We looked at each other. “Right,” said Alice, nodding her head. “Right. Anything…”
-
Oh, my! I just assumed they'd be wearing the same costume/outfit, but this is far better, especially with the cliffhanger
-
Oh my! I am so excited to see Douglas in his cute little dance costume and pretty tights. I hope there are lots of sparkles and frills! I think he is excited too.
The scariest part of this story so far is that Donald might not get to wear a girl's outfit too. The horror!
-
5.
It wasn’t easy. Getting just what we needed. But with Margaret’s help we located everything. The only prohibition was girls’ clothes. Donald had made that very clear. But that didn’t leave us much choice. So no dresses, no skirts, no frills, no pink. But if he had to be male, the options were very limited. He had painted himself into a corner, a corner reserved only for superheroes and baby boys. And despite several suggestions in the former category from Douglas, we had no intention of adopting that course.
Donald himself soon became curious as to what was being acquired on his behalf, but we would only answer his questions with “you’ll have to wait and see – don’t worry, we’re sure you’ll like it”. He wasn’t so sure, in fact he was decidedly suspicious, but even Douglas couldn’t enlighten him. A couple of days before the party, he asked Margaret whether we were intending to make him parade in the streets in his costume.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be going by car. And I’ve arranged that you can change at the school. Several other children will be doing the same. Is that acceptable?”
“S’pose so. Why don’t you just tell me what you’ve got me? You sure it isn’t something girly?”
“I swear it isn’t, darling. You’ll love it. It’s a shame you didn’t want a girl’s costume, though. Look how pleased Douglas is with his.”
“Is he? Just cos he didn’t object don’t mean he’s pleased. He looks pretty soppy if you ask me.”
Douglas he got a beautiful little plain mauve tutu dance dress, with a frilled bodice and shoulder straps. We’d also bought him white tights and silver ballet pumps to go with it, and a pair of silver clip-ons if he wanted them. Very simple, but he looked so pretty, and Alice and I made such a fuss of him, he was really beginning to look forward to showing it off.
Alice and I didn’t care much what we wore on Halloween. We were much more interested in the St. Mark’s party in the evening. Mum bought me some green woolly tights and we looked out my old green leotard, and with a few cabbage leaves attached to a belt I transformed myself into a pixie. Alice didn’t bother to make an effort at all. She simply wore her riding clothes, including her hat, which was funny. We ran straight back to Alice’s after school, and her mum drove the lot of us to St. Mark’s. Margaret had brought a hold-all with the costumes in it. It emitted a faint tinkling sound when moved, which the boys thought was odd.
“Was that a bell? What’s in there?” demanded Donald.
“Probably just Douglas’s earrings,” said Margaret, dismissively. “They’re in a little metal box.”
“Earrings? You wearin’ earrings, Doug?”
“Maybe…”
“I think we’d better keep clear of each other tonight. I’m not goin’ round with a bloke in a tutu wearin’ earrings!”
Alice looked at me and winked.
One of the teachers showed us to an empty classroom where we could change. The glass in the door was papered over, and we were on the second floor, overlooking the playground. We could see kids arriving at the main hall, and hear the sound of music from within. Margaret got out Douglas’s costume first of all, and he went into the far corner to change. Then it was Donald’s turn. Of course he was full of suspicion, and that turned into certainty with the first item Margaret produced; a baby harness in pale blue vinyl, with reins! The breastplate was trimmed with a row of tiny silver bells, and bore the words, “I’m Thirsty!”, in yellow letters.
“No. No way. That’s it. I’m leaving.”
He headed for the door.
“Oh, Donald. Before you go…”
“What?”
“Your friends will miss you if you’re not here.”
“I don’t care.”
“So I brought a few photos of you to hand out, to make them feel better.” She opened an envelope and thumbed through them.
“Like to see them? Here, this is a nice one.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t I? Well, no, maybe I’d let the girls do it. There’s quite a few. Look at you in this one. So cute!”
He actually stamped his foot in annoyance. But he changed his mind about leaving, and Margaret was soon getting him dressed.
True to his wishes, blue was the dominant colour. In fact, every part of his costume was blue of one shade or another. After he’d taken off his shirt, and put on a cute little pale blue stretch cotton vest, with short sleeves, we buckled him into his harness. It was quite an elaborate affair. Straps from the top and bottom of the breastplate buckled behind his back, the lower set with rings for the reins, shoulder straps kept it from slipping down, and further pairs of straps with loops on the ends hung down front and back. Margaret threaded a blue leather belt through the loops, and slipped on a couple of other attachments before buckling it up at the waist.
“What are those for,” asked Donald, grumpily.
“You’ll see, dear. Now, give me your hands.”
“My hands?”
“Yes. Now, please.”
From her bag she pulled out a pair of blue leather mittens with wrist straps. Each little strap also boasted three tiny silver bells. She made him close his fists, pushed them into the mitts, and buckled them up tightly.
“There. Now you won’t be able to play with anything you’re not supposed to.”
“This isn’t fair, Mags! This is far worse than what Douglas is wearing!”
“But you didn’t want that, did you? This is the alternative. Come on, smile. You’ll look great!”
She went back to the bag.
“No! Please!”
“It’s just a pull-up. Your size too. It is rather bulky, isn’t it. But that’s the idea. Hurry, please. Off with those jeans and pants.”
“It’s got blue teddies on it!”
“Well you’d have cause to complain if they were pink! Now come on. Stop prevaricating!”
I think that was the point he knew his protests were useless. He was soon in his nice thick pull-up, and stepping into a pair of blue-tinged plastic pants, transparent enough to show off the blue teddies underneath. Alice and I were ecstatic. Margaret made him sit down while she helped him on with a pair of short blue wellies with yellow teddy faces on the feet. Then she completed his costume with his accessories. A full bottle of milk slipped into the bottle-holder on his belt. Next a rattle, and a spare pacifier on a blue ribbon. Finally she buckled on a soft leather collar with a ring at the front, from which depended his main pacifier, also on a short length of ribbon.
“There. I don’t think we’ve forgotten anything. Have we girls?”
“No,” said Alice. “Donald, you look pretty amazing.”
“Yes, you do,” I added. “You’re going to be a sensation at the party. You’re all blue!”
“Except his cheeks,” murmured Alice.
-
Oh, the boys have gotten themselves into quite the pretty predicament, but I think they'll be very popular indeed at the party.
-
6.
Margaret stood Donald by the blackboard and took a quick snap.
“Here, you can see how cute you look…”
He stared at the picture on her phone. His reaction was not quite what we’d expected. I sort of thought he’d be pleading with us not to make him go to the party. But somehow his old bravado reasserted itself.
“No-one better make fun of me. Or I’m gonna punch them with my mitts!”
I was impressed. I suppose he knew there was no escape, and had decided to make the most of it.
“If anyone asks, you have to tell them… I’m Superbaby, all right?”
“Superbaby?” laughed Alice. “Who’s he?”
“I’m Superbaby, idiot. I’m the next big superhero, see?”
“Do you really think they’ll believe that, Donald?”
“I hope so. It’s my only chance of getting through this with my reputation not totally destroyed.”
It seemed like a long shot, but we admired him for his nerve.
“Come on, then, Superbaby. Let’s get your reins on,” said Margaret, clipping them to his back. We’d been expecting to have to drag him to the hall, but once through the door he went forward bravely, bells jingling, while we kept hold of the reins. Douglas and Margaret brought up the rear.
We entered the hall through one of the side doors, diagonally opposite the main entrance. Most heads were turned away from us, watching the new arrivals as they dribbled in one by one. There were all the usual costumes you see at these events, as well as a whole gaggle of frothy dresses and bright red lipstick poorly disguising their male wearers, who were swaggering about or talking in loud voices. Alice gave a derisive laugh.
“They look like a bunch of tarts,” she whispered. “How on earth can they think that’s feminine or attractive?”
“They’re not trying to be feminine,” I replied. “In fact they’re so afraid of being thought effeminate, they’re acting even more macho than usual!”
“They make me sick, Liz. They get to dress up as girls – and I bet a lot of them really get off on that – but at the same time they get to take the piss out of us.”
“You’re right. Now look at Douglas. No-one could be more different.”
Douglas was sticking close to us, looking very shy. But as we moved through the partygoers, heads turned at the sound of Donald’s bells, and there was gasps and squeals of amazement from the girls, and undisguised derision from the boys. I caught some of the comments.
“Oh my god, look – he so sweet! He looks like a real girl!” squealed one of the older girls.
“He looks amazing. His name is Douglas, isn’t it? But look at his friend!” said her companion.
“That’s that Donald kid. How has he got the nerve…? I mean, what boy would dare appear here as a baby? Plastic pants and all!”
“Yeah, well if anyone would, it’s him. He got a bit of a reputation for showing off, I hear.”
“He doesn’t look a very happy baby, does he…?” said the companion.
“Do you think he’s here of his own free will?” the first girl whispered.
I decided that needed an answer.
“Oh, absolutely! He loves dressing up as a baby. It’s just that this is the first time he’s been out in public.”
“Shut up, Liz!”
“Now, now, Donald, behave yourself please, or I’ll take away your bottle.”
This provoked a petulant stamp of the foot from Donald, and a gale of laughter from those around us. The reaction to Douglas, however, was more one of fascination. A couple of the girls in his year came over, desperate to get a closer look.
“Douglas! You look fantastic! You could be a girl – I’m serious. You should win the cross-dressing prize if the judges have any sense.”
“You look really lovely. I didn’t realise… I mean, is that something you actually do…? I can’t believe you haven’t dressed up like this before…”
“I haven’t, but…”
“You like it, right? I mean, you could easily join the girls’ dance class. You’d be great!”
“Well, I’m not sure…you know. I’m not sure if I like it…though it feels nice to wear girls’ stuff, much nicer than my normal clothes..”
“I love that little tutu,” one of them added, touching the delicate fabric. “You know, me and my friends have loads of outfits that would fit you, if you, you know, if you felt like coming round to my house one day. I mean, only if you’d like to…”
Douglas smiled at them. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.” He looked at me, uncertainly.
“You should, Douggie, if you’d like to. I’m sure your friends would look after you…”
“Oh, we would! We have so many dresses, don’t we Alex? Too many to wear. You could see if you liked any of them. You could borrow…you could have some of them if you wanted…”
Douglas was looking pleased. I think he was flattered, but also I think he would have liked more friends amongst the girls at school. Sometimes he seemed too gentle and sensitive to be hanging around with the boys all the time, but up to this point he’d always conformed to the convention that at his age the children tended to stick with their own sex.
Margaret had bumped in to an old friend, and they had decided to slip out for a quick drink.
“Girls? We won’t be long. Everything seems to be under control here – at least with Douglas.”
“Yeah, go, sis,” said Alice. “I think we can look after a little girl and a baby for an hour!”
-
7.
I could see Donald was fed up. His friend was getting all the interest and attention, whilst he was being ridiculed. Alice gave him some advice.
“Donald, listen. Stop pretending to be Superbaby, and start behaving like a normal baby, if you want that sort of attention. Don’t you know that there’s nothing teenage girls like more than babies?”
He frowned at us, but I could see her words had sunk in. Two of the older girls were pointing at him and laughing. He hesitated for a moment, and then started to fumble with the bottle at his waist. But of course, because of his mittens, he couldn’t pick it up.
“Pauline, look! The little darling wants his bottle! Come on!”
They approached him, smiling reassuringly.
“Does baby want his milkies?”
Donald nodded coyly. They were ecstatic. One of them addressed me.
“Is he yours?”
“Mine and Alice’s.”
“But if you want to borrow him…” said Alice.
“May we? We’d be very nice to him.”
We handed her the reins. They led him over to one of the chairs at the side of the hall, and took it in turns to sit him on their laps and feed him. We followed and watched as they fussed over him. He lay back obediently in their arms, closed his eyes, and fastened his lips on the teat. Soon his cheeks were working steadily, drawing in the milk, which he gulped down greedily. As I watched them, I could see that, despite the fact he was a twelve-year-old boy and not a little baby, both the girls were bubbling over with instinctive maternal affection. Their faces softened, they smiled into his, their lips mimicked the movements of Donald’s, they petted and stroked him. I saw him glance at us out of the corner of one eye, but he didn’t move. He must have been enjoying his new role as much as his custodians.
However, this idyllic state of affairs was about to be disrupted. I became aware that I was not the only observer. Two older boys had appeared alongside me, with imbecile grins on their faces. One was a cowboy, the other a gangster.
“Is that…?” began the cowboy.
“Yeah. It’s that Donald kid! ‘E’s all done up like a baby! An’ bein’ fed, too! What a total sissy!”
“’Is best mate’s over there wiv that bunch of girls, an’ ‘e’s dressed up as a ballerina!”
“What a pair of pansies! Oi! You! Yeah, you. Babies ain’t allowed in ‘ere – this is for teenagers only. It’s time you were in bed.”
“Leave him alone!” said one of the girls. “His costume’s more original than yours, anyway. And he isn’t ugly like you.”
That just upset them more. “E’s not wanted ‘ere, the little pervert. E’s just using that outfit to cosy up to all the girls!”
He was clearly jealous. The idea made me laugh out loud.
“An’ you can shut up, too. What you two doin’ ‘ere, anyway? This is supposed to be for St. Mark’s kids only, not little pixies an’ stuff! Great, innit Mike? Babies an’ toddlers!”
“Yeah. Go back to yer own school. This party’s for adults.”
Alice was about to reply, when Donald slipped off the lap upon which he had been languishing, and confronted the boys.
“Mind your own business. Go away and leave my sister and her friend alone, all right?”
They looked at each other. The cowboy drew his gun, and they advanced on Donald. He looked around, but seeing there was no escape, must have decided attack was the best method of defence. He launched himself at them, swinging his little bemittened fists. Though predictable, it wasn’t the best reaction. Cowboy grabbed him, pinning his arms behind him.
“Get ‘is feet, Mike. We’ll frow ‘im out!”
Gangster advanced on Donald from the front. Being temporarily deprived of his fists, Donald resorted to the next best thing, and lashed out with his right boot. It caught Gangster Mike squarely in the crotch. With a moan of pain, he doubled up and went down. Donald then went into reverse. Cowboy stumbled, caught his feet in the reins, and went down in his turn, with Donald on top of him, the back Donald’s head connecting sharply with his nose. Alice and I looked on aghast at this sudden outbreak of violence. Donald scrambled to his feet, and surveyed his fallen adversaries with surprise, the one clutching himself and rolling about, the other looking dazed, with a trickle of blood coming from his nose. The circle of onlookers surrounding this tableau were temporarily shocked into silence. Then Miss Whitehead arrived.
Miss Whitehead, we discovered later, was the school matriarch. She was the longest-serving teacher, with a reputation for “not taking any nonsense”, as she herself put it.
“And what’s going on here?” she boomed. “Well? Someone tell me, please. Who is responsible for” – she looked at the two bodies at her feet – “this…this debacle?”
“It was ‘im, miss…the baby!” groaned Mike the gangster.
“Really. I see. Is that true? It’s Donald, isn’t it?”
“Well…er…I didn’t start it, miss…”
“But you did finish it?”
“Er…”
“Excuse me,” I said, “they attacked him first. He was just defending himself.”
Miss Whitehead allowed herself a wry smile. “Self-defence, eh? Right. Well you two” – she indicated the two boys, who were by now struggling to their feet – “you two can come to my office at nine on Monday morning, and we’ll find out what went on. Right?”
“Yes, miss. But he…”
“No more. And if you get into any more trouble this evening, I’ll have you ejected.” She turned to Donald. “As for you, I think you need to cool off a little. You’re a lot more dangerous than you appear, aren’t you?”
She looked around the hall. “Ah. That’s it. Come with me.”
She led Donald, me and Alice and Douglas following, over to one of the big windows. High up on the wall there was a big brass cleat, for the cables from the window-blinds. Taking Donald’s reins, and standing on a chair, Miss Whitehead looped them over the cleat, and wound them round it a couple of times till they were taught. Donald was securely attached. If he tried to walk away from the wall, the reins would lift his feet off the ground. And with his mittens on, he has no chance of unclipping them.
“You can stay there for the time being, out of harm’s way. It will be a good opportunity for everyone to admire your costume.” She looked at us. “And no-one is to help him under any circ-umstances.”
Alice and I exchanged glances. Suddenly the humour of the situation struck us, and we burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“Shut up!” cried Donald.
-
Sandra B, those were 4 fantastic chapters. I love how the two boys were given the chance to pick their costumes and only helped with his costume. His ballerina outfit was cute. Donald, on the other hand, wouldn't pick his costume so the girls picked it for him. He was not happy with their choice. He did try to make the best of it by saying he was superbaby. I really think the 2 bullies thought he was after he beat them. Great job and I can't wait for more.
-
I've a suspicion that something will happen to extend their punishment and/or the girls' control over them, but what?
-
I've a suspicion that something will happen to extend their punishment and/or the girls' control over them, but what?
Well his mother is probably going to be called for fighting at the school party :)
-
8.
Suspended by his reins, Donald struggled ineffectively. Miss Whitehead’s prediction proved correct. His plight attracted the attention of the other partygoers, who began to form a semicircle around him, just out of range of his boots – but unfortunately not of his invective.
“Go away! Sod off, you idiots! What do you think you’re staring at?”
“A grumpy little baby, strung up like a puppet?” suggested one of the girls, switching her phone camera to video. This made him more angry than ever, and he danced a little dance of frustration, which his audience found most entertaining. He had quickly become the focus of the party, and his erstwhile attackers, positioned at the rear of the group so they couldn’t be accused of incitement, quietly congratulated each other on the outcome of the altercation. Whether or not Miss Whitehead had intended this humiliation I don’t know. She was nowhere to be seen, in any case. Duncan’s language was deteriorating to the point where we were anxious he might incur further sanctions, when Margaret returned.
“What the…? What’s going on? Why is Donald….?”
We explained what had happened, and that we had been told on no account to help him.
“He’s swearing so much,” said Alice, uneasily. “If one of the teacher’s hears…he could be in even worse trouble.”
“Oh dear. That’s Donald, all right. I was afraid something like this might happen. Never mind. I brought something with me in case of this eventuality.”
She delved into her bag and brought out an article whose function we understood at once. A blue pacifier with an oversized teat, and a teddy’s yellow face on the big round boss. But it was mounted on two broad matching leather straps, designed to buckle together. Alice’s eyes widened, and her hand went to her mouth.
“Gosh, Margaret,” she gasped, “I’ve never seen one like that!”
“Probably not. But it should keep him quiet. It has a padlock, but we don’t need to worry about that. In those mittens he can’t do anything.” She rolled the article up in her hand.
“I don’t want him to see what I’m planning to do. Could you hold my bag for me for a minute?”
We took her bag. She pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Donald caught sight of her. His face registered relief.
“Mags! Come and release me, quick. I’m gonna beat the crap out of some of these idiots.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea, sweetie? Didn’t Miss Whitehead put you here for a reason?”
“Miss Whitehead? That old bat? D’you think I care about her? Just get me out, stupid!”
If Margaret had any doubts about what she was about to do, this tirade probably dispelled them. She walked straight up to him, smiled, and thrust the pacifier into his open mouth. By the time he had brought his fists to bear on her stomach, it was buckled firmly in place. He tried to hold onto her, but the leather mittens simply slipped off her body. She stood back and looked at him thoughtfully.
“There, that’s better. Now you can swear as much as you want, and no-one will be able to make out a word. Is it comfortable?”
His cheeks had turned redder than ever.
“Mmm. Mmff!”
“I quite agree, Donald. It’s not fair. But it’s in your own best interests. Enjoy!”
She turned her back and rejoined us. We stared at Donald, gyrating and shaking his head as if trying to dislodge his new appendage. All to no avail. Not only had it muffled his curses, but he now looked twenty times as funny, with the blue pacifier and yellow teddy face where his mouth used to be. The audience were screaming with delight, and the clicks of their cameras had redoubled.
“He’ll be safe there, now. Shall we go and find Douglas, and get some food, before it runs out?”
We located Douglas on the opposite side of the hall, surrounded by a little gaggle of girls.
“Douggie? Want to come get some food?”
“Oh, yes, thanks Margaret.” He said goodbye to his new friends, and went with us to the long table where teachers were handing out food and drinks.
“Donald’s not shouting any more. We could hear him right across the hall.”
“No, Douglas,” said Alice, “he was a bit upset, but now he’s fine. Now, what would you like to eat?”
While we ate, the judges were moving about the hall looking at all the different costumes, one of them making notes on a clipboard. They came and asked Douglas to stand up so they could make a proper assessment. I thought they seemed quite impressed, but of course they were giving nothing away. After they had gone, Alice suggested we should go and check on Donald. But before we could move, we saw two women coming towards us. Miss Whitehead and one of the judges. Miss Whitehead approached Margaret.
“Hello. I’m Veronica Whitehead. This is Madeline Lockett, the head judge for tonight’s competitions. I understand you are in charge of our little recidivist over there? Margaret, is it?”
“Well, yes. I’m his sister. I am looking after him tonight.”
“Margaret, we have a dilemma. Maybe you can help us resolve it. Madeline?”
“We would like to award Donald the prize for the overall winner of the costume competition,” she said. “I mean, he stands out. His costume is perfect, and it’s original. He should get the prize. But there’s a problem.”
Miss Whitehead took over. “It would look unfair to reward him after he was involved in that fracas earlier. The school considers fighting one of the very worst misdemeanours. The two older boys are going to be punished, and the school won’t distinguish between either party in these matters. It takes the view that it takes two to tango, as it were.” She allowed herself the ghost of a smile.
“I see,” replied Margaret. “So…what are you…”
“If he was prepared for his part to do some small penance, as it were, then I think we could justifiably go ahead with the award. But he’d need to agree. We are asking you to secure that agreement.”
“What would he have to do?”
“My idea is,” said Miss Whitehead, “…my idea is, that he should agree to wear his costume to school all next week. That seems to me a suitable punishment for violence. For their part his two assailants will be required to attend dance practice once a week for a month. Do you think he would accept that? The alternative would be something more conventional – suspension perhaps.”
“Or summary execution,” Alice whispered to me under her breath, looking sideways at Miss Whitehead.
For a moment, Margaret was taken aback. Then she laughed out loud. “Really? That would be so…appropriate! Let me talk to him. Can you give me a minute?”
“Of course.”
She was about to leave, but hesitated. “What’s the prize?”
“A cheque for fifty pounds.”
She laughed again. “Great!”
Alice and I followed her over to where Donald was tethered. His aggression had subsided, and his crowd of admirers, exclusively female, had closed in and were patting his cheek, jingling his bells, adjusting his plastic pants, and asking him questions he was unable to answer with his mouth full of pacifier.
“Excuse me girls,” interjected Margaret. “Could I please have a private word with Baby Donald? It’s very important.”
The girls drew back. Margaret leant against the wall, one hand each side of her brother.
“Now, Don, I have to ask you a question. Listen carefully. Are you enjoying wearing your baby costume?”
An emphatic shake of the head.
“I don’t believe you. You seem so content. Now, would you like to be able to wear it to school all next week? Your personal uniform.”
His eyes widened, questioningly.
“You are going to be punished for your part in the fight. You have a choice. Suspension, detention, something like that….or what I have just said.”
The anger in his eyes was enough of a reply.
“Well, it’s a pity. It means you’ll forfeit the best costume award. And the prize. But if that’s your final decision…”
His expression had changed. He was trying to say something. “Take his pacifier off, Margaret,” said Alice. “I think he wants to tell us something.”
“All right. Just for a minute.”
She unbuckled the strap. Donald gasped. He took a deep breath. “What’s the prize?”
“Fifty pounds.”
“I’ll do it! I’ll be a baby all next week! Now let me free!”
-
9.
It was the noisiest, rowdiest award ceremony there ever had been at St. Mark’s. Donald was last onto the stage, the microphone picking up every jingle of his bells, every rustle of his panties. His mittens prevented him receiving the cheque himself, but Alice accompanied him and did the honours. He stammered his thanks to Madeline Lockett, and she thoughtfully apprised the audience of the news that he had generously agreed to stay as Baby Donald for the next school week, information received with screams and whoops of approval. When he took his place on the top of the rostrum, very red-faced but also quite proud, the hall erupted in applause. But we had a double celebration, because Douglas was chosen as the best boy-girl. His elation was unalloyed.
Donald carried off that week with great aplomb. It was made easier for him by the fact he became immensely popular with all the girls, who were continually petting and cuddling him and wanting to come home with him. Which he allowed. It was a watershed in his development. He was a changed character. And he never quite relinquished his baby persona. He stowed his costume away carefully in his bottom drawer, and every now and then would shyly ask if he could add another item or two. I think at first he may have felt a little embarrassed with his sister, because he would more often come to me with his baby problems. And since that time, whenever he’s had a bad day, or sometimes when he’s feeling especially happy, he will dress up in his baby costume and ask me to cuddle and feed him. He likes best of all to be cuddled to sleep, with his pacifier in his mouth. I like it too, I don’t know why. It makes me feel grown-up and protective.
As to my brother, the week following the party he joined the dance class, and thus had the privilege of watching Donald’s attackers make fools of themselves for a month, before they had served out their time. He is very fastidious about his costumes, of which he now has half a dozen, and has started experimenting with girls’ clothes generally, and taking an interest in makeup. He has a whole bunch of girlfriends, and sometimes it’s quite annoying for us having them around, giggling and chattering. Alice and I have come to the realisation that we are the most grown-up of the lot of them. We play with our dolls very seriously, and our best times are when we two are in one house, and all the rest of them are in another. But on the whole we’re grateful that our two brothers are no longer the unpleasant, rude little yobs they used to be.
-
Always enjoy your writing SandraB and "A Scary Story" is no exception. Not a criticism and you had to tie up this short story quickly but surprised Donald was so forgiving. £50 must be a lot of cash for a teen. Certainly he should never trust his sisters again, especially since he was initially defending them and then himself against the bullies. Ditto for distrusting Margaret who decided to further humiliates Donald with the pacifier, ostensibly for his own good. Another blame the victim excuse. Also, don't know why he couldn't escape since he probably could have bitten through the mittens or the ties securing them and gotten free of the cleat holding his reins. Several hours at the party could have been enough time.
As a side comment, the practice of punishing both the attackers and the victims of in-school fracases seems to be universal but completely unjust. Yes, there is the issue of the difficulty determining who initiated the physical contact but it does raise the issue of how badly the victim must be beaten before he/she is considered innocent. There are even cases where the victim didn't defend themselves and they were still treated the same as the attacker. That's no incentive to depend on the school getting it right. Rather, the policy seems to encourage as vigorous a defense as possible, maybe greater than the initial attack, since the victim will be punished for being a victim so why not discourage future attacks and teach the bully a lesson as Donald did. Just the writer's two cents.
-
And equally a pleasure to receive your literary criticism, babycakes. As to the practice of sanctioning both parties to a dispute irrespective of culpability, it is based on a negation of that good principle that it is better a guilty person goes unpunished than an innocent one be punished. Schools seem adept at turning the best rules of conduct upside-down: hence imagination is sacrificed to drudgery, innocence to deceit, and justice to convenience.
-
Loved your story. Two rowdy boys getting their just desserts. Despite their initial reluctance they both found that they eventually enjoyed their punishment and continue to practice it. Leaves the door open for a sequel at some later date. heres hoping. :)