Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Menu => Active Sissy Stories => Topic started by: sissyboy1212 on January 14, 2022, 06:04:31 PM
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I had another idea which prompted me to check in on Clarissa. For those of you who like to keep events in the proper sequence, this episode takes place shortly following the events of "Clarissa's Visit: A Prequel."
5-7 parts are planned.
Hope you enjoy.
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PART 1
Mike Bradley was happily tossing a frisbee with his friends in the local park when, from the corner of his eye, he saw his mother’s car pull into the nearby parking lot. Perturbed, he saw that she was early. She had dropped him off just a couple of hours ago, and she wasn’t supposed to pick him up for another 45 minutes. Most of his peers rode their bikes to the park on their own now, but his mother always insisted on dropping him off and picking him up instead. At twelve years old, he thought he was old enough by now to make it to the park and back by himself.
As adolescent boys often do, his friend Charlie teased him when he saw her car and said, “Oh Mikey… Mommy’s here!”
Mike rolled his eyes at his friend and scowled. But then, he heard his mother toot her car horn and realized reluctantly he would have to go meet her. Distracted, he muffed an easy throw and turned a little red as he had to leave his friends early. Frustrated, he watched the frisbee bounce to the ground after what should have been a simple catch.
Grimacing, he muttered, “I guess I’ve got to go guys.”
He tried his best to ignore the teasing kissing sounds his buddies made as he trudged to his mother’s car in the nearby parking lot.
Still miffed, Mike opened the car door and crawled into the passenger seat full of adolescent attitude. As it was the middle of August, his mother had the air conditioning going full blast. Before he spoke, however, Mike saw his mother’s jaw was clenched tightly. She was not happy. Instantly, he was on guard.
“Mike,” she began curtly, “can you explain this please?” As she spoke, Mike saw that she held the ripped up pieces of a birthday party invitation. It had been partially taped back together. He paled abruptly. Now nearly frantic, he wondered, “How did she find that!?” He realized at once that he was in trouble. He should have been more careful with that stupid card.
About an hour earlier, Carol Bradley had been tossing some trash in the garbage can when she spotted a tiny bit of shiny pink ribbon peeking from underneath a crumpled plastic bag. Curious, she reached down to see what it was. Pushing aside a plastic bag and a used coffee filter, she saw the ribbon was a decoration attached to part of a little card that had apparently been torn apart. She quickly fished out the other pieces of the ripped up paper to find it was an invitation to a girl’s birthday party for someone named Elizabeth Smalls.
“Oh yes,” Carol had thought to herself as she remembered that Elizabeth had been the youngest girl in Mrs. Cranston’s ballet class earlier that summer. She briefly recalled that wonderful recital the girls had done at the end of the class. All the girls had been so cute in their pink leotards and darling little tutus. Carol’s mood had quickly soured as she realized Mike must have gotten this in the mail and then thrown it away so she wouldn’t see it. She had been annoyed when she saw an RSVP had been requested, and she felt certain Mike had not bothered to reply. She had next found all the pieces of the pale pink envelope which evidently had contained the party invitation. When she saw who the invitation was addressed to, Carol had understood what must have happened.
Back in the parking lot, Mike flushed despite the air conditioning. The twelve year old boy began uncertainly, “I uhhh… I just thought that since… since…” he stammered and then trailed off. His face grew beet red now and he felt a cold trickle of sweat on his back. “Well… that invitation was for…” he paused again. He couldn’t find the right words to explain, and he didn’t want to say that name out loud again.
His mother interjected, “You thought that you would just tear up the invitation rather than RSVP properly? It’s past the RSVP date and the party is tomorrow! That’s very rude and inconsiderate! Little Elizabeth thought kindly enough to include you in her party, and you don’t even have the manners to politely let her know whether or not you’ll attend? They have to plan for the right number of guests. And why would you be so thoughtless to a little girl? I’ve tried to teach you better manners than this.” Carol gave her son a piercing gaze and waited for him to respond.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he was caught completely off guard. He had no idea what to say. He remained silent.
“Mike,” his mother chided, “I thought we were making some progress with your behavior.” He noted that she spoke with an unmistakable tone of disappointment. He might have misheard, but he thought she also clucked her tongue deliberately.
After a lingering and uncomfortable pause, Mike blurted, “I don’t want to go to that stupid party! It’s only for girls!” The red-faced boy’s lip was quivering slightly now. Belatedly, he sensed he had just crossed a line.
Calmly, his mother gave him a withering look. “Well, ever since I found this in the garbage earlier, I’ve actually had some time to think about it,” she began coldly. “As I think you know, this invitation was addressed to a girl…” she noted as her voice trailed off. Mike could see her wheels begin to spin. He sat on pins and needles now, and his spirits sank when he saw the corners of her mouth turn up slightly in a tight smile. She had obviously reached a decision. Next, she spoke calmly but firmly to her preteen son, “Don’t say anything else, dear, while I call Elizabeth’s mother. It's obvious that we need to improve your manners.”
Sitting beside his mother in the parked car, Mike powerlessly watched her reach for her cellphone. Chagrined, he felt his stomach jump as she dialed the number on the invitation for the RSVP. He could faintly hear the other end ringing and then a woman’s voice answered.
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You are a supremely talented storyteller.
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Thank you petticoated. Given all your writing, I take that as high praise :)
Next part should come tomorrow.
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Very exciting to see another installment in this saga. Can't wait to see where this goes!
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I hope Clarissa will be back spending lots of time in tights and a tutu. It seems Clarissa forgot some of the discipline ballet taught.
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These are some of my favorite stories. I really hope you write about his first ballet class experience soon.
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PART 2
“Hello, Mrs. Smalls? This is Carol Bradley,” his mother spoke into her phone. Transfixed, Mike felt as though he was trapped in a slow motion train wreck. “I’m so sorry that we overlooked the date, but I’m calling to RSVP for Elizabeth’s birthday party tomorrow if it’s not too late.” Mike listened in horror as Mrs. Smalls said something he couldn’t make out on the other end. Then his mother smiled at him while she spoke again, “Elizabeth’s turning nine is that right? How nice!” There was another brief pause while Mrs. Smalls spoke.
Mike listened in near disbelief as his mother continued, “Yes of course she’s here with me right now. She’s so looking forward to it. I’ll put her on the phone and let her tell you herself!” Then, Mike’s mother gave the flustered boy a stern look and very deliberately handed him the phone. “Clarissa…” she began pointedly, and Mike nearly recoiled as his mother said the name. “Please apologize to Mrs. Smalls and give her your RSVP for Elizabeth’s party.” By now, it was painstakingly clear to Mike what she expected him to say.
“Mrs. Smalls,” he began reluctantly in a small voice, “this is… uhh… hello this is… Clarissa.” The words nearly choked in his mouth as he said that dreaded name again. As he spoke, he found himself unable to turn his eyes away from his mother. Meanwhile, Carol watched and listened intently. “Yes ma’am…” the flustered lad continued, “Uhhh… Yes ma’am, of course.” Another pause. “I’m so sorry I didn’t RSVP on time, Mrs. Smalls. ” A brief pause while Mrs. Smalls replied. Mike’s mother noted with satisfaction that her son’s voice had almost automatically become slightly more feminine and lilting. Then very reluctantly, Mike said, “Yes… that’s right of course… Yes ma’am, I’ll be at Elizabeth’s party. Th- Thank you for inviting me,” he managed to sputter. In spite of himself, he concluded weakly, “Yes… I can’t wait!”
His mother smiled sweetly as she retrieved her phone. “Wonderful! It’s settled then?” she asked. After a moment she added, “and I’m also happy to help chaperone if you need any assistance!”
Mike was flabbergasted at how Clarissa had swooped in from nowhere to wreck his week. His heart began to flutter as there was another short response from Mrs. Smalls. He cringed anew as he recalled the party theme he had read about on the invitation. It was one of the reasons he had torn it up in the first place.
His mother continued, “I saw on the invitation that it’s a princess-themed party? That sounds so adorable! And just like the invitation says, I’ll make certain Clarissa wears her ‘Princess Best!’”
Mike was horrified as he thought about what Clarissa’s “Princess Best” might be. It was sure to be over-the-top girly and sissyish. Sitting miserably in the passenger seat, he saw his friends still playing frisbee on the field.
“Thank you so much and we’ll see you tomorrow at two,” his mother said gaily as she ended her call. Carol thought it sort of made sense in retrospect. A few of the other ballet parents may have suspected the truth about Clarissa, but it’s not something she had discussed with any of them. She had no previous interactions with Mrs. Smalls, and she was sure that Cynthia Cranston hadn’t told any of them about Clarissa either. Then she remembered that Cynthia had distributed a sheet to the parents with all the students’ names and contact information. She retrieved the paper, and there it was in black and white. It was obvious now. The party invitation had been addressed to Clarissa Bradley, so that’s who would attend.
Turning back to her crestfallen son, she repeated the phrase thoughtfully, “Hmmm… your ‘Princess Best...’” She now seemed full of energy as she continued, “Well that’s settled… Clarissa, dear… We have a lot to do before tomorrow!”
Mike was aghast at how quickly his day had turned to disaster. He was nearly a teenager, but he felt so small and childish now.
His mother went on, “I saw a dress in a secondhand shop just the other day that would be perfect!” Regretfully, she admitted, “I just knew I should have picked it up when I saw it.” She continued, “Since we’re already out and about, we’ll just drive over and see if it’s still there. Hopefully no one else has beaten us to it. And then you’ll also need to find a nice birthday gift for Elizabeth.”
“Of course, Mother,” he said weakly as his spirits plummeted.
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PART 3
Now that things were in motion, Mike’s mother fixed a steely gaze on her nervous son. He watched apprehensively as she reached into the back seat to grab something. “First things first though, Clarissa,” she began ominously, “your sneakers are covered in dirt as I expected, so I brought you a change of shoes and socks from home.” She handed him a pair of pink slip-on sneakers and some stretchy white ankle socks. He instantly recognized these items from Clarissa’s closet. He had worn them before. In theory, the low-top canvas shoes with the white rubber soles were gender-neutral, but their pastel pink color and slim design made them undeniably feminine. Making a slight face, he remembered belatedly his mother sometimes called them his “espadrilles.”
Sitting nervously in the passenger seat and seeing no other option, he slowly removed his dirty athletic shoes and socks. Then he reluctantly pulled on the thin ankle socks. To his dismay, they had the kind of ribbed fold-down cuffs with a cute scalloped trim you would never see in boys’ socks. Once he slipped his feet into the pink sneakers, he tried to push his socks down as low as possible so the wavy cuffs were somewhat less obvious. When he sat back up, his mother had him place his dirty shoes and socks in a plastic grocery sack.
“And let’s change that ratty tee shirt as well,” she said firmly. She again reached behind the seat and casually passed him another item. There was another uncomfortable pause as she waited impatiently for him to comply. This feeble trace of hesitance seemed to annoy her greatly. A moment later, Mike caved. He pulled off his red and black tee with the logo of the local high school sports team emblazoned on the front. Shirtless and chilly now from the air conditioning, he watched meekly as his favorite “Lions” tee shirt went in the grocery sack as well. His mother quickly knotted the ends of the sack tight and tossed it carelessly into the back seat. Mike saw that the pale pink polo shirt she gave him was also Clarissa’s. He was immediately self-conscious when he put it on. It was most definitely a girl’s style with its closely fitted cap sleeves and rounded Peter Pan collar.
Relaxing slightly with the first signs of Clarissa’s reemergence now visible, his mother next reached into her purse while she continued to eye him intently. Mike sat on pins and needles as she extracted a handful of disposable moist towelettes. “Give me your hands dear,” she demanded, “I can see they’re positively filthy!” Embarrassed and blushing, Mike sat helplessly as his mother used the scented towelettes to thoroughly wipe his hands and nails clean. Then, to his horror, she pulled a bottle of pink nail polish from her purse as well!
“A little nail polish will keep you in the right frame of mind until we can get you home and changed, Clarissa,” she informed him. When it came to matters concerning Clarissa, his mother was accustomed to having her way.
Red-faced, the humiliated boy sat meekly in the running car while his mother meticulously painted his fingernails an adorable shade of bubblegum pink. As she expertly coated his nails with the shiny polish, Mike couldn’t help but glance through the windshield at his friends in the distance. They were still happily playing as Clarissa made her entrance. He cast his eyes back down to see the pink nail polish being carefully stroked onto his nails one by one. The contrast of his situation with that of his friends made him feel even more like a sissy. His throat tightened and he felt tears welling in the corners of his eyes.
“There now,” his mother said proudly as she finished, “that looks so much better dear.” Then she asked, “Don’t you just adore the color?”
After a painful pause, Mike said with forced enthusiasm, “Ohhh… yes Mother it’s such a pretty pink! I love it, thank you!” He knew well what he was supposed to say.
She smiled and then cautioned him, “Be careful you don’t smudge them while they dry!” After that, things got even worse. He watched nervously as she reached once more into her purse. To his dismay, she produced a pair of white metal snap-on hair clips. Unable to use his hands, he sat powerlessly as she reached over and used a small hairbrush to bring his long bangs to the left side of his head. Then, she neatly snapped in the clips to hold his hair back in a simple but girlish style. “That will make your hair a little more presentable until I can give it the attention it really needs,” she concluded. He couldn’t see his hair in the mirror, but he had no doubt it looked very feminine.
“Yes Mother,” Mike replied quietly in defeat. He looked down at his hands. His wet nails sparkled in the sun. The scent of the polish in the car lingered as they drove away. He was keenly aware of the hair clips tugging gently on the side of his head. The cap sleeves of his pink polo felt awkwardly snug. Silently fretting, Mike stared longingly out the window as the car passed his friends on the field. With little warning, Clarissa was back. Another chunk of his summer would be ruined now. He knew that by evening he would again be completely immersed in Clarissa’s feminine world of dresses and petticoats.
Without even thinking about it, he silently mouthed the words to himself, “My name is Clarissa.” He drearily studied his gleaming pink nails and said under his breath, “I’m Clarissa.”
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Thank you all for the comments and feedback. I especially appreciate the notes from the other authors who contribute their work.
I expect to post the next part tonight or tomorrow. Probably will be 7 or maybe 8 parts in all.
Hugs!
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PART 4
“Oh honey, we’re in luck! It’s still here!” Carol Bradley said excitedly to her chastened preteen. With a look of triumph, she eagerly pulled the object of her attention from a clothing rack in the secondhand shop. “I think this will work beautifully,” his mother said happily. “I’ll need to do some alterations, but it’ll be so cute on you when I’m done,” she continued. “Don’t you just love it?” she asked.
Mike was already incredibly self-conscious and subdued. His pink sneakers, girls polo, painted nails and hair clips were having the intended effects on his attitude. Although they were the sort of things that might possibly go unnoticed by a casual observer, he was painfully aware of the girlish changes to his appearance. He felt like every movement called attention to his bubblegum pink nails, and he desperately wanted to sink through the shop’s floor. There were only a few other customers, but he was constantly turning his head away from them in an effort to hide his hair clips. He tried not to look down at his girly pink sneakers, and he knew the cute Peter Pan collar on his closely fitted polo was a sure giveaway to anyone paying attention. His only saving grace was that this shop was a bit of a drive from home in a nearby town. With a bit of luck (which admittedly had been terrible so far) no one he knew would recognize him.
Now, however, he looked with fresh horror at the elaborately girly dress his mother had selected. He cringed as he knew that he would soon be wearing it. “Oh yes Mother… it’s so pretty,” he managed to croak softly as she handed him the pink monstrosity for him to carry.
Dressed as he was, Mike itched to leave quickly. It was apparent, however, that his mother was not done shopping. He knew she loved secondhand stores, and she especially enjoyed finding pretty things for Clarissa. Soon, she found another cute dress she liked and held it up against his body to check the size. This one was made of white cotton fabric with delicate purple embroidery and trim. “Let’s see… this is a girls size 14, so it’s still a bit large for you,” she said thinking out loud. “It appears to run a little small though,” she decided, “so I can take it in for now and you’ll grow into it in no time!” It always stung him to be reminded of how slight and girlish his build still was even at the age of twelve. Smiling, she breezily handed him that dress to carry too. She was in full swing now.
Next, she saw a brand new pair of yellow Mary Janes and insisted he try them on. They were near the rear of the store so he didn’t think anyone saw him, but his skin still crawled when he slipped them on. Unlike most of Clarissa’s other shoes, these had a slightly more pronounced low heel. They fit perfectly, but he felt so awkward in the unfamiliar heels.
“You’re old enough now that it’s time you started getting used to heels, Clarissa,” his mother whispered to him. “And those should go perfectly with your yellow lace party dress!” she said with a pleased look. That lemon yellow dress had rapidly become one of his mother’s favorites, and Mike grimaced helplessly as Clarissa’s wardrobe expanded right before his eyes. He couldn’t imagine many things more effeminate than shopping for his own girls clothes with his mother. He again prayed he wouldn’t see anyone he knew.
By the time they reached the checkout counter, Mike also carried a lavender skirt and a pink girls tee shirt in addition to the dresses and shoes. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, he hastily put everything on the counter and stood timidly beside his mother. As an older lady rang up all the purchases, she smiled down at the abashed young boy with the cute hair clips and pink polo. With growing curiosity, she had watched him shyly follow his mother around the girls section. Now that she had a better look at him, she also noticed the fussy ripple edge socks he wore with his pink shoes. “What pretty things, dear,” she noted in surprise, “are these all for you?”
Mike blushed and didn’t know what to say. He thrust his hands in the pockets of his slim khaki shorts and prayed that she hadn’t noticed his nail polish.
His mother chimed in, “Oh don't I wish!” she said mischievously, “How cute would that be?” Then she explained with a little smile, “But no these are just some things for his cousin Clarissa who is coming to visit us. She and Mike here are close in age and almost the same size so he’s… volunteered to help me.”
“Well… of course that explains it… obviously,” the saleslady agreed after an awkward pause. She spoke to Mike then, “It’s so sweet that you’re willing to help your mother like this. Most boys would consider it out of the question.” She continued, “I wondered what was going on when I saw you trying on those darling shoes in the back.” Then, after another moment, she added half-jokingly, “But you strike me as a ‘fashion forward’ young man who’s not afraid to be different!”
The lady then pointed to a shelf at the end of the counter, “You might like those socks over there though… they’re brand new in the package and very similar to the ones you’re wearing.” She added, “they come three pairs to the pack in different colors. I just got them and they won’t last long I’m sure!”
As Mike reddened more, his mother interjected brightly, “why yes those do look nice!” She said to the sales lady, “We’ll take a pack of those as well… he goes through his socks like crazy!” Mike watched as the lady added a package to their growing pile of purchases. He saw that the packaging clearly labelled them as girls ankle socks, and he could see pink, purple and yellow through the clear plastic.
The grinning sales lady then leaned forward in a conspiratorial tone and said, “I like your hair clips! You know, honey, it would be OK if you wanted to try on these pretty dresses too!”
Horrified, Mike looked at his mother with pleading eyes. His heart fluttered in fear as he faced the prospect of trying on dresses when the saleslady already knew he was a boy. It was obvious that his mother considered it for a moment, but then, much to Mike’s relief, she said, “Oh thank you, but I’m sure these will be fine... for Clarissa. We have a busy afternoon and we need to get going.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he heard his mother say, “Maybe another time…”
The lady looked slightly disappointed. She had clearly expected a different response, but she smiled anyway and finished ringing up all the purchases. Finishing, she chuckled and said to Mike in a friendly way, “Well dear you come back anytime, and on your next visit we’ll find some nice things for you!” Her eyes twinkled brightly in amusement. Then, to Mike’s great chagrin, she couldn’t help but add in a whisper, “I love your nails too!”
At that, Mike's face turned a deep crimson. “Th.. thank you,” he managed to sputter. That removed any doubt that she knew he was a true sissy. She obviously suspected all along that these things were for him and had just been playing along with the pretense. He was incredibly grateful when they finally left the store with all their purchases and were back in the car.
“Thank goodness they still had that dress, Clarissa!” his mother said happily as the car’s air conditioner blasted again. “You’ll look like a perfect little princess once I get the alterations done!”
Mike squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. His thoughts were consumed now by all the sissy things soon to come his way. He couldn’t help but notice how his shiny pink nails flashed so brightly in the afternoon summer sun. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he felt intense regret at how thoughtless he had been with that party invitation!
Meanwhile next to him, Mike’s mother happily envisioned how absolutely adorable he was going to look for the princess party. She thought she already had the perfect shoes for the outfit in Clarissa’s things back home. It would be a nice surprise since they were a recent purchase, and her blushing preteen hadn’t even had a chance to wear them yet. Relieved now to have secured the perfect dress, she began giving some thought to hairstyles. Her spirits were always buoyed when Clarissa was around. Notwithstanding Mike’s misbehavior, it was a treat for Clarissa to return so quickly after last month’s ballet recital.
As she turned the car onto the highway, she spoke in a much firmer tone that made Mike’s stomach jump in awful anticipation. “But now, Clarissa,” she began purposefully, “it’s well past time that we got you properly dressed.” With an obvious touch of distaste she added, “in those clothes, people will think you’re a tomboy!” Expectantly, she asked, “We can’t have that now, can we dear?”
“No Mother… of course not,” he said mousily. Mike suffered in silence as he dreaded the inevitable. Unfortunately for him, everything to this point had been merely an unhappy prelude. He knew things were about to get worse.
“Definitely not,” he heard his mother echo under her breath, “I won’t have that.”
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What an absolutely wonderful story. There is nothing more delightful than the combination of a strong, dominant mother combined with a weak, somewhat effeminate son. Thank you - very much looking forward to more!
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PART 5
The next two hours sped by in a blur for the sissified lad, but oh what a difference a little time made! By mid-afternoon, a very discomfited Mike Bradley again exited the passenger seat of his mother’s car. Now, however, there was no visible clue of the boy who had played frisbee all morning with his friends. He looked nothing like a boy, or even a tomboy for that matter.
Instead, he had been meticulously scrubbed clean and wore a natty navy blue skater-style dress with an embossed floral print. All his boys clothes were securely locked away in his room back at home which was now decidedly off limits. His summery dress had the cutest ruffled short sleeves and a skirt that flared out nicely at his knees. His mother had insisted on adding a lightweight tulle petticoat which only accentuated the bouncy skirt. Clarissa almost always wore petticoats with her outfits… much more often than other girls her age ever did. After all, as his mother reminded him from time to time, proper petticoat punishment requires a petticoat. It was right there in the name!
Underneath his petticoat, the elaborately lacy trim of his pink and white satin panties grazed his thighs repeatedly. His mother had touched up his freshly painted fingernails and added a clear topcoat for protection. Buckled snugly on the feminized boy’s petite feet were a darling pair of white patent leather sandals. His mother had also thoughtfully painted his toenails to match his fingers, and the pretty pink nail polish looked absolutely precious with his strappy open-toe shoes. His hair clips were gone. Completing his look instead were two prominent white grosgrain ribbon hairbows fastened on either side of his head. The stiff bows had a slight sheen and drew his brunette hair back adorably. She had also used her flat iron just a tad to give it a little extra curl. He looked every bit like a prissy preteen girl who was ten or eleven at most.
Cringing, he followed his mother into the department store located in a suburb on the other side of town. Mike reluctantly minced behind her to the cosmetics department where he felt positively surrounded by all the ultra-feminine products on every display shelf. It shocked him how rapidly his game of frisbee with friends had been overtaken by a sissy shopping spree with his mother. Despite his unease, his gestures and mannerisms were feminine and graceful out of repetition and habit. He was momentarily mesmerized when he passed one of the store’s many full-length mirrors and caught his reflection. To his dismay, he saw no trace of a boy staring back at him. From head to toe, all he saw was Clarissa. He involuntarily reached up and lightly brushed one of his pretty hairbows. It felt so stiff and crinkly to the touch.
Watching him closely, his mother noted with appreciation that his recent ballet lessons seemed to have made an impact. The girlified boy moved even more fluidly and daintily than before. The way he swished his bouncy skirt to and fro without even thinking was just captivating. She had especially enjoyed doing up his hair in those adorable white hairbows. As her thoughts returned to his hair, she had an inspiration. “Yes,” she thought to herself with satisfaction, “I know what will be perfect for tomorrow.”
With his mother’s guidance, Mike soon selected a girls starter makeup kit as a birthday present for Elizabeth. It contained a compact hand mirror, three different kinds of lip gloss, some subtly pale pink blush, a tube of scented hand cream, some makeup brushes and a few other odds and ends all in a cute pink zippered case.
The attractive young sales clerk at the cosmetics counter smiled sweetly at him as they checked out. She appeared to be about twenty, and she had fair skin and long black hair . “Is this for you sweetie?” she asked. “It’s a nice starter set… all the products in it are very light and understated,” she added helpfully.
“No… uhh..,” he replied squeakily, “it’s… uh… it’s a birthday present for my friend.” Mike was suddenly nervous for a new reason. Just recently, only in the past few weeks, he had started getting… excited… down there… at random times. He knew what was happening since he had learned about this in health class, but he was still terribly embarrassed by it. It all felt so unfamiliar and seemed to happen with no warning. To his horror, it was happening now as he stood in his cute dress and petticoat before the pretty girl. His mouth got dry and his heart beat faster. He was acutely aware of the uncomfortable tension in his panties, and his skin tingled.
“Oh that’s lovely,” she remarked. She was looking at the makeup kit now and didn’t seem to detect his unease. She had just noticed something else amiss. “Hmmm… it seems the display price on these sets is wrong,” she explained, “they are actually on a clearance sale as a 2-for-1 special, so you can get one for yourself too at no extra cost!”
Happily surprised, Carol smiled and said, “What good luck, dear! Isn’t that nice?”
“Yes Mother, that’s wonderful,” Mike managed to choke out. In addition to everything else, now he would have his first little makeup case. He felt a little lightheaded and could feel his cheeks flushing. Exquisitely uncomfortable now, he stewed in his own thoughts. He carefully tried to adjust his skirt ever so slightly, but he found no relief for his discomfort.
There was a long pause, and Mike realized his mother had been watching him swish his skirt again this whole time. Belatedly, it dawned on him that she was waiting for him to say something else. When he didn’t speak, she prodded him with a question, “Remember your manners. Now what do we say, dear?”
Reddening more as he was corrected by his mother like a little child, he could feel the strain in his panties increasing. He shifted his feet nervously which caused his swishy petticoat to tickle his legs again. Finally, he managed to reply in a shaky voice, “Oh yes… Thank you ma’am. I can’t wait to try some of it on. It’s sooo cute!” he suddenly blurted. His nerves were on edge, and the words came out louder and more enthusiastically than he intended.
“Oh please don’t call me ‘ma’am,’” she said nicely. “I’m Stephanie,” she continued, “and you’re more than welcome.” Then Stephanie asked, ”What’s your name sweetheart?”
Extremely antsy now, Mike’s stomach fluttered as Stephanie spoke to him again. Catching his mother’s eye, he groaned inwardly as he knew what she wanted from him: A proper introduction. The petticoated boy’s cheeks were very warm now. He replied softly, “I’m… I’m… Clarissa.” It was hard for him to think, and he felt a fresh surge of embarrassment as he said that name. Then, of course, he knew what he had to do next. Taking a jittery breath, he daintily grasped the hem of his flouncy skirt and dipped into a quick curtsey. His girlish movements only seemed to exacerbate his problem. He couldn’t avoid swishing his petticoat yet again, and he felt a fresh rush of the store’s cool air underneath his skirt. It all tickled him mercilessly.
Stephanie let out a delighted little laugh as she marveled at the bashful girly-girl in front of her. With a pleased look, Mike’s mother explained, “Clarissa has been invited to her little friend’s princess birthday party. She needs to look her ‘Princess Best’ tomorrow!” She smiled lovingly at her thoroughly petticoated child. In her eyes, the sweet blushing just made him look that much cuter. Having Clarissa around always put an extra spring in her step.
“Well aren’t you just the most precious thing in your cute little dress and those darling hairbows!” Stephanie said fawningly. “You certainly curtsey like a little princess, Clarissa,” she noted sweetly, “and now you’ll get to try some of your new makeup for the party!”
Mike made his best attempt at an appreciative smile, but he felt unable to speak. The straining in his frilly panties was nearly unbearable now. His feet felt glued to the floor as Stephanie went on about how adorable he was. The skittish sissy grew weak in the knees as she continued to gush. For Mike, the next minute was excruciating as the full weight of his sissification crashed down on him.
Finally and thankfully, Mike’s tension began to ease somewhat as Stephanie packed up the makeup kits. She insisted on putting them in two fancy white gift bags with pink tissue paper sticking jauntily from the top. Ironically, he found himself somewhat grateful that his petticoat and skirt had hidden his little problem from Stephanie. His anxiety spiked up one more time, however, when Stephanie patted him lightly on the shoulder as she handed him the bags. As she touched his shoulder, it felt like a small electric shock.
Mike was crestfallen as he meekly departed the store close by his mother’s side. He was thoroughly embarrassed by the whole episode. This had happened a few other times, but never before while he was dressed as Clarissa! It was a humiliating experience, especially to have it happen right in front of such a pretty girl. He gingerly carried the two gift bags to the car as if they might bite him. Inevitably, his thoughts began to turn to what awaited him next. When they returned home, he knew he would be subjected to another of his mother’s dress fitting sessions. He sighed dejectedly as he remembered the dress he would have to wear tomorrow. He was also nervous about the unpleasant prospect of makeup. Most of all, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the phrase “Princess Best” out of his mind. His petticoat swished loudly, and he shuddered involuntarily as he felt a residual tingle under his bouncy skirt.
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PART 6
“Clarissa, please look in my craft chest and fetch me that roll of pink tulle,” Mike’s mother brightly directed him. She had her sewing machine set up in the corner of the den and was busy at work on his dress for the princess party.
Mike sighed cheerlessly and stood up from the small chair where he had been perched sitting next to her. “Yes Mother, of course,” he replied obediently. Wasn’t it bad enough that he would have to wear that sickeningly sweet dress tomorrow? Now, he also had to be her little helper as she made all the alterations.
Mike had spent the previous half hour wearing his lovely new dress in another of his mother’s extended fitting sessions. Repeatedly, he had stepped up and down from the low stool his mother always used while she fussily tugged, adjusted, fluffed and pinned it here and there. She frequently had him walk across the room or deliberately swish the skirt around to check her work. She was constantly observing “how it fell” as she sought to make it picture perfect. He detested these sessions. It was so humiliating to basically be turned into a living mannequin and model the girliest clothes he could imagine. At this point, however, he had long lost count of how many times he had done it.
Today’s session had been especially miserable since his thoughts were still consumed by his unforgettable experience in the store with Stephanie earlier. Every so often, especially when he swished his skirt, he felt another unfamiliar tingle and desperately worried about it happening again. All these sensations were so new and confusing.
Walking over to the craft chest, he passed in front of his mother’s large free-standing mirror. He couldn’t help but again gawk at his girlish reflection. When his mother had finally completed fitting his dress earlier, he had hoped to be allowed to wear a more casual outfit for the rest of the evening. It was bad enough Clarissa had returned, but he had at least thought he might change into a simple skirt and maybe even a girls tee shirt if he was lucky. Those hopes had been quickly dashed, however.
Carol Bradley glanced up from her sewing. With satisfaction, she noted how girlishly her feminized son stepped across the den. She smiled when she saw him pause in front of the full-length mirror. “Those shoes really do make the outfit,” she said admiringly, “we were so lucky to find them!”
Glumly, Mike studied his reflection. His mother had been so pleased when she came across these yellow Mary Janes. After his fitting session, she had insisted on getting out his lemon yellow party dress and putting him in it so she could see the entire outfit with the new shoes. The fancy white grosgrain hairbows were still fastened securely in his hair, and they appeared even larger and more sissyish than he remembered from earlier that afternoon. Next, he caught a flash of shiny pink color and winced. The painful memory of having his nails painted while watching his friends play in the park rushed back to him instantly.
Looking at his dress, he flinched slightly as he studied the delicate floral pattern in the airy lace fabric. The darling ruffled neckline was so feminine, and his mother had tapered the waist significantly to highlight his slender build. In contrast, his billowy yellow skirt poofed out prominently due to the substantial white tulle petticoat he wore beneath it. The satin ribbon sash encircling his waist just made the dress all the more girlish. Under his petticoat, he wore a lovely pair of elaborately ruffled white tights. The snugness of his girlish tights only made the unwelcome tingles more frequent as they rubbed against the satin panties he was wearing. Completing the look, his charming new yellow Mary Janes paired adorably with the pristine white tights.
“Oh yes, Mother,” he finally replied with little enthusiasm, “I just adore my new Mary Janes.”
Mike reflected ruefully that the first time he had been put into this dress was the same day Mrs. Cranston had learned about Clarissa. With a shudder, he recalled the feeling of helplessly standing in this very room dressed as a prissy little girl while his secret shame was revealed to her. It was seared into his memory. His effeminate curtsey during that encounter had sealed his fate and led to his ballet lessons, and those lessons had resulted in meeting little Elizabeth. In turn, that introduction had led to the party invitation. He feared that no matter what, he would never be free of Clarissa now. She seemed to be inescapable. Reflexively, he silently mouthed the words again, “I’m Clarissa.”
Suddenly catching himself, he quickly averted his eyes from the mirror. The sissified boy opened his mother’s craft chest and found the big roll of gauzy pink tulle right on top. The netted material felt so light and delicate to his touch.
“Oh and please bring me that wide roll of pink satin ribbon also,” his mother called to him. She had a clear vision now of how she wanted this dress to look. It would be precious when she was done!
Mike saw several different rolls of pink ribbon in the chest and grabbed the one nearest the top. His mother looked up again and corrected him immediately with a slight frown, “No not that one Clarissa… that’s fuchsia, not pink.” She continued, “I want the extra wide pastel pink one underneath it… next to that package of sequins.” When she saw he had the right roll now, she said, “yes that’s the one I need, dear, the heavier satin one.”
Dutifully mincing back to his mother’s side with the additional ribbon and tulle for his dress, the feminized boy now dreaded wearing it even more.
“See this bow here?” she said to him as she showed him part of the dress, “it’s nice enough, but it’s much too small and plain for a princess.” She continued merrily, “It will only take a few minutes to make a nicer one and switch it out!” She then pointed to a different area and said, “and you can see here that adding some more tulle will make all the difference in your overall look!” She held a length of the wispy fabric in her hand so he could visualize what she had planned and added, “it’s such a lovely little dress otherwise… I’m not sure why they skimped so on the tulle!” Then she reassured him, “but don’t you worry dear, I promise you will be beautiful in it tomorrow.”
After a moment, she asked playfully, as if she had forgotten, “Don’t you want to look… now what was that phrase they used… your ‘Princess something…’ what was it again Clarissa?…” She shot him another look.
“My… ‘Princess Best,’” Mike finally answered in a small voice. Then with a little more feigned eagerness, he said, “I am supposed to wear my ‘Princess Best’ for the party.” Next, after thinking about it, he tried to avoid any more trouble by adding, “Thank you so much Mother. It’s adorable and I can’t wait for Elizabeth to see it!” Thankfully this seemed to suffice for now.
Smiling weakly, he watched his mother grab her scissors and enthusiastically resume her work. “Princess Best,” he thought unhappily to himself. As he gathered his skirt underneath him and retook his seat next to his mother, the ceaseless rustling of his petticoat sent another jolt through his panties. He sat on the edge of his seat with his feet and knees pressed girlishly together. Out of habit, he gently straightened and smoothed his skirt. Cautiously, he then folded his manicured hands and rested them very delicately on his lap. With a deepening sense of gloom, he watched his mother began expertly crafting a large and elaborate pink bow.
“Posture dear,” she said as she glanced up. “Sit up nice and pretty like a princess,” she added with a little giggle.
“Yes Mother,” he said obediently as he jerked up in his seat.
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It's a whole lot of fun going backwards through Clarissa's development! With all this emphasis on 'princess best', I have a feeling the birthday party might have some sort of award for the absolute best princess best and, given how much attention Clarissa's mom is giving the dress, she (hopefully) stands a good chance of winning! At the very least, I imagine Mike's probably more able to handle navigating princess petticoats than the average party guest.
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PART 7
Mike slept fitfully. He had an especially vivid dream about his experience in the department store with the pretty Stephanie. In his dream, he had stood sweetly in his lemon yellow party dress in front of her while his mother watched attentively. An incredibly oversized and sissyish yellow hairbow was pinned tightly in his hair. This time, Stephanie had insisted on putting some of his new makeup on him right there in the store. He had grown excited again in his panties as she took a soft little brush and slowly applied some adorable pink blush to his already red cheeks. His breath had grown rapid and he felt intense tingling in his tights and panties.
Then, as she began to apply a generous coat of pink lipstick to his quivering lips, she said, “Now pucker up sweetly, Mikey dear… I’m going to make you my prettiest little princess boy!” The feminized boy paled as he realized she knew he was a boy! Suddenly, out of nowhere, he saw all his friends from the park around him as Stephanie put the makeup on him. “Mikey is going to look his ‘Princess Best’ for his little party!” she told all the onlookers. “Swish your pretty petticoat for your friends Mikey,” she told him. Then, slyly, she asked him, “but you want me to call you by your real name don’t you sweetheart?”
An intense wave of humiliation swept over him and his heart raced. Still, he couldn’t help but squeal, “Oh yes please Stephanie! My name is… Clarissa!” Obediently, he then dramatically swished his petticoat back and forth before dropping into a lovely curtsey. All his friends burst out in fits of giggles at his predicament.
At that point, he heard a loud ringing in his ears and the pulsing in his panties grew unbearable. Helplessly exposed now, he trembled as his tights rubbed against his panties and petticoat. The tension seemed to reach a new level. Stephanie giggled and patted him sweetly on his slender shoulder. “There, there little sugarplum…” she cooed condescendingly. He frightfully looked up into her beautiful eyes…
That’s when he woke up. After a few moments of panic, he finally comprehended that he had been dreaming, and it was morning. Then, oddly, he realized he felt wet. Reaching down, he was surprised and shocked to find his lavender pajama shorts were damp. “Did I wet the bed?” he thought in horror. Throwing back the sheets, he saw a little spot on his silky shorts. Then, he realized that it wasn’t pee. Confused, he found a sticky little mess in his girly pajama shorts.
After a minute of confused fretting, he began to realize what had happened. He’d had his first wet dream! Boys tend to talk, and he knew it had already happened to some of his friends. Now it had happened to him! At this sudden realization, however, he was deeply humiliated that it had happened to him as Clarissa. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. Hastily stripping off his frilly lavender pajama shorts, he felt so embarrassed as he gawked at the unmistakable wet spot. He used a tissue and hastily tried to wipe it up the best he could in the bathroom sink.
Trying to clean his silky pajama shorts, he heard his mother call cheerfully from the hallway, “Good morning, Clarissa dear! I see you’re already up and excited for your party!” Then he heard her add, “Go ahead and take your shower, please, and be sure to wash and condition your hair. Then, meet me in your room!”
Mike grimaced to be reminded that Elizabeth’s party was today. Today he would be dressed in his “Princess Best,” he thought dejectedly. “Yes, Mother,” he replied in a quavering voice.
With a sense of impending doom, he took off his matching camisole pajama top. Then he tried to dry his frilly pajama shorts as best he could and threw both items in the laundry hamper. He was beside himself that Clarissa had intruded on his first wet dream. She ruined everything! For some reason, he wanted to cry. Completely unsettled, he jumped into the shower and began to soap himself up with the sweetly scented bath gel.
Hours passed.
Much later, Mike sat miserably on the padded stool in front of Clarissa’s vanity table. Lost in his own madly swirling thoughts, he had spent most of the morning sitting here as his mother methodically transformed him into her vision of an adorably prissy little princess. Every so often, he would think about his soiled pajamas in the hamper and cringe again. He felt like he was being slowly pulled up some kind of horrible roller coaster, and a big frightening drop was approaching inevitably. With his back to the mirror, the sissified twelve year old could not see what his mother was doing to his hair, but he knew it was going to be horribly adorable and sweet. She was applying her finishing touches now. It was almost one o’clock. Soon it would be time to leave for Elizabeth’s party.
Earlier, as soon as he had showered, he had returned to Clarissa’s room in his white satin bathrobe. On his bed, his mother had laid out some clean pink satin panties and a pair of pale pink tights. Compliantly, Mike pulled on his panties under his robe. As he next pulled up the heavily ruffled tights over his panties, the unwelcome tingling returned. Once he had gotten his tights on, his mother had eagerly ushered him onto the stool next to the ultra-feminine vanity table and announced, “We have a lot to do!” She had flung her nylon beautician’s cape around him and fastened it snugly. “Let’s get started, honey,” she said, “you’re going to be so pretty today!” He recalled how she had caressed his damp hair lovingly. Then, his emotions still raw, the feminized boy had sat helplessly in his robe and ruffled tights as his mother set to work.
She had sprayed his damp hair thoroughly with a solution in a little bottle. Next, he was unpleasantly surprised when she had picked up a little pink foam curler. This was not something Clarissa normally did. As his mother had begun rolling it tightly into his hair, a worried look had crossed his face.
Seeing his nervously questioning eyes, his mother had smiled down and said, “I’m going to give my little princess an extra special hairstyle today!” As she had securely pinned the first curler into place, she added, “You’re going to just love it I know!”
Another little jolt had tingled in his panties. “Thank you Mother,” he had replied meekly, “I can’t wait.” He watched in dismay as she grabbed the next pink curler.
After several minutes, she had all his curlers in place. She had spun him around to the mirror, and he had seen that his brunette hair was now a mass of tightly wound pink curlers. He worried more about what she had planned. After that, it was time for his dress. Excitedly, she had then gotten him snugly fastened into his princess outfit for the party with all the new alterations. It was truly over-the-top girly… even beyond what he had been expecting. His mouth had dropped when she brought out his shoes. He had never seen them before, and they were breathtakingly sissyish.
“I thought I’d surprise you with these,” she had said adoringly, “I ordered them while you were taking ballet but you never got a chance to wear them.” Smiling as she had him slip his tighted feet into his darling new shoes, she asked leadingly, “But I think it was worth the wait, don’t you Clarissa?”
“Ye—Yes Mother they are so pretty,” Mike gulped reluctantly.
Once he’d been put into his dress and shoes, he was quickly back on the stool again with the nylon cape protecting his pretty clothes. Of course, his mother had used some of his new makeup on him. “Young girls shouldn’t wear much makeup at all,” she pronounced, “but a little bit tastefully applied for special occasions is fine.” Finally, she had used her hair dryer set on low to finish drying his hair and then carefully removed all his curlers.
Now, after all her methodical work, she fussily teased and combed his hair just so, using generous amounts of styling gel, hairspray and a few bobby pins to achieve the look she wanted. Finally, as she adjusted his last curl delicately into place, she said with a satisfied look, “I think that does it, dear.” Carefully removing the nylon cape, she looked on adoringly as Mike stood up with a little wobble. “Have a look, Clarissa,” she said as she gestured to the full-length mirror.
When Mike tentatively stepped to the mirror and took in his exceedingly girlish reflection, he couldn’t help but let out a little sissyish gasp.
Seeing his reaction, his mother said sweetly, “I know dear… you look absolutely precious!” She added gaily, “As I promised Mrs. Smalls yesterday in the car, I’ve made certain you look your ‘Princess Best.’’’ Then she asked him, “Well honey, what do you think?”
Surveying his extraordinarily feminine reflection, Mike softly replied, “It’s my ‘Princess Best.’” Out of habit, he gently swished his skirt and petticoat which generated another little tingle.
It was time to go.
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I doubt Mike's in any frame of mind to think of this, but at least there's no chance of his friends recognizing him. In fact, I doubt anyone would ever suspect sweet Clarissa in her princess best of being a boy.
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Andlat makes a valid point but fate has a habit of nasty surprises. What if one of the party goers has an older sister either chaperoning or picking her younger sibling up from the party and the older sibling, whose connection to the young party attendee was previously unknown, just happens to know Mike from school or through her brother? Could Clarissa be outed in some small way? Await the hand of fate - maybe!
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Oh !
To be O-U-T-E-D
The plot thickens more than those diapers !
I just love a story that an irresistible uncompromising situation is met full head on to the
amusement of the subject trying to escape attention !
Come out of the closet and show us what you are wearing - whoever you are !
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Babycakes makes a good point, but I think most people will see the dress and not the face of the boy wearing it. Maybe if someone recognized his mother, they'd put the pieces together, but I don't know if Mike's friends, say, are that good at logical thinking
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Thank you for the lovely comments and fun ideas. I'm grateful for all the interest and discussion about Clarissa's stories.
Each time Mike is thrust into a public setting, it seems the door cracks a little wider to potential full exposure. I had fun writing the part where his mother added those initial girlish touches to his outfit in the car while his friends played nearby. I liked wondering how far she could go to make him look girly but still keep him somewhat passable for a boy.
In any event, the final part is almost done, so you'll soon see how this particular episode of her story ends.
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PART 8
Mike minced sheepishly behind his mother into the Smalls’ backyard for Elizabeth’s party. There were a couple of breezy white canopies set up in the yard with plenty of festive pink and purple decorations all around… just what you’d expect at a birthday party for a little girl. He had practically scurried from the car to get away from view of anyone passing in the street. He’d scarcely had time to put his pretty gift bag on a small table with all the other presents when he heard a squeal of delight.
“Clarissa!” he heard Elizabeth gush, “Oh my gosh you came! And you look so pretty!” Wearing a darling purple princess dress with glittery sequins, Elizabeth rushed over to hug him. “Your dress is perfect!” she said admiringly.
Blushing already to be greeted so enthusiastically, Mike was painfully conscious of how absolutely girlish he was. In the car, he had been trying to plan the right things to say. After a moment, he regained his composure enough to stammer his reply, “Oh thank you Elizabeth! Happy birthday! Your dress is so cute too!”
Mike saw there were about twelve girls there in all, and they were all dressed in fancy dresses and sparkly outfits. “Just like me,” he thought ruefully. He also realized that he seemed to be older than any of the other guests. To his chagrin, he next recognized Molly and Mary from his ballet class were there too in their own cute party dresses. They knew his secret! He was fairly sure Elizabeth didn’t know as she was a bit younger, but the twins had figured it out quickly during their classes. Mary’s dress was a dark green and Molly’s was a pretty royal blue. Catching his eye, Molly winked at him impishly but didn’t say anything. Mary just gave him a knowing smile.
In moments, Mike was surrounded by a gaggle of younger girls dressed as princesses. He stood self-consciously while Elizabeth proudly introduced Clarissa as one of her “ballet buddies” and they all marveled at how cute his outfit was. He felt like climbing under a rock, but his mother watched this display with a pleased look. Her petticoated son was awash in a multicolored sea of the most girlish, glittery outfits imaginable, and he fit right in. It was so nice to see Clarissa with all the other little girls. Her discomfited preteen son made a darling little princess!
Thanks to his mother’s efforts, his brunette hair was now an adorable mass of tightly wound ringlet curls. His springy curls cascaded playfully with every movement, and the childish hairstyle made him look like a much younger girl. His subtle makeup was beautifully done. He sported some lovely pale pink lip gloss and a just visible touch of light pink blush. His mother had added a smidge of very light coral eye shadow to make his eyes look especially dewy. She had also brushed his eyebrows with some of her clear eyebrow gel to keep them nicely groomed. Of course, she had also retouched his pretty bubblegum pink nails to make sure they remained picture perfect.
And his dress! Mike’s pastel pink princess dress was a vision of girlishness. Its top was made of a stretchy light pink material like a sleeveless leotard that clung closely to his narrow torso. The clingy top was almost completely covered with dazzling pink sequins that shimmered with his every move. The stretchy top had narrow spandex shoulder straps which hugged his shoulders closely. The sleeves, of course, were the highlight. The shoulders were adorned with elaborate, multi-layered pink tulle puffs that continuously tickled Mike’s upper arms. His mother had been dissatisfied with the original single layers of tulle and had added generous amounts of the shimmery pink fabric to make them truly exquisite. Now, his slender arms were practically swallowed up by the darling multilayered flutter sleeves she had created. His mother had also paid close attention to his lovely ribbon sash and waist bow. Now, the large and elaborate pink satin bow she had crafted was sewn in the front center of a new wide satin ribbon sash. The sash snugly encircled his slim waist for a wonderfully girlish silhouette.
His baby pink satin skirt ended just at his knees and showcased a beautifully feminine border hem detail. The skirt poofed out gorgeously thanks to the elaborate petticoat playfully peeking out underneath. Oh his petticoat! It was an incredibly fancy multilayered tulle petticoat which his mother had made some time ago. She called it his “special occasion” petticoat. Each of its five full layers of netted tulle was trimmed at the bottom with a band of matching pink satin that made his entire look simply reek of femininity. In contrast to his fluffy skirt, his pale pink ruffled tights closely hugged his slender legs and made him look so delicate. Finally, his new shoes were an adorable pair of glittery pink ballet flats that sparkled in the afternoon sunshine. The sparkly pink flats had dainty little bows on top and just screamed “Sissy!” From head to toe, the feminized boy was truly his “Princess Best!”
In no time, Clarissa was fully immersed in all the girlish party activities. Mrs. Smalls had set up a craft table with glittering costume tiaras for every girl. There were loose rhinestones and some craft glue as well, and the girls were soon busily personalizing their tiaras. At Elizabeth’s insistence, Mike added several rose pink rhinestones to his tiara to match his dress. While the glue on their tiaras dried, all the girls next picked out jewelry from a large pile of costume jewelry Mrs. Smalls had provided.
Seeing that Mike was hesitating, Molly decided she would help him pick out his jewelry. Soon, Mike wore a sparkly jeweled necklace, some lovely clip-on earrings, two glittery pink bracelets and a couple of rings. As she helped him slide the shiny rings on his delicate fingers, she remarked, “I love that pretty pink nail polish… Clarissa!” All the girls had wonderful fun choosing their own “crown jewels” and helping each other get dressed up.
Then, it was time for what Mrs. Smalls called the “Royal Court.” Elizabeth, of course, was to be the highest ranking princess as the birthday girl. Her mother had her sit on an elevated chair that she called her “Princess Throne.” Then, Mike’s mother handed Mrs. Smalls the tiara for Elizabeth, and Mrs. Smalls proclaimed that she was now “Princess Elizabeth the First” as she crowned her. All the girls giggled and clapped excitedly at the show while Elizabeth smiled and blew them kisses.
Next, all the girls got to vote on who had the best princess outfit, and Mike had a sinking feeling. It had quickly become apparent to him that he was dressed more elaborately than anyone else at the party. All the girls wrote their votes on slips of paper and dropped them in a little white basket. As Mrs. Smalls tallied the votes, she told them the winner would get to be Princess Elizabeth’s Lady in Waiting! A minute later, Mike groaned inwardly when Mrs. Smalls announced the results. Hoping against hope, he had voted for Molly, but apparently no one else did.
“My, it seems the vote was nearly unanimous!,” she said excitedly, “Clarissa, dear, please come up to the Princess Throne!”
Embarrassed, Mike slowly gathered his multilayered skirts and stepped reluctantly to stand in front of Elizabeth as all the other girls looked on excitedly. All the layers of his elaborate petticoat whirled noisily with each dainty step, and his ringlet curls bounced happily around his face with every turn of the head. Then, he saw his mother gesturing at him. At once, he knew what she wanted. Sighing softly, the heavily petticoated preteen dropped into a graceful curtsey and said, “Hap—Happy Birthday, Princess Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth clapped with glee and said happily, “Thank you. That was so sweet!” Then, Mrs. Smalls passed her Clarissa’s tiara from the table. “I now crown you as Princess Clarissa!” Elizabeth said with a giggle. Mike’s mother happily stepped in to assist her. When his mother stepped back, Princess Clarissa’s gleaming princess tiara was pinned securely in her preciously ringleted hair. Red-faced, Mike turned to face all the other girls with his new tiara as Elizabeth added, “I give you Princess Clarissa, my new Lady in Waiting!” All the other girls started clapping again. Nervously, Mike could see Molly and Mary leading the way with the applause.
Mike felt like such a huge sissy as he tried to plaster a smile on his blushing face. His petticoats rustled ceaselessly. He couldn’t help but reflect on how rapidly his week had deteriorated. Yesterday, he had been playing frisbee in the park with the guys. Today, he was playing princess dressup with the girls. He cringed inwardly as he thought again about his dream. This all seemed more like a nightmare now.
As Princess Elizabeth’s Lady in Waiting, Mike had to help her crown the other girls as princesses, passing her each girl’s tiara when it was their turn. After watching Mike’s example, they all curtseyed as well. Seeing his mother’s gestures again, Mike curtseyed back to each of them too. So the next few minutes were a steady procession of delightful curtseys and tiaras for the sissified boy. He saw unhappily that his mother was recording a video of the whole scene on her phone. There was a moment of enhanced tension when he helped crown Princess Molly. After she had her tiara, she gave him a silly grin and impulsively kissed him on the cheek. As she pulled away, she whispered softly so only he could hear, “You’re so cute… Princess Mike!” His tingling returned and he blushed furiously as all the other girls tittered.
After all the girls were finally crowned, they posed sweetly in their new tiaras as Mrs. Smalls took lots of photos of the Royal Court. Incredibly self-conscious, Mike saw his mother busily snapping photos too. Glumly, he knew they would soon wind up in Clarissa’s memory books.
“Princess Clarissa,” she called gaily, “everyone but you is smiling.” She then added with a barely detectable note of impatience, “Give me a big pretty princess smile honey!”
Hearing that, Mike reddened as he had a sudden and unhappy flashback to that awful photo of Clarissa in her pink Easter dress from years ago. Having no desire to repeat that episode, he quickly put on the sweetest smile he could muster. Meanwhile, Princess Elizabeth laughed and hugged him again when she heard his mother calling to him.
“I’m Clarissa,” he reflexively thought. “No,” he corrected himself dispiritedly, “today I’m Princess Clarissa.” The delicate layers of his fluffy petticoat swished again delightfully.
It would soon be time for the cake and presents. As the new Lady in Waiting, Princess Clarissa would have more lovely court duties to perform…
THE END
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A happy ending for Princess Clarissa, but poor Mike! It's nearly impossible to feel even slightly masculine in that veritable sea of femininity, but he still tries his hardest to hold back from it. Admittedly admirable, but kind of in vain. Mom keeps mentioning petticoat punishment, but I think she just really likes having the best of both worlds. A son and a daughter in one.
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Thanks Andlat. I always enjoy reading your reactions and comments!
I think Mike's real fear is that he likes it too much. But you're right, much more is going on with his mother than just punishment. I try to keep it light but there's darkness there if you think too much about it. Still, that's not really any different than some of the classic fairy tales we all grew up with LOL.
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sissyboy1212,
I am catching up and want to thank you for another wonderful Clarissa story.
I have a couple of ideas for future Claissa stories.
Now that Mike is starting to have puberty stirring, Carol will certainly notice the residue on his nightclothes. She won't want such residue spoiling Clarissa's finery, so the next time Clarissa visits, will there be pink locking chastity involved and regular mother and Clarissa visits to the most humiliating retail store for Clarissa to purchase pads? To keep up appearances, won't Clarissa make these feminine supply purchases on schedule every month?
In addition, isn't this the time in a girl's life that breasts are starting to show, which would mean a fitting for a training bra?
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Take it where YOU want to take it. That's the beauty of this. It's yours. Your creativity. Surprise us.