Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Menu => Active Sissy Stories => Topic started by: DaraJaney on July 12, 2022, 01:03:02 AM
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Liam was really looking forward to the cup final. He had good tickets and his mother was bringing him in early so he could make the most of the day. She just had one job to check on first.
Despite the early hour, parking was already building up and she had to park a few blocks away from the studio. She had been asked by a work colleague to check that a photo shoot was all set up ready to go. Liam tagged along impatiently.
On their arrival her colleague’s assistant, Karen, was panicking. One of the girls hadn’t turned up. On checking, she found out that she’d had to go to hospital with suspected appendicitis.
“We can’t do this with only three girls!” Karen fussed. “The whole point of it is to have sets of four identical outfits modelled in different colours by four girls. This top photographer costs thousands for the day. We’re screwed.”
“It’s ok Karen”, his mother insisted. “We can fix this.” Liam knew his mother had a reputation for sorting out the most difficult problems. She thought about it. “Have you phoned any of the agencies for a replacement?” “I tried”, Karen responded, “they are all booked up and said that there was no way any replacement could make it in through the match traffic today anyway.”
Liam was checking his watch, anxious to get out of there and to the stadium. He noticed that his mother was looking at him. “Could he substitute?” Karen only looked at him for the briefest moment before discounting it. “These are outfits for 10-year-olds. What is he? 14, 15? Too tall anyway, regardless. The outfits would never fit him.”
Liam was amused that they would even consider it but none the less relieved that Karen had dismissed any notion of it. No way was he dressing like a girl! “I don’t know”, his mother persisted. “He’s slim. Let me talk to the photographer.”
Liam couldn’t believe she was even considering it. He watched as his mother and the photographer, looked him up and down. Eventually she came over. “The photographer says he can photoshop the photos to make it look like Liam is a similar size to the girls. It’s all being shot on a white background so it’s easy for him to play around with. He says they have to be all shot together to get the exact same lighting and so forth.”
“You cannot be serious!” Liam protested. “Would a thousand pounds change your mind?” his mother asked. Liam’s jaw dropped. Karen thought about it. “It’s a fraction of what we lose if we have to rearrange this.” “You’ve been saving up for flying lessons”, his mother reminded him. There was no way he was doing it but the money gave him pause for thought.
“Let’s see if the dresses come in a size that will fit him”, Karen concluded, rushing off to the storage area. “If they don’t then this conversation is academic.” Liam reckoned it was easier to let that take its course than try to argue with his determined mother.
Karen returned with a red polka dot dress with a Peter Pan collar and white trim on the sleeves. His mother went to pull off his replica football shirt. She quickly pulled the dress over his head, pushed his arms into the sleeves and pulled it down.
She struggled to zip it up and Liam smiled a little as it looked like he was going to be saved from any argument. But with another tug, suddenly the zip shot up to the top. Karen beamed. “It actually fits!” His mother smiled with satisfaction.
“No way!” Liam insisted but couldn’t reach the zip to get himself out of the tight dress. Karen was all busy-bee now that a solution to her predicament was at hand. “Each of the models must wear identical white opaque tights and black t-bar shoes”, she told them. “The idea is that the focus should be on the dresses.” She was pulling a pair of white tights out of a packet. Liam stared at them in disbelief. His mother took advantage of his distraction and unbuckled his belt and trousers, dropping them around his ankles.
“Stop!” But he was unbalanced and she was able to pull his trousers off and immediately started unlacing his shoes and pulling his socks off. “Please no!” But his mother was insistent. “Look, it’s amazing money for you and I’ll get huge kudos for helping them out of this bind.” She was pulling the white tights over his feet.
Karen helped and in seconds they were hauling the tights up under his dress and over his briefs. They both looked reasonably satisfied as they studied him. The dress was very short on him but photoshopping could fix that. Liam looked in the mirror and was appalled. There was a mirror behind him too so he only had to lean forward a little to be able to see that a big white bottom was exposed when he did that. “No way! This is way too short!” he insisted. “Look!” He leaned forward again. “I can fix that”, Karen interjected, running off.
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Looking forward to your next instalment. I wonder if Liam's mummy has gone to get him some pretty little girly frilly knickers to wear under his childish dress? I think the real little girls will just love seeing an older boy being treated like one of them.
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Liam’s mother got him sitting on a chair as she buckled the t-bar shoes on him. Karen returned and knelt beside her. Before he really noticed it, a pair of panties had been pulled over his feet and up his legs under his dress.
“There!” Karen concluded. Liam stood up, leaned forward and looked in the mirror. Two rows of frilly lace on his red panties peeked from under the hem of his dress. “That’s much worse!” he protested. “No, it’s much more respectable than showing a white bottom”, his mother insisted. He was about to protest further but was cut short by the appearance of two young ladies. “Hair and make-up for girls number 3 and 4!” they announced. “Oh!” They saw Liam in his dress.
“He’s afraid people will be able to see that he is a boy”, his mother updated them. They smiled and stepped forward, taking an elbow each. “Don’t worry! By the time we are finished with you, nobody will think you are a boy”, they giggled. Liam was even more worried now but he was hauled away while the ladies checked their clipboards which specified how each girl should look.
Girls 1 and 2 appeared fresh from hair and make-up. They looked like dolls in the expertly applied make-up and freshly styled hair. One had a bob cut and the other stiff waves.
Karen handed his mother a form. “Can you sign the contract as his guardian so I can make sure he is paid for this?” His mother happily signed, quite pleased that he was going to be well rewarded.
When Liam reappeared his mother was impressed. His doll face was accompanied by a mass of ringlets. “It took a ton of product but we got him there”, one of the young ladies told her proudly, checking off everything on the list on her clipboard. “Bet you’re sorry you didn’t get your hair cut like I told you to”, his mother teased him.
Liam couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to be going to cheer on his football team in the final but instead here he was in a short red polka dot dress, white tights and t-bar shoes, matching frilly panties, his hair pressed into tight ringlets and tied up with two big ribbons forming large bows. And he was about to be photographed like this!
The three girls wore the same polka dot dress but in different colours. They giggled at Liam as he tugged the hem of his short dress nervously but they were impressed at the job the hair and make-up ladies had done.
Karen clapped “let’s get started”. The four models were ushered into the studio and positioned in front of the white screens. Liam was several inches taller than the girls. His dress only barely covered his bottom while for the others they came almost to their knees. The photographer once again assured that this could be overcome.
They were made to pose in a zig zag line – standing upright, with right foot in front as if walking as well as several other poses. “Come on! Big smiles!” he pleaded. The three girls had no difficulty smiling, especially thinking about Liam in his pretty dress, tights and ringlets. Liam’s was more of a grimace.
“The sooner you cooperate, the sooner you’ll be done”, his mother whispered. Liam winced but realised she was right. He gave it his best shot and the camera starting clicking quickly as the photographer seemed satisfied. Liam could only think of the dozens of images being taken now of him in this sissy outfit. Where were they going to appear?
The photographer took breaks to check the photos. Liam’s mother looked at his lower leg. “Is there a thread caught on your tights?” she asked. Liam looked down. There was indeed a black thread. He bent down to remove it.
The girls behind him giggled. “Ooh pretty panties!” Liam stood upright again as quickly as he could. “Why does he get to wear matching frilly panties and we don’t?” they tittered. Liam’s red cheeks could be seen even through the heavy foundation.
“Right, next outfit!” Karen announced. Liam was relieved to get out of the polka dot dress but of course Karen was already presenting him with a yellow gingham dress. Once again it was a tight fit and he prayed the zip would not go up but eventually it did. “I’ve already found these”, Karen announced holding a pair of yellow panties with rows of white frills. “No! Do I have to?” Liam protested. “Of course you do”, his mother insisted, “you can’t be exposing your bottom in your short dress.” “But this is worse!” he complained. “Nonsense”, his mother persisted and pulled the panties up over his tights and under his dress. “When I was a little girl I had to wear short dresses with matching panties so it’s good enough for you.”
They repeated the series of poses in the gingham dresses. Liam did his best to force a smile to get this over with as soon as possible. “Do girls of ten really want to wear pretty dresses like those these days?” his mother asked Karen. “No of course not”, Karen agreed. “But grannies still love to buy them pretty dresses”, she explained.
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OMG!!!! I love love love this chapter.
I could actually imagine Liam squirming as the little girls taunted him about displaying his frilly knickers. And his mummy seems to be enjoying his humiliation to.
I think some of his next posed could be embarrassing if he was made to lose like a little girl playing with her dolly. Maybe a tea party scene of even worse changing the dolls wet diaper. Images what his football mates would say if he was discovered. Total humiliation, whatever happens to him I can't wait to see where your story goes.
Please write more soon.
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Perhaps the boy from the emotonal pressure of beng forced by his mother to dress like a little girl by his mother and then permantly photographed to end up being displayed someplace he does not know and cannot then trust might cause him to activate his mutant powers and jump him back in time in time to the studio stood in age of the dinosaurs dressed as a little girl where no more people can see him in his sissy dress. He will forced to with dinosaurs to survive while completly dressed as a little girl as a tragedy doomed one knowing he will surly die in the jurassic but never having the courage to return home and face his mother again.
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The models relaxed when the photographer went to check the photos. “We have lunch arranged in the café across the street”, Karen told them. “What? No!” Liam really didn’t want to go out in public like this but he was bustled out of the studio and down the stairs to the street.
He clutched his short dress against the wind blowing around the studio while they waited for a gap in the traffic. When one came they scampered across. He stumbled a little, unfamiliar with the little heels on his t-bar shoes and had to let go of his dress to steady himself. His hem fluttered up in the wind and the girls tittered as his panties were exposed again. He looked around nervously wondering who had seen among the pedestrians and drivers. He winced as a couple of car horns were hooted.
He managed to pull his dress down again before entering the café but he stood out like a beacon being taller than the girls and with his dangling ringlets tied up now in big yellow bows. The waitress arrived with raised eyebrows when catching sight of Liam. He could tell she was highly amused but too polite to comment. He clutched his short dress under his bottom as he slid into a booth and looked around nervously hoping nobody in the café had glimpsed his frilly panties.
When they returned to the studio the photographer said he was happy with the photos and they could change into the next outfit. Liam was given a sky blue dress with floral patterns and zipped in. Karen of course had managed to find matching frilly panties and at this point he realised that resistance was futile. He was going to miss the match and would spend the afternoon instead being photographed flouncing around in dresses. He tried to focus on the thousand pounds.
As he lined up with the girls, one asked “show us your pretty panties then” and they all giggled. Liam just glared at her and turned to face the photographer. “Never mind. I’m sure we’ll get a peek at some stage”, they tittered.
When the photographer was checking his shots, Liam felt a thirst. He picked his water bottle up from the coffee table. “There we go!” The girls all giggled as his sky blue frilly panties were revealed. Liam cringed.
When he got to his final dress he might have felt a little relieved except that it was a very sissy pink with lots of lace trim. He quickly pulled up the matching panties that Karen had found for him, anxious to get this over with.
They went through the usual poses and the photographer went off to check the shots. While they waited Karen announced – “and as an extra bonus girls, you get to keep the dresses you modelled!” The actual girls were not hugely excited about that – clearly they wouldn’t normally be seen dead in such sissy dresses. But then they were amused at the idea of Liam now owning four pretty dresses. “Don’t worry”, his mother tried to console him, “we can sell them on eBay and make more money!” He relaxed a little.
“So we’ll see you all again next week then”, Karen called out. “What?” Liam was puzzled. “Oh”, Karen was looking sheepish, “didn’t you know? There is a follow-up shoot next week – the same dresses but we’ll be shooting video.”
“What? No way!” It was bad enough having to do this once but twice? No way! “It’s in the contract your mother signed”, Karen informed them. His mother looked just as surprised. “Four Saturday shoots in fact”, Karen was clearly feeling a little guilty that she hadn’t explained this at the start but she had desperately needed a solution to the absent model.
“Sorry, I just signed without reading it as she said I needed to, to make sure you got paid”, his mother explained. “On the upside”, Karen said defensively, “you’ll get paid the same fee for each shoot.” His mother hoped this would impress Liam. It did give him pause for thought. He sighed heavily. Three more Saturdays being photographed or videoed wearing dresses! Three more thousand pounds. He wasn’t sure.
“You’ll get paid at the end”, Karen added, “but only if you complete the contract of course.” Liam couldn’t believe it. If he didn’t do the three other Saturdays he would get nothing for all this poncing around in four dresses today.
He couldn’t bring himself to agree but he didn’t object either. Karen pressed home her advantage. “They want a whole series featuring the same four girls, well, models” she corrected herself. “It’s critical to the look they are going for.”
His mother started to gather his three other dresses, presuming that it had been decided. “Of course you can keep the matching panties too”, Karen added, trying not to smirk too much. “Thanks. He’ll be wearing this dress home”, his mother told her. “What? No!” he protested. “Well if you wear your replica football shirt and trousers you are just going to look like a boy with pretty ringlets. Do you want that?”
Liam sighed heavily. He could see her point. “At least with your face made up you can pass for a girl. We’ll go and stay with Granny so none of your friends will see you. And you have three nice dresses to wear the other days.” Liam’s jaw dropped. “We’ll have to keep your hair in ringlets until next Saturday”, his mother looked to Karen for confirmation. “Yes, you’ll need to look exactly the same for that shoot.”
He couldn’t believe this. He was going to have to go to his Granny’s in this pink dress with matching frilly panties with his hair in ringlets and wear the other dresses during the week. He supposed he could just stay indoors all week. He tried not to think of the two Saturdays after that – if he could just convince them he didn’t need this mass of ringlets.
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Heh, heh. Three more shoots to go. Plenty of scope for serious embarrassment...
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On boy didn't see that coming. Looks like Liam is going to get plenty of practise in the next few weeks in how to be a proper little lady and not flash his knickers when bending or sitting.
I wonder if his mummy and granny will start to treat him more like the little girl he appears to be rather than the teenager he really is?
Please write more soon.
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lovely. perhaps he will grow to like his pretty dresses and adorable panties.
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You can't photoshop video so liam is going to be very himself in the videos shots except for makeup. i think might need the 4k to change schools if they show up in local tv ads. hard to escape national or internet ads. :) especially if videos ads end jup unintentional are funny weird and goes viral everyone sharing this video worldwide trying to show tallgirl in short dresses being so out of place and liams friends all link him the ad :)
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Ooh, this is developing nicely
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Karen put his other three dresses on hangers with transparent plastic protective covers over them. She had clipped the three pairs of matching panties to little hangers too.
“You’ll need more pairs of tights too”, she suggested tentatively. “Oh you are right thank you!”, his mother was pleased at the reminder. Karen took them to a box of various tights and his mother flicked through. “Oh look – lovely lace patterned tights! Would you prefer these floral patterns or the diamond shapes?” Liam just shrugged. The idea of wearing any tights was mortifying – did it really matter what type? Although he had to agree that the floral lacey ones were particularly sissy.
“Never mind, we’ll take both”, she decided, “and another pair of white opaque.” Liam now regretted not making a choice, ending up with two pairs of lacey tights.
He held his dresses in one hand and his matching panties in the other. His mother had her handbag and clutched the plastic bag with his boy’s clothes and new tights. They went down the stairs to the street. He felt sick having to walk down the street in a pink dress, holding three other pretty dresses and their matching panties in full view.
When they got to the street he realised that the plastic covers were very long and he would have to hold the dresses up to avoid getting the covers tangled in his feet. When he did so, his pink dress rode up revealing two lines of frills under the hem. His mother decided it was probably best if he didn’t know.
He squirmed as he started to walk down the street. The wind caused the large pink ribbons tying up his ringlets to flutter, reminding him of their presence too. He had only just started to walk when a noise emanated from the stadium and he realised that the final was over and the crowd was starting to leave.
He looked back, thinking of escaping back to the studio but he saw the photographer lock the door and walk off quickly in the other direction. There was no going back. He was going to have to walk through the football crowd in his pink dress, white tights, black t-bar shoes, ringlets and pink ribbons while holding up his red polka dot dress, yellow gingham dress, sky blue floral dress and the three pairs of matching frilly panties.
He was resigned to the fact that people were going to point and laugh but he eventually realised that they were all looking below the hem of his dress. It finally dawned on him that, in having to hold the dresses up, his frilly panties were showing. There was no option but to go on so he just steeled himself and continued on his parade through the crowd.
He was so relieved to get to the car but as his mother pulled away the realisation fully dawned on him that he was being driven off to his Granny’s with just four sissy dresses to wear.
His mother phoned ahead but his Granny still wasn’t quite prepared for the vision that was presented to her when Liam stepped out of the car. “Fetch the other dresses”, his mother told him. He reached into the car to get them. “Oh those matching frilly panties!” his Granny gushed. He sighed heavily. He really needed to get used to the fact that he couldn’t bend over at all without showing off his matching underwear.
Later, he was surprised how early his mother told him “you need to start getting ready for bed”. “Really?” “You need to tie up each of those ringlets tightly so they will still be good in the morning.”
He was incredulous. “What?” He sighed at this latest torture. “Oh you’ll have to. If you don’t do that they will be all tangled and crooked.” Liam cringed. His mother led him to her old bedroom and sat him down in front of the dressing table mirror. She fetched a box of white ribbons and showed him how to tie one of his ringlets up tightly.
“Now you try it.” It took him several goes to get the fiddly task right. “There you are!” Liam looked unhappily and what must have been about forty other ringlets that he would have to tie up. “I’ll leave you too it.”
Over an hour later he came back into the sitting room and they tried not to laugh at his mass of pretty white ribbons. He had put on the white night dress with tiny flowers that his mother had given him. It was actually the least sissy thing he had worn since this humiliation started.
His mother examined and found that he had missed a few ringlets at the back. She led him back to the bedroom and completed those for him. She found a plastic cap to fit over his tied up ringlets and keep them all compact and tidy overnight.
As he stepped into bed his mother said “I think the yellow gingham dress for church tomorrow.” “What? No please mum. Don’t make me go to church like this.” “You know Granny will insist that we can’t miss church for any reason. With the floral patterned tights I think.” She removed them from the packaging and draped them over the back of the chair. Then she placed the frilly yellow panties beside them. Liam stared dismally at his outfit for church the next day.
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Can there be any doubt he'll be quite a hit at church? Though I doubt he'll fit in with kids his age, be they boys or girls.
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I bet he is dreading church in his pretty frock. Maybe granny and mommy will let him play after church with some of his mommys old dolls as he isn't dressed for rough and tumble boys games like football anymore.
Looking forward to your next chapter.
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Liam didn’t feel any better about it, sitting in front of the mirror the next morning untying his ringlets. He could see his yellow dress for church in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. When he had untied his ringlets a few stuck out stiffly at odd angles. His mother plugged in a curling tongs. “Well you can imagine how it would look if you hadn’t tied them up. You can use this to whip them into line.” She twisted one of the errant ringlets around the hot tongs and held it for a while.
“You can do the rest”, she handed him the tongs. He sighed, not believing that he was doing this. But his ringlets did look even more stupid sticking out at odd angles. He worked on the three or four worst cases. But then there were a few others that were slightly out of kilter. He worked on them. It seemed no matter how many he worked on there was always another that then didn’t look right.
He pulled himself together. What did he care if his mass of ringlets wasn’t perfect? His mother returned and examined his work. “Very good.” She found a pair of thick yellow ribbons and started to tie his ringlets up in two big bunches. “Mum! Do you have to?!” “Aw come on, it looks really pretty and matches your dress.” She finished them off in two large bows despite his protest. “Now get dressed and come down to breakfast.”
He put the dress on, just about able to zip it up. He sighed heavily before taking the mortifying floral patterned lace tights. It took him several minutes to get into them – much harder than the thick opaque tights. Then he had to twist them and turn them so that the patterns didn’t look stupidly twisted. Again, he couldn’t believe this. Having spent ages fussing to get his ringlets just right, here he was now determined that his lacey tights should be correct. But his dress was so short and his legs so long that his floral tights really stood out.
He glared at the matching frilly panties. He really didn’t want to wear them. He knew though from bitter experience that it wouldn’t take long for his mother to detect if he wasn’t wearing them. He groaned and stepped into his frilly panties, pulling them up as high as he could over his tights.
Having buckled his t-bar shoes on, he left the room to go downstairs. When he reached the top of the stairs he saw his mother at the bottom looking up. He saw her look under his dress and smile. He supposed that if he hadn’t worn the frilly panties he would have been rumbled straight away.
He tried to make breakfast last as long as possible. His ringlets kept getting in the way and had to be held back as he tried to eat his cereal so that helped slow him down. But all too soon he was sitting in the car being driven to church. He hoped for a low turnout but his mother had to park so far away it was clear it was going to be a full service.
He tried to ignore the stares from everyone as he walked towards the church is his short yellow gingham dress, floral-patterned lacey tights and his ringlets tied up with two large ribbons. The best he could hope for was that they would not realise that he was a boy. He tried to flounce along girlishly but then grew concerned that would make his dress flutter and reveal his underwear. He was just grateful it was a calm day.
A group of teenage girls giggled. He didn’t know much about girl’s fashion but knew enough to know that his outfit was ridiculously juvenile for a ‘girl’ of his age. It was the group of tittering boys that worried him more. If they should get an inkling.
They went up the dozen or so steps to the church door. The clergyman was stationed at the top greeting the congregation. Thankfully he was one Liam had never seen before on their previous visits to his Granny which always included church. The clergyman engaged his Granny in an annoyingly long conversation while Liam grew increasingly concerned about the gusts whipping around the tall church.
He looked down the steps and saw the group of boys thumping each other and sniggering as they looked up at him. He had no doubt as to the view they were being accorded as the clergyman detained them at the top of the steps. He tried to clutch the hem of his dress as close as he could but his futile attempt to hide his frilly panties just seemed to amuse the boys more.
Eventually they were able to enter the church. His Granny insisted on marching all the way up to one of the front rows. Liam could feel all eyes on him as he scampered up the aisle after her. The service involved a lot of standing up, kneeling down, sitting back etc. Every time he stood up he had to tug the back of his dress down to be certain he wasn’t revealing any frills to the church behind him.
When they were leaving it took ages to get out of the church since they’d been in the front row. When he got to the top of the steps outside he saw the group of boys at the bottom looking up at him. He felt sick as he tried to scamper down the steps quickly, his hands clasped trying to keep the front of his dress down. But he could feel it flutter up at the back as he descended too quickly.
There were a couple of mocking whistles from the boys as he got closer which made him panic. He tried to rush down the last few steps but lost his footing and stumbled forward falling flat on his face. As he went to push himself up he realised the skirt of his dress was resting on his back. The boys were bent over laughing as the full extent of Liam’s yellow frilly panties were revealed.
He quickly got to his feet pushing his skirt down. His mother fussed over him whereas he just wanted to get away. “Wait, your bow has come loose.” She insisted he stand there while she retied the big yellow bow in his ringlets. He could feel his cheeks reddening. Then she wanted to check his tights, picking at bits of dirt caught in the lace before he could eventually slink away.
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Yep, that's pretty much what I expected! 😅
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Poor little sissy Liam things aren't going well for him today. ( Sniggers at sissys plight. )
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Liam should cut his hair short so the ringlets are gone. Then tell his mother he is done with contract and won't go back for the remaing sessetion be cause this is totally her fault not him. Maybe destroy the d resses with scissors first and guys clothes he brout home from the shoot.
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By Wednesday his mother decided that his ringlets needed renewing. She called to his Granny, “do you still have those heated curler pins?” An hour later Liam was sitting with his hair drenched in chemicals and rolled tightly onto curling pins that were heating up and restoring his ringlets to their former glory. He contemplated more evenings and mornings spending long periods tying up and resetting these ringlets. “We’ll find you some more suitable dresses for your age”, his mother tried to console him. “Greta, a few doors down, is about your age. I’ll ask”, his Granny added.
Greta tried not to laugh at his pink party dress, white tights and ringlets tied up in pink bows when they called to her. Liam was particularly mortified as it was clear she knew he was a boy. He was determined to try to keep his matching frilly panties a secret from at least one person.
Greta, on the other hand, was determined to use the opportunity to get rid of her most embarrassing dresses that she only had to wear when her mother insisted. She first presented them with a floral patterned dress with lace collar and trim but at least is was longer than Liam’s current selection of dresses.
His mother unzipped him without warning and quickly whipped his dress over his head, leaving him standing in just his frilly panties and tights. Greta couldn’t help laughing now. She handed him the dress. He was grateful to be able to put it on and cover his mortifying panties. The dress came to his knees though the skirt was heavily flared with deep pleats. “Gorgeous” his mother concluded. He was relieved to be in a longer dress.
Greta produced three more pretty but mercifully knee length dresses for him. Yes, they were pastel coloured and had pretty shaping but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Thank Greta for the loan of these lovely dresses dear”, his mother instructed him. “Oh you can keep them”, a very pleased Greta told him. “Are you sure?” his mother asked her. “Oh yes!” Greta confirmed. “Now dear, you are going to have quite a selection of dresses to wear”, his mother observed. “What do you say?” she prompted him. “Thank you for the dresses”, he said with little conviction. “The very pretty dresses!” his mother corrected him. He sighed. “Thank you for the very pretty dresses”, he tried to smile. Greta had no problem grinning back at him.
“Oh I nearly forgot”, she added rushing to the chest of drawers. “These lilac tights will go perfectly with that floral dress”. She produced a pair of lace-patterned tights that made Liam feel sick. His mother held them up to the floral dress. “Yes they really bring out the lilac flowers in the dress! Thank you.” She nudged Liam. “Thank you for the lilac tights”, he glared at Greta. She looked quite pleased with herself.
So the following Saturday Liam turned up for the photo-shoot wearing his new floral dress but mercifully not the lilac tights as the shoot called for all the models to wear the same white tights again. He had to carry his four modelling dresses on hangars but the matching frilly panties were fortunately concealed in a hold-all. His mother insisted he had to wear them again for the photo-shoot ‘for the sake of decency’ and since Karen ‘had gone to so much trouble to find them for him’.
What they wanted to do was take video to complement the photos. They were going to simulate the dresses being worn for a birthday party. So the studio was decorated with balloons and bunting and full of extra girls and boys to make up a birthday crowd.
His three accomplices saw him when he entered. “Oh that’s a pretty dress!” they teased him. “Has his hair been in ringlets since last week?” they giggled. Some of the boys heard this and realised this was a boy in a floral dress, white tights and his hair in ringlets! Kids started whispering to each other and pretty soon everyone knew that the tallest ‘girl’ in the room was actually a boy.
So Liam felt extra mortification when he had to walk out in his very short red polka dot dress, cringing at the thought that it was just a matter of time before everyone knew he was also wearing matching frilly panties. He could see that his three accomplices were angling to try to confirm if he was wearing them. From the way he kept tugging his hem down nervously they were sure he must be.
Photos were relatively easy to doctor to make him fit in with the younger girls but video was a different matter. Still, the videographer was confident that, with the careful use of close-ups and acute angles he could ensure that 14-year-old Liam would not look out of place with the 10-year-old children.
He was doing quite well until the cameraman suggested he blow out candles on the birthday cake. There was laughter behind him as he leaned forward towards the cake on the table. He cringed. And now pretty much everyone knew that he had matching frilly panties for all of his short dresses. So every time he appeared in another dress he could see everyone imagining what these matching panties would look like and his dresses were so short it was inevitable that they would not have to imagine for too long.
Karen gathered the models around at the end of the shoot to thank them all. Liam was just anxious to get into his longer floral dress. Karen announced, excitedly, “So next week we will have you back to model pageant dresses!” Liam’s jaw dropped.
But there was no way out of it. They had received no payment yet and had to comply with the contractual call-backs if it was not all to be in vain. So Liam spent another week in his dresses, caring for his sausage curls.
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I winder if Liam will begin asking for girls clothes to be bought for him (jeans, t shirts etc) that would be slightly more acceptable to wear, and if this request comes back to haunt him
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On Monday his mother announced that they had been invited to his cousin Amy’s 6th birthday party. “Which of your four party dresses do you want to wear?” his mother asked him. “Please Mum, don’t make me go!” he begged. “Well we are certainly going and I’m not leaving you home alone.”
Liam squirmed in front of the hall mirror in his red polka dot dress. His mother insisted that he wear his pretty floral patterned lace tights. One of his red bows in his ringlets was slightly askew and he reached up to straighten it, revealing a row of frill on his red panties as his dress rode up. Before he would have tugged his dress down immediately but he was becoming accustomed to this occupational hazard and took the time to straighten his bow.
Sitting in the back of the car he contemplated the fact that his cousins and aunt would know he was a boy in a sissy dress but would the other guests? As they approached the house there was a lady at the door handing a party pack to a presumably six-year-old on arrival.
“Oh look you’ll get a party pack”, his mother told him. He muttered “I’m too old for that!” “You’re not dressed too old for it”, she reminded him. His mother stopped in front of the door to make sure the lady gave him a party pack. The lady was clearly wondering about this girl who looked tall enough to be a teenager but was dressed like a 6-year-old.
When they went in his mother prompted him to check out his party pack. He looked in and saw a doll, feather boa and sparkly tiara. He tried to put the bag away but his mum tugged out the boa and put it around his neck. She took the tiara and worked it into the front of his ringlets. She handed him the doll and crumpled up the bag so he couldn’t put it back again.
She steered him through to the garden unhappily clutching his new doll. Amy’s 16-year-old sister Brenda saw him and smiled hugely. Liam squirmed in his red polka dot dress. She was highly amused by his lacey tights and ringlets. “Hello Laura!” she greeted him. His mother smiled, hearing for the first time the girl’s name they had agreed in advance. He was relieved that Brenda was not giving away his true gender as the garden was crowded.
He looked around. A few little girls in party dresses with their boas and tiaras were having a doll’s tea party making full use of their party packs. A woman dressed as a Disney princess was supervising them. Liam squirmed – that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Out on the lawn girls, some of whom who looked older and were generally dressed in shorts or trousers were running around kicking a ball. It was obvious from the look on his face that’s where he wanted to be. “Oh dear no”, Brenda grabbed his arm. “No football for you in your pretty party dress and lacey tights.” She tugged him towards the doll’s tea party.
He resisted desperately but the princess saw him and, trying not to giggle too much at his juvenile appearance, greeted him. “Oh look girls we have another taker for our tea party. What a pretty dress!” Liam squirmed but it was now only going to cause a scene if he refused. There was no doubt that he fitted in best with the little girls in their pretty party dresses and dolls – even if he was twice as tall as any of them.
He was steered towards one of the little plastic child’s chairs. He sat down carefully. It was really low and his knees stuck up higher than his bottom. He desperately tried to tug his dress down but was sure his panties must be showing. He saw Brenda’s hand go to her face as she looked below his dress and she desperately tried to supress a laugh. Liam cringed.
The princess prompted him to bring a little tea cup to his doll’s mouth. What choice did he have? He tipped the empty cup up daintily. “Oh look at the doll’s tea party!” A large group of mothers came out of the house clutching glasses of wine. Liam squirmed, again trying to tug his dress down as they surrounded the tea party. Camera phones came out and they snapped happily. Liam winced. He could see mothers looking at him and nudging each other with raised eyebrows wondering about the big girl in the sissiest dress and frilly panties.
He looked enviously at the other girls running around the garden, one of whom climbed a tree and hung upside down from a branch. How he’d love to do that but then visualised how that would look if he did it in this dress and matching panties. The view everyone would get! Although he was pretty sure everyone had at least glimpsed his underwear by now. Anyway, he’d definitely snag his lacey tights if he even attempted to climb the tree. He looked down checking that his tights were ok and the floral pattern wasn’t skewed or anything. Ugh! He had to stop thinking like that!
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Brilliant edition to your story. Liam must be mortified having to play tea parties with the little ones. Will princess Liam name his dolly I wonder.
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The pageant dress shoot came around. When he walked into the dressing room he saw four very frilly, very poufy dresses hanging there waiting for him. Karen was quick to reassure him. “They are going to be short on you again – nothing we can do about that – these are the largest sizes. But I had the ladies in the factory make matching panties specially for you!”
She produced four pairs of panties that matched the four dress colours. “For each one, they used the same material as the dress and the same lace as the trim on the dresses”, she told him, quite pleased with herself. Liam felt sick. “How good of you to go to all this trouble”, his mother smiled. “You must thank the ladies for us.” “Oh they loved doing it”, Karen assured her. “But they did ask if we could send them pictures.” “Of course!” his mother agreed. Liam was stunned. Pictures? Showing him wearing all these matching frilly panties?! No way!
“They also made this special pettislip”, Karen added, holding up multi-layered petticoats attached to a white camisole top. “He’s not quite the right shape, is he? Ordinary petticoats would sit too low on him whereas these will be held up nicely to match the short dresses.” Liam sighed heavily again.
Soon he was in his pink pageant dress, massively poufed out by his pettislip, desperately trying to push down the organza layers. But the brand new petticoats resisted all attempts and sprang back to fullness immediately.
The four of them had to go through the full range of poses as before so they could come up with a consistent style for this project. They then had to do some extra poses appropriate to pageant dresses, holding their arms out with their hands bent out at the wrists daintily, holding his petticoats out and freezing in a curtsey. Liam was relieved when they were done with the first dress.
Back in the dressing room his mother had her own camera. “Now one for the ladies at the factory.” She made Liam turn his back, bend forward and look over his shoulder so the ladies could see him wearing the matching frilly panties. “Smile!”
Before he could take the pageant dress off, Karen came in with the photographer. “There’s some interest in providing matching panties as an optional extra for the dress. We need to take some photos.” She took Liam’s arm and his mother took the other and before he could take in what was happening they had him bending over the dressing table and were holding his petticoats up so the photographer could capture the whole panties. “Just a few more angles”, the photographer said and Liam was held there while the camera flashed and flashed.
“Mum!” he protested when the others had left. “It’s not like your face is in the shots so nobody is going to recognised you”, she countered. He took some solace from that.
For each of the three other pageant dresses he had to pose for the photographer, then let his mother take the shots of him showing his panties for the ladies at the factory and then bend over and hold up his petticoats for a series of shots of the full panties in which he kept his face firmly out of sight.
Finally his mother suggested “you must thank the ladies at the factory for making the matching frilly panties just for you”. “What, no way!” His mother clutched his floral dress in a plastic bag. “Would you like to wear that pageant dress home?” she threatened. Liam sighed heavily.
She had a thank you message prepared for him. He smiled at the camera as best he could “thank you ladies for the pretty matching panties – the lace frills are beautiful”. He had to reach right under his layers of petticoats and curtsey holding them out in a flourish so that his peach panties peeked a little. His mother handed him back his floral dress.
When he had changed back and went back out to the studio, the photographer had created a montage and was projecting it on the wall. There were eight photos. In the four on the top row Liam was wearing each of his pageant dresses. Underneath each one was a shot of him showing the full extent of the matching frilly panties. There was no doubt for anyone seeing the montage that he was wearing and showing off his frilly panties. His fellow models giggled at the display.
“Again, you can keep the dresses you modelled”, Karen announced. “You now have a dozen dresses” his mother teased him, already packing his four new pairs of panties.
“In fact, you will need one of them next week”, Karen continued, “because we have entered you all in a pageant so we can take videos of the dresses in action!” Liam’s jaw dropped yet again. “This will definitely be the last shoot”, Karen assured them. “Then you will be paid. You’ll need this.” She handed his mother a false ID card for Liam giving his age as under-11 and his name as Laura. “Otherwise they may find it hard to believe he's a ten-year-old girl”, she giggled.
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Thanks Dara for this latest update I really enjoyed it.
Liam now has been made officially a ten year old with a proper ID. Perhaps mommy should make his bedtime earlier than it used to be before he was put in dresses. Just in case he might watch something on tv which would be inappropriate for a little 10 year old sissy boy.
Little girly boys like Liam need their beauty sleep don't they.
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The next day they heard that the models had to attend Mrs Pritchard’s School of Deportment to practice for the pageant. Liam was put through his paces in his pink pageant dress and petticoats, his freshly reset ringlets tied up in bows. Mrs Pritchard insisted that he flounce around with his hands held out daintily above his petticoats. He was sure that this must be giving everyone flashes of his frilly panties, especially as she made him twirl when turning to go back. “Stop pressing down on your petticoats dear”, Mrs Pritchard scolded him. The girls were giggling a lot but that might just be the sight of a 14-year-old boy mincing around in a pageant dress with his hair in ringlets.
“Now for your talents”, Mrs Pritchard announced. One of the girls said she could tap-dance, another was a good singer and the third could play the guitar. Liam shrugged when asked about his talent. “He can sing”, his mother cut in. “Well with those ringlets there’s really only one song you can sing”, Mrs Pritchard insisted. “Mary, fetch that Stand Up and Cheer costume.”
The Shirley Temple costume had to be let out a bit to fit Liam but Mary turned out to be talented with the needle. So wearing the white dress with red polka dots, Liam was drilled in dancing and singing to The Good Ship Lollipop. Unenthusiastically at first, but then he was told he wasn’t going home until he got it right.
At the pageant, he lined up in the middle of the row of girls awaiting their turn to go on stage. Again, he was six inches taller than any of them. He could see the ladies at the registration desk still closely examining the scan of his ID card. His three co-models were also in line grinning at the knowledge that the other competitors didn’t have.
“Laura Long” was called and Liam took a deep breath and flounced out onto the stage. The stage was a good metre higher than the audience and he so wanted to push down his petticoats but held his hands out daintily. There was an audible extra murmur of comments from the audience as he walked out, no doubt surprised at the ‘girl’s’ height and very short dress.
The MC brought him closer to the front of the stage than he would have liked. He could see ladies in the front rows, smiling and nudging and whispering to each other. He was sure his lace frilled pink panties must be visible from that angle. He answered the questions with his best squeaky girl’s voice and was so relieved to get back off stage.
But it was only to change into his Shirley Temple costume for his talent spot. He didn’t like at all how enthusiastic the applause was when he minced out in his polka dot dress clutching a giant plastic lollipop. With all the twirling involved in his dance routine there was no point in attempting to hide the red frilly panties from the first dress he modelled which his mother decided matched this dress perfectly.
The final line-up of under-11 contestants just emphasised again how much taller he was and how much shorter his dress was compared to other contestants.
The third placed contestant was announced. He gave a little sigh of relief that it wasn’t him. “And in second place, Laura Long”. He tried to smile as he minced to the front of the stage to have the sash placed over his dress. He stood to the side as the winner was announced, relieved at least that the attention was taken off him.
His fellow-models were tickled that he had been deemed a prettier pageant girl than them. Karen was pleased that one of their dresses had been a prize-winner.
Liam just wanted to get out of there but standing between them and the exit was a man smiling at them. “Well done on second place!” he congratulated Liam who tried to smile and take it gracefully.
“So what school do you go to?” the man asked pointedly. Liam’s mother was flustered. She couldn’t give his secondary school’s name but hadn’t a prepared answer. “St Claire’s” his granny pipped up just in time, giving the name of her local primary school.
“Really?” the man responded. “I’m a school inspector and as it happens I’ll be visiting St Claire’s this week. I’ll see you there I suppose.” Liam was stunned. He looked at his mother.
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yay liam gets to go to school near Granda's house :) maybe she can claim he got eaten by a wolf and drop his boy school registry and get your pageant people to put laura is school at newplace :)
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On boy Liam will now have to wear a schoolgirl uniform how embarrassed he is going to be. I hope he is made to play in the netball team with his new little girlfriends.
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Oh - those netball skirts are so neat and just the right hem length to be so cool !
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“It’s just until the inspector visits”, his mother tried to reassure Liam, who sat in the back of the car in his pink gingham primary school dress, white tights and ringlets tied up in matching pink gingham ribbons.
Of course, even the largest size primary school uniform was very short on him but his mother was content that he now owned a couple of pairs of pretty pink panties that matched it quite well.
He climbed out of the car outside of the school, looking glumly at the gaggle of little girls that he was now going to be part of. He was given into the care of Sister Rita who knew his granny well and gave a wink as she took charge of the teenage boy in the dress. Liam tugged the short hem of his pink gingham dress as he watched his mother drive away.
He had to endure three days as a school girl before the inspector finally turned up. Break times were the worse. The girls wanted to play their sissy games and insisted that ‘Laura’ take part. He insisted that he couldn’t skip but the girls swung a long rope and lined up to take turns, two of them taking Liam’s arms and holding him in the line.
He had little choice but to jump when it was his turn to skip and he was shoved into the vicinity of the swinging rope. Of course the short flared hem of his school dress fluttered up and Liam desperately tried to hold it down and avoid exposure of his frilly pink panties.
It was only then he noticed behind him that the school adjoined the boys’ primary school and little boys started gathering at the boundary wall watching him skip. He was left in little doubt from the sniggering that he was giving a good display. He wanted to stop but was afraid of being tripped by the fast swinging rope. He was sure he was being forced to take a longer turn than any of the girls had. When he was finally freed, he noticed that the boys at the wall were watching him closely, no doubt hoping for more flashes of his frilly knickers. He knew he was under close scrutiny from the other school every break after that.
On the second day, he was sent to school with a netball uniform in his bag. That afternoon he stood on the court in his very short pleated sky blue netball skirt. His only consolation was that he got to wear plain sky blue panties with it. He looked enviously at the boys across the wall running around after a football while he clutched his skirt against the wind.
He hoped to minimise his participation in the netball game by telling the PE teacher that he’d never played before. However, that led to her insisting that he take dozens of practice runs jumping towards the net and trying to score. Of course his short pleated skirt fluttered up every time on his descent but she insisted he try again and again. His dancing ringlets amused the little girls too, reminding him he was far too old for such a juvenile hair style.
So while he was nervous when the inspector turned up, it did mean an end to this latest humiliation flouncing around as a little school girl. “Do you know that Laura here is a fine singer and dancer”, the inspector asked the teacher, Miss Jones. “Really?” “Oh yes, you really must have her sing The Good Ship Lollipop in the annual Christmas show.” “Oh we’ll definitely do that”, the teacher agreed, clearly pleased to have another act for her show. Liam wasn’t too bothered. He was out of here once this charade was over.
“I’ll look forward to seeing that”, the inspector said. “What are you planning for this class’s performance in the end-of-year show?” he asked the teacher. “Oh a ballet performance. The girls all have their pink tutus already and will be starting practice this Friday.” “Excellent, I’ll look forward to that too.” “You are so good to always come to our shows”, the teacher flattered him. “Oh I’d never miss them”, he emphasised, looking directly at Liam.
When the inspector was gone, Liam was just relieved that he wasn’t going to have to come to this school again tomorrow. Miss Jones came to his desk. “Here is a note for your mother giving the details of the dance shop that supplies our ballet costumes. It’s vital that all the girls have the same pink tutus, tights and ballet slippers.” Liam took the note without worrying. It was going in the bin when he got a chance.
He was keen to get away as his mother came to pick him up. “The inspector came”, he told her immediately, dying to finally get out of the mortifying dresses. “Oh good”, she responded. He froze when he heard Miss Jones behind him. “I’ve given Laura a note for you.” “Oh yes?” his mother kept up the act. “She’ll need a certain pink tutu for the end-of-year class performance. The note details the dance shop to buy it in.” “Right”, his mother responded but Liam could tell that she thought the note was irrelevant since he wasn’t staying.
“The inspector told us about Laura’s song and dance talent”, the teacher continued. She’ll have to do her Shirley Temple performance for us at the Christmas show.” His mother smiled “of course”, still unconcerned. “The inspector said he was really looking forward to it. He always comes to our shows – Christmas and end-of-year.” “I see”, his mother responded, seemingly more concerned now. The inspector was clearly suspicious.
Sitting in the back of the car Liam blurted out in frustration “you can’t make me go to school for a whole year as a 10-year-old girl!”, he insisted. “Don’t exaggerate”, she told him. He wondered had he misunderstood. “It’s only for about 10 months.” He was aghast. “That inspector is clearly suspicious. If you get caught out for impersonating a girl you could be in big trouble. Imagine being sent to correctional school with all the delinquent boys knowing you’d been dressed as a little girl in a pageant.”
That shut Liam up. “Now where is this dance shop?” his mother consulted the directions. Liam cringed in his pink frilly panties but shortly afterwards he was in the shop being fitted with a pink tutu, pink tights and pink ballet slippers. His tutu naturally had rows of pink frills across the seat and perky stiff netting to keep the skirt almost horizontal. With his dresses he had some chance of hiding the frills on his panties but with his new ballet outfit, they were going to be on permanent display.
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Well well sissy Liam looks like he is demoted to being a ten year old sissy for the whole school year.
His mommy will have lots of opportunities to take away things as a teenage boy he took for granted.
Mommy could have him join a brownie troop with his new girl friends. Images his shame trying to earn his sewing and knitting badges. Or she might take him to a store before Christmas to visit Santa with his list.
No more staying out late with the boys instead he will be tucked up in bed with a Disney princess nighty on, cuddling his dolly or teddy. Oh the shame he will feel.
I love this story please continue.
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DaraJaney, this is one of my favourite stories yet!
You paint such a picture! I'm already imagining it so vividly! I check back daily looking forward to the next chapter and what the you have in store!
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He is going to have to stay in dresses less he run into a new schoolmate randomly in boy stuff :)
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Ballet rehearsals started Friday. Many of the real girls were beginners anyway so Liam, cringing in his pink tutu and tights, wasn’t too out of place in that regard. Madame Suchet’s attention was spread over many of them as she stalked around with her stick encouraging them all to raise their leg, bend, whatever. Liam really only tried properly when she was close to him and was likely to tap his pink leg with her stick.
However, at the end of the interminable hour, she decided that Laura had to be cast in the central role being so much taller than the others. “You will stay for an extra hour each week for the extra practice you’ll need.” Liam squirmed in his pink tights as he tried to keep pressing his stiff netting down. He was now under the undivided attention of Madame Suchet for an hour while the girls gratefully changed into their clothes and scampered off giggling.
When he got home his mother seemed quite excited. “You know there is a whole circuit of local pageants held every other weekend”, she told his Granny. “Given his success, I’ve realised that we could make more money entering him in pageants than by selling off his dresses.”
“No way!” Liam insisted. “I’ve already entered you”, his mother informed him firmly. The following Monday evening he was back before Mrs Pritchard in his pink pageant dress for advice on how to win these pageants and not just come runner-up. “So these local pageants are a lot more tacky that the one he was entered in before. You’ll need to big-up on sparkle for one thing – sparkly tights, sparkly eyeshadow, sparkly lipstick, sparkly ribbons in his ringlets.”
Liam shifted uneasily hearing all this. “And you could really embellish those petticoats.” Liam cringed. His hands were resting on what he thought were already voluminous enough petticoats. “If you get a nice stiff lace sewn onto the hem of each layer of petticoat it will really pouf them out more. And then, would you go up on the stage dear?” she urged him. Liam climbed the five steps to the stage in her studio. “So you see the view the audience gets.” Liam tried to hold his petticoats down knowing only too well how his frilly pink panties must appear from down there.
“So if you use the same stiff lace on his panties, it will merge nicely into his petticoats and appear as one frilly mass. Then when he walks, it will look cute the way the lace on his panties moves within the circles of lace of his petticoats.” His mother smiled envisaging how that would look. Liam cringed as they planned to make his frilly panties a deliberate part of his show.
“It’s great that he looks like a teenager but is dressed like a six-year old”, Mrs Pritchard continued, as Liam squirmed even more hearing that said out loud. “What mother isn’t frustrated that her daughter stops wearing pretty dresses as she gets older. They love the idea of dressing them up prettily again even at an older age.”
“Oh and can we buy that Shirley Temple costume from you?” his mother asked, “that will be his talent for every show.” “Yes it’s just perfect as long as you are keeping his hair in ringlets.” Liam sighed at his future spending every evening tying up his ringlets and every morning resetting them.
“His red panties do go quite well with it but really you need properly matching white panties with red polka dots. I’m sure Mary can make you a pair.” So Liam had to hold up his petticoats and expose all of his frilly pink panties so Mary could take his waist measurement. A dozen girls burst through the doors for their class starting soon and Mary seemed to take an inordinate time making sure of his measurement while he had to stand there holding his petticoats up in front of the giggling girls.
So the following Saturday Liam went out on stage in his extra poufy petticoats – certain that the stiff lace made the petticoats sit even shorter on him. His powder pink sparkly tights went down a treat as did his socks that had three layers of lace with ribbons sewn on front and back. He could actually feel the wind resistance from the mass of lace circling his ankles.
Two enormous sparkly bows tied his stiffened ringlets up and his face was made-up as suggested with sparkly eye-shadow, sparkly lipstick and well-rouged cheeks. He could hear the murmur of appreciation as he walked out on stage. As predicted the mothers all smiled at this taller ‘girl’ dressed so prettily.
He had to endure the usual saccharine interview with the MC. He then braced himself before having to walk out on the catwalk that penetrated the audience. He could feel all eyes looking up under his petticoats as he stood there and, as Mrs Pritchard predicted, when he started walking there was another audible ooh from the mothers as the lace on his panties fluttered within the stiff lace of his petticoats.
When the contestants lined-up he got dirty looks from the others. Again, he was far taller than any, his dress was far shorter and his mother had succeeded in out-doing all the others in terms of sparkle and frills. He was not surprised that he won. There was going to be no stopping his mother now he thought as he desperately tried to smile clutching his winning trophy while walking out the catwalk again to the enthusiastic applause of the moms – especially those in the front rows.
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Hope liam does not start wetting the bed from the stress of living his worst nightmare 24/7.
I am not sure his mother would be kind, she seems more greedy than maternal. Enjoyed the episode. :)
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Liam is 14, he may just about convince people he is a large 10 year old girl, but as puberty kicks in his singing will surely give him away!
A whole year as a 10 year old girl, I wonder what the excuse will be for where Liam has disappeared to, and the effects of missing a whole year of school for his age!
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Time at school dragged on and on. Having moved back four years he was bored by the lessons. He had far too much time to think about his next pageant, usually dreading wearing the latest fancy tights or ankle socks that his mother had found for the next show.
He even dreaded the breaks at school. He looked on with envy as some girls kicked a football around but he would get into trouble if he smudged his snow-white tights.
Some girls were happy to clamber all over the climbing frames but there was no way he was doing that in his short uniform and pink frilly panties.
But even the girly games were fraught with danger. Whenever he was prevailed upon by the girls to try some skipping, it always got an audience of boys across the wall no matter how much he tried to hold his dress down. He was badgered into a game of hop-scotch once and it was only when he had to bend over and pick up the counter that he cringed realising the display he was going to give – especially with his back turned to the boys’ playground.
Then he got invited to several birthday parties by girls in his class. His mother insisted that he go and since he owned four party dresses, he couldn’t claim to have nothing appropriate to wear. Often the parties included a bouncy castle. The girls would cheer and race over to jump up and down on it. Liam would just cringe and clutch the hem of his short dress realising there was no way he could enjoy that.
Not that he was ever able to successfully conceal his frilly panties at any of these parties anyway. He often overheard remarks from mothers on how Laura always had perfectly matched frilly panties for her outfits.
Going home from one of the parties he was informed by his mother that his fake ID card gave his birthday as 12 March so he was going to have his own birthday party. She fobbed off his protests saying that he couldn’t go to all these parties and then not have one on his own birthday. Of course, he hadn’t wanted to go to any of them.
She insisted that he had to wear his pink pageant dress for his own party where he had to be the centre of attention. He greeted the first guests nervously trying to push his perky petticoats down and not think too much about his freshly pressed ringlets, now reaching well below his shoulders even when tied up in two large sparkly pink bows.
The guests insisted that he had to be the first to go on the bouncy castle. The only way to climb up on it was on his hands and knees and he gave everyone that perfect view of how the lace on his panties matched the trim on his petticoats. Even the tentative little bounces that he tried at first caused his petticoats to parachute despite his futile attempts to hold them down.
When the others all clambered on to the bouncy castle there was no way he could control his movement anymore and he was bounced around – sometimes landing on his head with his petticoats flopping upside down over his body. As he scrambled to right himself his ringlets fell across his face and obscured his vision. It was probably for the best that he couldn’t see exactly what he was showing off or the line of boys watching happily from the lawn.
He was mortified as he opened all the presents in front of everyone. Not surprisingly given his sissy appearance, everyone had bought him dolls or frilly socks or tiaras. He had to act as if he was delighted with each present. He wanted to die when it turned out that one guest had dared to give him a pair of pink frilly panties. Everyone giggled knowingly as he cringed more than ever trying to pretend he was delighted with them.
When he went into the house to go to the loo his mother insisted that he change into the new pink panties since they matched his dress so well. He was only back in the garden a minute when he heard – “oh look she’s wearing the new panties!”
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Time for the wheels to fall off especially in relation to his greedy mother.
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Enjoyed this latest chapter. After drinking lots of fizzy drinks at his party wouldn't it be embarrassing if while bouncing in the bouncy castle he wet his new pretty panties.
Mummy might think he needs to be re-potty trained. She could put him back in training panties or even more embarrassing nappies and frilly plastic knickers. He would then be modelling he more babyish clothes.
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Liam’s other three pageant dresses fitted nicely over the same boosted pettislip and his mother just had to have each of his pairs of matching panties upgraded with the matching stiff lace. He won the next two rounds of pageant too.
Then when he showed up at the next one he saw two of the runners-up glaring at him. They were wearing much shorter dresses, much more poufed out petticoats and very lacey ankle socks. One was pushed to lean forward by her mother who was sitting behind her and obviously wanted to check the lace on her panties.
As the contestants gathered to go on stage these two girls jostled Liam. “It’s your fault we’re dressed like this”, one said angrily, holding out her poufy petticoats. “You think I want to be dressed like this?” Liam countered, then realising he hadn’t used his girly voice. The two girls looked at him suspiciously. Liam cringed even more in his sparkly tights and frilly panties. But they appeared to think that it couldn’t possibly be a boy dressed like that.
Despite their best efforts, Liam won again. His mother was waiting outside the communal dressing room watching all the girls emerge in their regular clothes. There was no sign of Liam and surely all the others had left by now.
His mother pushed open the door and saw Liam, his hands tied high above him to the strut across the top of a door to a changing cubicle. He was gagged and his dress rode up so high the full extent of his peach frilly panties and sparkly tights were visible. He had been tied there facing his ultra-sissy reflection in the mirrors while his angry competitors took their time changing.
When he passed his supposed 11th birthday and had to move into an older age category for competitions, he begged his mother “please stop this! Please don’t make me do any more pageants!” “Are you kidding? With this prize-money?” If he thought moving to the older category might mean more mature outfits then he was wrong. In fact, his juvenile appearance went down even better with the mothers thinking ‘Laura’ was now over eleven.
The only problem was that his voice was threatening to break but his mother solved that easily by getting him to lip-sync to a recording of Shirley Temple singing the song which went down a treat. The taller he grew, the shorter his dresses sat on him. He was sure the frilly panties with his Shirley Temple were on view no matter how straight he stood or how he tried to push down the poufy petticoats. But that just increased the entertainment level for the audiences.
Each week he had to stay for an extra hour ballet tuition. He tried being deliberately useless in the hope Madame Suchet would drop the idea of him being the lead. But she phoned his mother. “Laura will have to stay a second extra hour today – we have not made enough progress.” His mother readily agreed and Liam had to conclude he had no choice but to do his best if he didn’t want to spend even more hours in his pink tutu and tights.
After another month of lessons, when his mother was picking him up, Madame Suchet told her “she’s making excellent progress now. There is a competition for a scholarship to Lady Hamilton’s Private School for Girls. I’ve entered Laura for it.” Liam froze. “This is the third time I’ve entered a pupil of mine and they have always qualified for it. I’m determined to keep up that 100% record.” Liam fiddled nervously with the net of his pink tutu and squirmed in his tights.
“Is that the school where the girls wear that old-fashioned gymslip with the stripey blue blazers and straw boaters?” his mother asked. “Yes a very traditional school”, Madame Suchet confirmed.
She really turned up the degree of difficulty for his ballet lessons. He knew there was no point slacking because she would just extend his hours. However, he thought that he could surely deliberately flunk the test or competition whenever it came to that.
But one day when he turned up for rehearsal Madame Suchet was clutching an envelope. “We’ve won it! You’ve won the scholarship!” Liam was non-plussed. “But how?” “It’s continuous assessment based on videos of your training sessions”, she explained. “You just need to report to be fitted with your uniform for your five-year scholarship to Lady Hamilton’s Private School.”
Fortunately his mother did not appear to want to send him to the girls’ school so didn’t act on that. Her attention was focussed on the end-of-year concert in which he had his starring role in the ballet. It went down a treat and while the audience applauded a lady came up to his mother. “Mrs Long! How are you? We haven’t seen you all year! What are you doing here? My niece was in the ballet – wasn’t it fantastic?” she asked, clutching the camera she had used to record the whole dance.
Liam’s mother was not sure what to say. She was struggling to remember the woman’s name but was sure she was the mother of one of the boys who had been in Liam’s class before his change of school. Liam came flouncing along, still in his pink tutu, tights and ballet shoes. “Mum, the bow has become tangled in my ringlets, can you free it?” The lady looked puzzled. She was sure Mrs Long only had a son but this child in the pink tutu had definitely called her mum.
She studied the child’s face carefully. She could see that Mrs Long did not know what to say. “Liam!” The woman’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. He squirmed, tried to push down his tutu in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal his pink frills. But nobody was denying it. “Well that explains a lot!” the lady concluded. She looked at her camera realising she had captured Liam Long flouncing around a stage in public performing ballet expertly in a pink tutu and pink tights.
His mother, not knowing what else to do, tried to remove his tangled bow. Liam cried out as she tugged his ringlets, confirming to the woman that that was his real hair permed in ringlets. Without another word she rushed off.
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Oh didn't see that coming. I hope the lady agrees with mummy and thinks Liam is a pretty sissy who deserves to stay in dresses. Might give her ideas for her own son.
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I wonder where this story could go next?!
I feel the all girl's school will be needed, but I wonder if this woman will end up reporting that a 15 year old boy has been attending an all girls primary school living as a 10/11 year old girl?!
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Liam was not surprised to find that the video of his ballet performance quickly went viral on all his old school’s social media. For almost a year he had avoided them finding out about his mortifying predicament. “I can’t go back to school there”, he insisted. “Oh it’ll blow over in a few weeks”, his mother tried to assure him unconvincingly. “Well, months maybe.” But she and Liam were only too well aware that everything posted on the internet was there forever and boys would never let him forget something like that.
“Surely I can go to a private boys’ school with all the money I’ve earned between the modelling and pageant prize money?” Liam was determined some good should come from his annus horribilus. His mother looked sheepish. “I’m afraid I’ve lost all your earnings through gambling. That’s why I needed you to do the pageants but I’ve lost all that now too. I’m sorry but at least you have your scholarship.”
So Liam stood in front of Principal Skinner as she inspected his uniform. He shifted uneasily in his four-inch heels, feeling like a tightly wrapped present in all the shaping garments. But the corset with underwired bra and padded hips and bottom appeared to be doing the job of giving him a teenage girlish shape.
“Very nicely turned out”, she told his mother. “Turn around.” Liam tottered around in his heels. “Keep those seams straight”, she ordered. “Yes Principal.” She lifted the hem of his gymslip. “Very good, I see you have followed the rule – the gymslip comes just one inch below the stocking tops to ensure our girls maintain an upright stance at all times. Walk along.”
Liam tottered across the room as smoothly as he could in the heels. He could feel his stockings and suspenders shifting with every step and was convinced his stockings were slipping down in danger of being seen beneath his short gymslip.
When he turned to come back his pleated skirt twirled up a little. “Oops”, his mother reacted, expecting an admonishment from the Principal. “That’s alright, a little glimpse is good – we have to keep the boys interested, don’t we?”, she smirked. Liam cringed and tried to hold the hem of his pleated gymslip down as he walked back. “Stop that! Arms out!” the Principal ordered so he let go and tried to walk as steadily as possible. He supposed it had helped that his mother made him wear the high heels all weekend to get used to them.
One consolation was that the ringlets had to go and his hair was now bunched in two pony tails under his straw boater. “I see you have applied for the science subjects. These are increasingly popular among girls now.” Liam had been somewhat relieved to see that the otherwise traditional girls’ school had these subjects which were his favourites.
“Unfortunately, your acceptance of the scholarship came late in the day and all those classes are full. I have assigned you the subjects that have places available: domestic science – that’s sewing, cooking, dress making etc – secretarial skills and deportment.” Liam cringed.
“So report to room A4 for your first double sewing period” Principal Skinner ordered. “Yes Principal.” He gave one final pleading look over his shoulder as he reached for the door knob but his mother was smiling, noticing how his stocking tops peeked as he leaned forward just a little to turn the door knob.
As he scampered down the long corridor, seemingly taking ages in the high heels, he tried not to think too much about the next five years in his gymslip, corset, stockings and suspenders.
Just as he was getting used to his new school a new torment revealed itself – the school prom. The girls’ school partnered with Lord Kingsley’s School for Boys when organising proms. Of course his mother insisted he had to go and bought a coc-ktail dress for him.
At the dance the girls lined up on one side of the hall, giggling at the line of boys opposite. Liam cringed, seeing the leering looks from the boys. He tried to push down the short petticoats under his dress. He wished that his underwired bra didn’t present his new boobs so nicely. He couldn’t stop flickering his unfamiliar false eyelashes. His lips stung and felt swollen since his mother applied his scarlet lipstick.
When the first dance was called, the boys rushed across the room to claim a partner. The girls were under strict instruction from Principal Skinner not to refuse a boy at least one dance. Liam tried to avoid the boys by scampering along behind the line of girls but his five-inch heels meant he couldn’t get away entirely and soon his hand was grabbed by a boy who tugged him out onto the dancefloor.
He felt so exposed with just a flimsy pair of lace-trimmed panties under his short flared dress and he could feel the air circulating on the bare skin above his stockings. With his hands firmly held in waltz hold there was nothing he could do to stop his dress swirling out as the boy led him in a lively dance.
He was so relieved when the music stopped but again the five-inch heels prevented him from scampering off the dancefloor quickly enough to avoid another suitor and he was quickly hauled back to the centre for the next dance. He proved to be a popular dance partner all night.
Liam’s mother was surprised when he asked if he could meet his new school friends on a Saturday at the local mall. He had heretofore tried his best to stay indoors as much as possible since dressed like a girl. But it seemed like the isolation was getting to him.
She was further surprised that he wanted to wear a dress with all his shaping undergarments, full make-up, painted nails and stockings and high heels. “All the other girls will be dressed up like this”, he insisted as he clutched his matching purse. He noticed his mother smirk. He realised he had just said “other girls”.
THE END
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Thank you for a wonderful story Dara. I have enjoyed following Liam's exploits. I hope you write another soon.
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hmm gambling parents poor kid. he would have been better sent to his aunt for girl training and became a happy baby girl free from school and free to play in his playpen all day. no tests, no growing for him. :")
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DaraJaney,
I haven't been on the website for a while and I just had the privilege of reading another one of your masterpieces!
If there is a sequel, will acting like a boy start being so unnatural to him that he might start taking hormones, do a legal name change to Laura, study hard to become a master seamstress and cook, and after graduation get surgery and live as a contented woman?
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Thanks again for a wonderful story.