Oh what a tangled web

[frillibabi]

s there is a dirth of stories being posted I sat down and started this - I have ideas as to where it might go - if you want more please post and tell me if you are enjoying it. I write for an audience, if there is no one there I'll save myself the trouble!



Oh what a tangled web
Part 1

Simon was well and truly caught in web he had woven for himself. He had been incredibly stupid and had ordered some clothing from ebay using the joint credit card. He hadn’t intended to use that card, of course, but he was so dazzled by the beauty of the dress with all its frills and petticoats that he just had to have it – and the auction was ending in 5 minutes! Of course he bid the highest - £125 wasn’t cheap, but it was worth it and when he picked it up from the post office box he’d set up for all his “secret” purchases, he couldn’t wait to try it on.

That was about 3 months ago just before Simon’s world was turned upside down.

Simon and his wife, Jenny lived in a little village in the South of England. They ran a fairly successful mail order business from their comfortable home. They had been married for about 5 years. Jenny, who was in her early thirties, was one of those tall assertive women who know what they want, and usually get it. She had previously worked in Finance in the City and had received a very generous redundancy package when the Corporation was downsizing. Simon was 5 years her junior, he had a boyish look and easily passed for someone in their early 20s. They had met when Simon was working, as a waiter whilst he attempted to raise funds for his acting career –well he aspired to have an acting career – the truth was he was having difficulties in even obtaining auditions. Anyway there he was serving drinks to Jenny and her friends in a bar in central London when he felt someone pinch his bottom. He ignored it at first until Jenny did it again, only this time harder and announced, to the mirth of her friends, “they may be small girls, but he’s got buns of steel”. Simon could only blush as Jenny stated into his eyes and smirked. Strangely, embarrassed though he was, he was exited too and found himself somewhat aroused. He’d avoided that table for the rest of the evening, too embarrassed to approach. But as the evening drew to a close Jenny approached him at the bar and proffered an apology for embarrassing him. Simon had stammered a reply along the lines of it was nothing and that he enjoyed a bit of horseplay. He could feel Jenny eyeing up, in fact it felt like she was beginning to flirt with him causing him to blush again. Jenny just loved making Simon blush and it was on impulse she reached into her purse and handed Simon her card.
 â€śThat’s my number – call me Sunday afternoon  - understand?”
Simon looked at the card and read the name, and looked at Jenny, somewhat surprised at her assertiveness. He mumbled an “Ok”
Jenny smiled at him and replied, “If you don’t call me I’ll come back here, pull your pants and pinch your bottom again – and that’s a promise!”
With that she turned and let the bar without looking back. If she had looked back she would have seen Simon flushed but mesmerised as his eyes followed Jenny as she strode out of the bar.
That was how they met. A whirlwind romance followed. They married, they moved out of London to the village, Jenny purchased the mail order business and Simon realised he wasn’t going to make it on the stage.
Simon had a secret though – a love of assertive woman was only part of it. Simon had, for as long as he could remember, enjoyed dressing up as a little girl. He loved stories he found on the internet of men and boys forced to don such childish clothes and being humiliated and laughed at. He had, over the years acc-umulated a stash of suitable clothes – frilly panties, lacy tights, a couple of dresses and petticoats. He had been free to indulge himself before his marriage to Jenny. Indeed he had told himself that when he married he would put such fantasies behind him and dispose of his stash, but he found it impossible to do And whilst he might go several weeks without dressing up if Jenny ever went out for the day – or went to visit her mother in the north, Simon would succ-umb to his urges.

And so, until the fateful day, Simon led a bit of a double life deceiving Jenny as to his true nature. That’s how Jenny described it when she told her mother about Simon’s shameful interest. And it is not quite accurate that Jenny was deceived up to that fateful day. To be honest there was a period of about 10 days when Jenny unearthed the truth about Simon, but Simon was in blissful ignorance that Jenny knew.
It all happened because of the credit card. When she got the statement she didn’t recognise the transaction. A couple of call to the Card Company and Pay Pal led her to the “Sissy Heaven” web page. There was no mistaking what they sold. She found the phone number and called quoting the credit card number and asking when the item had been delivered. She was able to discover not only the exact “little girl” dress but also Simon’s secret post office box. Was Jenny shocked? A little, but she thought to herself that this wasn’t totally unexpected when she came to think about it – there had been tell tale signs now and then and that, if she played her cards right, she might find the whole thing worked to her advantage.
Jenny’s next step was to call an old acquaintance from her Finance days who was an expert in IT. Sending Simon off for the day on a fools errand, the IT specialist caught a train to the village, inspected Simon’s computer and very quickly gave Jenny a print out of the websites Simon was visiting together with the password for his various memberships.
When the expert left Jenny spent a good 3 hours surfing a multitude of Sissy themed sites learning more and more about Simon’s dark and dirty little “secret”.
“Knowledge is power” as the saying goes. Now that Jenny knew, she intended to put it to good use. As she drummed her immaculately manicured red nails on the table a plan began to take shape in her head.

The next weekend was fast approaching. On Simon’s return Jenny greeted him warmly and informed him that her mother had called whilst he was out and that sadly she was going to have to visit her as she had taken ill.
“I know you don’t really care for Mummy” Jenny said in a very understanding way “so why don’t you stay here on your own? You’ll have much more fun than coming with me”.
It was true that Simon didn’t really get on with his mother-in-law, Elizabeth. It was from Elizabeth that Jenny had got the assertive nature. And Elizabeth had not really approved of Simon. She had hoped that Jenny would meet and marry a successful “City” type and giver her grandchildren. Instead Jenny had married a failed actor who, after 5 years of marriage had failed to father a child. And Jenny wasn’t getting any younger!
Simon of course was inwardly delighted at the thought of the weekend to himself and the chance to play “dress up” but, calling on his acting background he responded “oh no – I couldn’t possibly let you travel all that way on your own!”
Fortunately for Simon, Jenny was insistent. And so it was, on Saturday morning he stood on the driveway to their cottage and waved farewell to Jenny as she drove off for the weekend.
How long did Simon wait before retrieving his stash of clothing and dressing himself in all his frills? Perhaps half an hour at most. He was mindful that Jenny might have forgotten something and return for it. After half an hour, when she hadn’t return he felt himself safe. How wrong he was! For Jenny wasn’t visiting her mother – her mother was visiting Jenny! And whilst Simon was dressed in his best frillies sitting at his computer logging into various sissy sites Jenny was waiting at the station for her mother to arrive. And when Elizabeth did arrive a porter carrying two rather large suitcases accompanied her. After tipping the porter Jenny kissed her mother and remarked, “I see you brought them – did they all arrive?”
“Yes” replied Elizabeth “and whilst they cost a pretty packet I must say they are quite beautiful – I can’t wait to see them on, we’ll have to have a proper fashion show”.
Jenny and her mother had spent the last week on the internet sourcing and selecting a complete wardrobe of little girl sissy clothes.
“I must say I am looking forward to this,” announced Elizabeth
Jenny laughed “well lets just go and get something to east and let our little “girl” enjoy herself until we surprise her”.
Was Simon surprised a couple of hours later when Jenny quietly let herself and Elizabeth into the cottage? Surprised, yes – mortified too. It wasn’t a just a case of being caught with a hand in the cookie jar – it was, as Jenny would later tell her friends, more like a case of being caught with your hand in your frilly panties! a line that never failed to cause a roar of laughter to the listeners.
Simon’s initial reaction was to try and bluff his way out – he claimed that he was practicing for an amateur dramatic society that he was going to audition for. He thought he might have got away with it because Elizabeth and Jenny were in fits of laughter – it never occurred to him to ask what they were doing back at the cottage. When Jenny was able to speak she exploded Simon’s hopes that he got away with it.
“What’s the part Simon? A sissy? That’s a part you can play very well, isn’t it? It’s a part you have been practising for quite some time I think and hiding it from me.”
Jenny turned to her mother “What do you think Mummy? Do you think that if Simon wants to play the sissy he should be allowed too? “
Elizabeth knew her part “Oh I think if Simon wants to dress up and play a sissy girly then he should have his wish come true.
Simon could only stare at his wife and mother-in-law whilst they smiled in amusement at his predicament. With his heart thumping and his knees turning to jelly Jenny picked up her phone and began to film Simon in all his discomfort. It was at that moment that Simon, gripped with fear and embarrassment, wet himself. As a wet patch formed in his panties and began to flow down his legs Elizabeth folded her arms and stared at Simon in a “no nonsense” way loudly tut tutting in a disapproving manner.
Jenny announced “looks like my little girl needs to go back into nappies – but first I think she needs her a good hot red bottom for telling lies to her Mummy, don’t you think.
Elizabeth’s response of “that is so true” sealed Simon’s fate.

And that is how it all started.

[frillibabi]

I started this story a couple of years ago. I thought it would be good to revisit it as I had a few new ideas. Here it is - it may go further but even if it doesnt I hope that this episode in Simon's new life entertains you

oh what a tangled web - continued 2 years later
Some two years had passed since Simon had been caught playing dress up by his Wife, Jenny and his Mother in law, Elizabeth. If Simon or “Frillibabi” as he was now called - thought that things would ever return to his life before that fateful incident he was sadly mistaken. Whilst he had fantasized about being kept as a pretty baby girl by a strong assertive Woman, he wasn’t quite ready for the changes that Jenny and her Mother imposed on him. He had plenty of time to reflect on his predicament now though – his routine was that he was taken out of his cot in the morning when his inevitably sodden terry nappy would be changed. Then he had 10 minutes sitting on the hard pink potty which was his chance “make a dirty” as he was forced to call it. It was always wise to try and perform in that time as if he didn’t Jenny (or “Mummy” as he now had to call her) or Elizabeth (now called NaNa”) would impose some humiliating sanction. Sometimes it was just an over the knee spanking, but he had been given a long soapy enema on occasions and once – even months later he dreaded to recall it – Mummy had added a cruel twist after the spanking. As he remained over her knee awaiting the instruction to “get off” or the more usual push which sent him sprawling onto the floor, Simon was aware of a digit being inserted in his anus. He wondered what she was doing but put it down to just another indignity he had to suffer at her hands and thought no more about it as he was put into a fresh nappy and covered by a pair of rather crinkly plastic pants.
“All done” Mummy had said and smiled at him as he was helped to his feet. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to use your potty, won’t you? See said giving him a very serious look. Simon hated it when he was asked a question like this – one that the answer was obvious but one that he had to answer for fear of further punishment. Once he had declined to answer but had stared at his feet which Mummy had taken as dumb insolence and it had earned him a very prolonged spanking that had him bawling and begging her to stop before he spent an hour with his nose in the corner and a very bright and swollen bottom on display. So Simon answered the obvious but obligatory “yes Mummy, Sorry Mummy” and thought that his lesson was over.
Next Jenny selected the dress for Simon. Her preference for rather frilly and flouncy little girl dresses had been the reason behind Simon’s new sissy name. Today she chose a yellow gingham print cotton dress with a very short skirt that had 5 layers of built in net underskirts causing the dress to stand out so that Simon’s nappied crotch could be seen even if he stood totally upright. With the ensemble finished by a pair of white satin rumba pants, frilled white ankle socks and patent Mary Janes, Simon looked quite the sissy toddler. She stood looking at her creation and admiring the view. What a perfectly pathetic image her presented. Soon she was going to have to turn her attention to finding a real man to fulfil her needs, but she could still have fun with this wimp.

Jenny had left the nursery and Simon who was playing with his dolls, and taken the potty with her.
It was about 30 minutes, as Simon became aware of a slight fizzing sensation in his anus, and his tummy started making funny sounds, that he put two and two together and realised what that finger had been doing. It had been inserting a suppository! And that could only lead to one thing. Simon was aware of the consequences of doing a “dirty” in his nappy and he didn’t want to experience that again. He was in the nursery being watched over by NaNa whilst Mummy had gone to the shops. “Please NaNa – can I have the potty?” he squeaked in the voice they insisted he used and knew they found endearing.
“Why does Frillibabi want the potty dear?” NaNa said from her chair, as she looked up from her magazine. Whilst Elizabeth was asking the question, she had no real need to do so. Jenny had told her Mother that Simon had not used the potty that morning and that she had given him a suppository before pinning him in the nappy.   Elizabeth knew the inevitable result and the how Jenny wanted to deal with it.
“I think I need to do a dirty” Simon answered rather shamefully.
“Did Mummy not put you on the potty this morning Frillibabi?
“Yeth” Simon squeaked.
“And did you do a dirty then?”
“No” said Simon, panicking as he became aware of the build-up in pressure in his body and the growing urgency of the situation “I didn’t need it then”
“But you need it now?” Elizabeth almost gloated, enjoying the little sissy’s discomfort.
“Yeth, yeth, please!” Simon almost screamed as he fought to control the spasms now raging within him.
It was at this point that Elizabeth did a very cruel thing.
“Ok Frillibabi, I’d better go and get it – just hold on till I get back” and she left the nursery. Why was it a cruel deed? Well because she had no intention of getting the potty. She had agreed with Jenny that Simon was to be required to use his nappy for his “dirty” as a punishment for not using the potty when offered – and that was to be just the start of the punishment. But Elizabeth wanted to have the pleasure of Simon’s discomfort as he tried to hold back the natural urge that the suppository was causing. So it was that as NaNa left the nursery Simon held out some hope that if he really managed to concentrate and hold on all would be ok.
In fact NaNa didn’t even begin to look for the potty, she knew where it was, but it was the last thing she intended to do. Whilst Simon was left to struggle in vain with his rumbling tummy, Elizabeth stepped into the bathroom next door and began to apply some eye makeup. “Just a few minutes will do” she thought, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed. “My goodness,” she thought, “I do enjoy humiliating that little sissy. I’m so glad Jenny caught him at his little game”. She could hear Simon’s grunting and irregular breathing from the nursery. Any minute longer he was going to have to give up his resistance to the inevitable.
Giving her reflection a final check and ensuring that she had a straight face Elizabeth stepped out of the bathroom and made her way back to the nursery. Simon could hear the “click, click” of her heels as she made her way down the corridor towards him. Just as the nursery door was in sight she said in a loud voice “I’m sorry Frillibabi, I don’t know where on earth Mummy has put the potty”. She knew that she had timed her arrival perfectly as she entered the nursery and saw Simon, bent down, squirming and accompanied by the sound of someone breaking wind. “Looks like I would have been to late anyway” she announced imperiously, he hands on her hips as she stared down at the sissy knowing how imposing and threatening she looked. Whilst Elizabeth knew that her outward appearance was one of anger and annoyance, inside she was delighted that the plan was working and she tingled with the thrill of Simon’s humiliation to come.
“Please Nana, “I’m sorry NaNa, I tried to hold it back” he squeaked furiously, acutely aware of his position.
“Have you finished?” enquired Elizabeth “All out?”
“I think so” replied Simon, on the verge of tears, “Can you change me please?”
“Oh No!” barked Elizabeth, “You have been very naughty, very very naughty. You are a dirty dirty sissy who wouldn’t use their potty when it was offered and then did a dirty in their nappy. Well you can wear your dirty nappy until Mummy gets back and she can decide what to do with you.”
It was at this stage that first Simon, and then Elizabeth, became aware of the pungent odour emanating from Simon’s fouled nappy.
“And in the meantime, Frillibabi, I will not have that disgusting smell in the house” announced Elizabeth as she advanced on him and, grabbing him by the ear led him out of the nursery, down the stairs and to the back door.
“You can sit in your stinky nappy in the garden with your foul smell until Mummy comes home” she said as she began opening the back door into the garden. Simon was shocked by this. He hadn’t been in the garden since his little dress up games were discovered and he knew that anyone looking in from the adjacent properties would be able to see him.
“Pleath NaNa, Pleath!” Simon implored his Mother in Law, “Pleath don’t put me in the garden! Someone might see me!” he bleated.
“That, Frillibabi, is your problem, not mine, you should have thought about that before you made such an awful smell” and with that she pushed him out into the garden. In the centre of the lawn Simon could see that a small area – 10 foot square – had been fenced off to a height of about 4 foot and enclosed by chicken wire. A small gate allowed access to the enclosure. Elizabeth unbolted the gate and pushed Simon in before re bolting the gate and securing it with a small padlock.
“The fresh air will do you good” she announced and, as she folded her arms across her rather ample bosom, she looked around at the adjacent properties to see who might be a witness to Simon’s humiliation. She could see Mrs McKenzie who lived next door but one looking out from the upstairs window. Simon was unaware of it at the time, but Mrs McKenzie had been told some time ago of Simon’s new status as a sissy baby and thoroughly approved. Both Mrs McKenzie – a divorced lady in her 40’s and her two daughters aged 19 and 17 were soon to play a fuller part in Frillibabi’s life. But that is for later.
“If anybody waves to you at all you make sure you wave back, I’ll be watching from the kitchen” warned Elizabeth. “Oh and I almost forgot this” and she produced a rather large dummy on a yellow ribbon which matched his dress and forced it into his mouth “and I don’t want to see that out of your mouth – If I do you are in even bigger trouble than you are already!”
And with that she pushed Simon in the chest with both hands with sufficient force for him to lose his balance and fall backwards onto his sagging nappied bottom so that he was sitting in his own filth suc-king on a dummy and awaiting the return of his wife/mummy on view to anyone who could look into the garden
Could it get any worse, he thought. Believe me dear reader it could . . . and it did.