Due to Betty's recent illness, most of Betty's sites are limited to members only, and no new registrations for memberships will be accepted at this time.

Trans News ~ Headline News ~ Science News ~ Tech News ~ Paranormal & Aliens
Odd News ~ Betty's YouTube ~ My other channel


The more you give, the
more we can give back!
There has been,

Hits to Betty's
Pubs since
Sept. 30th, 2004

Author Topic: My half brother by Derry  (Read 22781 times)

0 Members and 2 Guests are viewing this topic.

BetBots

  • Administrator
  • Ultimate Sissy
  • **********
  • Posts: 151
  • Karma: +10002/-10005
My half brother by Derry
« on: February 11, 2006, 07:54:03 PM »
My half brother

Username: Derry , Dec/8/2005 06:39:25 [-04][new]



My half brother



My name’s Jamie. My dad had always used my full given names Jemimah Primrose. He had always liked me to wear dresses that were just a bit young for my age.



He had such a different attitude to my brother. My brother was called Gene in the US. When dad moved us to England he rapidly insisted on being Eugene. Eugene’s mother had left the scene before I was born. That is why he is my half brother. Dad’s divorce lawyers had been especially harsh on Victoria, who had been the poster girl for a trophy wife.



My mom was different. She still tended to let dad rule the roost but he had to respect her as a businesswoman. Plus my Mom was not willing to challenge Dad on disciplining her step son.



Eugene was, like his mother and in fact his father, rather short and slight. Perhaps his acting out was in part a reaction to that. He wanted to show he could be as bullying and macho as the next hooligan. He could also drink as much.



Now the law in England says you can legally drink at 18. The fact is that my brother, who if anything looked younger than he was, easily bought loads of hard cider from age 15, maybe 14.



Everything suddenly changed just after Christmas. Eugene was 16 and I was 14. Dad was arrested and extradited back to America. Mom had an okay job. But we had to move to a smaller house in our small English town.



Eugene acted out more than ever. He was often drunk. He shouted. He slammed doors. He never did his share of house work. He always said to my mother:



“You’re not my Mom, you can’t tell me what to do.” On other occasions he said



“My REAL Mom would understand.” However perhaps his most frequent response to requests to do chores or his homework or to be minimally polite was:



“I’m 16, I’m NOT a child, don’t treat me like one.”



I adjusted better I feel. I did my share of the chores and continued to get As at school. Mom was so proud of me. My half brother was totally beyond control.



Then something amazing happened. Victoria, Eugene’s mother, traced us. Eugene thought that everything would be okay and his biological mother would also believe “boys will be boys”. His real mother would not let his step mother nag him. He was in for a shock.



Victoria was actually in a difficult spot. She had not married; her partner and he had died leaving her with Roberta, an 18 month old. Victoria was working part time teaching at a local college. She was teaching “Feminist Studies”. She had a particular interest in Victorian feminism, maybe because of her name.



She had read extensively about a proto feminist journal called “The English Woman’s Domestic Journal”. She had noticed something about ways in which boy children were disciplined in some household.



Barbara, my Mom, had perhaps surprisingly found she liked Victoria. It also turned out that Victoria was paying a ridiculous amount of rent. Our two families ended up moving into one house. Victoria was getting more and more embarrassed by the appalling behaviour of her son. She especially disliked his argument that household chores were “girl’s work”. A week before the start of the 6 week summer break from High School Victoria and Barbara told Eugene:



“We’ve decided to be fair to Jamie. She had done your share of the chores for years. So for the next year you will do all the dish washing and other cleaning.”



He refused. He was told he could leave if he wanted to.



After a week he had got fired from the only job he had tried and had annoyed three of his mates who had each thrown him out of their homes where he had tried to bum room and board. He arrived back knocking on the door.



“Gene, you can stay provided you do your share. Of course you are grounded for the rest of the year. But because you have been so lazy and disobedient I have decided to agree that if you are naughty Barbara has my permission to punish you in more traditional ways.”



He was shocked.



“You mean like spank me, but that’s child abuse.”



Victoria looked at her son:



“But you have told us a hundred times that at 16 you are not a child. You can stay in this household if you accept the rules, or you can leave.”



He hesitated for a minute. I think he smelled the meal that Victoria had cooked. Finally he said: “OK!”



At that time I was five foot eight, Eugene Five one and my Mom exactly six foot tall. He was not especially in condition. My mom enjoyed tennis and other exercises. A few years ago I had been overweight. My old clothes would fit around his tummy, although they would be a bit short on him. Then I smiled:



“I have some gifts for my half brother. You said that washing dishes and things like that was ‘girl’s work’, well there’s some more suitable clothing.”



Gene yelled:



“You Bitch.”



Then things happened. There was a brief struggle. However in less than a minute he was across my Mom’s knees. Pants and underwear came down. His struggles and kicks did not help him and made the whole thing even more amusing, at least to me. In 10 seconds he was crying but the hairbrush spanking went on for ten minutes.



Half an hour later there was an amazing scene. Gene was wearing a blue and white jumper style little girl’s dress and blouse which I had worn, at dad’s insistence, aged 11 and thought was 2-3 years too young even then. He also wore Mary Jane shoes and white ankle socks. My half brother then made six efforts to curtsey and said to me



“Ms Jamie, thank you very much for your hand me down clothes. I am sorry I was so rude. Pretty please will you wash my mouth out with soap and spank me.”



A further apron was placed over the 16 year old’s girlish clothes and I made sure that the wash cloth I had was very soapy. Just as he was opening his mouth he got another surprise. We had quietly let in 2 visitors whilst he in Mom’s room being DRESSED.



“And didn’t Gene say YOU were a sissy darling”



Rose said to Aston. Rose was Gene’s VERY Ex girlfriend and Aston had been a victim of his bullying. Now they were a couple.



They watched the mouth soaping. Then they watched as I sat on the couch. My half brother placed himself over my lap and let me lift up the skirt of his childish dress and pull down his frilly panties. I could not hit him as hard as my mother but with the extra humiliation I managed to get real tears. It was VERY pleasing to me.



The next day was Saturday. Mom, my mom, had some work to do. Victoria, Gene’s mom had a request:



“Could you baby sit Eugene? I do not think he can be trusted on his own.”



So I watched and supervised whilst my half brother, wearing an apron and a dress that most self-respecting 8 year old girls would find too juvenile, scrubbed the bathroom and washed the dishes. I told him to do both tasks three times.



“Or would you prefer another trip across my knees and then Barbara’s.”



Victoria took little Roberta with her. She came back:



“I can save money and help the Earth. I bought 2 dozen terry nappies and some pairs of waterproof pants. I think that I will be quite busy so I’ve decided that my son can wash his littlest sister’s underwear.”



I thought that there would be a refusal. There was not.



For the next week I invited lots of friends from school to visit us. They all laughed when they saw my half brother. At this stage he looked especially ridiculous. Although his hair was long it was a mess, not anything any self respecting girl would wear. He also was rather inefficient at shaving and usually had designed stubble.



You could not think he was actually a rather large 8 year old girl. You could not think he was a 14 year old, dressed young. You had to know he was a petticoated boy.



Mary was in my class. Her sister Lucy had suffered a bad fall. Lucy was 8. She was mature for her age and really liked reading. She had hurt both of her hand and would not be able to do many things including turning the pages of a book. At my suggestion Mary bought Barbie comic books, “What Katie did” and “Little Women”.



My brother ended up spending the whole day almost from just after nine to half past seven in the evening reading the most girlish fiction possible out loud. Lucy liked that she had not missed out on the books. She also enjoyed the lad’s humiliation.



Oh he did get four breaks. Two were ten minutes each for food. The other breaks were rather longer. Lucy enjoyed watching his other breaks; he was scrubbing Roberta’s wet and dirty diapers.



My step mother had told me about how much people in the 19th century disapproved of self abuse. We noticed how Eugene stained his sheets and my old nighties every night. Plus quite often he either left puddles in the bathroom or wet the skirts of his new frocks.



In one of the journals there was a solution. The device was made of metal. Aston and Rose were learning to do various kinds of work with plastic. My half brother had to thank Aston for his gift. His mother fitted it. The plastic was well designed to prevent self abuse at night.



“Plus it means you sit down to go *** ***, which is what you would expect for the person doing most ‘girls’ work.”



Barbara, my Mom, had some time off work a week later. She had talked to kids from Gene’s class and some local shopkeepers. In this particular small town there were rather few chain stores and a lot of small stores. Gene had done a lot of stealing and had in other ways behaved badly. Luckily, the bar Gene had mostly used had changed its policies. It aimed to be more family friendly. It had a stricter policy on age issues. Also, it had a little garden, aimed at being suitable for children.



It was time for Eugene’s first trip outside in his new, or rather my hand me down, clothes. Barbara and I both wore pants. I wore high heals. As it happened I am left handed and my mother is right handed. That meant that it was quite easy for each of us to firmly hold one of my half brother’s hands.



Eugene had bought a large number of computer games. The computer shop had a very efficient security system so he had actually paid for them. That same shop had a policy of buying selling some games second hand. We made him sell all those back. He had to tell the store keeper:



“Please give the money to my sister.”



In addition we walked him to a store that bought and sold second hand men’s clothes. We took all his most fashionable clothes and made him sell them.



Mr Baker, the shopkeeper, had heard about my brother’s activities. He had been pre warned of our visit. Somehow he kept a straight face



Then at each shop he had stolen from or been badly behaved at we took him in. On each occasion he first curtsied and then said:



“I am a naughty boy and a thief. I am VERY sorry. Here is some money to pay back.”



I gave him the money on each occasion to repay for the candy and cigarettes he had stolen. Of course all the money came from his things which had earlier been sold.



At about half past eleven we went to the bar Eugene had previously drank at most often. Her curtsied and said:



“I have been a badly behaved child and illegally bought drinks. Please do not serve me alcohol again until my step mother gives permission. This is a picture of what I sometimes look like.”



Then we sat in the garden. The bar did want to reach families. I got a coke. My mom drank orange juice. We bought milk and cookies for Eugene. It was a pint of milk and we made sure he drank it all.



We went to a few other shops and had my brother curtsey, apologise, and reimburse shop keepers he had stolen from,



There was a café particularly fashionable with kids from our school - we ate there. Deborah, another ex girl friend, asked my brother what he was wearing and why. He had been warned of what to say and what would happen if he did not.



“I am wearing hand me down clothes that Jamie wore when she was a kid. I said that house work was ‘girl’s work’ and as I am going to do all the housework for the next year I ought to be suitably dressed.”



Eventually he needed the bathroom. He whispered to my mother.



“Of course you have a tinkle thing so you go to the little boy’s room. Women and girls are entitled to their privacy.”



As he walked towards that room a dozen boys ran ahead of him. I think they used the cubicles. Of course wearing a dress he would have found it hard to use the urinals. The plastic device under his panties meant that he had no choice. We heard lots of loud raucous laughter from the boys’ room.



Victoria remarked that evening:



“You know it is quite bad for CHILDREN to be cooped up. I know Eugene is grounded but under suitable supervision he could go out.”



So for the next few days I took Eugene and Roberta out to the park.



There was a child’s play area popular with mothers of little girls. They had special swings for small children like Roberta. I know she liked that. I was also amused by the number of times Eugene had to explain:



“I am going to do girl’s work for then next year that’s why I’m wearing my sister’s hand me down clothing.”



A nice lady bought ice creams. A vanilla one for Roberta, a chocolate one for me and a strawberry one for Eugene.



“I hate strawberry”



He yelled and threw the ice cream onto the ground. I was angry.



“Eugene, what happens when you are naughty?”



He was confused. Then he realized



“You don’t mean here.”



I asked again



“What happens when Eugene is naughty, or do we go home, talk to Barbara, and come back here tomorrow?”



He whispered



“I get spanked.”



I asked



“What do you say when you need to be spanked?”



He hesitated and then said:



“I was VERY naughty. Pretty please Ms Jamie spank me as hard as you can.”



There were about 10 girls aged 4-10 and 8 mothers watching, as well as little Roberta in her stroller. I found a suitable seat, took the hairbrush from my purse and let 16 year old, who said he was not a child, put himself in the correct position. He let me pull up his skirt, and pull down his panties. I think he may have started crying before the spanking.



He still had hopes of mercy from his biological mother. He told her what had happened:



“Will you ask Jemimah at least not to hit me in public?”



Victoria was not pleased



“I will not. I think it was wicked to refuse a kind gift and to throw away food. You should be punished more. We could wait until Barbara comes home but I have a better idea.”



Victoria had ordered pizzas and made a lovely apple crumble, which was my favourite and also Eugene’s. Some of my friends were joining us for lunch.



Eugene did not have lunch. He spent that time standing in the corner. Victoria told him to hold up the hem of his dress. I got a real thrill pulling down his panties right down to his ankles. The other girls could clearly see how good I had been at spanking.


BetBots

  • Administrator
  • Ultimate Sissy
  • **********
  • Posts: 151
  • Karma: +10002/-10005
My half brother by Derry
« Reply #1 on: February 11, 2006, 07:55:51 PM »
My Half Brother part 2

Username: Derry , Dec/8/2005 07:01:18 [-04][new]





For the next month things went kind of okay. I got to go where I wanted too and my mother and Victoria trusted me. There was some good news for Victoria and excellent news for Eugene. Victoria had heard that it was easier to toilet train kids with cloth diapers. And it was true. Soon little Roberta only needed nappies at night.



Eugene still objected to doing the “Girl’s work” and to being taken around so often. Everyone had thought that the “little yank”, my brother, had been an appalling nuisance. So people were very happy to see him and to tease him. We got into the habit of taking him to the park or such later in the afternoon. That meant people could see his boyish five o’clock shadow as well as his girlish clothes. We always called him ‘EUGENE’. Back in America he had usually been Gene.



Then one morning he said he was too ill to do his chores. He said he had summer flu’. Later that morning Nancy King came to see little Roberta. Nancy is a health visitor. That is a sort of nurse in Britain who specializes in keeping an eye on young children. Roberta was fine. Eugene was in his room,



Victoria asked



“Could you have a look at my other childish person?”



Nancy had heard of Eugene’s behaviour from her friend the school nurse. She had also heard of how we were handling it. I knocked on his bedroom door.



“Eugene, the health visitor is here, to see if you are really ill.”



His response shocked me:



“I won’t let no n****r touch me.”



Nancy was from St Lucia in the Caribbean. Victoria and I were both shocked. She rang my mother at work. Flu or no flu we walked Eugene to the train station to Barbara’s office. Jenny, who was Nancy’s daughter and was in Eugene’s class, happened to be doing work experience:



Barbara, my mother, asked Eugene a question:



“What do you say when you use a bad word.”



Eugene curtsied and obediently requested



“I used a VERY nasty word. I am very sorry. PRETTY please scrub my mouth out with soap.”



Jenny was the first person to mouth soap Eugene. Barbara took a turn, so did his mom, so did I. Three other work colleagues of Barbara joined in. A little after 4pm Victoria had another question.



“You said you were ill child, were you?”



He curtsied and said



“No I was not.”



Victoria then asked



“What happens when you tell lies?”



Further mouth soapings followed until 7pm. Nancy arrived to take her daughter home.



“Could you check on my son, just in case?”



At the end of the examination Nancy asked:



“No we just need to take your temperature.”



He opened his mouth.



“Not there.”



Nancy did not spank my half brother. However he placed himself in exactly that position. Up went his skirt. Down came his panties and in went the instrument. It confirmed that the child was well.



The next day was Friday. It was the day that the garbage men came. I had slept quite heavily. I thought someone was in the room in the early hours but was not sure. Just after 8pm I was surprised to see Eugene going out to put the garbage out. I was cross that he was in pants. He managed to get into my grey elasticised track suit bottoms.



He came down at 9am



“Jemimah, I’ve borrowed some more of your clothes but I put out all the old dresses that fitted me with the garbage.”



He was wrong. When I was 9 I had been VERY fat and had not yet gain height. I was dragged, as a bridesmaid to a third cousin’s wedding. The other bridesmaids had been younger. I was put into a sailor type dress, specially made, which was much more suited to a 4 year old.



For the following couple of years I had done EVERYTHING my dad had said because he threatened to send me to school in that frock if I were naughty. It turned out that Petticoat Punishment was a threat that could be used on a girl.



I remembered that this particular item was hidden in the back of my closet. I went to my room and brought down that dreaded outfit.



“Now, Eugene, since you have acted childishly I think I will have to dress you. Now have a proper bath whilst I phone some of my friends.”



My naked brother came down stairs in a nightie. He let me put him into a toddler style dress. For the rest of that morning, between his chores, Eugene went over a different girl’s knees for thorough spanking. Then Victoria had a surprise:



“We are trying Roberta at a childminder’s. I think it would be easier if you were there.”



Eugene was walked five streets in a dress that most kids out of diapers would think was too young. Ms Palmer agreed to supervise Eugene on condition that he did a large pile of ironing, one of the jobs he hated most.



My friends and I worked on altering some other clothes. Gene would be due for a big surprise tomorrow.



At that time Eugene was allowed to bath himself. This happened as usual on Saturday morning. Then his mother had some explanations.



“You do not seem able to shave yourself properly.”



I got to watch when his mother took my half brother into her room. Eugene’s nightie was lifted out of the way. Shaving soap was applied. All his chest hair went. Next Eugene’s legs were shaved.



Victoria removed the plastic covering over his special places. Then she took a huge pair of scissors and worked on his pubic hair. Again shaving soap was applied. The amazing thing was that his little man, his VERY little man stood up whilst this happened.



We took Eugene downstairs in his nightie. Victoria had a request for me:



“Could you do something with Gene’s hair?”



I used the hairbrush in a different way. It took a long time to deal with all the tangles in his unkempt, although now clean, hair. I think it might have hurt almost as much as when I used the hairbrush the other way. As I was doing this Victoria had a question.



“We’ll not let you have boy underwear but there are some kinds of undies which can be worn by boys and girls, how would that be Gene?”



My brother nodded his head.



Then I carefully braided Eugene’s hair. After a lot of careful effort I put in pink and white ribbon bows.



“Look at the mirror”



Victoria showed him the mirror.



“Don’t you look cute Jeanie?”



I asked,



“I look stupid,”



I had a photo



“As silly as this?”



Then the door went. In came Sarah, a fat 9 year old from next door. She had in her hand hangers with a pinafore type dress and a blouse.



I had a question:



“Would you like to wear my old dress, like yesterday?”



I offered the clearly infantile sailor dress he wore the previous day. Barbara had an alternative



“Or would you prefer to borrow Sarah’s frock.”



There was no response. His mother then said



“I think that Jeanie prefers Jamie’s old dress.”



He yelled, almost screamed



“NO!”



Victoria then said:



“If Jeanie wants to borrow Sarah’s dress Jeanie should curtsey and say pretty please.”



I produced a video camera but never the less my brother curtsied and said:



“Pretty please Sarah can I borrow your nice dress?”



Of course the video did not include the alternative which had been offered



Then Barbara had some news:



“It seems you don’t like wearing Jamie’s old dresses. We’ve decided to take you to Churcham and get you some new dresses of your own. I believe that your reign of terror did not apply there so people don’t know you.



Victoria then asked:



“Would it be better for people to think you’re a girl or a petticoated boy?”



He was unsure. Ten minutes later, after Victoria had got him ready, I asked.



“Well you do look like a Jeanie. Do you want us to always loudly say ‘EUGENE’ and make sure that everyone knows you are a boy being punished?”



There was a pause:



“I suppose it would be better if people thought I was a girl.”



Victoria had one more question,



“And do you think you should use the men’s restrooms at the station and in Churcham.”



The reaction was vigorous



“NO! Then everyone would know.”



Victoria had a problem:



“Do you think that women want an adolescent boy spying on them in the rest room?”



He was flustered



“I err, I don’t know.”



I had been waiting for this moment for two days, since we decided how to deal with his throwing away of my old things



“Well how would it be if we put you into disposable diapers?”



He was shocked



“PLEASE- NO!”



His mother handed him a package in brown paper:



“In that case Roberta has a present for you.”



He opened it. In a few seconds he noticed the safety pins which what he first thought were towels. My friends had I had cut two of Roberta’s not very used nappies into 4 and 8 into two. We sewed them together so that there were now 8 36” square terry nappies, just right for a bigger than average infant like my half brother. I then said



“Well you did want unisex undies.”



Barbara then explained:



“I’m busy today. Victoria is taking Roberta to get knew underwear, now she’s out of diapers. So I’ve asked Jamie to look after Jeanie. Make sure you bring a diaper bag and a heavy hairbrush Jamie dear.”



Jeanie still did not quite know what had hit him.



“So you seriously expect me to pin myself into diapers.”



I explained



“Oh no, I’ll diaper you. Lie down on the sofa, please.”



Victoria had found in her researches a special fold designed to flatten the ***** of a boy and reduce the risk of “self abuse”, another discovery from studying household management books from the 1890s and 1900s. I employed that method. He did not resist being humiliatingly pinned into his new underwear. I pinned two napkins around him to make sure that there was enough absorbency. It also meant that he would find it hard to avoid the extra bulk.



There was a bit of a waddle in Jeanie’s walk as he came down the stairs. I made sure to keep a firm hold on his hand. Victoria pushed Roberta in a stroller. Jeanie was the only person in our party wearing any kind of dress or skirt. You might think I was the brother.



Eugene was surprised that before we went to the station I took him into a child’s clothes shop:



“Doesn’t Jeanie look nicer than Eugene did?”



The lady behind the counter agreed



“You just look adorable.”



Then I explained:



“Now Jeanie does not want to use the proper potty so we’ve had to put the child into nappies; have you got some bigger sized baby panties?”



I took Jeanie into the changing room. The plastic panties were clear but pink tinted. That was ideal for our purposes. I made sure that the plastic panties fitted and went right over the bulky nappies.



As we came out there were a couple of other customers. Both you mother and her daughter sort of recognized me and maybe Eugene. They would know of his behaviour in the past. So I had a request



“Now Eugene, curtsey and say thank you to the lady for you nice clothes.”



He did a very token effort at a curtsey. I was not happy



“Do it properly and lift your dress.”



His did an ordinary curtsey. I yelled



“Properly!”



As intended on the third effort he showed the people in the shop and anyone looking through the window his particular underwear,


BetBots

  • Administrator
  • Ultimate Sissy
  • **********
  • Posts: 151
  • Karma: +10002/-10005
My half brother by Derry
« Reply #2 on: February 11, 2006, 08:49:14 PM »
My Half brother 3My Half brother 3

Username: Derry , Dec/19/2005 19:29:26 [-04]





      PART 3

      So I held my brother’s hand and we walked to the station. Victoria pushed

      Roberta in the stroller. We had just missed a train. We would have to wait

      for half an hour. There was a café. My brother was waddling a bit because

      of the bulk of two oversized nappies under his frock.

      “Two coffees and some milk and cookies for my son.”

      Asked Victoria. As the lady behind the counter was putting the order on a

      tray my step mom asked:

      “Could you give my son a bigger glass of milk?”

      I heard my half brother whisper:

      “Do I have to drink it all?” My step mom nodded firmly. We had a coffee.

      There was still time. Victoria bought us both additional coffees and

      another pint glass of milk for my brother.

      “It’s not fair, I won’t drink all that much!”

      My brother sounded like a toddler having a tantrum. Roberta was happy

      drinking her juice from a sippy cup.

      “Jeanie dear, I’ve got a spare sippy cup. You can drink your milk like a

      big girl. Or put your head in my lap and I’ll feed you. And if you’re bad

      again, well Jamie has a very strong arm.”

      My step mom took out the metal hairbrush and gave it to me. I tapped my

      left hand with it.

      At last the train arrived. The actual journey was quite short. As we got

      out of the station a bus was pulling in. The bus was quite full. It was

      one of those old fashioned double decker busses. It had been bought by the

      Churcham Bus Company from London.

      “Jamie, I think you and Jeanie could go upstairs.”

      I went first.

      “Up you go Jeanie..”

      I heard Victoria say.

      I’m sure that the bus conductor got a glimpse of my brother’s underwear as

      he went up the steps. We walked past a shop called “Precious and Adorable”

      which had baby things. We also passed “Little Miss Cutie pie” which had

      lots of clothes designed for little girls. It was the kind of place my Dad

      would have loved because it was aimed at parents who thought that their

      daughters were growing up too fast. Typical dresses seemed to be sized for

      a 10 year old and styled for a 5 year old.

      Finally we reached “Modern Teen”. This shop had grown up type skirts,

      dresses, pant suits and sports wear aimed at young women of my age.

      Victoria was very patient. I had a modest budget from my mother. I had to

      check out over a hundred items and probably try on something like 20. We

      were in the store for over an hour but Victoria was patient.

      A lot of the parents who were in the store said hello both to Roberta and

      to Jeanie. Many of the parents looked at Jeanie and said to Victoria

      things like:

      “I wish I could get my daughter into an outfit like that.”

      Victoria said to her son:

      “See Darlingest, everyone thinks your dress suits you.”

      I heard another mother say:

      “Alex, if you don’t choose an outfit in five minutes I’ll choose your

      things, at ‘Little Miss Cutie pie’, how would that be?”

      But mostly mothers, and some teen girls were looking at little Roberta

      “Aren’t you just adorable?”

      Was typical comment on my little step sister. Then, whilst I was trying on

      a particularly sexy number, I heard Roberta say:

      “Want potty?”

      Victoria took her to the rest room. I noticed just how violently my half

      brother was fidgeting. I was sure that his diapers would soon be very

      useful indeed. After they came out of the rest room little Roberta said:

      “Me goed on BIG girl potty.”

      A lady who was there talked to Roberta and had a question for Victoria

      “Aren’t you a grown up young lady?How old is she?”

      Victoria was proud:

      “22 months.”

      Then the lady asked:

      “What’s the secret, Fred’s 30 month old and still in nappies?”

      I was showing off a very grown up dress which showed to great advantage

      the cleavage that my push up bra made it seem I had. I just watched and

      listened. Victoria answered.

      “Well I think that terry nappies are very good for potty training. Don’t

      you agree that terry nappies are best, Jeanie?”

      She said, tapping her son’s padded bottom through his frock.

      “Cloth diapers are very good for the environment and they progress toilet

      training.”

      Remarked my brother, still fidgeting like mad. He was trying to sound as

      girlish and young as possible. I think that some people might have guessed

      from his voice that this was not a typical wearer of that kind of frock

      I had almost decided what to get. Just before I did so I saw a change

      occur to my brother. He stopped fidgeting. I saw the expression on his

      face change. He whispered to Victoria, his mother. She whispered back and

      shook her head.

      I paid for what I was getting. Next we went to “Precious and adorable”.

      Perhaps my brother was relieved that we did not seem to be trying to buy

      anything for him. I noticed that none of the outfits chosen for Roberta

      included a skirt or dress. Also the toys were things like trucks and

      plastic bricks.

      Victoria also bought her littler girl some panties. They were rather plain

      almost unisex.

      “Roberta doesn’t need training panties anymore.”

      Roberta’s s totally clean training panties went into the same nappy bag as

      the change we had ready for her brother Eugene.

      About half way through our visit Jeanie again started fidgeting. This did

      not s***d things up. Victoria checked outfit after outfit against little

      Roberta. Then they looked at the toys. A little later Jeanie stopped

      fidgeting. Then just before we left, Victoria said to her son:

      “I don’t want little Jeanie left out, and since you know so much about

      nappies I thought you’d like this.”

      The gift was “The teddy baby”, a teddy bear who wore a diaper, drank from

      a bottle and wet itself. The toy was large and had a handle. Victoria did

      not believe in unnecessary packaging. She had brought bags for her

      daughter’s things. However Jeanie’s gift had a handle. So for the next

      part of the journey I held one hand and Jeanie held the infantile gift in

      the other.

      I continued holding his hand. He carried on holding “The teddy baby” when

      we went into “Little Miss Cutie pie.” For nearly and hour Victoria held

      the most childish possible frocks against him. At last she had made the

      choice.

      An especially young enthusiastic and helpful assistant, named Molly took

      my brother’s hand. She walked him to the changing room. Then I heard in a

      really loud voice:

      “I don’t think you should try on our new clothes until you’ve been to a

      DIFFERENT changing room.”

      “You’re right.”

      Agreed Victoria. I noticed Molly chatting to the other girls and heard

      huge laughs.

      Then we went to “The Family restaurant”. Victoria and I had large pizzas.

      She bought macaroni cheese for Roberta and Jeanie. After about a minute it

      was obvious that he could not manage well with the plastic spoon and fork.



      “STOP!”

      Victoria said, firmly. Then she tied a bib around my half brother to help

      save his frock from mess. About half way through the meal Roberta said:

      “Potty, now!”

      Then a waitress came. Victoria asked:

      “Where’s the lady’s room? And is there anywhere we can change my son’s

      nappies?”

      She pointed. It was the same room. I then said:

      “Nappy time, Jeanie!”

      I spoke quite loudly as I took his hand and walked him to the ladies room.

      Just outside the door I blindfolded my half brother. Then I said:

      “Boys shouldn’t see women’s private area.”

      The first thing I did was take off Eugene’s dress. People had heard what

      we had said noisily. Suddenly several ladies, and far more younger girls,

      realized they needed the rest room. He heard the commotion. They had built

      in a big diaper deck for bigger kids. Well you know about the delay in

      potty training and the problem of overweight kids. It was not hard to lay

      my brother on it.

      I undid his childish sandals and took off his ankle socks. Then I pulled

      down his plastic panties. At this point Roberta was taken out of the stall

      by her Mom. I heard the not yet two year old say:

      “Boberta NOT need nap naps. Boberta’s BIG girl.”

      I unpinned my older half brother’s napkins. I teased:

      “Is Jeanie a little Miss Waterworks?”

      He said nothing. Victoria then said:

      “I think you’re being rude Eugene, you need a little trip across your

      sister’s knees.”

      He then agreed:

      “I’m a little Miss Waterworks.”

      In the next 12 minutes my brother agreed that he was a water works, a

      toddler tinkler and the biggest baby in the World. I took my time

      unpinning him, washing his delicate area. Whilst doing that I was able to

      say

      “I think little Miss Waterworks likes nappy time.”

      Then I firmly pinned him into his clean nappies and on went his plastic

      panties. I put his shoes on and helped him into his dress. Just before I

      opened the door Victoria said:

      “Jamie you’ve forgotten something. Your brother still needs a spanking for

      being rude and not answering your question. I better get the hairbrush.”

      A couple of girls rushed out at this point. By the time I had my brother

      over my knees and my step mother handed me the metal hairbrush there must

      have been, as well as Victoria and Roberta, 40 women and girls from 4 to

      84. Luckily there was just about enough room for me to do what I needed on

      the convenient low seat

      I lifted up Eugene’s frock. I lifted up the petticoat. I pulled the

      plastic panties down to his knees. Then I unpinned enough of the diaper to

      give a good target, He was actually crying already.



      In five minutes his sobs were a good likeness for a hungry thirsty 6 month

      old in dirty diapers and with diaper rash . Just after I had finished

      reddening his butt, I pinned back the baby wear and pulled up the plastic

      panties. He stood up. He thought the ordeal was over. It was not quite. I

      reminded him:

      “What do you say and do after a spanking.”

      Again in front of lots of people, and this time struggling because he was

      still blindfolded he said

      “Thank you for spanking me hard I really needed that.”

      And of course his curtsey again reminded people about his particular

      underwear. Victoria, Roberta and I had a divine desert. Jeanie ate nothing

      but was the centre of attention. His mother had explained:

      “NAUGHTY people do not get pudding.”

      We all talked quite loudly and repeatedly mentioned “Little Miss Cutie

      pie.” Normally I am sure that all the girls between 5 and 20 would not

      have been seen dead in that store, Oddly enough by the time we returned

      many had remembered little sisters and cousins who really did need the

      most childish styles of attire.

      So for half an hour Molly helped my brother into pretty dresses. Each

      time, after Molly had fussed over him to make sure the fit was right, he

      came out. Jeanie was required to twirl around in each new dress so that

      people could see him from all angles.

      Several of the frocks were so short that his nappies were in clear view

      all the time. Two were long enough but he would be safe. Most, however,

      were just about long enough to cover his plump behind but would show off

      if he bent down, was caught by a wind or had to climb steep stairs. It was

      in one such new frock that he left “Little Miss Cutie pie”. As usual I had

      a firm grip on his hand.

      We then returned to “The Family Restraunt”. Roberta played in the

      children’s play area. The grown ups had coffee. Jeanie had two pints of

      milk and one of juice. We had invited Molly, whose shift had just ended.

      She was very curious. Victoria said

      “I think my son should explain the way he is treated.”

      So my 16 year old brother told the cute 15 year old Saturday shop

      assistant about how awfully he had behaved. He admitted that he could not

      cope on his own. He had agreed that he deserved punishment. He said that

      since he had refused to do any house work because it was “girl’s work” for

      10 year it would be fair for him both to do all the chores and to be

      dressed for “girl’s work”.

      It had been a bit easier to look like a little girl than a petticoated

      boy. He had thought it would be nicer in Churcham where people did not

      know him. He had admitted refusing to use the boy’s rest rooms. He

      concluded

      “That’s why I’m wearing this dress, plastic panties and cloth diapers.”

      I twisted the knife a little:

      “And don’t the frocks suit you and the diapers reflect your level of

      maturity.”

      Reluctantly he said:

      “I suppose I deserve a lot of what has happened to me.”

      Molly told me:

      “I don’t mind baby sitting babies but bigger kids behave so badly. I’m

      sure that Roberta would be a delight to look after. And with your brother

      at least I’d be allowed to spank him if he were naughty.”

      Victoria ordered more apple crumble. She then said to Jeanie:

      “Since you’ve been such a good boy you can have desert, if you want.”

      He said

      “Yes please.”

      His mother ordered stewed prunes for Eugene. We ate our lovely pudding

      quickly. My brother seemed more reluctant to eat his. Then Victoria said

      “Jeanie seems to be struggling. Could you help feed the child, Molly, then

      we can think about you being the baby sitter. Jamie would you put a bib on

      the little one?”

      I obeyed. My brother was spoon fed in a quite crowded diner. Victoria took

      a note of Molly’s phone number.

      We had a rather difficult journey home. The train was very delayed. Poor

      Roberta was very scared that she would have an accident. Luckily she just

      got to the ladies at a station half way home. Unfortunately this meant

      that we had to wait for the next train.

      I was enjoying watching how much my brother was both fidgeting and trying

      to clench his bottom.

      On the last leg of the journey Roberta was being quite assertive

      “Want to feed ducks.”

      Victoria tried to explain that we had to go home and that she was tired.

      It was after six by the time we got home. Everyone except Roberta, who had

      of course been in the stroller, was quite tired. I ran ahead to the toilet

      to add to my half brothers problems. However I heard Roberta say

      “Want to feed ducks.”

      My mother asked:

      “Has Roberta been a good girl?”

      I yelled down.

      “A VERY good girl.”

      Mom said

      “I could take her to the river. Maybe if Jeanie came too she would learn

      to be a good girl.”

      Victoria asked her daughter

      “Would you be a good girl if Aunt Barbara took you to the river?”

      She nodded vigorously. Now the river is quite near. Roberta could walk a

      bit. So Mom took her 22 month step daughter in one hand. Roberta wore

      green overalls and plain rather grown up panties underneath. On Mom’s

      other hand, perhaps even more firmly held by her, was her 16 year old step

      son. Eugene was in a shortish dress with, pint tinted plastic panties and

      bulky nappies underneath.

      Just after I left the toilet I said to Jeanie:

      “You might need this.”

      I then handed my half brother a nappy bag.

BetBots

  • Administrator
  • Ultimate Sissy
  • **********
  • Posts: 151
  • Karma: +10002/-10005
My half brother by Derry
« Reply #3 on: February 11, 2006, 08:50:01 PM »
my half brother part 4my half brother part 4

Username: Derry , Dec/24/2005 08:40:27 [-04]



      Part 4



      Roberta was very advanced for her age in lots of ways, including s***ch.

      One thing about the way she talked that always bugged my half brother was

      that she called him Jean. He kept shouting at the toddler



      “It is Eugene!”



      All this had happened before he started being dressed like a Jean. The

      toddler had noticed sometimes people point and said “you.” She worked out

      a way of addressing her half brother. She said



      “You! Gene.”



      And then she pointed.



      Well I had thought that maybe Roberta and Barbara (my Mom) did not have

      bread to feed the ducks. I was wrong. Roberta carried a little bag in the

      hand that was not holding my mother’s hand. I thought that feeding the

      ducks with my step sister could be fun. Just before we reached the weather

      Roberta said what we had all noticed. She pointed at the boy in the

      shortish dress and announced



      “You! Gene stinky.”



      Barbara ordered her step son to sit down wind of us on the grass. We fed

      the ducks for half an hour. I got bored. I went home and I brought some

      small cups of water and the “Teddy baby”. For the next half an hour

      Jeanie, in noticeably smelly diapers had to repeatedly feed and then

      change the infantile toy.





      Luckily for my half brother nobody else was around. It was starting to get

      to be a rather cool summer evening. We did not want to hold hands with the

      child in dirty diapers. Barbara walked Roberta home, quit slowly. I was

      well ahead. Eugene walked about ten yards behind me and ahead of his step

      mom.





      We had a garage but no car. There was a drain in the middle and a supply

      of cold water. This was where we decided to deal with the stinky Jeanie.

      Eugene had bought a war time gas mask for playing soldiers, which was a

      pretty childish thing at 15 when he bought it. However now I had a use for

      it.



      I put the gasmask on and took my half brother into the garage. I removed

      his dress and petticoat. Off came his shoes and socks. Then I removed his

      plastic panties and unpinned his very messy and very smelly diapers.



      When I had changed Roberta, even when she was very messy, I took a lot of

      care to be kind and gentle with baby wipes and made sure she was warm

      enough.



      After the diapers were unpinned and out of the way I cleaned him. I made

      sure the make sure I was at least six feet from him as I directed a pipe

      of VERY cold water for about twenty minutes.



      Eugene got to go to bed rather later than usual that night. He spent two

      hours getting rid of the worst of the **** from the diapers so that he

      would be able to properly wash them the next day.





      For the next week I babysat both Roberta and Jeanie. Victoria had found

      some work in the summer. It was okay. I did manage to find excuses for

      spanking my brother. I did invite my old class mates and his to see him. I

      also invited girls from his class.



      I always wore pants. Usually that was how I dressed little Roberta. So you

      often the only person in a dress was my older half brother. I guess he

      looked less ridiculous clean shaven and in pig tails than he did when he

      was obviously a petticoated boy. Still I suspect most 16 year old girls

      would have been ashamed to wear what he had on. At 14 it would have

      resented them.





      About a week later Victoria decided to try Roberta at the Child Minder.

      The lady had enjoyed dealing with Eugene but did not want him around all

      the time. I had lots of places to go to and did not want to drag around my

      brother.



      On the other hand it was very plain that Jeanie could not possibly be

      trusted on his/her own. Victoria remembered Molly. She telephoned her. It

      turned out that she only worked at “Little Miss Cutie Pie” at the weekends

      and did need some money.



      So that Monday I showed Molly all that she would need to baby sit my

      brother. Molly was shorter than I was but taller than Eugene. I pointed to

      the large pile of ironing that my brother would be required to do. I

      showed her the heavy metal hairbru*******ook her and Jeanie into the

      bathroom.



      “If he uses naughty words or tells lies use this. It is carbolic and

      organic. It will do no physical damage but will be VERY efficient at

      washing out naughty words.”





      I had a nice day shopping. I walked home through a park. A little before

      4pm I was surprised to see my brother and Molly. Jeanie’s right hand was

      firmly held by Molly. In his left hand he held a packet of disposable

      diapers. I saw they were of a giant size- Economy drug store size 7. Then

      I noticed the way he was walking.



      We sat on a park bench and Eugene told me all of what had happened.



      “I was a good girl. I did all the ironing, just like you said. Molly did

      all her home work. She said she had some shopping. She also said:



      “I think that we should be able to get the shopping and then get you home

      just after lunch. I do want to try a nice café in Northborough”



      I should explain that Northborough is the small English town where we

      lived. Eugene was very well known here for all the wrong reasons. My

      brother carried on.



      “I did find it boring being with Molly whilst she did her shopping. I

      stayed quiet. Actually I was very relieved that people did not recognize

      me. I think some girls felt sorry for me, being dressed so young and all.



      “We ate lunch. Molly did NOT make me eat kids stuff. Molly whispered to

me:



      ‘Do you want to use the little boy’s room?’



      “I shook my head. I did need to go but thought I could wait. I did not

      want to reveal that I was a petticoated boy by going into the male toilet,

      and I did not want to be spanked for using the women’s facilities.”



      Later Molly told me more of the story. We did NOT let Jeanie hear this

part



      “Before I came to baby-sit, I talked to my friend Catherine who lives in

      Northborough. Her 8 year old sister Sophie is fanatical about skipping for

      some reason. I told her of my plan.



      “Before we left I had told Eugene that it should be possible to do my

      shopping and be back home just after lunch. I asked



      “Would you like a nappy, just in case?”



      “He had shaken his head vigorously. Later, as Catherine and I planned, he

      refused to use the little boys room whilst wearing little girl’s clothes.

      I slipped the powder into his coffee.



      “We 'happened' to meet Catherine and Sophie just after lunch . I suggested

      that we buy a skipping rope and that Jeanie could join Sophie whilst we

      older people rested. After about twenty minutes Sophie said:



      “Jeanie’s very slow.”



      “Then we went to a toy shop and bought a much longer skipping rope. This

      time I held one end and Catherine the other. We started slowly but

      gradually s***ded up. Sophie and Jeanie jumped in time. Jeanie found both

      the effort and the concentration hard. I knew one reason for that.



      “Well after about an hour it happened. Sophie seemed very pleased when she

      yelled:



      “Jeanie’s wet her panties.”



      “Well you could see the stream coming from under his or do I mean her

      above he knee dress. Just across from the Park there is “The Economy Drug

      Store”. I had researched and knew that because of obesity and slower

      toilet training they were experimenting with super size 7 disposable

      nappies.



      “I gave Jeanie the money and told him what to buy. I was glad that the

      pack did not say briefs, or good nights, or pull ups but instead said

      NAPPIES. I suspected that they would soon change the label and marketing

      but for today they had the product the child I was babysitting needed with

      the right name. I also told him to buy baby wipes and nappy bags.



      “Now as you know they want men to take a part in child care. So as well as

      the boys and girl’s toilet there is a special place that has both a

      handicapped accessible toilet and a baby changing area that moms or dads

      can use.



      “So, I changed him and put the wet panties into a plastic nappy bag that

      so that he can wash them later.”



      Before we went back home I asked Sophie



      “Do you like skipping?”



      She replied



      “I love skipping, but I am a bit tired and hungry.”



      Then I suggested:



      “If we had a sit down and something to eat and drink, would you like to do

      some more?”



      So we went to a café in the park. I ordered two pints of milk for my half

      brother. The rest of us had coffees except Sophie who had a coke. Now

      Sophie had a cell or mobile phone which allowed her to call in emergencies

      and allowed free calls to her friends. She called them and said that they

      might have a lot of fun watching her and her new friend skip rope.



      Catherine, Molly and I took turns in holding ends of the long skipping

      rope. I thought we were making it go rather too quickly. It was too slow

      for Sophie, who was very expert.



      It also got windy. A little before five PM the moment Sophie was waiting

      for happened. Plainly Jeanie had wet the disposable diaper, probably more

      than once. And the wind started blowing up the skirt. And suddenly people

      could see.



      His diaper was very visibly soggy and sagging. We decided to make sure

      that he kept skipping for another twenty minutes. Instead of



      “I see England, I see France I see ??? Underpants”



      The girls sang



      “I see Gatwick I seek Crawly I see Jeanie’s soggy nappy.”



      He cried.

derry

  • Guest
MY half brother more
« Reply #4 on: February 24, 2006, 12:54:21 PM »
PART 5



Jeanie cried all the way home. We walked him very slowly. I invited not only Molly but also Catherine and Sophie. I kept a firm hold of my half brother’s hand. When we got home Victoria and Barbara were back from work.



I had some questions for my brother.



   “Did Jeanie tell Molly that he did not need to go potty at lunch?”



He nodded.



   “Did Jeanie need to go potty at lunch?”



He nodded.



   “Did Jeanie tell a lie?”



A third nod. Then I said:



   “Will you tell Catherine and Sophie what happens when Jeanie tells a lie?”



He obeyed:



   “When Jeannie tells a lie his mouth is washed out with soap.”



His mother went upstairs and brought a wash cloth and the nastiest tasting soap available. Then Victoria asked:



   “Have you something to ask Catherine and Sophie?”



A pause was followed by.



   “Pwetty please Sophie will you wash my mouth out with soap cos I was VEWY naughty and told a lie.”



Everyone except Jeanie had dinner. We each took a little break out of our lunch to wash my half brother’s soap out. He did not seem pleased. Then Victoria said:



   “Now, Jeanie, you really should not wet panties. You could have used a potty. You could have worn a nappy but instead you went your big girl panties. Now if you are a baby we can just keep you in nappies and let you wear a more suitable dress.”



At that time I showed my half brother that terribly infantile sailor dress, which I had been humiliated by at age 9.



   “We could make some more frocks like this and buy more terry nappies.”



Then Victoria offered the alternative:



   “Alternatively you can say you wet your panties because you were naughty. If you wet your panties because you were naughty you need a lot of spanking.”



So Jeanie said:



   “I have been a vewy naughty girl; pretty please spank me VERY hard.”



So just before he went to bed Jeanie had five heavy spankings. I gave one, Catherine gave one, Molly gave one, Barbara, my mother, gave one and finally his own mother took a turn. Each spanking was as shaming as possible. He lay across the lady’s knees. His dress and petticoat were up. The disposable nappy was half untapped.



Finally Victoria said:



   “If you wet big girl panties again you will be put back in diapers and you will NOT be allowed to use the big girl potty.”



From that evening onwards whenever he was taken out Jeanie would ask the lady or girl in charge:



   “Pwetty please put me in didies, just in case me have accident and go pee pee in my panties.”



Usually we took the chance to make him have milk and cookies, LOTS of milk usually. As we hoped he often needed to be changed. Some days he managed to hold it until he was taken home and was pleased to be able to use the WC. After taking his nappies off we usually put the plastic chastity device that forced him to squat down, like good little girls should.





We got a phone call from Rose, Jeanie’s VERY ex girlfriend. Her sister, Emily, was having her second child. They had heard of the American idea of a “baby shower”. Rose was arranging such an event for her sister, before her happy event.



Victoria took her son out on the Saturday. Roberta and I were with them. We left just after 9am. We took two opportunities to go to cafes whilst shopping. Each such visit included (two pints of) milk and cookies for the person in nappies. We shopped slowly. Roberta had a nice time choosing toys for herself.



At just after eleven thirty Jeanie stopped fidgeting. He whispered to Victoria. Plainly his nappies had come in handy. We carried on shopping until after one PM.   



The last shop we went to “Mothercare”. It was made clear to him that the gift he would be bringing to the baby shower would be a nappy bag. I wondered whether the staff noticed the way he was toddling with the heavy sagging nappies under his dress.



We made him write a card:



   “This nappy bag is for Emily’s baby. It is smaller than my nappy bag because your baby will be littler than I am.”



The baby shower was on Sunday. We walked in the park first. Actually I was not disappointed that despite the extra milk he was still fidgeting when we reached Emily’s. I had made plans with Rose and Emily.



As soon as we arrived Roberta said:



   “Potty please.”



I took my 2 year old step sister upstairs and sat her on the toilet. As I expected, despite the number of guests, Jeanie said:



   “Potty Please.”



The guests had been told about Jeanie. Emily produced a slightly large sized child’s potty. Victoria said:



   “Lift your dress and petticoat Jeanie.”



He obeyed. Then Victoria asked:



   “Sophie, will you pull down Jeanie’s panties.”



My brother, whose 17th birthday was fast approaching, had to let the eight year old pull down his plastic panties, making it absolutely clear that he was indeed wearing old fashioned nappies.



Next I unpinned the napkins.



Finally the potty was placed under Jeanie. His mother put on plastic gloves and pointed his rather small instrument downward.



   “Try do sit like a good girl.”



The squatting position was obviously uncomfortable for my brother who was still holding up his dress and petticoat. Victoria added to his humiliation:



   “Jeanie’s being very good, using the potty instead of panties or nappies. I think we all ought to give some applause.”



Twenty women and girls clapped whilst Jeanie went tinkle into his potty.



   “Hasn’t Jeanie got a nice LITTLE tinkle thing?”



Remarked Aston, Rose’s new boy friend and the only other male present







Life ought to have got a lot easier. After all I should have had no housework and had all the ironing and dish washing done by Jeanie. Sadly it was not quite like that. He just was not very good at what he was doing.



Supposedly ‘clean’ dishes often needed to be washed again. Worst of all several of my favourite items of clothing were ruined by being burnt by the iron. Sometimes he just forgot to do what he was told to do. I said to Victoria:



   “The thing is that your son is not reliable. I do not love doing the chores, but when I do them they are done properly. Jeanie is worse than useless.



   “Roberta is more reliable than her brother.”



Barbara, Victoria and I had a chat. Then we gave Jeanie a warning.



   “Jeannie, if you don’t do your chores properly, we’ll just have to assume that you cannot be trusted with ANY responsibility.”





We had found that there was a cellar which could be made into an okay, if small, room. Mom found a decorating company run by women. Work took place. At this stage Jeanie was NOT shown the decorating style which we were using. Neither was he yet informed that he would be moving into that room.







The day was approaching when school would return after the summer. We were shopping. I suspect that what Victoria said to her son was a bluff but it worked:



   “Jeanie, darling, I think you might not want to go to school the way you are dressed right now.”



He seemed very unclear. He wore the usual jumper styled dress, with bulky nappies and plastic panties just about hidden.



   “I have discovered that your grandfather was Scottish. Scots boys sometimes wear kilts. If you ask very nicely you can go to school in a kilt, petticoat and a disposable nappy instead of a pinafore and terry nappies.”



He actually said:



   “Pretty please can I go to school in a kilt?”



His mother actually bought an elasticised girl’s kilt rather than the proper boy’s style. A waist slip went under it. He would have to be careful not to show off his petticoat.



On the day school started his mother said



   “Do you want terry nappies or disposable ones?”



My half brother then said:



   “Pretty please may I wear a disposable nappy?”



By the end of the first break every girl in his class knew all about what my brother was wearing, at home and underneath. Although it had been said that kilts were boy’s clothing in his grandfather’s home land most boys wanted nothing to do with him. By lunch time every girl in the school and several lady teachers knew.



There were not officially boys and girls sides of the class. However it often worked out that way. I heard from Rose that my brother was always surrounded by girls.



By Wednesday many boys had heard. Aston told me.



   “Some of his former friends had heard about Eugene’s underwear and also about the thing under his nappy.”



The plastic chastity device meant that he would need to sit down to pee as well as to empty his bowels.



   “They made sure he couldn’t get to the stalls.”



So by lunchtime he had wet his disposable nappy. Rose took him to her home. She had prepared. He was then pinned into cloth napkins.



The next day was his birthday. All the girls in his class and mine and lots of other ladies had been invited to a party. It was combining his 17th birthday with a baby shower.

Derry

  • Guest
My half brother continued
« Reply #5 on: March 06, 2006, 01:51:08 PM »
PART 6



A couple of other things had happened. Little Roberta had been waking up in the night and asking for the potty. After a week when her diapers were not needed we put her in training panties at night. We told the toddler that if she kept dry at night until the Thursday, Jeanie’s birthday, she would not need to have training panties either.



Jeanie’s mom had been adding stuff to his late night drinks and meals. He had starting waking up in wet beds. By the morning he was to return to school he woke up in wet nappies.



The day before his birthday he had another problem. Again boys at our school did not let him use the stalls in the restrooms. Of course with the plastic chastity device and his diaper it would not be possible for him to use the urinal.



His second wet nappy at school caused no surprise. However just before lunch something else happened. Everyone smelt it. ‘Jeanie’, as all the boys and girls at his school now called him, had a stinky diaper.



As I said Rose lived very near school. I helped her change the messy smelly disposable. Again we pinned him into bulky cloth diapers for the afternoon, which made him waddle even more noticeably.





That night Victoria asked her son:



   “I know it was VERY embarrassing to have stinky dydees at school. Do you want to risk it tomorrow, on your birthday?”



The child shook his head.



   “Well, tonight, we’ll make sure you don’t mess yourself tomorrow.”



At just after 8pm we put my half brother to bed. As had happened for a week he was pinned into diapers. This time however a disposable was placed underneath them. Just before the left side of the disposable was taped and of the cloth ones were pinned Victoria produced three small objects. She pushed the suppositories into place.



Then he had his new night wear. The footed pajamas had a zip on the back. Other attachments had been tightly sewn in place. A small, but strong pad lock, made it certain that he would have no chance of using the bathroom during the night.



Of course he was wet and stinky when he was woken up about half past five on his birthday morning. Barbara had another surprise. After she had changed him and put him into a disposable diaper she said:



   “Come to the bathroom, I want to make very sure.”



A low chair was ready in the bathroom for ‘Aunt Barbara’ to sit on. Once he was across her knees, as if ready for yet another spanking, I bought in the enema. A pint and a half of soapy water went into the child. Cloth diapers were pinned in place.



VERY quickly the diapers were again needed. He stayed in the soaked messy undies until just before school. He was allowed a dry disposable by the time he left for school.



Again at lunchtime at school he had a wet disposable diaper, under his kilt and petticoat. Rose changed him into clean terry nappies. This time she insisted on his drinking quite a lot of milk.



By the end of the school day his nappies were again wet.



He did not go straight home. Rose took his left hand and I his right. I think he assumed his diapers would be changed. Actually that was the one item of clothing that was not changed. Instead of a kilt with a diaper and petticoat hidden underneath we put him into my old sailor dress. It was so short that his wet, soggy sagging underwear was visible.





We walked him slowly the two miles to our home. Lots of people knew of Eugene’s reputation before the summer. Nobody actually applauded but lots of women smiled. Victoria and Barbara had made plans. A huge posted taking up half the living room wall said:



   “Jeanie’s birthday and baby shower.”



His mother asked:



   “Jeanie, would you like me to change your diapers before the guests appear?”



He replied:



   “Are you really going to put me in another diaper?”



Victoria clarified:



   “No dear, one diaper won’t be enough. However I just wanted to explain that we feel it would help you prepare for your new life if you soaked a bit more.”



Then Barbara explained some more:



   “Now Jeanie, you will open the door to each guest and curtsey and say



      ‘Thank you for coming to my party.’



   “Then I need to explain about the gifts. Firstly YOU will get birthday gifts. These will be for YOU. I expect you to curtsey to the giver and say:



      ‘Thank you very much for the, whatever the gift is, I will find it very useful.’



   “Of course if you fancy being rude there will be LOTS of people who would LOVE to spank you. I think it would be quite fun to have 30 or so people each having a chance to put you across your knees.”



For the next hour or so the doorbell went almost continuously. Most of the guests were girls from my class or Jeanie’s own. Each time he curtsied and said



   “Thank you for coming to my party.”



As intended the curtsey not only more fully revealed his diapers, but also how much they were sagging and how damp they were.



When all the guests had arrived I pushed little Roberta forward. She had a gift. He curtsied and said.



   “Thank you very much for the towel, I will find it most useful.”



I said:



   “It is NOT a towel. This is my gift to you and it goes with Roberta’s present.”



I handed him the present. The package clearly said ‘nappy pins’. He had to curtsey to me and say



   “Thank you very much for the diaper pins. I am sure I will find them most useful.”



Next he had to curtsey to Roberta again and say



   “Thank you vewy much for the diaper. I am sure I will find it most useful.”



Thirty three girls each gave him a cloth diaper. Each was gift wrapped. He had to undo each wrapping, although he must have known what was inside. Then my half brother had to curtsey and thank each girl in the same way. My mom and his did not give him diapers. They each gave him 6 pairs of plastic baby panties. Again he had to curtsey and say



   “Thank you vewy much for the plastic baby panties. I sure I will find them most useful.”



By this time I was VERY glad that Rose had pinned him into 3 cloth diapers and put two pairs of plastic panties over them. Barbara then said:



   “That’s all of Jeanie’s birthday gifts; it is time for the baby shower gifts. The first is mine, this way.”



Barbara unlocked a door. She led her step son and his mother down the stairs. She opened another door at the bottom.



   “Here is the nursery.”



The cellar room did not look like a cellar any more. It was beautifully decorated. Then I said:



   “And my gift is a baby monitor. It means that everyone can hear what is happening in the nursery.”



I went upstairs but I knew the gifts. The wrappings made many of them obvious. There was an over sized baby buggy and High Chair. Each of these had special fittings. There were three pairs of mittens. Each was designed to look pretty but make it impossible for him to undo buttons, feed himself or touch diaper pins. Each also had a little clip.



The clips were a bit like the fitting on key rings. They allowed mittens to be fastened to the high chair or stroller so that he could not get into mischief. Aston went downstairs. There were not many men at this party. Aston’s gifts were a half a dozen of the fussiest cutest little baby frocks you ever saw.



I watched as his mother fitted the mittens onto his hands and locked them in place. Then she had him lift each foot. Each shoe was replaced by a pair of booties, which were also secured in place and had extra fittings.



The next gift was the changing table. All the fittings for dealing with difficult babies were explained to my half brother. First I had him on my knees and removed his dress. Then I lifted him on to the changing table. In fact he cooperated with the diaper change. We had also warned him to be good and only talk baby talk. So he said



   “Ab goo go gaga..”



Whilst he talked baby talk, his mother slowly pulled down his plastic panties. I had a video camera and was recording the event. The 17 year old actually nodded and made happy noised when his mother said things like



   “Are we a very wet baba? Are we the wettest little Miss Puddle panties in the World?”



His mother took her time. I think the change took about twenty minutes. Next came other clothing. It consisted of a kind of baby vest that was also locked in place. It was small enough that the bulky diapers were very visible but tight enough that he would not be able to reach the diaper pins, even if he found a way to use his hands. Then there was a baby doll nightie.



Rose had made the crib. I lifted my half brother from the changing table and put him onto the crib. I clipped his mittens and booties. He could move his arms and legs a little but would have no chance of escaping even with the crib side down Rose explained about the crib:



   “Look, the crib can be moved but can also be clipped in place.”



There was a large cupboard set in the wall. The crib was slid under it. That meant that there were only about 4 inches between the top of the crib bars and freedom.



Then “Aunt Barbara” brought Roberta down into the new baby’s nursery. It was the 25 month old toddler that gave the oversized infant his first baby bottle feed. Sarah and Sophie also took turns and so did Daisy. All the girls giving the infant his first feed were under 10.





We had made very special plans for what we planned as a “Rebirth” period. He weighed 110 pounds. It was the equivalent of 16 times the weight of a new born. Some books recommended 3 hour feedings for new borns



We did decide to give the baby 8 feeds a day. However we had particular plans. Sometimes there would be as little as half an hour between the times. At other times there might be eleven hours.



We turned down the light in the nursery. He would be able to see but not clearly. We placed, at a low but audible level, a circular tape with nursery rhymes and babyish songs.



We always made sure we shut the door at the top of the stairs before opening the one at the bottom. There was no window in the nursery. He had no way of knowing how much time had passed. For the first few nights we put some tasteless caffeine in his feeds and gave him most of the feeds during the night. On that first night he had four feeds at intervals varying from 25 minutes to 70 minutes.



We allowed longer periods between feeds during daylight for the first few days. We mixed nightol, a non prescription sleeping medication in with the feeds.



Within 4 days the child had no way of guessing if it was day or night. Feeding and nappy changing were the highlights of his life. This was especially true, as we had altered the way we pinned them. With his hands not available we did not need to pin them in a way which prevented masturbation. If he was wet when we first came down and checked his diaper the carer would say:



   “Has Eugene wet his dydees like a real baba?”



Then his diaper would be rubbed in a careful way. Then he would be fed. Then, at change time, a soaked napkin would be used to masturbate him again.

derry

  • Super Sissy
  • ********
  • Posts: 94
  • Karma: +24339/-3
My half brother by Derry
« Reply #6 on: June 15, 2012, 01:31:39 PM »
After a month I was sure that Jeanie NEEDED his nap naps. We also insisted that he talked baby talk. He needed some soapy mouths.



So by half term he was ready for day care. Little Roberta also needed care in the day because her mother was at work. Roberta was with the bigger children, who mostly used the potty chair or the bathroom.



Jeanne spent his time with the babies. At my suggestion he got lots of bottles, with specially additions. He was pinned into single nappies. Most days he had 7 nappy changes lying next to kids varying from new born to 18 months.



The kids across the fence, aged 2 and a half to 4 really enjoyed teasing the bigger baby.



We walked him around the shopping malls every Saturday, when it was most crowded. He was mittened and in reins.



If anyone asked about why he was dressed like that he said



    ”Me act like baba, me need naps naps.”



And I would add



    ”And  HIS dress is not only pretty but practical at change time.”



A few years later he was to face the humiliation of little Roberta helping with his nappy changes

 

The more you give, the more I can give back.

The dots in the map below represent every person who visited Betty's since May 17, 2020. Blinking dots show people currently here. However if you haven't clicked on anything in a couple minutes your dot won't blink until you click on something again.

























Web
Analytics

Hits to Betty's Pubs since Sept. 30th, 2004

eXTReMe Tracker

Website, forum design, software, & security on this site is copyrighted. It was made personally by Betty Pearl, of Betty Pearl's Pubs, Sissy Stories, buffalobetties, pearlcorona. Betty's Pub is a non-profit organization & support group for the transgendered, & Fetware community. We don't sell anything, & we don't data mine your personal information & habits to sell like MOST other sites do. We respect your privacy & won't sell it out for a few bucks.

Site for: Sissy Stories, ABDL Stories, Sissy Art, Crossdressing, Transgender