The Prissy Princess Correctional Club

[sissykimmy1]

“Thank you, Nana,” he dutifully replied.

“Open it,” she said.

He took the purse in his hands and opened it by the golden cupcake shaped clasp. He reached inside to pull out the contents and gasped in genuine admiration. From the purse he had retrieved a small ivory comb and brush.

“I’ve had these for as long as I’ve had Miss Priscilla, but they’re even older than that.  They were given to me by my Nana and now I’m giving them to you.  You have to comb and brush Miss Priscilla’s hair every single day to keep it nice and neat and untangled for her so she can look her prettiest.  Will you do that?”

“Yes, Nana,” Shawn said.  He looked down at the beautifully intricate carvings of flowers and butterflies on the ivory comb and brush and admired the exquisite handmade craftsmanship of the antiques. They looked like something that belonged in a history museum. He started to gently brush Miss Priscilla’s hair and his nervousness started to fade into a feeling of calmness. A thought occurred to him, “Nana, was my tea set yours too?”

She smiled at him, “Oh yes. My father brought it back for me after the war.  He claimed he took it from an abandoned German castle and it had once belonged to a Bavarian princess.  I think he just made up that poppycoc-k to entertain me. But you can believe whatever you want, girl.”

“Thank you, Nana.  You’re very kind.” Shawn was feeling heavy with conflicted feelings. The old woman was showering him with very valuable, unique, and heartfelt gifts, but all were suitable for a delicate little girl. These things by all rights should have gone to the twins, but it seemed like their grandmother had realized they were moving away from being the sort of girly-girls who would appreciate gifts of that sort.  The old woman was treating Shawn, their very best friend and so called “triplet,” as the next logical choice to keep up her legacy.

“Nana, can you tell me more about what it was like when you were little?  During the war?” Shawn asked in genuine interest. 

She gently patted him on the knee. “No time for that.  You have a job to do, remember?  We have to get going.  But how about this, next Sunday you and I and Miss Priscilla will get all dressed up nice and pretty and go out for a fancy tea together with the ladies.  After that we’ll go to town and shop for a pretty new frock for you.  Then, we’ll go to the toy store and get you more clothes for your dolls.  I want to show you my appreciation for volunteering as flower girl, you really saved the day.  We’ll have all the time in the world to talk.  Would you like that, girl?”

Shawn nodded, “Yes, Nana.”  Regardless of his conflicted feelings about the gifts and his future as a Prissy Princess, he felt an obligation to be nice to this woman because of what he had done to her antique doll and because of how she had seemingly forgiven him and decided to treat him like a member of her own family.    He stopped brushing Miss Priscilla’s hair and carefully laid the brush down beside the comb on his skirt and shifted himself even closer to her and looked up at her. The two held hands.  “Please stop calling me ‘Girl,’ Nana. It’s Little Miss Shawna, Nana. I’m a Prissy Princess.”

She hugged him and laughed.  “Okay, if it means that much to you, a princess it is then.  Are you ready, Little Miss Shawna?”

He nodded and smiled at her. “Yes, Nana. I’m ready.”

His Nana helped Shawn out of the limo and helped him manage his skirts with assistance from the considerate chauffeur who smiled and complimented him on his pretty dress, treating him like any other flower girl. His Nana led him to a large tent being set up for the outdoor reception.  It was empty aside from workers setting up the tables and decorations.  In the center there was a dance floor set up. His new Nana from his newly adopted second family explained his role as flower girl and had him practice on the dance floor.  She became extremely frustrated when it became clear he was utterly incapable of walking in the dress without help.  “You’re not getting any help during the ceremony, Princess, you have to do it all by yourself.   You better learn to do it right.”

He took smaller and smaller mincing little steps around the dance floor but still couldn’t quite manage not to trip on his skirts. “I’m trying Nana but it’s hard,” he whined, “It’s my first day in skirts,” he pouted.

His new Nana put her hands on his waist and lifted him up on to his tip toes from behind.  “Try it like this,” she told him.

He started to mince around the room taking as tiny dainty little steps as he could nearly on his tip toes and to his amazement he was now moving around on the dance floor much more gracefully without tripping on his own skirts.  His Nana then drilled him on how to manage the lace trail of the dress without help and how to sit and stand up in the dress and how to curtsy properly.  All of this he quickly picked up now that he had mastered the basics of moving in the dress.

Proceeding a particularly proper Prissy Princess curtsy she beamed at him and announced, “You’re a natural. Are you sure this is your first time in skirts?”  She tickled his stomach over the white bodice of his dress and asked impishly, “Your first time wearing your sister’s knickers?”

He blushed as he giggled from the tickling.  It was the sort of compliment any boy would be embarrassed by even if he was starting to come to terms with the requirements of his new Prissy Princess identity, “Yes, Nana. It’s my first time ever.”

“What a shame,” she replied, “They absolutely suit you perfectly, Princess.  You should have been in skirts years ago.”

“Yes, Nana,” he submissively replied.

He was handed a white basket full of purple and white flowers. He carried Miss Priscilla, his copy of the Prissy Princess Guidebook, and his new little purse in the basket as well.  He was introduced to everyone in the wedding party as Little Miss Shawna, an extremely dear friend of the family who was filling in for the twins as flower girl. The bridesmaids and the bride, the twin’s Aunt Janet, absolutely went mad at the sight of him.

They surrounded him and hugged him and kissed him and fussed with his spectacular dress and he could barely keep track of who was speaking, but he was used to being surrounded by chattering overbearing girls with British accents so he endured the situation with practiced patience.

“Oh. My. God. He’s adorable!”

“He’s beautiful!”

“I’ve never seen such a fancy frock for a flower girl!”

“So cute!”

[sissykimmy1]

“He’s twee to the max!”

“He looks so nice! He’s perfect!”

“What an image! He’s darling! He’s like a little dolly!”

“He’s a little angel!”

“He’s a little cupcake!”

“He’s a PRISSY PRINCESS!”  They all squealed with delight.

And then his Nana told him it was time.  He took a deep breath. There was no turning back now.

-

AT THE CONCLUSION OF THEIR PRISSY PRINCESS TRIAL PERIOD, EVERY PRISSY PRINCESS ANNOUNCES HIS OWN PRISSY PRINCESS SPECIAL UNIQUE TITLE AT HIS PRISSY PRINCESS SPECIAL CEREMONY FULL OF FANCY POMP!  BUT THAT’S NOT ALL!  EVERY PRISSY PRINCESS IS PRIVILEGED TO RECEIVE A SPECIAL UNIQUE PRISSY PRINCESS TIARA AND SCEPTRE TO CONFIRM HIS REGAL PRISSY PRINCESS STATUS!

In your Prissy Princess workbook, write about what it will take to pass your Prissy Princess Trial Period. What ways have you come up with to publicly renounce your masculinity and make amends to those you wronged? In your Prissy Princess art book, draw a picture of what your own special unique Prissy Princess tiara and sceptre will look like.  Have you decided what your Prissy Princess title will be?  If so, make sure your drawing matches it.  If not, try and draw several different tiaras and sceptres and see if they give you the inspiration you need.  Who will you be?  The Prissy Princess of Purple Posy Petticoats? Angelic White Snowcones? Loyal Lime Pie? You had better choose soon, with enough Prissy Princess Good Behavior your Prissy Princess Special Ceremony could come sooner than you think. :)

Chapter 7: Prissy Princess Proclamation

Shawn still couldn’t believe the role he was now forced to play.  A day ago he had been an outcast but fairly average boy.  Today he was wearing his sister’s little girly underwear, carrying a doll given to him by The Twin Tormentors, and forced to dress and act as the perfect Prissy Princess flower girl.  He felt the butterflies in his stomach and felt the warm pink light.  Wouldn’t it be so much easier if he just forgot about being a boy?  He thought about that Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place, that seed of an idea his sister had planted in his mind. 

“It’s time, Princess, didn’t you hear me?” his Nana asked.  “Are you feeling okay?”

He heard the music that was his cue to start walking down the aisle.  No matter how nice his Nana and the members of the wedding party had been, no matter how much humiliation he had been through already that day, he knew he was at his limit.  What remained of his male ego could not allow him to go through with this. 

There was no way out of it though. There was only one thing he could do to force himself to go through with it. He started to whisper to himself very quietly, “Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place.”

“Shawna, are you okay?” His Nana asked again.

He closed his eyes and kept whispering while trying with all his might to forget he had ever been a boy.  Trying desperately to forget there was anything strange or out of the ordinary about his effeminate behavior, “Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place!”

“Shawna!” his Nana said more forcefully.

He opened his eyes as he felt the warm pink light envelop him entirely.  He let the butterflies in his stomach fly free.  He felt a tingling sensation of perfect happiness in every part of his body. “I feel fab, Nana! I’m so excited for everyone to see me in my pretty flower girl frock! I just wish Mummy was here to see me!”

He minced down the aisle.  He sighed with delight, enjoying the warm sunshine and all the pomp of the wedding ceremony with everyone dressed up so nice, especially him in his incredible prissy dress.  He smiled at everyone he saw.  He reached into the basket and spread flowers in front of him as he took his mincing little steps. 

Halfway down the aisle, he found himself gracefully skipping forward instead, his skirts proving no hindrance whatsoever.  He heard laughter at this but in his Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place he heard it as laughing with him rather than at him and he giggled at how silly he was right along with them. He tossed more petals and smiled and waved happily at everyone he saw and swished his skirts this way and that as he pranced forward.  People continued to giggle at his girlish exuberance for the role. When he came to his seat in the front row, he turned and executed a perfect curtsy to all the wedding guests and received scattered applause in response.  He smiled and waved to the crowd one more time before he daintily took his seat with his basket held in his lap. He was still lost in the happy pink fog when he looked down into the bottom of his white basket, now empty of flower petals, and saw a pink envelope with “Little Miss Shawna” printed on it in his sister’s precise business like handwriting. Beside the envelope was another Prissy Princess Special Treat as well. 

“A letter from big sis!  I’m so happy she gave me her pretty knickers and let me be a Prissy Princess! This is the best day ever!” he thought.

He opened the envelope and immediately came crashing out of his Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place when he saw what was inside.  It was a picture of him in his baseball uniform.  Fighting back tears he stuffed the picture back in the envelope and returned it to the basket.

The ring bearer beside him, a cousin of the twins, looked over at him in concern.  He had been inching away from the insanely girly-girl boy ever since he sat down, outwardly polite as he had been instructed but unable to hide his discomfort with the other boy’s outrageously sissy behavior and image. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Shawn nodded and kept trying not to cry. He picked up the Prissy Princess Special Treat and ate it to distract him from what he was feeling.  He savored the strange artificially sweet candy with its rich, herbal, bubblegum taste.

[sissykimmy1]

He took Miss Priscilla from the basket and held her particularly tightly.  He couldn’t get his mind off the stark reminder of how far he had fallen in just one day.  He stewed and seethed in humiliation at what he had been forced to do.  But the butterflies wouldn’t quite leave his stomach and the pink glow wouldn’t quite fade away.   They remained there on the edge of his awareness. Something had changed in him when he willingly and deliberately embraced the Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place and only left it because the picture had made him confront reality.  A real boy would never completely abandon his masculinity like that on purpose. He suddenly felt more emasculated than he had all day and he couldn’t shake the feeling.

A part of him had changed forever.  He knew it.  Even if he was to wake up the next day to hear his mother explain that he wasn’t really expected to carry on as a Prissy Princess, that it was just one day to scare him straight, he knew there would always be a Prissy Princess part of him.  No matter how much he tried to behave like a real man, he would always feel a little like he was wearing his sister's panties.  He would always feel a little like he was surrounded by purple taffeta skirts.  He would always feel a little like he needed a pretty dolly to comfort him. But he knew deep down that his mother would not be doing anything of the sort.  He was a Prissy Princess now and forever unless he finally found the will to fight and run away.  He had to.  It was his only choice.

Those were the thoughts that ran through the humiliated and emasculated boy’s mind for the rest of the wedding ceremony.  He smiled and followed his Nana’s instructions after the wedding as he posed for picture after picture, the jovial smile locked on his face despite his true feelings. As he held his Nana’s hand while she led him back to the reception tent though, his feelings betrayed him again.  Just like in the car earlier, he started to feel a strange euphoria overcome him.  He felt lightheaded and happy despite having no way to explain why he was feeling that way.  He was again entranced by the silky smoothness of his clothing. His mind drifted from total vacancy for minutes at a time to deep thinking about meaningless details of the day. He started to lose track of time and felt odd and slightly confused.   

He was suddenly ravenously hungry, having eaten nothing all day besides the two sugar free Prissy Princess Special Treats. When his meal came he saw that he had received a vegetarian meal.  All he had to eat was a small salad and a zestily spiced sautĂ©ed tofu dish with a spring vegetable risotto on the side. Under Nana’s close supervision and instruction he ate extremely carefully and slowly and primly and properly knowing there would be absolute hell to pay if even a crumb of food fell on his fantastic dress.  The meal was actually very good, if not filling, but he looked at everyone else eating steak or chicken or fish with envy.  Another note from his sister came along with the meal, which he opened with much trepidation, but it simply said, “Page 13, soy boy.”

He opened the Prissy Princess Guidebook, glitter from the cover once again coating his hands, and turned to the page.  He read that all Prissy Princesses are vegetarians because killing animals hurts their very tender and sensitive Prissy Princess feelings and makes them cry.  He was ready to cry himself, realizing that on top of everything else he was suffering he would never be allowed to eat his favorite foods like bacon or hamburgers or fried chicken ever again.

Later, towards the end of the reception, his mother and sister and The Twin Tormentors finally arrived, all dressed in suave pantsuits.  The four ladies and his Nana led him outside the tent and away from the crowd and surrounded him again.

“Hi Shawny!” the twin on the left said.

“Hi Shawny!” the twin on the right in the identical white pantsuit said.

“We won our match! Two-nil, Shawny!  We’re champions!” the one on the left continued.

“We both scored!” the one on the right added.

“We got trophies, Shawny!” the one on the left said.

“Big ones!  And not Cuddleball participation trophies like little sissy fairies like you get, Dolly Destroyer!” the one on the right exclaimed and both twins laughed mockingly at him while Shawn could only seethe in anger. 

All of a sudden his newly adopted Nana did something amazing.  Shawn’s jaw dropped and he looked down at the ground and did everything he possibly could to hide his delight in fear of future reprisal. The old woman slapped the both of them right upside their identical little heads. 

“Ow! Nana!” they both exclaimed and rubbed their heads.  “Why, Nana?”

“It’s not fair, Nana,” the one on the left added.

“Enough!” She shouted.  “Is this your best mate or not?  Your triplet?  Well you’re not acting like it.  He’s doing everything he can to make up for what he did. Much more than most would. Don’t you see how difficult this is for him and how hard he’s working to save your friendship?”

The old woman put her hand on Shawn’s shoulder protectively, “He clearly adores the both of you, for some strange reason, and he’s very sorry for what he did to Miss Priscilla.  It’s time for you three to make up and be best mates again.  No more making fun of my little princess.  Do you hear me?”

The twins just stood there in shock.  Never in their life had they been so harshly reprimanded.  Taking all the blame when trouble happened was what Shawn was for. 

His mother addressed the two girls, “It’s the responsibility of Champion Girls to coddle and protect Prissy Princesses.  If you’re going to join the class, you are going to learn responsibility.  Is that clear?”

The chastised twins nodded.  They did something they had never, ever done before during the entire time the three had known each other. 

They apologized.  “I’m sorry, Shawny,” said the one on the left.

“We won’t torment you anymore, Shawny,” the one on the right continued, “We’re sorry.”

“We really do like you Shawny,” the one on the left said.

“You’re fun,” the one on the right said.

“You’re sweet,” the one on the left said.

“You’re nice,” the one on the right said.  “We didn’t fit in with the other kids at school. They didn’t like us.”

“We’re glad you were our friend anyway.  We shouldn’t have been so mean.  We were just teasing at first,” the one left said.

“But it got out of hand, Shawny.  It’s just, you know
you’re soft and so sensitive.  Like a princess.  It’s easy to upset you.  You take everything so seriously,” the one on the right continued.

“And it’s funny sometimes. Okay? The way you overreact?” the one on the left explained. 

[sissykimmy1]

His mother spoke up, “It’s not his fault, girls.  He was trying to be something he wasn’t.  A boy.  And it made him try to act like he was better than you because you’re girls.  It’s completely natural that you felt the need to put him in his place.  But he’s not hiding who he is anymore and trying to pose like he’s a man.  He’s going to accept being a Prissy Princess and he needs his two best friends to help and protect him.  The only thing he should ever be mocked for is trying to act like a boy again, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, will it, Cupcake?”

“No, Mommy,” Shawn quietly replied.

He looked to the twin to his left.  “Thank you for being my best friend, Diane.”  She smiled and pulled up her shirt, revealing the birthmark.

He looked to the twin on the right, “Thank you for being my best friend, Karen.”  She smiled back at him as well.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Little Miss Shawna?” his sister asked.

He looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean, Miss Cindy?” he asked.

“Prissy Princess Polite Correctness says you should refer to all unmarried girls as ‘Miss’ when you address them to show your respect. That isn’t just a title for big sister. PPPC is very important for a Prissy Princess.  The words a Prissy Princess uses matter very much and they must speak the way they are told to speak. I know you don’t want to do Prissy Princess Bad Behavior and earn another spanking, right, Little Miss Shawna?  I know you haven’t finished reading your Prissy Princess Guidebook yet so we’ll let it slide just this one time, but don’t expect this leniency ever, ever again.

“PPPC is no joke, and there are many, many more rules to follow besides just this one.  It’s not something you argue with even if it doesn’t make sense to you. Your guardians and the Prissy Princess Board of Directors know better than you about what language is appropriate for you to use.  It’s not something you can just violate, even by accident, and expect not to be severely punished.  For a Prissy Princess, following PPPC is the law and there are no excuses to break it.”

“Yes, Miss Cindy, I’m sorry Miss Cindy,” he obsequiously replied. “Miss Diane, Miss Karen.  I’m very sorry for being disrespectful.  And for pretending I didn’t want Miss Priscilla and hurting her. Please forgive me, for everything.”

The triplets came together in a hug. “We forgive you, Shawny,” the two replied together.

It was announced to a mentally and physically exhausted Shawn that he had to face one final ordeal.  He was going to have to endure something called a “Prissy Princess Special Ceremony.”  His mother, the twins, and his new Nana went back inside the reception tent to prepare. 

He was left alone with his older sister. He nervously held his hands tightly together on his skirt.  She looked down at him and sneered.

“I can’t believe you’re letting us do this to you. I always knew you were a little bitch, but I can’t believe it really took just one day for you to totally accept turning into a Prissy Princess. You’re my brother, and I made you wear my panties and a fuc-king ridiculous dress all day.  Look at you.  I bet you regret making fun of me for being a girly-girl now, don’t you?”

He stared down at the ground in absolute mortification and fear.  His lip was quivering and tears were in his eyes.

Cindy smiled as she took in the sight of her cowering little brother. Shawn could tell she was barely able to contain her complete and absolute pleasure and glee at doing this to him.  His mother had a feminist political agenda and thought she was changing the world for the better. His Nana just wanted a girly-girl granddaughter to dote on and carry on her legacy.  The Twin Tormentors were immature and just wanted companionship but let their teasing get completely out of hand and turn to bullying.  But his sister was different from all of them.  She just wanted to see him suffer emasculation because something about it made her feel good.  She was brilliant, she was capable, she was driven, and she was pure sadistic evil.  Shawn knew deep down, he wasn’t going to be the last boy to suffer at her hands. She was going to make doing this kind of thing her life’s work, somehow.  He prayed that one day someone would be brave and strong enough to stand up and put a stop to her, but he knew that person wouldn’t be him.

“It’s not fair,” he couldn’t stop himself from whining with tears in his eyes.

His sister crossed her arms. “Prissy Princess Bad Behavior. It looks like you’ll be getting one more spanking before bed tonight.  If Mom wasn’t so intent on having you pass your trial period so fast so she could show you off as her star pupil, I’d make you a Prissy Princess Pottypants this very second for talking back to me.  I’d love to watch you wetting your diaper and drinking from a bottle in front of my baseball team.”

“It’s time for my Prissy Princess Special Ceremony, Miss Cindy,” he whispered.

“That’s right. It is. SHAWN.”

He could only sob in reply.

He was led by his mother towards the slightly elevated stage that had been set up for the band with his sister, The Twin Tormentors, and his adopted Nana following closely behind. 

“Now, Little Miss Shawna.  It’s time for you to make a choice,” his mother explained.  “This is your very last chance.  I’ll bet you figured out by now that we were exaggerating your legal troubles.  We paid for the broken window and for restoring Miss Priscilla and that was really the end of it.  But your behavior has to change.  If you refuse to go through with your ceremony, we’ll be sending you to a military boarding school until you're eighteen, and we will never see you again. All of the pictures and videos from today will be destroyed so you will have a totally fresh start.  If you do go through with it, you’ll be a Prissy Princess forever.  So, what’s it going to be?”

Shawn shook in confusion, his exhausted mind having difficulty following the revelations.  He had been confused and light headed ever since eating his Prissy Princess Special Treat several hours before.  “I’m...I’m not going to juvenile hall?”

Shawn refused to believe it was true. He couldn’t accept that he had so humiliated and emasculated himself over a lie. They were tricking him or lying to him again, he was sure of it. His sister would never allow it, he was absolutely dead certain.  As he minced along he tried to imagine himself in military school but had difficulty seeing it in his mind after the day he had been through. The idea terrified him.  He knew something had changed in him when he skipped down the aisle as a flower girl in his Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Military school could never change him back into what he used to be.

Wouldn’t it just be easier?  Wouldn’t it be safer?  Didn’t he have no choice, really? “I’ll do the ceremony, Mommy,” he whispered and nodded. “I’m a Prissy Princess.”

[sissykimmy1]

Of course, he was correct that the choice was actually a lie.  If he had refused the ceremony the only thing that would have happened is that he would be spending some time as Baby Miss Shawna, a Prissy Princess Pottypants, until he changed his ways.  The choice was a test from his mother, and he had passed.  To anyone who looked, it would seem he had joined the Prissy Princess Correctional Club totally of his own free will.

He took his mincing little steps towards the stage. He gracefully curtsied and took his seat on a little throne like chair, surrounded again by his voluminous skirts.  His sister held a pillow with a purple silk cloth covering some object or objects.  He was handed a piece of paper rolled up like a scroll and tied with a pink ribbon. He opened the scroll and read it silently and then he froze, the audience waiting expectantly for him to continue.

“Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place,” he very quietly whispered. “Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place.”

In a loud and bright voice with a distinct hint of a British accent, he smiled and read , “Hear ye, Hear ye!

“This is a very special Prissy Princess Proclamation officially endorsed by the Prissy Princess Correctional Club Board of Directors in Clearwater, Florida. 

“The holder of this scroll has successfully undergone a Prissy Princess Correctional Club Trial Period.  With total willingness he has publicly made amends with those he has wronged, publicly renounced his masculinity, and publicly committed to a lifetime of full and total well behaved Prissy Princess effeminacy. 

“In recognition of his status as a willing Prissy Princess Correctional Club inductee, with a successful trial period of Prissy Princess behavior meeting club inductee standards, the holder of this scroll is hereby declared a full and regal member in good standing upon publicly completing this Prissy Princess Proclamation.”

“Henceforth, I shall be known as Little Miss Shawna, and I’m the Prissy Princess of
” He froze.  He had read that he was supposed to pick his Prissy Princess title, but there hadn’t been any time.  His trial period had gone much quicker than he had expected.

He looked at the crowd of people waiting for him and saw his sister.  He  crashed out of the Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place.

He had to stop this.  All he had to do was refuse to keep reading.  He would run away and he could go back to being a boy again.  Military school or juvenile hall could be terrible but at least he could play baseball.  And he wouldn’t have to put up with the Twin Tormentors, even if they promised not to bully him anymore. So what if he felt like a sissy now?  He could get over it, couldn’t he?  They did this to him on purpose.  They just threw him in the Prissy Princess deep end and expected him to drown in it.  But he didn’t have to, he could fight back.

He rolled up the paper and stared up at his sister and mother, ready to finally reclaim his dignity.  But just at that moment his sister removed the cloth covering the items on the pillow.  His eyes opened wide.  He started to feel the pink glow and the butterflies in his stomach once more.  He could feel the happy little Prissy Princess skipping down the street inside his mind.  Before he knew it he was standing with a huge grin on his face.

His sister removed the tiara from his head, the one that now seemed to Shawn like a cheap toy in comparison, and replaced it with the one from the pillow. The tiara prominently featured a huge purple gem in the shape of a cupcake.  His sister handed him the matching sparkling silver and purple sceptre as well.  She put the pink sash proclaiming him a Prissy Princess on over the bodice of his dress. 

He continued, his voice showing no more hesitation, only pride and a hint of a British accent.  “Henceforth, I shall be known as Little Miss Shawna, and I’m the Prissy Princess of LAVENDER LACE CUPCAKES!” 

He absolutely swooned with happiness as he waved to the wedding guests who applauded him despite their confusion at the odd display. 

His mother presented him with the cupcake from earlier, the single candle now lit.  He was instructed to blow out the candle and make a wish.  Still trembling with delight, he announced his wish, “There’s nothing else in the world I want more than lots and lots of Prissy Princess friends to play with!”

With his final little step to becoming a Prissy Princess complete, he stood on the stage in his Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place. There was an adorable dollop of purple frosting on his nose from taking a bite of the cupcake. He smiled and felt sure that one day soon his wish would come true.

-

JUST BECAUSE YOU’VE COMPLETED YOUR PRISSY PRINCESS SPECIAL CEREMONY DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE DONE PRISSY PRINCESS LEARNING AND GROWING!  ONE DAY YOU’LL TAKE YOUR NEXT STEPS AND BECOME A PRISSY PRINCESS TWEEN SUPREME! 

In your Prissy Princess workbook, write about what you think it takes to become a Prissy Princess Tween Supreme and how excited you are for the opportunity.  Just think of all the fancy new clothes you’ll be able to wear. As a Prissy Princess Pottypants you wore clothing suitable for a three year old or younger traditional girl. As a Prissy Princess you wear clothes suitable for a four to eight year old traditional girl.  But as a Prissy Princess Tween Supreme you’ll be privileged to wear clothes suitable for a nine to twelve year old traditional girl!  Wow, do you think you’re mature enough for that? It’s going to take a lot of work to earn such a prestigious Prissy Princess privilege.  In your Prissy Princess art book, draw a picture of what you might look like when you finally earn the privileges of a Prissy Princess Junior Miss. :)

[sissykimmy1]

Part 2: The Days After

Chapter 8: Prissy Princess Lovely and Lonesome 

Several months later a happily humming Little Miss Shawna skipped from his new house on the school grounds, with Karen and Diane serving as chaperone.  At first some of the other Champion Girls had made fun of them for having a Prissy Princess as a best friend, and doing things like sitting with a Prissy Princess for their communal meals instead of with them.  They laughed when he would insist on holding their hands or spontaneously kiss them on the cheek.  But they soon learned it was a mistake to try and mess with The Twin Tormentors. They were two of the toughest young Champion Girls in the school and they didn’t let anyone push them around.  Thinking their companionship with a Prissy Princess meant they were any less Champion Girls was a big mistake. Competition and even fighting like this was encouraged in Champion Girls to help toughen them up. Besides, the Champion Girls soon learned that coddling and protecting a Prissy Princess was a way to earn favor and status in the Champion Girl Promotion Club as it was a sign of maturity and readiness to eventually become a Champion Girl head of household with a Prissy Princess spouse.

The most important duty of a Champion Girl was to be a KISA, a Knight In Shining Armor, and prevent a Prissy Princess from becoming a DDID, a Ditzy Damsel In Distress. A Prissy Princess became a DDID in any situation in which they found themselves in danger. However, most commonly saying a Prissy Princess was a DDID was a polite way of saying they had gone missing.  Who can guess why such a thing would happen to a Prissy Princess?  With their vacant, happy little heads full of thoughts of sugar and spice and flowers and fun, it’s natural they would be prone to losing track of where they were as they skipped along through life.  Every Prissy Princess carried a notecard in their purse with emergency instructions if they ever found themselves a DDID.  It told them that if they were in no immediate danger to stay where they were and hand the note to a responsible adult.  The note would tell the adult that the holder of the note was a Ditzy Damsel and was likely scared and confused.  It listed a phone number for the Prissy Princess Correctional Club headquarters in Clearwater and reminded the reader that Prissy Princess Ditzy Damsels were legally mandated to remain under supervision by order of either the courts or their guardians.  Failing to provide aid could in some cases be a crime.

Because the vacant, happy Prissy Princesses were so likely to have Ditzy Damsel moments, they were always closely chaperoned by an assigned Champion Girl or other mature individual when they were out of their schools or homes, even outside on the school grounds with the very tall wall surrounding it. 

The triplets made their way together to the front gate.  “Hi Nana!” Shawna squealed and curtsied. The hint of a British accent in his voice was now permanent, whether he was inside the Prissy Princess Happy Safe Place or out.  He was on the edges of it at least, hearing it’s siren call, most of the time now. 

“You look lovely today, Princess. What a pretty new frock!  Where did that one come from? I don’t remember buying it for you,” his Nana replied. The two had made their Sunday tea with the ladies and shopping trips a weekly appointment they never missed. Sometimes they would go on other special Sunday outings, to see a flower show or a new Disney Princess movie or to the ballet or other similar activities suitable for a lady and the little granddaughter she doted on. His Nana’s friends loved Little Miss Shawna, as did the old ladies at the senior center where he did his community service. It was odd for the old ladies to see a boy acting the way Shawna did.  But eventually he won them over because his femininity reminded them of what girls were like when they were younger.  It was a version of cute, adorable, old fashioned femininity many of them missed seeing in modern girls so Little Miss Shawna was a good substitute.

Shawna had found that he did enjoy being doted on and treated nicely and coddled and protected. He felt safe and warm and happy in his role, feelings he had never had as an outcast boy who could never live up to people’s expectations of him.

Shawna beamed in pride. “Oh, Nana!  I made it from a pattern!” He twirled in the knee length pale green and white checkered gingham dress, with a simple lace trim on the hem.  He wore a white blouse beneath it, frilly white ankle socks, and glossy pale green Mary Janes as well. “It’s not as fancy and nice as my other frocks, but I’m still learning. Look!” From his matching purse he retrieved a small patch with the image of a needle and thread. “I passed Prissy Princess Simple Sewing!  I didn’t sew the patch on my sash yet because I wanted to show it to you first.  I knew you would be proud.” He smiled and curtsied again.

“Hi, Nana!” the twins both said.  They wore their soccer uniforms. They were off to another match.  They were part of a traveling team now and were the star players of course.

“Hello, girls!” Nana replied. “Are you taking good care of my little princess?”

“Yes, Nana!” they both replied.

The old woman smiled and nodded. “Good.”

The twin on the right swiped her Champion Girl ID card to open the gate.  The Champion Girls were considered level headed, smart, and responsible enough to wander freely. The gate was there to keep Prissy Princesses from becoming a DDID. 

The triplets hugged.  Shawna took his Nana’s hand and held Miss Priscilla in his other.  He could barely remember now what it was like not to have the doll as a constant companion. Shawna and his Nana walked off to the left, the twins walked off to the right.

Coddled and protected or not, the life of a Prissy Princess was not an easy one.  Prissy Princess Privileges come with Prissy Princess Regal Responsibilities.  Prissy Princess Bad Behavior must be strictly avoided, at risk of a spanking and time on the pink sandpaper stool or even demotion to a Prissy Princess Pottypants.  Prissy Princess Good Behavior is expected to be above and beyond the call of duty, not just a rote following of the rules in the Prissy Princess Guidebook.  Shawna no longer needed to carry the guidebook with him, though he did anyway because keeping it close was a Regal Responsibility. He had already memorized the entire book, cover to cover, earning him another patch for his Prissy Princess sash. 

He excelled and thrived in his new school in a way he never had in the past with a traditional curriculum.  The Prissy Princess Correctional Club was his entire world now, and the Prissy Princess Correctional Club Guidebook was his bible.  He was doing everything he could to be the star pupil his mother wanted him to be and his cruel sister was driving him to be.  Aside from his community service at the senior center and his weekly Sunday outings with Nana, a highlight of both of their weeks, he spent almost all of his time on the school grounds. 

He felt that he finally had something in life he never had as a boy.  He had a very clear and well defined role in his life. He knew exactly where he fit.  He had structure and discipline.  He was told exactly what he was supposed to be doing, down to the letter, and when he did it he was rewarded with praise and Prissy Princess Special Treats which left him in a happy ditzy nice vacant fog for the rest of the day.

When he went on his outings with Nana the world outside the school grounds honestly seemed strange and confusing to him.  It was odd for him to see boys and men, who the Prissy Princess Guidebook says he should simply think of as uncorrected Prissy Princesses, in roles that he now felt were better suited for Champion Girls.  He was told to show uncorrected Prissy Princesses absolute utmost respect and always refer to them as “Mr.” and never, ever as a “Little Miss” which was their true station.  He was told to never challenge the idea that they were superior to women and Champion Girls because they could become angry and violent if questioned on matters of this nature by a corrected Prissy Princess.  One day, his mother told him, there would be no more uncorrected Prissy Princesses. 

Similarly, it was odd for Shawna seeing girls acting like swishy and silly Prissy Princesses.  It made him feel dizzy like the whole world was upside down. Most of his dance and gymnastics and pageant lessons were done with private tutors at the school but occasionally he would do things like going to a ballet class with traditional girls to practice for a recital he would perform in with them.  The girls were told he was a very special boy and not to make fun of him. They were surprised when he would turn out to be the biggest girly-girl among them.  They would look at him and see it as odd that a boy would just love wearing a pink leotard and tutu, and he looked back at them and felt it odd a girl would. 

His days started very early, helping the kitchen staff prepare the communal meals in a crisp lacy white apron that matched his pink and white school jumper. Cooking was an essential part of Prissy Princess Home Economics, of course. He learned to stop feeling the incredible hunger pangs each day as he helped to prepare the large high protein meals for the Champion Girls featuring items like bacon or steak.  Instead, he thought about cute and loyal little piggies and cows and how much it hurt his tender Prissy Princess feelings that they had to be killed. Often thinking about it made him cry.  Eventually, he stopped even seeing meat as food. He was perfectly happy with his alternative breakfast, a small portion of scrambled tofu and a slice of avocado toast with lime zest and a small cup of mixed fruit on the side.  Every day he could feel himself becoming more and more Prissy Princess slim and waifish. 

[sissykimmy1]

Of course, as a Prissy Princess Little Miss he was too immature to help with every kitchen task. Some were simply too dangerous for the little dears.  Can you imagine a ditzy Little Miss slicing and chopping? Everyone can agree that absolutely nothing but trouble could come from a happy, ditzy, vacant, airheaded Little Miss with access to a knife.  The only mincing a Prissy Princess Little Miss should do is the kind he does with his feet. 

It was also his responsibility to help clean the school, and to help clean up after the meals.  At first these responsibilities proved too overwhelming for him.  The Champion Girls were taught to be unconcerned about leaving a mess because there were Prissy Princesses happy to help clean.  They had much more important things to concern themselves with.  But the reality of the situation is that there were thirty Champion Girls and only one Prissy Princess currently enrolled in their local school.  Karen and Diane convinced the other Champion Girls to keep things neater to make things easier and help coddle the Prissy Princess, until there were more Prissy Princesses enrolled to handle those Regal Responsibilities.

All in all, Little Miss Shawna was coming to appreciate his new life.  He was learning so many new things about how to be a good Prissy Princess and excelling in all his traditional girly-girl classes and extracurricular activities.  His worst subjects had always been math and science, where his sister’s achievements constantly outshined his own, and now he didn’t need to worry about those subjects at all. His new curriculum gave him many more opportunities to let his dreamy and imaginative side come out. He had no need at all to concern himself with competing with his sister because they had entirely different roles.

The Prissy Princess Minimal Math curriculum meant that all he had to know how to do was to add, subtract, multiply, divide, and keep a basic household budget.  Anything else a Prissy Princess might need in daily life, such as any measurement conversions required for following a recipe, could be looked up on reference pages in the back of the Prissy Princess math book or he could simply ask a Champion Girl for the answer. The title of the Prissy Princess Minimal Math book was, “Math Gives You A Headache: How To Avoid It.”

As the weeks and months continued to fly by, everyone agreed that Little Miss Shawna was becoming a perfect model of a Prissy Princess.  One day, though, they all realized that there was still something very major missing from his life. 

In his standard uniform of a fancy pink juvenile jumper dress and white tights and his Prissy Princess sash, Shawna stood in front of the class of Champion Girls in their simple uniform of plain blue pants, plain white shirts, and plain blue ties. Shawna had no idea what was about to occur, but quietly stood open and yielding to whatever might come as always.  His mother and sister and the twins stood behind him proudly.  His mother spoke, “This is a very special day for Little Miss Shawna everyone.  Shawna, do you know what today is?”

Shawna shook his head, a vacant smile on his face, still unaware of what was going on, “No, Mummy.”

“Well, Shawna, it’s now been a whole month since you’ve received a single spanking for Prissy Princess Bad Behavior. Can you believe it?”

Shawna’s mouth dropped open in shock, he lived in constant fear of a spanking and remembered each spanking and all his time on the pink sandpaper stool very clearly, but he didn’t realize it had been so long.  For the first two months he had received a spanking at least once every single day.  His sister always looked for any justification at all with a very keen eye. “No, Mummy.  What does that mean?”

“What does the Prissy Princess Guidebook say, Cupcake?”

He closed his eyes in concentration, flipping through the book in his mind, and then he gasped.  “One month without a spanking means...Prissy Princess Goody Two-Shoes Bronze Status!”

He smiled with delight as his mother pinned a bronze ribbon onto his Prissy Princess sash with an image of two ballet shoes on it. 

“The Prissy Princess Guidebook says,” he recited from memory, “After one month free of Prissy Princess Bad Behavior a moral and upright Prissy Princess is privileged to receive a special bronze ribbon commemorating his commitment to Prissy Princess Good Behavior at all times in recognition of his achievement as a Prissy Princess Goody Two-Shoes Bronze Status. Wow, do you
.”  He froze and seemed a bit choked up, “Wow, do you
”

He stopped reciting.  His smiling face crumpled into a pout.  And then a frown.  And then he was sobbing uncontrollably in front of the entire class.  The twins rushed to coddle him and the triplets hugged once again.

“What’s wrong, Shawny?” Karen asked.

“What’s wrong, Shawny?” Diane repeated.

He resumed reciting through his sobs, “Wow, do you think your Prissy Princess friends will be jealous?”  He continued to cry inconsolably.  “Miss Karen, Miss Diane.  You’ll always be my very best mates.  But I need Prissy Princess friends too.

“I’m so lonely!” he wailed. “I need Prissy Princesses to play dollies and hop scotch with me, to dance with in dance class, and to sing with me when we do our chores, and to color with.”  He wailed again, “I’ve never even gotten to play Cuddleball!  How can I be a Prissy Princess without even a single Cuddleball participation trophy? I love you both very much, but you can’t do those things with me.  You have important Champion Girl things to do.”

“It’s okay, Shawny, stop crying,” Diane said.

“We’ve got big news, Shawny,” Karen added.

His mother handed him a flyer printed on pink paper covered in glitter.  Shawna’s sobbing stopped and his eyes opened up with surprise and delight.  His mother told him, “Now that you’re officially a Prissy Princess Goody Two-Shoes, you qualify to attend. And believe me, Cupcake, I’m doing everything I can to find more permanent Prissy Princess classmates for you.  I promise you it won’t be too much longer. But remember, if you do Prissy Princess Bad Behavior and need a spanking you will lose that ribbon and no longer qualify.  Bronze status is just the first level, so be careful.”

The flyer announced a one week retreat for Prissy Princess All-Star pupils selected from the dozen or so schools that had been founded so far and that it would be held at the Champion Girl Promotion Club and Prissy Princess Correctional Club Headquarters in Clearwater, Florida. It wasn’t a permanent solution to his loneliness, but he would finally get to meet other Prissy Princesses like him.  And absolutely best of all, he would be privileged to participate in the first ever World Participation Cup of Cuddleball.