The Innocent

[Sandra B]

Chapter 24.  Christina.

Imelda and Emilia were ready on Saturday morning when Christopher announced himself with a nervous knock at the door.  Imelda opened it and asked him in.
“You can ring the bell, you know, Christopher.  It won’t give you a shock.”
“I know, but…”
“But you’re feeling a bit anxious?  You were rather hoping there’d be no reply, and you could go home again?”
“No, course not.”
“So you’re ready to be initiated into the Bunny Club?”
“What?”
“The Bunny Club.  That’s what we’ve decided to call it.  And you’re our next prospective Bunny.”
Christopher looked even more alarmed.  She smiled.  “It’s OK, don’t be nervous, come upstairs.  Emilia’s waiting.”
Christopher followed Imelda upstairs and into the bedroom.
“Hi, Christopher,” Emilia greeted him.  “Gosh, you look serious.  What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Good.  Go and have a shower, please.  The others won’t be here for a while.  The bathroom’s the next door along the passage.  You’ll find a dressing gown there too.  Leave your clothes in the basket and put that on when you’re finished.”

Ten minutes later Christopher reappeared, looking cautiously around the room. 
“Come and sit here, sweetie,” said Imelda, indicating a chair next to the bed.  “That’s right.  Now, please sit as still as you can.  We’re going to do your hair.  Don’t worry, you’re going to look nice!  Just relax!”
For fifteen minutes or so the girls worked on his hair, first brushing, then combing, and finally curling.  They had seated Christopher so that he was facing the wardrobe door mirror, and he could see their progress.  When he sat down his hair was still damp from the shower, and sticking up all over the place.  After a good brush and comb the girls were delighted to see it hung down over his collar.  It was still slightly damp when they embarked on the curling process.
“That’s good,” said Emilia, it’ll help the curls stay in.  Did you know you’ve got really lovely hair, Chris?  It looked quite dark blond when it was damp, but as it’s drying it’s turning golden.  Look at those pretty curls!”
The flattery was having its effect.  Chris was relaxing and starting to feel quite comfortable having all this attention lavished on him.
“What am I going to wear?” he asked.  “I don’t mind dresses, you know.  Paul’s outfir was nice, but I thought it was a bit plain.”
“Oh, really?” asked Imelda.  “Would you prefer something a bit more elaborate and maybe a bit more feminine?  A really pretty dress, maybe?  That would suit you, it’s true.  But Paul might be jealous.  That wouldn’t be very nice, would it?”
Christopher’s vanity was beginning to get the better of him.
“Maybe….  But you know, everyone should wear what’s best for them, don’t you think so, Mel?  I mean, Paul looks OK in quite simple clothes, doesn’t he?  His hair is quite dull… I mean, compared to mine.”  He tilted his head, admiring his curls in the mirror.  “I think I could wear something quite glamorous… do you?”
“Yes, Chris…maybe something in sky blue satin, with lace trimming?” suggested Emilia, “and perhaps white tights and silver shoes?”
“Yeah, maybe.  Do you have, like, a tiara or something?”
“Oh, actually darling, I think we do?  Don’t we, Mel?”
“Yes.  Let me have a look.”  She rummaged in the bottom drawer of her chest and produced a silver tiara glittering with white gems.  “Just the thing!”
“Can I try it on?” asked Christopher, eagerly.
“Course.  But not in that dressing gown.  That’ll completely spoil the effect.  Slip it off for a moment.”
“But I’m not wearing anything underneath!”
“Whoops!  No, of course you’re not.  Sorry.  Let me find you some panties to slip on.”  She winked at Emilia, and went back to the chest.  “Maybe some stockings and shoes as well.  We really bought these for Paul, but I don’t see why you shouldn’t have them.”  She came towards him with a handful of shiny things.
“Here, let me help you.” 
She knelt down in front of him and rolled up one stocking and pushed it over his right foot.  Then she did the same with the other over his left foot.  They were shiny yellow spandex each with a red satin bow at the top.
“Pull those up first.  That’s right.”
“They’re very long,” said Christopher.  They come right up to the tops of my thighs.”
“They’re supposed to Chris.  They’d go perfectly with a yellow satin dress, and the yellow will look so pretty with your blond hair.”  She smiled.  “You’re going to make Paul look rather dowdy, I’m afraid.”
Christopher smiled.  He was really getting into this dressing up now, and all he cared about was his own appearance.  Paul’s going to have some competition, he thought.
“OK, now the panties.  Pop your feet in.”
Imelda opened the panties and held them for him to step into.  He noticed that they matched his stockings, and also had a red bow on the waistband.  There may have been some sort of red design as well, but the way Imelda was holding them he couldn’t see.  She pulled them up to his knees.
“Got them?  Pull them up under your dressing gown.  Good boy!” 
Keeping his dressing gown tied, he pulled them right up and wriggled into them, and then pulled the stockings up as far as they would go, which was virtually all the way.
“Oh, you might as well have some shoes as well, darling,” said Emilia, tossing a pair of low-heeled gold court shoes over to Imelda.  Christopher held out one foot at a time for Imelda to slip them on.  They fitted snugly, but comfortably.
“Now…on with your tiara…”  She slid it firmly onto his head, the arms disappearing amongst the golden ringlets.
“Em?  What do you think?”
“Oh, you look beautiful, Chris.  Can I have a picture?”
“Course,” replied Christopher, flushing with pride.
Emilia got her camera ready.
“Better slip off that old dressing gown, Chris.  That’s right.  Now…pose…lovely!  And again.  Super!  And once again, please, hands on hips.  Perfect!”
“Now you can look at yourself in the mirror,” said Imelda.
Christopher stepped confidently up to the full-length mirror.  The tiara set off his hair perfectly, he thought.  And those stockings….  Then all at once he caught sight of his panties.  Across the front, below the bow, in big red letters, was the word “SISSY”!
“What?” he exclaimed.
“Just our little prank, Christopher.  You don’t mind, do you?”
“Why did you….”
“Just a little insurance policy, in case you decided to try to chicken out today,” smiled Emilia.  “Would you like to see your pictures?  Let me show you.”
Emilia scrolled through the photos she’d just taken.  Christopher stared at them, speechless and horrified.
“I think they’re sweet,” said Emilia.  “Those little panties… They’re so cute, don’t you think?  Perhaps a little small for you, but they’re so stretchy that hardly matters, does it?”
“What are you going to do with them?” he wailed.
“Nothing. Nothing at all, darling,” said Imelda, “unless, of course, you don’t do what you’re told."  Her tone assumed a faint tinge of menace.  "Then we’ll have them made into posters and post them up around your school.  Would that be nice?”
“No!  Please….”
“Then just be a good obedient little boy and you’ll have nothing to worry about, will you?" she smiled.  "Now, let’s find your real costume for today.  Don’t look sad!  You can wear all these things again soon, if you pass the initiation test.”

Poor Christopher had had a rude awakening.  He was told to take off all his finery, and Imelda tossed him a big puffy pull-up to put on.  His protestations were ignored.  He had to take off his dressing gown.  He was then given a pair of pink translucent plastic panties, nicely elasticated at the waist and the legs so they completely contained the pull-up.  Then his pink socks and baby trainers, and finally the Bunny Club top, which almost reached his belly button.
“There!  How nice is that?” asked Imelda.  “And as a treat, you can wear your new choker as well,” she said, padlocking it in place.
“And one last touch,” added Emilia.  She produced a roll of broad yellow ribbon, and proceeded to cut four lengths.  It was braided at the edges, and clearly quite strong and functional.
“What’s that for?” whined Christopher, suspiciously.
“Oh, just a bit of decoration.  Nothing to worry about.” Smiled Emilia.  The girls tied one length around each wrist and each ankle.  Christopher noticed they knotted them tightly before tying a bow.
“There.  Now we’re all ready.  We just have to wait for the others.”
“It’s not fair,” complained the little boy, his ringlets trembling with annoyance.  “No-one said I was going to be dressed like this!  I feel stupid!”
“But you look sweet, darling,” Imelda reassured him, “you should be grateful, all the trouble we’ve taken.  Everyone’s going to love you!”
“Everyone?”
“All your friends, I mean.  They should be here any minute.”
She had hardly spoken when there was a ring at the bell, and the three younger girls arrived.  Emilia let them in, and they charged upstairs to the bedroom and burst in excitedly.  When they saw Christopher, standing there helplessly, all red-faced and squirming with embarrassment, they whooped with delight.
“Oh, Chris!” shouted Tabitha, “You look so cute!  You look even better than Paul did!”
“Yes,” agreed Marcia, “I think it’s cos you looked a bit older and bigger than Paul, that now you look such a lovely stupid big baby.”
“Ooh, look at his plastic pants,” put in Rosalind, feeling the material.  “Feel how soft they are, almost like rubber. But the elastic is nice and tight, just as it should be.”  She pulled at one leg, and let it snap back against his thigh.
“Now, now, girls,” said Imelda, “please remember you’re talking about our new baby girl, Christina.  So it’s “she” and “her” now.”
“Oh, of course!” laughed Tabitha, “I’m sorry, Christina,” she smirked sarcastically, “how could I ever have mistaken you for a boy?”
Another ring at the bell announced the arrival of Paul.  His mother had taken him shopping the previous night, and now he was the proud possessor of some new clothes.  He had suspected Christopher would be even more thoroughly babified than he had been, so in the humane hope of ameliorating his friend’s discomfort, he had dressed himself in a rather juvenile outfit of pink sparkly top, yellow towelling shorts, and pink socks and trainers to match his. 
“Hi, Chris.  How’s it going?”
“Christina, please!” corrected Tabitha, maliciously.  Paul ignored her.
“Don’t worry.  It won’t be as bad as you think.”
“No.  It’ll be worse!” spat Tabitha, “We’ll make sure of that!”
Paul looked at Imelda, expecting her to admonish Tabitha.  But all she said was, “Well, Tabby, it will be what it will be.  But if she wants to pass the initiation, it would be best for Christina to accept her role and act as babyish as she can.  Any signs of rebellion will earn her a black mark and possible punishment.”
“Yeah.  Hear that, baby?” Tabitha grinned spitefully.  “Why don’t you get down on the floor and crawl, like a proper baby.  And where’s your pacifier?”
“Oh, good point, Tabby.  We’ve got quite a selection here."  She rummaged in the drawer.  "This one we'll save for later, I think."  She produced a large pink pacifier on a pink leather strap.  "And we'll need this too."  She reached in again and pulled out what looked like a coil of narrow rubber tubing. She stowed both away in her bag.  Finally, she found one she deemed suitable for present purposes.  “Here, this one will do for now.  Pop it in, please.”
Obediently, Christopher accepted the dummy which Imelda presented to his lips.  He was feeling very anxious, and pulling on the rubber bulb seemed somehow calming.
“Good.  Now, we’re going to the chemist’s down the road.  Don’t worry, Christina,” she added, registering Christopher’s alarmed expression, "the Gang of Four are going to shield you all the way.”

Christopher was ushered out of the front door.  The children formed up around him to shield him from prying eyes, and they set off down the street, Imelda and Emilia bringing up the rear.  Christopher was terrified by being taken outside, but his terror was mitigated somewhat by the apparent concern for his privacy.  Probably, he thought, he was being taken to the chemist to buy accessories.  Then they would come back to the house.  It was reassuring they were not intending to make an exhibition of him, or to humiliate him in public.  He put on a brave face, despite Tabitha’s mischievous trick of side-stepping now and then to give some passer-by a glimpse of her charge.
“Tabby?  Stay in place, please,” called Emilia.
At last they arrived at the shop, and went straight inside. 
“Hi Patricia.  How are you today?”
“I’m well.  How are you, Mel?”
“Fine thanks.  We’re all ready, as you can see.”
“Oh, what a pretty baby!  Very big for her age.  Hello, Christina!  My name’s Pat.”  She bent down and gave Christopher a sloppy kiss on the cheek.  “Are you going to help us today?”
Christopher nodded, uncertainly.
“Good girl!  Now, let’s get you ready.” 
It was time.  At first, the three younger girls were all agog with anticipation.  What was going to happen to Christina?  Nothing too bad, they began to suspect.  For Pat seemed so nice, and she was so attentive to and gentle with the baby. That was a shame.  After lots of petting, she eventually sat him down on a chair by the counter and sighed sentimentally.
“She's so sweet.  Would you like a drink of water darling. Or a sweetie?”  she cooed.  Christopher nodded and smiled.  This didn’t seem too bad so far.
Tabitha was becoming impatient.  “Boring,” she muttered under her breath, “hurry up and finish coddling him, so we can take him home and have some fun.”
But Christina was not going home, not for several hours.

[Sandra B]

Chapter 25.  The Demonstration.

While Christopher was beginning to relax, Paul was filled with trepidation.  He knew how this went.  Lull the subject into a sense of security, wait till his guard was down, then spring the surprise.  He knew Emilia and Imelda had some sort of evil plan, but as yet he didn’t know what it was.  It was impossible for him to warn his friend, so he decided to keep a low profile.  The assistants at the counter greeted him warmly.
“Pauline!  You’ve grown up since last week.  But we’re glad you’ve brought a new baby for us to pet!”
“Hi.  He’s my friend.  I didn’t bring him.  I hope they look after him.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll do that,” one of them said, ironically.
After Christopher had had a drink and a sweet, Patricia offered to show him around the baby aisle.  The assistants were looking on from behind the counter, giggling between themselves.  Emilia heard one of them whisper, “She’s bigger than Pauline, but just as cute!”  There were a couple of customers, but they seemed to be ignoring him, so for a while he forgot himself and allowed her to point out the various accessories.  At last they came to a section marked “Monitors and Alarms”.
“Now these are very interesting, dear,” said Patricia.  We have the usual baby monitors here, so you can hear or even see your baby sleeping.  They’re very popular.  But do you know what this is?”  She pointed to a box with a picture of a sleeping baby on the front, next to some sort of control box.  Christopher looked at it, puzzled.  Along the top of the box was the word “URALERT” in big letters.  He shook his head.
“I’ll show you.”  She took the box off the shelf, went over to the counter, and opened it.  By now the girls were taking an interest.  There was a pink plastic box with a digital clock, a switch, a dial, and some buttons, about as big as a small radio.  And there were three tiny pink plastic tablets, each no bigger than a postage stamp.
“Now these little things are the sensors, Christina.  See those little silver beads on them?  If they get even slightly damp, or if there’s moisture nearby, they send a signal to the monitor, and an alarm rings.  There’s different types depending on where you want to put them.  This one attaches to fabric, this one can just be loose.  Shall I demonstrate?”
“Yes please.”
Patricia put batteries into the monitor and turned it on.  A little red light appeared.  She adjusted the clock until it showed the correct time.  Then she selected the button marked “alarm”. 
“Would one of you girls like to help?”
“Me!” cried Marcia.
“All right.  What’s your name again?  Ah, yes, Marcia.  OK.  Would you take this sensor over to the other side of the shop?  That’s fine.  Are we ready?  Now, Marcia, if you would just moisten your lips….not too much…yes, and now just touch the sensor on them….”
Immediately the monitor started buzzing repeatedly, the red light flashed, and the clock lit up.
“Wow, that so cool,” said Rosalind.
Emilia and Imelda stood slightly apart, watching proceedings with smug grins on their faces.  Clearly it was no surprise to them.
“Well, that’s just the basic function,” said Patricia.  "Instead of the alarm, it can be on silent, or you can record a message.  Would you like to try that?"
“Yes!  Let me!” cried Tabitha.
“All right.  So what are you going to say?”
“Er…”
“Well remember, baby is wetting herself.  So perhaps she should call for her mummy.”
“OK.  How do I record?”
“I’ll show you.  If everyone else could stay quiet for a moment?  Thank you.  So when you’re ready, just push the “record” button, and speak your message, nice and clear please.  If you make a mistake, you can always erase it and do it again.”
But Tabitha did not make a mistake.  She pressed “record”, and cried in a loud, high-pitched voice, “Mummy, mummy!  Come quick!  I’m wetting my nappy so much!”
“Oh, that was excellent!” said Patricia.  “Let’s play it back.”  She pushed the playback button and immediately Tabitha's voice was heard: “Mummy, mummy!  Come quick!  I’m wetting my nappy so much!  Mummy, mummy!  Come quick!  I’m wetting my nappy so much!  Mummy, mummy!  Come quick!  I’m wetting my nappy so much!”
Patricia pushed the “off” button.  “It will continue like that until someone comes and turns it off.”
“That is so great!” said Marcia, who had returned from the other side of the shop.  “Will Tabby’s voice be on that one now?  If so, whoever buys it is going to get a big surprise!”
“Well I’m not sure I can sell it now.  I think it’ll have to be a demonstration model.  Now, Christina.  Would you like to come outside so I can show you our window display?”
Christopher allowed himself to be led outside, followed by all the girls.  Paul feared the worst, and stayed inside, looking uninterestedly at the pacifiers and bottles.  The shop door was on the corner of the high street and a side street.  There were big windows at the front, to the right of the door, and at the side, to the left.  Christopher was relieved that the window with the baby stuff was in the side street, where there were a lot less passers-by.  The side street was pedestrianised, so there was no roadway, just a few bollards.  Before, the A-board had been positioned in the middle of this window.  But it had been taken away.  Only the loop of chain remained.  Patricia led him along the window pointing out the huge range of accessories.  Despite the fact the street was fairly quiet, he was naturally feeling a little self-conscious, and tried to hide his plastic pants with his hands.  Imelda noticed.
“Christina!  Keep your hands by your sides, please!”
“Sorry, Mel.”
“She’s been doing that all the morning,” said Emilia.  “I think we need to do something about it.”
“You’re right, Em.  Do you have any more ribbon on you?”
“Sure.  Here’s a piece.”  She handed a short length of yellow ribbon to Imelda.
“Right.  Before we go any further, Christina, please come here.  Now turn around.”
She pulled Christopher’s hands behind his back, and threaded the ribbon through those already around his wrists, and tied it securely off.
“There.  Now behave, please.”
“But I wasn’t…”
“No buts!  Or I’ll have to restrain you some more.”
“But, Mel!  I wasn’t doing…”
“Did you hear me?”
“But it’s not fair!” 
“Right.  That’s it!  Em, do you have…thank you.”
“Now stand right here, against the window.  Don’t move!”
“What did I do?” wailed the unfortunate boy.
But Imelda was down on one knee at Christopher’s feet.  Her frown had quickly been replaced by a mischievous smile.  Deftly she threaded the ribbon through the chain loop and then through each ankle ribbon.  She tightened it, drawing Christopher’s ankles together, and tied it off.  She stood up.
“There.  That’s better.”
“What?  Why?” Christopher looked down in dismay.  He realised he was standing outside the shop window, facing the street, quite unable to move.  Already a few passers-by had stopped to stare at him.
“No!  Let me go!”
“Certainly not, darling.  That’s where you’re staying, for a while,” she smiled.
“You…you…BITCH!”
The younger girls gasped with horror, and looked at Imelda to see how she would react.  But she only smiled a big smile of satisfaction.
“If you shout like that, you’re only going to attract attention.  Now, Patricia and I have work to do.”
And with that, she followed Patricia and Emilia back into the shop, leaving Christopher to be admired by the girls.
“You’re in for it now, Christina,” said Tabitha, spitefully.  “I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes today.”
“Why are you blushing, Christina?” asked Rosalind, innocently.  “You look so nice in your baby clothes.  Now everyone will see how pretty you are.”
“Yes,” said Marcia, “so cute, with your ringlets, and your little plastic pants, and with your belly button showing.  You’re good publicity for the Bunny Club.”
“And not only for the Bunny Club,” said Emilia, returning.  “Today, Christina, you’re going to help Patricia in her advertising campaign.”
Patricia and Imelda re-emerged carrying a little table, the baby alarm, and a couple of big rolls of paper.  While Imelda busied herself pasting the posters – for that is what the rolls turned out to be – to the shop windows, one each side of where Christopher was secured, Patricia was arranging the table and alarm monitor.  When Imelda had finished, Christopher craned forward, but he couldn’t quite read the posters.
“What do they say?” he wailed. 
Obligingly, Marcia went and took pictures of each poster on her phone, and then showed them to him.  As he read them his face fell.   The poster to his right read: “Now in Stock!  The new URALERT alarms.  No more continual checking of your baby’s nappy.  Using remote sensors, URALERT alarms will alert you as soon as baby wets.  REAL TIME DEMONSTRATION TODAY”
That to his left, “TODAY!  Baby CHRISTINA will demonstrate the amazing URALERT alarm.  Can you guess when she will wet her nappy?  If you think you can, buy a raffle ticket inside - 50p each.  The winner gets a ÂŁ50 VOUCHER to spend anywhere in the shop, with the option of changing Christina into the bargain!”
A small crowd was already gathering.  Patricia had set up the monitor.
“As it’s outside, I’ve set it to full volume,” Christopher heard her say.  And when it goes off the clock will stop.  So the person with the ticket that’s nearest that time will win.”
“What about changing her?”
“I’ve got a jumbo-sized changing mat all ready in the back room, and all the changing stuff.  So if they want to take up the offer, we can take her straight in.”
“Leave her hands tied, though.”
“Course.”
“No…please, Imelda,” whined Christopher, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude…  Please let me go!”
“What, after all our hard work?  Don’t be silly.  Now, it’s time to start the demonstration.  I think you must have the honour, Patricia.”
“Thank you, Imelda.”  She addressed the small but growing crowd, which included several mothers with their babies.  “Ladies, this is the easiest wetness monitor on the market.  This” – she held up one of the tiny pink sensors – “this is the sensor, which can simply be slipped into the baby’s nappy or pants, like so.”  She pulled open the top of Christopher’s plastic pants and dropped it in.  It disappeared down into the crotch.
“How clever is that?” said one of the women to her friend.  I’m going to get one of these.  And a raffle ticket,” she added, with a laugh.
“Christina doesn’t look very happy about it,” grinned her friend.  And then to Christopher,
“Cheer up, baby!  Now you can wet yourself whenever you feel like it, and get changed straight away!”
Poor Christopher.  He squirmed with embarrassment, and started to snivel quietly.  A single tear trickled down his cheek.  Inside the shop, Paul had listened to proceedings with dismay.  “Poor Chris,” he said to himself, “this is even worse than my initiation.  I should tell him to wet himself quickly and get it over.”   
But at that moment Imelda came back inside.
“Paul?  In case you were thinking about it, I don’t want you consoling him.  Understood?  You’ll interfere with the demonstration.  So please stay inside or go back to the house.  It may be a long day."

[Sandra B]

Chapter 26.  Relief.

Outside, the crowd was beginning to swell, ladies laughing and giggling as they read the posters.  Patricia was concerned they may be getting too close to Christopher – there had been some cautious attempts to touch his plastic pants – so, using the bollards and the walls of the shop, she taped off the area immediately around him.  He looked so sad, poor thing, she thought.  She approached him, stroked his cheek, and tried to reassure him.
“Darling, are you all right?  I know it’s not easy, but you’re being such a dear helping me with my promotion.  I’ll find you a special treat after it’s all over.”
“Go away!  Or let me free!”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Christina.  I’m sorry you don’t like your baby clothes.”
“I don’t mind the clothes.  But I don’t want to be an exhibition for all these sniggering women!  Let me go and I’ll wear baby stuff all the time, if you want.  Or anything you want!”
“I’m sorry.  In any case, Mel told me this is all about getting into the Bunny Club.  Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s true,” agreed Christopher.  “I do really want to be with my friend Paul.  But I didn’t realise what would be involved.  I hope no-one I know sees me.”
“Well, once you’ve demonstrated the alarm, you’ll be free, won’t you?”
“No!  I’m not doing that!  No way!  That would be the most…the most humiliating thing…  I can hold out until five o’clock if necessary, when you shut the shop.  Then you’ll have to let me go!”
“I don’t think you’ll be able to hold out that long, dear,” said Patricia, sympathetically.  “Best let it out sooner rather than later.  The longer you leave it the worse it’ll be for you.”
“No!” Go away!  I knew something like this was being planned.  So I’ve not drunk anything, except that sip of water you gave me, all the morning, and I’m not drinking anything now!  These idiots are all going to be disappointed, and you’re going to look pretty silly when your stupid alarm doesn’t go off!”

Patricia returned inside and reported to Imelda.
“Oh, dear. What a naughty little baby.  Fortunately, it’s past her feed time, so she can have something to drink right now.  I’ll get some milk and water ready.”
“She’s going to refuse it, Mel.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, Pat.  But perhaps you should warn the audience that we don’t expect any developments until at least after lunch.  Otherwise they’ll start getting impatient.”
Accordingly, Patricia made the announcement, which resulted in most of the crowd that had gathered drifting away, leaving only the girls and a handful of women who had decided that the pavement outside the chemist was as good a place as any to stand around in pairs idly chatting.  During these conversations – or dual monologues as they more often were – the party not engaged in speaking might occupy her time taking photos of the captive and sending them to her acquaintances.  Christopher glared at them defiantly, much to their amusement.  He had resolved that he was going to pass this initiation test whatever it took, so that he could join his friend in the Bunny Club.  In fact, had he been untied at that moment, he would still have remained at his post until closing time!  Though no-one realised it, the physical bonds which held him were quite superfluous.

When Patricia came back inside, Mel asked he if she had a water bottle with a nozzle.  That was easily produced, as she sold a range of such bottles for general use. 
“How are you going to feed him?” she asked, as Imelda filled the bottle with a milk and water mixture.
“I came prepared, Pat,” replied Imelda.  “See this pacifier?”
“Ooh.  I’ve never seen one on a strap before.”
“Well, yes, that’s to make sure it stays in his mouth.  But here’s the clever bit.  Let me show you.”
The pacifier looked quite normal.  It had a plastic boss in the centre, to which the ring was attached.  But Imelda folded down the ring, and then prized open the top of the boss, which was on a hinge, to reveal an internal nozzle.
“See that?  It’s connected to the internal bulb by way of a valve, and the bulb has a little hole at the end.  So if we pump liquid into here, it fills the bulb, and eventually squirts into the mouth, forcing the wearer to swallow.  Clever, or what?”
“I’ve never seen anything like that before!”
“No.  It’s made for recalcitrant babies just like Christina.  Shall we test it out?”
“Ooh, yes, Mel!  Let’s!”  Patricia hadn’t had so much fun for years.

They went outside.  Chris was frowning darkly.
“This isn’t gonna work, Mel.  You know that?  I…”  Noticing the bottle, he broke off.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see, sweetie.  Come here.”
Before he could protest, Imelda had the big pacifier in his mouth and was buckling the strap behind his head.  He twisted about in an effort to resist, but it was useless.  She stood back and admired her handiwork. 
“There.  Doesn’t that feel better?”
“Mmmf,” was all that Christopher could reply.  A ripple of appreciative laughter ran around the much-reduced audience.  Tabitha had an expression of malicious delight on her face.
“Yes!  That’ll keep him quiet!”
“Well, it’ll do a bit more than keep him quiet, Tabby,” said Imelda.  “Would you like to come and help?”
Tabitha needed no further invitation.  She slipped under the barrier and ran over.
“Here, darling, hold the bottle for me if you would.  Thank you.”
Imelda flicked open the cap on the pacifier and connected the rubber tube to the nozzle.  Christopher shook his head from side to side ineffectually.  While Tabby held the bottle, she attached the other end of the tube firmly to its nozzle.
“OK, we’re ready to go.  Would you like to feed him, dear?  All you have to do is to hold the bottle up and squeeze.  That’s right.  Not too hard – give him time to swallow.  Perfect!”
Tabitha held the bottle up high, and gently pumped the watery milk into Christopher’s mouth.  His eyes grew big and sorrowful as he gulped it down.  Imelda called over Marcia and Rosalind and they each had a go as well.
“This is so cool!” exclaimed Rosalind.  “Look, he’s drunk nearly the whole bottle.  How much was in here, Mel?”
“Oh, a litre, I think.  You’re doing a great job, girls.  There, all gone!  Gosh, baby, you must have been thirsty!” she smiled, removing the tube and snapping the pacifier cap shut.  “I think that should do it, don’t you?  Here, girls.  Here’s one pound fifty.  Go get yourselves a ticket each.”
“Thanks, Mel,” said Marcia, as they scurried off towards the shop door.  “I think about two…” Imelda heard her say, before they disappeared inside.

Of course, what Christopher should have done was to give in to his physical urge whilst there was a depleted audience.  But he resisted, which meant that by the time it was becoming a problem for him, the crowd had grown once again and there was a constant expectant chatter from the onlookers.  Imelda had left the strap-on pacifier in place, to muffle any protests, which made him an even greater object of mirth.  He was resigning himself to the inevitable, when he saw something which froze him in terror.  Approaching on the other side of the high street he saw his two friends from the park, Johnny and Baz.  “No.  Please, no!” he prayed, silently.  But they had noticed the crowd and were coming over to see what the fuss was about.  They pushed themselves to the front.  He closed his eyes.
“Baz!  Look!  Look, mate!  Is that….?”
“It is!  It’s Chris!  What the…?”
“Look! See?  He’s “Christina”!  He doing a nappy demo!  I don’t believe it!”
“Oi, Chris!  Sweet!  Smile, mate.  Go on!”
Christopher opened his eyes.  They were both filming.  It was the last straw.  It couldn’t get any worse.  In despair, he let go.  Such relief, as he felt the flood of warmth filling his nappy.  There was a moment’s pause, and then the monitor responded.
“Mummy, mummy!  Come quick!  I’m wetting my nappy so much!”  “Mummy, mummy!  Come quick!  I’m wetting my nappy so much!”  Over and over again.  The crowd cheered and applauded.  His friends were open-mouthed with undisguised delight.  A woman somewhere to his left jumped in the air and cried “Yes!”  She must have predicted the time to the minute.  Emilia and Imelda stood to his left also, clapping politely and smiling.  They made no attempt to turn off the alarm, or to release him.  He could feel his pull-up, soggy and heavy, dragging down on his plastic pants, and a few little trickles running down his leg.  Patricia was delighted.
“Thank you, Mel, Em.  I couldn’t have wished for anything better than that!”

It seemed ages to Christopher, though it was in fact only a few minutes after, that the ribbons were untied, his pacifier was unbuckled, and he was led back into the shop.  His friends were still there, shouting pleasantries, but he ignored them, attempting to preserve such dignity as was left to him. 
“You cracked it, Christina,” Emilia whispered to him, “we’re proud of you.  You’re a full member now.”
What good was that, he thought, now I’m going to be crucified at school?  He was led behind the counter into a back room, and laid on a jumbo-sized changing mat which had been placed on a bed base by one wall.  It had been quite an ordeal.  He turned on his side and fell asleep almost at once.

[krystalasbaby2017]

Love the forced feeding the strapped in paci and the humiliation.

[dolly bo peep]

Sandra B,

I catching up on your last few chapters and enjoy your story.

Just before I started reading, I had changed into a clean, dry diaper to start my morning. After reading the stimulating chapters on Christina's humiliation, it's not a dry morning for me anymore.

[sissykimmy1]

Love everything about this story, but the humiliating evil genius of the voice recorded alarm is particularly great. :)

The whole scene of the initiation was well done.  There was a lot of detail you had to include to make it all work. 

[Sandra B]

Chapter 27.  The Mob.

The winner of the raffle was a young woman who herself had a one-year-old, so she knew the value of peace and quiet.  Consequently, she politely declined the invitation to change Christopher.
“Let him sleep a bit, the poor lamb.  In any case, I do so much nappy changing it would hardly be a novelty for me."
So Christopher was allowed to sleep for an hour or so, and when he showed signs of waking, Patricia took him to the shower room so he could wash.  He emerged wrapped in a big towel, his hair dripping. 
“What am I going to wear?” he asked Imelda.
“Em’s gone back to the house to fetch your clothes.  She won’t be a minute.”
When Emilia returned, she was carrying two bags.  Christopher was sitting on the bed, still wrapped in the towel.
“Here, Chris.  You can have either outfit.”
Christopher opened the first bag.  It contained his jeans, shirt and trainers.  Then he opened the second.  His eyes widened.  A blue gingham summer dress, white panties, white socks, and pale blue sandals.  He looked from one to the other.
“Well?  Which is it to be?”
He smiled, and tossed his old clothes into the corner. 
“We’ll leave you to get dressed then,” said Emilia.  “Welcome to the Club!”

When Christopher emerged from the back of the shop, he got a little round of applause.  Imelda and Emilia exchanged satisfied glances.  He looked so happy and comfortable in his simple new outfit.  Paul felt happy he was no longer the only boy, and he went over and gave his friend a hug.  Even Tabitha seemed somewhat mollified now that she realised he was serious in his commitment.
“Why don’t you guys walk back to the house,” said Imelda.  “We just need to have a chat with Patricia, and we’ll follow you.”
So the five friends set off down the street towards Imelda’s house.  As it was Christopher’s first time outside as a girl, Paul took one hand and Rosalind the other, to reassure him.  However, it wasn’t destined to be an uneventful journey.  After Christopher had disappeared into the shop, Johnny and Baz had decided that he would have to come out sometime before five, so they had lain in wait or him.  So as not to appear conspicuous, they had pretended they were waiting for a bus.  Now, as the children approached, they jumped out from behind the side of the shelter. 
“What?” exclaimed Johnny.  “Baz, look at him now.  Now he’s dressed up as a girl!”  They could hardly believe their luck.  Not only was their prey now dressed as a girl, but he was apparently hand in hand with two other girls.
“And isn’t that the girl from the park?  Remember?” returned Baz.  “Yeah.  Anyway, let’s have a look at Chris’s knickers, shall we?”
They advanced on the hapless Christopher, who started to back away.  But Marcia stood in front of him protectively.
“Leave him alone, you bullies!  Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“What’s better than seeing what sort of knickers he’s got on?” asked Johnny, with a coarse laugh.
“He’s dressed as a girl because he’s joined our club,” cried Rosalind in distress, “leave him alone!”
“Club?  What club?” asked Johnny, with a sneer.
“The Bunny Club.”
“The what?” asked Baz, unable to believe his ears.
“The Bunny Club,” said Marcia, angrily, “and we stick together, so you’d better be careful.”
“Oh, yeah, we’re terrified,” said Johnny.  “Sounds like a really dangerous crew, don't it, Baz?  And what do you do in the Bunny Club when someone bothers you?  Set a fluffy little rabbit on them?”  And they were both convulsed with laughter.
Tabitha, who had been looking on without saying a word, decided it was time to take action.  She had been jealous of Christopher before, but now he was one of them, and she felt it was her duty to protect him.
“No,” she said quietly, taking a step towards Johnny.  “No, idiot.  We give them a rabbit punch.”  And without warning, she chopped Johnny in the throat with the side of her hand as hard as she could.  Poor Johnny dropped where he stood, clutching his throat and gasping for breath.  Tabitha turned towards Baz, who took one look at his friend and turned tail and ran. 
“Let’s go, guys,” said Tabitha.  And they resumed their journey.
“Wow!  Th-thanks, Tabby,” said Christopher.  “That was awesome.”  He looked back at the prone figure on the pavement.  “I hope he’s going to be all right.”
“He’ll be fine in a minute,” replied Tabby.  “No-one messes with us.”
The others looked at each other.  They were thinking how useful it was to have someone as tough as Tabitha in their club.  They almost felt like they were gangsters now.  “No.  No-one messes with us,” repeated Marcia, under her breath.

When she answered the door, Mrs Vincent was surprised two find two new girls rather than the one she had expected entering the house.
“Hello.  I don’t think I know you, dear,” she said.  “I’m Mrs Vincent, Imelda’s mum.”
“Hi,” replied Christopher, “nice to meet you.  I’m Chris…tina.”  He remembered his new identity just in time.  “Mel and Em will be back shortly.”
“Okay, guys.  If you’d like to go upstairs and play for a bit, I’ll start getting tea ready.  If you’re all hungry…?”
They assured her they were, very, then stampeded upstairs.  Mrs Vincent returned to the kitchen.
“Well I never…  It must be contagious…”

The children draped themselves around Imelda’s bedroom.  Christopher was looking worried.
“What’s up, Chris?” asked Paul.
“I’m not looking forward to going back to school.  Those two will have it in for me.  And they were filming me this afternoon.”
“I know.  I saw them.  But couldn’t you switch to my school?  It’s just a bus ride.”
“I’d love to.  It would be fun.  And it’s a lot less rough than mine.”
“And you could wear girls’ stuff if you wanted to, like me.”
“Yeah.  It’d be great.  But I don’t think I can.  I don’t know what my parents would say, and in any case, it takes ages to get a transfer.  You have to apply an’ everything.”
“Let me talk to my mum,” said Paul, thoughtfully.  “She knows the head, and she might be able to pull a few strings.  And ask your parents what they think.”
“I will.”
“What are they like?”
“They’re cool.  They’ve always been good to me.  I feel sorry for Johnny and Baz, in a way.  I think they’re both a bit neglected.  They’re not really bad.  Maybe just unhappy.”
Tabitha was looking at Chris intently.  All her animosity had evaporated.  She was beginning to like him.
“Pauline,” she said, “why don’t you ring your mum and ask her if she’d talk to Miss Williams about Christina tomorrow?  And maybe ask her if she’d be willing to meet Christina’s parents for a chat.  She could reassure them about his dressing as a girl.”
“Okay.  I will.  I’ll ring her now.”
“And Christina, why don’t you tell your parents you want to have a meeting with them?  And see if they’d be prepared to meet Pauline’s mum?”
“Yeah, I suppose…”
“You need to try sort it now.  Otherwise things could get bad…  I believe in taking action, myself.”
“Yes, we noticed,” laughed Rosalind.

So Christopher was persuaded, and the upshot was that Mrs Adams and his parents arranged to get together Sunday evening, with both the boys, after Paul’s mum had spoken to Miss Williams.  Christopher didn’t tell his parents what it was all about, and neither would Mrs Adams when she spoke to them to make the arrangements, other than to say it was something very positive, and not to worry.