A Scary Story

[Sissy Little Girl]

Sandra B, Those were 2 fantastic chapters.  Margaret got involved and the boys are in for it now.  The rug and baby items make the boys pictures priceless.  Imagine a boy laying naked on a rug like a baby would.  That is quite a picture.  As I read, I was envisioning the whole scene happening. 

[babycakes]

Margaret says, “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t be so….  You know, I don’t bear them any malice."  A favorite phrase no matter the exact wording and used often in this genre.  Right up there with "for your own good." Definitely a blame-the-victim mentality.  Kind of like, "With all due respect..." when the speaker really intends no respect whatsoever.  Humiliation is vicious.  Physical scars heal but the emotional scars from the girls' treatment will last with the boys forever.

Also love the blackmail trope.  If the boys were more mature and willing to take their punishment none of this would be happening.  Succ-umbing to the blackmail makes them complicit in their humiliation and embarrassment.   No parental punishment could be as bad as the power the boys have given the girls since a parental punishment would be finite, blackmail lasts forever.  A very common theme but without it this genre would be bereft of many great stories.

As always, love your writing.  Thank you.

[Sandra B]

And thank you for your usual insightful comments, babycakes.  I hope the three girls will reflect and be less exploitative after this, even if some readers may wish the opposite.

[Sandra B]

4.
The boys were very subdued that evening.  We began to feel a bit sorry for them.  They had learned their lesson.  They told Margaret they would repay the money at the end of the month, and never steal from their mothers again.
“Or from anyone,” said Margaret.  “I’m glad you seem to have seen sense.  You can tell your mums you found a fiver on the floor.  Something like that.  When you’ve returned them, I’ll return your confessions.  And your dvd, though I shouldn’t.  But I certainly don’t want it.”
“Thanks, Margaret,” they chorused, suddenly brightening up.
Alice and I looked at each other, shocked.  It wasn’t fair!  They were getting off too lightly.  It looked like we’d had our fun, and now things would just be back to how they were before. 
Alice’s face fell.  “That’s rubbish,” she whispered.  “They’re going to be worse than ever now.”
“Yeah,” I said, “smug, too.  And they’ll want to get their own back!”
“But…but what about the photos?” added Douglas.  “I mean, will you delete them, or…”
“Oh, eventually.  But I’m going to hang onto them for the time being.  So you need to behave yourselves.  And of course, you will have to honour your pact with the girls till at least the end of the month.  Or longer, if I’m not satisfied with your conduct.”
“What?” cried Donald.  “But we’ve agreed to pay back the money an’ everything…”
Now we were smiling again.
“Did you think you could get away with it that easily?  Think yourselves lucky the girls and I didn’t tell your parents.  And we won’t.  Ever.  But the photos…  I think they’ll be just as good an incentive for you to be a bit more decent and respectful.  Don’t you?”
All their elation had evaporated.  They didn’t know what to say.  They looked from Margaret to us.  Alice folded her arms.
“Don’t look so miserable.  If you’re nice to us, we’ll be nice…well, maybe not nice…but we’ll be fair to you.”
“Will you make us be…you know…” asked Douglas, nervously.
“I don’t think so,” I said.  “Not unless you want…”
“No.  No, we don’t!”
“Well, then, we can be friends.  We can all play together for a change.  We’ll let you play mummies and daddies with us and our dolls, and you can let us play in the cellar whenever we want.  Deal?”
Donald looked angry, and as though he was about to say something, but Douglas gave him a nudge with his elbow.
“Yes.  Course.  That would be fun.”
“And,” said Alice, “we can help each other with our Halloween costumes, can’t we?”
“Okay…” said Donald, suspiciously.
“Mummy’s agreed to contribute towards the cost,” said Margaret, “and I will too, if you guys can find something nice.”
“And my mum will help,” I added.
“Let’s go and look at ideas now,” said Alice, excited.  “There’s only two weeks to go.”

We gathered around the computer.
“I heard that last year quite a few boys from your school dressed up as girls for Halloween,” said Alice, innocently.
“No,” said Donald, shortly.
“Yes, Don, they did,” corrected Douglas, naĂŻvely.  “Don’t you remember?  It was quite a thing.  It was when there was all that stuff in the news about boys who wanted to dress as girls.  St. Mark’s even gave a special prize for the best one, on top of the usual prizes!”
“You sound very enthusiastic,” returned Donald, sourly.  “Maybe you’d like to dress up as a girl yourself.”
Douglas blushed.  “N-no, course not,” he stammered.  “I just meant…some boys would…”
“You’d make a lovely girl,” said Alice.  “You have such delicate features.  Suppose you did….  What sort of thing would you like to wear?  I mean, a dress?   A skirt and top?  Look, here’s a very pretty dress….do you like that?”
Poor Douglas didn’t know what to say.  I had to cover my mouth and pretend not to laugh.  It appeared Alice had hit a sensitive spot.  He was pretending not to be interested, but glancing sideways at the screen as she scrolled through a whole spectrum of pretty dresses. 
“What colour do you think would suit you?  I think maybe a blue?  A pale blue?  What do you think, Liz?”
“I like mauve.  Once Douglas wore a mauve shirt, and he looked so handsome.”
“Mauve…  Let’s see.  Not much here…  All yellows and reds and greens…  Let’s look at the dancewear.  Oh, yes, that’s better.  Hmm…  Oh, Liz!  Look at this.  This is so sweet.  I can just see you in that, Douglas.”
Douglas was looking nervously at the screen.
“I…I…don’t know…  I don’t think it’s…”
“Well, if you want my opinion...” began Donald.
“We don’t,” said Alice.  “Unless you’d like to wear it?”
That shut him up.
“It’s perfect.  Don’t you agree, Liz?”
“Absolutely.  You could easily win first prize.  No-one will think to wear a dance outfit.  They’ll all be in dresses, I bet.  You’d really stand out.”
“Would I…?”
“Course," said Alice.  “Let's find your size…  Yes, I think if we order the girl’s age thirteen, that should be about right.  And we need tights to go with it…  And what about shoes, and some accessories..?”
Donald put his head in his hands.  Douglas sat there, wide-eyed but not actually raising any objections.  I watched him out of the corner of my eye.  He was clearly not totally averse to the idea.  Really, I loved him a lot.  He was so sweet underneath the bravado.
“Margaret?” called Alice.  “We’ve found a great costume for Douglas.  Could be borrow your card?”

Having disposed of Douglas’s costume, we turned our attention to Donald. 
“What’s your best colour, Donald?” I asked.
“I don’t have a “best colour”.  And I’m not wearing any girl’s stuff.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just not.  I’m not a sissy.”
“Why do you think it makes you a sissy?”
“Yeah, why?” echoed Alice.  “Unless your afraid you are one.”
“Shut up!  I’m not dressing up as a girl.  That’s an end of it!”
“Why are you so sensitive about it?” I persisted.  “Loads of boys dress up as females at Halloween.”
“Well I don’t!  I’ll wear anything, but not girls’ clothes.”
“Anything?”
“Yes!  I said so, didn’t I?”
“So the girls can choose your costume, as long as it’s not girly stuff,” said Margaret, “is that right?”
“Yes!  Yes!  Now leave me alone!”  And he kicked back his chair and stormed out of the room.  We looked at each other.  “Right,” said Alice, nodding her head.  “Right.  Anything…”

[Andlat]

Oh, my! I just assumed they'd be wearing the same costume/outfit, but this is far better, especially with the cliffhanger

[sissyboy1212]

Oh my! I am so excited to see Douglas in his cute little dance costume and pretty tights. I hope there are lots of sparkles and frills! I think he is excited too.

The scariest part of this story so far is that Donald might not get to wear a girl's outfit too. The horror!

[Sandra B]

5.
It wasn’t easy.  Getting just what we needed.  But with Margaret’s help we located everything.  The only prohibition was girls’ clothes.  Donald had made that very clear.  But that didn’t leave us much choice.  So no dresses, no skirts, no frills, no pink.  But if he had to be male, the options were very limited.  He had painted himself into a corner, a corner reserved only for superheroes and baby boys.  And despite several suggestions in the former category from Douglas, we had no intention of adopting that course.
Donald himself soon became curious as to what was being acquired on his behalf, but we would only answer his questions with “you’ll have to wait and see – don’t worry, we’re sure you’ll like it”.  He wasn’t so sure, in fact he was decidedly suspicious, but even Douglas couldn’t enlighten him.  A couple of days before the party, he asked Margaret whether we were intending to make him parade in the streets in his costume.
“Don’t worry.  We’ll be going by car.  And I’ve arranged that you can change at the school.  Several other children will be doing the same.  Is that acceptable?”
“S’pose so.  Why don’t you just tell me what you’ve got me?  You sure it isn’t something girly?”
“I swear it isn’t, darling.  You’ll love it.  It’s a shame you didn’t want a girl’s costume, though.  Look how pleased Douglas is with his.”
“Is he?  Just cos he didn’t object don’t mean he’s pleased.  He looks pretty soppy if you ask me.”
Douglas he got a beautiful little plain mauve tutu dance dress, with a frilled bodice and shoulder straps.  We’d also bought him white tights and silver ballet pumps to go with it, and a pair of silver clip-ons if he wanted them.  Very simple, but he looked so pretty, and Alice and I made such a fuss of him, he was really beginning to look forward to showing it off. 

Alice and I didn’t care much what we wore on Halloween.  We were much more interested in the St. Mark’s party in the evening.  Mum bought me some green woolly tights and we looked out my old green leotard, and with a few cabbage leaves attached to a belt I transformed myself into a pixie.  Alice didn’t bother to make an effort at all.  She simply wore her riding clothes, including her hat, which was funny.  We ran straight back to Alice’s after school, and her mum drove the lot of us to St. Mark’s.  Margaret had brought a hold-all with the costumes in it.  It emitted a faint tinkling sound when moved, which the boys thought was odd.
“Was that a bell?  What’s in there?” demanded Donald.
“Probably just Douglas’s earrings,” said Margaret, dismissively.  “They’re in a little metal box.”
“Earrings?  You wearin’ earrings, Doug?”
“Maybe…”
“I think we’d better keep clear of each other tonight.  I’m not goin’ round with a bloke in a tutu wearin’ earrings!”
Alice looked at me and winked.

One of the teachers showed us to an empty classroom where we could change.  The glass in the door was papered over, and we were on the second floor, overlooking the playground.  We could see kids arriving at the main hall, and hear the sound of music from within.  Margaret got out Douglas’s costume first of all, and he went into the far corner to change.  Then it was Donald’s turn.  Of course he was full of suspicion, and that turned into certainty with the first item Margaret produced; a baby harness in pale blue vinyl, with reins!  The breastplate was trimmed with a row of tiny silver bells, and bore the words, “I’m Thirsty!”, in yellow letters.
“No.  No way.  That’s it.  I’m leaving.”
He headed for the door.
“Oh, Donald.  Before you go…”
“What?”
“Your friends will miss you if you’re not here.”
“I don’t care.”
“So I brought a few photos of you to hand out, to make them feel better.”  She opened an envelope and thumbed through them.
“Like to see them?  Here, this is a nice one.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t I?  Well, no, maybe I’d let the girls do it.  There’s quite a few.  Look at you in this one.  So cute!”
He actually stamped his foot in annoyance.  But he changed his mind about leaving, and Margaret was soon getting him dressed.

True to his wishes, blue was the dominant colour.  In fact, every part of his costume was blue of one shade or another.  After he’d taken off his shirt, and put on a cute little pale blue stretch cotton vest, with short sleeves, we buckled him into his harness.  It was quite an elaborate affair.  Straps from the top and bottom of the breastplate buckled behind his back, the lower set with rings for the reins, shoulder straps kept it from slipping down, and further pairs of straps with loops on the ends hung down front and back.  Margaret threaded a blue leather belt through the loops, and slipped on a couple of other attachments before buckling it up at the waist.
“What are those for,” asked Donald, grumpily.
“You’ll see, dear.  Now, give me your hands.”
“My hands?”
“Yes.  Now, please.”
From her bag she pulled out a pair of blue leather mittens with wrist straps.  Each little strap also boasted three tiny silver bells.  She made him close his fists, pushed them into the mitts, and buckled them up tightly.
“There.  Now you won’t be able to play with anything you’re not supposed to.”
“This isn’t fair, Mags!  This is far worse than what Douglas is wearing!”
“But you didn’t want that, did you?  This is the alternative.  Come on, smile.  You’ll look great!”
She went back to the bag.
“No!  Please!”
“It’s just a pull-up.  Your size too.  It is rather bulky, isn’t it.  But that’s the idea.  Hurry, please.  Off with those jeans and pants.”
“It’s got blue teddies on it!”
“Well you’d have cause to complain if they were pink!  Now come on.  Stop prevaricating!” 
I think that was the point he knew his protests were useless.  He was soon in his nice thick pull-up, and stepping into a pair of blue-tinged plastic pants, transparent enough to show off the blue teddies underneath.  Alice and I were ecstatic.  Margaret made him sit down while she helped him on with a pair of short blue wellies with yellow teddy faces on the feet.  Then she completed his costume with his accessories.  A full bottle of milk slipped into the bottle-holder on his belt.  Next a rattle, and a spare pacifier on a blue ribbon.  Finally she buckled on a soft leather collar with a ring at the front, from which depended his main pacifier, also on a short length of ribbon.
“There.  I don’t think we’ve forgotten anything.  Have we girls?”
“No,” said Alice.  “Donald, you look pretty amazing.”
“Yes, you do,” I added.  “You’re going to be a sensation at the party.  You’re all blue!”
“Except his cheeks,” murmured Alice.