Halloween Revenge

[Andlat]

Ballet class next? Cheerleading?

I was SO sure that full of grace meant ballet, but deportment class was even better, so I'm quite satisfied.

[DaraJaney]

On Wednesday morning Freddy was the unhappy recipient of an invitation to a birthday party.  It came from an 8-year-old girl who was in one of his deportment classes the previous day.  He figured he had managed to conceal the fact that he was a boy – something helped by Mdme Patrice insisting that he flounce around the place like all the real girls.

His mother dressed him in a pink satin party dress with three layers of stiff organza petticoats and pink lace-patterned tights.  The dress came almost to his knees which was something of a relief but she made him wear white frilly pettipants which had a couple of inches of leg.  If his petticoats tipped up much at all, the frills of his pettipants would likely be seen.

“Not very merry or glad, are we?” his mother asked the very glum boy. She went to make a phone call and a few minutes later the witches appeared.

“Can you make him just as happy to be a pretty little girl as he was on Halloween night?  Wednesday’s child is supposed to be merry and glad”.  “No please Mum!” Freddy begged.  It was bad enough having to dress as a stupid girl but he dreaded people thinking he actually liked it.

But it was too late.  The taller witch twitched her fingers in his direction.  A smile appeared on Freddy’s face.  “Why don’t you show the ladies what you learned at deportment yesterday?”

Freddy curtsied and happily flounced back and forth across the room with his hands held out daintily hovering over his petticoats.  “Give us a twirl!” his mother ordered.  Freddy held his arms up and twirled.  His petticoats swooshed upwards revealing the lower layers of lace on his pink pettipants.

“We are all set for the party!”  Maggie just delayed Freddy long enough to pin two big pink bows to his ringlets.  “Come along!”  Freddy skipped out of the room.

“Where is the party?” Maggie asked.  “Just a few streets away”, her mother responded.  “Can we accompany him there?”  “Of course!  Go along now with your sisters!”

Maggie and Chloe opened the front door and Freddy skipped out and down the driveway.  They could barely keep up as he flounced along towards the busy main road.

Heads turned and cars slowed down as people wondered about the teenage girl dressed like a much younger child skipping along inanely.  Maggie scanned the surroundings hoping that he would be seen by his classmates but none seemed to be around.

On arrival at the party, the birthday girl’s mum was clearly wondering about this odd situation.  It was no surprise that the ‘girl’ she had invited was wearing a pretty dress like the previous day or that she was mincing along in an ultra-feminine fashion – given she’d been at deportment class.  But her sisters were so different!  They were tomboyish if anything.  Her little sister seemed so much more mature.  She wondered if there was a mental health issue involved.

Maggie and Chloe lingered as long as they could and watched as Freddy joined a gaggle of little girls to play ring-a-ring-a-rosie.  He was at least a foot taller than any of the girls and looked much more of a sissy than most of them.

A couple of boys threw their eyes up at the behaviour of the girls.  It was clear they would much prefer to be elsewhere.  But as the game really got going and the girls twirled and jumped up and down, Freddy’s flying petticoats gave glimpses of his pettipants making the boys snigger.

When Maggie returned to rescue her brother from the party in the evening she noticed that the boys at the party were much more pleased with themselves.  She found Freddy squatting on a little child’s chair with three other girls having a doll’s tea party.  He was holding a large doll on his knees holding a tiny tea cup up to her lips.  He was so enthusiastic about the play that the real girls were giving each other funny looks.

On the way home Maggie saw that some boys from Freddy’s class were kicking a ball about in the park.  Freddy skipped his way along quite oblivious to their presence.  The boys stopped their game seeing this ‘girl’ in a stupid pink frilly dress.  Then they recognised Maggie and the penny dropped.  “That’s 
.” the boy was speechless and couldn’t complete the sentence.  Another said “I’d heard about Halloween but 
”  They were perplexed.

Freddy had skipped past them in a flurry of petticoats and ringlets before Maggie could really appreciate the scene.  She had to run along as she was concerned that he might skip out onto the road.

At home his mother asked about the party.  “It was wonderful!  We played ring-a-ring-a-rosie and had a doll’s tea party and there was a bouncy castle!  I could do somersaults on it!”  Maggie was so disappointed to miss him doing somersaults in those petticoats and pettipants but she reckoned she knew now why those boys seemed so pleased with themselves.

“So Thursday’s child is sour and sad”, his mother considered.  “Somebody is in for a bit of a mood-swing.”
 

[Andlat]

Shouldn't be too hard for Freddy to be sour and sad. Surely his mom won't have some sort of sissy twist to reveal.

[DaraJaney]

Freddy’s mother got the witches to cancel the spell making him happy to be a sissy little girl.  There was no need for a spell to make him sour and sad.

His sister Maggie had gone through a Goth phase – unluckily for Freddy.  She retrieved some of the clothes from the attic.  He was dressed in a red and black plaid skirt over ‘crowded’ layers of petticoats, a white blouse with a black jacket over it but with a lace collar and long lacey cuffs drooping over his hands.  He wore black fishnet tights and black boots – which were actually a great deal more comfortable than his shoes with the three-inch heels.  She applied lots of black eyeshadow and dark red nail polish along with a spider broach and skull rings.  His ringlets were not out of place for the goth look once they had red and black plaid bows pinned to them.

Maggie decided to bring him into the city centre where there was a goth hangout in one of the squares.  Freddy was relieved to be able to slouch around and look gloomy which is how he felt.  But his deportment training still stuck and he frequently found himself flouncing along which seemed to be only natural given his flowing lace and stiff petticoats.

When their double-decker bus came, Maggie went on first and headed straight upstairs.  Freddy was nervous ascending, wondering about the view he was presenting to the boys sitting opposite the stairwell.  His attempts to press his petticoats down further met with resistance from the crowded layers.

Descending when they reached their destination was no better.  The boys were still there and this time Freddy could see their smirking faces.  He tried to go down the stairs as fast as possible but that just made his petticoats and skirt flutter upwards and he was just relieved to get off the bus.

When they arrived in the square Freddy saw the group of goths by the fountain.  His appearance was rather tame by comparison to most of them.  There were piercings, chains and tattoos aplenty.  Some of the girls had some pretty scary make-up – as had some of the boys.

Freddy, as the newbie attracted plenty of attention, while Maggie engaged some of them in conversation.  He could see them eyeing up his long lacey cuffs, his plaid skirt poufed up by his petticoats and his fish-net tights.  He was still pretty girly compared to most of them.

Maggie introduced him as Frederica “but she prefers Freddy”.  “You have your bus fare home”, Maggie told him, indicating the shoulder bag she had given him.  “Have fun!” she said as she disappeared before he could plead not to be left alone with them.

Freddy smiled awkwardly at the circle of staring faces.  He felt so self-conscious.  He didn’t know where to put his hands.  The most natural thing seemed to be resting on his ballooning skirt but that was a constant reminder of his petticoated state.

Eventually they decided to go to a cafĂ©.  Freddy went along reluctantly.  He could hardly leave so soon after getting there – he was clearly dressed up specially for the occasion.

They chose a booth in the cafĂ© and were amused at Freddy’s failure to control his petticoats as he slid in between table and seat.  Girls started asking him where he got his blouse, his petticoats and how he got his ringlets so stiff.  He had the presence of mind to talk about second-hand shops for the clothes but struggled to think how to explain his ringlets.  Eventually he just muttered something about his mother doing them.

After the cafĂ© the groups headed for an arcade of second-hand shops.  Freddy just felt awkward as the girls kept asking him about blouses and skirts and tights and jewellery.  He struggled to have opinions.  His only thought was when he could respectably leave and go home.

When they had exhausted the shops in the arcade he took the opportunity.  They were surprised as they obviously expected to spend the whole day together.

He got to his bus stop to see one disappear into the distance.  It was an hour until the next one.  He wandered the streets but now, on his own, attracted much more attention from passers-by amused at his frills and petticoats.  He understood why the goths stuck together.

He was relieved when he got home and in out of public sight.  His mother had been pleased that the ‘sour and sad’ effect had been achieved.  “Friday’s child is loving and giving.  Hmm.  That might be a challenge.”

[Andlat]

If my math is correct, Freddy's week as a girl is nearly done. Of course, given his ringlets and, more importantly, his tendency to flounce everywhere, I don't know if Freddy will really be returning to normal at the end of the week. He clearly doesn't get any choice in anything anyway.

[Sissy Little Girl]

DaraJaney, You never seem to disappoint with each of your chapters.  Poor Freddy is going thru a week of learning about what it is like to be a girl.  He can't keep from doing all of these activities because of what the witches did to him.  Oh to be in his place.

[DaraJaney]

Freddy’s mother rose to the challenge.  On Friday morning she came into his bedroom and hung a girl scout uniform on the back of the door.  “The girl scouts are visiting a nursing home today to visit the elderly people and bring them presents!  And you will be joining them!”.

Freddy was dressed in the beige skirt and blouse, a yellow neck-tie under his collar with matching ribbons in his ringlets and tan tights. His mother delivered him to the scout’s den where they were met by their group leader.    Freddy was unsure whether she knew he was a boy or not so he thought he’d better act like a girl just in case.  He straightened his flared skirt as he stood by the car.

“You can pick her up around 6pm” the leader told his mum.  Freddy sighed.  A whole day dressed like this surrounded by stupid girls.  He checked himself.  He had to stop thinking that.

He was led into the den where the noise of chattering girls was deafening.  It did ease a bit as the leader came in with the new ‘girl’.  He found himself being studied from head to toe.  He smoothed his skirt down again, tugged the cuffs of his blouse nervously and wondered if his tights were sagging.  He looked around grimly, realising that most of the girl scouts wore trousers.

“Before we go to the nursing home we’ll have our sewing practice”, the leader announced.  “How is your sewing?” she asked ‘Frederica’.  He just shook his head.  “We have some beginners over here”, she brought him into a corner where four girls were putting their chairs in a circle.  “Freddy here is a complete novice.”  Freddy flinched on hearing his correct name used but realised that it could be a girl’s name too.

He thought that some of the girls were looking at him oddly and wondered if they knew but then he realised it was his stupid ringlets.  He sat, carefully tucking his skirt in under him and pressing his knees together in what he hoped was a convincingly girlish fashion.  He was given a scrap of cloth and the girl next to him tried to show him how to hem it.

He was no more interested in learning how to sew.  He was hopeless at it.  The girls giggled at his attempts.  “When do we go to the nursing home?” he asked, desperate for an end to this pointless endeavour.  “The bus will pick us up at 12.”  That was still over two hours away!  He supposed he’d better pay more attention to his sewing lesson if he was going to be here that long.

The leader was pleased with his final attempt at hemming as Freddy looked at the clock every few minutes desperate for it to be over.  Finally they heard the bus arrive and he found himself in the middle of the mob of girls as they jostled to get on.

When they arrived at the nursing home they all selected presents from a sack and went into the lounge where the residents were gathered.

Freddy found a little old lady and approached her with the present.  “Oh thank you, little girl!”  Freddy blushed.  “What pretty ringlets!”  Freddy cringed.  The girls within earshot giggled.  “It’s so nice these days to see a girl who likes looking pretty!”  Freddy just wanted to get out of there.

Once they were away from the lady the girls started teasing him.  One of them went to pull off one of his ribbons.  “Stop!” Freddy protested strongly.  If his ribbons were undone he wouldn’t know how to re-do them and might be in trouble with his mother.  The girls were amused.  “Oh dear!  Don’t worry, your pretty little ribbons are still in your stupid ringlets!”  Freddy was thoroughly embarrassed at how strongly he protested.  He must have looked like a right spoiled little sissy.

Lunch had been arranged.  Freddy stood holding his plate of sandwiches as a succession of elderly ladies came and complimented how pretty he looked.  He was getting way more attention than any of the real girls who were, of course, dressed quite plainly for a girl scout event.  His ringlets and ribbons definitely marked him out for more unwanted attention.

On the bus back, Freddy continued to be mocked by the girls for being an attention seeker playing up to the old ladies.  He couldn’t really defend himself.  He just wanted to get out of there.

When his mother pulled up outside the hall at 6pm he wanted to run to the car but remembered he needed to show decorum in his skirt.  He had to endure a few final jibes as he departed.  “Must get home early to set those pretty ringlets!”

His mother smiled over at him as they pulled away.  “And, finally, Saturday’s child works hard for a living.”  He sighed heavily, holding on that word ‘finally’.