Mitch

[Sandra B]

11.
Mitch read all this in Tabby’s look in an instant.  Not articulated, but unmistakeable.  At once he saw her in a new light.  Yesterday she had seemed so motherly and caring.  Now she appeared in her true colours; a calculating, manipulative woman, with an almost prurient appetite for control – in fact, the true mother of her elder daughter!
Tabby saw the fear in his eyes, and pressed home her advantage.  “Alice, how about a few photos for the others.  I bet they’ll be just as excited as us to see our little protĂ©gé’s new persona.”
“Good idea.  Mitch, darling, come out into the garden, there’s a love, and we’ll put together a preliminary portfolio.  We’ll send the best ones to Grace and Patty and Sarah and your mum.”
They ushered him towards the back door.  It was impossible for him to resist, or to escape.  He could have run back out of the front door, but…  The idea made him shiver.  He felt desperate.
“But, Alice, all I really wanted was to be your baby…you know, while you’re waiting…”
“Oh, don’t worry, silly.  You’ll still be my baby, any time I want you – I mean, any time you want.  And you’ll always be Lettie’s and Lottie’s.  Won’t he, Tabby?” 
Tabby smiled.  “Oh, absolutely.  The girls love Baby Mitch.”
“But now you can be a big girl as well!  I wasn’t going to tell you  - it was going to be a surprise.  Grace has got you a lovely dress to wear to her party!  Isn’t that exciting?  Wait till you see it!  I won’t spoil it by describing it.  And there’ll be stockings, and panties…oh, and makeup!  Patty’s the expert.  She told me she can’t wait to sit you down and get to work.  You’re going to be the most beautiful girl at the party…”

Internally, Mitch was in a state of panic.  Now he would have given anything to be in a lovely, safe, comforting baby outfit.  Dressing up as a baby was a calculated act, which in no way effaced his true identity.  It was funny, clever…and embarrassing, sure.  But this girl stuff was different.  To anyone seeing him like this, it would appear much more than an act.  He looked too good, too convincing.  Too pretty.  He couldn’t help his looks, the softness of his profile, his little, slightly turned-up, nose, his dark eyes and long lashes, the smooth lines of his body.  It felt dangerous, and he knew that somehow, he had to escape.  But for the moment, he had no choice but to go along with the charade.  Yes, that was the best, in fact the only, strategy at present.  Go along, let them think he was compliant, wait till they had tired of him a bit.  They would understand.  Though he didn’t trust that Tabby any more…and then there was Lettie, as well.  He sighed, confused and helpless.

The photo session proved to be exhaustive and exhausting.  They had him posing against the flower borders, posing on the patio, and standing on the table of the garden furniture.  They had him standing on one leg, bending down, looking between his legs, and on all fours.  They had him hands on hips, holding the little wings of his leotard, pulling up his socks, giving a peace sign, and with a stupid alarmed expression on his face and one finger to his lips, naughty-little-girl style.  Then Tabby had the wonderful idea of utilising some of her girls’ bunches, ribbons, and bangles, and Mitch was taken back to her house, again running the gauntlet of the crowded Saturday street, where he was suitably adorned and then made to pose on the children’s slide and swing on the back lawn.  The ladies pulled him this way and that, arranging his body and limbs to their satisfaction, and this constant handling, combined with the tight, stretchy leotard and the warmth of the sun, had the unfortunate (or perhaps fortunate, if you were Tabby) effect of casting serious doubt on his proclaimed gender.
When it was finally all over, Tabby sat him in the kitchen, made him some sandwiches, and told him to help himself to ice cream from the freezer, whilst she and Alice downloaded, sorted, and distributed the photos to their friends.
“There.  I think that’s it,” said Alice, at last.  “Not a bad day’s work.  Look, Patty’s responded already – gobsmacked emoji, nothing else!”
“What else is there to say?” returned Tabby.
“And who’s Trish?”
“Oh just a friend of mine.  She had a brief glimpse of Mitch this morning.  I thought she deserved a set.”
They heard the front door being unlocked.  “Oh, that must be Lettie…”
Mitch, terrified in case she really had decided to bring Molly back with her, actually left his ice cream and hid outside the back door.  But he needn’t have worried.  Lettie wandered in looking dishevelled, her hair awry, her britches and boots muddy.
“Good day, darling?”
“Hard work,  We galloped our horses through Mark’s Field.  You know how muddy that gets.  Took us ages to brush them off…”  She caught sight of Tabby’s laptop.  “What’s that?  Is that…”
“Oh, yes, Mitch.  In that leotard Grace bought him.  I don’t know why he decided to wear it today…”
“I do,” grinned Lettie.  “I told him you had instructed him to!”
“Lettie!  You naughty girl!”  Tabby said, with a smile.
“You’re sending them to your friends, right?  I want some too.”
“Well…”
“You’ve got me to thank for them, after all.”
“She’s right,” laughed Alice.  “It was her prank.”
“Well, okay then.  Choose which ones you want, and I’ll…”
“Just send me all of them.”
“NO!  Don’t let her have them!” shouted Mitch, springing into the room.
Having satisfied himself there was no Molly, he had returned to the kitchen, and had been listening to the conversation. 
Lettie stared at him, and burst out laughing.
“Mitch,” she said, with a reproachful giggle, “have you been showing off to my mum and Alice?  You are such a naughty boy!”
Mitch didn’t know what to say.  He coloured up at once.
“Of course not!  I-It was y-you!  Y-you played a trick on me.  No way would I have…  But Tabby, don’t let her have any of those pictures, please…”
“Oops, sorry Mitch.  Already sent.  Anyway, no harm done.  I mean, she’s seen you in your new outfit anyway.  And no doubt she’s going to see you in it lots more…”
“No!  I mean, it’s not that.  It’s just that…”
“Ooh, look at this one…” interrupted Lettie, “did you see, auntie Alice?  He’s going to have to do something about that if he wants to look like a real girl…”
She turned to him with a grin of supreme triumph.  Poor Mitch.  He suddenly felt so silly and vulnerable in his little sparkly leotard and pink thigh socks, in front of Lettie, confident in her full riding outfit, with her whip sticking out of one boot.  Tears filled his eyes, he bit his lip, and with an impotent, “I hate you,” he retreated into the kitchen to console himself with another bowl of ice cream.  Even that was pink, he realised.  And as he spooned it into his mouth, he just caught Alice saying quietly, “…and Grace says she’s found the cutest panties to go with his party dress…”

[Sandra B]

12.
But Mitch would have to wait to see his new panties.  He was tired after the shoot, so his mother came to take him home.
“Did you have a nice time, darling?”
Mitch maintained a grumpy silence.  He was thinking hard.  There were escape routes, but each was fraught with dangers.  He went over and over the possibilities, even when he got to bed that night.  And when he fell asleep, he dreamed vividly.  Once he was running around the corridors of St. Luke’s, enc-umbered by a thick nappy, pursued by a bunch of kids led by Molly Caulker, desperately looking for a place to hide; and when he found one, under a bench in the cloakroom, the rustling of his plastic pants gave him away!  He awoke with a start, rather surprised to find he was wearing ordinary underpants.  He turned over with a sigh, and tried, but failed, to get back to sleep. 
But as he was doing his homework that Sunday, he made a resolution.  Next Friday he was going to fight back.  He was going to call their bluff.  He reasoned that there was no advantage to Lettie in “outing” him.  That would result simply in her losing her leverage, and it would be the end of her little game.  If he failed, his future was uncertain.  But if he triumphed…

During the following week he was often seized by doubt.  And he was in a constant state of anxiety.  But he kept his nerve.  It was now or never.  The following week was Grace’s party, and he had a premonition that, if he once was forced to attend that, he was lost for ever.

Friday came, and he made his way to the Bradleys as instructed.  This time he was early – it was a quarter to four when he knocked, with assumed boldness, at the front door.  Tabby answered it.
“Mitch!  Darling!  You’re early today.  Come in.  How are you?  The girls aren’t home yet.  They’ll be here shortly.  But your new baby clothes are on Lettie’s bed.  I think you’ll be happy when you see them.  They’re a bit more grown-up than the others.  Why don’t you go up and change, and I’ll make you a snack?”
Mitch wasn’t smiling as he followed her to the foot of the stairs.
“Are you all right, Mitch?  Did something happen at school?”
“No.  I’m fine.”  And he turned and began to climb the stairs.
The bedroom door was ajar.  He pushed it open.  On the bed was a gaudy pink carrier bag, with “P & S” on the front in gold script, and a note pinned to it.  He approached and read.
“Mitch, darling.  I think Lettie has told you about these new baby pants.  You’re a toddler now, so it’s time to do away with those horrid nappies!   The top is pure angora, so I’ve included a silk vest so it’s not itchy on your skin.  I hope you like your new outfit.  Lots of love, Grace xxx”
Mitch snorted.  He picked up the bag, ripped off the note, and emptied the contents onto the bed.  The first thing he saw was the new pants.  “What the…”  The mere sight of them hardened his resolution.  “No way would I ever wear those…!”
The garment in question was made of pearly pink latex, decorated with little balloons of various colours tied with ribbons.  The body of the pants was loose, but the leg and waist bands were of thicker latex, an inch or two wide, and clearly designed to fit tightly and prevent any leakage.  Between the legs was attached a tiny plug, apparently for drainage purposes.  Mitch shuddered.  And yes, there was a little long-sleeved, short angora top, with its undervest, plus a couple of other items.  A pair of pink Doc Martens, and short angora socks, a pink baseball cap, with “Girl Power” scrawled across the front in silver - and a sealed red cardboard box, which he decided was probably best left alone.  Probably a bonnet, or a load of ribbons.  With a snort of contempt, he turned away and headed downstairs.
He could hear Tabby in the kitchen.  He considered saying goodbye, but then decided simply to leave and go home.  He was half way to the front door when it opened, and in walked Lettie and Lottie.
“Mitch!  You’re early.  Good boy.  Have you seen your new outfit?  It’s so cute…”
“Yes,” added Lottie, with undisguised excitement, “you’re a big girl now, auntie Grace said, so…”
“I’m not wearing it.  Are you fuc-king serious?  I’ve had enough.  I’m going.  So you know what you can do with…”
“Mitch!”  Tabby’s voice halted him in his tracks.  “You come right back here, young man!”
“I’m sorry, Tabby…”
She put her hands on her hips are glared at him.  “Aunt Tabby to you, miss!”
Mitch was flustered.  “Er, aunt Tabby, I…”
“Did you just swear at my daughters?”
“I, er, no…I…”
“He did, mummy,” cried Lottie.  “He said a bad word…”  Tears filled her eyes.
Mitch tried to recover his position.  “Look, I’m sorry, Lottie.  I wasn’t swearing at you…”
“Get up those stairs this minute!”  Mitch hesitated.  He had never seen Tabby like this before.  “Tab…aunt Tabby, I really don’t want…”
“This minute!  Or it’ll be the worse for you.”
Mitch vacillated.  He knew this was a pivotal moment in his life.  Tabby’s voice carried a tone of authority difficult to resist.  Yet at the same time, he knew that despite the hazards of disobedience, he was a free agent – almost thirteen, almost a teenager!  At that instant, his whole future hung in the balance.  He made a decision.  He turned towards the door.  But at that critical moment there was a ring at the bell.  Fatally, he hesitated.  Lettie ran and opened the door.  It was Alice.
“What’s going on?  I heard shouting.”
“Our little man here” – she indicated Mitch with a curt nod of her head – “seems to think he can do what he wants.  He’s refusing to put on the lovely new outfit Grace got him.”
Alice was horrified.  “What?”
“It’s true, auntie Alice,” blurted Lottie, “and he said a swear to us!”
“Mitchell Langston!” cried Alice.  “Just who do you think you are?”
Mitch opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Well?”
“I…”
“I’ll tell you who you are, if you don’t know.  And you don’t seem to know.  You are the lucky boy on whom Tabby and I and our friends have lavished all our love and attention and kindness.  You are the lucky – ungrateful – boy who Tabby’s daughters have chosen as their playmate, above all others.  You are the boy who agreed to be my baby all through my pregnancy, and receive all the cosseting, all the pampering, of my baby-to-be.”
Mitch’s resolution had evaporated under this tirade.  He looked from Alice to Tabby, and back again to Alice, and he knew their combined wills were simply too much for him to confront.  He started stammering.
“A-Alice…auntie Alice…I-I… didn’t mean to be rude…I’m sorry I swore…I…”
“Grace said this one might be trouble, somewhere down the line,” remarked Tabby, with a toss of her head.  “She was right.  She saw the streak of rebelliousness in him right from the start.”
Alice saw him weakening, and pressed home her advantage.
“And you are the boy, Mitch Langston, who is going to go upstairs now, and put on your lovely new outfit, and come down and apologise to Lettie and Lottie for being so horrid.  Or you can go over my knee right this minute.”
“No, please…”
“Well, what’s it to be?”
Mitch hung his head, whimpered, and headed for the stairs.

[Sandra B]

13.
Once she was sure Mitch was upstairs, Tabby went to the front door and locked the mortice lock.  Then she indicated they should all go into the lounge. 
“Girls?  You can go and make a snack in the kitchen.  You’ll find some chocolate buns in the fridge.”
“Yippee!” cried Lottie.
“Only one each, mind.”
“Yes, mummy.”
The women exchanged looks.
“Thank goodness you came round.  I thought he was about to leave.”
“I guessed what was going on.  I hope he’s not going to have second thoughts, though.”
“Grace thinks if she can get him to her party, she can tip the balance.”
“Yes, I know.  Considering she doesn’t have children, she’s pretty good in managing them.  Did she tell you her plan?”
“Not fully.  I know she’s got a surprise for him.”
“She has.  Her idea is that he’ll be so happy to get out of babywear and into something a bit more grown-up, he’ll start to be more compliant.  She thinks that inside, he’s a natural girl.  And she going to make sure he gets lots of attention – I mean lots.  I guess that’s his weak spot,” Alice grinned.
“He’d make a lovely girl...”
“I know.  But he’s going to be back in his baby things for me - though that will only be about once a month, by the looks of it.”
The conversation paused, each of them pursuing their own thoughts.

In the girls’ bedroom, Mitch was examining the baby clothes once again.  He didn’t want to put them on, but he knew he had to, and he also knew he’d better not delay.  The last thing he wanted was the women coming upstairs to assist.  So he stripped off his clothes, steeled himself, and stepped into the pants. 
The rubber was cool against his skin, and gave him goosebumps on his legs.  But he pulled them up bravely.  They fitted perfectly.  Probably made to measure, he thought.  The legs bands fitted firmly.  He snapped the waistband into place.  He checked in the mirror, just to make sure the latex was quite opaque.  It was, and he noted unconsciously that the milky, pearly pink went very well with the colour of his skin.  Next, on went the silk vest, and the angora jumper.  It was close-fitting, just waist-length, and delightfully fluffy; and to his surprise didn’t tickle his shoulders and arms one bit.  He sat on the bed, pulled on the loose socks and the Doc Martens, and laced them up.  He put on the baseball cap, and pulled it down over his thick, dark hair till he almost couldn’t see, to hide his eyes.  He ignored the little red box – no point looking for trouble, he said to himself.  He heard movement downstairs, and hurried to the stairs, the latex making an unfamiliar but pleasant rustling, plopping, sound as he walked.  Just as he got to the landing, Tabby called from below.
“Mitch?  Have you changed? Hurry up, darling.”
“Coming!” he called back, as he descended.  He knew the main thing now was to attempt to re-establish himself in her good books, and avoid any punishments.  So he presented himself in the lounge and stood to attention for inspection, eager to propitiate her.
Tabby and Alice regarded him with approval.
“There, doesn’t that feel better?” said Tabby.  “What on earth was all that fuss about?  Now before you do anything else, go into the kitchen and apologise to the girls.”
“Yes…auntie,” he replied, desperate to show respect; and immediately went to the kitchen.
The girls were sitting at the kitchen table, eating sandwiches.  They looked at him unsmilingly when he entered.
Lettie looked him up and down.  She smirked triumphantly.  “Hello little baby rubberpants.  Well?  What do you want?” she asked.
Lottie, for whom the snack had quickly erased her hurt feelings, stared.  “Mitch, you look really nice…”
“I’m really sorry I was rude earlier,” he said, openly, turning red as he did so.  “I didn’t mean to swear, either, and I wasn’t swearing at you.  Please forgive me.”
“We do,” cried Lottie, jumping up and throwing her arms around him in a clumsy but sincere hug.  “I don’t want you to stop being our baby…”
Lettie was not so forgiving, however.
“You need to learn obedience, baby, or you’re going to get into big trouble.”  She flicked casually through the pictures on her phone.
Mitch became alarmed.  “Please Lettie…what do you want me to do to make up for…my bad behaviour?  Anything…”
Tabby and Alice appeared at the door.
“He wants me to forgive him, mummy,” said Lettie, wrinkling her nose.  “But I think he needs a lesson so he doesn’t do it again.”
“Well, dear, what sort of lesson were you thinking of…?  Please put down the phone.  Remember, I let you have those pictures on the understanding you would only let Molly see them with my permission.  In fact, I’d prefer you transferred them all to your computer.”
“I know, mummy, but…”
“In any case, there’ll be lots more opportunities to add to your collection.”
“All right.  Then I want him to pose for us in the garden this evening.”
“All right.  That goes without saying.”
“And I want to punish him.  Can I spank him?”
“Well, dear…maybe not right now.  Can’t you think of anything else?  Something small.  He has apologised, after all.”
“Okay…wait!  I have an idea.  I’ll whisper.”
She jumped up, pulled at her mother’s arm, and whispered in her ear.  She stood back.  “Can I do that, then?”
Tabby laughed, and whispered something to Alice, who smiled. 
“All right.  That’s quite a good idea, actually.  Don’t you think, Alice?”
“Definitely.  Mitch, how do you fancy a little walk?”
“A walk?”  Mitch looked fearful.
“Now listen, darling,” said Tabby.  “We’ve just been talking about you.  It seems to us you’re far too self-conscious about dressing up.  It’s no big deal.  You don’t have to be embarrassed.  It’s time you learnt to overcome these irrational fears of being laughed at.  We don’t laugh at you, do we?”
“No…”
“And the girls?”
“No…but Lettie…”
“Oh, I know, Lettie can be a bit of a tease at times.  But it means nothing.  Now I need the girls to pop down to the corner shop for me, and they’re going to take you with them.”
“What?  Like this?”
“Oh, dear.  There you go again.  Relax, Mitch.  No-one’s going to take any notice.”
“But…”
“Well it’s that or a smack bottom in front of the girls.  Make your choice.”
Mitch was silent for a moment.  “How far’s the shop?”
“A couple of hundred yards, that’s all.  Here.”  She adjusted his cap.  “Now you can see where you’re going.”
He sighed.  All right.  But can we be quick?”
“Course, silly,” said Lettie.  “Come on Lots, let’s go.  Mum, I’ve got the bag.  Give me your purse and the list.”
“List…?” began Mitch. 
But Lottie had already taken his hand and was leading him to the door.

[Sandra B]

14.
Perhaps Tabby had slightly underestimated the distance to the shop, but Mitch didn’t realise until they were out in the street and well on their way.  He walked between the girls, holding hands with both of them.  He was so distracted looking around for dangers, that it was three or four minutes before he realised the shop was still not in sight.
“Where’s this shop, then?”
“Oh, not far,” said Lettie.  “Just down the road and around the corner.”
“But…it looks busy down there…”
“Well, that’s where all the shops are.  What do you expect?”
Mitch “cast one longing, lingering look behind”, beginning to doubt he had made the right choice.  “What do you have to buy?”
“Let’s see…”  Lettie unfolded the list.  “Hmm.  Milk, rice, eggs…leeks…we’ll have to go to the veg shop for them…baby wipes!” She sniggered.  “They must be for you!  That’s the chemist.  Stamps…post office…”
“Wait a minute!  I thought we were going to one shop, not the whole street!”
“Oops.  Never mind, Mitch.  It says here at the bottom, “and let Mitch buy himself a treat while you’re in the sweet shop”.  That’s nice.”
“Sweet shop?  So that’s…five shops we’re going to?  No way.  I’m going back.”  He stopped dead.
Lottie looked sad.  “Please come to the shops with us, Mitch.  It’ll be much more fun with you there.”
“Yeah, please, Mitch,” said Lettie, sarcastically.  “And by the way, mummy said if you try to come back by yourself she’s not going to open the door. So you’ll be out the front for the rest of the day!”
Mitch stood there for a moment in despair.  Lottie said, “are you going to cry, Mitch?”  But he didn’t cry.  He did, however, stamp his foot just like an angry toddler, and cry, “not fair!” – which elicited some hilarity from two passing women with two little girls in tow.
“Ooh, grumpy little thing,” said one.
“Needs his nap, I expect,” returned the other.
“Such a pretty outfit,” the first called over her shoulder, as they walked on.  And as they were passing out of earshot, he heard one on the little girls say, “why is that boy wearing baby’s pants, mummy?”

Mitch had no alternative but to continue with the girls towards the shops.  It was a bright, warm evening, and people were out.  As they approached, and the pavements became busier, and he became more and more self-conscious.  He was aware he was attracting a considerable amount of attention: even though he was keeping his eyes on the ground, he could hear the chuckles and the “oohs” and the smart remarks and the voices raised in hilarity.  He felt painfully awkward.  He had no pockets, nowhere to put his hands.  Not knowing what else to do with them, he took the leg bands of his pants between finger and thumb, which only made him look the more silly.  But he also discovered the rubber was making him sweat, and the insides of the bands were slick.  Quickly he let them snap back onto his legs, hoping the moisture wouldn’t seep out.  He prayed that no-one from his school saw him.  How could he possibly explain…?

Lettie and Lottie led him on towards their first port of call, the vegetable shop.  They seemed to spend an age selecting four leeks, but at least it gave the cashier plenty of time to gawp open-mouthed at their companion, seemingly oblivious to his embarrassment.  Things got worse from there in.  In the mini-supermarket he was elected to carry the basket, while the girls discussed how much milk, what type of rice, and what colour eggs their mother wanted, and the others shoppers stopped, stared, and smiled.  A boy of about Mitch’s age  caught sight of him, did a double-take, and burst into peals of laughter.  Mitch squirmed with embarrassment and annoyance.  As Lottie too was getting impatient, so to calm her Lettie agreed to go next to the sweet shop.  Lettie bought the others bags of sweets, and herself a packet of white chocolate buttons.  Next, the chemist, where the assistant was irritatingly fascinated by Mitch’s new pants, and insisted on dropping on one knee and examining them with professional interest, calling her colleague to come and see too, and treating Mitch as no more than a sort of mannequin.  The colleague was a bit more pleasant however.
“Where did your mummy find those, darling?  They suit you so well.”
“Wasn’t my mummy,” pouted Mitch.  “One of my aunts.  I didn’t want them.”
“Oh, you didn’t?  But they’re so pretty…  I love those little balloons…”
Mitch grimaced.  Lettie sniggered, and popped another chocolate button into her mouth.  What a beautifully humiliating trip this was turning out to be!

Their final stop was the post office, where they had to stand at the end of a queue.  Lettie and Lottie wanted to go and look at the dolls and toys, so they left Mitch to keep their place.  People in front of him were pretending to look idly about, clearly so that could sneak glances at him.  He snorted, and pulled his cap down over his eyes, and tried to make himself invisible.  He was aware of someone joining the queue behind him.  Not so good.  He glanced back to check it wasn’t some kid he knew.  No.  Thank goodness.  He didn’t look at the face, but noted from the clothes it was a young woman.
A moment later he felt a tap on his shoulder.  He froze.
“Mitch?” said a pleasant voice.  He looked round.
“Miss Chambers!”
“I thought it was you.”  Miss Chambers was too discreet and too sensitive to comment on his clothes.  “How are you?”
“F-fine, miss…”  And he added, as a weak attempt at explanation, “er, I’m just keeping my friend’s place in the queue...”
“Oh, I see.  Is that your friend over there, at the toys?”
“Yes.  And her sister.”
“Well, I’m pleased we’ve run into each other.  I’d been wanting to have a word with you about the play.”
“Oh, yes?  The play?”
“You know we’re casting now, and I think I’ve made my decisions.  It has to be done now, because we need to start rehearsals soon.  I was thinking…would you be prepared to play one of the bigger parts?  Do you have the time?”
“Yes, miss.  Of course,” Mitch replied excitedly.  Could she be offering him Romeo?
“Do you think you could play Juliet?”
He stared at her.  “B-but…I thought one of the girls…”
“Well I wouldn’t have asked you, but the fact is, the girls I have to choose from are really rather ordinary-looking.  I need someone with a lively manner, a handsome face, and a good figure.  And someone who can act.  I know you can do that.  Don’t feel pressured.  I understand if you don’t want to play a girl.  And I could easily find you another part…  Mercutio, perhaps?  Or the Prince?”
Mitch hardly needed to think about it.  “No, miss.  I’ll play Juliet.  It’ll be a challenge.”
“Oh, I’m so glad…”
“Who’s playing Romeo?”
“You know Lawrence Lovett?”
Of course he did.  He liked Lawrence.  Liked him a lot, though they weren’t friends.  He was about to congratulate Miss Chambers on her choice, when something happened to distract him.  Lettie had noticed him conversing with a young woman she didn’t recognise.  She imagined it was just someone else complimenting him on his rubber pants, and he seemed to her in this instance to be less humiliated than she would have liked.  So she sneaked up behind him, yanked open the back of his pants, and dropped in a handful of chocolate buttons!
He jumped with surprise, and swung round.  “Agh.  Lettie!  What was that?”
“Thought you might like a few of my buttons, Mitch.”
“You…”  He couldn’t say what he wanted to in front of Miss Chambers.  Instead he was forced to introduce her and Lottie, and soon Lettie was chatting away happily to his teacher, playing the innocent.

Eventually they all got to the front of the queue, and said goodbye to Miss Chambers, Mitch promising to meet her at the first rehearsal the following Tuesday.  When they finally got out of the post office, he unleashed his fury.
“Why did you do that?  In front of Miss Chambers, too!”
“I didn’t know it was your darling Miss Chambers,” returned Lottie.  “I thought it was just another woman you were chatting up.”  She grinned cheekily.  “Are you enjoying the chocolate buttons?”
Mitch glared at her.  The chocolate was already melting.  He could feel it, gooey and slippery, where it was mingling with his sweat, and coating the inside of his pants.  By the time they had walked a hundred yards towards the house, he became aware of  a sliminess between his thighs, which was soon visibly making its way towards his knees.  Angry and uncomfortable, he had to restrain himself from swearing at Lettie again, especially as she, fully aware of his predicament, deliberately dawdled and stopped at any opportunity to look in a shop window or pat a dog.  By the time they did get home, the state of his pants was beginning to excite him despite his efforts, the trickles of whitish gloop had reached his socks, and he was almost weeping with humiliation.  Once inside, he ran upstairs and shut himself in the bathroom, where he allowed his arousal free rein, before manually relieving his frustrations.  The groan he emitted as he flooded the taut, sticky rubber was heard downstairs. 
As he sat on the bathmat recovering, two emotions overwhelmed him.  Hunger, and embarrassment.  His cheeks burned as he remembered running the gauntlet of so many staring children and giggling women.  Surely one or two had recognised him?  Well, there was Miss Chambers, but she was different.  She was kind and intelligent.  Most of the others were like thoughtless children…

He bathed and washed and dried his pants, dressed, and went downstairs.
“Welcome home,” said Tabby, with a mildly ironic smile.  “I hear you had a nice walk.  Did you get yourself some sweets?”
“Yeah, thanks, auntie.”  He always called her “aunt” or “auntie” now.  In his baby outfit he felt like an infant, and he was beginning to behave like one.
“And I gave him some of mine,” sniggered Lettie.
He ignored her.  “We met Miss Chambers.  I’m going to play Juliet in the school play.”
“You are?” said Alice.  “That’s wonderful!  Who’s playing Romeo?”
“A guy called Lawrence.”
“Do you know him?”
“Yeah, sort of.  He’s okay.”
“Will you have to kiss him?” asked Lettie, with one of her best smirks.
“Maybe?  So what?  You have to do lots of things when you’re acting which you would never do in real life,” he countered.  Though in the back of his mind he thought he wouldn’t mind kissing Lawrence anyway.  That is to say, it wouldn’t be something he wanted to do, of course, but it wouldn’t be objectionable.

After supper Lettie got her promised photoshoot, with Lottie holding Mitch's hand to make sure he didn't bottle out.  Lettie knew he would never do anything to upset her.  Then they went back indoors, and  all of them had a conversation about the rest of the weekend. 
“So tomorrow you’ll be at mine, darling,” said Alice.  “My baby Mitch.  But remember it’s Grace’s little get-together in the evening.  She’s asked me to bring you a bit earlier – about six – so you can get changed.”
“Get changed?”
“Yes.  She got a more grown-up outfit, she tells me.  I don’t know what.  But I do know it’ll be something nice.”
“Okay…”
“And you’re to take the red box that was in the carrier bag,” added Tabby.  “Don’t open it, though, will you.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll have to ask Grace that, I’m afraid.”
“And what is “P and S”?”
“That too.”
“Okay…  Auntie Tabby?”
“Yes dear?”
“Do I have to wear my new pants to bed tonight?”
“Of course, dear.  Why wouldn’t you?”  She looked at him rather severely, expecting an argument.  But she was pleasantly surprised when he smiled and said,
“Okay.  I think I’ll go to bed soon.  I’m quite tired after that walk and everything.”

He lay in bed that night, after the girls were asleep, his imagination wandering in and out of dreams and reality, with images of Lawrence’s face, and long, rustling satin dresses, and auntie Alice’s firm breasts, and those mystical letters, P and S; all made vivid by the seductive smell of warm, scented latex.  Reaching down, he explored his erection under the taut rubber, until his thoughts exploded in a shower of stars, and he sank at last into a deep and peaceful slumber…

[Sandra B]

15.
He was at Alice’s front door early the next morning.  Tabby had allowed his to wear his jeans and T-shirt, and to pack his baby clothes back into the pink carrier.
“Come in, sweetie.  Your breakfast is on the table.  Coffee?”
“Yes please, auntie Alice.”
“When you’re being my baby, you should call me “mummy”, you know.”

After breakfast, Alice instructed him to put on his new baby clothes.  He seemed happy to do so.  But then, he was beginning to appreciate the advantages of soft, smooth, flexible latex pants over thick jeans, and of soft angora over a scratchy T-shirt.  He was beginning to appreciate girl things for the first time in his life.
Alice realised the importance of educating him slowly, step by step.  He was allowed to play in the nursery, and she had made sure to mix some boy toys in the with dolls and stuffed animals – trucks and planes and quite intricate models, knowing he had a love of puzzles.  And he was allowed unfettered access to the computer, with all the baby and girls’ clothes pages bookmarked.  While he was scrolling through, he decided he should look up “P & S”.  There were lots of references, but then he came to one which looked a possible, and in going to the home page he discovered a pink background and those familiar letters in gold script.  “P & S”, he read, “everything for the Pacification and Sissification of naughty boys”!  For a moment he was shocked, then offended, and he was even about to jump up and complain to Alice.  But he started scrolling through the products, and instead grew more and more fascinated.  There were so many things.  Just the clothes!  The range was huge.  In the babies section there were little suits in wool and fake fur, with little feet and hoods, so the baby would be beautifully warm and cosy.  He had always imagined something like that.  And the pants!  Plastic and rubber, and rubber shorts in all sorts of colours for bigger boys, with or without frills at the legs.  The sight of them gave him a funny feeling, of anxiety and excitement all tied up together.  There were little rubber dresses and skirts too, of every imaginable style.  And satin, taffeta, everything!  There were dolls, too, “for very naughty boys”, it said.  Some were quite big, with shiny blonde hair and big blue eyes with long lashes, and open mouths, which puzzled him – though he thought he’d quite like to have one.  Then there was a section which he found rather frightening, with lots of pink straps and silver chains and pink rubber balls on straps and some very large strange-shaped pacifiers and a range of pink rubber plugs and some little curved plastic and steel tubes.  He closed the page quickly.  It was better, he thought, he didn’t look at such things.  He knew Alice would never…but Grace?  He didn’t know her very well, after all.  On reflection, he thought his best strategy would be to behave, do what he was told, and then he was sure the ladies would be nice to him.  They were always nice when he did things to please them.  So he resolved to be the very best little boy they could ever ask for.

Alice had installed a lovely big high chair in the kitchen.  He had to climb into it, and then she strapped him in tightly so he couldn’t fall out.  As with everything else, Alice planned to wean him slowly onto regular baby food, by the simple means of pureeing his favourite things.  Pureed eggs with soldiers, pureed pizza, milk or white chocolate spread on fingers of soft white bread, fruit purees with cream and ice cream.  Then, after lunch, he came and lay on her lap on the sofa, with his head resting against her breast.
“There’s my little baby Mitch.  My little baby boy-girl.  Because babies are just babies, aren’t they, and only when they grow up do they become boys or girls.  What would you like to grow up as, Mitch?”
“Don’t know, mummy.  What sort of baby do you want?”
“Well, I don’t mind.  Girls are nice, and usually do what they’re told, and have such pretty clothes.  Boys are nice too, except when they’re bad, and then, sometimes, they need to be disciplined.”
“Disciplined?”
“Yes, you know, occasionally they have to be spanked, but we don’t like to do that any more.  No, now we prefer to pop them into girls’ clothes, or if they been shouty or using bad language we can put a big pacifier in their mouths so they have to be quiet.”
“But don’t they just spit it out?”
“No darling, they can’t.  There are special ones which strap on and they just have to suc-k for as long as it takes them to calm down.”
“Oh.  I think I saw some of those on that P and S website…”
“Oh!  You were looking at that?”
“Yes.  It says P and S on the bag auntie Grace left.”
“Well, I think she likes that place.  So if I were you, I would be a very good little girl for her, otherwise…”  Mitch looked a bit worried, so she changed the subject.  “Did you know, Mitch, when a lady is going to have a baby, her nipples get all sensitive, and her boobies get full of milk?”
Mitch stiffened, his eyes widened and he coloured up.
“M-maybe…”
“Well they do.  Perhaps when my milk comes in, I’ll let you have some.  Would you like that?”
Mitch now looked positively alarmed.  He had never even considered such a thing.  “I-I…don't know...”
“Would you?  Sometimes a mother produces too much milk for her baby.  Then she may be grateful for a little help getting rid of the excess…”
Mitch gulped.  Was she serious?  Alice was amused to see the effect her words were having.
“Or she may prefer to bottle-feed her baby.  Then there’d be lots of milk available…  Tell you what.  I’ll give you a bottle now.  Get you used to the nipple.  You can imagine it’s mine, if you like.”
She extricated herself, fetched a feeding bottle with a decent-sized teat, and filled it with warm formula.  When she returned to the sofa Mitch was sitting bolt upright looking slightly apprehensive.  Alice sat down, pulled him back onto her lap, put her left arm round him, and introduced the teat to his lips.
“Now, relax, darling.  Sometimes babies may be reluctant to latch on.  Then we do this.”  She squeezed a drop of milk out of the bottle, and stroked the teat back and forth on Mitch’s lips.  Immediately, and almost involuntarily, he took the teat in his mouth and began to feed.  It took only a couple of minutes before he began to relax, and as he did so he thought about what Alice had said, and wondered if she were serious.  His head was pressed against her breast, and as he imagined what it would be like to feed from that instead of a bottle, he gripped the teat tighter between his teeth, drawing forth a spurt of milk.  He closed his eyes.  He could feel himself becoming aroused, but he didn’t care.  Alice smiled to see the little bulge of his stiffening sausage beginning to stretch the pink latex, and knew she had scored a hit.  At last she really believed that, in whatever direction Grace and the others decided to lead him, Mitch the baby was here to stay, both for her own enjoyment and that of Tabby’s girls.  She reclined on the sofa, and watched him feeding, eyes closed in contentment.  And in a few hours it would be Grace’s party.  She wondered what lay in store for him there…

[Shortyshorts]

Oh my this is getting just delicious.

Being turned into a little girl, and a baby, by different people, at the same time. No wonder Mitch is confused.

I think we all know what role he's going to be playing... except Mitch that is. :)

Please keep going.

[lovellace]

This is really wonderful writing. I love the P&S products idea. Some tight latex shorts with an inbuilt tube or plug would be a delightful detail. Tight shiny and pink!