Pink Panties

[billykins]

Sissyboy - thank you - such empathy from the Master is indeed humbling.  I shall not cease from mental fight, however desperate his plight - to paraphrase WB :)

[kj777]

Billykins, Thank you can't wait to see what happens.

[gunrunner]

Please, more!

[billykins]

55.
The girls tumbled into the street and swarmed round the corner to the baby window, Patricia and Sinead  acting as sheep-dogs.
“Girls!  Keep your hands of the glass, please!” shouted Patricia.  “Susan’s just had it cleaned.”
After the relative shade of the shop, Archie blinked in the sunlight flooding in through the plate glass.  The first thing he registered was the girls dancing and waving at him from outside, though he could hear their voices only faintly through the double glazing.  He looked around him.  He had stumbled into a baby’s paradise – or a boy’s hell.  It was a long window space.  The floor was carpeted with some sort of soft pink fabric, the back wall was lined with fabrics also in varying shades of pink, there was a white wooden cot at one end, painted with pink hearts and with various pink and white distractions suspended above it, and three tiers of carry-cots at the other.  In between were all the things a baby was supposed to need when it wasn’t sleeping.  There were high chairs, plastic picnic cloths, plastic plates, bowls and cutlery, and plastic bibs.  There was a range of feeding-bottles with different sized teats, the bigger ones filled with various juices, and a board hung with pacifiers of all shapes and sizes.  Jars and jars of special baby foods – which only served to remind him how hungry he was.  Then there was a display of rubber and plastic baby pants that made him shudder, packs of pull-ups and nappies, and all the paraphernalia of baby-changing – creams and oils and bath foam and powders and sponges.  On the back wall there were baby-vests and leggings and bootees.  Balloons and pacifiers hung on threads from the ceiling.  In the middle of the display were lots of baby toys: balls of various sizes, soft toys of all descriptions, dolls, brightly-painted wooden blocks, plastic puzzles for parents to assess their baby’s degree of genius, wooden frames with holes and pegs accompanied by little wooden hammers, that no sane parent would ever give a child of any age; animals, ranging from just-too-big-to-swallow pigs to a yellow rocking-horse.  In the middle of the window was a very large, padded vinyl changing mat – designed for twins, perhaps.  Archie sat down on it in the midst of  this Aladdin’s Cave of assorted baby junk - and suc-ked his thumb.  It wasn’t entirely his own idea; Susan was issuing instructions through a small aperture behind a baby vest.
“Don’t just sit there – suc-k your thumb or something.”
He could see the girls laughing, but a couple of women that had stopped to stare nudged each other, obviously thinking how cute it was.
“Okay, now look around you.  Notice the pacifiers.  Crawl over, take the biggest one, and pop it in.  Go on, Archie!  Look, more people are arriving.  They want to see an active baby!  And don’t sulk, please – it’s not nice.”
Archie crawled over to the pacifier display.  A whole display, just of pacifiers!  Insane!  This baby thing was almost a cult.  He looked over them.  Most were pretty average, but the bottom row were huge, like the one he’d had pinned to his long baby vest.  She must mean to take one of them. 
“Yes, Archie – one of the big ones – go on – one of the specials.”
Archie frowned.  The “specials”?  Well, they’d be much too big for a regular baby…
“Well suc-k it, then…”
He popped it in.  It was flavoured!  It tasted like…white chocolate cheesecake!  Yummy!  He looked around.  Some of those baby pants looked very large too…  And the pull-ups…  They mostly had T-numbers and weights for sizes, but one, he noticed, had a picture of a young lady on the side – and she was suc-king a big pink pacifier!  There was more to this shop than met the eye.  Lots of things were marked “larger sizes available”, and the cot had a notice saying “single-bed size on request”.

Megan had joined the girls outside, and Archie could see her and the older girls peering at the things in the window with interest.
“It looks like they cater for all ages,” remarked Sinead.  “Don’t you think?”
“Well I suppose there must be a demand,” agreed Megan, albeit with raised eyebrows.  “I mean I wanted stuff for Archie, so… “
Susan joined them. 
“I’m so grateful to you for allowing Archie to do this.  When you appeared in the shop it was like the answer to my prayers.  And he makes such a great baby.  Look at him!”
Archie had decided it wasn’t so bad after all.  He was beginning to enter into the spirit of the thing, in the way that boys do when they have an audience and they’re in the mood to be silly.  He lay on him tummy, suc-king alternately at his dummy and a big bottle of juice.  Then he put down the bottle, picked up a tub of cream, and stuck one finger into it.  He pulled it out, looked at it for a moment as if considering whether he should taste it, then wiped it on his vest and gave his audience a mischievous grin.
“So Susan,” began Megan, “we saw you have a lot of larger sizes…”
“Oh, you noticed…  Yes, well, I used just to stock ordinary baby things, but I got asked for larger, even adult sizes, so often that I diversified.  I noticed you’d found some things to fit Archie…”
“Yes.  I got most online.  But now I know you’re here…”
“Oh, please do.  I have other things too, which aren’t on display.  Does Archie like dressing up as a baby?”
Sinead laughed.  “No, he doesn’t.  Not really.  We…er, persuaded him…”
“But can’t we persuade him again?” suggested Patricia.  “Wouldn’t it be fun to have our own little baby to play with?”
“You should,” said Susan, enthusiastically.  She lowered her voice.  “I have several customers who dress their boys up as babies some of the time.  It’s amazing how it calms them down.  If I had my way all boys would stay as babies until they learned how to behave nicely – however long it took!”
“I think that’s a most laudable view, Susan,” said Megan sternly.  “Boys can be so unruly.  Thank goodness I didn’t have one.  Yes, I would have all of them back in baby clothes from the age of eleven until…well, until they learned some manners.”
Megan and Susan were clearly of one mind.
“I’ll let you into a little secret,” said Susan, lowering her voice.  “There’s a club in town –  Brenda’s Babies.  It’s for mothers with difficult boys.  Brenda’s a friend of mine.  It was her idea in the first place.  She came to me one day asking if I stocked boy-sized baby pants, and it developed from there.  There’s three boys now, teenagers or pre-teens.  The mothers meet once a week, usually on Sundays, and compete to see which baby has the cutest outfit, or which boy plays at being a baby the best.  I’ve attended one meeting.  It’s great fun, as well as being really good for the boys’ general behaviour.”
Megan was startled.  “But…how on earth did the mothers talk their sons into it?  Especially if they’re badly behaved in the first place…”
“Oh, no, they wouldn’t do it willingly.  They all have secrets that they’d do anything to avoid their friends finding out.  That’s what makes it so amusing.”  She glanced at Archie, who was entertaining himself stuffing a balloon into a pair of plastic pants.  “If you like I can introduce you…”
“Why don’t I ask mum?” said Sinead, excited.  “I’m sure she’d agree.  When he was misbehaving she always used to go on about what a cute baby he was.  “How can such a sweet little baby turn into this horrid monster?” she used to say.”
Susan turned to the window.  “Well, he certainly seems to be enjoying himself at the moment.  I’m a bit surprised, to be honest…”
“It’s the audience,” laughed Sinead.  “He a suc-ker for attention – a natural show-off!”
“It’s true,” cried Sarah, joining into the conversation.  “At Irish dancing he’s only happy when he thinks everyone’s looking at him!  That’s why he loves wearing his silly leotard and trying to outdo Conor all the time.”
“Interesting…” mused Susan.  “I think he’d be perfect for Brenda.  They even have regular photo shoots.  She’s got a huge album of photos…”
“Really?” said Megan.
“Oh yes.  She meets each boy separately before they join the group, with the mother.  Has a little chat.  Says she has an agency, providing child actors for adverts, and so on.  Flatters them about their looks and natural talents.  The mothers have been prepped to demur – “darling, I don’t think the acting world would be good for you…lots of bad people…temptations…girls…money’s not everything…” etc., etc.  Clever, eh?  Before they know it, they’re posing and showing off and doing the most ridiculous things in front of the camera.  Once she’s got a nice embarrassing collection she sits them down to watch their performances.  Only then does it dawn on them that they’ve been well and truly snared.  There’s no way back.  From then on they dance to her tune.  So far it’s babies, but she tells me she’s thinking of moving into feminisation…”
“Archie would fall for that, no probs!” cried Sarah.
“Shh, Sarah…”  Patricia put a finger to her lips.
“I’m going to talk to mum,” said Sinead, firmly.  “That sounds perfect for Archie.  One more day he couldn’t get into mischief.  Does Brenda charge for this?”
“No – she does it for love.  All his mum would need to pay for is the outfits…  And she could participate if she wanted – so could any of you.  The more the merrier at those little parties…”

[billykins]

56.
Blissfully unaware of the plans being made for him, Archie was playing up to the growing crowd outside the window.  He had allayed any fears that someone might recognise him by the simple expedient of pulling a pair of plastic pants over his head, his ears sticking out of the leg holes.  They were transparent enough for him to see through, albeit mistily.  Revelling in his anonymity, he could see no reason not to be naughty.  He started doing a clumsy little dance, making his new bunches bounce up and down, turning around and around, and sticking his bottom out at the audience every time he had his back to them. 
“He’s so rude!” cried Millie.  “And he’s being really silly!  Mummy – tell him to stop doing that!”
“I don’t think so, dear.  Let’s just let him make a fool of himself, shall we?”
“But…  Look at him now!”
Archie was facing the window now.  He had decided that, as escape was impossible for the time being, he would overturn the grown-ups’ plans completely.  They had been hoping to humiliate him, to watch him squirming  with embarrassment and shyness.  Instead he was going to behave so outrageously that they would be the ones to be embarrassed.  He began by putting one pacifier after another in his mouth, and spitting them across the window.  He smeared more cream onto his vest.  He catapulted rubber pants into the air.  He pulled one leg hole aside and peered out of the window, to check their reaction.. Everyone was laughing, Megan and Susan included.
“What do you think he’ll he do next?” asked Megan
“I don’t know.  Let’s wait and see.”
“Everyone’s filming.  Including that lady from the paper.”
“Any publicity is good publicity…” murmured Susan.
Archie frowned.  That wasn’t the reaction he wanted.  So he picked up the biggest bottle of juice and took a good swig.  Then he turned it upside down and pushed it down the front of his pull-up, squeezing it until the cool juice spurted into his pull-up.
“Mith!” he cried, holding the bottle with one hand and clutching his crotch with the other.  “Mith!  I’m doin’ a big wee!  My pull-upth gettin’ all thoggy!”
The audience loved it.  But Susan wasn’t amused.
“Now he’s going too far,” she said – and she turned and walked quickly back into the shop.
“Trish?  I need a hand with this baby.”
“Coming…  What’s he getting up to out there?  I could hear laughter.”
“Get the changing bag.  I’ll show him…”

Trish disappeared from behind the counter, then reappeared with a big quilted pink bag.  Susan unbolted the window door, and stepped in.  Archie swung round, still giggling behind his baby-pants mask.  He wasn’t giggling for long.  Susan pulled the bottle out of his waistband.  She was a strong woman, and she lifted him up bodily and lay him face down on the changing map.  She put a knee across his back, and while Trish held his legs to stop him kicking, she put on a pair of rubber gloves, then pulled off his pants and his wet pull-up.  Trish handed her wipes, and she quickly dealt with his bare bottom and upper legs.
“Thtop it!  I don’t need changin’ mith.  I was jutht joking, thee?  Not ‘ere, pleath…”
“Sorry, Archie, can’t hear you with those pants over your head.  Here…”
She reached up, yanked them off, and tossed them aside.
“No!” 
“Open his legs please Trish…”
The insides of his thighs and his genitals were sticky with juice.  It took several wipes to get everything cleaned up.  Trish squeezed a dollop of baby lotion into Susan’s hand, and she smoothed it onto his skin.  After a moment Trish leant forward.
“Sue…  Is he getting…you know?”
“Why, the little rascal!  Yes, he is, isn’t he?  Well that’s his fault!  We’ll have to turn him over, whatever…   Ready?”
While Sue rolled him, Trish transposed his ankles, and in a flash Archie found himself on his back, his little willy quivering in the air. 
“No!”  he screamed.  But too late.  He heard a communal gasp from outside.  He turned his head towards the window to see if people were still looking.  To his horror he beheld a sea of eager faces, and at the same time twenty cameras clicked, catching him full-face in all his (modest) glory.
Outside, the girls screamed with delight.  Megan chuckled.
“Almost two inches I would say, and all boy!  It’s not just a flower-bud after all!”
Susan ignored his protests and his struggles.
“I’m sorry, Archie, but this has to be done.  You’ve made a real mess of yourself, haven’t you?”
She wiped him over, and then applied more lotion, first across the smooth plain of his tummy, and then, with a few deft strokes of her closed fingers, up the shaft of his little erect willy, like a very small pink gherkin.  He was silent now, his face turned away from the window, his cheeks burning.  Susan smiled.
“There.  Nearly done.  Trish…?  See that pacifier on a pink ribbon just behind you?”
“Yes…  Do you want it?”
“Only the ribbon.  There’s some scissors in the bag…”
“Okay…  Here you go…” 
“Thank you.”
She took the short length of ribbon, and tied it in a pretty bow around the bottom of  Archie’s willy – to the great delight of the onlookers. 
“There!  Pretty baby!”
Then she and Trish selected a particularly cute pair of girl’s latex pants, pale pink with tiny rainbows and unicorns, put them over his ankles and pulled them up.  They weren't that big, and Archie's little tentpole stretched them taut.
“No more pull-ups for you, young man, if you’re going to play such naughty tricks!  You'll have to make do with these till you get home.  Now, will you stay in the window, or are you going to...”
But Archie was already climbing out into the shop.

[gunrunner]

Thank you for the update.

[gunrunner]

Please, Pretty Please.