12. AND INTO THE FIRE
"I'm sorry I feel very uncomfortable calling him David whilst he looks like this. You don't mind if I call him Daisy do you? He really should have a girl's name; he can hardly be considered a boy anymore, not while he is presenting himself so femininely dressed."
Daisy was back to dancing from foot to foot with a desperate desire to be away from this woman who was only fishing for gossip to spread around and his mother was feeding her far too much, and all of it a pack of lies.
"Daisy will you stop fussing and be patient Mommy is talking you just concentrate on looking pretty for the boys there's nothing wrong with batting your eyelashes and a little flirting with them but when it comes to flouncing your petticoats do try not to show off more of your panties than you are already. We don't want you earning an improper reputation as a coc-k tease, there's a good little girl." Automatically he turned to see for himself what he was showing but he could see nothing beyond the flare of his bonnet's brim except skirts billowing out over his inconvenient and already much hated petticoats.
"I've just been admiring his legs they're so long and shapely, quite girlish in fact now that he's taken to wearing tights I think it’s a very bold move on Daisy's part only a true sissy would want to be seen wearing tights like a real girl. They're such intimately feminine things. His dress allows him to show them off wonderfully and yet they still manage to look remarkably juvenile at the same time adorned with his choice of socks and shoes, though positively delightful, are distinctly for toddlers aren't they? I'd love to buy a pair socks like those for my Rosemary but I think they're probably a little to childish for her but they're just exquisite for a would be 2 year old like Daisy I bet she feels like a real princess in them." Daisy's mother offered up a faux smile, she'd had about enough of Irene's snide remarks and cutting insults about her son.
And yet she allowed the woman to take a series of photographs to record every feature of Daisy's outfit Irene didn't want to miss a thing. She didn't want to disappoint the ladies of her coffee circle who she knew would want all the details of this new and startling juicy gossip. Maybe she could get Daisy to attend in his pretty outfit and play the maid, or perhaps she could get him to wear a tutu instead just like a real fairy. Now that would be a coup!
She forcefully but politely bustled Daisy's mother out of the way whilst she had Daisy stand in various poses and using every kawaii technique she could recall from conversations with her daughter, that highlighted Daisy's youthful innocence as she was manipulated into flirting with the camera. His mother released the mouth shield from his pacifier to reveal his painted lips. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. "Oh my goodness he's even wearing lipstick" cried a delighted Irene.
They weren't professional photos by any means but they would be spectacular enough for her coffee circle to distribute amongst their cronies when they had nothing to do but spread malicious gossip. Irene felt all warm and cosy inside and had a huge invisible grin on her face.
Irene continued her exploration of Daisy by pushing her hands under her petticoats and lifting them up high."Oh my, would you just look at those panties" she exclaimed. "You must be the envy of every girl in the mall wearing panties as frilly and feminine as those how wonderfully emasculating for you, absolutely delightful. I just can't imagine a real boy wanting to be caught dead wearing lingerie that lavish. You truly are a sissy aren't you Daisy. I must have a picture for my Rosemary; she's just not going to believe you like to wear panties as frilly as those or lipstick without a photo to prove it. They're a breathtaking expression of your femininity Daisy don’t you just love being petty and oh so girlie in your new dress? And when you said he was back in nappies I had no idea you meant so many and the crackle of her rubber panties just adds the perfect finishing touch to the new image she's creating for herself, wouldn't you agree?"
"Here allow me." And his mother held his skirt and petticoats up so Mrs. Craddock could get a picture of his spectacular panties She was astonished, she hadn't realised just how glorious they were, covered in three dozen rows of densely packed and heavily gathered lace edged ruffles, from his sternum to his crotch and as many again all the way up his back decorated with satin roses smaller than the nail of his pinkie finger and tiny ribbon bows, David felt truly ashamed and humiliated at having them put on such open display for all to see but he was powerless to stop them.
Others took advantage of the impromptu photo shoot and his exhibitionist behaviour and took their own photos of his antics as he was posed for photos by Mrs. Craddock. Calls came from every quarter for him to take his hand from his muff so much so his mother was forced to temporarily release his elbows from their restraints.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd as his hands popped free from his muff and he revealed his quilt stitched leather Helpless Hands safety mittens with their huge fur cuffs his hands were snugly imprisoned inside.
And the inquisitive Irene insisted on snapping picture after picture of the 'dear little thing' on her mobile phone and sending them to her daughter. His mother was slightly perturbed by her 'friend's' behaviour but chose to take no action on her son's behalf even knowing the both Irene and her daughter were notorious gossips.
David was less excited at having his photo taken and tried to protest but with a mouthful of that hideous pen-is shaped pneumatic monster of a pacifier that had been inflated to the maximum his oral cavity could contain it wasn't easy making himself understood. In his eagerness to convey his disapproval all attempts at carefully enunciating his words was lost "Nnnmmmpp hhhmph," he said, followed by a breathy "ananeughphah."
"I didn't understand a single word of that" said Irene with a huge smile on her face.
"I think what he was trying to do was remind me of the professional studio photographs we had taken earlier today that he'd love to share with you and Rosemary. I'll just send them across to you now."
"What did she think she was doing? They're sure to go viral within minutes of Rosemary getting her grubby hands on them." He huffed into his pacifier again.
This was David's first real verbal encounter since his pacifier had been fitted and he was failing miserably. He hadn't realised just how compromised his speech was until now. No matter how much care he put into his enunciation the results were the same. He just couldn't form any coherent words with that fat pneumatic bung inflated in his mouth and no matter how hard he tried he could not evict it. He sounded just like a baby with his gurgles and slurps and inane sounds. If it walks like a sissy and sounds like a sissy it is a sissy, came to mind.
When what he was actually trying to express was his displeasure at having his photograph taken in the first place and secondly at sharing it with others against his wishes. To emphasise the point he shook his clench fist at her, or would have done if he were able to form a fist at all. But a hand that was encased in a padded satin over mitten with a double thickness of velvety soft winter weight fleece padding over which he wore a pair of Helpless Hands padded leather mittens with a large fur cuff around his wrist took most of the sting out of his rebuff, but the fur muff in which his mittened hands and the entirety of his forearms were entrapped dissolved the potentially threatening situation, transforming it instead into one of charming childish glee as he shook his muff up and down which was the only gesture available to him and served to express a whole gamut of emotions.
David was furious at his mother, yet he could say nothing and was powerless to stop her. It was all he could do to stand there making stupid noises and endure. Right now he was nothing more than a dress up doll for her to play with. A puppet on a string to dance to her tune, trapped helpless against her whims. He felt a deep sense of betrayal but he was dependent on her for his safety and for taking him home. Whist she had hold of his walker reins there would be no escape for him, he couldn't outrun her, and even if he did break away he doubted he would survive the utter humiliations of his journey home on foot alone only to be the recipient of her wrath when she herself returned to find him waiting on the doorstep unable to even gain entry to the house because he was so heavily incapacitated. He couldn't even call out for help. Even if he could he probably wouldn’t, fearing the sort of attention he might attract.
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Topic: A Sissy is Born (Read 41479 times)
