Author Topic: The Diversity (2010) Act (Read 24376 times)

DaraJaney · « **on:** November 29, 2010, 06:17:09 PM »

Within weeks of the new law being passed, inspectors were sent out and about to start the registration process. The state was finally giving full recognition to diversity and anyone who wished to declare themselves as gay, lesbian, bisexual or trans-sexual for example would be properly registered and all offices of the state would have to recognise their status. There were also a few lesser known aspects of the legislation.

Ms. Gilbert arrived at the Harper residence as arranged. Mrs. Harper showed her in to the living room: “You are very welcome.” “Thank you, this process shouldn’t take long. We just need to satisfy ourselves that your son, Victor, is really a Sissy before we register him as such.” “He’s up in his room”, Mrs. Harper told her, standing to show her the way.

They walked into Victor’s bedroom. It was a long time since Ms. Gilbert had seen such a girlish room. Everything was pink and white and dripping with lace - the bedspread, carpet, curtains. Her own 10 year-old daughter wouldn’t be seen dead in a room like it.

Victor was sitting demurely on the edge of his bed. He wore a pink satin dress with thick lace trim around the neckline, hem and the end of the puffed sleeves. Several layers of lace-trimmed organza petticoats rested on his knees. He wore pink tights with white ankle socks with a pink lace trim and black t-bar shoes with a two-inch heel.

He looked up from his sowing. His tightly pressed ringlets dangled at the side of his face from the thick pink ribbons that tied them in two bunches either side.

He quickly put aside the frilly lilac dress that he was mending and stood up. Ms. Harper could see now just how short his pink dress was, especially pushed out with all those layers of petticoats.

Victor took his petticoats in his hands on either side, raised his skirts and curtsied as he was well trained to do when any visitor arrived. To fail in this or in any other way give the impression of being anything other than an absolute sissy would earn him punishment.

Ms. Harper thought she glimpsed pink lace panties as he raised his skirts but thought, no, not unless he was wearing pettipants with a good length of leg.

“Show us the pretty dress you are mending dear”, his mother asked him. He turned to pick the dress up off the bed. Ms. Harper saw that he was indeed wearing pink pettipants.

Victor held out the lace trim that had come away from the dress and showed how he was sowing it back in place. He was clearly well practiced. “He hopes to be able to wear it to church on Sunday”, his mother explained. Ms. Harper couldn’t help but notice the gloomy look that spread over Victor’s face as he contemplated wearing the dress in front of the whole town.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #1 on:** December 02, 2010, 01:32:15 PM »

“Victor, show Ms. Harper your other dresses.” “Yes mother”, he replied exercising another curtsey. He minced over to the wardrobe and opened the double doors. There were half a dozen dresses of every pretty shade hanging there. At one end there were two pettislips with heavily packed and flared petticoats. At the other end were lacey blouses and pleated plaid skirts.

Victor was then told to open his chest of drawers. Ms. Harper examined the slips, camisoles, suspender belts, lace-toped stockings, over-the-knee stockings with bows at the top, frilly ankle socks, panties, pettipants and bloomers.

“So how long as he been in dresses?” she asked. His mother looked towards him, clearly expecting him to answer. “Six months”, he muttered. “And no problems?” she asked giving him an opening to complain. Victor looked warily at his mother. “No”, he mumbled, knowing the consequences of complaining.

“Right”, Ms Harper said taking out a form. “There will be no problem having him officially registered as a Sissy so.” Victor looked up in shock. What did this mean?

Ms. Harper started filling out the very official looking form. “Name, for purposes of registration?” “Vicky”, his mother interjected. Victor looked worried.

Ms. Harper filled out a few other columns. The form had one of those hologram squares to prevent forging. She took out a bar-code reader which flashed over the page and beeped. “OK, our sissy’s details have been automatically uploaded onto the state databases and his previous record deleted.” Victor was growing increasingly concerned.

Ms. Harper took what looked like a necklace from her bag. She reached up under Victor’s ringlets around his neck. He heard a click. “There! Now that can only be removed by appropriate authorities.” Victor looked in the mirror. The silver necklace spelt “S-I-S-S-Y” across his throat.

Ms. Harper handed his mother the form. “Now just show this to anybody who questions his status as a sissy and it will prove to them that he can be kept in frilly dresses and sissy clothes at your pleasure.” Victor looked at the form in horror.

“Now there are many benefits to his official designation”, Ms. Harper continued to explain. She reached into her bag again and took out a brochure. “You can purchase specially discounted clothes for the sissy.” She handed it to his mother. Victor looked on with concern as she leafed through it.

“There are all sorts of dresses – frilly, very frilly or superfrilly. In fact, the superfrilly dresses are cheaper – it’s an economy-of-scales thing – we don’t get many orders for the ordinary frilly dresses. Each dress can come in all sorts of colours – pink, apricot, peach, lemon, cerise, baby pink, baby blue. There is a special bulk discount for ordering 12 designs. Each dress comes with matching panties or pettipants or bloomers – they come as a package, you can’t order the dress without the panties – sorry about that.

Then there are petticoats and pettislips. Let me see, ah yes, seven layers are the smallest or you can have them more full. I’ll leave the brochure with you.”

DaraJaney · « **Reply #2 on:** December 05, 2010, 01:49:04 PM »

“Then there are the medical procedures.” Victor looked up in shock. “Permanent make-up, botox to make voluptuous lips – these all come free.” “Really?” Victor’s mum was very interested.

“Now do you have his old clothes for us to take away?” Victor looked anxiously to his mother. “Yes, they’re locked in boxes in the back room. Victor would you bring them down please?”

Victor’s eyes moistened as he walked tentatively towards the boxes containing his old boy’s clothes. He took his time about lifting a box and bringing it downstairs, hoping for some change of mind. His mother opened the front door. He walked out carrying a box. The wind whipped his short dress about but with his hands full there was nothing he could do. Ms. Harper opened the hatchback. He had little choice but to bend over and drop the box in, giving a full view of his pink frilly pettipants to anybody who happened to be passing.

He brought out the other four boxes. “That’s fine”, Ms Harper said. “We will see that they go to deserving boys – or girls, in fact – they all want to wear trousers now.”

“Bye, bye Vicky” she waved. “I’m sure you’ll be so happy now that you are officially registered as the Sissy you really are and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.” Victor clutched his petticoats as she sped away and he fingered the necklace.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #3 on:** December 07, 2010, 03:40:12 PM »

Ms. Harper’s next visit was only a couple of streets away – at the Dawson’s. She was shown into the nursery. 16-year-old Todd sat in his play-pen in a floral print dress, flared from the breast. His arms rested on the layers of petticoats that kept his dress fluffed up. He had to turn his head at a right angle to see Ms. Harper as his matching bonnet had a broad brim that restricted his view to directly in front.

His hands were in padded mittens, strapped at the wrist and he was just about able to pick up a letter block between both hands. He leant over to put it on top of another block. His short baby dress rode up to reveal frilled panties that stretched over a thick cotton nappy. He sat back after that exertion and looked up at Ms. Harper again. He suc-ked on the big pink soother that filled his mouth.

Todd knew that if he gave the appearance of a contented baby girl to a visitor, he would be rewarded with some chocolate ice cream after lunch. If he looked in any way grumpy about being kept in nappies and baby dresses for two years now, it would be cod liver oil and mashed vegetables soaked in prune juice. Ms. Harper was pleased to see what appeared to be a happy Sissy Baby.

She looked around the well-equipped nursery. The bars on Todd’s play-pen and cot were high enough to keep him in. There was a high-chair with straps and a rocking horse in the bay window.

“Nap time!” Todd’s mother called out. She let him out of the play-pen and he waddled over to the cot and climbed in. She raised the side bars and they clicked into place.

“OK”, Ms. Harper said. “I have the forms here to register Todd as a Sissy Baby.” “Hmmfffngg?” Todd got up on his knees and clutched the bars of his cot as best he could with the padded mittens. “Once this is done, nobody will be able to stop you keeping him as a Sissy Baby Girl.” “HHHMMNNNGGG!”

Todd shook the bars desperately. He looked through the bars at the official form as she filled it out. Then the bar code reader beeped. Ms. Harper placed the necklace on him and locked it in place. He looked through the bars at the mirror and saw the lettering “BABY TODD”.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #4 on:** December 10, 2010, 05:10:00 PM »

“Now we can arrange regression therapy if you like”, she told his mum. “Hmmppff?” She handed his mum a leaflet. “It’s a mix of audio tapes and light drugs you can mix into his bottles. Within a few weeks he will think he’s a real baby and will be quite unaware that he’s actually a teenage boy.”

“HHMMNNGGG!” Todd shook the bars again. If they reduced his mind to that of a baby, would he ever come out of it? He wouldn’t be able to plead with his mother or do anything to get out of his predicament. He would be totally at their mercy. He might be in nappies and baby dresses for the rest of his life!

“I’m not sure I want that”, his mother said. Todd relaxed a little. “So you prefer him to be fully aware that he is being kept as a sissy baby in nappies and baby dresses all along”, Ms. Harper confirmed. Todd frowned. It didn’t sound any better when it was put like that! As long as he was kept in mittens and within the nursery there was nothing he could do anyway. His mother could keep him in nappies as long as she wanted. He needed them now anyway having lost all control. Was it better to be blissfully unaware of it?

“There are lots of things you get free from the state now that he is officially designated as a sissy baby. We provide free nappies – though only double thickness cotton nappies.” She took out another brochure. “There are a range of plastic pants with various frilly designs. Lots of sets of baby dresses, bonnets and matching panties. Tights come in large sizes to stretch over the thick nappies. There are discounts on nursery furniture.” With each item she explained how baby is securely kept within.

“You can get grants to install a sink and built-in changing table here in the nursery. We can install concrete ramps at your doors front and back for wheeling baby in and out in his stroller. You can get a swing to install in your front garden in a permanent concrete base. Baby can be strapped into the swing so that he comes to no harm.”

“Here is a leaflet listing all the baby sitters in the locality – mostly schoolgirls trying to earn a few extra pounds. All have expressed a particular eagerness to work with sissy babies.”

DaraJaney · « **Reply #5 on:** January 11, 2011, 05:13:22 PM »

Ms. Harper looked around the door searching for the house number. She wasn’t sure it was the right place. These big mansions never have their numbers prominent. She rang the bell anyway.

She heard high heels clattering quickly on the wooden floor within. The door was opened by a maid dressed in a very short French maid-type dress with several layers of petticoats underneath making it flare widely. She was clearly in the right place.

The maid’s flared skirts contrasted sharply with a very narrow waist beneath the tight fitting bodice. Ms Harper could just see the impression of the bones of the corset underneath.

“May I speak with Mrs. Hardwick please?” The maid curtsied and then tottered back a few steps in six-inch heels. “Please follow me.” Ms. Harper entered and the maid closed the door behind her and then scampered with the tiny steps that the heels allowed towards another door. “My Mistress is in the drawing room.”

As the maid walked the petticoats fluttered and rocked back and forth revealing lace-top black stockings attached to suspender straps that had little pink bows on the button. The door opened and the maid walked in, curtsied and with head bowed said “A lady to see you Mistress.”

Ms Harper walked in. “Bring us some tea, Polly”, the Mistress instructed the maid, who curtsied and backed out the door with head still bowed. “Yes Mistress.”

“I take it that is your husband”, Ms Harper observed. Mrs. Hardwick gave a scornful laugh. “Used to be anyway. He makes such a delightful maid though.” “What measurement is his waist?” Ms Harper asked. “Down to 20 inches now and I’m sure I can get him to 16. I have a machine that pulls his corset strings to the measurement I set and brooks no complaint! I keep him in the corset from 6am to 10pm every day without exception and draw it in an extra quarter inch each week. He can’t bend over of course so it makes his chores quite difficult too. He can’t even take off his high heels so he is in the six inch heels 16 hours a day too regardless of any complaining.”

The door opened. Polly bent over slightly to pick the tray off the table outside. Ms Harper got a glimpse of his pink frilly panties. It was a real struggle for him to balance in his six inch heels and carry the tray of cups. He winced as he tried to bend enough to place the tray on the coffee table. With his back to Ms. Harper, she got a much better view of the rows of lace on his panties.

Polly curtsied, retreated to the corner with his head bowed and stood there. Occasionally he lifted a foot and tried to flex it a little and relieve the pain of standing in six-inch heels.

“So once I make the entry, he will cease to be your husband and will become your indentured maid”, Ms Harper explained. Polly went to look up but thought the better of it.

“All of his accounts will be closed and the money transferred to you. His employment and social welfare records will be deleted so he will cease to exist as far as the Government is concerned and will be unable to take up any work or claim any benefits. You will be his official Mistress and all decisions about his life will be made by you and only you.” She heard a sniffle from the bowed head in the corner. He was clearly well subdued and made no attempt to protest. He just shuffled from one foot to the other again.

Ms Harper picked up her bar code reader and there was a beep. “There, it’s done and cannot be undone.” There were further sniffles from the corner. “Can I see where you keep him when he’s not needed?”

Mrs Hardwick showed her from the room and they went to the kitchen with Polly attempting to keep up in his heels. She opened the broom cupboard. There was a row of hooks on the back wall. From these hung a brush and a mop on the left side and a dust pan and bucket on the right side. The middle hook was free and half way down below it were cuffs and near the ground were shackles.

Polly shuffled into the cupboard and stood in front of the hook. Mrs. Hardwick took his chain-link necklace and locked it to the hook with a little padlock. Then she locked the cuffs around his wrists behind his back and snapped the shackles around his ankles.

She took a ball gag, slipped it into his mouth and buckled the strap behind his head. She stood back and rechecked everything. Polly shuffled his feet the few millimetres allowed by the shackles and his necklace and cuffs drew tight.

Mrs. Hardwick closed the door. “You must come and see the garden.” The two ladies took a leisurely stroll around the garden and came back into the kitchen. The cook went to the cupboard while they were there.

Polly looked up and blinked in the bright light. He moved forward just perceptibly and his necklace, cuffs and shackles all held him tight. The cook didn’t even look at him and he watched disappointedly as she selected the mop. There was a little whimper from behind the ball gag as she closed the door.

“I won’t need Polly again until this evening”, Mrs. Hardwick told the cook who then put a padlock on the cupboard door.

Mrs. Hardwick invited Ms. Harper to stay for evening meal. Later when they walked though the hallway Mrs. Hardwick observed that it could do with a clean.

She went down to the kitchen and unlocked the cupboard. Polly had to turn his head as far as he could to avoid the glare, having been in the dark for so long. He had no idea how long but thought it must be the middle of the night until she opened the door.

“The hall floor needs cleaning”, she announced. Polly looked positively excited at the prospect. She took the bucket first and he watched anxiously awaiting his release. She went over to the sink and filled the bucket first though.

Eventually she unbuckled the ball gag and he breathed in gratefully. She unlocked his necklace and then his wrists. He rubbed his wrists as she unlocked his shackles. He winced as he took a tiny step forward in the heels. But he tried to smile because having to walk in them was still better than having to stand in them for hours more.

When he recovered a little he hurriedly curtsied and bowed several times in desperate gratitude at being freed and allowed to scrub the hall floor.

He gingerly walked up the stairs to the hall and carefully knelt down to scrub the floor. His petticoats danced daintily around the frilly bottom of his panties as he scrubbed.