Betty's may close this spring! How much were we worth to be there for you for 19 years? How much is it worth to you the keep us around another season, or another year? Please donate anything you can to keep us here.
I continued to wade in the shallow end. I didn't dare to actually swim, for fear of getting my hair wet and suffering the wrath of Ms Roberts. I closed my eyes in an effort to blot out all the others around me and to just enjoy the coolness of the water.
When I opened them, I saw two boys who were paying particular attention to me. They almost seemed to be circling me, like two sharks around a man lost at sea. I sensed trouble and tried to move away from them. But they kept at me.
One called to me. "Need some help little girl?"
When I turned toward him, the other quickly got behind me and pulled the shower cap off my curls.
"Give it back!" I yelled to him.
"Come and get it little girl!" He shouted back.
I moved toward him and he tossed it to the other boy, who also shouted, "Come and get it little girl!"
This went on for three or four "rotations" until one of them didn't throw it hard enough and it landed nearby me and I was able to grab it. I shook it and wrung it, to get as much water out as I could. But this distracted me enough to allow one of them get behind me. He quickly put his hands on my shoulders and pushed my head under the water. He managed to hold me under for a few moments with one hand and he used the other to totally muss up my curls.
When I emerged from underneath the water, one of them called to me. "Oh, sorry that we ruined your pretty curls little girl. But another permanent will fix that."
All I could think to do was run. I got out of the pool as quickly as I could and I ran to the chair that held my stuff and grabbed it and ran into the locker room.
"Whoa Sweetheart!" Bonnie said as she put her arms up to stop me. "What happened to you? I told you not to get your hair wet and just look at you! Your curls are ruined."
I was too upset to say anything. I just cried like the little girl I appeared to be.
She took my towel from my hands and started to dry my hair and tried to console me. "Did some nasty boys do this to you sweetie?"
I gasped and sniffled and nodded my head up and down. I felt just like a little girl being comforted by her mommy. And it didn't feel right.
Then she dried my face with the towel and wiped my nose with a tissue from her pocket. I shuddered at how "little girlish" I felt . And I shuddered at the thought of what Ms Roberts would do when she found out that my perm had been ruined.
"Calm down honey." Bonnie whispered in my ear. "I'll help get you dressed and you can head back to your cabin. A new perm tomorrow will fix you up like new."
The thought of another horrid permanent didn't console me at all.
Redressed and settled down somewhat, I made my way back to Sugar Plum cabin in tears. Nobody was there, not even Chrissy--though I wouldn't have minded having her there to comfort me.
I looked in a mirror in the bathroom. My hair was a total mess. I got my curlers and tried to remedy the situation with them but soon found it was hopeless. So I just laid on my bed and thought about what Ms Roberts would do and cried myself to sleep.
I awoke to the sound of boys coming into the cabin. The clock on my dresser said 7:46PM. I'd slept through dinner, though I didn't care. I had no appetite.
When they saw me, they gasped at the sight of my hair.
"Whoa!" Said one. "Somebody's gonna be in big trouble tomorrow."
Before long, Chrissy came in. She sat on my bed and ran her hand across my cheek. "I heard what happened Sweetie and I know it wasn't your fault. But you'll need to see Ms Roberts tomorrow morning and you'll certainly need another permanent."
The next morning, I woke up a little before "rise and shine" time. I just laid there, running my hands through my very tangled, fallen curls. I hadn't set my hair the night before, there was no reason to. I wondered what the day would hold for me. Another permanent, I knew for sure.
When the wakeup call came, I dressed in my "uniform" of the day--yellow gingham with the extra pettie. I did absolutely nothing with my hair. Not even the matching bow to my dress. That would be pointless.
I headed for breakfast. The morning was sunny and bright and a little cooler than yesterday. I was glad for that, at least.
As I passed the administration building, Chrissy was just leaving it. She was carrying a cardboard box of something in her hands. She just gave me a forlorn little smile and waved.
As I approached the cafeteria hall, I saw a large, over-sized playpen under the shade of a maple tree near the entrance. And it held two occupants. Getting closer, I realized that the two occupants were one year old, little baby girl campers. I wondered why they weren't in the nursery.
A small crowd of boys was gathered around the playpen and the crowd was totally silent. Not a word. The babies sucked away in misery on their pacifiers. Their red, swollen tear filled eyes stared downward under their frilly baby bonnets. Their lavish white baby dresses and petticoats ballooned about their very bulbous rhumba panties. I caught the scent of pee soaked, poopy diapers in the air. At almost the same time, they both glanced up just for a moment. They were the boys who had dunked me in the pool. They were there to serve as an example to others.
As I waited in the breakfast line, I smiled. There was "justice in the jungle". Though I did feel a little pity for them.
During breakfast, not a word was spoken about me and my hair. And nobody spoke at all about the two boys, lest they might find themselves in similar circumstances.
Leaving the cafeteria, an announcement came over the camp loudspeaker system. "Stephanie Crandall, please report to Ms Roberts' office."
Here it comes, I thought. But then thinking again, Ms Roberts obviously knew that the two boys were responsible for ruining my hair.
Standing in front of her, I curtsied and she bid me to be seated on a stool in front of her desk.
"Stephanie, I'm going to be brief and to the point. You're to only listen carefully and NOT speak. Understand?"
I nodded my head up and down.
"You know that I am aware of what happened at the pool. And you know that the two boys who dunked you are being severely punished. They'll be kept as little baby girls for two weeks, longer if they don't cooperate. They are responsible for your ruined hair. But you are not guiltless. You are responsible for the circumstances that led to your dunking."
I started to tear up as she continued.
"Why on earth you decided to go swimming on your own---well, I just cannot understand."
"Be silent Stephanie. You're only to listen!" She admonished.
She continued. "It was a very foolish thing to do. Though it doesn't excuse the two boys, you set yourself up for something like that to happen. And you deserve to be punished too."
I gulped and I just totally cried.
"Now go back to your cabin. Chrissy is there waiting for you. She'll get you ready for your permanent."
I stood up, curtsied, and said only, "Yes Mam."
Walking back to the cabin, I wondered what Ms Roberts meant when she said "she'll get you ready for your permanent". And I tried NOT to wonder about what my punishment would be.
Back at the cabin, Chrissy sat waiting for me on my bed. No one else was there. The box I'd seen her carrying earlier was next to her.
"I'm so sorry to do this to you Steph," she sighed, "but I need to get you dressed for your perm."
"But why can't I just get it like this?" And I held my arms about my dress.
"Ms Roberts' orders. Now please don't make this any harder. Strip down to nothing."
I started to undress while she began removing the contents of the box.
"Oh God no Chrissy." I cried as I saw them.
"Hush sweetie. It'll be alright. It'll all be over by tonight."
What exactly "it'll all be over by tonight" meant was unclear to me. And the garish clothes that now laid on the bed made no sense either. All I knew for sure was that it would be awful for me.
Less than an hour later, I was standing in front of Ms Roberts in her office again. I was crying uncontrollablely.
My unruly hair was stuffed under a large, wide brimmed white hat that was tied under my chin in a big bow. No makeup of any kind, except for just a hint of red lipstick.
I was wearing a puffed long sleeve blouse of shiny, light blue velvet. It had a large, very embellished frilly white collar and cuffs to match. The blouse fed into fairly tight fitting, zipperless, blue velvet short pants which were cuffed in white lace. They reached to just above my knees.
Below my knees were white silk stockings with bows at the top. My shoes were black patent leather Mary Jane style pumps with a slight heel. Gold buckles adorned them. They had little metal cleats on the heels and toes.
A large white sash, tied in a garish bow at one side, served as a belt.
"You look perfect Stephen. You're all set to get your permanent." Ms Roberts said as she stepped from behind her desk and approached to get a closer look at me.
I still couldn't fathom why I'd been dressed like this just to get a perm. How could it matter what I wore? And why did she call me Stephen?
Standing in front of me, Ms Roberts continued. "You, young MAN, are very fortunate to be wearing what is called a "Little Lord Fauntleroy" suit. They were very popular in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Loving, doting mothers often dressed their weiner curled sons in them. My own Grandmother regularly dressed my late Father, who founded this camp, in one. They were quite the rage back then. And I even broke my own rule of no pants for boys ever, just so you could wear one."
Yeah--great, I thought. I'm so lucky to be wearing these pants.
"Well, it's time for your perm." And she took my hand.
As we left her office, we didn't head for the small salon here in the building where I'd been given my first permanent. Instead, we walked toward the exit. I started to panic. And I really began to panic when we headed for her van in the parking lot. And I started to pull away from her.
"Don't fight me." She warned. "Or do you want me to put you across my knee?"
As we reached her van I cried, "But where are we going?"
"Be quiet Stephen and accept your punishment. Or I'll make it even worse. Now get in the van!"
We got in the van, buckled up and she locked the doors and started it up--leaving in in park though.
And she explained. "The nanny who runs the salon here, the one who gave you your first perm, sadly had a death in her family. And she's gone and won't return for several days. So I made an appointment for your perm at a beauty salon in the Mall.
"No!!! I won't go." And I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed the door latch. But the child proof locks stopped me from getting out.
Then she slapped my face hard and yelled. "Don't you dare cross me sissy boy! Now buckle up and SHUT UP!" And she put the van in gear.
I now fully understood my awful punishment. I was to be permed in public as a very "sissified" boy. And I couldn't bear the thought of what was about to happen to me.
As we drove, all I could do was whimper.
Ms Roberts handed me a tissue and in a softer, gentler tone said, "Now listen to me. I know you very much want to be dressed like the other boys. And that's very admirable. I also know you've been trying very hard to behave and to do as your told."
And she paused for a moment and giggled slightly and chuckled. "And you've even kept your panties dry and clean."
That was the first sign of any emotion, other than anger, that I'd seen from her. And she continued.
"Before the pool incident of yesterday, I was considering promoting you, before long, to the status of a teenage girl. Just like most of the other boys. And despite the pool incident, I'm still willing to consider it. But only if you take your punishment like a MAN--well, a young man at least. If you don't fight me and argue and carry on, you could find yourself, not immediately but before too long, in simple skirts and tops and thirteen years old instead of five."
I tried, as best I could as we drove along, to blot out in my mind the impending extreme humiliation I'd soon be facing. It would not be unlike my first trip to the Mall with Lisa. I'd be an obviously very sissified boy. No hiding behind the guise of a little girl. It would be absolutely clear to all that I was a boy in a very sissy outfit getting his hair permed. Of course, that was the intent of my punishment. I focused on taking my punishment "like a man" so Ms Roberts would consider letting me dress like the other boys at camp. And, after all, I was very experienced in being put in very embarrassing and humiliating situations. This would be no better and, hopefully, no worse.
I grit my teeth and looked down to the floor as we entered the Mall. I was horrified to discover that my cleated shoes made a very loud "clickety clack" sound with each step I took on the stone tile flooring. If anyone, by chance, happened to not notice me, my noisy shoes would certainly announce my presence. Ms Roberts knew all the tricks.
As she held my hand and walked me along to the beauty salon, I was surprised to not hear a lot of taunting remarks. Instead, for the most part, only gasps of surprise and disbelief at the spectacle of me. People, understandably, seemed to be very caught off guard by the sight and sound of "Little Boy Blue" prancing down the Mall.
It was different though at the salon.
Standing at the counter, Ms Roberts very matter of factly said, "Hello, I have an 11 o'clock appointment under the name of "Roberts" for a permanent for this young man here." And she put her arm on my shoulder.
The beautician just stared in awe at me, her mouth wide open but saying nothing. After a moment, she managed to speak.
"You want a PERMANENT for this---ah--boy?" And she outright laughed, as did all the others in the salon.
Ms Roberts untied and removed my white hat as she replied, "Yes please. As you can see, he's made a mess of the perm he received just a few weeks ago."
The place exploded in laughter. I was crying, but determined to get through this "like a man", so to speak.
"Well, um---follow me ladies---ah---um---Just come with me please."
"What a sissyboy!" and "Look at the pansie!" and "A real pantywaist!" and "Nice outfit Nancyboy!" and "How could he let himself be dressed like that!" and "Pervert!" These were the things I heard as I was taken to the styling chair.
Ms Roberts seemed to take it all in stride. "Pay no attention to them Stephen. It's okay to be a pretty boy." And that caused even more jeering and laughter.
I was seated in the styling chair. A pink cape was put around me.
Ms Roberts told the stylist, "I think his hair is long enough now to have nice long wiener curls cascading down to his shoulders."
The stylist gulped. "You want him in long wiener curls???"
"Well, it's really what he wants. Right my pretty boy?" Ms Roberts said.
I just sobbed and said nothing, as the salon just roared again in laughter and disbelief.
The stylist giggled and said, "Okay, then wiener curls it is for your pretty boy!"
A little over an hour later, I sat under a hairdryer near the front window of the salon in my long perm rods. Passers by gawked and laughed at the sight of the "pretty boy" getting a permanent. At least, I couldn't hear them.
About forty five minutes later, my white hat was carefully placed atop my head. Twenty or so long, thick wiener curls dangled down from under my hat to just passed my shoulders.
I "clickety clacked" my way out the salon and down the Mall to outrageous laughter and taunting.
About half way out, I stopped and whispered to Ms Roberts, "I need to use the potty please."
I really did need to pee badly. I certainly didn't want to have an accident and suffer the consequences of that.
Ms Roberts led me to the restrooms. I really was not eager to go into the Mens Room looking like I did. But the Ladies Room wasn't an option for me now and I didn't want to wet my pants and end up in diapers again.
"Take your time Stephen." Ms Roberts said as she let go of my hand.
That was the LAST thing I wanted to do though. In and out as quickly as possible was my goal.
The Mens Room was pretty busy and exploded into laughter and teasing as I entered.
Only one urinal was open, between two boys about my age.
"Nice outfit and pretty wiener curls sissyboy." Laughed one. "Are they supposed to match the wiener between your legs?"
As I reached into my blue velvet pants to do my business, the other boy said, "He probably doesn't even have one anymore!"
I was so embarrassed. I peed and got out of there quickly.
"Next time, I think you should use the Ladies Room you little Fairy!" I heard from someone as I left.
As we headed out the Mall, Ms Roberts told me. "That was wise of you to use the restroom Stephen."
It was awful, but she was right. It was a wise thing for me to do.
In the van, as we drove, she took out a small bag from the tote she'd been carrying. "These are extra long rollers for your lovely wiener curls. I got them at the salon. Every night, just tightly roll each separate wiener curl in one before bedtime and put on your hairnet. That'll keep them in shape."
Back at camp, I again stood in front of Ms Roberts in her office. My "Little Lord Fauntleroy" suit and hat had been replaced with my gingham dress and petties and matching hairbow.
"You did well this morning Stephanie. I trust you've learned to take good care of your pretty hair! Here's your rollers."
A few days later, just before lights out, Chrissy announced to the cabin that tomorrow would be a good time to start thinking about and begin working on letters to home inviting parents and families to an upcoming parents weekend.
"Make your letters happy, cheerful and positive girls! And I have to screen them before they're mailed." She said.
When the lights went out, she walked to my bed and whispered, "Ms Roberts will want to read yours Stephie."
I drifted off to sleep thinking that I would have to make my letter VERY "happy, cheerful and positive" to score points with Ms Roberts.
After breakfast the next day, I grabbed paper, pencil and a clipboard and headed for a shady tree on the recreation field. It was sunny and warm and it would be a good opportunity for me to start my letter.
As I sat there thinking about what to write, Felicity, the "Wannabee" whose bed was next to mine, sat down beside me.
"Working on your letter Stephie?" He asked.
"Yeah. Gotta make it good so I can score some points with Ms Roberts and, hopefully, get outta these silly dresses and petticoats soon."
"I understand, but I almost wish I was wearing them!" He said.
"Well not me!" I replied.
"You know," Felicity continued, "if you want to score even more points with Ms Roberts---tomorrow, all day in the recreation center, girls from Sunnyvale will be teaching classes on makeup and hair styling and manicures and girlish deportment and stuff like that. And it's all stuff you should know anyways, if you ever get to be a teenage girl. I'm going."
I thought briefly, "Yeah, thanks Felicity. I'll see you there."
She left me to my letter. Just as I started to write, I heard in the distance, "Hi Stephie!"
I looked up. At the edge of the recreation field I saw Lisa and Sarah. I'd not seen them for awhile.
They were close enough that I could see an evil grin on Lisa's face. She said nothing more. She simply raised a hand and pointed her finger to a group of "Wannabees" who were busy playing Hopscotch and jumping rope. Her intent was clear.
I spent the next hour, until Lisa and Sarah were gone, jumping rope and playing Hopscotch and again making a spectacle of myself in my dress and petticoats.
With them gone, I got back to work on my letter. I started a rough draft and managed to finish it by lunchtime. I could make the good copy after lunch.
Walking back to the tree after lunch, I thought. "I'll use my very best penmanship. Make it very fussy and neat, like a girl would. I'll even dot my i's with hearts like girls often do. Maybe I'll even draw and color a picture at the of myself here at camp at the bottom. That'll impress Ms Roberts!"
The finished letter purposely read like something written by a seven or eight year old. And, of course, it was full of lies. But I had to make it sound glowing and positive. It read:
Dear Stepmother and Laura,
How are you? I am fine. I'm having a wonderful time here at Camp Sissy Curls and I'm making lots of new girlfriends. There's lots to do here but probably the thing I like to do most is playing Hopscotch and jumping rope with the other girls. And coloring in my coloring books too. Tomorrow, I'm going to take classes on how to do makeup, hair styling and putting on pretty nailpolish. Stuff like that. Really awesome. Just like a big girl. I can't wait.
I so love being a girl now. Boys are "yucky"! The best part is I get to wear pretty dresses and petticoats, but they're hard to control. But I'm learning. All my dresses even have matching hair bows.
I've even been given a permanent. That wasn't fun, but now I have nice, long pretty wiener curls.
I hope you can come to the parent and family weekend. It's the first weekend in August. It will be ever so much fun.
P.S.---I hope you like the picture of me I colored below in my pink gingham dress!
With all my i's dotted with hearts, I turned in my damning but necessary letter to Chrissy for review by Ms Roberts.
The next morning after breakfast, I made my way to the recreation center for my "girlie" classes. Lots of boys and girls were there. Girls from Camp Sunnyvale, including Lisa and Sarah and many from Hummingbird cabin, and lots of sissy boys like me. Except, as always, I was the only five year old and stuck out greatly among all the others.
The girls from Sunnyvale were the instructors. The first class I went to was in girlish deportment. That was an easy one for me. I had a lot of experience in curtseying and sashaying about and sitting in a ladylike manner and handling and controlling very full dresses with petticoats. Unfortunately, I was too adept at it. The girls used me to demonstrate various girlish mannerisms and movements.
The second class was about manicures and pedicures. A pretty girl from Sunnyvale named Amanda, who I did not know, volunteered to be my instructor for the rest of the classes. She taught me by giving me a complete manicure and pedicure that finished off with glossy, hot pink nailpolish. Then I practiced what I learned by doing the same thing to her. I was very relieved that I wasn't doing it to another sissy boy like me. I had no desire to get "up close and personal" with another boy.
Working away on Amanda was quite erotic actually, especially when I moved to her feet for the pedicure. She was gorgeous. Painting her toenails and just being so close and intimate with her really made my little girlie wiener very "happy".
After lunch, which was a bag lunch provided by the cafeteria, it was time for makeup lessons. Amanda applied foundation to my face, then blush and powder and pink eye shadow. She curled my eyelashes and applied mascara and eyeliner. She finished me off with pink lip gloss and a dab of perfume behind my ears and on my wrists. And I was really getting turned on by all her efforts with my makeup. Then she let me try making up her face, though just a little because I was pretty awkward with it all.
"God, she smelled good." I thought.
By the time it came to hair styling, my bloomers were very "tented" in the front. I was actually glad, for once, to have my very full dress. It concealed the large bulge in the front of my panties.
"I'm not gonna show you how to set your hair in rollers Stephanie." Amanda said. "I know you have a lot of experience with that from your lovely wiener curls and permanent."
That was a break for me.
"And I'm not gonna demonstrate on your hair. Don't wanna ruin your pretty hairdo."
"Damn." I thought.
"Instead, I'll show you some styling techniques with my own hair and then let you try it on me."
"Fantastic!" I thought.
She had beautiful, long straight auburn hair that reached almost to her waist and I couldn't wait to get my hands into it.
She brushed it and put it into a perky ponytail atop her head with a scrunchie. Then she removed it and had me do it.
It was simple enough and God, I was getting aroused.
Next, she parted her hair down the middle of her head and put it into two long pigtails with rubber bands. Then she undid them and it was my turn.
Her hair felt and smelled wonderful. As I parted it and fixed it into two long pigtails, I thought my wiener was going to explode.
She didn't remove the pigtails though. Instead, she demonstrated how to braid them. When done, she undid the braids and it was my turn to try braiding.
Standing next to her, working on her second braid, she sensed my tension. "Is something wrong Stephanie?"
"No, I'm fine." I replied.
"Well your face is flushed and there's sweat on your forehead."
And with that said and before I knew it, she reached her hand up under my dress and petties and felt the front of my panties.
"Oh my God, you're stiff as a board!" She giggled loudly. "You sure are enjoying all this girlie stuff, sissy boy."
"No, no, it's not that." I said. "It's just that you're--well--um--so...."
I was too embarrassed to tell her that she was really turning me on and was the cause of the bulge in my panties.
"Well try and control your little "woody" you little pantywaist." She said. "And finish my braids."
The final straw was when I was practicing doing her hair in a pretty French braid down her back. I could feel a small, creamy "little girl juice" stain on the front of my panties and more beads of sweat were running down my forehead.
With the French braid done, she stood me in front of her.
"Lift up the front of your dress and petties Stephanie." She ordered.
"No, please don't make me do that!" I cried.
"Sissy boys do as they're told. NOW DO IT!"
I slowly lifted them up revealing my extremely "tented" and slightly semen stained panties.
"God, you little sissy pervert. You sure do get off on being a little girl!" She scorned.
"No, really, it's not that!" I cired.
"Sure, that's what all the "Wannabees" say."
And to my horror, she reached into her purse and pulled out two large safety pins.
"Well, I think you should let everyone see how much you really love being a little girl and how much you love all this girlie stuff!"
And she pinned up the front of my dress and petticoats to my shoulders and tucked my panties down under my ball sack.
"You can spend the rest of the time here like that, you little perverted pansie."
With the last class of hair styling over and about an hour until dinner time, we boys were told to walk around the rec center and check out the many displays of hair care products and perfumes and bathing needs and makeup and nailpolish and the like that were set up on tables.
Of course, I caused a lot of commotion and laughter and teasing from the Sunnyvale girls.
I just wandered aimlessly around with my very visible and stiff little wiener bobbing up and down and back and forth. My head was hung very low and I was sobbing greatly from the humiliation.
"Well, well, well,---looks like we have a real happy camper here!"
I looked up to see Lisa grinning at me.
"And you know, I'm gonna make you an even happier camper Stephie. I'm gonna let you have an all new girlie experience." She chuckled.
I knew it would be horrible. She reached into her purse and pulled out a long, flesh colored tube-like device. It resembled my own erect "willy".
"This is called a dildo Stephie. And it's battery powered. See, it vibrates!" And she flicked on a little switch causing it to hum and pulsate.
"We girls just love having something long and hard and throbbing deep inside us. Now bend over for the ultimate girl experience."
"No, please no!" I pleaded.
"Then perhaps you'd like a nice, sore red bottom first sissy boy?" She snarled.
"No, no." And I bent over.
Lisa licked it for lubrication before inserting the dildo deep into my butt. She turned it on and secured it in place with the seat of my panties.
I spent the remainder of the time there wandering about displaying my "saluting soldier" and listening to the sounds of laughter and teasing and the hum of the dildo vibrating mercilously inside me.
Just a few minutes before my ordeal would be over, Felicity approached me. He looked almost like he was in a daze. A little saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth.
"Ah, hi Steph." He said. "I was wondering if we could--ah--step into the bathroom and--ahhh--maybe you'd let me su-k...."
"Faggot!" Yelled Amanda, as she slapped his face. "Get outta here pervert!"
She'd been, thankfully, nearby and overheard Felicity's request of me.
"I figured he'd hit on you. He looks the type." She said, as Felicity quickly moved off. "And I didn't figure you were the type. Are you?"
"No, definitely not! And thanks Amanda." I said.
"Well, I figured you'd been through enough today. You can go into the bathroom and remove the dildo and wash it off and upin your dress. Give Lisa back her little toy."
The next morning, I stood in front of a full length mirror in my cabin adjusting and fitting my yellow gingham dress over my mountain of petticoats. I attached the matching hairbow to the top of my long, dangling wiener curls. I looked at the five year old little girl reflected in the mirror and hoped that soon I'd see a teenage girl there.
I headed for breakfast and was glad to find a seat next to Chrissy.
"Sorry about yesterday Steph." She said. "I heard you had a rough go of it."
"Yeah, I sure did." And that was all I wanted to say about it.
Leaving breakfast, over the camp PA system came, "Stephanie Crandall, please report to Ms Roberts' office."
As I headed there, I thought that maybe this could be "good" news for a change.
I knocked on her door and she bid me to enter.
"You may sit down Stephanie." She smiled.
"Well, if you don't mind Ms Roberts, I'd prefer to just stand. It's easier that way in my outfit." I said as I curtsied.
"As you wish. This won't be long."
She seemed to be in an amicable mood. Maybe I'd get "good" news.
"Stephanie," she began, "your letter home for Parents' Weekend was very well done. The picture of yourself and the heart dotted i's was a nice touch too. I also know you spent yesterday attending the classes on important girl matters. And I know you had a tough time there. I have to commend you. You've tried very hard in the last days and weeks. And you've also kept your panties clean and dry."
I smiled and actually probably blushed a little.
She continued. "I've decided that your efforts should be rewarded. Starting tomorrow, I'm promoting you to a teenage girl, so long as you follow the straight and narrow and keep your panties dry."
"Oh Ms Roberts, thank you, thank you ever so much!" I gushed as I gave another deep, genuine curtsey. "I promise I'll be a perfect teenage girl. Oh, thank you so much!"
"You're welcome Stephanie. Now come with me."
And she took me to a small room across from her office that stored camp clothing and outfits.
Fifteen minutes later, as I headed toward the building exit, I heard Ms Roberts, over my shoulder, call "Remember Stephanie, follow the straight and narrow and keep your panties clean!"
"Yes Ms Roberts. And thank you again." I called back.
I walked to Sugar Plum cabin carrying a large box of short, pleated skirts in various colors with matching panties and an equal number of different camp T-shirts; a few extra white training bras, simple white low cut socks, and a pair of girls white tennis sneakers. "Keds" she had called them.
I smiled broadly as I made my way to the cabin. "I'd done it. Tomorrow I'd be a teenage girl like all the other boys." I thought.
Then I thought again---"a teenage girl like all the other boys". What a conflict in terms. But then, this whole camp was nothing but a huge "conflict in terms". But I wasn't going to let that squelch my joy at getting out of my silly, sissy dresses and petticoats and being a teenager instead of a five year old little girl.
I set the box on my bed and happily began hanging and putting away my new clothes. I wished I could change into them now, but tomorrow would come soon enough.
As I hung up my last skirt, I heard foot steps behind me and turned around to see Chrissy.
"Oh my goodness Stephie." She said as she eyed my new clothes.
"Chrissy! I've been promoted! Starting tomorrow, I get to be a teenage girl!" I was so excited that I was almost shouting.
"Ahhhh, so I see." She responded, in a much more reserved fashion than me. "I--um--guess congratulations are in order."
"Yeah, I can't wait to get out of these silly dresses and petticoats!" I said, but I could see we didn't share the same enthusiasm.
"Well--um--I guess I can understand how you would feel that way." She whistfully said, as a single tear formed in the corner of one eye.
"Chrissy, what's wrong? You should be happy for me. This is great!" I said.
Tears were forming in both her eyes now. "You're right, of course, Stephie. It's great for you. But not for me!"
She started to fondle my curls and flounce my dress and petticoats. And I really didn't know what to say.
"You see Steph, I'm gonna really miss my precious, pretty little girl." She sighed.
"Well--ah--I--ah--can't help that Chrissy. I want out of these dresses and things." But I did actually feel badly for her.
"I know. Of course you do. But can I, at least, give you a going away present?"
I was puzzled. "But I'm not goin' anywhere Chrissy."
"YOU'RE not going anywhere Steph, but my pretty little five year old girl is!"
"Oh!" And I understood her now.
"Nobody's around and won't be for a long while." She said as she took my hand and led me, like her precious little girl, into her bedroom.
Seated on her bed, she cleared a space between my wiener curls to my neck. She started heavily kissing under my curls and all around my neck. Before long, she moved to my face, covering it all over with wet kisses. Finally, she reached my lips and gave me a long, hard kiss while sticking her tongue down my throat.
This was all new to me. Before, she had just gone immediately for "down under". I'd never "necked" with a girl before. It was very stimulating, to say the least.
As I started to respond to her in the same fashion, she placed my hand under her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra and her br.easts felt so warm and wonderful. Then she reached her hand into my panties and began to stroke my wiener, which needed little "coaxing".
"God, she felt and tasted and smelled so good!" I thought.
After several minutes of this "necking and petting" foreplay, her head made its way "down under". And before long, my throbbing "willy" exploded.
A muffled "sigh" came from underneath my dress and petties.
"I hope my little girl enjoyed her going away present."
The next day couldn't come soon enough for me, but it finally did. I stood in front of the mirror, before breakfast, and reflected back was a thirteen year old girl in a short, pleated navy blue skirt and matching panties, a training bra and camp T-shirt, short white socks and Keds.
I smiled broadly as I took the sum of my wiener curls into my hands and put them into a large, curly ponytail at the top of my head with a blue scrunchie.
As I practically skipped with joy to breakfast, I thought about how strange my situation was. If just a month ago, someone had told me that I'd be ecstatic about what I was now wearing, I'd have said they were crazy.
But my new clothes felt so much better. And they were cooler and gave me a sense of freedom. And having my hair off my neck and shoulders felt wonderful, especially in the heat of the morning.
At breakfast, I was thrilled to receive many congratulations from my cabin mates, well, at least the "Don't Wannabees".
Chrissy walked to the cabin table carrying her breakfast tray. There was an open seat next to me. But she opted for another vacant seat down the table, obviously ignoring me.
After breakfast, I felt like just roaming around the camp enjoying the new found freedom and simplicity of my new outfit. And to show it off a little bit too.
The next couple of days went by without a hitch. They were the most pleasant ones I'd had at camp so far.
Being like the other boys made me feel free to indulge in a lot more camp activities like horseback riding and archery and the "Don't Wannabees" even let me go back to keeping score and being the water boy during softball and kickball games. I did keep out of the pool though. It felt, almost, like a normal camp.
But I couldn't help but notice that Chrissy very much ignored me and kept her distance as best she could.
One evening, during the free time just before lights out, Jean Marie said from his bed next to mine. "Well sport, you gotta be glad to be outta those silly dresses, especially with Parent's Weekend coming soon."
"You sure got that right!" I said, happy for his comradeship.
"Well don't screw up and wind up back as a five year old or even worse!" He warned.
"Believe me, I won't."
Spurred on by his overture to me, I thought I'd take a chance and said, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure sport, what?"
"Well, since I got outta my dresses and things, Chrissy has been ignoring me." I said.
He laughed. "Yeah, well we know about your little rendezvous's with Chrissy sport."
I was shocked. "You know about that?"
"Sure, you're not the first and you won't be the last for Chrissy." He chuckled.
"But why doesn't she give me the time of day now?" I asked.
"Cuz he," and he very quickly corrected himself, "I mean, she only likes very sissy little girly boys. So Chrissy's gotta wait 'til the next one comes around."
Feeling bold, I replied, "You said HE."
"No sport, I said SHE." He countered.
"No, you said HE and then quickly corrected yourself." And I persisted. "Why?"
Jean Marie took a deep breath and then laughed. "Well sport, you sure are the naive one."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, let me put it to you this way. Chrissy's name should really be Lola."
I was really confused and he sensed that.
"You know sport." And he sang the lyrics to a song. "Lola L-O-L-A Lola, lo lo lo Lola."
I knew that song and gasped and almost gagged and put my hand to my mouth in horror.
"You really didn't have a clue, did you sport." He said.
I shook my head no. "She, I mean he said he was from Sunnyvale. And he sure doesn't look or feel like a guy."
"Well, he lied about Sunnyvale. And he's had a lot of treatments--hormone injections, hair electrolysis, br.east enhancement--stuff like that in preperation for a sex change operation he's having this Fall. But for now, he's still a guy between his legs, just like you and me."
"I had no idea!" And I got up quickly and cupped my hands under my mouth and ran for the bathroom.
A short time later, I laid in the darkness in bed, my teeth thoroughly brushed after throwing up. The song was singing over and over in my head.
"Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls. It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world, except for Lola. Lo lo lo Lola. Lo lo lo Lola."
Author's note: credit to Ray Davies and "The Kinks" of whom I'm also a long time fan.
I woke up the next morning with that awful song about "Lola" still playing over and over in my mind.
It was Wednesday and that meant the khaki skirt and matching top was the outfit for the day. It also meant that the week was half over and before very long, it would be the weekend. I wasn't looking forward to the weekend. It was Parent's Weekend and I dreaded it. I hoped that my stepmother and stepsister wouldn't come or even better, have a car accident on the way here. But no, I thought again, I can't wish for that, even though they deserved it. But I could pray they wouldn't come.
I bunched my hair to the top with a scrunchie and headed for the showers. It was nice to be "roller" free and to not have to worry so much about my hair, though I didn't want to get it too wet.
After my shower, I started to dress for the day. With my panties and socks on, I grabbed a bra. Only the ones I'd received with my new outfits from Ms Roberts were clean. As I put one on, I noticed it seemed to be less of a training bra and more like a regular bra that a teenage girl would wear. And the cups were padded.
When I finished dressing, I realized I had more pronounced, perky "mounds" under my T-shirt. I wasn't thrilled with the extra cleavage but it didn't matter. It was no different than the other boys.
I took out my scrunchie and redid my hair more carefully into a high ponytail again, to keep it off my neck and shoulders. I thought I'd probably need to wash it tomorrow. And that would be a good thing. It would help to loosen my permed curls.
I walked to breakfast hoping that Chrissy would still be avoiding and ignoring me. And even if HE surprised me and didn't, it wouldn't matter. It was my intention to avoid HIM like the plague. He sickened me and what he lured me into doing sickened me. I hated and resented him very much for that. But he did ignore me.
I spent the day, much like the day before, enjoying the novelty of my new clothes and their freedom and enjoying the camp, like any camper would--well--like any "girl" camper would, I guess.
After dinner, I went back to the cabin to wash up a bit before heading for the rec center for the evening.
A letter was waiting for me on my bed. The return address was from home. I opened it. The "gushing" letter read:
I hope all is well with you Stephie. Thanks for your letter. I loved it. I'm so glad you're having such fun at camp and making lots of new girlfriends. And I just knew you'd love being a girl and adore wearing pretty dresses and petticoats and all the girly things. You look absolutely adorable and very pretty in the picture you drew of yourself in the letter. Laura and I can't wait to see you in person on Saturday!
P.S.--I hope you'll wear a pretty dress and petticoats for us on Saturday!
"Oh crap!" I thought.
Maybe I'd rethink about praying for a car accident. But, at least, they wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing me in a "pretty dress and petticoats".
Thursday rolled around and was again, a pretty uneventful day. It was rainy and cool and I spent most of the day in the rec center helping to decorate it for Parent's Weekend, which I so did not look forward to. And Chrissy, thankfully, ignored me.
Friday was bright, warm and sunny though. I was, unpleasantly, surprised to find Lisa waiting for me outside the cafeteria after breakfast.
"Stephie, c'mon over here Sweetie. I've been waiting for you." She called.
I gulped and walked to her.
"My, my, my Steph! You've sure grown up a lot in just a few days. And "boobies" too!" She chuckled.
"Hi Lisa." I said with little enthusiasm.
"You must be thrilled to be out of those sissy dresses and petticoats. Though pink for a pleated skirt is a bit weird looking."
She was right about that. "It's the color for today." I replied.
"Yeah, I know Steph." And she put her arm in mine and said, "Let's go for a walk and catch up. I've got the whole day open."
"Do I have a choice?" I said rather sarcastically.
"Oh, now don't be like that sweetie pie!" She said with a smile that quickly turned sour. "And NO. You DON'T have a choice."
I gulped again, as we walked arm in arm. At least, she wasn't holding my hand like I was a little girl.
"Let's go on a hike!" She said. "I know a nice trail through the woods that leads to a small waterfall in the creek. It's really pretty there and it'll be cool in the woods and at the Falls."
"Oh God, what does she have in mind?" I thought.
It turned out to be quite a long hike. Lisa insisted on making several stops along the way for water. She had a small backpack on her back with bottled water in it.
"We mustn't get dehydrated Stephie. Drink up!"
I figured it took about an hour, with all the stops for water, to reach the Falls.
It was a nice spot and was cool and the mist was refreshing. We spent about half an hour taking it all in and chatting and resting.
"Well," She finally said, "we better get going Stephie or we'll miss lunch. And we can have lunch together at your cafeteria."
"Oh God." I moaned.
"What did you say?" She snapped.
"Oh good--I said--oh good."
"That's better Stephie." She said.
It took about another hour, with stops along the way for water which Lisa insisted upon, to get back to camp.
"We're just in time for last call for lunch. I'm starved. How about you Steph?"
"Yeah--well--I guess." I said, but I sure wasn't thirsty.
We got our lunches and found a table to ourselves. Midway through lunch, Lisa excused herself. "I gotta use the Lady's Room. All that water, you know."
I did know. I'd soon need the bathroom too. And to do more than just pee.
I finished my lunch just as Lisa returned.
I figured I'd hit the head while she finished her lunch.
I politely said, "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the potty too."
Force of habit had caused me to use the word "potty" and I felt a bit foolish.
"Hold on a minute Steph. I want to ask you to do something for me."
"Well, can't you ask me when I come back from the bathroom Lisa?" I asked.
"Actually, no Sweetie. I need to ask you now. Right now!" She said.
"Do I have a choice about doing what you want me to do?" I asked, knowing she'd say "no".
Her answer surprised me. "Of course Stephanie. You do have a choice. You don't have to do it, if you don't want to."
I was leery but intrigued by her reply. And I could wait a few minutes before heading for the can.
"Okay Lisa, what is it?"
"Well Sweetie Pie, I have to admit that I miss having my pretty little girl in diapers around. And I'm sure Chrissy does too. I want my little girl in diapers back!"
"No!" I cried. "Never!" And I felt tears beginning to well up in my eyes.
"Let me finish Stephie. You might regret not hearing me out." And she took my hand in hers.
"But I won't be a little girl in diapers again!" I sobbed.
"You don't have to be, if you don't want to be. Now--please--let me finish."
I just hung my head and cried and listened.
"Instead of using the potty to do your business, I want you to use your panties." She said, in a very matter of fact way.
I was horrified. "You're crazy. No way! No way I'm gonna do that!"
"Okay, okay Sweetie. It's your choice." She said. "But while you're using the potty, just remember your little video and the folks back home and at school. And I'm sure they'd be interested in hearing about your boyfirend Chrissy too."
"Oh please Lisa. Please, please," I begged, "please don't make me do that."
"I'm not making you do it. It's your choice Stephie."
"Yeah right," I snapped, "some choice you're giving me!"
I began to beg some more. "Please don't make me mess my panties. I gotta do more than just pee."
She just sat there and looked at me coldly and said nothing.
"Can't you at least wait until after Parent's Weekend to make me do this?" I desparately pleaded. "I promise I'll do it then. Honest!"
A cold stare and silence was her reply again.
I put my head down into my arms on the table and sobbed. But only for a minute because I really had to badly "go" now. I had to make a choice, though I knew I really didn't have one. She'd set me up for all of this. And I was beaten.
I looked up into her cold, vacant, silent face.
"Do I have to do it in here?" I asked pleadingly.
"No Stephanie. You can go out by the tree near the entrance and do it there." And she giggled. "The janitor will be glad. You'll save him the job of cleaning up you mess!"
I got up, totally defeated, and trudged for the door.
I stood near the tree, as inconspicuously as possible, and closed my eyes and let it go.
Moments later, a large stinky load of poop tugged downward on the seat of my panties. The front of my panties, as well as my skirt, was soaked. Pee streamed down my bare legs.
I just stood there, numb, with my hands covering my face and crying my eyes out. I was too upset to even think about what to do next.
Then I heard. "Good work, Little Miss Poopie Pants!"
I peeked through my fingers to see Lisa standing in front of me with her nose pinched.
"Just hold tight. I'm gonna call Ms Roberts and see what she wants me to do with stinky, little you." And she took her cell phone from her purse.
"Hi Ms Roberts. It's Lisa. I'm--ah--afraid Stephanie Crandall's had a little accident." She paused for a moment. "No, no, not that kind of accident. He's not hurt. But, he just wet and pooped his panties. He's a real mess."
Lisa grinned slyly at me, as she listened to Ms Roberts on the other end.
"Okay. Will do. Bye." And she closed up her cell phone.
"Okay Puddle Pants. We're off to the nursery. They'll be expecting you." And she held out her arm in the direction of the nursery.
I kept my hands to my tear stained face in shame. I wanted to blot out my surroundings as much as I could.
As I started for the nursery, I realized I'd need to walk very slowly and gingerly. The poop in the seat of my loose fitting panties would easily fall out and go down my legs and I didn't want that added embarrassment.
Lisa walked a few paces behind me. The gentle breeze was to my back, so she was upwind of me.
I carefully minced along, peeking periodically through my fingers to see the way. I felt like a gymnast walking a balance beam. It occured to me that Ms Roberts had warned me to "keep on the straight and narrow". But this certainly wasn't what she meant.
At my slow and steady pace, what would normally be a two to three minute walk, probably took close to ten minutes. But it seemed much longer.
I focused on nothing but the path in front of me through my fingers. The only sounds I heard were again, the gasps of my fellow campers as our pathes crossed.
As we neared the nursery, Lisa called from behind me. "Hold up a moment Stinky Boy."
Her nose was pinched, as she whispered over my shoulder. "Don't you dare tell anyone that I made you do this or.....well, you certainly know what OR means."
And she pushed me, on my back, toward the nursey; causing a large hunk of poop to fall from my panties. It ricocheted off my leg and plopped to the ground.
Two nannies were waiting outside for me. I recognized neither one. They were both new to me.
"We'll take "poopy boy" from here Lisa." Said one.
Inside the nursery, in a shower stall, they started to undress me. They didn't pinch their noses. They were quite used to the smell of wet, stinky messes.
They threw away my pink, pleated skirt and panties. They were too messy to be salvable. But my socks, Keds, bra and top went into a dirty laundry bin.
"As long as we're cleaning him up, " said the other, "we might as well use the hair removal stuff on him. Looks like it's not been done since he first got here. And Ms Roberts will want him nice and baby smooth for Parent's Weekend."
"Yeah, you're right." Replied the first one. "But we don't need to worry about his hair. That'll be taken care of tomorrow morning before parents start arriving in the afternoon."
About an hour later, I laid naked on a changing table as a snow storm of baby powder was sprinkled all over from my waist down. My bum received a heavy coating of diaper rash ointment.
"We should double diaper him in cloth diapers with an extra insert in the front so he can get a lot of mileage out of them." Said the first one to the other.
Except for simple directions, they spoke very little to me, almost as if I wasn't there or like I was a little baby who wouldn't understand anyways.
"Okay, bum up baby." The first one said and I lifted it up.
When the last pink safety capped diaper pin was in place, it was time for my diaper pants.
"I've got the perfect diapers pants for him. But he probably won't appreciate them." The second one said.
They were transparent vinyl plastic with a slight pink tint to them. White ruffles ringed the waist and leg openings. And she was right, I didn't appreciate them. The clear, pink plastic would allow any yellow stains in the front or brown stains in the back of my diapers to be clearly visible.
I was sat up on the edge of the changing table for white ruffled anklets and white, strapped sandals. A baby T-shirt of white, with pink lace ruffles around the neck and arm and waist openings was pulled over my head. It sported very babyish iron on appliques across the front and reached down to a few inches above my belly button. A pink ribbon was pinned to it with a pink binkie on the other end.
For my hair, they parted it down the middle and tied it up into two curly pigtails, each one just above and behind the ear. With a large pink ribbon tied in each pigtail, I was done.
"He's still got a lot of curl left in his hair." Said one to the other, as she helped me to the floor. Then she patted me on the butt, "You know who wants to see you in her office Babykins. And get that binkie in your mouth and keep it there!"
I waddled, and I really mean WADDLED to Ms Roberts' office. I was greatly bow legged from the massive diapers.
I cried and sucked on my binkie, as I stood in front of Ms Roberts. She shook her head back and forth.
"Well Stephanie, you've come full circle now, though not in quite the correct chronological order." And she giggled. "You've been a five year old little girl, a thirteen year old teenage girl, and now, a one year old baby girl. I warned you." And she stood up from behind her desk and walked to me.
I felt so incredibly defeated. And the fact that I couldn't tell her it was all Lisa's doing made it even worse.
Standing in front of me, she continued. "I haven't decided if you're going to be kept like you are now, as a baby girl, or if you'll be kept as a five year old little girl. But you certainly won't be a teenager again. And you certainly won't be without diapers again."
I already knew that I wouldn't be a teenager again, but it sounded like there was a glimmer of hope that maybe I wouldn't be a full fledged baby for the rest of the summer. But no hope for getting out of diapers though.
"I'll discuss it with your stepmother tomorrow and she what she thinks is best for you---a little girl or a baby girl. Now off you go. Go about your normal routines for now, except report to the nursery for bedtime. Campers in diapers, as you know, sleep there."
I headed for the door, only to be called back again by Ms Roberts. "Oh, one more thing Stephanie. I almost forgot. The temperature's ninety one degrees now and it's supposed to be a very warm evening. But if you find yourself getting chilly, just go to the nursery and they'll give you a baby blanket to cuddle and keep you warm."
I hoped I wouldn't need that.
As I waddled out the door, I heard her sarcastically say, "And remember Stephanie---DON'T keep dry! It's no longer possible for you."
It was late afternoon now. Dinnertime was about half an hour away and I spent the time just wandering about aimlessly around the camp, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
At dinner, "Wannabees" giggled and tittered girlishly at the sight of me. "Don't Wannabees" just outright laughed. But little was said.
After dinner, Lisa was waiting for me again outside the cafeteria. I recalled that she had said earlier that she had the "whole day open". And, unfortunately, she had meant it.
"Hi baby Stephie!" She said as she approached me. "Your baby outfit is absolutely precious!"
I said absolutely nothing.
"Stephie, I want you to do one more thing for me today." She said as she tweaked one of my pigtails.
I just groaned. "Please no more. Please just leave me be!"
"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport, baby." She giggled in reply. "Now, I want you to wet yourself."
"But I don't need to pee!" I lied, in a vain attempt to placate her. I really did have a bit of an urge to go.
She snarled, "Oh yes you DO need to pee or...."
I hesitated briefly, but then let loose with the waterworks. Before long, a very visible yellow stain on the front of my diapers could be clearly seen through my transparent vinyl diaper pants.
"Good baby! Enjoy the rest of your night Stephie. I'll hope to catch you tomorrow." Lisa laughed and left me alone in misery.
I waddled to the solitude of a nearby Maple tree and just sat under it sobbing. At least, I consoled myself, I didn't have a "brown" stain in my diapers.
I just sat there until it was time for the movie in the rec center. I'd find some anonymity in the darkness of the movie I hoped.
I waddled into the rec center to the sound of giggles. I sat in the back for privacy and to not offend anyone with the smell of my pee soaked diapers.
The movie ended early. There was still over an hour until lights out, but I decided to head for the nursery anyways. I was pooped, though thankfully not literally. I just wanted the comfort and security of a crib to fall asleep in.
At the nursery, one of the nannies from earlier laughed as I entered. "I'm glad you're here early, Little Miss Waterworks! You gotta get up earlier than normal tomorrow morning to get all prettied up for Parent's Weekend. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up and into dry diapers and into your crib."
The next morning, I was woken up by the nanny from last night about an hour before normal. I was surprised and relieved that I hadn't relieved myself at all in my diapers during the night.
She was surprised too, as she sniffed the air and reached her hand into the front of my diapers. "Ahhh! Good baby Stephie. Still clean and dry."
Although, none of it really mattered. I'd be wet and poopy sometime this day!
"Got a lot to do and only a little time to get you ready to meet your family this afternoon Stephie. Ms Roberts left special instructions to get you "all prettied up" for Parent's Weekend. So let's get moving." She happily said.
It didn't fall "happily" on my ears though. I dreaded having my stepmother and Laura see me "all prettied up".
I was undressed and put into a tub of very fragrant bubble bath, with a shower cap over my hair.
"I've got things to get ready for you Stephie. I think you're a big enough girl to wash yourself. But don't touch your hair. We'll take care of that later. Wash thoroughly and I'll be back for you in ten minutes." And she left me to bathe.
There was a clock on the wall and I noted the time--7:14AM. I did wash thoroughly and was done in under five minutes, so I just sat and soaked. But soon I felt the urge to pee.
"Perfect!!!" I thought, very pleased with myself.
At exactly 7:22, I stood up, looked all around to be sure the coast was clear, and peed as quickly and as hard as I could into the bath water. I hopped out of the tub before the pee could reach my feet and legs. And I pulled the tub drain.
At 7:24, the nanny returned right on cue to find me busy drying myself with a towel. "Good girl Stephie!"
"Clever girl Stephie!" I thought was more appropriate. I'd saved myself, at least, one less wet diaper today.
On the changing table, I was diapered heavily in cloth, just like yesterday, which meant "bowed legs" and "waddling" for me. But instead of the pink tinted, clear vinyl panties of yesterday, she tugged up my very gaudy and ruffled and prissy pink rhumba diaper panties. When she put the matching training bra on me, I knew I'd probably be a five year old today. Well, at least, that was better than being a full fledged little baby girl. Though only slightly better.
Next stop, in just my diapers and rhumba panties and bra, was the small camp beauty salon. Miss Baldwin, who was in charge of it, had long since returned from her absence. I remembered her well. She had given me my first permanent. She'd also given me my first sound spanking.
She washed and conditioned my hair. Then she lightly towel dried it and worked some setting gel into damp my curls.
She quickly but efficiently set it in rollers. As she blow dried my set, the nanny worked away on my finger and toe nails, restoring them to a candy pink polished gloss and shine.
When my hair and nails were finally dried, Miss Baldwin took a curling iron to my hair to create the nice, thick long wiener curls I'd had before. The nanny put pink anklets and pink, patent leather Mary Janes on my feet.
Miss Baldwin then combed out the bangs on my forehead and, using pink barrettes, fixed my wiener curls back a little, just behind my ears. That was a slight change in my "wiener curl" hairdo. And I'd soon find out, to my horror, that there was a specific purpose for it. She lightly sprayed hairspray all over my "coif" to hold it in place for the day.
Then she looked at her watch. "A little after ten, we're making good time." She said to the nanny, and then added, "Would you go get the special present for Stephie now and the things we'll need for it please?"
I cringed at the thought of a "special present".
Miss Baldwin explained. "When your stepmother sent your birthday present last month, she included a special gift for her special little girl. She put a note on it to save if for today."
I gulped as the nanny quickly returned carrying some sort of corded, almost g-n-like, needle device in one hand and a small bag of ice in the other. She set them down on the counter in front of the mirror. Then she reached into a pocket in her apron and pulled out a small, rectangular black jewelry box. She opened it up for me to see.
"No, no---please---no!!!" I squealed.
I recognized what the contents of the box was. It held a pair of gold heart earrings and a matching neck pendant with a single gold heart. My ears would need to be pierced to wear them.
"You can't do this to me!!! I won't let you!!! I'll be permanently marked for life!!!" And I started to bolt from the styling chair, only to be pulled back securely by Miss Baldwin.
"It's what your stepmother wants and so it's what you'll get Stephanie. And you never know, sweetie pie, it may be only the first of other permanent changes for you!" She said.
"My God, what does THAT mean???" I cried. And I struggled again to free myself.
She slapped my face hard and warned, "The next slaps will be across your bare girly bum, just like the last time, if you don't stop!"
A little before noon, I waddled toward the rec center where the parents were to meet their "boys".
Again, my ultra frilly, pink satin party dress danced atop the mountain of white organza petticoats. And my beribboned wiener curls also danced about the gold heart earrings prominently attached to my freshly pierced ears. The gold heart pendant dangled around my neck. A tear made its way down my lightly made up face to the corner of my pink glossed lips.
Ms Roberts was waiting for me at the entrance.
"Oh my goodness Stephanie!" She gushed as I approached. "You look positively adorable. Just like a little beauty pageant princess ready to walk on stage. Your stepmother and stepsister probably won't even recognize you!"
Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a small spray perfume and spritzed behind my ears and on my wrists.
She took my hand and said, "C'mon Precious! And don't forget to curtsey when you meet them."
The center was packed with campers and parents and siblings and a fair amount of Sunnyvale girls, as well.
All the campers, except for me and about half a dozen others, wore red plaid pleated skirts; which must have been the color of the day. And they each had a matching red plaid bow or ribbon placed somewhere in their hair. That was the first time I'd seen teenage campers in ribbons or bows. I figured it was probably because of the occasion. They almost looked like Catholic school girls.
The half dozen other campers looked "scary". Scary to me at least, in the sense that I might soon be one of them for the rest of my time at camp.
They all sat; strapped into large, over-sized baby strollers miserably su-king away on pacifiers or baby bottles. They were dressed in really, very "over the top", elaborate baby outfits with bonnets and booties to match. They were obviously very heavily diapered. Most were crying, probably from messy diapers or extreme humiliation or both. Even their parents and siblings, who were pushing them around, seemed embarrassed. It was the first time I'd seen the one year olds outside of the nursery.
Still clutching Ms Roberts' hand, we walked around in search of my stepmother and Laura. As we walked, I noticed that there were very few, if any, men around. Boys to be certain. Brothers of the campers. But no fathers that I could see.
But that actually made sense to me. What father, in his right mind, would allow his boy to attend this "sissy" camp. My own father, I was sure, knew I was at camp for the summer. But I was certain he didn't know what kind of camp this was.
We continued, in vain, to try to locate my stepmother and Laura. I thought about, with little guilt, the "car accident" that I'd wished for not very long ago.
Our search was interupted several times by many mothers and sisters of my fellow campers. They "oohed" and "ahhhed" and "gushed" and "oogled" over me. They all just couldn't seem to resist the urge to pinch my cheeks or fondle my curls or adjust with my dress and petticoats or straighten my hairbow. Some even made me bend over to get an even better look at my diaper packed rhumba panties. Stuff like that. Stuff that, in the real world, any woman or girl might do when presented with a five year old little girl so prissily dressed.
It was quite embarrassing, though not as much as it would be in the "real world" at least.
We continued our search, until at one point, I hesitated and pulled back slightly from Ms Roberts.
"You see them, don't you Stephanie." She said.
My hung head and lack of an answer was all the answer she needed.
"Where are they?"
No sooner said, she glanced toward the entrance and saw a mother and daughter just walking in, hand in hand.
"Ah, that must be them. Right Stephanie?"
And again, my lack of an answer was the answer. As we walked toward them, I purposely hung back a little and to the side of Ms Roberts, much like a shy little girl would do with her mother.
"Remember to curtsey Stephanie. And call her "mommy" like you did in your letter." She added.
"Hello, I'm Ms Roberts." She beamed. " Are you Mrs. Crandall?"
"Why yes I am. And this is my daughter Laura."
Laura just smiled as Ms Roberts and my stepmother shook hands.
"I know we've sort of met on the phone," Ms Roberts said, "but it's so nice to meet you in person. And your lovely daughter."
"Why thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you too!" My stepmother replied.
"You must be thrilled to see your son!" Ms Roberts said next.
"Well--ah--yes. I'm sure I will be." Stepmother answered. "Where is he?"
Ms Roberts then realized the "shy routine" I was pulling and let go of my hand and stepped a little away from me.
"Chin up sweetie!" She said to me.
Tears ran down my face as I looked up.
My stepmother looked down at me over the top of her glasses and squinted. Then she removed them and looked at me, very wide eyed in amazement.
"Oh my goodness. I didn't know who this was. Is that you Stephen--ah--I mean Stephanie? Is that REALLY you?"
I took the cue and with little enthusiasm, I curtseyed. "Hello mommy. Hello Laura."
Stepmother cupped my face in her hands, then moved them about my hair, gently fondling my wiener curls. As she moved down to feel the fullness of my petticoated dress, she continued. "Oh Ms Roberts, he looks so much like a real little girl that I didn't even recognize him. I can't believe this precious little "cherub" is Stephen. You've done wonders with him!"
"Thank you Mrs. Crandall." Ms Roberts replied.
"Laura honey, what do you think of your stepbrother--ah--I guess I should say sister?"
Laura had just been standing there, covering her wide opened mouth with her hand, staring in disbelief.
"He looks very pretty!" She giggled. "I wish I had a pretty dress like his. Can I get a dress like Stephen's mommy? Please! Pretty please!"
Stepmother laughed. "Sure honey, but not today. And remember, he's a she now Laura. She's Stephanie now, not Stephen."
"Oh, right." Laura tittered and added. "I've always wanted a little sister to play with!"
I groaned at the thought of that.
My stepmother then turned me around to get a better look. She knelt down and lifted up the back of my dress and petticoats.
"Oh my, what precious panties!" She said and she felt the back of them. "Is she in diapers???"
"Yes, I'm afraid so." Ms Roberts answered. "Stephanie's had a number of accidents since she's been here and, unfortunately, needs to wear them all the time."
"Diapers!!!" Laura laughed. "Stephanie's a baby! Stephanie's a baby!" She mocked.
"I'm not a baby!!!" I cried in protest.
"Hush up Laura. Don't make fun of your baby sister." Stepmother scolded.
I cried even more at the realization that I was now considered to be Laura's baby sister.
Ms Roberts quickly averted the situation and said to my stepmother, "Perhaps you and Laura would like something to eat. I know Stephanie's probably hungry. She missed breakfast this morning getting all prettied up for your visit. There's a nice brunch set up over there." And she pointed to the buffet set up near the stage.
"Yes, thank you Ms Roberts. That'd be nice." Stepmother said. "And, by the way, thank you for doing the earrings and necklace. They look very lovely on him."
"My pleasure Mrs. Crandall. Enjoy the brunch. We'll talk later." And she left us.
"Take your little sister's hand Laura." And my stepmother took the other. We headed for the buffet table.
"Mommy, why is Stephen walking so funny?" Laura asked referring to my pronounced waddle.
"It's Stephanie now Laura! And don't you worry about that."
"Mommy, everything about him bounces. Even his hair!" She was unrelenting.
"It's HER, not HIM Laura. And for God's sake, mind your own business!" She scolded.
As we reached the buffet line, Laura asked me in naive but genuine sincerity, "Don't you just love being a girl now Stephen and getting to wear pretty dresses and things?"
"Isn't having your hair done up in ribbons and curls fun?" She asked next.
"Do you really wet and poop your diapers?"
"Stop it right now Laura!" My stepmother warned. "Or you might well find yourself in diapers!"
You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum