This is a sequel to my first story, "Forced to Dress up!"
Forced To Dress Up II
by Kim Babe
For a couple of months I had been meeting Nancy at her house to dress when everyone else was gone. On this particular day my best friend, David, was away for weekend with his father and Mrs. Jennings wasn't going to be back home until late that evening. That meant an entire day to lounge around in women's clothes and act girlish. Why Nancy let me dress in her clothes I don't really know. She had her reason and I didn't ask for fear I might not like the answer. It was obvious she got some enjoyment out of dressing me up. She used to giggle and compliment me on how pretty I looked, but she never directly made fun of me. She took what we did very serious, making sure I looked natural and not clownish in appearance. That fateful morning had started like the others. I had shown up early and Nancy had practically dragged me upstairs to her room. It didn't take long before I was dressed in one of her outfits, complete with makeup and her mother's wig. Like previous mornings, everything was going fine and we were having a great time until she walked in.
"Well, well, what have we here?" The tone was cold and harsh.
Nancy was startled. "Mom! You were supposed to be gone all day."
"That's what I wanted you to believe, dear. I've noticed you've been acting very strangely lately and was curious to know why. So, who's your friend?"
I kept my face turned away from Mrs. Jennings. At the moment, I was dressed in a black skirt and frilly white blouse. The dark nylons belonged to Nancy, but the high heel shoes and blonde wig were the property of her mothers.
"You haven't met her," Nancy answered nervously.
"Oh, I'm sure I have," she responded with bitterness. "But since you think otherwise, why don't you introducing me to HER!"
Nancy shifted nervously from one foot to the other. I continued to stand there like a statue. The fact was, I was too afraid to move. "Well, I'm waiting," she snapped at her daughter.
"Mom, this is…Kim." In the mirror I caught Mrs. Jennings reaction. Her lips grew tight and her face wrathful. How could such a pretty woman look so frightening? There was no doubt that she was attractive. Even being close to forty Mrs. Jennings was a looker. Her thin, yet well-proportioned body was the wet dreams of many teenage boys, including myself. Her short, blonde hair was feathered in front and appeared silky soft in the sunlight. Mrs. Jennings also knew how to use makeup to highlight all her feminine features. It made me wonder if she wasn't a model before she married. And although she wasn't tall, she was still an inch or two taller than me (I'm only 5'5"). Unfortunately I had a body similar to hers, minus the curves.
"Is that so," she said softly. "Kim, or Kimberly?"
"Answer the question young lady!"
"Kimberly," Nancy whispered as she lowered her eyes. She knew she was in deep trouble
"See, I do know her," she replied. Then Mrs. Jennings turned her attention to me. "Okay 'Kimberly'. Let me see how you look this time."
Slowly I turned to face her. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. I was so ashamed and scared that I choose to stare down at the ground instead. Suddenly a hand grabbed my chin and jerked it up in a rough manner. I saw a very angry Mrs. Jennings staring back at me. Her voice was menacing and sarcastic. "Look at me so I can see your pretty little face, Kimberly. My, my, you are a sweet looking thing, aren't you?"
I stood there stiffly, afraid to say anything. What could I say? I was standing in her daughter's room wearing her clothes. Obviously Mrs. Jennings wasn't going to be happy with anything I had to say. She let go of my chin and I let it drop again. "So, who wants to start first?" Despite her anger she was remarkably calm.
"He talked me into dressing him this way," Nancy blurted out. I turned my head, my mouth open in shock. A cold child ran down my spine as Nancy tried putting all the blame on me.
"That doesn't explain why you went along with it," her mother responded.
"He offered me money to dress him up."
She glanced over at me harshly. "Is this true?"
"No, it's not." By this time I was almost in tears and decided to lie through my teeth. "Nancy said if I didn't try on her clothes she was going to tell others about me wearing your wedding dress."
"That's a lie," Nancy shot back. "Okay, I kind of liked the idea of having a baby sister to dress up but he came to me."
"I see." Mrs. Jennings frowned and pointed her finger at me. "You! Go stand in the hallway until I'm ready for you."
I swallowed hard and walked out of the room wondering what she was going to do to me. My legs felt like rubber and I was shaking from head to toe. I had screwed up big time. There was no way I was getting out of this mess. As I stood there nervously rubbing my hands against the smooth, leather skirt I tried listening to what Mrs. Jennings was saying. It sounded like she was giving Nancy a set of instructions. Then she joined me in the hallway and grabbed my arm. "Come with me young lady."
I was led into her bedroom where she sat me on the bed. Staring down at me with intense eyes, Mrs. Jennings pointed her finger and said, "One of you is lying, or maybe it's both of you. Either way I'm going to get to the bottom of this. Now, answer this question honestly. Do you like dressing like a girl?"
"No Mrs. Jennings. I don't like dressing as a girl."
"I don't believe you," she snapped. "That's why I came up with this test. I've been reading up on transvestites. I learned they like to dress for sexual gratification. Now, a regular boy would be turned off wearing something feminine and silky, but it would have an opposite affect on a transvestite. It would drive them crazy. So here's what I'm going to do. You're going to put this on."
She handed me a long, cream-color nightgown with a matching robe that had been lying on her dresser. In between the two garments was a pair of her white, nylon panties lavished with lace. I found myself getting hard at the though of wearing them.
"These are mine," she explained less harshly. "You're going to put them on and crawl into my bed. If you can wear these things for 30 minutes without jacking off, then I'll know you were telling me the truth. Any questions?"
I shook my head and stared down at the frilly, silky things I would soon be wearing. She was right, it was starting to drive me crazy.
"Good," she smiled, the hardness from before now completely gone. It should've been a clue that something was wrong but I was just thankful she wasn't yelling at me anymore. "I'll close the blinds while you change. Just let me know when it's okay to look."
Quickly I stripped out of the clothes I had on except for the padded bra. I slid the panties over my penis that was getting harder by the moment. Next came the nightgown followed by the robe. Her nightwear sent shivers up and down my spine and I knew wearing them for 30 minutes without jerking off was going to be almost impossible. That's when everything changed. Mrs. Jennings turned and actually smiled at me. I don't mean a polite smile; I mean one of those cute, approving smiles.
Nodding she said, "You look very pretty, Kimberly. Now a couple of things to make this more enjoyable for you." She picked up some lipstick and start applying it heavily to my lips – so heavy that I could taste it. Then she generously sprayed perfume over my body until I smelled like a bed of flowers. Turning me around and patting me on the rear she whispered encouragingly, "Okay sweetie, off to bed."
Mrs. Jennings pushed me over to the bed, then pulled the blanket back and patted the place where I was to lay. Bewildered by her actions, I scooted under the sheets while trying to hide the fact that her actions were turning me on. She lovingly tucked me in and ran her hand over my forehead.
"There you go, Kimberly," she said ever so sweetly. "Just relax and be a good girl. You really do look pretty." Flipping off the lights, Mrs. Jennings took a seat on the bed next to me. "You seem tense, Kimberly. Let me help you relax. Rollover sweetheart!"
I obeyed her command, which seemed to make her happier. "That's right, Kimberly," she cooed. "Good girl. Now relax and think of feminine thoughts. Frilly dresses, poofy petticoats, silky panties. Doesn't that sound good to you?"
Her hands touch my shoulders and gently started massaging them. My penis was rock hard as it pushed against the silky material I was wearing. I was going nuts and was unable to think straight. She continued to seduce me into her trap. Leaning close, she whispered seductively, "I bet that feels pretty darn good, doesn't it Kimberly? Girls love the touch of silk against their skin. It makes us feel so girlish. We can't help ourselves when dressed this way."
It was a struggle to lie there and take it. Every time I shifted my penis cried out to be relieved. Mrs. Jennings knew exactly what was going on and continued her seduction. "It's okay, Kimberly. Be a good girl and cum for me. You know you want to."
My mouth went dry and sweat poured from every part of my body. I had never wanted to masturbate so badly, and Mrs. Jennings didn't let up. She continued to talk in a soft, yet sexual way. After a while she told me to roll over, and in the little light there was I saw her smile with joy. She reached underneath the blanket and I felt her place something silky over my nylon-covered penis. She moved the silky item back and forth over my harden penis while her sweet voice continued to encourage me to masturbate.
"Come on now Kimberly. Be a good girl! Cum for me. After you do then we can begin your journey into the female world. I got something extra special for you to wear. It's silky and lacey, and so feminine. I know you're going to love wearing it. Be a good girl now, Kimberly. Be a good girl and cum. Do what mommy commands you to do, you sweet, little girl. Be a good girl, Kimberly."
The last sentences drove me over the line. My groin started jerking and pushing hard against her hand, signaling it was only a matter of seconds now. Mrs. Jennings increased the speed of her rubbing and continued to coax me on. "Be a good girl, Kim. Cum for me, cum for me."
There was no way to stop my reaction, not that I wanted too. My penis started pumping and Mrs. Jennings grabbed it with her hand. "Good girl, Kimberly, good girl," she praised joyously over and over again while jerking my dick to help me ejaculate. I cried out in ecstasy. It felt so damn good.
She continued to jerk me off, never stopping her words of encouragement. Only when I was completely spent did she release her grip. Smiling, she commented, "Bet that felt pretty good, didn't it!"
"God yes," I agreed.
"Good," she said becoming very stern. "Now take a quick shower and put on the pink robe hanging on the door."
Her sudden changed caught me off guard. "Why…why the robe? Can't I change back into my clothes now?"
"Of course not," she smiled. "You had the fun, now it's time for the game. Now do as I say young 'lady'."
Her tone left no room for discussion. Truthfully, I was too afraid to disobey her. I removed the soiled nightgown and panties and took a shower as she commanded. When I re-entered the bedroom Mrs. Jennings smiled in a mean sort of way. Holding onto my chin and staring me in the eyes she said, "Now that all your 'boy juices' are gone, you can get a true idea of what it's like to be a girl."
"Wait, you mean…I have to wear a dress? I don't want to."
"Of course you don't," she agreed. "I read all about it. Once a crossdresser masturbates they no longer want to dress up anymore. In fact many feel ashamed and guilty for wearing women's clothes and can't wait to get out of them. I understand, and want to help you with your problem. You have this fantasy about how wonderful it is to dress and act like a girl. That's why I'm going to force you to dress like a girl the rest of the day. Not only dress like one, but also do all kind of girl things. Which is why I'm starting you out at the beginning. Here, let me show you your new clothes."
Mrs. Jennings laughed as she pulled something from a bag lying on the bed. My face went white with terror. It couldn't be. "A…a diap…DIAPER!"
"Pretty, isn't it," she smirked while holding it closer to my face so I could get a better look. It was your average, thick cotton diaper that was already hooked together with yellow ducky safety pins. All that was needed was for someone to step into it, and I had no doubts that that was exactly what she planned on having me do. "Just think, in a few moments you'll be wearing this. Once you put it on I'll adjust the side so it'll be all snug and secure. Of course I won't do that until after I powdered you."
My ears burned in embarrassment, and in one of those rare moments I developed a backbone. "I won't put that on, Mrs. Jennings. I won't let you embarrass me that way."
"Then I'll call your mother," she countered in a matter of fact tone. "I'll tell her I came home and found you jacking off in my nightgown and panties. What do you think she'll do then, Jim? This isn't a game, little man! You will put on this diaper or I will call your mother right NOW! Besides, I'm doing this for your own good."
"You think making me feel foolish is for my own good?"
"Yes, I do," she nodded. "It's clear you won't stop trying on our clothes unless you have some negative feedback to fall back on. That's what I intend to do. I'm going to treat you like the girl in your sexual fantasies, only it won't be as pleasant as you dreamed it to be. I'm sure that after a while you'll get tried of playing with dolls, watching children's programs, and being treated like a little girl. You see I made the mistake of not making you jerk off first before wearing my wedding dress. That only made the experience more enjoyable. I'm going to correct that problem. Now put on your diaper, LITTLE GIRL!"
"Please," I begged.
"NOW!" she ordered crossly. My will to resist broke. I took the diaper from her and slowly stepped into it. Reluctantly I pulled it up to my waist.
"There, doesn't that feel better being wrapped in a nice, warm diaper?" she mocked. "Since you don't need my robe anymore, take it off and place it on the bed."
"I…I don't want to," I sniffed.
"No one asked what you wanted," she snapped. "Now take off the robe and stop wasting time."
I slid one hand out and then the other, all the time being carefully to keep the main part of the robe wrapped around my waist. Mrs. Jennings would have none of that. She snatched the robe away with one, good pull. My ears burned in embarrassment as I stood in front of her with nothing on but that stupid diaper. She motioned me to turn around, and I felt the diaper being pulled away from my butt. There was a squirting sound followed by the cool touch of fresh baby power hitting my skin. She reached around and did the same to the front, being carefully not to look down into it. With each squirt puffs of the fine, white powder rose from inside. When completed, she pointed to the bed.
"Lay on your back with your hands to your side," she commanded. Nervously I did just as she ordered. Mrs. Jennings reached down and undid one of the safety pins. Holding the loose ends tightly, she pinned them together to make the diaper snugger. Then she did the same with the other side, but not before squirting some more powder into the front of the diaper.
"There, all secure," she announced. "Now lay real still little baby while I get your outfit."
Mrs. Jennings went to her closet and returned holding a baby dress (in my size) with a huge lacy bonnet and a pair of puffy panties. "How fortunate I was able to borrow this outfit from a friend who went to a Halloween party as a baby last year, huh Kimberly?"
"For some time. One of my neighbors noticed you coming over whenever Nancy was alone. She thought the two of you were dating, but I knew better. Now, lift your feet."
Mrs. Jennings produced a pair of rubber baby pants and slid them over me. Next I had to stand as she worked a pair of pink tights up my legs. The tights had a flower design imprinted on the outside to give them a little girl appearance. After that was done Mrs. Jennings grabbed the pink panties from the pile. They were made of nylon and had rows of white ruffles attached to the butt. She made me lay back down and stood over me smiling while stretching the panties in front of me. "Don't your panties look so precious, little girl? Hold still now."
Mrs. Jennings placed my legs through the holes and jerked the panties over the diaper. Afterwards she went around the waistband snapping it to make sure the panties were positioned correctly over the diaper. I was then ordered to sit up and lift my arms in the air. She approached with a lacy white petticoat that looked like something you would wear under a square dancing dress. When I saw the petticoat and the evil smile planted on her lips I had to say something. The situation was getting way too embarrassing for me to let this continue.
"Please, not that," I begged. "It's bad enough I have to wear this stupid diaper."
"It's not stupid, it's necessary," she explained crisply. "Little girls wet themselves and need protection. You are a little girl, so you need a diaper. You also need clothes, otherwise you'll catch a cold."
"Please Mrs. Jennings."
"Please what?" she mocked. "You wanted to be a girl and now you're getting your chance."
"But…but I don't want to dress like a girl anymore."
"Then you should've controlled yourself young lady. I promise, I'm going to turn you into the cutest, sweetest looking little girl there ever was."
"What would it take for you to stop?"
Her lips grew tight at the question. In a low, temper tone she said, "Do as I say and 'maybe' I'll take it easy on you. This isn't how I wanted to spend my day, but I can't have you sneaking over here trying on my 'DRESSES', can I? Would you rather I tell your mother and let her deal with your 'little' problem?"
"No," I whimpered.
"Then hands up little girl! You have a full day ahead."
Mrs. Jennings stuffed the petticoat over my head and pulled it down firmly. She was more careful when sliding the ruffled baby dress over me. It was very cute and feminine looking. The dress was made of soft, pink bridal satin accented with white lace. The bodice had a rounded neckline trimmed with ribbons and bridal beads, and a furry white bunny with the words, "Mommy's little angel" embroidered underneath. The large, puff sleeves were adorned with tiny bows and ruffled lace. A flair skirt, spacious enough to handle the fullest petticoat, was attached with elastic at the waist for an easy yet snug fit. Encircling the waist was a wide, pink satin ribbon with a huge, pink bow in the back. Mrs. Jennings tugged on the dress that barely covered my panties with a distain expression. I sat there looking miserable at her, hoping she would take pity on me
"Oh, don't be such a 'baby'," she laughed scornfully. "This is what you wanted, remember. A few more things."
A big, floppy bonnet was pushed over my head and tied around my chin. Like the dress, it was pink with white lace trimming sticking up along the brim. Vintage satin ribbons tied the bonnet together. It was the ultimate in baby wear.
"Let's see, I have shoes but I think we'll try these instead."
Mrs. Jennings held out a pair of pink booties with white lace for me to see. I lay there as she slid the booties over my feet and tied them tightly. Once done, she backed away and grinned mischievously. "Okay Kimberly, I want you to kick your hands and feet in the air," she said sweetly.
"Do I have to?"
"YES!" she demanded forcefully and turning back into Mrs. Hyde. Her ability to turn her anger on and off was like someone flipping a switch. "Now do as I say and kick your hands and feet! Oh, and make sure you gurgle like a baby when you do."
"No, I won't humiliate myself that way."
"Let me think, what is your mothers phone number again? I'm sure she would love to see you dressed this way."
"Okay, I…I'll do it," I relented.
Swallowing what little pride I had left, I started jerking my hands and legs like she had ordered. I even managed a low gurgle. The results of my actions were what I expected. Mrs. Jennings clapped her hands and laughed, "Oh my, HOW PRECIOUS! What an ADORABLE little baby. Is Kimberly a happy baby? Yes she is. She's our little sweetems. I know what will make baby Kimberly even happier. Yes I do…yes I do. Here you go sweetie." Mrs. Jennings pulled an oversized, pink pacifier from her pocket and stuck it in my mouth. "There, now the picture is complete."
I lay there sucking on the pacifier in total humiliation. Unfortunately, Mrs. Jennings wasn't done with me yet. "Would baby Kimberly like her blankie?" she cooed as if talking to a real baby. She handed me a pink blanket with teddy bears on it and smiled "There you go, sweetheart. Now, lets go downstairs so your big sister can see you."
She took my hand and led me down the steps. By the time we got to the bottom she was practically dragging me along. "My, my, baby doesn't seem too happy to be here. Does baby need me to call her 'real' mommy and have her come get you," she asked sweetly. Immediately my resistance stopped. "Nancy, are you ready?" she called out.
"Yes Mom. I got everything set up like you asked. Is 'she' ready?"
"Ready and willing," Mrs. Jennings replied while pulling me in front of her. I felt two strong hands rest firmly on my diapered butt and push me down the hallway. Whispering she said, "There, go along there, Kimberly. Big sister Nancy is anxious to see her little baby sister." With a final, strong push I found myself waddling into the kitchen. When Nancy caught sight of me she roared with delight.
"Oh, you look so CUTE, Kimberly," she laughed. "What a PRETTY little GIRL! Do you want your big sister to take care of you?"
I turned to get away but Mrs. Jennings blocked my exit. Suddenly a hand grabbed my arm and turned me around. "Oh no you don't little girl," Nancy giggled. "I want to get a good look at my baby sister. Stand still you."
Nancy looked at me carefully from head to toe, and suddenly her eyes went wide with disbelief when she saw my panties bulging. Before I could react Nancy reached down and placed her hand underneath my panties. A thin smile appeared on her lips. "Oh my gosh mom! You mean to tell me he's wearing a DIAPER?"
"She is wearing a diaper," Mrs. Jennings corrected. "You said you wanted a baby sister, so here you go? She is yours to take care of."
Nancy started clapping her hands and laughing loud and hard. "Oh man, how 'embarrassing'! Wearing diapers and this girlie outfit. I wish my friends were here to see you. You make such a cute little baby girl, Kimberly. We are going to have so much fun today."
"Yes, the two you will," her mother said coolly. "Nancy, put your sister in the playpen and make sure she has something to do. I need to see you in private."
"Sure mom," she snickered. Nancy dragged me over to the playpen and almost pushed me in. Then she handed me a toy. "Here's a pretty rattle for you to play with. I'll be right back 'baby'."
"Don't even think of climbing out of there," Mrs. Jennings warned me in the strongest, possible terms. "If you do I'll be forced to call a certain someone, understand?"
Shamefully I lowered my head and nodded. The two of them disappeared with Nancy still giggling. There was some little kids show on the TV with talking animals. I sat there watching, not knowing what else to do. I only hoped that whatever the two of them had planned it never got out to anyone else. Twenty minutes passed and I was beginning to wonder what was going on when I heard them coming back. My eyes went wide when Mrs. Jennings walked into the room holding her daughters hand. Nancy was now dressed like a little girl, complete with white tights and a pair of shinny, black Mary Jane's. The dress she had on was a short and royal blue satin, with puff sleeves and a white ribbon around the waist. A large, satin bow hung off the back of the dress and the ribbons reached down to the hem of her skirt. A stiff petticoat made the skirt spread out and sash shay as Nancy walked; a fact that she was quite aware of and didn't like one bit. Her long, blonde hair was tied with blue ribbons into two, cute pigtails. Nancy looked like a perfect little girl dressed that way. It was also evident that she was very unhappy with the way she was dressed.
"I decided that since my daughter was involved she should be a part of this. Kimberly, this is your older, but still young sister. As you can see, she gets to wear big girl panties. Nancy, lift your dress so Kimberly can see them better."
"Mom," she protested in embarrassment.
"Do as I say," she hissed. Nancy obeyed, lifting the dress and frilly petticoat so I could get a good look. The panties were blue nylon with white ruffles attached.
"That's good dear. Now, let me explain the rules. Nancy is the big sister. That means she's in charge of entertaining her younger sister. I expect both of you to play as nice little girls should. If I hear you fighting I will only add to the time you stay dressed this way. If one gets into trouble, you both have to pay for it."
"When does our punishment end?" Nancy protested.
"It's not punishment," her mother corrected. "It's a corrective measure to help you learn to respect yourselves. But to answer your question, I created a list that both of you must complete. Once the list is done, then, and only then, will your trip to little girl land end."
"What happens if I get done before Kimberly here?" I blushed over Nancy using my girl's name.
"Nothing, since both of you are part of this experience. It's all for one and one for all. Here's your list, Nancy."
Nancy looked over the list and her eyes went big. "Mom, you want me to play with my Barbie dolls? I haven't played with dolls since I was eight."
"Well now you're eight," she replied. "Since Kimberly is a baby," Mrs. Jennings smirked at me, "you can read to her what's on her list. Oh, and Kimberly, little babies don't talk so I don't expect to hear a word from you until I say it's okay. All right Nancy, why don't you read off some of the things on Kimberly's list! You'll see many of them involve you as well."
Nancy looked at the list and rattled off a few things. "Play with my dolls for an hour, be read books too, be fed baby food, drink a bottle, take a nap." Suddenly her eyes went big. "Mom, you can't be serious about this one."
She flashed me an evil, wicked grin. "I most certainly am."
I pulled out my pacifier forgetting that I wasn't supposed to talk. Whatever she had planned didn't sound good and I desperately wanted to know. "What is it?"
"Awww, I warned you to keep quiet," Mrs. Jennings wagged her finger at me. "That will be another bottle Nancy will have to feed you."
"What, that's no fair," Nancy protested. "Thanks a lot you sissy boy!"
"Tisk, tisk. Temper tantrums are very bad and unbecoming of a good little girl," Mrs. Jennings shook her head. "Now both of you will play with your dolls for an additional 30 minutes to help you become 'good girls'. Anymore rules the two of you want to break?"
"No mom," Nancy replied. I placed the pacifier back in my mouth and shook my head.
"Okay then, you can tell Kimberly about this later. Just remember, if you don't do as I say the punishment gets longer for both of you. Now Nancy, since you wanted a little sister why don't you get in the playpen and read her this story." Mrs. Jennings handed her the book, Peter Cotton tail. "Don't worry dear, I have more books just like this one for you to read to her."
Nancy looked at the playpen a little uncomfortable. "Can't I read to her on the couch, mom? I really don't want to get in a playpen."
"Are you sassing me young lady?" she shot back in an angry tone.
"No mom," Nancy replied dejectedly.
"Call me mommy, dear. It's more appropriate for your age."
"Good girl. Now get in there and read that book to your sister. Oh, and make sure she snuggles up next to you. You'll look cute doing so."
Nancy sat down in the playpen and placed my head against her chest. Actually it was nice having my head resting on her large, warm breast. She opened the book and started reading to me. Mrs. Jennings sat nearby smiling. When that book was done she handed Nancy another, and then another after that. Little red riding hood, Cinderella, the three little pigs. They were all cute little books meant to entertain a child. When Mrs. Jennings stepped out of the room momentarily Nancy dug her elbow into my side.
"Thanks a lot you big sissy freak. See the mess you gotten me into? Why didn't you take your medicine like a man instead of including me in the blame?"
I removed the pacifier to speak. "This was your idea too."
"But you were the one who wanted to dress like a girl. All I did was help."
"DO I HEAR FIGHTING IN THERE?" Mrs. Jennings voice boomed from another room.
"Um, no mommy. Kimberly is fussing a little. I think she's hungry."
Mrs. Jennings appeared by the playpen and smiled. "Of course she is. Since our little girl has an 'extra' bottle to drink, I guess now is as good of time as any. Nancy, help your sister to the couch and wrap her blankie around her while I warm up her bottle."
"Yes mommy," she grinned with sweet revenge. "Come with me, Kimberly." She took hold of my hand and pulled me out of the playpen. Laying the blanket on the couch, she ordered me onto it. After doing as she said, Nancy wrapped the ends around my body. "There, all snug as a bug."
Mrs. Jennings came in carrying an extra large bottle in her hands. "Nancy, sit on the couch so your sister's head is on your lap." I lifted my head slightly as she sat down and smoothed out her skirt and petticoat. "Okay, now put your arm under her and support her back and head. Then you'll be ready to feed her."
I felt Nancy's hand reach under me and pull me close to her breasts. They looked even bigger from this view and perfectly balanced. Suddenly the bottle was thrust into my mouth and I felt a soft, warm nipple crossed my lips. A few drops of warm milk spilled onto my tongue. At least it wasn't baby formula "There you go, Kimberly," Nancy cooed. "Drink it all down."
I started sucking on the bottle as fast as I could, not that it did much good. The nipple opening wasn't very big making it difficult. Despite this, Mrs. Jennings stopped me. "If you drink it down too fast I'll assume you're hungry and give you more. I want this bottle to last at least 30 minutes, and I'll be timing you." Then she turned her attention to her daughter. "Nancy, I bet your sister would drink her bottle better if you sang her some nursery songs."
"Mom," she pleaded.
"What?" her mother snapped back. I prayed Nancy didn't lose it. This certainly wasn't a picnic for me either.
"I mean mommy," she corrected. "Why do I have to sing to her?"
Mrs. Jennings stern face became softer again. "Because that's what big sisters do. I used to sing to my brother when I fed him. You don't have a problem doing this, do you dear?"
"No mommy," she pouted to make her true feelings known. Blushing, she softly started singing rock-a-bye baby to me. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see her staring down at me. Slowly I sucked on the bottle and tried to forget how embarrassing this all was. How could things get any worse? Nancy continued to sing as I drank down the warm milk. Mrs. Jennings came over a couple of times to cover me after the blanket slipped off. I just lay there with my eyes close. Time went by so slowly. I guess Nancy was watching the clock, because when the thirty minutes were up she pulled the bottle from my mouth.
"She's not done," Mrs. Jennings pointed out.
"But you said I only had to feed her for thirty minutes," Nancy protested.
"No, I said she had to take 'at least' thirty minutes to finish the bottle or I would fix her another," Mrs. Jennings explained patiently. "She needs to finish the entire bottle dear."
Suddenly the bottle was thrust angrily back into my mouth. Nancy glared at me as she sang another song, urging me on. I tired, but I was full and it wasn't easy to keep sucking and swallowing after doing it for so long. It took another 10 minutes before I finished the rest of the bottle. "She's done, mommy."
"Very good, dear. Now roll your sister over and burp her."
I suddenly found myself being maneuvered roughly onto my stomach, followed by Nancy patting me on the back. I tried faking a couple of burps, but Mrs. Jennings insisted on a real on. Finally I was able to get one out.
"Very good you two," Mrs. Jennings praised. "That's one thing off your list. Nancy, I noticed your sister looks tired. Why don't you lay her back down in her playpen for a nap? Oh, and make sure you sing her to sleep."
"Sure mom." Nancy grabbed my hand and led me over to the playpen. She helped me back in (not easy wearing that thick diaper) and joined me. After I was lying down she covered me with my blanket and gently patted me on the back while singing. I lay perfectly still, feeling relax as Nancy continued to pat and rub her hands over my back. It actually wasn't that bad if you didn't take into account that I was wearing a diaper. After a while I started feeling a slight pain in my groin. I guess all that milk had gone right through me and I found I needed to pee real badly. I moaned and pointed to my diaper.
Mrs. Jennings stopped what she was doing, smiled, and clasped her hands in an understanding manner. "Do you have to go to the bathroom little girl?" I nodded. "Number one?" she questioned. I nodded again. "Badly?" This time I nodded my head vigorously. "Then be my guest," she chuckled. My face went white and I shook my head 'no' in horror.
"Yes," she replied firmly. "Little babies don't use the potty, they use their diaper. Now don't you worry, I made sure that when you do wet yourself that you would be as comfortable as possible, just like a 'real' baby. The powder will help keep you all nice and dry while the diaper absorbs the rest. Then after you're done we'll put you in a fresh diaper and you'll be all better again. Isn't that grand, Kimberly?" Mrs. Jennings gave me a huge smile.
I pleaded with my eyes not to make me use my diaper. Mrs. Jennings chuckled and shook her head. "Modesty and pride, huh? You feel you're too big to use the diaper, is that it? Well, we do have a 'big' girls potty I could set up in the middle of the room. Would that make you feel better?" I vigorously shook my head that it wouldn't. In fact that would've been far more embarrassing.
"Then I suppose you have no choice 'but' to use your diaper," she pointed out. "Don't be ashamed Kimberly, we understand how little babies operate. Nancy, why don't you help your sister with her current situation?"
"Talk to her gently and softly. Make her feel more comfortable with the idea of wetting in her diaper. Let her know it's okay to go pee-pee in it. Oh, and Kimberly, I expect you to cry to let us know when you're wet." Mrs. Jennings smirked and sat in her chair to observe our progress.
Nancy giggled as she rubbed my back in an up and down fashion. Then she whispered, "It's okay, Kimberly. It's okay. Mommy will change your diaper after you go."
She switched to patting me on the butt and I could feel the diaper pressing against my skin. A cold, uncomfortable chill rocked my body. As pressure grew, so did the pain and the humiliation of my options. Nancy never let up, urging me on.
"When you go, the powder will help pull the wetness away while giving your diaper a chance to absorb everything," she explained in a monotone voice. "That's what the diaper's purpose is for, Kimberly. See, it's okay to use it for the reason you need to. Why do you think my mommy put a diaper on you in the first place? So you could go and feel secure about doing so. Go ahead, be a good baby and tinkle for us."
Now I didn't know which was more embarrassing; peeing in a diaper or having to do it in front of them. I looked at Mrs. Jennings who was sitting in a chair reading a magazine. Every time she turned the page she would give me a smirk. By now the pressure was growing intense. I laid my forehead against the soft mat of the playpen to fight back. Nancy sensed I was weakening and increased her efforts. She switched back and forth from rubbing my back to patting me gently on the butt, all the time encouraging me like a baby getting ready to take it's first step. "Good baby, good girl. It's okay Kimberly, it's okay. Time to go pee-pee. Be a good girl, Kimberly. That's why mommy put a diaper on you in the first place. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Now be a good little baby, Kimberly and tinkle. You know you want to."
She was right, I did want to. By now I really had to fight to hold it in. I shifted my groin back and forth against the mattress, pressing so hard that it hurt my penis. It was stupid to try stopping something that was going to happen anyway. I knew I couldn't hold out forever and I had no choice but to use the diaper. Still, the thought of wetting myself was too embarrassing for me to give in. I continue to fight the need tooth and nail. Of course the problem only got worse as I did. After a bit Mrs. Jennings rose from her chair and stretched. "I'll be back in a moment girls. Mommy has to use the bathroom."
When she left the room Nancy lashed out at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing? For crying out loud, pee already. I know you have to! You keep squirming around like a worm on a hook. The sooner you wet your diaper then the sooner we can move on to something else and be that much closer to getting out of these clothes. Do you know how 'embarrassing' it is to be dressed this way?" She held out her short skirt and frilly petticoat to emphasis the point.
"I'm the one who's wearing a diaper," I countered while gritting my teeth.
"You probably are enjoy it," she hissed softly. "Now PEE IN YOUR DIAPER!"
"I can't, I just can't, Nancy."
"Swallow your pride and do it, Jim. For crying out loud, it can't be any worse than what you've been through so far. Okay, this is the most embarrassing thing you have to do but the rest of the stuff on her list won't be so bad."
"No," she answered. "So let's get pass this, okay? Is anything that I'm doing helping?"
"Yes, all of it's helping a little," I sniffed. "I'm just...ashamed. It's hard enough to pee laying down, but in front of others and in a diaper."
"Stop being a baby," she said and then giggled. "Or better yet, be a baby. Pretend that you real are one. Picture yourself being one year old. It might help. Or close your eyes, pretend you're somewhere else, and relieve yourself. Whatever it takes just do it. I'm getting tired of trying to make you go. Quiet now, my mom's coming."
Nancy went back to talking to me in a soft, gentle manner as if our previous conversation hadn't occurred. Mrs. Jennings walked over to the playpen and peered down at me. "Has she wet her diaper yet?"
"Not yet mommy," Nancy said sadly. "I'm doing the best I can."
"I'm sure you are sweetheart." Then she reached down and patted my diaper firmly to reinforce my situation. "Good girl, Kimberly. Mommy will be close by when you need me." Mrs. Jennings went back to her magazine like nothing was happening.
The pain was getting intense with every passing minute. The sharp, cold chills that had hit ever so often were occurring every few seconds. By now I knew the battle was lost and it was just a matter of time. I shifted on the mat several times and tried to prepare myself to let go. Closing my eyes, I pictured myself as a little baby just as Nancy suggested. I was dressed as I was now, only much smaller and helpless laying there in my playpen. I could feel my sister's hand patting my butt firmly in a reassuring manner. In fact I could sense the cool baby powder waiting for its chance to do its job. Suddenly I found myself at peace with my situation and let my bladder go. A warm liquid flowed and I tried not to think about what I was doing. I could feel it spreading quickly as the diaper pulled the moisture in. In the places where my skin began to feel wet, the baby powder quickly attacked it to provide some comfort. Everything was working together as planned; the diaper, the powder, the rubber pants to keep my dress from getting wet. MY DRESS? I don't wear dresses!
Suddenly I was thrust back into the real world. By now my pee was in full stream with no chance of being stopped. I tried hard to push myself back into the fantasy world but it was too late. I pressed hard against the pad of the playpen to stop peeing but all it did was slow things down and made it very painful. What made it worse was that Nancy picked up on what was happening and started praising me loudly.
"Good girl, Kimberly, GOOD GIRL. Mommy, she's going," Nancy announced like it was a blessed event. "She really is. Good girl, Kimberly. Good baby."
I buried my face and sucked hard on my pacifier as my body finished what it was doing. The entire front of me felt wet and sticky, especially with the powder now adhere to my skin. Not to mention smelly. I was sure I would need a shower to feel clean. When I finally looked up both women were smiling at me but for entirely different reasons. I swear my face turned twenty shades of red.
"I think she needs her diaper changed," Nancy giggled while holding her nose.
"She can't be that wet if she's not crying," Mrs. Jennings grinned. "Little Kimberly would be crying if she were uncomfortable, just like any other baby."
So not only did I have to wet in the diaper, I also had to cry like a little baby to be changed. It just kept getting worse and worse. Nancy nudged me in the side, and I started to sniff and then cry, only it wasn't good enough.
"You need to do better if you want me to pay attention to you," Mrs. Jennings commented while turning back to her magazine. Nancy nudged me again and gave me a stern, swift look of displeasure to do better. So I opened up, wailing at the top of my lungs and flailing my legs and feet around; all the time feeling very foolish over my actions.
"Someone has a temper," Mrs. Jennings commented as she put down her magazine. "Nancy, help your sister out of the playpen and upstairs. She needs to be changed."
Out of the playpen and up the stairs I went with Nancy holding onto my hand like I needed her help. I continued to cry because Mrs. Jennings warned me if I didn't she would make me wear the wet diaper for the rest of the day. By now the diaper was smelly, cold, and quite uncomfortable. I now understood why babies cried so much when they needed to be changed. I wanted to be warm and secure again like before. Mrs. Jennings placed a thick blanket on her bed and ordered me to lie down on top of it.
"Okay Nancy, your turn," she smiled while handing her daughter a white, folded diaper.
"Yes," her mother nodded. "Your baby sister needs her diaper changed. That's what big sisters do."
"You mean…but mom, he'll be naked."
"It's mommy and she, not he," her mother reprimanded in a harsh tone. "You just added another activity to your day.
"But mom…I mean mommy."
"No buts," Mrs. Jennings interrupted. "You wanted a little sister and now you're getting your chance. Now you change your sister's wet diaper or else."
Nancy made a face of disgust but took the diaper out of her mother's hand. She hovered over me with interest for a moment before reaching down. I felt my panties being pulled down followed by the tights and then the rubber pants. Silently she unpinned one side of the diaper followed by the other, acting like she was changing the diaper on one of her dolls. I closed my eyes and braced myself as she pulled the diaper off. My ears burned in embarrassment as Nancy slid another diaper under me without saying a word.
"You need to clean her off with these wipes," Mrs. Jennings instructed.
Something cool and wet was brushed around my groin and I felt the wet powder being removed from my skin. I burned red with embarrassment as Nancy took what seemed to be a long time finishing the job. Then the area was showered with more baby powder. The ends of the diaper were pulled firmed and pinned snugly around my waist. I was then redressed, minus the rubber pants that had been too wet to reuse.
"Very good," Mrs. Jennings praised her daughter. "See how happy you made your sister feel? Why don't the two of you give each other a hug!"
I think the last thing I wanted to do was hug the person who had just changed my wet diaper. I'm sure Nancy wasn't any happier but it wasn't like we had a choice in the matter. I leaned forward and Nancy embraced and patted me on the back.
"Very good, girls," Mrs. Jennings beamed. "Look at the time. Kimberly must be hungry again. Nancy, help your sister down the stairs.
Carefully I was taken back to the kitchen and placed in a highchair. After that I was fed real baby food. The food wasn't bad; it was the circumstances that were embarrassing. After Nancy had her lunch it was time for me to lie on her lap and drink another bottle of warm milk. She pushed the teat of the nibble between my lips and I distinctly remember praying that David didn't walk in unexpectedly and see me lying there in his sister's arms. When the last drop was gone and I had been properly burped, Mrs. Jennings grasped her hands happily.
"Well girls, I think it's time had a reward for being so good. Kimberly, you can talk now but since you're still a little girl I'm going to leave the diaper on. However, I do expect you to tell me when you have to go potty like a big girl. Nancy, go get your dolls so you 'girls' can play with them."
Nancy grumbled something under her breath and left the room. A few minutes later she came back carrying a box containing her dolls and their clothes. She picked out a cute little baby doll and thrust it into my arms. "Here, this is your baby," she said. You can play with her over there.
"No," Mrs. Jennings corrected. "I want you girls to play together. Wait, I got a better idea. Why don't we all have fun together? Sit there and be good, my little darlings."
"Oh shit," cursed Nancy after she left the room. "You're going to hate this."
Mrs. Jennings appeared moments later carrying a tea set. She sat it down on a small child's table in the corner and motioned for us to join her. Reluctantly we both did. "We're going to have a tea party," she said with a grin. "Now Kimberly, you sit here with your doll."
I pushed my petticoat aside and sat down clutching my stupid doll. I didn't want to hold a doll, and I sure as hell didn't want to attend a tea party pretending I was a little girl. The chair was hard but fortunately (or unfortunately) the diaper was rather thick and acted like a cushion. It also reminded me that I was still wearing the stupid thing.
"Okay Nancy, sit next to her." Nancy did the same and wasn't pleased to be playing like an 8-year-old. Her mother smiled at our uncomfortable-ness. She went into the kitchen and came back a plate of cookies. "Okay girls, let's have fun. Tell me about your baby, Nancy. I want to hear all about her."
Her daughter cringed and started rambling about her doll and how proud she was of it. Mrs. Jennings poured us some tea (fruit juice) and acted like she was interested in what was being said. Every now and then she would ask a question while talking down to Nancy as if she were only 8-years-old. I sat there taking notes because I knew my turn was coming. All too soon it did, and I had to recant everything I could about my doll and why I love it so much. Mrs. Jennings beamed with glee after I was done.
"So, tell us what kind of pretty dresses you like wearing, Kimberly."
"Pretty dresses?" I stuttered.
"Yes, like the one you have on, sweetie," Mrs. Jennings smiled in a mischievous manner. "Do you like dresses with ruffles or lots of lace?"
"Well, ruffles I…I guess."
"Yes, ruffles are nice," she commented. "They make anyone look girlish." She giggled momentarily and then forced herself to stop and be serious again. "So Kimberly, tell me about the perfect dress you would like to wear."
I didn't want to talk about my perfect dress. In fact I didn't want to be wearing one at the moment. I found the tea party, the playing with dolls, my dress, the diaper I was wearing, and the entire conversation completely humiliating. "Well, I guess it would have to be…be short…and have ruff…ruffles," I stuttered. Why was she making me do this?
"Yes," she nodded looking interested. "What else, Kimberly?"
"I…I don't know. Lace?"
"Yes, lace is nice, especially on a cute little girl like yourself. I bet pink dresses are your favorite, aren't they?" I nodded. "And I bet you can't wait to wear big girl panties, am I right?"
Mrs. Jennings almost lost it but someone managed to keep a straight face. She was enjoying humiliating me. "Well, I'm sure your diaper is comfortable and you don't want to give it up. Still, big girl panties are the first step to growing up." I blushed at her words, why couldn't she stop? "And one day you will have to give up your ruffles and petticoats too, but not today. You like wearing fluffy, frilly petticoats, don't you, Kimberly?"
I nodded but she commanded me to speak. "Yes, I guess I do."
"Good girl," Mrs. Jennings said sweetly. "And I bet you like playing with your dolly too, don't you? Tell me how much you enjoy it."
The questions continued, each more embarrassing than the next. A couple of times I tried changing the subject, but whenever I did Mrs. Jennings would get mad and threaten to call my mother if I didn't answer her questions. Like I said, she could turn her anger on and off like a light switch. Most of the time she acted happy and carefree. This was different from the last time when she had forced me to wear her wedding dress. I don't think she was really enjoying herself though. I think she thought it would humiliated me more if she treated me like a little girl. After a while she stopped asking questions and flashed me a big, evil smile.
"Kimberly," she told me sweetly, "your baby looks awful tired. Why don't you rock and sing your dolly to sleep."
"A bottle would help," Nancy suggested and then gave me a smirk.
"Why Nancy, what a wonderful idea," Mrs. Jennings agreed cheerfully. "Why don't you find a bottle for Kimberly's baby in your box…and one for yours as well."
"I mean, mommy. My baby doesn't need a nap."
"Sure she does, sweetie. I noticed she was getting tired too. Hand your baby over to Kimberly and find what you need."
Suddenly I found myself juggling two dolls in my arms. Nancy did a quick check of the box and came back with two bottles, one for my doll and one for hers. I placed the bottle in the dolls mouth and started rocking it in my arms. With Mrs. Jennings encouragement, I proceeded to sing it to sleep. It became impossible for Mrs. Jennings to keep a straight face anymore.
"Oh me or my," she clapped while roaring with delight. "If you two girls aren't the cutest thing to look at. If only you could see yourselves." Actually I had been watching Nancy and had a pretty good idea what we looked like – FOOLS! We continued to rock and sing to our dolls blushing furiously until finally Mrs. Jennings had enough.
"You can play with something else now," she said while picking up her tea set. "Just be good little girls and don't fight. You know what happens if you fight." We nodded that we did. "Good. Since you have been such good 'little girls' I'm going to take 15 minutes off your doll playing time, although you both looked like you're enjoying yourself. That leaves you with; oh I'm a good sport, only half an hour more. Get out your Barbie's and play with them until your time is up – unless you would rather continue with what you are doing."
Neither of us wanted that, and we were quick to drop our baby dolls and run to open the pink case where Nancy's Barbie's were located. Playing with her Barbie's was better, but not by much. I won't bore you with the details, other than it was a lot of talk about going on a date and changing outfits every five minutes. I suppose that's what little girls would do.
After are time was up with the dolls, Mrs. Jennings took us into the garage where we skipped rope, played jacks, and did other girl's games for a long time. I remember Nancy's petticoat and dress flying up whenever she jumped rope, and how embarrassed she looked when it did. Not that it was any better for me, but at least having them see my pretty pink panties was better than my diaper. By the time we were through playing girl games it was late afternoon. Mrs. Jennings made us stand in front of her.
"Well, I guess your punishment is up," she lectured us. "I hope you both learned a lesson but let's find out. Kimberly, what have you learned?"
"That I shouldn't try on your clothes?"
"That you shouldn't try on ANY women's clothes," she snapped. Then Mrs. Jennings calmed down and continued. "What I hoped you learned is the reality of being dressed like a girl is nothing like how you see it in your head. However, I'll accept your answer about not wearing my clothes, or Nancy's, ever again. What about you, Nancy?"
"That I shouldn't let any boys wear my clothes?"
Mrs. Jennings nodded. "I can live with that. Now go change, the both of you. Kimberly, you'll find your 'boy' clothes on my bed. Take off your clothes and place them on the bed. Then remove your diaper only after you started taking a shower. I don't want all that baby powder flying everywhere. Leave the wet diaper in the shower after you're done and get dress. Then come downstairs and sit in the living room until I'm ready. I have one more surprise left."
This should be where the story ends. The truth was, it was only the beginning. I showered, got dress, and gave the dress one last look before going downstairs. I figured I would never see the dress again, but I was so wrong. Nancy was already waiting on the couch. She glared at me like this day had been my fault. I guess it was more my fault than hers. Mrs. Jennings went upstairs after I came down and reappeared a few minutes later carrying two plastic bags. I was pretty sure one held the dresses and the other contained the dirty diapers. Well, at least now it was over I said to myself. There was a sharp knock on the front door. Mrs. Jennings paused to give me another stern glance before answering. "Come in," she told the person at the door. My mother walked in and frowned at me in disgust.
"Mom?" I asked in a shaky voice. The expression on her face told me I was in deep trouble.
"Here are his clothes," Mrs. Jennings said as she handed my mother the bags. "The diapers will need to be washed before he can wear them again."
When I heard the words I started to cry. She knew, my mother knew; and she was even less sympathetic of my feelings. "Stop crying," she commanded harshly.
"Here is the tape," Mrs. Jennings said crisply while handing her a small box. "It's all there except for when he was dressing. I'm sure you can find someone to edit it."
"How?" I asked.
Mrs. Jennings smirked at the question. "I had the camera hidden."
"But…but you promised you wouldn't tell!" I cried. I glanced over at Nancy who was in shock that her mother could do such a thing.
"I told you what would happen if you went through my things again," she pointed out coldly. "You should've listened to my warning. Besides, I made you no promise. What I said was that I would call your mother if you didn't cooperate. I never said I wouldn't call her after I was done with you."
"Wait until your father sees this tape," my mother hissed. I knew I was going to get the beating of a lifetime.
"No," I started crying. "Not him. Please mom."
"It was my fault," Nancy tried to defend me. She stood and faced my mother. "I blackmailed him into doing this just like he said."
"It doesn't matter, we all know my son likes dressing in women's clothes." My mother said the words like I had some kind of horrible disease. "First your mother's wedding dress and now this. Your mother was right to tell me when she found out you were helping my son with his perversion. You had no right to do this, nor were you helping him in any way. I had to pay a lot of money at the specialty shop for those outfits, the diapers, and everything else that went with it. My son is going to pay me back the money I spent. You see after reading up on the subject I devised a plan to break him of this bad habit. Your mother thought that you should be punished too, and was kind enough to help out. "
"Mom!" Nancy protested.
"It's for his own good," she defended herself. "He can't go around dressing in girls clothing. One day Jim will understand and thank me for telling his mother."
"A good idea, I want you to thank Mrs. Jennings for what she did today," my mother ordered. I sniffed and shook my head. "I SAID THANK HER! If you don't I'll make you wear this wet diaper home on the outside of your pants and everyone will know what a 'freak' you REALLY are!"
I knew the threat was real, and that my mother really thought I was a freak. I sniffed and said, "Thank…thank you Mrs. Jennings." I saw the ends of her lips rise slightly in pleasure over what she had done.
"Just so you know Jim, I'll be borrowing the tape to show to my son. You won't be seeing him anymore, not that he would want to see you after I get done explaining what you are."
I felt numb. My best friend was gone. Why had I done this – oh why? And what happened when people found out?
"Come on Jim, it's time to go home. I have to wash your diapers so you'll have something to wear tonight." My mother grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door. The last thing I saw was a smile of satisfaction on Mrs. Jennings face, and a look of sorrow and sympathy's on Nancy's. Of the three of them she was the only one who seemed to grasp how I was really feeling inside.
That was the first day of a long, horrible nightmare. My father was furious when he saw the tape and disowned me on the spot. My mother believed if she embarrassed me enough it would stop me from dressing. She took every opportunity to do just that. For a month I was forced to wear a diaper and a nightgown to bed. On the weekends she made me wear the dresses Nancy and I had worn, one for each day. She took great delight in fixing me up as feminine as possible and forcing me to play with dolls in front of my brothers. They used to laugh and tease me, all with my mother's blessings.
Then there was Mrs. Jennings, who remained a good friend of my mothers. Since my mother didn't trusted me to stay home alone and not go through her things anymore, she would have Mrs. Jennings baby-sit me. This only happened whenever her husband and son weren't home (I think she made arrangements so they wouldn't) and my mother couldn't take me to where she was going. During that time Mrs. Jennings would treat me like a little baby, just as she did that first day. She would force me to stay in a playpen the entire time wearing a diaper and one of the dresses my mother had brought me. I had the option of either playing with a doll or watching Sesame Street on TV. Sometimes I didn't even have a choice. If she were in a particularly evil mood, Mrs. Jennings would force me to play with my doll while she watched and laughed. The worst part was if I had to go to the bathroom she would make me wet my diaper and then have me change it myself.
While I hated it, I learned early on not to disobey her. On my first visit I refused to wet in my diaper. When I tried to head to the bathroom I quickly found myself over Mrs. Jennings knees being spanked hard with a paddle. Even with a thick diaper on it still stung. She kept me over her knee until I did go, and then made me wear the wet diaper for over an hour before I was allowed to change it. I was cold, smelly, and miserable. When my mother found out she said I had it coming and gave me her own spanking for being bad. I quickly learned not to backtalk Mrs. Jennings anymore and made sure I used the bathroom before going over to her house. Of course that only worked if it was just a few hours and not an entire day.
There was only one time Nancy was around when I was there. I had been at her house a couple of hours when she came home after visiting a friend. When she saw me sitting in the playpen holding a doll and sucking on a pacifier she didn't say a word, but neither did she laugh. I could see the sorrow in her eyes for the way they were treating me. It was very awkward moment for both of us. I heard later that she got into a fight with her mother on how she was treating me. After that Mrs. Jennings decided it was better I never came over again.
True to her words, when Dave got home Mrs. Jennings showed him the tape. He never talked to me again, except to say something nasty to me during class changes. Mrs. Jennings told him not to tell anyone else, but after a week others knew and I became a target for every bully in the school. Using the bathroom between classes became a risky venture. Finally, after being beaten up so many times, the principal ordered me to use the staff bathroom for my own safety. My parents actually thought being beat up was a good thing. They figured it would toughen me up and make a man out of me. What it really did was leave me scarred and numb, with a deep desire to kill myself. If it weren't for a lovely, accepting woman I met later in life, I probably would have.
As for my dressing, my parent's actions had the opposite effect on what they were trying to accomplish. Dressing became an escape from the hell I was living. In the end, it only made my desire to dress that much stronger. In fact I started taking even bigger risks to escape from my life for those few, short hours. There were plenty of close calls. One time I had to wait until the people had gone to sleep before I could sneak out and go home. Today I can see how wrong I was to do these things but back then it was different. Things change, so did I. I'm no longer that scared, messed up little kid and yet…sometimes I question how normal I really am.
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