The Sissy-Girly Game free porn video

The Sissy-Girly Game by SissyKimmy1 Chapter 1 - Let's Play Ballerina I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I was still in shock. It was all my little sister's fault. She was always a little bitch but now she had ruined my life completely. I never thought she would take it this far. I couldn't believe she wouldn't come clean and tell our parents the truth. She was following behind me snickering as we approached my new home. My father rang the doorbell. "Dad! You have to believe me! She made me do it!" I attempted to explain one last time. "Quiet Jimmy, the decision is final," my Mom replied. Time slowed down as they waited for the answer and the last few moments of my old life ticked away. I squirmed uncomfortably in my clothes. I was wearing pink Mary Janes, opaque white tights, and a frilly pink dress with petticoats my little sister had once worn as a flower girl. Underneath it all I'm wearing girl's GoodNites underwear, diapers really, meant for bedwetters. They were printed with pink and purple flowers and butterflies. This was the third time my parents had caught me dressed in such a manner in the past month and I had been warned of the consequences. My little sister knew what would happen too. She did this on purpose. I seethed in anger as I recalled what she did to me. - It started years ago. My sister, Kelly, was big and strong for a girl her age and I'm weak and small for a boy. She was a natural bully and loved exploiting this situation to make her older brother's life a living hell. Her favorite thing to do was called "The Sissy-Girly Game." The rules of the game were simple. The game started when one of us (always my sister) would yell, "Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game!" and the first part of the game ended when one of us (always me) exclaimed, "I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!" The methods she used to make me say it varied, but usually she just tackled me to the ground, put her knee in my back, and twisted my arm until I was crying. I had no choice but to surrender. The next phase of the game was the real highlight for her, however, as the loser was forced to dress up as the little girly-girl they said they were. I still remember the first time she played the game with me. She dragged me to her room while I cried in pain as my eye swelled. My little sister had beaten me up and given me a black eye and made me humiliate myself, how could this have happened? Once we were in her room she selected an outfit and showed it to me. It was one of her old ballet dresses. It was a pink peasant sleeve dress with a satin ribbon lace up on the bodice and an attached tutu skirt with pink roses at the waistline. "Put it on," she ordered me. With tears in my eyes and blushing cheeks I stood shivering in anxiety before her as she handed me a pair of pink satin panties. As I held them in my hand I realized I could not possibly let her do this to me. I dropped them and tried to run out of the room. She caught me and dragged me back. She twisted my arm again until I was screaming and begging her to stop. She held me down and put the panties on me by force. My little sister had beaten me up and forced me to wear her panties. My resistance was broken and she made me say, "I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!" again before letting me up. She handed me white tights and I pulled them on over the panties. After that she put me in her ballet dress and put a bow in my hair. She gave me pink ballet slippers to put on. She handed me a tube of bright pink lipstick and ordered me to go to the mirror and put it on. So there I stood before my little sister dressed as a sissy little ballerina because she had beaten me up. Our relationship would never be the same. How could it be? "You can't make me wear your clothes. I'm your older brother. It's not right," I complained. She laughed at me. "Not anymore. From now on you're my little sissy sister. If you want to be my older brother again, well, try and win the game next time! For now, I'm in charge and your new name is Samantha!" I was as utterly humiliated as a boy could be. My little sister was turning me into her bitch. It got even worse. As the waves of humiliation overcame me I could feel myself getting hard in the silky panties under my tutu. Why was this happening to me? For the next few hours she made me play the part of her girly little sister. She made me speak in an excited and exaggerated high pitched girly voice. She ordered me to take mincing little steps and to hold my wrists out limply and generally just act as effeminate as possible. She put on an instructional ballet video and watched me as I tried to dance along with it. She made me wait on her hand and foot. I had to go downstairs and make her lunch while wearing a frilly apron over my ballet dress. I was so frustrated and upset at how I was being treated but I knew I wasn't man enough to stand up to my little sister. After a few hours she realized our parents were coming home soon and ordered me to undress. She saw I had left a wet spot on her panties from my arousal and glared at me in anger. "Samantha, when you borrow someone's clothes you can't go making a mess in them! I think it's cute you're enjoying yourself though. I'll have to think of a solution for that icky little problem though. I can't wait for the next time we play!" I frowned. "Next time?" She nodded. Chapter 2 - Let's Play Princess Bedwetter Back in the present I squirmed with the memory. Her solution to my little arousal problem was the GoodNites I now wore. The door opened and I saw the woman who would be my new guardian. She was an extremely stern faced middle aged woman with black hair held up in a tight bun. She wore a rather plain black dress. She looked like a tough disciplinarian. She greeted my parents and my sister and escorted them in. I stood behind on the doorstep shaking in fear. She looked down at me and crossed her arms. "Samantha, come inside this instant!" With tears in my eyes I complied. "Yes, Ma'am." "Yes, Mother," she corrected me. "Yes, Mother," I replied with a pout. Her name was Mrs. Julia Donovan and she had officially adopted me. My parents had disowned me because of my girly ways and she had been looking to adopt a boy like that for quite some time. I was warned this would happen if I didn't stop my "self-sissification" but there was nothing I could do. My sister wouldn't stop playing her awful game with me. We sat in the living room while my parents chatted with my new mother. I thought more about how I ended up in this mess. - After the third time we played the game my mother noticed that I was wearing lipstick. I had forgotten to clean it off. I broke down in tears and explained what Kelly was doing to me. I begged her not to tell Dad but she ignored me. I tearfully had to explain to him that his only son was being beat up by his little sister and forced to wear her clothes. He never looked at me the same again. Kelly denied it had ever happened and with crocodile tears in her eyes accused me of stealing her clothes and makeup and how violated it made her feel. They believed her. She had them totally fooled. My father screamed at me, "You deserve to be dressed up as a sissy if you let your little sister beat you up! If it was true, you could stop it any time. You obviously don't want to stop being a sissy, but you better or there will be consequences." I was grounded for a week and severely spanked. The next time we played the game Kelly decided to punish me for accusing her in front of our parents. She dressed me in white panties with flowers on them, her jeans, and a pink t-shirt that she had custom made for me with the words, "Little Princess Bedwetter" written on it in darker pink glitter. She dragged me to a grocery store and ordered me to go inside and buy two packages of girl's GoodNites. Blood pounded in my ears and my face blushed crimson as I entered the store. My sister followed behind me at a discrete distance to watch my humiliation. Every head did a double take when they saw the boy dressed in girl's clothes that proclaimed him a little bedwetting princess. I felt like the whole world was looking and laughing at me. I stood in the diaper aisle with a frown as I tried to find what I was looking for. My hands were sweaty and shaking from embarrassment and anxiety and I found myself becoming aroused in my panties again. Why was that happening? I hated it. The humiliation got even worse when I had to carry the two soft pink packages under my arms. The woman at the counter could barely contain her laughter. I stared at the ground and wished I was anywhere else. As instructed I responded, "No thank you," in a nervous, stuttering voice when asked if I wanted my purchases bagged. She slapped two "Paid" stickers on my GoodNites and said, "Thanks for shopping with us, princess-boy!" I was forced to walk home openly carrying my humiliating new undergarments. "No more telling on me and trying to ruin our fun, Samantha, or we'll be playing it in public a lot more!" she warned me. "Nobody likes a prissy little tattle tale." - Even if I was going to be stuck as Samantha with my new mother I thought my one comfort would be that I would never have to see Kelly's stupid face again. My new mother ruined that though, after my sister cheerfully told me, "Goodbye! Have fun with your new Mommy. I'm going to miss you, Samantha!" Mrs. Donovan invited her to be my babysitter when she had to go out. My mother and father left without even saying goodbye. I started to cry. When they were gone my new mother turned to me. "Okay Samantha, stop your sniveling, it's time to show you your new room and to learn the rules for living under my roof. Trust me, you don't want to break them!" And that's how my new life began. Chapter 3 - Let's Play Schoolgirl I frowned at the name "Samantha Anne" written on the door in pink lettering as Mrs. Donovan, Mother, led me into the room. I walked around and explored. It was a big room, as large as my parent's room in my old house. The room had lavender colored walls with white curtains. There were dolls and other girl's toys neatly spread around the room. I pouted at how girly and prissy it looked. There was also a TV and an antique looking desk with a brand new pink Macbook Air. There was a canopied queen sized bed with lavender covers and white pillowcases and sheets. There was a plastic sheet under the covers because of my sister's lies. I had my own bathroom with a similar girly color scheme and a closet that looked will stocked with clothes meant for a little girl. If the room wasn't meant for a girl I would have considered it a much nicer room than my old one right from the start. "What do you say, Samantha?" my new mother asked me. "Umm, thank you Mother, but...." My face turned red with anger. I couldn't restrain myself any more and I started to have a tantrum. "I'M NOT A GIRL AND I DON'T WET MY BED AND IT'S ALL MY SISTER'S FAULT. I WANT TO GO HOME!" My new mother smothered me in a hug and tried to soothe me. "You are home, Samantha. It's all right, it's all right, shh..." she told me over and over until I calmed down. She sat me down at the foot of my new bed while I finished sniveling. Maybe she would be nice after all I thought. My old parents would just call me a sissy and a baby when I broke down like that and tried to explain what was happening to me but Mrs. Donovan had calmed me down and soothed me like... I stopped crying suddenly and tried to act like the boy I was claiming to be...she had soothed me like I was a little girl having a fit. "Samantha," she addressed me. I interrupted and tried to explain myself again. This time I kept my emotions in check. "My name is Jimmy and I'm a boy. I want to change out of these clothes now. My sister makes me wear them. I never wanted to." "SAMANTHA ANNE DONOVAN!" she shouted. "You do not interrupt your mother, ever. I know all about your little sister and you don't need to explain anything to me. I'm sure you're telling the truth about everything she did to you." "So I can change?" I asked with hope. "Of course not. It seems to me your sister and family were exactly right about you. What kind of boy lets his little sister beat him up and put him in her clothes? What kind of boy wears girl's GoodNites because he wets his bed? Only one kind. What kind has a crying fit like a toddler because he's homesick? No matter what you want to be it is clear what you actually are. You are a little sissy boy, Samantha, and that's how your mother intends to raise you. From now on as far as you are concerned you can think of yourself as my twelve year old bed wetting little daughter. If you ever bring this up again, starting now, you will be punished for it until you learn your place." "But I don't wet the bed!" I insisted. An impatient look passed over her face but she allowed me to give my side of the story. After my shopping trip to buy the GoodNites I always wore them when my sister made me play the game so I wouldn't have to wear her panties. They made me feel even more humiliated and more like her little toy which made my little problem with being aroused by the clothes more intense but they did a better job of hiding and containing what was going on. Mrs. Donovan's face showed extreme disapproval whenever I brought that little problem up. "I hope you know none of that funny business will ever be tolerated in this house, Samantha, if I ever catch you there will be severe consequences!" The humiliating thought made me blush even harder as I continued to tell her what had happened to me. - I was sitting outside reading a book. I had hoped staying out of the house would keep her from bothering me, but it didn't help. As I was reading I heard a loud screech behind me, those words I hated and feared. "Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game!" Before I could move she grabbed my arm from behind and held me. She grabbed one of my fingers and bent it backwards. I screamed in pain and tried to resist but in only a matter of seconds I issued the obligatory reply. "I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!" "Oh?" she replied non-nonchalantly. "Well, prissy little girls shouldn't be outside fighting! They should be inside playing dress- up!" Kelly made me wear one of her old school uniforms. It consisted of white tights and white girl's loafers, a crisp white blouse, and a plaid pink and white jumper dress. I had a matching pink headband in my hair and of course she made me put on her pink lipstick. She sat me down at her desk with a pink pen and some paper and told me to write an admission to our parents that I was a sissy little bedwetter. "I promise I won't show it to them, Samantha. I just think it'll be funny. It's just make-believe, girly-girls like you love to play pretend, don't they?" she asked mockingly. "You're such a liar! I hate you!" I responded angrily. I tried to run from the room but she was on me before I could get away. I had been able to escape my little sister's bullying by locking myself in my room until our parents got home a few times before. She pinned me on the ground and started giving me indian burns on my arm until I was crying and begging her to let me go. God I hate her! She pointed to the desk and I knew what I had to do. That's how I ended up writing an essay in girly pink script titled, "Samantha the Sissy Bedwetter" in which I told my Mom and Dad I was having constant problems with keeping my sheets dry and that I was addressing the problem by buying GoodNites for girls. She was true to her word and didn't give it to them, at least right away, but she began a campaign to make the made up story true. She started one morning by ambushing me in my room before I had a chance to relive myself and pinning me down on my bed. She tickled me until I lost control of my bladder while screaming at her to get away. As soon as I was wet we heard a yell from downstairs. My father was asking what all the noise was about and before I had a chance to reply Kelly screamed, "DADDY, JIMMY WET THE BED!" He stormed upstairs and I was caught red handed. After the incident with the lipstick and my "false" accusation that it was my sister's fault he had no patience for my explanations that she had struck again with her mischief. After that incident it was much easier for her to peg me as a bedwetter. She would just dump warm water on me as I slept. I tried to explain it was just water but my parents thought I was "lying" again. I started to lock my door at night but my sister told on me and my Dad took the lock off. He said it was unsafe to sleep with the door locked in case of emergency. Now I had no way to hide from her. I begged her to stop and she gave me the conditions. I had to wear the GoodNites to bed every night. So, for a while I didn't have to worry about waking up wet, but as far as my parent's were concerned my reputation as a wetter was established and I had to go to sleep wearing a distinct reminder of how much my little sister dominated my life. - "Well," Mrs. Donovan said, "that reputation is well established here too. If you stay dry like a young lady should you won't have to worry about plastic sheets and GoodNites any more. You just have to prove it to me." "Okay," I mumbled in reply. She cleared her throat. "Yes, Mother," I corrected myself. At least that was something to look forward to. "But Mother..." "Don't say it, Samantha," she interrupted sternly. "I'm not a sissy boy! Just let me prove that to you too and..." She grabbed me by the ear and led me to the desk. She picked up the computer and the remote control for the television. "No TV or Internet for a week. Now go to the corner for twenty minutes!" she ordered me. I was dumbfounded. My old parents had tried to spank the sissy out of me and yelled and screamed and worse. I had expected a similar sort of punishment from my new stern looking mother but instead she was simply grounding me and giving me a time out like...like...the naughty little princess I was dressed up as. "Samantha Anne Donovan, I won't tell you again, to the corner, NOW! Or do you want a month?" she asked me. "I'm not a twelve year old girl! You can't treat me like one and expect me to go along with it!" I screamed back. She sighed. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, Samantha, but if you don't adjust to your new life there is only one option for you. I'm going to send you to a boy's boarding school, one that specializes in dealing with juvenile offenders from the court system. I'm going to send you there with nothing but your dresses and GoodNites and we can see if you can really hack it as a boy after that. I don't think a boy who can't even handle his little sister will do well in a place like that. Do you really think that would be better than living here in a big house with a big room and a loving mother and everything you could ever want? All you have to do is accept who you really are, my sissy daughter Samantha." I was defeated. The option she gave me was even worse than being here. I could find another way out. I took small slow steps until my nose was pressed up in the corner, crying softly with my vision full of lavender paint. She sighed heavily. The tension dissipated from the room. "A real boy never would have chosen the corner," my new mother told me with certainty in her voice. As she handed me a pink teddy bear to cuddle with during my corner time I realized...she might be right. Chapter 4 - Let's Play Flower Girl "Time's up, Samantha," Mother said gently. I turned from the corner still sniffling and holding the stuffed bear. My new mother gave me a hug and patted my back. "So Samantha, would you like to change into something else more comfortable or are you fine in that dress?" "I hate this dress," I mumbled with a pout. "Oh, Samantha, but you look so pretty in it! I'll always think of you in it. How couldn't I remember what my daughter was wearing the first day I met her? In fact, wait right here so I can get my camera and take some pictures before you change." I groaned as she left the room. I thought about the very first time Kelly had made me wear her flower girl dress. - It was a few days before the wedding. It was being held in a beach resort in Florida and our family had rented out a large house by the ocean. Kelly and I were hanging out with some of our cousins while everyone else was at the beach. There were two boys, Mike and Ted, and two younger girls named Mary and Jennifer. Mike and Ted were rough housing around like boys do and the girls were sitting around the table chatting. I sat on a couch somewhere in the middle reading a book, not wanting to have anything to do with either group. Mike and Ted started arm wrestling and I got up to leave. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be challenged and I knew from experience I would just end up losing. My stupid little sister just couldn't leave it alone. "Where are you going Jimmy? You don't want to arm wrestle?" Ted laughed. "It's okay. He doesn't have to arm wrestle us if he doesn't want to. Leave him alone." I was surprised they didn't want to join in the taunting but I took it as a blessing and started to leave. My sister still wouldn't let it go. It always amazed me how much of a bully she was to me when most people were nice. "Who said anything about arm wrestling with you? Come on Jimmy, come arm wrestle Mary," she taunted. I let out a nervous laugh. "Uhh, don't joke around Kelly, that wouldn't be fair." Kelly smiled impishly. "Don't worry, she'll go easy on you." The girls all laughed. My face turned red. Kelly went on, "We'll make it a bet. If you win I promise never to ask you to play that game you don't like anymore." "What game?" Jennifer asked innocently. "It's nothing!" I shouted quickly before Kelly had a chance to reply. I was intrigued, for all her meanness I had never known my sister to back down from honoring a bet. I looked over at Mary and considered. Sure my little sister beat me up, but Mary was younger and smaller than she was. I was sure I could handle her. I sat down across the table from Mary. Mike rolled his eyes. "Come on. Jimmy, don't hurt my sister." "I won't," I promised. Kelly laughed. "Definitely not!" I glared at her. I put my elbow on the table and Mary looked at me with determination. Kelly went on, "Of course, if Mary wins we have to get something too. How about you model my flower girl dress for everyone?" My face turned bright red and I started to pull my elbow away from the table. "I'm not wearing your dress," I insisted. Ted laughed. "Of course not, unless you lose." Mary smiled innocently. "And if you do lose you kind of belong in a dress. What kind of boy would lose to a little girl like me?" God. How did I end up in these situations? My stupid sister. Mary and I locked hands. Kelly counted to three and we started to arm wrestle. For a few seconds neither of us had the advantage. Mary was pushing as hard as she could and so was I. The girls were cheering wildly for her and so were the other boys. I don't think the boys really wanted to see me humiliated, they weren't bullies like my sister, but it's just more fun to root for the underdog which in this case was the little girl and not the older boy. Slowly I started to take the upper hand. It was taking me way longer than it should of but it was now certain I was going to win. I started to sweat a bit with the effort. Almost....almost....almost..... No more Sissy-Girly Game! Almost...No more saying I'm a prissy little.... Under the table where nobody could see Kelly grabbed my free hand and bent back one of my fingers. I yelped in pain and in my distraction Mary had slammed my hand down on the table in an instant before I could recover. Everyone cheered. They lifted Mary up in their arms and carried her around in triumph. I stared at my sister with hated. She smiled and whispered in my ear, "Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game." Kelly dragged me back to her room and locked the door. "Say it," she insisted. "I hate you! I'm not saying it. I have to wear it anyway. A bet's a bet." She rushed towards me and punched me hard in the stomach and I fell to the ground groaning and gasping for breath. When I recovered there was only one thing to do. "I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!" She smiled in triumph. "Oh, they will!" "But Kelly, I didn't bring any GoodNites, what am I going to wear under?" Kelly laughed. "It's okay just this once. In fact I got these panties just for you Samantha!" She held up the most frilly, sissy, lace and ribbon covered pair of pink panties you could imagine. "Mother couldn't believe when I asked for them along with the dress. They are so girly and silly, but I just knew you would LOVE them Samantha. Put them on!" she ordered me. I was shaking as I put them on, praying none of the other kids were curious enough to be just outside the door to hear exactly what was going on. I was in a state of abject humiliation with the panties in place. Like clockwork my unwanted arousal returned. Kelly covered her mouth to hold in her laughter. "I just knew you would love them! My girly-girl sister loves her panties!" "SHHHH!" I told her in a pleading voice as she tried to keep herself under control. I hated the strange feeling of pleasure the sissy humiliation gave me. The arousal and the butterflies it left in my stomach just made me feel more weak and sissy and girly and no matter how I moved I couldn't escape feeling what I felt in my panties more and more. In short order I was also dressed in the petticoats and dress and the white tights and pink Mary Janes. The pink satin dress had a cap sleeved princess style bodice and an organza overlay skirt embroidered with elegant pink flowers, puffed up by the petticoats underneath. An additional pink flower was pinned on at the sash and in my hair. She also did my makeup like hers would be done for the ceremony, finishing with pink lipstick of course. "Don't make me go out there," I begged. "You didn't lose the bet to me, you lost it to Mary and you promised to model the dress for all of us. It's out of my hands," she replied. "But you cheated," I whined. "You lost. Get over it, sissy boy!" she said with a smile. I walked back to the living room with my cheeks burning red and my sister following close behind. "Ta-Da!" Kelly pronounced and I performed a curtsey as instructed, one so well executed it would be obvious to a close observer the move had been practiced many times before. The boys just shook their heads and walked away, not wanting to see me humiliated any more. I could tell they would always think of me as a sissy from now on though. The girls squealed with delight and ran over and started fussing with the dress and complimenting me on how pretty I looked. After a few more minutes of primping Kelly handed me her flower basket and made me practice walking down the aisle in cadence and pantomiming tossing flowers. I was in the middle of that when my Mom and Dad came back to the house. "Kelly, why are you in your d..." Dad began to ask as I turned around in horror and he saw who it really was. The girls tried to explain I had just lost a bet and was honoring it but he never believed anything but that I was a gay little sissy boy every time they caught me. He assumed I had lost on purpose. He looked like he was about ready to grab me and thrash me for taking my little sissy act public in front of the family but Mom held him back. "The dress! The dress! You can't hurt the dress!" she screamed at him. Yeah. Wouldn't want to hurt the dress. Mom grabbed me painfully by the wrist and dragged me back to the room and undressed me. When she saw what was going on in my panties she looked about ready to thrash me as hard as Dad would. "Oh God. My son is a little pervert sissy. Why didn't I just have two daughters if my son was going to come out like this? Why?" She threw out the panties. "You can't keep doing this to your sister's clothes! It's disgusting! You need to control yourself and stop being such a sissy!" "It's not my fault," I cried while putting my boy's clothes back on. She pulled me by the wrist to the bathroom and removed the makeup. I still remember watching Kelly walk down the aisle in that dress. She looked over at me and winked and stopped to whisper in my ear, "From now on, only you're going to wear it Samantha!" A wedding photographer noticed and snapped a picture of the flower girl whispering in the ear of the blushing little boy. Kelly kept a copy in her room. - At the last flash of the camera my new Mother smiled at me. "Okay, let's get you changed." Fine with me I thought. She hummed to herself while she went to various drawers to pick out clothes for me. "You can pick out your panties, Samantha, the drawer is over there." She pointed. "Just think, some panties of your very own for the first time!" I opened the drawer. Every last pair was just as frilly and fancy and prissy as the one's I had originally worn under the flower girl's dress. I groaned. At least it wasn't GoodNites I thought. I picked out a frilly blue pair. Mother handed me a panty liner. "To handle your little wetness problem and to keep your little thing from poking out," she told me and I blushed. Luckily not all the clothes were as frilly and old fashioned as the panties, though a good deal of them were as I saw with dread. For now she just dressed me in pink cotton pajama bottoms with white hearts on them and a pink t-shirt with a white unicorn covered in silver glitter. In the mirror I saw I still looked like an effeminate boy wearing the clothes of a twelve year old girl and not an actual girl. "Don't worry," Mother told me, "soon we'll have you looking like any other little girl." I pouted and she saw I was dangerously close to protesting. "Or we could just keep you like this, but don't think you're getting boy's clothes to go along with it," she told me. I wasn't sure what would be worse. She led me downstairs to the kitchen. She presented me with a frilly pink and white apron with the words "Mother's Little Helper" embroidered on it and tied it on me, "Now, time to help your Mother in the kitchen like any good little girl should." "But I don't know how to cook," I whined. She giggled back at me. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to learn helping me every day!" After dinner I helped her do the dishes. She wasn't actually that bad to be around. If it wasn't for my loathing for the clothes and having to act like a girl I could see my new family working out. When we were done she sat me down at the table to explain the rules I would now have to live by. When we were done she put a copy of the rules up on the refrigerator and gave me another copy to take to my room. She also showed me a brand new pink iPhone but told me I was not allowed to use it while my TV and computer privileges were revoked. Who would I call anyway? THE RULES: 1. YOU WILL ACT LIKE THE PROPER YOUNG LADY YOU ARE AT ALL TIMES. 2. YOU WILL COMPLETE ALL OF YOUR DAILY CHORES (HELPING MOTHER IN THE KITCHEN, CLEANING YOUR ROOM AND BATHROOM, HELPING MOTHER IN THE GARDEN, KEEPING ALL COMMON AREAS OF THE HOUSE NEAT AND CLEAN) WITHOUT PROCRASTINATION OR COMPLAINT. 3. YOU WILL FOLLOW A STRICT PERSONAL HYGIENE ROUTINE (BRUSH TEETH THREE TIMES A DAY, SHOWER, TEND TO YOUR BEAUTY NEEDS) DAILY WITHOUT PROMPTING OR COMPLAINT. 4. NO LYING, YOU WILL BE ABSOLUTELY HONEST WITH YOUR MOTHER AT ALL TIMES. 5. YOUR INTERNET USAGE WILL BE STRICTLY MONITORED. NO FUNNY BUSINESS. 6. YOUR TELEVISION USAGE IS RESTRICTED WITH A V-CHIP TO AGE APPROPRIATE MATERIAL. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO WATCH AN UNAPPROVED PROGRAM YOU WILL ASK PERMISSION. IF IT IS NOT GRANTED, YOU WILL NOT WHINE OR ATTEMPT TO CIRCUMVENT YOUR MOTHER'S WISHES. 7. ANY MUSIC OR BOOKS YOU WISH TO PURCHASE MUST BE APPROVED BY YOUR MOTHER FIRST. NO INAPPROPRIATE MATERIAL. 8. BEDTIME IS 9 O'CLOCK EVERY NIGHT UNLESS PERMISSION TO STAY UP IS EXPRESSLY GRANTED. NO COMPUTER OR TV USE AFTER BEDTIME. YOU WILL BE UP PROMPTLY AT 5 O'CLOCK TO HELP MOTHER WITH BREAKFAST. 9. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT PERMISSION. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT YOUR CELL PHONE. IT'S A DANGEROUS WORLD OUT THERE FOR A YOUNG GIRL. NO TALKING TO STRANGERS. 10. YOU WILL OBEY YOUR MOTHER AT ALL TIMES, WITHOUT HESITATION. ANY VIOLATION OF THE RULES WILL BE PUNISHED APPROPRIATELY, DO NOT TEST ME. I felt incredibly smothered by the draconian rules. In my old house it seemed like both my sister and I ran wild. Well, she certainly did anyway. It's how I ended up here in the first place. On the other hand, I felt somewhat comforted that someone would be watching over me at all times. I could have used that in the past. After we discussed the rules for several hours Mother stared at the clock in silence for a few moments. I looked up too and saw it was 9:01. I stood up and came to her side. "It's my bedtime, Good night Mother." She smiled at me. "Good girl." I felt like such a pussy giving in to her rules, but I didn't want to test her just yet after a day of such traumatic changes. Better to sleep on it and hope to figure out what to do with my new life in the morning. She led me upstairs. I went to obediently hop right into bed but when I pulled up the covers I again noticed the plastic lining and I blushed. I turned around and saw Mother holding a package of GoodNites. "Panties off, Samantha," she told me. In humiliation I obliged. She would soon see that there was no reason for me to wear them, not that the frilly panties were a much better choice of undergarments. "Sleep tight, Samantha," Mother told me before handing me the pink teddy bear to cuddle with. Despite the plastic sheets the large canopied bed was actually by far the most comfortable I had ever slept in. The covers were thick and warm and I felt like I was lying on a big fluffy cloud. My pajamas were comfortable too. I guess one advantage of girl's clothes is how soft and nice they can feel. For a moment as I laid in the bed in the darkness of my new room, hearing muffled sounds of my Mother preparing for bed in the other room, I somehow felt like I belonged here and that everything would be okay. I drifted off to a deep sleep. Vaguely I recalled having nightmares about my little sister. I woke with a start as a loud alarm blared to life at five in the morning. I wasn't used to being up so early and I didn't know how to turn the alarm off and... I froze with the alarm still blaring as I suddenly noticed something. I started to cry. I grabbed the alarm and tossed it across the room and it hit the wall and broke and finally went silent. I was soaking wet. Chapter 5 - Let's Play Dollies I shuddered in disgust at the cold wetness around my crotch and bottom and threw off the covers. I screamed in frustration. I heard loud footsteps heading towards my room. Mother opened the door with an annoyed look on her face. "Samantha! What are you going on about at this time of morning! It's time to get dressed," she shouted. I screamed back, "Like you don't know!? I'm all wet! What did you do to me?" She saw the wetness on my pink pajama pants which had overwhelmed the GoodNites and a look of concern came to her face. "Oh, you poor dear. My poor little bedwetter..." Through my tears I shouted back again, "I don't wet the bed! You poured water on me or put my hand in warm water while I slept or put something in my dinner. I HATE YOU! You're just like my sister. You don't care about me! You're just playing the Sissy-Girly Game! At least my sister stopped sometimes! You're making me play it all the time! I hate you!" She looked angry but spoke in a measured voice, "Samantha Anne Donovan, you listen to me, that is a nasty thing to say and you should be ashamed. I did no such thing. We made dinner together and ate the same food and I didn't wet MY bed. And I didn't do a thing to you while you slept. Now come with me and I can prove it." With a pout I followed behind her as she led me to her computer. She showed me a video. She had cameras in my room including one with night vision. I was to have no privacy at all. I again felt the her smothering influence on me and shuddered. "It's for your own safety, Samantha. Do you know how many little girls end up kidnapped?" she insisted. The video was grainy and dark but it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was not lying. I whimpered and started cry like a sissy little girl again. "I am...I am...I AM a bedwetter..." I whined. Mother nodded at me. "I'm sure you weren't before your sister started to bully you, but she clearly traumatized you. She told me she stopped faking your accidents quite a while ago. You've been wetting yourself for a long time." "I'm sorry," I told her through my tears. I had never felt this way before, so totally emasculated and infantile. In the past it was all my sister's fault. Now I had nobody to blame but myself. I let Mother put me in these clothes instead of going off to a boarding school. I wet the bed all on my own. I felt pathetic and humiliated with my girly clothes clinging to me with a cold wetness that made me feel like a useless, helpless bedwetting little child. She hugged me and tried to soothe me. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's a medical problem and it happens to many young girls your age. Two to three percent of twelve year old girls, according to my research." That's not exactly many, and I'm not a twelve year old girl. I knew I wasn't allowed to say so. Instead I just hugged her tightly back. My old parents had punished me severely when I wet the bed hoping it would make me stop. I think it must have just contributed to making the problem real. My new mother just hugged me and tried to make me feel better. "That wasn't what I meant," I continued. "I'm sorry for saying you did this to me. That wasn't very nice. I'll understand if you need to punish me." She took me by the hand and spoke as she led me back up to my room. "Don't be silly dear, I understand why you were upset. I'll make a doctor's appointment for you to figure out your bedwetting. In the mean time just do your best. Don't drink anything right before bed and try and stay dry." Going to the doctor for my problem would be humiliating, but at least it might get it solved. Mother took the sheets and comforter off my bed to clean and sent me to the shower to get ready for my first full day in my new home. When I got out of the shower an outfit was laid out for me but Mother was nowhere to be seen. She obviously wanted to see if I would just submissively dress myself like the twelve year old girl she wanted me to be. There was no little sister berating me and threatening me and beating me up. I was alone in my room looking down at the frilly pink panties making my own decision. I came downstairs. I was dressed in a short sleeved dark pink bubble top with black polka dots and hearts on it, decorated at the neckline with black sequin dots to create a collar effect, and black leggings and matching sandals. Mother smiled at me. "You look so pretty Samantha. You'll look even better after your makeover at the salon today! Nobody will ever think of you as a nasty little boy ever again!? I trembled in fear but I knew protesting would only get me stuck in the corner. She helped me into my apron and we started making breakfast. I was glum the entire time. Mother tried to distract me and cheer me up but all I could do was reflect on what a pathetic sissy bedwetter I was. While we ate I started to ask her questions. I had to know more about my new Mother and my new life. "Are you married? Do I have a...a new Father too?? I asked. She replied somberly, "He passed on many years ago.? I nodded. I didn't think I really wanted another father figure in my life when I was such a sissy. "What do you do for a living? I've never been in such a nice house and you have so many nice things.? "My late husband was very wealthy. I don't have to work at all. I do have a little side business making dresses for little girls though. You're going to be my little model when you're ready,? she said with a smile. I groaned. "Do you have any other children?? She paused and stared out the window for a few moments, her face looking slightly distressed. I had to cough to regain her attention. "No, you're an only child, Samantha,? she told me in a monotone. "What am I going to do about...school and stuff?? I asked. She shrugged. "That's going to be up to you. If you want, I would be happy to homeschool you. I have the time and I would love to spend it with my little sissy daughter. I think you might feel a bit smothered by that though. The local public school is always an option. It's a very nice school district. They would be very accommodating for your special needs. Either way, you'll be starting over as a twelve year old in grade six, not at your old grade. You've been doing terribly at school and I'm going to make sure that gets put right this time. You're such a smart little girl, always reading books and such, you have no excuse for not doing better.? She really knew a lot about me. My parents had been discussing my adoption with her for months and she took her role as my mother very seriously. I tried to explain that my problems at school were my sister's fault too but she told me it didn't matter what the cause was, it just had to be fixed. "Speaking of books..." I asked her if I could buy a new science-fiction book to pass the time since I was unable to use my computer or watch television. She laughed. "Don't be silly Samantha, you have a bookshelf full of books in your room I'm sure you've never read. Read them for now and when you're done we can talk about getting you new books. In fact, I have some work to do now that needs to be finished before your salon appointment later. I'll get you a book and you can read quietly until it's time to go.? She chose a book for me. It was "The Secret Garden? by Frances Hodgson Burnett. "This was my favorite book when I was your age,? she told me. "Come along and let me show you something." She took my hand and led me out to the rear of the house. In the yard was the most amazing garden I had ever seen. It was full of beautiful flowers and ponds and carefully arranged rocks and sculptures and fountains. There was also a large vegetable garden and a well manicured lawn. The yard was surrounded by a tall hedge for privacy. I complimented her, "You have a beautiful garden, Mother.? She smiled at me. "We have a beautiful garden, Samantha. Remember, helping me is going to be part of your chores. I don't think you'll see it as work though, it's a peaceful and calming hobby and I think it's just the sort of thing a sensitive sissy boy like yourself will enjoy.? I pouted at her characterization and she left me sitting on a bench amidst the flowers to read. I had little interest in what appeared to be such a girly book but with no other recourse for my boredom I dived in. It was about a ten year old British girl named Mary Lennox. She was born in India to very rich parents who mostly didn't want her around and left her care to the servants. She was spoiled and angry and rude. Eventually her parents died of cholera and she was forced to move back to England to live in a large manor with a relative. I stopped reading in frustration. It wasn't a bad book so far, it was actually well written and engaging, but it seemed so dreary and depressing. Why would my new Mother leave me in such a beautiful garden with such a dreary book? With nothing to occupy my mind I thought about what I usually ended up thinking of when I was depressed. - I was trying to do my homework. I had a test to study for and I had been failing so many lately that I just had to catch up, but every time I tried to study, "Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game!? she screeched. "No, Kelly. I have to study. Can't we play tomorrow?? I begged my little sister. She giggled at me. "If you want to study so bad you better try and win the game for once!? She charged at me and pulled my chair back and down. I tumbled out of it and she pinned me down quickly, kneeling over me with two legs on each side of my body holding down my arms. She laughed at me. She started to pinch my cheeks and taunt me, "Aww! What a cutey sissy little sister I have! Isn't that right, Samantha?? "I'm not playing, please not today,? I whined. She stuck two of her fingers in her mouth and sucked on them, coating them with saliva. She popped them out and stuck them in my ears and swirled them around. I shuddered in disgust and tried to shove her off to no avail. My little sister was giving me a wet willy and making me scream like a girl, "Ewww! Ewww! Stop it! I'm a prissy little sissy- girly and I want everyone to know it!? She smiled at me. "I knew you didn't want to wait to play your favorite game. And guess what? Since you want to do homework so much I'll let you once you're properly dressed. Put on your GoodNites and come to my room!? Well, at least I could get my work done, or so I thought, but she had me tricked yet again. Twenty minutes later I was dressed in one of her old Easter dresses. It was a sleeveless white organza dress with built in crinoline. The skirt and bodice were embroidered with fanciful butterflies. There was a lilac sash adorned with a large lilac butter fly trailing ribbons below it. There was another butterfly pinned in my hair and I wore white tights and sandals. She pointed her camera at me and started recording after making me memorize a script to recite along with properly enthusiastic girly-girl mannerisms. It was just more evidence she could use to blame me for stealing her clothes if Mom and Dad ever started to believe their little angel Kelly was really beating me up and forcing me to do it. "Hi, Mom and Dad, my name is Samantha and I'm your precious little bedwetting sissy daughter. I hate being a boy so much!? I stamp my foot. "I want to be a little girly-girl all the time which is why I'm always stealing my sister's clothes! It's just not fair that she gets to wear scrumptious Easter dresses like this one..? I curtsy to the camera. "And I'm not allowed to wear anything but stupid ugly pants. Please can I be a girl forever? Pleassssssssse,? I whine. I clasp my hands together and hold them in front of me and bounce up and down repeating, "Please please please pleassssssssse!? When I was done my sister laughed at me uproariously. "You are such a perfect sister's little sissy! I can't believe you let me do this to you. No older brother in the world besides you could possibly be such a puss!? I whined, "Kelly, you said you would let me do my homework when I was dressed. Please just leave me alone.? She raised an eyebrow at me. "I never said you could do your homework. I only said you could do homework. Mine!? I spent an hour doing all of her work for her while she talked on the phone with her friends and kept making fun of me. When I was finally done I begged her to let me change and go back to my homework. "I don't think so,? she told me. "How about instead you go downstairs and play with my dollhouse?? I replied in fear, "But Kelly, Mom and Dad are going to be home soon. I can't get caught dressed like this again. You know what they're talking about doing to me.? She smirked. "Well I guess you'll just have to be very careful to listen for them and run back upstairs when you hear them, not a moment sooner. If you don't cooperate I'm just going to show them the little video we just made.? I was shaking with fear as I knelt in front of the dollhouse downstairs. Kelly watched me from the couch and encouraged me to play enthusiastically. I was forced to take four dolls and act out my day. The mommy and daddy dolls waited by the door while I played with the two child sized dolls. I had to put on an enthusiastic girl's voice and yell, "Let's play the Sissy-Girly Game!? while holding up the little girl doll and then act out that doll beating up the boy doll. She ordered me to, in an even girlier voice, make the boy doll give the obligatory reply. Then I switched the doll's clothes. I kept acting out our little adventure for a while until I suddenly heard a bump. In a flash I made a run for the stairs. My sister raced after me with an excited smile on her face. She tripped me. I hit my knee and started to cry while she raced upstairs before my parents could see her. My parents found me in my sister's frilly Easter dress on the ground with my skirt up at my waist putting my GoodNites on display under the tights. I realized I was still holding the dolls and dropped them. From their point of view, they just caught their son playing alone with dolls and a dollhouse in a frilly white and lilac dress he stole from his sister. Boy did I get it for that one. My parents instantly connected my choice of underwear with my apparent bedwetting problems and thought it meant I wasn't even trying to stay dry anymore or act like a boy. They punished me as hard as they ever had in an attempt to toughen me up and get the boy back in me. It wasn't my fault though, nothing they were doing would help my situation. - Mother held my hand as we entered the salon. The stylist smiled at me. She was a plump, friendly looking woman with black hair. "Hello, I'm Terry,? she introduced herself. Mother replied with a smile, "This is my adopted little daughter Samantha. She is here for her full makeover.? Terry addressed her and I felt invisible like a small child while the adults are talking. "Well, she seems like quite the tomboy, but we can sort that all out and bring out the girly-girl in her.? "Oh no,? Mother replied casually, "not a tomboy, she isn't a boyish girl at all, just the opposite. She was born a boy and now wants to act like the true prissy girl she always was on the inside.? Terry smiled down at me. "Oh, you're so brave and special! Don't worry, I'll work extra hard to make sure you are the prettiest little girl in town!? Mother pinched me gently to prompt me to reply, "Thank you, Terry.? Mother introduced me to another woman named Bridgette who is a friend of hers. She was a pretty woman with fiery red hair and green eyes. I curtsied for her. "Hello Bridgette, I'm Samantha.? She replied, "Oh what a cute little doll you are. You're very lucky to have a Mother like Mrs. Donovan who'll let you be your true self. I think you two are going to get along great together.? As Terry led me to the styling chair and began to work I could hear Mother and Bridgette talking in quiet tones while Bridgette waited for her appointment to start. I couldn't hear much but I made out the words "poor dear? and "wets the bed? and "plastic cover." I blushed as Bridgette looks at me with genuine sympathy and extreme pity and wondered just what I would look like when my appointment at the salon was complete. Chapter 6 ? Let's Play Panty Thief "I don't want to take piano lessons, Mother,? I whined. She patted my head and gently tugged at the french braid in my sandy blonde hair that was the highlight of my new style. "I can't wait until your hair grows longer,? she mused. "Mother, did you hear me?? I asked. She smiled at me. "Just give it a few lessons, if you don't have fun we can find something else for you to do with yourself." After she was done primping my hair she proceeded to help me do my makeup until I looked just like I had after my makeover. Nothing slutty or fancy or too grown up, just enough makeup to make me look naturally feminine. When I was done I stood in front of the mirror and observed. I wore a mint green sundress with white polka dots, frilly anklets, white Mary Janes, and a pearl necklace that belonged to Mother. My fingernails were painted light pink and my hair and makeup were immaculate. Nobody would look at me and see anything other than a twelve year old girl. Well, they might think I was younger than twelve. With that embarrassing thought I again felt those funny feelings under the pink satin panties I wore. Mother saw me squirm. "It's okay, Dear. Just like I told you, all it means is that deep down you know this is who you really are.? "But, Mother, it makes me feel so weird. Like...vulnerable and exposed and helpless...it shouldn't feel good,? I whined. She smiled at me. "Maybe a boy shouldn't feel that way. But all little sissy girls like you feel this way about their clothes. When you get used to them, you'll start to be able to control it and only let that part of you shine through when you want to.? I hoped she was right about controlling it, but I didn't know if I would ever want to share it. It was just too embarrassing. The doorbell rang. "Go answer the door, Samantha. That will be your teacher,? she instructed me. "Yes, Mother,? I replied. As I made my way toward the door I stopped in shock. Two more packages of girl's GoodNites were sitting on a table in the foyer. We had needed to stock up because I had managed to wet the bed every single night since I had moved in. It had never been this bad before. Mother said I must be finding the move too stressful. I went to hide the packages but the doorbell rang again before I could. "Samantha Anne Donovan! Answer the door this instant!? I heard from upstairs. With a red face I immediately complied. Three names always meant business I was learning. I opened the door and quickly bobbed a polite curtsey while starring at the ground in red faced shame. My piano teacher greeted me, "Well hello, Samantha! So good to see you again!? I looked up for the first time. "Oh. Hello, Bridgette. So good to see you too,? I replied. I must always be mindful of my manners. Mother insists. As she entered the house I slowly put myself between her and my embarrassing nighttime undergarments on the table. Unfortunately she was tall enough to see right over me to what I was hiding. She patted me on the head and gave me a hug. "Awwww, don't be embarrassed, Samantha. Your mother already told me about your little problem. My daughter had bedwetting issues until she was seven. I totally understand what you're going through.? It was so frustrating being patronized like that. I wanted to scream, "I'm not a seven year old girl or a twelve year old girl and I shouldn't be wetting the bed!? but I knew I had to remain polite and well mannered for Mother. "What a lovely dress!? she exclaimed. "Do a twirl for me.? I obediently obliged her as Mother came downstairs to greet her friend. I stood quietly while I waited for them to finish chatting and then Bridgette led me over to the piano. I had never played a musical instrument before and I didn't even know how to read music so I was a bit intimidated. Mother noticed and reassured me, "You're a very bright little girl, Samantha, and Bridgette is an excellent teacher. Just work at it and practice every day and you'll pick everything up in no time.? I was handed a new copy of the house rules later that night. Working at it was to be mandatory, it seemed. 11. YOU WILL PRACTICE THE PIANO FOR 45 MINUTES EVERY DAY. NO EXCEPTIONS! The lesson wasn't so bad. Bridgette did seem to be a good teacher and she explained everything so it was very clear and easy to understand. She was quick to answer all my questions and never looked angry when I messed up. After the lesson I donned my apron. "Mother's Little Helper? it proclaimed me, and that's what I had become. Mother and I were a practiced team in the kitchen and with two people so in sync it hardly seemed like work at all. The three of us went out to a table in the garden. Mother and Bridgette chatted and gossiped while I served the tea and sandwiches. "Such a helpful little girl, isn't she?? Bridgette asked. Mother smiled. "A perfectly well mannered little Miss,? she proclaimed me. After lunch I sat nearby and went back to reading my book. Mary's maid had told her a story about a secret garden in the large manor where she was staying. Mrs. Craven, the wife of Mary's Uncle who owned the manor had spent hours every day tending to roses in her garden. When she died Mr. Craven had hidden away the key to the garden forever. Mary started to form friendships and lose her angry and rude dispossession. She would play with her skipping rope and explore the moor around the manor while wondering about the secret garden and the tragedy behind it everyone seemed to ignore. "What are you reading, Samantha?? Bridgette asked. I held up the book so she could see the cover but didn't answer. I just kept reading. It was still a depressing story, but I wanted to know how it would end. "Don't be rude, Samantha. Come join us,? Mother chided me. With a sigh I put down the book to returned to the table. Bridgette smiled at me. "So, your mother tells me you're going back to school in the fall. Are you excited?? I nodded unconvincingly. "Sixth grade." I burned at the demotion to a sixth grader but I had no choice. I was being demoted right out of middle school. I would be riding a bus with first graders and the rest of the elementary school kids again. "That's nice,? Bridgette said. "A student of mine named Marcie should be in your class. I can introduce you at your first piano recital so you have a little friend already for your first day back in school!? "Thanks, I guess,? I replied. Being stuck with Mother all the time was becoming more and more smothering. I knew school would be a humiliating disaster but Mother told me I could change my mind and be homeschooled, or go to a boarding school or military school as a boy, any time I wanted. I hated that she always offered to let me be a boy again but only in a way I knew would be terrible for me. It just proved to me over and over how weak and pathetic I was. "We talked and talked about it before we finally agreed she should go back,? Mother explained. Still, I felt like arguing some more. "But what if they find out I'm really a boy?? I asked. Mother smiled at me. "We can't hide who you are, Samantha. The principal will explain to the whole school about your special status. They've dealt with this before.? I pouted. "So the kids will make fun of me for sure.? Bridgette broke in, "Oh no. And if they do you go right to the teacher and tell on them.? "But I don't want to be a tattle..." I started. Mother interrupted, "Samantha Anne Donovan, calling you a tattle tale is just another way of saying you're a good little girl. If people break the rules the teacher should know. I expect you to be a perfect little teacher's pet and you'll be in big trouble if you aren't!? I whined, "But the other kids will pick on me. The boys will bully me and try and beat me up.? "Teacher," Mother and Bridgette replied in unison. Mother added, "Any time anyone is mean to you or ABSOLUTELY if they try and hit you all you have to do is cry and ask a teacher or a bigger kid for help.? I was near tears now already. "But I can't just go to the teacher and come off as weak and helpless. I have to stand up for myself and be brave. Nobody will respect me otherwise and it will just make things worse.? I was crying by the time I was finished, making a mockery of the idea I could be brave. Mother moved close and hugged me tightly. "You poor dear, you really still don't understand, do you? You're a girl now. Little girls can cry and ask someone else to protect them all they want and nobody thinks less of them for it. Do you know what happens when a boy has a crying fit like this at school?? I certainly did and it made me bawl even more. Mother went on, "Yes, they call him a cry baby and beat him up and they totally lose respect for him. But Samantha, do you know what happens when a little girl cries?? I shook my head. Mother spoke one simple word, "Nothing.? Bridgette added, "Nothing but hugs and kisses and everything possible to make her feel better. Girls can cry whenever they want. Isn't it so much better for a shy, sensitive, quiet, loving, pretty little person like yourself to be a girl?? My head was spinning. Bridgette went on, "...or I guess you could try life the boy's way again. Having to act all tough and never complain or cry and being treated like you're a rock and nothing matters to you.? Why did all this make sense to me? "It's just that easy? Being a girl can't be so easy...? "Of course not, Samantha,? Mother said, "it's just as difficult in its own way. You're expected to always look pretty. If you act too angry they call you a bitch. Too cold and they call you frigid. People will think you're not as smart as a boy. They won't think you can be a leader. It's harder to get a job and they will pay you less for just as much work and still expect you to have a perfect family life as well,? She looked at me very seriously, "But Samantha, these are all challenges someone with your temperament is much better suited to deal with than what a boy faces. You're already pretty, you are warm and loving and have a great smile, you're extremely bright, and I know you will grow into an amazing woman who can take on any challenge.? My heart was beating through my chest. I hugged her tightly. I didn't quite believe her, but it was a nice thing to say in a way. I started to think about my experiences in my old school, the last time I was in sixth grade. - She had cornered me and dragged me into a girl's bathroom. It was marked out of order so nobody would come in but they had forgotten to lock the doors. She was pulling at my hair violently. "Owwww! We can't play it at school, Kelly. I'll get in trouble!? I insisted. My sister replied menacingly, "I don't remember making that rule and I invented this game after all!? She dragged me into a stall and forced my head down towards the toilet bowl. "Noooo!? I screamed with my face an inch away from the water. "Better keep quiet, little sister,? she told me. "If you don't want the rest of the school to find out about your little nighttime troubles. Remember those pictures I took this morning of you and your wet bed and girly diaper?? "They aren't diapers,? I whined pointlessly. What did it matter? She just laughed and taunted me in a baby voice, "Aww, my bedwetty wittle sister think just because they call her diapers 'Undergarments' in the marketing that changes what they are. You can call this a facial if you want!? She stuck my face in the water and flushed. I gurgled and cried and then she pulled my face out of the bowl. "Again?? she asked. "Please no, Kelly,? I begged in reply. "I'll do whatever you want.? "We've been playing this game for so long. How could you still be confused about the rules?? she asked before dunking my face back in the water. "Ahhhhhh! Stop it! I'm a prissy little sissy-girly and I want everyone to know it!? Her eyes widened in mock surprise. "The whole school, Samantha? I don't think that's such a good idea." She handed me a pair of panties. "Just these should do, we can play more after school and talk about letting everyone else know if you really want. I'll dress you up like a fairy princess and you can write out a long letter to