This is the girl I want to look like.

It is Cindy Brady of “The Brady Bunch”.

Here is my fantasy: 

The first half is true. The second part is what I would wish would have happened.

I am a boy of 12 years old. I sneak into my younger sisters room when I think I am home alone ( I actually did this at the age of 12 when I was a boy). I have three younger sisters and they all share the same room. My sisters range in ages of between 6, 8 and 11.

When I am alone in their room I tentavily explore their clothes. I open drawers and wardrobes, and pick out various items of clothing of my sisters. I am excited as I go through their knickies (as my mum and sisters called them when we were growing up). Their knickies are a lot cuter, softer, and more appealing than my boring, yucky and itchy boy briefs. My heart pounds in my chest as I contemplate undressing out of my t-shirt, jeans, socks, and itchy boy underwear. I take all my clothes off and stand naked in my sisters room. My knees tremble as I select from a neatly piled drawer full of knickies, the prettiest pink knickies my 6 year old sister wears. I place the knickies neatly on the bed of one of my sisters. I smooth down the pink knickies and run my hands over the smooth polyester material. I allow my fingertips to trace the soft petite lace trim on the waistband and legs of the pink knickies.

I can not resist taking up the pink knickies in my fingertips. I must wear them. I place the pretty pink knickies at my feet and I gentlly place one foot and set of toes into the leg opening of the pretty pink knickies, then the other foot and set of toes. As I raise the pretty pink knickies up my smooth and hairless legs the soft delicate lace trim of the pretty pink knickies tickles both of my legs. It is this sensation I live for everytime I practise this addiction forming habit for many years after discovering the tactile joy of my sisters pretties. As I raise the pretty pink knickies to my thighs and hips I feel I am about to faint. I feel totally different than I ever do in my ordinary boy clothing . I look at myself in the mirror built into the back of the door of my sisters wardrobe.

When I see myself in the mirror I act like a girl (or a sissy as some boys would call me if they saw me). I truly wished some boy or boys did see me. I would let them call me a sissy f*g. I am sure more than one boy amongst my tormentors would secretly find me attractive, and that’s what excites me, and drives me on to continue posing effeminately and very girlishly in front of the mirror. I don’t have a desire to be a teenage girl nor do I ever want to have a chest like a grown teenage girl (I adore the little girl look). Being a boy in pretty knickies, the forbidden secret pleasure of such is what I am excited and driven on by.

I am overcome now at this point to seek more of my younger sisters clothes. I know they have lots of slips, skirts, and dresses, and thats what I proceed to explore and seek out. I find a dainty knee length pink nylon slip of my 6 year old sisters. I have difficulty fitting into the slip as it is tight around my 12 year old boy chest and hips, after all the gorgoues little slip is meant for a 6 year old girl. Nevertheless I find I fit into it after a little effort. The sensation of the dainty and very petite pink nylon slip on my nipples and hips almost sends me over the edge. But I am careful not to get caught up in the moment. After all I still need to complete my dressing.

I go to my sisters wardrobe, wearing my now very petite pink knickies, and pink slip. If I am not careful I will lose control and I will have an “accident” in my 6 year old sisters pink knickies as the soft material of the knickies, pretty lace trim along the waist and leg opening , and soft tickling of the pink nylon slip on my tummy and hips will overpower me. I am careful not to allow this to happen. I go to my sisters wardrobe and I find the prettiest red dress my little 6 year old sister wears on special occassions.

The red dress has a short bodice, with a white lace trim Peter Pan style collar. In the centre of the collar in a neat lace ribbon bow is a black velvet ribbon. The dress has short puffed white lace trim elasticated sleeves. Perfect for a little girl. The skirt of the dress has row after row of perfecty symmetrically designed knee length pleats running from the bodice to the hem. The lower part of the dress flows outward to give the dress a swish effect. I discovered as an adult when I gained access to the internet that petticoats are an essential part of a little girls wardrobe, which I now wear all the time when I dress as a little girl. I take the dress of its hanger, place it against my body with my pretty pink nylon slip peeking out from the sides. I can not help myself talking and acting like a very young girl and pretending I am with my sisters who then say “oh that dress is perfect for you sis”. I must now put on the dress if I want to be the prettiest sissy boy ever. I open the back of the red pearl shaped button on the back of the dress and unzip the matching red zipper at the back of the dress that runs from the nape of the neck of the dress to the lower part of the bodice of the dress.

I lift the dress over my head as my dainty pink slip tickles my thighs, and my pretty pink knickies can be peeked under my nylon slip. How I have managed not to have an “accident” at this point is beyond me, but I have learnt to make my time in my sisters room to last for a long time. I reach round awkwardly to the back of the dress and fumble nervously to button the dress and zip it up. I almost faint when I see how pretty I look in my 6 year old sisters dress. I hold out the hem , swish around in the dress, and I dreamily admire myself in the dress when I catch glimpses of my pretty pink knickies and hints of my dainty pink nylon slip.

I find a pair of my 6 year old sisters white knee length socks with diamond shaped designs and a gorgoues pair of her unscuffed brown leather t bar sandals. Although it is a tight squeeze into her sandals, I still look pretty in them.

I completely lose track of time and I hear what I think is the abrupt arrival home of my mum and sisters return from the shopping trip they have been out on. So I run to my room, still dressed in my 6 year old sisters dress, slip, knickies, socks and sandals. I do in reality have the chance to sneak back into my own room with the door locked giving me the chance to both have my “accident” and the chance to undress.

But I really do want to be caught.

Part Two: Untrue (but how I wish it did happen)

As I run across the landing to try and find the safe haven of my bedroom I slip and fall. The hem of the dress catching between my knees causing me to fall. My 6 year old sister is climbing the stairs to the bathroom. She catches me in her dress. At first she is speechless but then she says “I am telling Mummy you are wearing my dress, and that you have been in our room”. I plead with her not to tell but she is having none of it. “Mummy” she shouts out. “Yes *******” my mother replies from the kitchen. “Mummy”, my sister calls out as she stares at me intently, “*******, has been in our room again, I have caught him wearing one of my dresses”. I cringe with embarrassment and I feel like crying.

My mother rushes to the end of the stairs and demands that I appear. “I knew it, I knew it” my mother says, “I knew you were going through your sisters things”. “The girls have told me time and time again it feels like their freshly washed underwear, slips and nighties have been worn before they even have the chance to put them on”. “Get down here at once” my mother demands.

I am crying and I feel utter shame and embarrassment being a 12 year old boy in my 6 year old sisters things, no one made me wear her things, and now I have to explain myself.

Mummy pushes me into the kitchen, and I am almost bent over in shame as my mother and three sisters are now looking at me, a pathetic 12 year old sissy boy in my 6 year old sisters red dress, pink nylon slip, petite pink knickies, pretty patterned white socks and childish brown sandals. “Stand at the end of the kitchen” my mother insists, “so we can see you in your sisters dress”.I am sniffingly and burning up with shame as tears of guilt run down my face.” I don’t think it is just my favourite dress ******* is wearing Mummy”, my 6 year old sister proclaims. My 6 year old sister literally stands beside me and without even seeking my permission or consent she raises the hem of my dress. “Look mummy he is even wearing one of my slips and knickies”. I feel totally humilated as she exposes me in her knickies.

My sister aged 11 ***** then suggests to the girls and my mummy that my hair is a mess. “You need your hair brushed you stupid boy” she declares. “Boys are so messy” she insists. My mother then fetches a small make up mirror and suggests that my 11 year old sister brushes my hair. “Sit down you stupid boy while I brush your hair” my 11 year old sister orders. I become confused at this point, I thought I would be ordered by my mother to take off my sisters things and I would be lectured to about not going into the girls bedroom again.

My 11 year old sister then proceeds to brush my hair. “What shall we name our new sister?” my 8 year old sister asks. “Lets call him Lisa ” my mother suggests. I sense that my sisters want to completely dominate me and if told too they would happily spank me very hard on my pink knickied behind as punishment for being in their room, and spank me even harder on my raised red dress and pink knickied behind for putting on their clothes.

“From now on when you are at home Lisa” my mother says, “you will be a sissy”. ”

“You will do as you are told, you will wear what we lay out for you and you will never wear boys things again when you are at home”.

“As your mother I will dress you as a little girl and your three sisters will dress you as a little girl in the prettiest and frilliest things”.

“From Monday onwards we will burn all your stupid boy clothes, and you will be dressed as a pretty little 5 year old girl when you are at home.”

“You will also begin to wear little girls knickies under your stupid boy school uniform, as a constant reminder to you that you will be dressed as a 5 year old girl when you return home from school”.

“You will have absolutely no choice in the matter”,mummy insists.

“You will also be completely at the whim of both myself and your three sisters, and we will treat you as we see fit, you stupid pathetic little sissy boy.”

” If we want to treat you as a little girl or we want to humilate you as a boy dressed as a girl you will have absolultey no say in the matter”.

“If we want you to vacum, dust or clean floors while you are dressed as a little girl,we will make you do so”, and we will have fun lifting your dresses to reveal your knickies as you do your household chores”.

“If we simply want to have you as a sweet petitely dressed little girl we will also do so”.

“Mmmmmmmmmh we might even dress you like a toddler girl too in diapers plastic panties and satin rompers and put you to bed very early, you stupid little boy”.

“Oh mummy ” my 11 year old sister demands “can we put him in some of your lingerie too, like a baby doll nightie, matching silk knickies, some sheer white silk stockings and suspenders too?”. “Oh my ” mummy says “the possibilites to humilate this little sissy boy are endless”.

“At all times you will be under our command” mummy declares.

My heart pounds in my chest under my pink nylon slip as the tears in my eyes dry up. I so desperately wnat to be the best little sissy boy as I begin my new home life as a sissy 5 year old girl. 

Story Ends