Sissy’s Bedtime

Mother and I had driven up the motorway to spend the week with my cousins and aunt in Nottinghamshire. Since my mother began petticoating me a few months ago, this was a rare opportunity to spend some time wearing my boy clothes. As the car pulled up outside their house, my mother reminded me to be a good boy, otherwise, I would have my bottom smacked, very hard, in front of everyone.
“Yes mother,” I promised.
We’d been there about four or five hours when my aunt commented on how well behaved I was being, before reminiscing about the mischief I’d caused in the past. My mother said I’d ‘grown out of’ all that nastiness, and these days, I’m a good boy…. but didn’t offer any hints as to why. Even though nobody could see them, I never once forgot about the frilly stretchy pink satin I had been made to wear… and with those in mind, I made sure I remained on my best behaviour.
Later that evening, we sat watching TV and an upcoming film was advertised. My cousins, Deborah and Sabrina really wanted to watch it and asked if we could all stay up late. It was almost 9pm and usually I’d go to bed at 10pm… the same time as my cousins. The film finished at 11.15pm and, on the condition we all get ready for bed now… then we could stay up late.
Deborah and Sabrina cheered, leapt off the sofa and dashed to their room to change in to their nighties. Not having unpacked, my mother escorted me to the spare room we’d both be sharing.
I glanced around the room and, seeing only a single bed, asked “Am I sleeping on the floor?”
“Yes.” my mother replied. “But I got you one of these.” she smiled, revealing a candy pink cylindrical bag.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a ready bed.” she replied, passing it to me. “Why don’t you unpack it whilst I get your nightclothes ready.
I unzipped the bag and removed the ‘ready bed’, which is an inflatable mattress and sleeping bag all in one. Unfortunately for me, it had the Disney Princesses on it! “Mum why didn’t you get me a boys one?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Because petticoated boys don’t deserve boy things.” mum said in her chirpy ‘talking down to me’ voice. “Plus… it matches your nighties.” she said as she laid one on the bed.
“Oh mum… why didn’t you bring me my pyjamas?”
“Because you prefer your nighties.” she replied.
“But… if I wear that they’ll know.” I pleaded.
“Well all your jim-jams are just as pink and prissy.” mum reminded me.
“I meant my old ‘boys’ pyjamas.”
“You don’t wear boys pyjamas any more Peter. You know the rules.” she said.
I knew not to argue too much these days, so as usual, I just shut up and put up. After pumping up my princess ready bed, I swallowed my pride and began to remove my clothes. Mother seemed to relish getting me ready for bed… as if my shame was her drug; a nightly fix she needed, no matter what. Although used to the routine it was, until now, between me and my mother… soon my aunt and cousins would bear witness to a petticoated boy at bedtime. I couldn’t help but shed a handful of tears as she got me ready for bed… garment by humiliating garment.
His tears dried up, a trembling Peter is escorted back to the sitting room by his mother. The girls each wear their casual, almost androgynous nightclothes. Sabrina’s plaid nightie could easily pass as a boy’s nightshirt, and Deborah’s grey pyjamas bore no girlie details or patterns…
Peter’s nightclothes on the other hand, are as girlie as girlie can be. Short puffed sleeves, a large satin bow around the lace trimmed collar, no less than four layers of petticoats. On his feet, a dainty pair of baby pink ballet slippers, each adorned with a white satin bow.
The front of his nightdress is decorated with a picture of Aurora from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty under a crescent moon with the words ‘Princess Dreams’ printed in ornate italic lettering. There is nothing even remotely androgynous about Peter’s nightclothes. From the tips of his toes to the tops of his shoulders he’s as girlie as girlie can be. Peter watched his cousin’s jaws simultaneously dropped as they cast their eyes over him… a pink and white blancmange perched on a pair long, thin, pale legs. The cherry on top being their cousin’s bright red face.
“That’s a lovely nightie Peter.” his aunt said with a sarcastic smile. “And those slippers too! You look adorable.”
“Thank you.” Peter meekly murmured.
“Why are you wearing a girl’s nightie?” Deborah asked through the widest grin
Sabrina hid her giggles behind her hand, before saying, “That’s not a girl’s nightie… that’s more like a baby’s nightie!”
Three weeks of petticoating. Three weeks of secrecy. Now the proverbial cat is out of the bag and that very same cat has got Peter’s tongue! He just stands silent and shy as his cousins sit grinning and giggling at him.
“Move up girls and let Peter sit down.” his aunt said. The girls shifted to each end of the sofa, and a petrified Peter sat between them. His voluminous yet short night dress filled the space between the two girls but left his pale thin legs fully exposed.
“You’ve shaved your legs!” Sabrina, the elder of the two girls said.
Peter didn’t reply. He couldn’t reply. He just shifted nervously in his nightie, trying and failing to at least cover a bit of his lap with it.
“Why is he so girlie Auntie Pat?” Deborah asked his mother.

“Because it’s the only way he can behave himself.” Peter’s mother replied. “He never gives any cheek or answers back when he’s petticoated. Don’t you Peter?”

All eyes looked at Peter. He gulped and shook his head.

“I discovered that the only way he can be a good boy is to dress him as a girl.” his mother explained to his gob smacked cousins. “We all know that girls are better than boys so it makes perfect sense when you think about it.” she added as the girls grinned and nodded.

“Does he wear dresses too?” Deborah asked.

“Of course… every day.” his mother replied. “Except for school.” she paused as smiled at her son. “There he can wear his boy clothes so long as he doesn’t complain about wearing his girl clothes at home.” she told her nieces.

“He was dressed as a boy today though.” Sabrina pointed out.

“Well he did have some girls clothing on on.” his mother replied. “Didn’t you Peter?”

He nervously nodded as all eyes turned on him once more.

“Does he wear knickers?” Deborah asked, sniggering at the thought of it. “Girl’s knickers!?”

“Of course he does.” his mother replied on his behalf

“Do you like them?”

Peter shook his head, but kept his eyes fixated on his knees.

“Of course you do!” his mother insisted. “He pretends he doesn’t because he doesn’t want people thinking he’s a sissy.”

“I’m not a sissy!” Peter muttered.

“Of course you’re not.” his mother said reassuringly. “But you are very pretty… far to pretty for boring boy’s clothes.”

“Did you bring any with you?” Sabrina asked. “Dresses… I mean.”

Peter gulped and looked at his mother, as she did his packing.

“No.” his mother replied.

“Phew!” thought Peter.

“Oh that’s a shame.” Sabrina sulked. “I’d like to see him wearing a dress… especially now we’ve seen his nightie.” she grinned.

“Well I thought it would be nice to give him a few days respite.” his mother said, explaining what respite means. “He’s been ever so good since his petticoating began so he’s earned a few days off.”

“What’s Petticoating?” Deborah asked.

Peter’s mother explained to her nieces that petticoating is simply a way of making sure naughty boys, like Peter, be on their best behaviour. “…and as you can see, it works wonders!” she said proudly. “I wish I’d started it years ago.” she added, smiling at her sister-in-law.

“I wish I’d suggested it years ago.” Peter’s aunt added. “Ideally boys should begin petticoating before they reach puberty… fourteen is a little late but…” she paused and cast a smile at her nephew.

“Well better late than never.” his mother said. “He’s already got a few favourites… which is nice.” she added, casting a patronising smile towards her son.

“Has he?! That’s nice to hear.” his aunt said, throwing the boy a similar smile.

“Yes… I bought him one of those gingham school dresses and he likes wearing that.” his mother told his aunt.

“Only because you don’t have to button me into it.” Peter mumbled. “And it doesn’t have any bows.”

“You like the colour too.” his mother reminded him.

“What colour is it?” his aunt asked.

“Green.” Peter gulped.

“Oh nice… I’ll bet you look very sweet as a schoolgirl.” his aunt replied. “Wouldn’t you like to wear a girl’s uniform for school?”

“Would I fuck!!” he silently screamed. “Not really.” he murmured.

“Unfortunately…” his mother began, “…his headmistress won’t allow it in spite of my insistence that it’s an infringement of the equality laws.” she said. “But he does wear it whilst he does his homework… don’t you dear?”

Peter gulped and nodded.

“I think all boys should have to dress like girls.” Deborah said.

“Not all boys surely?” Sabrina retorted.

“Not all boys need petticoating.” their mother stated, casting a beady eye towards her nephew.

Fortunately, the film began and Peter’s petticoated state ceased to be the centre of attention. His cousins drank numerous glasses of pop throughout the film. Peter on the other hand barely touched his drink, served in a pink spill proof beaker. The girls couldn’t help but tease him, telling him how nice his beaker is and asking which princess is one it.

Prompted by his mother, he meekly replies “Cinderella.”

“Is she your favourite?” Sabrina grinned. “Or is Aurora your favourite?” she asked, since she’s printed on his prissy pink nightdress.

Peter shrugged and his mother said, “I don’t think he has a favourite… in fact I don’t think he’s seen any of the films.” she added.

The girls are flabberghasted at this claim. Surely everyone has seen most, if not all of the Disney Princess films. “We’ve got the box set.” Deborah announced.

Sabrina suggested watching some over the weekend, but Deborah said she’d rather not, since they’re for kids. “I know but… I think Peter might enjoy them.” Sabrina grinned.

“I doubt it.” Peter grumbled.

They quietened down as the movie picked up its pace. Once the film was over and much to Peter’s displeasure, his mother asked, “Do you need changing before bed Peter?”

Peter gulped and shook his head.

“Changing?” Sabrina hesitantly asked.

“His nappy.” Peter’s mother replied.

“But he’s too old for nappies… he’s not a baby are you Peter!?” Deborah sniggered.

“No but he is petticoated… and all petticoated boys wear a nappy for bed. Don’t they Peter?”

Peter sniffed and nodded. Deborah and Sabrina sniggered before shuffling off to their bedroom. All his hopes of a few day’s respite from the humiliation of petticoating had been dashed… slashed in fact.

Related Articles

Log in with your credentials

Forgot your details?