Sound Sissy

by Karen Singer

 

Part 5: Aftermath of the Storm

 

We spent the rest of the day moving Cindy into my apartment. I dressed as a boy again, although with panties underneath (a given), and now I was wearing earrings. I wanted to take the earrings out now that the trip was over and let the holes close up again, but Cindy wouldn't hear of it, the extra humiliation was starting already. "Well, I thought to myself, "lots of guys wear earrings now." I just hoped that what I wore wasn't too feminine.

We moved Cindy into Tom's old room. Cindy wasn't ready to stay in the same room with me yet. It was a start though. Tom had taken a lot of our things and the apartment looked a little bare. That turned out to be a good thing. Cindy had enough stuff to fill all the bare spaces – and then some.

 

Monday morning, I had my usual full load of classes. Accounting from 8:00 to 9:30, then I had to get over to the Science Building for my Circuitry class from 10:00 to 12:30, then to the building next door for Literature from 1:00 to 2:30.

Cindy didn't start that day until 9:30, but she was up just before I left and said goodbye. "Those earrings Elaine gave you look good on you," she said.

"I just hope they're not too feminine looking," I answered, a little concerned.

"So what if they are?" she replied. "By the way, have you figured out what you're going to do about the bathrooms yet?" she asked.

"Not really," I answered. "I may just have to break my word and use the men's room later."

"You better not!" she said. "You know you'll be very sorry if Stan gets word of it, and you know how quickly things seem to get back to him."

"I know," I said, "I'll just have to figure out something when the time comes. See you later." And I left.

Accounting class was boring. The professor was late as usual because he hated early morning classes and again as usual, wound up letting us out late. I ran over to the Science Building and was about to make my usual stop in the men's room just before class when I heard one of my friends call me. "Hey Don, or is it Karen now?" he teased.

"It's Don today," I answered him blushing a little and wondering how word could have spread that fast.

"I just talked with Stan," he continued. "Did you really swear that you would never use a men's room again since you're sissy and not a man?"

It was easy to see that Stan had been hard at work already and I knew that I was going to be in trouble. "I'm afraid so," I said.

"Then you're not really going in there?" he asked me.

"Ah, no," I replied, "I wasn't. I almost forgot though. Thanks for reminding me."

"No problem," he said. And then to add insult to injury, he walked into the men's room.

I just stared at the closed door. This was definitely going to be a problem, I thought. I wasn't sure if I could make it to the end of class without having to pee.

Why is it, that whenever you need something, and you can't have it, that need becomes ten times greater? As I sat through circuitry class, my need to pee grew terribly. By 11:00 I was squirming. I couldn't concentrate on what was being said in class. All I could think about was that I needed to pee. By 12:00, I couldn't stand it anymore and I abruptly picked up my books and ran out. As luck would have it, Rog was standing in the hall outside the men's room. He just waved as I ran past. I ran over to the Student Union building.

As I went inside, I saw Cindy talking with some of her friends. "Don, come over here," she called to me as I was about to run past her to the men's room there.

"You're out of class early," she added.

"I need to pee, really bad," was all I said.

"Hi Karen," one of her friend said giggling.

"Ah, hi," I answered. Even Cindy was spreading the word about our weekend, but I should have expected that. At the moment I was too desperate to pee. "Cindy," I asked, "can I use the ladies room please. I'm really desperate."

"No!" said Cindy and the other girls together.

"You know the rules, only when you're dressed like a girl," Cindy said.

"That would be fine with me," one of her friends said. "I wouldn't mind if you were dressed like a girl, but not if you're dressed like a boy."

"Cindy, I really need to pee!" I said.

"Well I'm sorry," she answered, "but I can't help you. I don't have a solution for you!"

"Thanks anyway," I said as I ran off.

I ran to my car thinking to drive back to my apartment and use the bathroom there. Halfway to the parking lot, I started to wet myself a little, then a little more. By the time I reached my car, I didn't have to pee anymore, but my pants, socks and shoes were soaked. There were also plenty of people who saw me walking around with very obviously wet pants. It was very embarrassing, to say the least.

I drove home, changed, peed again, and finally drove back for my next class. I didn't have time to grab a snack, and I was almost late getting to that class. I really needed a solution to this problem.

Late that afternoon, I was in my room studying, or I was trying to study. All I could really concentrate on though, was how was I going to get through the day without using the men's rooms anymore. It seemed that the band had blabbed the word to everybody already and it felt like the whole school was now watching me. I had a real problem.

Cindy finally came home around 5:00 after her last class. She was carrying her backpack full of books and a large shopping bag. "Hi Don," she called out as she came into the apartment, "I'm home."

"Hi Cindy," I said, going out to meet her.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Fine, I guess," I answered. "I still don't know what to do about my problem," I said. We had been in Literature class together and had talked for just a minute about what had happened so she knew about me wetting my pants earlier.

"Here," she said handing me the bag she was carrying. "One of my friends came up with the perfect solution for you," she said smilingly.

"What?" I asked suddenly excited.

"Open it and see," was all she said. I opened the large bag and got a big shock. There was a package of adult sized disposable diapers in it. "Now you don't have to worry about not being able to use the men's rooms anymore, and you don't have to worry about wetting your pants either," she said.

"Cindy, I can't wear diapers," I said.

"Well, I don't think you have much of a choice," she answered. "You certainly don't want a repeat of what happened today, do you?"

I just took the bag and put it in my room. Neither of us mentioned it again that day.

The next morning, when I dressed for class, I hesitated, then thought "What the heck," and I wore one of the diapers instead of panties. My pants fit OK, but to be honest with you, they were a lot tighter around that diaper. I hoped that no one could tell what I was wearing under them.

"Are you wearing a diaper today?" Cindy asked as we went out the door together.

"Yes," I said sheepishly.

"I'll meet you later at the Student Union building for lunch to see how you're doing," she replied. It was going to be another long morning I knew.

Classes went OK that morning, and while the need to pee, gradually built up in me, it wasn't as bad as it was the day before. For some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to use my diapers to relieve myself. By the time I met Cindy later at the Student Union building, I had to pee pretty badly again.

I found Cindy talking to those same two friends she had been talking with the day before. "Hi Don," she said as I walked up.

"Hi Karen," one of her friends teased again.

"Hi," I said to them all.

"How are the diapers working?" Cindy asked.

"I haven't tried using them yet," I said.

"Do you need to pee?" she asked.

"Pretty badly," I answered.

"Then why don't you wet them?" she asked.

"I just don't want to," I replied.

"That's silly," she said. "You're going to have to learn to use them sometime. I think you should do it right now," she said.

"Ah, I just can't," I said.

"Do it!" she commanded.

"Ok," I said, "I'll try," and I started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" she stopped me.

"I didn't want to do it in front of anybody," I answered her.

"Yes you are!" she said. "You're going to stand right here until I'm convinced that you've wet yourself, thoroughly!" she commanded.

"But Cindy," I started.

"Do it!" she commanded again.

Her two friends were staring wide-eyed and were doing all they could to keep from laughing outright. Life did not seem to be offering me a lot of choices lately, so I screwed up my courage and tried to let my pee out into my diapers just a little bit. I didn't want to wet them completely and I was afraid they might leak. But as fate would have it, once the dam was breached, the whole flood was let loose.

It must have shown plainly in my face as soon as it happened, because Cindy's two friends suddenly started rolling with laughter. I was most thoroughly embarrassed.

"Are you finished?" asked Cindy eventually. I just nodded my head. "Let me see," she said. And she reached out and grabbed my crotch, squeezing it, trying to get a good feel at the diapers underneath. "Yep, you're wet all right," she said as she finally took her hand away.

"Can I feel?" one of her friends asked.

"Sure," she replied. I wasn't even consulted on the matter. "Spread your legs a little," was all she said to me.

Both her friends took turns feeling my wet diaper through my pants. "Oh, the first one said. You can feel how warm it is, and you can really feel how wet he must be."

When the second one took her turn, she added, "Gee, I can't feel his cock and balls at all in there. You must have really done a good job on them like you said Cindy."

There were a lot of other students watching us. I'm sure my face was beet red. "Ok," Cindy said eventually, "lets get something to eat before we have to get back to class."

"Ah, Cindy," I said, "shouldn't I go home and change first?"

"Why?" she asked. "You're not leaking anywhere, and you don't have time. Besides, I think this is something you're going to have to get used to. I think you're going to have to spend a lot of time in wet diapers from now on. So just get used to it."

And I did, spend time in wet diapers that is. I never really got used to it. It was just another fact that I learned to accept.

 

Cindy and I settled into life together quickly and easily. She had spent a lot of time at my apartment before, so we knew each other pretty well. Most of the time, Cindy preferred me to be Karen whenever we were staying home. And at those times, I felt more like we were close girlfriends than boyfriend and girlfriend. I learned to enjoy the times we would do each other's nails, or try on each other's clothes, or just spend the evening studying together as two girls. Besides, being dressed as Karen meant that I didn't have to wear diapers. It became a habit for me that whenever I dressed as Don, I automatically wore diapers, and as Cindy insisted, learned to use them.

 

It was over a month before the glue on my penis started to break down and everything started to come apart. As soon as it did, Cindy finally allowed me to soak everything in nail polish remover to speed up the process. It still took another few days to get everything completely unglued. The whole area was raw and itched terribly. I could hardly stand for anything to touch it. To help in the healing process, Cindy coated everything very heavily in a diaper rash ointment for about two weeks. During that time, I found that I had to wear my diapers under everything – all the time, or risk all that ointment staining my clothes.

Cindy, true to her nature, also kept trying to expose my sissy nature in public. She took me shopping one day and insisted that I wear pantyhose under my jeans instead of socks. I was nervous about people noticing but that turned out to be the least of my worries. One of the first stores we went into was a shoe store, where she insisted I try on and buy a new pair of heels. The shoes we picked out were a pair of black pumps with about a two and a half inch heel and a strap that came across the top. The salesgirl was amused and commented on my stocking clad feet and the red polish on my toenails. I tried the shoes on and walked around in them for a minute, they fit fine. When I took them off and started to put my sneakers on again, Cindy stopped me. "I think you should wear your new shoes," she said.

"Cindy, you know I can't do that," I said.

"Why not?" she said, "you're wearing pantyhose."

"Cindy, the pantyhose aren't that noticeable. Most of the time, they can't really be seen. If I wear these shoes, everybody can see them all the time, I can't hide them at all."

Cindy put a stern look on her face and stood directly in front of me. "Look at me!" she commanded. "Are you a man, or are you a sissy?"

I immediately knew that I was defeated. "I'm a sissy," I answered her softly.

"I couldn't hardly hear that," she said, "say it louder!"

"I'm a sissy," I said again louder and with more conviction.

"Now look at those shoes," she commanded again. "Which pair are more fitting for a sissy to wear?" she asked.

"These are," I said pointing to the new heels. "So if you're a sissy, and those are more appropriate for a sissy, which pair are you going to wear?"

I looked at her with a pleading look on my face, but it was hopeless. I finally picked up the new shoes and said to the salesgirl, "I think I'd like to wear these out of the store please."

Cindy looked very satisfied, the salesgirl looked like she didn't know whether to be shocked or to break apart laughing. She was probably both. So I wound up spending the best part of the day walking around the mall in high heels.

 

It was just before Thanksgiving when I came back to our apartment one day and Cindy said, "Your mother called, she's coming for a visit."

"When?" I asked.

"This weekend," she answered. "She was going to stay at a hotel, but I told her she could use your room and that you wouldn't mind staying with me. I think she's curious about me and wants to get to know me," Cindy added.

I hardly ever got to see my mother anymore. My father had died when I was six, and she had worked hard to raise me and keep a roof over our heads. At one time, we were very close, but now, I lived away at school all the time, year round in fact, and she had managed to work her way up to being the regional manager for her company. She traveled all the time and was making oodles of money now, something that she made sure I never lacked. I guess it was her way of compensating for not seeing me anymore. It was a matter of pride to me that I tried to make my own way as much as possible, and saved most of the money she sent me in the bank, but a lot of it did get spent on sound equipment and clothes.

Mom's schedule allowed her to stay from late Saturday until Monday morning. Before she came, I wanted to move all of Karen's things out of my room, but Cindy said, "Why bother, she probably won't even notice, or else she'll think they're mine." So I left most of the stuff right where it was.

When she arrived, the first thing she said was "Donald," (for some reason, she's the only person in the world who calls me Donald) "your ears are pierced! Personally, I think your earrings are a little on the feminine side, but I know that you young people have your own styles so it's not for me to say."

"Hi Mom," I finally said as I gave her a big hug.

It was good to see her again and she took us all out to dinner that night. She seemed to really like Cindy too. Since Cindy was a business major, they both had a lot in common to talk about. I think Cindy was in heaven having a big executive to talk with for a while.

We stayed up late that night talking and just getting to know each other. I could tell she liked Cindy and that made me feel glad. Eventually, my mother finally said she was going to bed and headed off for my room as Cindy and I picked up the dishes from the snacks we had all had.

A few minutes after she left us, Mom was back again. "Cindy," she said, "I hope you don't mind, I moved some of your dresses so I could hang up my clothes for tomorrow. Is that alright? You seem to have lots of things in Donald's closet."

Trust Cindy to always tell the truth. "Oh, they're not my things," said Cindy, "they're Don's."

That did it. The cat was out of the bag. Mom just stared at us. "What?" she said.

"They're Don's," Cindy repeated softly.

"What are you talking about?" Mom said. I could see the panic starting to raise itself in her face. "My son wears dresses? Since when? When did all this start? What's going on? Donald, explain yourself!"

It was hopeless, the proof was right there in my closet and in most of my dresser drawers. And she had already seen it. So I tried as calmly as I could to tell her the truth that I liked to wear girl's clothes whenever I could.

Unfortunately, she didn't understand at all. She just couldn't seem to grasp the idea. The one thing she did grasp though, was the idea that somehow she had failed in raising me right. "It's all my fault!" she cried at one point. "After your father died, I never remarried. I thought you were just fine, but you really needed a man to raise you instead of me. I failed you!" she cried. Then she just turned and ran off to the bedroom, crying as she slammed the door.

"You go to bed," said Cindy, "I'll talk to her."

I felt really bad. Another aspect of my life was in trouble. I had disappointed my own mother, and it didn't feel good. I just didn't know any way to make it all better. I went into Cindy's room, put my nightgown on, and climbed into bed with tears in my eyes.

It was a long time before I could go to sleep. I heard Cindy knock on Mom's door and ask if she could come in and talk. I heard the low mumbling of the two of them talking for a while, but I couldn't make out anything that was said. At one point, I did hear a very strong "He did what?" from my Mom, followed a few seconds later by "You're kidding!" But that's all I ever heard. I never did hear Cindy come to bed that night. I think I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up late. Cindy was in bed beside me and was still sound asleep. I had to pee, so I went out to the bathroom. I left my nightgown on thinking that my mother was probably still sound asleep too. When I came out of the bathroom however, I saw that Mom was already up and drinking some coffee on the couch. She stared at me in my nightgown. I was very embarrassed. Her eyes were red and she didn't look like she had had much sleep. "Let me see you Donald," she said calmly.

I was grateful for her calm tone. I walked into the living room and stood in front of her. She didn't say anything about me being in a nightgown, but just stared at me for a while. "Cindy and I had a long talk last night," she said finally.

"I know," I said still ashamed.

"She told me everything about you," she continued. "She also tried to convince me that this is not my fault and that it's some kind of an inner need that you have. It must be a very strong need for you to live the way you do."

"I guess it is," I replied. I didn't know what else to say, and to tell the truth, I think I was a little afraid to say anything else.

Cindy came out of the room at that point and said "Good morning," to both of us. Then she came over to me and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek. It made me feel a little better. Sometimes, it's comforting to have a little reminder that someone loves you, especially when you're faced with adversity.

"I didn't sleep much last night," my mother said, "and I spent a long time thinking. Donald, I don't know much about men like you, and I don't understand it at all. I do know that I'm going to be doing a lot of research on the subject. I also know that no matter what, you're still my only son, and I love you. I may not understand you, but I want you to know that I do still love you."

"Thanks Mom," I said, "I love you too."

"I've spent a lot of time thinking about this last night, and if this is so important to you, and so much a part of you, I had better be more familiar with it. I want you to do me a favor, when you get dressed today, I want you to dress as Karen. I think it's important that I get to know her a little." I was definitely surprised.

"Sure Mom," I said. "If you want, I can do that." This was going a lot better than I ever thought it would. I had envisioned my mother disowning me and refusing to ever have anything to do with me again. I was definitely a little apprehensive about being dressed like a girl in front of my mother, but if she was willing to go this far with me, it was the least I could do. Besides, she was right about this being such a big part of me, and maybe it would be better for her to get to know me as Karen.

I went off to shower and shave, leaving Cindy and my mother to talk some more over their coffee. I felt a lot better knowing that my mother wasn't going to be spending the day in tears or yelling at me, at least I hoped she wouldn't.

When I came out of the bathroom, I went into my room to figure out what I should wear. Cindy came in after me. "What are you going to wear today?" she asked.

"I was just wondering that myself," I said.

"May I make a suggestion," she said.

"Please," I replied.

"Wear something casual today, like you do when you're just hanging around studying. You don't want her to get any wrong ideas, and it's really more of the real you. Besides, we are just going to be hanging around here all day anyway. You might as well be as comfortable as possible."

"I guess you're probably right," I said. So when I got dressed, I put on my panties, bra, falsies, pantyhose, a pink cable-knit sweater, my jeans-skirt, and my casual loafer-like shoes. I put a bracelet on my wrist and changed the studs in my ears for small gold hoop style earrings.

"Would you like me to do your makeup for you," Cindy asked, "you look a little nervous today."

I was nervous. I was just hoping it didn't show that badly. I started to tell her that I would do my makeup myself, but after having a lot of trouble fastening my bracelet, I realized that my hands weren't all that steady. "Maybe it would be better if you did it today," I told her. "I don't seem to be all that coordinated this morning.

So Cindy sat me down and did a light makeup job on me.

Then it was show time. There was no longer any excuse for staying out of sight in my room. I was as ready as I ever was going to be. Part of me was excited, but the rest of me was just plain nervous. When I walked out into the living room, Mom was still on the couch, but she now had a lot of her paperwork spread out around her.

"Here I am," was all I could think to say at the time. Lame, I know, but that's what came out.

Mom just looked at me for a second. I couldn't tell anything about what she was thinking from her face. "Turn around," she said after a few seconds. So I slowly turned all the way around. "Very nice," she finally said when I had turned full circle. "I'm certainly glad to see you didn't try to look like a slut today."

"Um, I usually dress pretty casually like this around the apartment," I said to her.

"Very sensible," she said then added, "anyone for some brunch? I'm getting hungry!"

And that, for some reason, was the icebreaker. We all just needed to do something and stop staring at each other.

We spent the whole day fairly quietly. Mom never called me anything except Karen. It was a strange feeling. I'm quite sure it was for her too. She took a much-needed nap in the afternoon while Cindy and I hit the books, and later, Cindy spent over an hour interviewing her about her job and her business ideas.

At one point, Cindy suggested we all go into the kitchen and make cookies. "I haven't made cookies in years," Mom said, "that would be fun."

That time we spent making cookies was probably the highlight of my day. I was finally able to relax and just be one of the girls again. We all had a good time and we all laughed and giggled like schoolgirls.

Later that evening, we were sitting on the couch watching TV and eating cookies. Cindy was in her room for a few minutes so it was just the Mom and I. "Do you really wear diapers like a baby?" Mom asked me quietly.

"Whenever I'm dressed as a boy," I answered her.

"Were you wearing them yesterday when I arrived?" she asked.

"Yes, I was," I answered her. And that's the only mention she made of it that day.

Monday morning, Mom had to leave just before I did. Since I was going to class and leaving the apartment, I was naturally dressed as Don. As I gave her a big hug and a kiss goodbye, she playfully asked me "Are you wearing your diapers today?"

"Of course," I answered her, surprised that she would even ask.

"Thank you for the weekend," she said, "it was most… interesting," she finally added after searching for the right word. "See you for Christmas in a few weeks." And she left.

What a strange weekend. I doubt I'll ever forget it as long as I live.

  

  

  

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