The Bet - Chapter 38 (Monday – week 6 Part 1 of 7)

The Bet
by Karen Singer

Chapter 38 (Monday – week 6 Part 1 of 7)


He wore a pink ballet outfit, complete with a silly little tutu that stuck out all around him… and bright pink patent leather high heel shoes on his feet. He danced joyfully – all around his new pool table. He danced past his huge new TV. His arms reached out gracefully as he twirled and danced past all the electronic gadgets that filled one of his new shelving units. It was everything he always wanted. And he was so happy.
As he danced he looked all around his beautiful new apartment. It was the most wonderful place he could imagine, filled with everything he loved. He danced through his kitchen, complete with brand new appliances, and cookware. He danced past his bathroom, elegantly decorated. But as he lingered near the bathroom door, he was aware that his bathroom no longer contained a toilet. Oh well, he didn’t need it anyway. He loved wearing his diapers, and he loved wearing his high heels, and he loved wearing all his pretty dresses – he knew he had a whole big closet full of them.
He had it all! Everything! And life was so good that he simply had to dance – for joy! He couldn’t wait to see what his friends would all think. He knew they were going to be so impressed. And his friends were due to arrive at any minute. It was time to change and be “the man” once again. “The man” that everyone would look up to!
He skipped through his bedroom with its beautiful new furniture – heavy furniture – substantial. He skipped straight to his huge walk-in closet and opened the door. Yes, it was time to be “the man” once again. But as he searched through his closet, all he found were little girl party dresses, he couldn’t seem to find any of his male clothes at all. Where were they? Panic started to set in as he moved dress after dress on the racks, looking behind them, looking below them, searching the shelves up above. Not one piece of his male wardrobe was anywhere that he could see. Where were his male things?
He ran from his closet towards his dresser, but as he got there, he glanced back towards his bed again. It was no longer the big wooden bed he had seen just a few minutes ago. A pink and white baby’s crib stood there now. He quickly pulled open one of his drawers. Oh yeah, that was his bra drawer. Nothing but bras in it now. He went on to the next drawer, waist cinchers and girdles! The next drawer held only scarves… he knew they were mostly there to be used as blindfolds over his eyes. Every drawer held only female things. Nothing remotely male.
Where were all his male clothes? His friends would be there any minute now!
He searched his bedroom desperately with his eyes, trying to figure out where he had put them. His changing table! He hurried toward it but nearly tripped over the rocking horse that was in his way. He pulled it aside, over toward the little table with the tea-set on it and hurried to the shelves under his changing table. Nothing but diapers and plastic panties there!
Where were his clothes? Where were his clothes? He couldn’t let all his friends see him dressed like he was! What was he going to do?
And then his doorbell rang, and he felt himself peeing a flood as he stood rooted in place by fear. They were here! What was he going to do?
Hide! Stay quiet! Don’t let them know he was home! Hopefully, they would all go away soon. But unbelievably, he heard his door opening and the sound of voices began filling his apartment! “Sissy. Where are you?”
More panicked than ever, he searched for a place to hide. But those places were very few. He ran back to his closet and straight inside. He quickly closed the door behind him. But he closed it too fast and it made too much noise! “Sissy. Where are you?” a voice from beyond the door called again. “I think I heard his closet door,” another voice replied.”
He huddled in the back of his closet as he heard his friends coming into his bedroom – and laughing. He heard them talking about his crib. He heard them talking about his changing table. He heard them talking about his playpen in the corner. What had happened to all the beautiful furniture that had filled his room just a few minutes ago?
Someone grabbed the handle of the closet door and he slunk down further, hiding himself behind his most sissy dresses. He heard his closet door opening. “Sissy, are you in here?” He wanted to cry with fear.
“Hey look!” someone exclaimed. “Are these all his?”
“Oooo, these are soooo pretty,” a female voice exclaimed.
“But what are these?” a male voice asked.
He heard them pulling at his clothes… all his beautiful sissy dresses. And then he heard laughter – more laughter.
“They’re dresses!” the female voice exclaimed. “Dresses for a big sissy baby! And it looks like he has so many of them!”
They were all pawing at his sissy dresses again, moving each of them, looking at each of them, moving ever closer to where he was hidden. Please go away! But his wishing did nothing at all. They were still there, and he was still hidden where they would soon find him if they kept looking.
And then the dim light that reached his eyes brightened as the frilly dresses in front of him were parted, exposing him completely to all his friends.
“Hey look! There he is!”
“What’s he wearing? Is that a ballet outfit?”
As he heard the laughter beginning all over again, someone reached down and grabbed his arm, pulling him up. No! No! He didn’t want them all to see him like this. But it was too late. Amid raucous laughter all around, he was pulled up and out of his closet and pushed out into a room full of people. So many people! All of them looking over all the baby things in his room. He wondered again what had become of his other furniture.
“He’s wearing a sissy ballet outfit!” someone exclaimed as everyone turned to look straight at him.
Panic filled every square inch of him.
“Dance for us, Sissy. Dance!”
But he didn’t want to dance, he wanted to hide!
Something slapped painfully against the back of his legs and he jumped with surprise. “Dance for us Sissy!” the order came. He turned and saw someone holding Mel’s yardstick in his hands – ready to use it on him once again. He felt himself peeing yet again with fear.
“Dance, Sissy. Dance!” a woman shouted gleefully. And then she began clapping her hands rhythmically. Everyone else began clapping with her. “Dance Sissy. Dance!”
The painful slap came to the back of his legs again, propelling him forward. He danced again, but not the joyful dance he had done earlier, now it was the dance of fear as he wound his way between so many small groups of people filling his room. Who were they all? How could there be so many? And they all kept clapping as he danced around them, fearful that if he stopped, he would get punished once again.
He grew tired. He was crying, harder and harder. What had happened to all his wonderful bedroom furniture? He danced out into his living room – more people, all standing around in small groups, some were playing pool on his new pool table – at least that much was still there. He happened to notice the pictures on his walls though, colorful child’s drawings that he had done in the restaurants. How had they gotten on his walls again?
And then, to his horror, the pool table began to fade into nothing. His TV and the shelf of electronics began fading too, almost melting away into a misty fog that soon evaporated. His wonderful living room was soon filled with only people. No furniture except for one ugly chair. What had happened to it all? “What happened?” he cried out in anguish.
The people around him weren’t laughing anymore. He was suddenly aware that they seemed angry, hostile instead.
“What did you think?” a man’s menacing voice spoke from behind him, “that you could have it all?” There was more laugher, but it was a cruel laughter. “You don’t deserve any of the things you had here! You’re a sissy! You can’t have them!”
Everyone was suddenly chanting “Sissy, sissy, sissy.” Over and over again. Their accusations aimed straight at him. “Sissy, sissy, sissy.” He never felt so horrible in all his life!
And then the most horrible loud noise startled him, almost like music. Rock music! And it went on and on… so loud! So horrible! So…
He pulled himself out of sleep. Ugh! What had he been dreaming? The blaring music from his pink clock radio was some of the worst he had ever heard – irritating! He fought himself off of his blow-up mattress and onto his knees on the floor and quickly reached over to turn the annoying thing off. The silence that immediately filled the room was like a physical sensation, and it felt good. He glanced around his room, his mostly empty room. It was morning again. Monday. A work day. Ugh!

Mel rolled over and brought her knees up almost to her chest. The discomfort in her abdomen was mostly in the background, but it was still there – and it was annoying. She finally couldn’t take it any more and she rolled over and pulled her covers off. She sat up on the bed to take stock for a minute. She hated the times when she had to deal with her period. It was so… annoying!
Grunting with the effort, she got to her feet and pulled her robe around her, more for comfort than for its warmth. She had to decide then, bathroom or coffee? She had to check the pad she had put in last night. She also had to pee again. But she could hold her pee for a few minutes more and it was only the first day of her period so her pad should be just fine for now. The coffee pot won.
She didn’t head to the bathroom till she had taken her first sip of coffee, and then she carried the cup with her.

Chad sat in his only chair and stared at his wall while he drank the first of the three baby bottles he had to finish this morning. His wall was becoming more and more “decorated.” Well, colorful anyway. He wasn’t sure he would really call what was on his wall “decorating.” Sitting where he was, he clearly noticed the two new additions – pictures that Sandy had done showing the two possible versions of his life. One was what he wanted. The other was what Mel wanted… or maybe what he wanted… or… he just wasn’t sure. It was still all so confusing.
The crayoned pictures he had done in the restaurant mocked him annoyingly, reminding him that it was he himself who had colored them so childishly. Never mind the fact that he had been forced to do it while still trying to drink from a baby bottle – in the restaurant. Never mind that he had only been given just a few crayons to work with and nothing more. They looked childishly done. And he was the child who had done them.
As he stared at the pictures, his one hand unconsciously reached up and grabbed his earlobe and began playing with the earring in it. So hard against the softness of his flesh around it. So odd to feel there.
The pictures screamed to him that he was nothing but a big sissy baby. The bottle in his mouth did the same. He didn’t even have to think about the overly bloated and very messy diapers he was wearing. His eyes wandered up the wall to the picture that showed his living room as he wanted it, complete with pool table and a huge TV. It was so out of place amid everything else on his wall – everything else that screamed out what he really was – a sissy.
How could he possibly think he even deserved such things? Why was he even trying?
And then a new thought reached into him. What would everyone think of him if he didn’t win the bet? How would everyone treat him? They would all laugh – that much was for sure! He could never hold his head up with respect again.
He looked at the pictures again, all of them seeming to mock him for what he really was. And as he continued to finish his baby bottle, he realized that he absolutely had to win the bet. He had to find a way out of all the sissyness, no matter how much he loved it.
As he grabbed his second bottle of the morning, he felt himself peeing again, totally without warning of any kind that he was going to do it. As he put the bottle to his mouth and began sucking on it, he realized that he was going to have to start holding back again, holding back so he could regain all the control he had lost. The weekend had been especially hard on that control. Mel had forced him to keep peeing so much that he was starting to get a real sense of what no control at all was like. But he knew he was far from that point. He had to be! Besides, he knew his body well, he always regained everything quickly. He would win for sure! He would have his pool table and his life back. He would have his friends and his self-respect! A little while later, all three bottles finished, he got up and headed toward his bathroom and felt himself peeing yet again. He would win this bet. He would regain his control. But first he had to figure out how to realize again – when it was that he was going pee!