Annie and Mommy at the Mall

This slightly fictionalized tale is based on what annie's Mommy, Ms. Holly, told me of their most recent visit to the mall.

 

Annie’s Mommy sat before her pretty sissy and looked into her blank, glazed eyes. Annie was deep in trance and Mommy was giving her new instructions. “When you hear the words Is Sissy Happy? you will sing your song to the tune of  ‘I'm a little teapot’ and then curtsy! After all, sissy annie loves to show everyone what a sissy she is, doesn’t she?” 

“Yes, Mommy, I understand,” annie responded in a monotone.

 “When you introduce yourself you will say ‘I am Mommy's little sissy darling,’ do a deep curtsy, and produce your sissy ID card,” Mommy continued. “because you are proud to be my little sissy, aren’t you, dear?”

 

“Yes, Mommy, I understand,” annie replied.

 

“When you hear the words annie's panties you will lift your skirt and show them off,” Mommy went on. “If you are wearing diapers you will show off your frilly diaper cover. And you will get a great thrill of pleasure from doing so.”

 

“Yes, Mommy, I understand,” annie answered again.

 

“The trigger word infantile is a sub-conscious reminder that you must cry like a baby to have your diaper changed, to be fed when you are hungry and for attention and comfort. You are an infantile sissy baby,” Mommy added.

 

“Yes, Mommy, I understand.”

 

“Good sissy,” Mommy said and then woke her little darling from trance. “Now, annie, we are going to the mall. Won’t that be fun? To be where everyone can see what an obedient, pretty little thing you are?”

 

“Oh, goodie, Mommy! Will we buy new things for me?” annie asked, eagerly.

 

“We will see, perhaps if you are a good girl,” Mommy replied.

 

With that, Mommy bundled her sweet sissy into the car and drove to the mall. They walked hand-in-hand through the parking lot, getting a lot of attention—both curious stares and admiring glances. Annie, after all, was in her pink Frozen dress, and Mommy wore a tight skirt with a silk top and four-inch heels. They entered the mall and began to stroll, gazing at the window displays. A number of women paused to smile at annie’s very sissy-ish look. When they reached the center court, Mommy stopped and asked, “Is Sissy happy?” Immediately, annie softly began her song:

 

“I’m a little sissy

Short and sweet

Here is my curtsey

Here is my pout

 

“When I get all pretty

I just shout

Little Miss Sissy

All about!”

 

“No, no, sweetie, louder,” Mommy scolded. “We want everybody to know how much you like being a sissy, don’t we?” And so, annie repeated, in a full but girlish tone:

 

“I’m a little sissy

Short and sweet

Here is my curtsey

Here is my pout

 

“When I get all pretty

I just shout

Litle Miss Sissy

All about!”

 

It didn’t take long before a crowd gathered around…nearly all of them female. Some young teen “mall-rats” laughed; others, ladies in their 30s and 40s, smiled knowingly, as if recognizing a submissive male when they saw one; still others, clearly grandmothers or older aunts, looked wistfully on, imagining having such a sweet thing to look after. One of the women in her 30s—very attractive and smartly dressed in slacks and heels--stepped forward to introduce herself. “Hello, little one,” she said. “I’m Gloria. Can I be your friend?”

 

Annie stopped singing, smiled and said “I am Mommy's little sissy darling,” then dropped a curtsy.

 

“You certainly are, dear,” Gloria responded, suppressing a laugh.

 

“Annie, give the nice lady your card, honey,” Mommy directed, and annie produced one from her little purse.

 

Gloria read it and turned to Mommy. “Is she--?” she began to ask.

 

Mommy smiled and said, “Yes. The website on the card will tell you all about her. If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to e-mail me.” Mommy took annie’s hand and said, “Come, sweetheart, it’s time for lunch,” and led her to the food court. Mommy chose a table in the center of the court so everyone could see how pretty and childlike her sissy was. She took out a carton of special apple juice and poured it into annie’s bottle. “Here you are, sweety,” she said, “finish it all up like a good little infantile sissy.”

 

Annie sucked hard at the nipple and soon emptied the bottle. Then Mommy took some baby food from her bag—apples and peas—tied a babyish bib around annie’s neck and began to feed her. “Oh, you are so infantile when I feed you this way, sweetheart! Mommy just loves you like this!” After a few minutes, annie began to wiggle her bottom in the chair. Mommy ignored her for the moment. Annie’s discomfort increased and she began to whimper. Mommy waited. Finally, real wails and tears erupted. “Does my infantile sweety need a change?” she asked as she lifted annie out of the chair and led her to the family-designated restroom.

 

There, she helped the poor sissy onto the big changing table, lay her on her back and undid her diaper. “Oh, yes, lots of baby wetties and mess!” she laughed, as she took out wipes and cleaned carefully all around annie’s locked-up nubbin and made sure her bottom was clean and dry. Then she powdered the dear thing and put her in a fresh diaper. They left the restroom with annie happy once more.

 

As they walked to the mall exit, Mommy asked “Are annie’s panties comfortable now?” Annie suddenly stopped, grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up, to show off her frilly undies. People all around stopped and smiled and lsughed. Mommy pretended to be angry. “Now, annie, you are much too old to be doing that!”

 

But one of the women looking on commented, “It’s all right…those panties are so pretty, I’m sure she just wanted to show them off!”

 

Mommy turned to annie and said, “What do we say to the nice lady?”

 

Annie, of course, replied, “I am Mommy's little sissy darling,” and curtsied. The woman gushed with praise and handed Mommy her card. “You must bring her round to my home! My little girl will love having such a big dolly to play with!”

 

It was time to leave. Mommy placed a binky in annie’s mouth as a reward for her good behavior and they returned to the car and home.

 

THE END