Stepton Sissy Camp, part 1

Dear Ms. Gordon:
This is to inform you that your son, Albert, has been accepted to Camp Frills ‘n’ Bows here in Stepton for the summer. Please have him ready to be picked up on Friday, July 6. There is no need to pack anything; everything he requires will be provided.
Sincerely,
Ashley Weathers, Head Counselor

On the assigned date, Albert was waiting on the front steps with his mother when a large black town car arrived. A tall, pretty woman in shorts and a t-shirt with the camp logo stepped out and greeted them. “Hi, Albert, I’m Brenda!” she said. “I’ll be your cabin counselor for the summer. Now, come on and get in, we have a long drive ahead of us.!”

His mother kissed him goodbye, and Albert, a slender boy of 14, apprehensively joined Brenda in the backseat of the car. The Gordons had only moved to Stepton a few weeks ago and he was still getting used to this strange village—where there seemed to be no other boys. Ms. Gordon smiled and thought, “I wonder what he’ll be like when he comes home?”

In the car, Brenda reached into her bag and brought out a strange device. It looked a little like a gun and a little like an aerosol spray. “What’s that?” Albert asked.

“This? Oh this is just something to help you relax and enjoy the camp experience,” she replied. She placed against the base of his neck in the bag and pressed the trigger. Albert felt a sudden pinch and twinge. “There!” Brenda said. “Now, you have the Stepton Implant in you, just like all the other boys in town…and by the time you come home from camp, you and all the other campers will be sweet little submissive sissies.”

“What?!” Albert exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, didn’t your mother explain, dear?” Brenda continued. “There are no men or boys allowed in Stepton, just dominant women and girls like me, and the cute little femboys we create out of the males who stumble into our clutches. You should already be feeling the effect of the Implant. You really don’t want to argue anymore, do you?”

“No…no, I don’t,” Albert realized. “I just want to do as you say.”

“Good girl! Go to sleep and let the Implant do its thing,” Brenda advised.

Immediately, Albert’s head lolled to one side and his eyes drifted closed. The Implant’s programming filled his mind: Your name is now Allie. You are becoming a pretty submissive sissy. You adore girl’s clothes, the more feminine the better….. It went on in that vein for the remainder of the trip to the camp. When they arrived, Brenda said, “Wake up, Allie, we’re there.” And the newly renamed Allie roused from his trance.

“Ms. Brenda, why am I wearing these horrid masculine clothes?’ he asked in disgust.

“We’ll get you something cute and girly to wear while you’re at camp, Sweetie,” Brenda replied. “Now, it’s time for orientation.”

She escorted him to the mess hall where the other campers waited as well. Then, a lovely woman in her early 20s took her place on the podium. She wore a white sleeveless romper with the camp logo. “Good afternoon,” she began. “My name is Ashley Weathers and I am the head counselor. Some of you may recognize my name—my mother is the founder and mayor of the town of Stepton and inventor of the Implant you all have within you now. Are you all feeling happy and girlish?”

“Yes, Ms. Ashley,” they replied in unison.

“Very good. Depending on the programming requested by your mother or guardian, some of you will leave at the end of the summer as prissy little girls. Others will leave as sexy teenage bimbos. Still others will be fully trained as ladies’ maids. All of you will be completely obedient to any true woman you encounter,” Ashley explained. “Now, my counselors will move among you, choosing the campers they want for their ‘team,’ and then they will take you to your cabins to change into your camp uniforms.

“Oh, one more thing,” she added as they moved off. “Don’t bother trying to jerk off. The Implants prevent any erection or ejaculation. You will come when we say you can.”

Brenda took Ally’s hand and led him, along with four or five other boys, to their cabin. On entering, they all “oohed” and “aahed” at the décor. Everything was in various shades of pink—the walls, the rugs, the frilly curtains, and most especially, the beds. The beds were all four-poster canopy affairs, with ruffled spreads and pillow covers. Each bed had a wardrobe beside it, open to reveal a myriad of overtly feminine attire and a sign with one of their names. Ally spotted the one with his name and ran to it.

“In your wardrobe, you will find your camp uniform, to be worn every day, except for special occasions. The style of your uniform will designate the training regimen you will undergo, “ Brenda explained. She held up examples as she went on. “This blouse-and-jumper ensemble will be worn by those of you who are destined to be little girl sissies.

The yellow romper is intended for future office workers, or as we style them here in Stepton, sex-retaries.

“The blue romper is worn by those of you who will be trained as ladies’ maids, who will see to all of your Mistress’s needs—including sexual ones.

“Finally, the miniskirt and jacket combination is designed for those who have been chosen to become bimbo models—brainless little toys.”

Ally gasped when he saw that the uniform in his wardrobe was this last described—his mother had decided he would be a bimbo!