Summer Camp - Incomplete

It was well known that there were two hundred and fifty places available for Summer camp, fifty places for Competition Camp (otherwise known as Toughies Camp), and up to fifty places for Feminine Camp (almost universally known as Sissy Camp).

The boy looked more in hope than expectation at the provisional list but despite his doubts his heart still sank when he saw his name on the Sissy Camp list, as were the names of all the Sissies he knew.

He brought the subject up with his alloted Sissy Auntie June at his weekly session.

He'd been very suspicious of her at first, but in lots of little ways she'd proved she was on his side. For instance she didn't insist their meetings were 'en femme' like most Sissy Aunties did, and she'd insisted he didn't go to bed 'en femme' on Sunday nights because getting up so early on Monday morning to clean off lotions, redo hair, and shower off scent, to mention just a few indignities, was detrimental to his school work. Not all Sissies were so lucky he knew.

So he carefully broached the subject.....

“Well dear” said Auntie June thoughtfully, “It's my duty to ensure you resolve your gender issues of course..”

This was the standard response of course, but he knew better now that Auntie June would do her best to help

...”however if you feel you have addressed those issues then there might be a way to improve your chances of joining the Summer Camp list if not make it a certainty.”

The boys hopes grew.

“Perhaps I shouldn't be telling you this but I know you are discrete.....”

He nodded solemnly his carefully coiffured locks bouncing as he did so.

“Well for the Feminine Camp Madame Grant is planning to offer a sort of equivalent to Camp Aide in the Summer Camp..”

The boy looked a little confused not seeing how this helped him.

“I'm not sure she even has a name for the role yet dear. It involves starting at camp a few weeks early to set up, and I think the role means spending most, if not all weekends at camp, plus a week or so after to tidy up and help with tying up loose ends. There's a few extra responsibilities, privileges, and training I think. She's hoping to get the help of a very talented Auntie too to oversee the role..”

The boy's face looked blanker, extra weeks at Sissy Camp, and losing even the chance to go home and be a proper boy at weekends, was absolutely the opposite of what he wanted.

Auntie June clearly saw the confusion in his face. She continued in an almost whispered conspiratorial tone.

“….But, and this is the secret part, she told me that the first boys to volunteer for this role would definitely be offered a place on Summer Camp because they clearly showed they were dealing with their gender issues by volunteering. Actually..” she smiled now, “..she rather suspected such a diligent boy wouldn't take the Summer Camp offer, but you are perfectly entitled to if you wanted that.”

The boy smiled his appreciation.

“Auntie, they definitely would offer me a Summer Camp place if I volunteered?”

“Madame Grant isn't one to say things lightly dear” she said in her more professional disapproving tone.

“Of course not, of course, Auntie ” he said obligingly, now satisfied his Sissy Auntie had come up with a perfect solution.

“I suggest the moment the role comes on the board you sign up then dear, if that's what you want?”

“Yes, yes” he smiled gratefully.

He'd had a rather trying weekend as old Miss Holt's Sissy Maid. She wasn't a bad woman he believed but she was so enthusiastic about his feminization, and seemed to truly believe he was a willing participant he always felt a little low, uncomfortable, and confusedly ashamed afterwards.

He raced to the notice board at first break, and there it was, the new role on offer under the Feminine Camp section...

“Role – Feminine Camp Aide (Title to be decided at first Camp Aide workshop)

Brief outline of role:-

Early arrival at Camp to help with preparations – 100 Camp Tokens in payment

On-site presence over weekends as required – 20 Camp Tokens in payment per weekend

Specific clothing, deportment, and personal presentation requirements. Training and clothing allowance included.

Special Camp privileges apply

Optional advanced training and advanced procedures to help with early acclimatization to role available. Participant should envisage a month prior to Camp duties to allow for this. Optional only.

Participants are expected to be a 'right-hand' to all Camp Leaders, and to be an enthusiastic, cheerful, and diligent Camp Aide.

Sign here to volunteer for this privileged role....”

It looked a truly awful role. And since Camp Tokens he'd heard could only be spent on stupid Sissy stuff even those benefits were pointless.

He breathed hard. It seemed so crazy to volunteer. Though he doubted anyone would volunteer he also feared the possibility and he would miss his chance.

Hands trembling he signed his name 'Robin Chase'

He sighed and spent an uncomfortable afternoon reflecting, and later met with some pretty accusing stares from those who'd heard of his pathetic request to be a Feminine Camp Aide.

Next morning he found a note in his pigeon hole addressed from the office of Madame Grant.

Fingers trembling he opened the note...

“Dear Robin,

I was so very heartily pleased to see a volunteer sign up for the new Feminine Camp Aide. That sounds such a banal name for such a lovely and advanced role doesn't it? I'm sure however that you and the Camp Leaders will come up with something a little easier on the ears.

Your offer shows such determination to address your gender issues that I felt from the outset I should also offer any early applicant the chance of a place in Summer Camp as an alternative. That is if you really feel your gender issues are resolved, and you can bear to forego such a delightful opportunity which I doubt an obviously sensitive boy like you can. But no decision on your part regarding Camp choice will be necessary until I can assure that I've obtained the services of the right people to direct and mold this lovely role, because until that time it's all rather theoretical, but I usually have my way of course.

I hope you don't mind if I place you on the Summer Camp provisional list in the meantime, it's naughty of me but sometimes I love to confuse and tease those less willing than yourself. And, as I said before, if we can find the resources to support the role the Summer Camp offer is genuinely available, so I'm not being too wicked I hope.

Thanking you once again for your brave and mature request.

Yours

Madame Grant

In function of “Gender Issues President”

True to her word his name was magically now on the Summer Camp list, and not to be seen on the Feminine Camp list.

Despite his euphoria he wisely declined to tell anyone how this all came about, despite their curious and perplexed inquiries.

He now so regretted how he'd gloated over a lot of the assembled Camp Sissies before him. In their silly pastel frocks, and aprons, their glum faces made up as well as the Camp Leaders were able, they mostly still looked like reluctant boys in dresses.

As the Camp Head continued her opening address he felt rather uncomfortable that their eyes glanced over him with no apparent recognition so far. He squirmed a little and unconsciously recrossed his legs under his tight pencil skirt, his immaculate nylons making their whispered zipping sound, the stocking tabs attached to his impossibly snug panty girdle tugging a little in response.

He blushed a little under his flawless and meticulously applied make up, as his unintentional but ruthlessly absorbed feminine gesture drew a look from some of the Sissies which was so obviously male. Now looking into the audience over his long stockinged legs with those shiny black stilettos adorning his manicured and pampered feet, he felt a sick feeling that as yet nobody apparently recognized him. His mind screamed that he didn't want them to recognize the terrible depths of the feminine web he'd succumbed to, but at the same time it shamed him they could no longer detect a boy behind this ruthlessly enforced feminine exterior. He somehow doubted his resolve to hold back tears when the realization finally dawned on them. Just lately he'd got tearful at the least annoyance and was heartily sick of being constantly sent to refresh his make up.

Madame Shaw, or Camp Mother, as it was decided was the title the Camp Sissies would refer to her by now began an introduction of the Camp Leaders. She explained they would be called 'Camp Mommies' or plain 'Mommy' by their alloted Sissies.

Each Camp Mommy stood to be introduced. They all looked immaculate in their smart tailored dresses and suits and mid height heels.

Robin felt his stomach knot and his buttocks clench in the confines and his lacy panties and girdle, as she progressed in her introductions down the row of chairs approaching him at the end.

He was further disquieted by a questioning glance from Tim, a former Sissy friend who'd looked up until then thoroughly miserable in a pastel lemon dress his relatively short hair scraped into a tiny ponytail tied with a lemon ribbon. Now as he gazed at the seated girl, she was a girl he felt, obviously younger than the other leaders, his face changed as an odd doubt crossed his mind. The girl's streaked blond locks were piled into a sophisticated updo, her make up was flawless and more adult than her young slim tanned arms seemed to suggest she was. She wore a surprisingly old fashioned silk blouse with a huge silk bowed front, and the outline of an expensive lace bra was visible below. Her manicured hands with their red painted nails fluttered a little under his gaze. But even under make up and rich lipstick the eyes looked familiar as the she looked at him. No, no , it's not possible he thought. He quickly averted his gaze unsure if it was pure foolishness.

Robin was relieved when Tim looked away, though uncomfortable with even one of his best friends obviously ashamed even to think of who he might be.

“...and finally dear Sissies, we come to our lovely Camp Aide. Stand up and be presented Sister Felicity..” announced Madame Shaw warmly.

It wasn't despite weeks of practice in heels, he was all too humiliatingly confident in heels, but he felt a little unsteady as he stood. His nylons breathed a quiet zip under his silk lined skirt, he held his arms at an angle as he'd been so relentlessly schooled, his wrists a little limp, his long glistening painted nails on show, as his pretty bangles slipped a little down his wrists in a now familiar tinkle.

So far other than the still questioning gaze of Tim the other Sissies looked at him with the same gloomy resolve their eyes met the introduction of the Camp Leaders.

“..you may know Sister Felicity by her name outside of the Camp, that is Robin Chase..”

There was a moments pause, then a less than hushed collective breath of realization. All Sissy eyes turned to him with incredulity. Madame Shaw remained silent for what seemed an age as those boys eyes bore into him, his hair, make up, hosiery, blouse, heels, tinkling bangles, his every inch of femininity. She even failed to interrupt as the gasps broke out into shared murmurs of amazement.

“..as you may know..” she continued loudly to silence the murmers..”Robin volunteered for the Camp Aide role for which we are all very grateful I'm sure. As one of his many rewards he shared in deciding his name and title. Robin decided he wanted to be called Felicity, such a delightful name, and wanted to be a Sister to you all..”

There followed looks of poorly disguised loathing in Robin's direction.

“...I say he for the last time during this camp..” she smiled warmly in Robin's direction... “because of 'her' true desire to be the perfect Sister to you all 'she' wants to always be referred to in the feminine gender, and I ask that all staff and Sissies adhere to 'her' fervent wish..” another glance at Robin admiringly....

“..To staff she will be known as Sister Felicity, Sissies you will call her Felicity face to face, but Sister Felicity when referring to 'her' in front of staff. Don't worry dears it will all feel so natural very soon, Felicity is such a sweetie, and I'm very proud that I'm to be her personal Camp Mommy, and to allow for her Britishness she'll be allowed to call me Mummy.”.”

More looks of ill disguised disgust.

“..Felicity dearest, you wanted to say a few words didn't you?”

Robin sighed and tried to breath.

“Yes Mummy” he squeaked out through his heavily painted lips in the gentle feminine tones he'd so unrelentingly been forced to practice.

He heard a collective giggle written in the Sissies faces.

“...I, I..” he struggled to force out his well practiced little speech..” I am sooo glad to be your Sister for the Summer” he squeaked out using the feminine hand gestures he'd been so rigorously tutored in..” I'll try to be a feminine example to you all, and to support m..m..Mummy and all your Mommies in making your stay as lovely and fun as I'm sure it will be. I...I..won't be going home at weekends, because...b..because I soo want to really immerse myself in this feminine world, and if any of you want to spend the weekend with me I'm sure we can find...” he seriously felt tears welling despite his forced smile and sweet feminine tones..” find, lots of lovely girly things to do. I'm so sooo proud to be your Sister and I..I ..solemnly promise to be a good...a good.. a good girl all Summer long!”

The tears flowed despite himself under the cold gaze of all those incredulous sickened eyes.

“Oh there there Felicity” cooed the buxom Auntie Kate pulling the effeminate boy to her bosom in a motherly hug, producing a pristine lace hankie to dab his mascaraed tears.

“I'll take you to lie down dear, then if your Mommy will allow I'll refresh your make up, then we'll have a lovely afternoon getting ready for the opening party, it will be such fun.”

“Yes dear, that's fine, you take care of poor Felicity, Miss Brenda. I think she's really rather over -excited with all her Sissy friends finally arriving. Miss Brenda, can you possibly take charge of Miss Kate's Sissies for a few hours please?”

“Certainly Madame Shaw” said the more than capable Auntie Brenda.

******

Tim broke the silence with a question it sounded like he'd been holding back a long time.

“Why the hell did you volunteer for...for this?” he asked in a forced whisper, gesturing in general at Robin's ultra-feminine appearance.

“It, it was a mistake” Robin answered in a soft whisper. He suddenly felt a little tearful too now, and hated himself even more.

“A mistake?” asked his former friend incredulously, his chubby fingers with their stubby crudely painted nails attempting a place a flower in the vase with a degree of enforced elegance. “You go to the notice board and sign up for the worst role ever in Sissy Camp by mistake?” he added with obvious disgust.

Robin looked around nervously, both to ensure they weren't being overheard and to clear his mind to explain his folly in a way that wouldn't let his friend believe he was a complete Sissy. His slim perfectly manicured fingers plucked a red rose in his now habitual gentle manner and placed it carefully in the vase, the rose setting off his carefully filed, buffed, and red polished nails perfectly.

“Well..” he hesitated, his voice lowered to a husky whisper..”I was told if I volunteered I'd get on the Summer Camp list.”

“You were for a while”, confirmed his friend, “but then you went back to the Sissy Camp list”.

“Yes, well there was a problem..” he answered his voice hanging in the air realizing explaining all this wasn't going to be easy.

“The problem was you're a real Sissy” said his friend scornfully, deliberately brushing Robin's red rose aside to stuff a flower in the vase in a provocatively masculine gesture.

Robin sniffed back a tear, which to his shame he knew didn't help his case.

“No, no it wasn't like that” he said slightly too loudly, but fortunately a glance of his pretty head assured him it wasn't noticed. “There was nobody to set up the role and it got canceled” he continued quietly again “then they did find somebody but it as too late, I was off the Summer Camp list”.

“Hmmph” answered his friend still not quite convinced, stuffing another flower in brushing aside Robin's slender arms in a tinkle of pretty bangles.

“It was like that” he said, feeling tearful again.

“So” continued his friend at length “Where were you six weeks before Camp? Aides for the Camps only ever arrive two weeks before at most.”

“I, I, I had special training here” he faltered.

“I didn't see anything about special training” he whispered scornfully.

“Well it was, a, a, a mistake, I volunteered for special training, but” he was beginning to realize how pathetic this all sounded to his friend and he whispered the rest in a breathless rush to convince him, “I did it to get help the role set up, because the person running it wanted more to do, but it was only so then I could get on the Summer Camp. And then, and then, it all went wrong.”

To his humiliation the tears, though gentle, now began to flow. He reached in a jingle of bangles for his little Gucci purse, and fumbled inside amongst lipstick, mascara, and spare nylons for his lace hankie. Carefully and delicately he dabbed a corner of the scented hankie to his eyes, clearing up the little damp black tears.

His companion sighed derisively.

Robin felt a presence beside him.

“Is everything alright Felicity?” asked Auntie Brenda gently.

“Yes, yes” he sniffed “Just a little hay fever I think” he added as brightly as he could, using an excuse he'd used before to explain his stupid tears, but which now by chance in the flower arranging class seemed more appropriate.

“Oh dear Sweetie” she soothed. “Well Felicity dear, don't you go touching the flowers, that can't possibly help. Timmy dear, you just let Felicity tell you where to place the blooms, she has such a lovely eye for arranging I know,” she smiled. “And Timmy she might well teach you enough to arrange a delightful arrangement yourself next time dear.”

Despite himself Robin still blushed under his flawless makeup to hear himself so casually and instinctively referred to as 'she' in front of his former friend.

Auntie Brenda parted, satisfied with her simple solution. Robin forced a faint smile of appreciation.

There followed an agonizingly awkward ten minutes as Robin directed his former friend, using all the proper names for each flower he'd previously been forced to learn. Timmy, whilst forced to follow Robin's directions, obviously attempted to place the flowers with as little grace or care as his supervisors would allow.

Finally to both their relief 'Felicity' was called away to see 'her Mummy'. He parted dutifully in a jangle of bangles and a click of heels, his heavy perfume finally drifting away from the scene.

Robin spent a sleepless night adorned in his floaty nightie, tucked into frilly night panties, encased in silken sheets, his face and body covered in a multitude of scented night creams and lotions. He wondered how he could possibly prove to his friend that he wasn't a willing Sissy. A worrying thought in the back of his mind wondered if he'd fallen so deeply into the silken web it was just too late to redeem himself. And all those tears and silly emotions, was he really a pathetic Sissy after all?

He hated to admit to himself but sometimes he spent hours in bra, girdle, nylons and all his feminine frou frou, being referred to as 'she', speaking softly and femininely, gesturing girlishly, fretting about possible snagged nylons or smudged lipstick, without ever a thought for his maleness. Then some little event would spring his mind back and he'd be consumed in shame.

He tried to reason that he shouldn't be so hard on himself. He'd been dressed and treated fully as a girl, without a single break night or day for ten weeks now, nearly a three months! How could he possibly constantly be fighting and resisting. It was alright for the Sissies, they had a break at weekends, and they didn't wear nylons and bras and stockings, or were called 'she', or had nail extensions, hair extensions, or a hundred other indignities that he was subject to.

But he could see that from their point of view he did appear to be the complete Sissy. Somehow, some way, he'd find a way to prove he wasn't. He was far too frightened to behave boyishly in front of his supervisors. Madame Shaw had made it very clear from the beginning that his failure to 'assimilate his role' might end in him being taken from the care of his Step-Mother, who was bad enough, but worse still placed into the care of Madame Shaw herself. So then she would truly be his Mummy, and the thought of the consequences was just too alarming.

So far they seemed pleased with his efforts, even if they were relentless in pushing the boundaries of his feminine compliance. He just need the opportunity to somehow say to his former friends 'Look I'm not the Sissy you think I am.”

He mentioned his predicament to Auntie June in his daily phone call. She'd been so sorry for his dilemma, and she was encouraging and supportive each day, which was one of his few solaces.

“Well I'm sure your friends will eventually realize that you struggle to address your gender issues just like they do, and that you're not a natural Sissy. Maybe the opportunity will arise to show you share their struggle without spoiling your copybook . However dear, in the meantime be a good Sister and example to them, and be a good girl for Madame Shaw.”

One small fortunate consequence of his continued obedience was a little more freedom, within those obviously feminine limits of course. It was now very rare for an Auntie to ask what he was doing or where he was going, whereas the Sissies were constantly challenged.

For very brief periods he was even left to supervise the Sissies, whilst an Auntie briefly left the room for example. Unfortunately the looks of ill disguised contempt from the Sissies on such occasions did little to resolve his dilemma. He wanted to scream out 'I'm just like you, do what the hell you like! Be boys!”.

But his fear didn't allow him to do more than think the thought, and usually he spent the awkward minutes examining his sculpted nails and avoiding their glances.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Three whole hours of torture in Megan Shaw's friend's beauty salon was no way for a boy to spend his Saturday morning. Monica, Ms Shaw's closest friend ensured he had the closest of attention, and he left glowing, tingling, and most overwhelmingly blushing with shame.

His already smooth body was waxed, moisturized, and shaved so not a single hair remained below his neck, such that those hateful seven denier nylons slid completely noiselessly up his legs, his freshly painted glossy pink toenails bright enough to be clearly visible through the dark reinforced toe of the expensive and impractical hosiery.

His long hair, at best a source of embarrassment and bullying at school was now swept into an unmistakable feminine sweep, and unforgivingly pinned and lacquered into place. His eyebrows which he'd begged to be left alone, and finally relented to 'just a little tidy up' were now, as he feared all along, plucked into thin feminine brows, and most humiliating because his hair he could try to brush out, nail varnish he could remove, but his eyebrows would take weeks to look normal.

His face was a mask of foundation, lipstick, eyeliner, and a host of lotions and powders he barely understood, his lashes were heavy, and he suspected also involuntarily fluttering girlishly under the weight of several applications of mascara.

His body no longer felt like his own. His smooth hairless genitals were mercilessly squeezed and tucked back into his body and imprisoned in tight nylon panties, and further locked completely undetectable and unreachable in the cruel confines of his constricting long line pantygirdle.