I am an adult, but I am in the clothing of a little girl. I feel ashamed
to be caught this way. I wonder how I had the nerve to dress like this...the
Mary Jane shoes, the white socks, the flowered cotton panties, the pink
party dress with all the layers of petticoats!
Somehow, I am over someone's knee. I don't know if it's male or female.
The flowered panties are down around my ankles and I'm being spanked. I
try to cry out, but nothing. No sound. My mouth forms a big round O, but
I stare in shock at what is happening to me, a little girl over someone's
knee. Somehow I think that if I kick my legs up and down, and if I can just
scream, then whoever is spanking me will be satisfied.
But whoever it is, knows the trick that I'm playing. I am ordered to arch
my fanny upward and, to my utter humiliation, when I do, one hand grabs
for my genitals while the other spanks! Now my secret is known, I think
to myself. That I am a male little girl! This will make my punishment so
"Show me how scared you are," the person says. "Come on,
show me how scared you are."
I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I try to scream. I try my best.
But still, nothing comes out. Meanwhile I keep getting spanked. I can see
now, from the perspective of the person spanking me, that I have a hairless
little girl's fanny. It is very plump. It wiggles and flutters with every
spank. My cheeks are milky white, very, very white, even with all the spanks.
Now I am up, on unsteady legs, and my petticoats and dress are gone, and
I'm in just panties. Yes, I do look very flat-chested and girlish. The cotton
flowered panties have no bulge in front. It's as if I really am a little
I'm being slapped in the face. Very hard. Backhanded, fronthanded, over
I lose all control and I begin to wet myself.
Now I'm pulled by my pigtails, pulled until I stagger, where I am being
taken, I don't know. I think I hear the voice say, "Naughty girl! This
is how scared you are..."
Now the panties are being held in front of me. I have to see that they
have been wet. Somehow, the panties have been tied tightly onto my pigtails.
Two wet panties on either side of my head. It's hard to describe. I don't
feel the weight of them.
I can see myself now. Flat chested. Pigtails. A bald slope between my
legs. I toddle around the room like this, toward my master, my mistress,
whoever it is that is with me.
Someone has me by the pigtails. The person is yanking the pigtails, making
me shake my head "No, no, no." But I don't know what is being
said, or whether "No" is the correct response. I guess it is what
the person wants.
I am on my knees now, on the floor, clumsily trying to find where my petticoats
are, or my dress, anything to cover me. I think about trying to wrench one
of the panties that's been twisted into my pigtails, and get it on to cover
my embarrassing bald mound.
I'm struggling with my panties, which are wet, twisted, and I keep staggering
trying to get my foot into them. I look down and I have a rabbit in my
hand. I am petting a rabbit. I hold it to me.
Next, I am on a farm, with rabbits, baby chicks, and the sound of chirping.
I can imitate this, and I do. I wonder why I couldn't scream when I had
to, but now I can chirp.
Dreams about being a little girl...perhaps I felt particularly helpless
and small that day. I don't know what might have happened to create the