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(image done by ai)
The opposition party wanted to make petticoat discipline against the law. There was a general election campaign, and this was one of their main promises. The opposition leader's name was Mrs. Leary. She said that petticoat discipline was forbidden decades ago because people were wise enough to know that there was no proof that it worked. In fact, many professionals thought it could do more harm than good. “We should not tell boys they are sissies or girls,” she said. “While we should help and support children that are transgender, we should not force boys that have no gender identity problems to be the opposite gender. It is a shame and shocking that society has now allowed this. It shows that parents are forgetting to be parents and forcing their children down this inhumane path. My party will stop this and close places like the Victorian Virtue Institute.”
Niki was very worried about the election campaign. He wanted to know what would happen if the institute was forced to close. I understood Niki's fears. He was now at a place where he felt wanted and could be himself. He did not want to be isolated back at home with his parents who did not notice him. As for me, I was now used to the institute. If this place were closed, I was sure that my mother would keep treating me as a sissy. The petticoat treatment started as a punishment to make me a nicer person, but I quickly accepted it. Miss Eva explained that it was because I always had a sissy inside me, and now that I was living as a sissy, I was nicer and happier. I do not know why I accepted this treatment. The recent book about me, the media scrutiny, and now the general election were also making me think. What if the institute was wrong in how we were being treated?
I was told to see the dentist. I always hated dentists. They would have this fake smile on their faces, telling you everything would be fine, but that was never the case. They would scrape, clean, and polish while reminding you all the time how to brush your teeth. This visit was not as bad. The only time it hurt was when he injected something into my gums. Then it seemed like my mood changed. I was floating on a cloud and giddy. I think the dentist could have pulled all my teeth out if he wanted, and I would just smile at him. When I left the dentist, I felt like I was floating around and seeing rainbows everywhere.
Even at assembly, I was in a great mood when Madam Criben was telling us what we should think. She was defending why we got puberty blockers. “You have all discovered that you are sissies,” she said. “If your boy hormones have permission to decide, your bodies will be more masculine and more ugly. You may not be old enough to understand this. Once in a while, it is important to trust your superiors and realise that we know what is best for you. Your parents trust us here at the institute, which is why they sent you here. Do not believe what the haters or the media tell you. They say that puberty blockers are dangerous. There is no evidence for this. Trust us.” I was in a giddy mood after the dentist, and I didn’t realise that I shouted out that there was no evidence that it wouldn't harm us either. I realised that I said this when Madam Criben was glaring at me.
The effect of whatever the dentist wore off caused me to have pains in my teeth. Madam Criben just gave me aspirin. I hate pain, and it meant that I felt depressed and grumpy. I could not even concentrate when Julian was tutoring me. He noticed this and suggested we go to an art exhibition. So we went to town on a field trip. Of course, the media heard about this, so they were there, taking one photo after another. They also asked dumb questions like: do I like the dress I was wearing?, was I wearing a diaper?, do I use pacifiers?, and do I consider myself a girl now? I didn’t answer, but I put on my royal smile. I did like the art gallery. Most of the paintings were lovely. I liked the landscape paintings. To be honest, I did not like the abstract pictures. They reminded me of the ones I did at school. There was one white picture with a black dot in the middle. I had to roll my eyes at that. Still, despite the media and abstract art, I loved the art exhibition.
A few days after I was at the dentist, something strange happened. I started to lisp. I noticed some other boys did this. Even Niki lisped a bit. Now that I started to lisp, I could not pronounce the “s” sound. It sounded like "th." I thought it was so embarrassing. I sounded like a little toddler learning how to speak. Niki tried to cheer me up by telling me that it sounded cute. I didn’t want to sound cute. I wanted to sound like myself. Niki tried to tell me I was lisping since I had seen the dentist. That may be true, but it was getting worse. This meant that I did not want to speak. I only spoke when I had to.
I told Miss Eva at therapy affirmation that I had started to lisp. Her answer was that this is normal for sissies. I did not say anything for the rest of the session. I went back to my nursery and tried figuring out what was happening to me. How could I start lisping all of a sudden? Did the dentist make a mistake? Did the other boys who lisped also start to suddenly do it? Something did not add up. The problem is that I could not put my finger on what was wrong. This made me feel depressed and somewhat afraid. Niki noticed that I was sad and told me to cheer up. I could not even force a smile on my face.
Madam Criben showed me the latest news. It was a YouTube channel where experts talked about the Royal Family. The experts said that both the institute and my mother said that I was happy. They showed a clip of me smiling when I was at the art show. So they concluded that this must confirm that I was happy. One expert thought I was transgender, and now I have found my true identity. They thought it was great that my parents were open-minded and gave me this chance. It's strange that the experts think they know me better than I do. These so-called experts have never met me. If they did, they would not know if I was happy or not.
As I said, Niki knew I was not feeling so happy. I did not talk to him about it. He told me that no one is always happy. Sometimes we are happy, and sometimes we are sad. I thought this was wise. So Niki told me we should practice ballet. So we changed our leotards and tights. Niki wore his tutu, but I decided not to. I must admit that I did have fun. I even smiled. This was despite the fact that there were many thoughts flying around in my head. Still, I was grateful to Niki for trying to cheer me up. I hoped that he was right and that the sadness I was experiencing was just a phase. This taught me one thing. When you feel sad, it does not help just to sit and feel sorry for yourself. You need to get up and do something that will put you in a better mood.
Later, there was a letter for me. It was from Blake. “Dear Taylor, how are you doing? I am glad that I am not home. My parents feel bad that they did not know I was happy at the institute. I forgive them, as they were just trying to do what was best for me. I get teased and bullied at school because everyone knows I was at the institute. It is only now that I realise how strange the place was and how we were manipulated. I know you are happy to be there. So I am trying not to be so negative about the place. The election campaign is talking a lot about it. My hope is that you are happy. Do not let the institute tell you who you are. Remember who you were and what you want to be. I do miss you and Niki. I hope we can see you during the next school break… your friend Blake.”
I was not smiling when I finished the letter. It was like there was a black cloud hanging over me. There was one thing he said that made me think. “Remember who you were.” I was once an ordinary boy. I did boy things and wore boy clothes. I was overall a happy boy. Sure, I could be a pain at times and even misbehave. As a prince, I was just unlucky that the whole world knew when I misbehaved. Other boys did not have this problem. They could be brats in public. Maybe putting me in a dress was not the right thing to do. Maybe my parents should have asked themselves why I was not the angel they wanted. Maybe I was normal for a boy, or maybe I could not deal with the stress of being a prince. I looked in the mirror and saw who I was now. A sissy wearing a pastel-coloured frilly dress with lace, tights, and Mary Janes.
I decided to take my mind off of things and try to do art. I could not concentrate. What have I become? Why did they do this to me? Why did I let them do this to me? Did they try to brainwash me into being submissive? Did I start lisping because the dentist did something to me? I started crying and just slumped into a ball on the floor. I no longer knew who I was. I was like a doll that others could dress and tell me how to act. I no longer knew what to think. It was a strange feeling to know that I no longer knew who I was.
Madam Criben gave us a lecture on masculinity. “Femininity is often seen as the opposite of masculinity, but it is much more than that. It is a celebration of all things traditionally associated with being a woman, such as sensitivity, empathy, and nurturing qualities. These traits are often undervalued in a society that values strength and aggression, but they are just as important. Femininity promotes a more balanced and compassionate approach to life, which can lead to healthier relationships and a more peaceful society. And as for boys being sissies, it is time to break free from outdated gender stereotypes and embrace all aspects of femininity, as it can make them better, more well-rounded individuals.” After she said this, I got up from my desk and walked out of the class, saying that what she said was rubbish. You do not have to wear a dress to be nice and have empathy. Not all men are aggressive. I could hear the gasps from the other pupils as I left.
While the other students were listening to Madam Criben, I went to the TV room. There was some news about my mother. The newsreader said the palace announced that during the next school holidays, she would be taking my sister and me on a national tour. The first thing I thought was that she was doing this so everyone could see me as a sissy in a dress. I wanted to scream loudly. Why did she not ask me? Why is she using me as something she can use to tell the world that she does not think that petticoat treatment is bad? My mother wanted me to be a mascot for sissy and transgender boys. No wonder I get frustrated once in a while. I was never asked what I wanted.
After class, Niki found me and told me that he did not know what had gotten into me. He thought that I was happy here and accepted that I was a sissy. Why did I not let the institute help me? I snapped back at him, "It's easy for you. You have been a sissy all your life. I was happy being a boy until I came here. I was forced to be a sissy. I was manipulated and brainwashed. I think I only agreed because I was afraid of being spanked and wanted my parents to be proud of me. Look at me now. I am a boy wearing a stupid, frilly dress. My hair is getting long. I am wearing diapers and being treated like a toddler. I am also sure the doctor is the one who made me start to lisp. Why should I be happy? I am mad, and I am frustrated. I am angry and feel like a doll or my mother's little mascot. No one ever asked me what I wanted!”
Madam Criben called me to her office and wanted an explanation of why I walked out of class. I told her what I told Niki. She tried to explain the lisp: “Being a sissy boy means that you are kind, gentle, and sensitive. Sissys often speak with a lisp because they have a soft and gentle way of talking. It's nothing to be embarrassed about; in fact, it can be quite cute and endearing. Sissy boys are special and unique, and we should always celebrate our differences. So, don't worry if you lisp; it just makes you even more lovable.” I knew then that the dentist had done something to me. Madam Criben noticed that I was angry and told me that she would only have so much patience with me. If I continued to be rebellious or protest, I would be punished. She gave me her evil glare and told me to trust the petticoat system and admit to myself that I am… a sissy.
After Madam Criben threatened me, I hid once again in the art room. Julian was there. He noticed that I could not concentrate, so I told him everything that had been happening to him. When I asked him if he experienced the same when he was a student here, Julian answered that he did not want to talk about his time at the institute. However, he told me that he understood what I was going through.
“Going to a place like this can be overwhelming,” he explained, “especially for a prince, as you are a public favour. You did not want to come here, but you got used to it. You have friends here. You like some things that they do here, such as art. Still, there are a few things that confuse you. Why are you being told you're no longer a boy but a sissy? Why the baby things? Why do they sometimes want to humiliate you? Did the people here make you lisp? Why did Madam Criben threaten you with punishment if you continued to ask critical questions? On top of these questions, you have many questions in your head. It basically means that you do not know who you really are. I will not talk about my time here, but I will say that no one can tell you who you are or want to be except yourself. Follow your heart.”
I got a letter from my sister Julia saying that she was excited about the national tour. I loved my sister, but she was only 7 and did not know what my mother's true intentions were. This planned tour was bothering me a lot. I needed these holidays to get my thoughts together and not show the whole country the latest dress that I was wearing. Niki came with my salvation. He told me that he would be spending the school holidays with his grandmother. Niki invited me to spend my holidays with him and his grandmother. I did not tell him my thoughts about Mom's planned national tour, so I do not think he did this because he felt pity for me. He just wanted to spend time with me. I had a huge smile on my face and accepted his offer.
I felt things would change for me and the country. Not only was I beginning to ask questions, but the opposition party won the election. Mrs. Leary was our new prime minister. A large part of her election campaign was that she did not like petticoat treatment or places like the Victorian Virtue Institute….
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