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  Cole sat outside Dylan’s door until the boy came heading his way. “Are you okay? What happened?”
    Dylan shook his head, “They lectured me, that’s all. I don’t get spanked for every step I take, but you could see Mom looking for her favorite victim. It’s fucked up.” He lifted Cole up, “They said not to let you in my room anymore, so we’re gonna be hanging in the living room from now on—geez, are those plastic pants always that loud?”
    The crinkling left both brothers conscious of Cole’s protective garment for the whole time they spent together. They were lucky, though: Mark had decided to watch TV in his room, so the living room was free for them. They sat together watching TV, Dylan’s arm keeping Cole warm until their dad approached them.
    “It’s noon, get dressed.” Dylan wasn’t going to test his parents any further, and quickly made his way to his room. Cole was surprised to see his dad sticking around, even after explaining his new clothing rule.
    “Wait, me too?”
    Dad gestured for him to get up, “Come on, you’re playing with Mark.”
    Cole croaked out, “No.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, not after all the punishments he’d been receiving, but he did.
    “No?” His dad was already taking out his belt, “No?”
    “Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I’ll play with Mark!” His father wouldn’t stop, and he began folding over his belt. “Dad, please!”
    He was spun so his stomach lay on the couch as the belt alternated between smashing against his thighs and his padding. The plastic pants barely acted as a shield, and by the time the spanking was through, the exposed targets were equally as red as those under the trainers. With Cole left shuddering and in tears, his dad lifted him up before he could recompose himself, and carried him right to Mark’s room, where he was suddenly dropped from his dad’s shoulder-height right at the foot of the younger boy.
    “Someone’s been a bad boy! I think it’s time to get you ready to be a good girl, then.” Cole retaliated with seething red eyes, still lying on the floor from the fall. “Don’t look at me like that! The princess is supposed to love the prince, not hate him! Get up, Princess Colie.”
    Cole obeyed, and shakily stood before his controller. He was taller than the other, but it gave him no illusion of power. Mark was already in his prince costume, and Cole knew it was only a matter of minutes until he was back in his dress.
    “Dad, can he wear his plastic pants under the dress?” Cole didn’t even realize his dad was still in the doorway.
    “I wouldn’t let you take them off him; those plastics are just as much his underwear as his training pants are. You know your brother needs them.”
    Mark snickered. “Okay Princess Colie, I’m sure you’re just dying to cover those up. You’ve waited long enough, let’s get you dressed.”
    Cole was unsure if he’d rather stay in just his protective garments, or if he’d prefer that they were covered up, even if it meant looking like a girl. He didn’t have a choice however, and he lifted his arms when bid so his dress could be pulled over him, and allowed Mark to fasten his dress in place, and tie the big bow in the back.
    “I made this for you,” Mark continued, as he pinned a bow at an angle on Cole’s head. “There! Pretty as a princess. Take a look!” Mark pulled Cole towards a mirror, and the sight was humiliating. The dress was a perfect fit, it didn’t matter that there was a boy underneath.
    “I’ll get Mom in for the makeup,” his dad said, before leaving the doorframe unoccupied.
    Cole gave no notice to what was coming. He never expected it to go so far as wearing makeup, but now that he knew, he felt no more upset than before. Maybe if he got lucky, no one would even recognize him under it all.

    Cole wasn’t lucky. He looked at himself in the mirror, and the makeup did nothing to hide his features, only enhance them. His lips were a pinkish red, and his cheeks flamed with a light blush. He looked like a girl, but it still clearly looked like him. Princess Colie.
    “Colie, you’re so pretty! Aren’t you happy that I picked your dress out, now?” Mark gave Cole an evil grin. There was only one response that wouldn’t earn a beating.
    “Y-yes, th-thank you, Mark,” Cole lied through his teeth.
    “Now give me a curtsy, and we’ll watch TV together.” Cole did as Mark commanded, and caught another glimpse of the mirror. As he curtsied, he caught the slightest glimpse of his plastic pants, and instantly pushed his dress down, to the laughter of everyone else in the room.
    “Oh, you make for such a pretty little girl, Colie,” his mom chuckled, “Okay kids, have fun watching TV.” Cole was prepared to make his way to the living room, when Mark tugged him onto his couch. The little brat had his own couch.
    “You’ve never seen my TV, have you?” Mark sweeped around for the remote and turned on his TV. “I think we’ll watch something with princesses.” He stood up and located his movie collection, and grabbed the disc for Disney’s Cinderella. “Do you need to use the bathroom before we start?”
    Cole flushed red. He did. He pointed his head down and nodded, and Mark took him by the hand and led him to his bathroom, and after closing the door, pulled down his big brother’s plastic pants and trainers.
    “A-are y-you gonna b-be there the whole time?” Cole quavered, sitting with his dress bunched over his lap.
    “Why are you surprised? Everyone knows you’re still being toilet trained.” Mark smirked at him, and ruffled his hair. “The sooner you go, the sooner I’ll stop watching.”
    Cole looked away and tried to forget about Mark, but the shame was all too much. He began to use the toilet, as tears starting forming in his eyes. When he was done, his brother pulled him up by his arms, and pulled his training pants back into place, followed by the plastic cover. He was then instructed to wash his hands, and the two exited back into Mark’s room, where their dad still stood in the doorframe.
    “Very good, Mark. Colie, what do you say?”
    “W-wha?”
    “Your brother knows you’ve been having trouble getting trained, so he’s lending a hand. What do you say?”
    “Oh, um… thank you, Mark.”
    Mark replied with a pat on Cole’s loud plastic pants. “No problem. It’s the prince’s job to aid a princess in need.” This satisfied their father, who then left the two on their own. They began Cinderella, and all throughout that movie and the next, Mark continuously lifted his brother’s dress, checking the trainers underneath the plastics. “Good princess, still dry,” he’d say, before doing the same an hour later. The cycle repeated until six, when Cole’s eyes seemed all dried out, and it was finally time to trick-or-treat.
    “Everyone ready?” their dad asked the kids. “Come on kids, shoes on.” Mark tugged Cole along to the door and introduced his big brother to his new pair of Mary Jane’s, before lacing up his own prince boots. Dylan was already prepared to go, fake blood and wounds as gory as could be. “You’ll stick with your big brother, right Mark?” their dad confirmed. Mark nodded, and then their dad brought out the harness. “Colie, it’s dark out, so Dylan’s gonna keep you tethered while you’re out.”
    “Um, Dad, I think it’s okay,” Dylan tried interjecting, but their father had already pulled Cole’s arms up and slipped the harness around him, tightening the straps and handing the leash to the oldest boy.
    “Don’t let Colie get lost, alright? Mark will help you keep track of him if you accidentally let go. Now have fun, kids!” He opened the front door and ushered the boys out with their pumpkin candy buckets, and finally exposed Princess Colie to the world.
    “Come on Dylan, we gotta be quick if we want the best candy!” Mark declared. He didn’t need to signal Cole, he’d have to come along whether he liked it or not.
    Dylan followed after the youngest child, wary of what he might tell their parents if he didn’t, and Cole followed from behind, pulled by the harness around him. From the back, Cole could make out a mock hatchet sticking out of his big brother’s head. Everyone would love it, but he’d probably get teased for having to pull his kid brother on a leash. It didn’t seem fair to either of them.
    The two had to play catch-up with Mark, who was already at the first door. “Trick or treat!”
    “Trick or treat,” Dylan joined in from behind, while Cole lagged the few feet away that he could.
    “Who’s that back there?” the man, Mister Nesmith, asked the boys. “Cole, is that you?”
    “She’s Princess Colie, and I’m the prince that saves her!” Mark shared. “I picked out the costume all by myself!”
    “Oh, well that’s very sweet of you,” the man replied, before handing out the candies. “Hold on, before you go—a kiss from the Princess, please.” Mark pushed Cole towards the man, and he gave the neighbor a peck on the lips. “How nice of you. Have fun, kids! Stay safe!” He waved goodbye to the three, Cole the most, and they moved on to the next home.
    The introduction was the same at every house. Cole tried to hide, but Mark needed everyone to know what he’d done to his big brother. But to Mark, Cole was no longer a “brother” at all, always introduced as a “she,” and he was helpless to correct him. The amount of kisses handed out was unbelievable, and lipstick stains could be found on more than half of their neighbors.
    Between Mrs. Hendrick and Mrs. Peterson’s homes, the three passed by a group of Cole’s friends out together, and Mark quickly grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him towards them.
    “Holy shit, is that Cole?” one of them yelled out.
    “Nope! It’s Princess Colie,” Mark answered, “She’s very pretty, right?”
    “Oh, yes,” the boys teased, “Don’t you feel pretty, ‘Princess Colie?’” One of them circled around behind him, “Why are you being walked on a leash, Princess Colie?”
    “Hey, brats, leave him alone,” Dylan butted in. Cole was helpless to defend himself, and had already broken into sobs.
    “I wonder what kind of panties the princess has on,” one boy interjected, and lifted up the front of the boy’s dress.
    “What is that?!” one of them shouted as Cole fought to force down his dress, only to have it lifted back up by Mark.
    “She has to wear plastic pants over training underwear, since she’s not fully toilet trained,” Mark explained.
    Dylan fought back, “That’s a lie, he doesn’t have any problems with the bathroom.”
    “Hey Colie, you’re still single, right?” one of the boys stood close to him, his hands wrapping around the effeminate boy and one gripping at the back of his waterproof protection, “We’ll go, but first, a kiss.” He pushed in before Cole could even consider compliance, and was pulled off by Dylan.
    “Tell anyone about this costume, and I’ll kill you,” he said, before smashing his boots into the boy’s groin, sending him falling to the pavement in tears. “Come on, let’s go.” Cole’s friends—former, now—stayed back in utter shock, and then took flight, running and leaving their injured friend behind.
    The taunting and jeering never stopped, though. Wherever they went, someone from school recognized Cole, and Dylan couldn’t get away with beating up every kid that pestered his brother. Mark let everyone know about his brother’s toilet “problem,” and even discussed the princess’ bedwetting with several of his friends.
    Late into the night, the three ran into one of Dylan’s schoolmates. “Yo, Dylan, sick costume! What’s wrong with your sister?”
    “Shut up. What do you want?” He wasn’t going to tell him that Cole was a boy, but he wasn’t going to call him a girl either.
    “Dude, sorry. I was just wondering if you were going to Andy’s party. No booze or anything, and it’s not like there’s no candy, so you can bring them too,” he said, carefully referring to Dylan’s siblings. “You coming?”
    Dylan considered. If they went, Cole wouldn’t meet any more of his friends, and their neighbors would stop getting the boy to kiss them.
    “Oh, please, please!” Mark feigned begging, concealing the authority he really had in the group.
    “Sure, why not,” Dylan answered. “Sounds like fun.”
    The boys followed Dylan to Andy’s, and he was given little fuss over leading his “sister” on a leash. It was clear that the first teen had noticed Cole’s crinkling, but he paid it no attention.
    The same couldn’t be said at the party, though. When they arrived, a girl offered to lead the younger kids to where they could pick up some candy, and Mark took hold of the leash, handing it to their new guide.
    As she lead them down the hall, she introduced herself as Aisha. “Now how about you two?” she asked. “We’ve got a kids room with plenty others your age, I’m sure you’ll get along.”
    “I’m Mark,” the littlest said, “And this is my brother, Princess Colie.” Cole flinched. He knew that asshole said “brother” on purpose.
    “Brother? Really?” She pulled him close with the tether, and examined his face. “Oh my God, you really are! Did you pick this costume out yourself?”
    “Nope! I did!” Mark smirked smugly, “A prince isn’t complete without a princess to save.”
    Aisha gave the dressed up boy a kind smile, and continued leading him on by the leash, holding him very close. “Here’s the kids room! You can fill those buckets to the top here, no need to knock on any more doors.” She left the two boys in a room filled with almost fifteen kids, and patted Cole’s padding, but paying it no mind. She had to have heard it while they were walking, even over the sound of the party. Mark, leash in hand, directed the boy to a radiator, and tied the leash with little wiggle room, so he couldn’t wander.
    “I’ll go eat some candy. You stay put, and don’t you dare untie your leash or I’ll tell Dad.” He gave his brother one last look, and walked off. Soon, he was being approached by other children, but none that he recognized, luckily.
    The first to speak was a girl dressed in the exact same princess costume as Cole. “Hey, nice costume, but are you a boy or a girl?” she asked nervously. “You’re a boy, right?”
    Cole angled his head downwards and nodded, beginning to cry. She put her finger under his chin and turned his gaze back up, “Aw, okay, I won’t make fun of you.” She closed in with a hug, and began rubbing his back, and her hand brushed against the padding through his dress. “What was that?”
    Cole knew he couldn’t hide it, so he mumbled “I-it’s my p-plastic pants…” The kids that had approached along with the girl leaned in curiously. “I don’t r-really need them, but my dad makes me…”
    A young boy, looking to be about six and dressed like a ninja, walked up and lifted the boy’s dress. “Wow! Do you ever use them?” he asked cheerily, a bit too loud, as everyone else in the room turned his way.
    “No, I-I don’t need them!” At this, his brother approached from behind.
    “Princess Colie, what did Mom tell you about lying?” He folded his arms and glared at the boy. “Go on, tell them the truth.”
    Cole didn’t have much of a choice, he either had to tell the story his family had fabricated, or let Mark tell their Dad he was “lying,” in which case he’d receive another spanking, and Mark would likely further his humiliation. “I-I n-need them…” he answered slowly, “B-because I’m still not…” he waited on the last words, and Mark cleared his throat to hurry the boy up. “Toilet trained,” he finished, and several of the enclosing kids burst into laughter. Sometime throughout the mockery, and all the kids playing with his dress and his padding, his leash was untied, and he was led to an activity table surrounded by toddlers on short stools. His leash was secured to one of the table legs, and after some further mockery, he was left to be with the little kids.
    The younger ones were no lighter on the teasing than the others, but they were more easily ignored. One even offered sympathy, explaining that they had to wear plastic pants to bed too, and most of the children at the little kids table were wearing training pants too. He even pointed out two other kids, looking to be about three and four, who were wearing harnesses too, albeit with the tether removed while they sat with the other toddlers.
    While Cole was drawing an image of himself in the Jedi costume he’d wanted, using the only tools available to him, crayons, one of his friends from school was ushered in by Aisha. He spotted his classmate sitting in the dress, and approached him.
    “Hey, Cole, um, what’s up?” he asked. “Going as a princess?” His voice contained no hint of meanness at all.
    “I didn’t want to,” Cole choked out, “My little brother made me, or my parents, or…” he trailed off. “I don’t want to be a girl.” He began crying again, and covered his face.
    His friend Isaac was standing there, shivering and shirtless, wearing boxing gloves and blue athletic shorts. “Hey, I know what it’s like,” he said, “I didn’t get to choose my costume either, my big brother did. I can’t even move my hands in these gloves. Um, can you pull over a stool for me?” Cole was restricted by the leash, but he could still reach a bright red seat, and pulled it aside for his friend, before noticing a tiny peek from the other boy’s shorts.
    “Uh, Isaac, do you always wear those?” he said, pointing to the slight appearance of the blue pull-ups poking out of his waistband. Isaac swallowed and began choking up too, and Cole quickly began to comfort him. “Shh, don’t cry, it’s okay! Look,” he raised his dress, “I have to wear these at all times now, it sucks, and I don’t even—” he looked around and then dropped his voice to a whisper, “I don’t even need them.”
    Isaac sat and leaned on the table, causing his pull-ups to peek slightly more from the back. “I don’t usually wear them, but my brother makes me whenever he’s in charge. I only need them at night.” He rested his head on one of the red gloves, and then quickly perked back up again. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”
    “No,” Cole bit his lip and considered, “I-I need them at night too.” He looked down at the skateboard designs poking out of his friend’s shorts. “I could pull your shorts up if you wanted,” he offered.
    “Really?” Isaac said excitedly, not even considering that someone else could have helped him. He stood and let the other boy lift his only garment up, concealing his padding completely. “Thanks, man.”
    The two boys took to drawing the costumes they wished they could have worn, and were joined by the princess from earlier.
    “Hey, Colie, right?” She picked up the toddler beside him and set him aside, taking his seat. “You okay after all that?”
    “Um, yeah, I guess.” Cole couldn’t do anything but try to forget the whole scenario, and hope he wouldn’t meet any of these kids again. “I don’t know why people are so mean, they know no one would ever choose to wear all this.”
    “Well, I dunno, it’s kinda cute,” she said, fingering the bow in his hair. “If you were my brother, I’d keep you like this all the time. Why be embarrassed, anyway? Have you ever worn anything this cute before?”
    Cole blushed and looked at his friend, before looking back at the other princess. “I don’t want to look cute, I just want to be a boy, and a big kid.” He tugged at his dress in case it was riding up, “And I don’t want to be walked on a leash, I’m not a baby.”
    The girl lifted his dress and examined his padding. “You sure?” She looked at his face, “Aw, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She flattened out the dress and made sure he was fully covered, “I hope you get to wear what you want, I really do, I just think it’s so cute.” She looked over at the other boy, “Are you Colie’s friend? I’m Abby, we just met.”
    “Oh, hi, I’m Isaac,” he said, “Me and Cole go to school together.” He shifted in his seat and turned to her, and Cole looked over, ensuring that his job at covering his friend’s pull-ups was still working.
    “Has Coli— um, Cole ever worn anything like this before?” she asked, still on the uncomfortable topic.
    “No, he’s a normal boy, just stop,” Isaac defended him. Cole perked up, amazed to have someone really on his side.
    Abby got the message, and apologized again. However, immediately after, an older girl appeared at the door, wearing a very similar dress to the two princesses. “Oh, that’s my sister,” Abby explained, “We’re twinsies too. I hope I see you two again, Cole and…”
    “Isaac,” the other boy answered.
    “Isaac. See you two, bye Cole!” She jogged off and joined her sister, and the two boys were left alone.

    Cole was finally able to enjoy himself with his friend, but was still glad when Dylan came to pick him and Mark up. He came over and freed him from the table, and they were off to their home. Cole received a few more remarks from other costumed kids on the street, and still had to give out one more kiss, but very soon he was safe at home, and it was almost midnight.
    Their parents greeted them, unbothered by their late return. “Did you boys have fun? And you too, Colie,” their mom said. She unbuckled the boy’s harness, and he breathed with relief. He’d half-expected to have to wear it for the rest of the night.
    “It was really fun! Everyone loved Princess Colie’s dress,” Mark shared. “She should wear a dress next year too!”
    “That’s a good idea,” she answered, “And maybe you’ll be old enough to hold her tether yourself.” Cole was disturbed—Mark was younger than him. He was a boy. Why was his mom saying this?
    Dylan rubbed his eyes, “I had fun, but I’m feeling kinda tired now. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, and he kicked off his shoes and headed off to his room.
    “Well, I hope you two haven’t filled up on candy,” their mom said, “Dinner’s ready if you want some.” Finally, good news—Cole’s first dinner in days.

    In the morning, his dad was pleased to see that Cole’s pull-up was still dry. The boy felt amazing. “Very good, Colie,” his dad praised. He tore the seals at the side and tossed the pull-up away, before easing up the boy’s training pants and locating the plastic cover.
    “Um, Dad, don’t I get to dress myself if I’m dry?” the child asked.
    “I thought about it, but I don’t think you’re ready yet.” He revealed a new pair of white footed tights after the plastics were on, “When you’ve proven you’re a big kid, you can dress yourself however you like, but until then, I’ll be in charge of that.” He pulled the tights over the kid’s plastic pants, and then slipped him into a newly bought bright orange camisole. “All set, I’ll get your jeans on when it’s time for school.”
    With the tights on, the plastics bunched up at the top, creating a peeking spillover that would be impossible to conceal. The crinkling wasn’t at all concealed either, and Cole couldn’t help but feel equally as babyish and feminine as he did the night before. Still, he couldn’t argue, and just made his way to the restroom once he’d been left alone. He did his business, and took a look at the calendars by the bathroom door. Cole could already tell Dylan was wet again, as he heard his older brother’s spanking that morning. Something seemed to have him more riled up than usual, but it wasn’t until he was seated for breakfast that he saw the fourteen-year old walk out, his arm tightly within his dad’s grip, in training pants and a plastic cover much like Cole’s.
    “Oh my God, Dylan has to wear plastic pants too!” Mark declared, pointing and smiling at his big brother.
    “Mark, don’t tease Dylan. He just needs a little more training. It’s not his fault he’s a late bloomer,” their mom chided him. “You won’t make any more comments, right?”
    “I won’t, sorry Mom,” Mark said, smirking at his big brother. Surprisingly, he hadn’t made fun of Cole’s new clothes yet. “How are you, Colie?” he asked with all seriousness.
    “Huh? Me?” Cole asked, shocked.
    “Happy to wake up dry?” Mark continued. He too was dressed, having had a dry night after staying up so late.
    “Um, yeah,” Cole answered.
    “Well, maybe the spankings are working.” It was a jab, but Mark still didn’t sound like he was making fun. “Do you like your new clothes? I think you’re very cute in them.”
    “Th-they’re okay.” Cole looked around, making sure he wouldn’t offend his parents. “They’re fine.” He finished his pancakes, and his dad softly grabbed his hand.
    “Ready to finish getting dressed for school, Colie?” He hadn’t noticed until now, but his dad’s voice was softer too.
    “Sure,” Cole said, letting his father lead him to his room. His dad lifted him up delicately and sat him on his bed, and pulled out a new pair of skinny jeans. Faint glittery flowers ran from the ankle to the thigh, and his dad turned the jeans over, revealing the word “Princess” printed on the back. Cole tugged at his leggings, but didn’t fight it, not while his dad was being nicer than he’d ever been in a long time. The pants were skintight, and only made the presence of his plastic pants even more clear, but maybe his coat would cover them—the pink coat he was still left with.
    “I’ll go get your mom for the makeup,” his dad said, leaving the room. “I love you, Colie,” he said, turning back.
    Cole looked up, unsure whether his heart should sink or not. “I love you too, Daddy.”