Forced To Wear Cartoon Briefs

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Forced To Wear Cartoon Briefs

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A poll for boys about being forced to wear cartoon briefs and how it makes you feel. Thanks for voting!

This poll was created on 2013-12-04 23:26:36
by Boyzrcool

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124 voters have answered this question.
124 voters have answered this question.
Are you forced to wear cartoon briefs?
124 voters have answered this question.
124 voters have answered this question.
How do you feel about being forced to wear cartoon briefs?
116 voters have answered this question.
Describe the cartoon briefs you are forced to wear
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80 voters have answered this question.
How does the person/people force you to wear them? (Go into detail :)
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79 voters have answered this question.
Do they make you wear tight briefs?
124 voters have answered this question.
Have other people seen you wearing cartoon briefs?
114 voters have answered this question.
What do other people think of you wearing cartoon briefs?
110 voters have answered this question.
109 voters have answered this question.
Thanks for voting and don't forget to check out my other polls! Leave your comments here guys. I can talk if you want too.
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16 voters have answered this question.

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Posted by
tighty whitey

on 2004-04-21 00:38:51
Posted by
tighty whitey

on 2004-04-21 00:44:02
Posted by
tango2

on 2005-01-23 11:44:52
Posted by
johnnylightning

on 2007-05-01 23:21:04
Posted by
johnnylightning

on 2007-05-01 23:21:46
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I am 15 y/o boy and my mom always disciplines me by making me do yard work in my tighty-whities, as she knows it embarasses me to have the neighbors seeing me with no pants on, and people walking by the house. Girls from my school walk by and see me in my underpants, and that is very embarassing. My mom made me walk to the corner store the other day with nothing but my tighty-whities on. It wouldn't have been so bad, because at least my privates are covered, but I had pee and siemen stains in them where I shot my load the night before and everyone could see that I had done it. Everyone could see my skid-marks, also, as I had been blowing a few that day, and didn't wipe too well when I went potty. I met a girl I know, in the store, and she walked back home with me, so that made it a little better. She stayed out in my yard with me while I raked leaves and did other chores, and she told me that I look nice in my underpants.
========== In Reply To ==========
I am 15 y/o boy and my mom always disciplines me by making me do yard work in my tighty-whities, as she knows it embarasses me to have the neighbors seeing me with no pants on, and people walking by the house. Girls from my school walk by and see me in my underpants, and that is very embarassing. My mom made me walk to the corner store the other day with nothing but my tighty-whities on. It wouldn't have been so bad, because at least my privates are covered, but I had pee and siemen stains in them where I shot my load the night before and everyone could see that I had done it. Everyone could see my skid-marks, also, as I had been blowing a few that day, and didn't wipe too well when I went potty. I met a girl I know, in the store, and she walked back home with me, so that made it a little better. She stayed out in my yard with me while I raked leaves and did other chores, and she told me that I look nice in my underpants.
Sometimes I ride my bike around in just my tighty-whities, so everyone sees me with no pants on. The other day my mom took me to do grocery shopping and made me go into the store with her in just my tighty-whities. Everyone saw me with no pants on, but no one seemed to care. I think people just expect that a boy will not have much modesty about going around in his underwear. I'm getting used to it now, so it doesn't bother me as much as it used to.
When my mom and dad were viviting relatives in chicago I had to stay at my aunts hous. While i was there we got into a fight and she spanked me. She said if i was going to acted like a two year old i'd have to dress like one. She told me to stay at the house and she would be back. 30 min later she walkes in and has a bag of youth childrens diapers. She siad go to you room and i'll be there in a min. I waited for like five min and she came in and told me to take of all my clothes, icluding my underwear. I did what i was told and stood by my bed freezing cold. She pushed me on my back and put a diaper on me. She said if i gave her any trouble she would make me wear them outside. About an hour later i asked her if i could take it off to use the bathroom and she said no. She said thats what the diaper is for. having to use it badly i peed my pants. She then came over and said,"has my little nephew pee-peed his pants. I was crying by that time. She changed me,gave me a bottle of milk and put me in my bed with a diaper. I lasted for one week. It sucked!
I am a 13 year old boy. One time my brothers pants fell down when we were watching TV (he is the same age as me). I laughed at him, so my mom said to go to my room. No big deal, right? WRONG! She came back with maybe 10 pairs of cartoon briefs. She took all my other clothes except for the briefs and said I have to wear them for the rest of the summer. whenever I went outside, everyone saw me. My brother gave me so many hanging wedgies, but the underwear never ripped. I would just hang in a closet for maby 3 hours in nothing but these superman cartoon briefs. They were so tight. then one day I wet myself while in a hanging wedgie, so my brother took me down and told my mom that I needed diapers. School was about to start, and she made me wear diapers during the entire school year. I constantly got pantsed, and wet myself, and recieved diaper wedgies. It was so embarrasing to get changed for gym. One time my classmates took my gym clothes, and the rule is if you dont have your clothes, you have to do gym in your underwear. My mom also made me wear speedos for the swim team instead of normal bathing suits, and speedo wedgies kill.
cartoon briefs, speedos, and diapers
I am a 13 year old boy. One time my brothers pants fell down when we were watching TV (he is the same age as me). I laughed at him, so my mom said to go to my room. No big deal, right? WRONG! She came back with maybe 10 pairs of cartoon briefs. She took all my other clothes except for the briefs and said I have to wear them for the rest of the summer. whenever I went outside, everyone saw me. My brother gave me so many hanging wedgies, but the underwear never ripped. I would just hang in a closet for maby 3 hours in nothing but these superman cartoon briefs. They were so tight. then one day I wet myself while in a hanging wedgie, so my brother took me down and told my mom that I needed diapers. School was about to start, and she made me wear diapers during the entire school year. I constantly got pantsed, and wet myself, and recieved diaper wedgies. It was so embarrasing to get changed for gym. One time my classmates took my gym clothes, and the rule is if you dont have your clothes, you have to do gym in your underwear. My mom also made me wear speedos for the swim team instead of normal bathing suits, and speedo wedgies kill.

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Reluctant Boy-Girl by Pat T. My mother divorced my father because he beat her. He was rich, though, and got custody of me. My mother refused to turn me over, contending he beat me too. This simply wasn't true, but I guess Mom didn't want to give the bastard any satisfaction and I felt too sorry for her to tell anyone the truth. My mother hid me at one of her childhood friend's houses in Texas. The judge put Mom in jail until she revealed my whereabouts while my father hired a Private Investigator to find me. I called the woman I stayed with "Aunt" Helen although she wasn't really a relation. She, too, was divorced with a daughter named Tracy. Aunt Helen now hated all men and lectured me incessantly on how I had to be faithful to my mother and not contact my father under any circumstances. On fateful night as we watched TV my whereabouts, which had enjoyed some brief national attention, became news again. The announcer read a report that my father had contracted even more PIs and would begin contacting all of my mother's known acquaintances. My Aunt watched the conclusion of the piece and turned to me. "John," she said quietly, "I knew the time would come when they would search for you here. I have a plan, but I need your complete cooperation. Will you help your mother and me?" This was quite a lot of pressure to put on a thirteen year old. My mind in a frenzy, I simply nodded. "Thank you, John. As you know, some bad people will stop here soon looking for a young boy, but they won't find one. Do you know why?" I shook my head. "They won't find a young boy because you will be turned into a young girl! Tracy and I will transform you into such a convincing vision of femininity that no one will ever guess you were once a boy. Right Tracy?" "Oh, Mom, what a great idea! John will make a foxy girl. He can probably wear most of my things and his face is almost too pretty for a boy already. Let's start right now. What do you suggest, Mom, skirt or slacks?" "Since we want to prevent him from being identified as a boy, we'll need to go overboard on making sure everything about him just screams 'female'. That means no pants at any time and lots of girlish touches even in his most casual moments. We have to go overboard on lace, lingerie, heels, makeup, the works." I forget most of the details of that evening except that I went to bed wearing one of Tracy's nighties. My hair had been subjected to dizzying number of processes and then wound up in enormous rollers covered by a giant pink cap. My hands had been coated with skin softener and placed in white cotton gloves for the night. My face had been slathered in cold cream. Considering the strange sensations I was experiencing, it was amazing how quickly I fell asleep. I was awakened at six the next morning by Tracy. "Get up, sleepyhead. We've got a lot to do today. Go and wash your hands and face while I get your outfit ready." I obeyed. Returning, I saw that Tracy had made my bed and laid out a bewildering array of lacy apparel, a yellow dress and a pair of girls pumps. She handed me a pair of pale blue panties and let me modestly slip them on under my nightie before I took the nightie off. Next came a matching bra and dark brown pantyhose. She padded out my bra with cotton balls and taught me how to put on a blue slip by sliding it over my head. At this point she wrapped a plastic cape around my neck, sat me down and brushed out my hair. "Oh, it's darling! No one will ever suspect you're a boy." I sat still while she applied makeup. The smells were strange as was the feeling of my hair tickling my neck. Finally she removed my cape and let me get up. She held out my dress and let me step into it from the top "so you won't mess up your hair". I later learned that the style was a shirtwaist, yellow, with a hem hitting me a few inches above the knee. Tracy asked me to button the top. It was difficult because it buttoned backwards, but I finally got it right. She helped me slip into the brown leather sling back pumps. They had medium heels and it took me awhile to walk in them but Tracy was patient. "Real girls take a long time to learn how to manage their heels, too. You're doing fine." After she was satisfied, she had me wrestle with jewelry clasps until I was sporting a gold choker necklace, a charm bracelet, an ankle bracelet and four rings. Finally she sprayed me with perfume and led me downstairs to breakfast. It certainly felt strange masquerading as a girl. I had to watch my feet to keep from tripping in the heels and I found myself attracted to the nyloned legs and feminine pumps that were mine. My aunt made a tremendous fuss when I entered the kitchen, making me stand still as she walked around me. It was weird wearing girls clothes but I tried to make the best of it and play along. After eating, I started to learn how to do 'girl' chores. My aunt slipped an apron over my head and tied an enormous bow in back. I was handed a pair of rubber gloves and told to do the breakfast dishes. I had a easy enough time of it but I kept having to peer over my breasts. A strange feeling came over me as I realized that boys would be attracted to me in my disguise! I tried to get used to my new identity, but I couldn't ignore how the hosiery hugged my legs, how the heels changed my posture-forcing my breasts and fanny out invitingly. Eventually I finished up the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen and joined my aunt and Tracy in the living room. "John," my aunt began, "Tracy and I were just saying that we need to call you something feminine. What's your favorite girl's name?" I stammered that I had never thought about it. "Well, then, how about 'Heather'? I just love that name, don't you Tracy?" "Wow, Mom, that's great! OK with you Heather?" Consistent with most of my other action in the last two days, I simply nodded dumbly. "Well, Heather, we're about ready for your public debut. My friend Debbie runs a beauty parlor and she's agreed to give you the works. Tracy, get Heather set up with a purse." Before I knew it, I had a purse stuck in my hand and was propelled out the front door. What a clatter I made in my heels! The sight of sunlight bouncing off my yellow dress filled me with fear of discovery. I made my way as fast as possible to the car and jumped in the back seat. The drive into town was uneventful. After my aunt pulled up in front of the beauty parlor, I opened the door and slid out as I always have. The difference was that in a dress, I succeeded in having it ride up to my waist. Two boys whistled appreciably at the leg show I had provided. Tracy giggled as I turned several shades of red. We entered the beauty parlor and Debbie introduced herself. "Oh, Helen, he's adorable. We'll have him all dolled up in no time. Strip down to your bra and panties and put on a robe, honey." I went behind a curtain and, struggled out of all the clothing, put on the short pink terricloth robe and rejoined Debbie. As soon as I sat in the chair Debbie and two other beauticians practically attacked me! One girl waxed my legs and gave me a pedicure. The second installed ceramic nails and pierced my ears. Debbie, meanwhile, cut my hair, gave me a perm and plucked my eyebrows. Although most of the procedures were uncomfortable, I still got the impression that I was pampered. While I sat under the hair dryer, Tracy handed me fashion magazines to read. I couldn't hear over the roar of the dryer, but Tracy would point to an outfit and then point at me, indicating that I would look good in it. My hair was styled and I was sent to get dressed again. My nails made everything more difficult, but I managed to put it all back on. The pantyhose and slip felt different against my hairless legs. I returned to the chair and waited while Debbie restored my makeup. The trip home was uneventful except for my sore earlobes. Once there, my feminine training shifted into high gear! Tracy had me put on a pair of spike heels at least 4" tall and balanced a book on my head to teach me how to walk convincingly. While I minced back and forth, she read me teenage romance novels and quizzed me on the girls' actions. "What would you have done if you were Sarah? Would you wear a long prom gown or a sexy short one? How would you have dressed for that big date with Bob? Do you think it's embarrassing wearing those little cheerleading skirts? What do you think that wedding gown felt like?" Before long I was concentrating on the questions, only occasionally thinking about managing my heels. Aunt Helen came in after about an hour and gave me few pointers. "Put one foot directly in front of the other- it will give you a wiggle. And keep your legs together as you walk. You should feel you nylons rub against on another with every step." After another hour, me feet ached! Tracy let me change into a pair of flats and had me practice sitting in a chair, crossing my legs and then getting up. The goal was twofold- to keep my skirts unwrinkled and to avoid displaying more of my feminine underpinnings than I wanted to. It turned out that I tended to be too modest! "A girl is used to putting her legs on display every day. We don't think twice about flashing a little thigh and the boys love it. As long as your panties don't show, it's probably OK." At last the exercise was over and I was given another teenage romance novel to study until bedtime. I had to write down each outfit mentioned and guess about what underthings would be appropriate. Finally, under Tracy's direction, I put my hair up in rollers, creamed off my makeup, took my 'vitamins' and applied the lotions. I slipped into a pink baby doll set and quickly fell asleep, dreaming of lace and lingerie. The next morning I showered with a cap on and dusted myself with scented powder. Tracy knocked on the bathroom door and told me that we were going to the mall and I was pick out my own outfit. With my hair up in curlers, wearing a pink terrycloth robe and selecting dress from my closet, it struck me that anyone seeing this would have a hard time believing I was a boy. I finally settled on a simple black sheath with little cap sleeves. I laid it on the bed and picked out a pair of black leather pumps with little roses on the toes. Concentrating, I slipped on a pair of nylon panties and a new pair of off-black support pantyhose. I had to slide my male equipment down between my legs to give me a credible girlish front. I donned a padded black bra as Tracy had showed me by hooking it up in front and then twisting it around into position. Next I tugged on a black full slip and adjusted the shoulder straps. I sat down and took the rollers out of my hair and brushed it out. It still looked good! I sponged on some light foundation and managed to get my mascara on without smearing it. A little blusher and lip gloss completed my makeup. I stepped into my dress and shrugged it over my shoulders. What a time I had zipping it up! I stepped into the heels and minced over the full length mirror. The dress was kind of short, but not too inappropriate, I thought. Remembering my fash
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