PG Marry On Cowgirl
Here's one Carry On film you may have missed- its target audience was sissies. Completely misunderstood at the time, it was unfairly panned at its premiere and has never been since.
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Marry On Cowgirl

Let me introduce to you the main players:

1 The Pumpo Kid,

He chats up girls in Todge City, persuading them they'll make it big in the new silent screen wonder, Hollywood, where they sign up with an agent, his brother. The many failures on the road to stardom are pensioned off to the reservation of:

2 Big Chief Bull,

Who dresses them in "heap pretty" sissy dresses.

3 Miss Hazel Marshall,

The government assign her to Todge City as they need a new sheriff. The old one had been bribed away to Big Chief's reservation by The Pumpo Kid, to enjoy his share of the squaws.

Hazel is the new breed of emancipated woman, the government's very best agent. She dresses like a man, and drives to Todge in her flash new automobile.

4 Marshall Nut,

he is a freak vaudeville artist, who is traveling by the iron road for a hoped-for change of fortune in Hollywood. On the train, for an impromptu performance for much needed cash, he puts on one of his shows, in which he plays a grown up baby.

Now read on.........

1 The Race

Hazel, always called by her friends Janey after a comic strip character of the day, was touching 60mph in her open top sports car, getting her kicks by racing the westbound express thru the wild countryside.

As she drew alongside the rear coach, as ever, she attracted a few wolf whistles. To egg the guys on, she waved at them, their heads were leaning right out the window, eyes popping at this flash auto, with an even flasher blonde, her black eyelashes flashing invitations that could only be refused because none of the fellers dared leap off the speeding train.

Alongside the next coach, she achieved even greater adulation, as she unbottoned her top jacket, which proudly showed off her offical badge of authority. Her bulging naked breasts were a sight for sore eyes.

"You goin' to Todge?" one ogling passenger yelled out.

"You bet! You can buy me a drink there," she shouted back.

She had now drawn up to the second carriage from the front, where already faces were gawping, drawn by the commotion further down the express.

Janey began a-wavin', to great cheering, then an inspiration led her to lean back and steer with her feet. She could do anything that girl!

The driver and fireman were leaning from their cab in admiration, but why was there no-one admiring her from the front coach?

Some rival attraction was on here, everyone was laughing at this weird sight of a grown up in only a diaper. He was sucking his thumb and singing at the same time!

Janey drew back her manly jacket so the full impact of those inviting breasts could be devoured- but who was looking?

From further down the train, to be sure, there were cries of "turn round and show us too!"

In desperation, as she leaned back, Janey undid her pants. That did nothing for Carriage One, though the wobble of the car as her feet slipped, did cause the fireman to tumble off his perch and into the highway.

Hazel swerved to avoid him, smashing into some lineside poles, which crashed on the loco. With a screech, the car went a-flyin'.

2 The New Marshal

The show had been going swell. Marshal Nut's absurd depiction of a grown up baby had the fellers in stitches, and the women swooning, and even stroking his naked baby flesh.

Nut wasn't clear exactly what happened next.

He had been conscious of disturbance in the next coach, and of the noise of a speeding car behind his back, when suddenly the train jerked to a halt, passengers thrown everywhere.

Nut himself hurtled thru the open window and landed on something soft a good hundred yards from his audience.

He must have been unconscious, but for how long? He was lying among bushes, on cacti, and as he looked down, he was sitting on something, or more properly, someone.

Not just anyone, this was Janey. Nut was overcome with her beauty, even though her hair was a mess, she had clearly bumped her head, for she was out cold. Politely he lifted his diaper off her face, apologizing, though this was hardly necessary as she couldn't hear him.

He looked round. The train was puffing into the sunset. The debris of a flashy sports car surrounded them.

Marshall Nut removed cactus out of the lovely girl and tried to revive her. With no success, he determined to run for help in Todge City, which looked a few miles distant.

I'd better put something on, he reflected, a grown up baby crawling into town might seem a mite peculiar. You see, he couldn't remove the diaper, since one of his fans had locked it during his performance. They still had the key.

The girl's jacket had somehow flown off in transit, so he picked that up. She'd be alright in the warm night air, his need of that jacket was greater.

It reached down to his upper thigh, his bulging diaper still visible, unless he kept the jacket pulled tight down. He was about to remove her pants, merely, you understand, to don them himself, when he was arrested by the sight of several men with feathers in their heads riding his way.

Hastily, Nut hid behind a convenient large boulder, leaving the lady where she lay. Her naked breasts shimmered in the setting sun.

He was resolving to himself whether he should challenge them, when they too, attracted by her beauty, stopped and after some approving hums, laid her on a horse. But Nut was more than a little coward, and besides, how could one man prevent five of them?

So he waited until the coast was clear, then hotfooted it to Todge.

3 Made A Sissy

Janey's eyes opened upon a sea of girls in diaphanous costumes. At first she thought she must be in heaven, until one young lady stepped forward and touched her.

"Pwetty!"

She was caressing Janey's breasts. Like the others she wore a transparent chiffon dress, buckled at the waist, adorned with a myriad of pretty little yellow flowers around ev'ry edge.

She wore a headband also trimmed with flowers, and one white feather sticking erect in the night sky. All dressed identically, except for the feathers which came in ev'ry imaginable color, though white predominated.

"Me dwess oooo," the pretty lady said simply.

"Thanks," replied Janey, for the temperature was dropping a mite in the night air. "I'm Hazel, my friends call me Janey."

"Me White Snowdwop," her helper said, as she slipped a diaphanous dress over the naked girl. Then she took down her pants, and buckled the dress tightly. She introduced each of her friends as she did so, they all politely curtsied as they were introduced.

"Me take you to Big Chief," continued Snowdrop.

"Big Chief?"

"Big Chief Bull, him take care all us girls."

"Are there no boys?"

"Yeah, yeah, they are out hunting, it was five of them brought you here."

Janey learned that all these girls had been adopted by Big Chief after they had been thrown out of Hollywood. The ones in white feathers are his wives, his relations have about one wife each. They all love it here, for this tribe are exceedingly rich- black gold!

Big Chief stood an impressive man six foot six, with many feathers on his head, one for each wife, whispered Snowdrop. He too wore a chiffon dress, but like his male relations, this was in black.

"Me likeum you," he offered as Janey was presented.

Before she knew it, a white feather was upon her head!

4 City Baby

Hiding his diaper as best he could, Nut dashed into town seeking help for the lady in distress.

He burst into the saloon, to be jeered by a host of men, a-playin' poker.

"Say, ma's been lettin' her ickle boy out," exclaimed The Pumpo Kid, as laughter rang all round the place., "ain't you tucked up in bed for der night, sonny?"

"No, my name's Nut, I-"

"Well, we'd better do it for him, shall we boys?"

The gang of them surrounded the protesting baby and creating a makeshift bed on the bar, The Pumpo Kid grabbed a carpet and pretended to sing the new arrival to sleep.

The barman zipped the cap off a bottle of beer and began to feed baby, though most of it sloshed over his face.

"Sorry, babe," he laughed.

Meantime, The Pumpo Kid was pumping his 'baby.'

"Time you grew up, little one," amid more guffaws. "Fill your diaper for daddy."

'Baby' choked, fell off the high bed, knocked his head on the bar and collapsed unconscious.

"Wal, ain't that too bad, shame the noo sheriff ain't arrived yet to keep us in order!"

"Hey, Pumpo," cried the barman, "this here really is the new sheriff. Look!" He pointed to the marshall's badge on Nut's jacket.

"You gorn and dun it now," said another. A hurried conversation, and the unconscious marshall was carried towards his office.

"Wader goddarn minute," cried Pumpo, as the motionless body was carried across the street to the office.

"Wot, boss?"

"We was told this hyer new sheriff was Marshall Hazel."

"Waal...?"

"Is this a girl?"

Nut's lifeless corpse was dropped on the road, and they all stared.

Of course, these guys all knew a female when they saw one, and she sure didn't have breasts.

"Maybe we oughter check in that diaper?" was one suggestion.

The smell however curtailed that bright idea.

"Mebbes, that's why she's got such a repute," scoffed The Pumpo Kid, "no-one knows 'cept us she's a man. Say, Bo, fetch that feeding trough."

"Sure thing boss."

"Let's dump it in the plumb center of this hyer street and let the folks see in the morn their new marshal."

They all laughed.

Like a baby in its cradle, Marshall Nut was tucked in his trough, a rough horse blanket covering him.

"Goodnight, baby!"

Baby stirred.

"Why looks, Marshall Hazel Nut is a-stirrin'! Hyer, give it your gun Bo, so it can defend us poor innocent folks proper like."

They all walked over to the saloon laughing, with Nut clutching a gun, never used one afore.

"Oh, by the way, marshal, " cried Pumpo as he turned back at the saloon door, when we've had our fill of the girls, watch out at dawn for gunplay. It mebbe Indians attacking...."

5 Sissy To the Rescue

   "Me like-um pretty new wife, " declared Big Chief Bull, keenly surveying his new plaything, and eagerly feasting on the transparency of her dress.

He little knew Janey was of sterner stuff.

"You come to my tent," he ordered, clutching her arm.

As she shook her head, his persuasiveness reached boiling point.

"Me give pretty squaw Two Feathers," he exclaimed, as though this were the greatest honor anyone could ever bestow.

Janey returned a withering look. He was no John Wayne. When he pulled her roughly, she gave better than she got, and Big Chief was sprawling on the hard ground.

Leaving him spluttering with rage, she ran over to the girls' communal tent, where those who were not engaged entertaining their men were idly chatting.

Quickly she explained who she was and asked if any of the girls wanted to come back with her to their old homes in Todge.

Half a dozen of them, maybe frustrated by the lack of attentions given them, followed Janey. Only Big Chief Bull stood in their path.

"Get stuffed big boy," cried Janey, and hitting him where it hurt most, sent him tumbling to the ground once again. The seven mounted horses and galloped away, their white diaphanous dresses blowing in the breeze like ghostly riders of the night.

At the edge of town they dismounted, and crept cautiously to the main street. Noises from the saloon indicated where the action was, and in the shadows of the buildings, they made straight for the sheriff's office. But their progress was arrested by the extraordinary sight of a large guy in the center of the street lying in a horse trough.

Curiosity got the better of 'em, and they approached the extraordinary object. As they emerged from the shadows, a homegoer caught sight of their ghostly forms, and ran yelling back to the saloon.

The magnificent seven dodged into the safety of the sheriff's office. Outside a bunch of hombres were searching the street, in evident disbelief, laughing at the unfortunate one who had been scared in the dark. Soon they'd returned to their fun, and when all was safe, Marshall Hazel, Janey herself, bid her six friends, with White Snowdrop in charge, lock the door, once of course she had gone out.

She went back to the trough. She had already spotted her own jacket. Succinctly, Nut explained his dilemma, now not only was he locked in his diaper, but he'd been locked in the trough like some poor tethered critter. At dawn they'd be a gunnin' for him.

Into the saloon strode a newcomer. The wenches entertaining the men found themselves thrown over laps, as every eye turned on the lass with the diaphanous flowery dress with two feathers in her head.

The Pumpo Kid was naturally first to her, pushing aside any possible rivals.

"You sure is some cowgirl, miss! Wanna drink?"

"You bet, stranger."

"Folks call me The Pumpo Kid, I guess I run the place."

Guess again, Janey thought to herself, but out loud she invited him,

"Ma name's Janey. Is there a good room in town, where a gal can tart herself up a bit? "

"Sure thing, follow me, " gasped The Pumpo Kid, hardly believing his good fortune.

It was hardly The Ritz, but it had served Pumpo well in his time.

"You want it baby?" he gasped, pushing his luck still further.

"You can pump me any time, big boy," cried Janey as they embraced. He went all weak as their bodies pressed, her soft breasts melting him.

"Aw, I'm too tired now," cried Janey, "bring me up my breakfast at ten, and I'll be a waitin' for yer."

Disappointed, The Pumpo Kid, had to leave, but encouraged by the teasing wink she offered as he gazed at her a last time from the doorway.

Of course, back downstairs with the boys he was a-boastin' that he'd pumped her in record time. All the boys looked on admiringly. What The Kid didn't know was that as they'd embraced, she'd emptied his gun of bullets.

"Say, one of you, can you fetch me a hot water bottle," called down Janey from her bed, "pwease."

There was an almighty rush, and minutes later the sissy was lying in warm comfort- with five bottles! As she thanked each in turn with a kiss, she surreptitiously removed their bullets too.

6 High Dawn

The worse for drink, having been royally entertained by the local wenches, the guys from the saloon made for home, on their way they were gonna enjoy one last bit o' fun, scaring the new marshal by riddling his trough full o' holes.

Bang! To The Pumpo Kid fell the honor of firing the first bullet.

Ping!! The bullet seemed to graze within an inch of Pumpo's head. Yet he was sure his bullet hadn't actually fired. He aimed at the foot of the trough and shot again.

"I'll waken that goddarned baby wi' this," he laughed.

Ping!! He jumped. A bullet ripped into the ground inches in front of his feet.

The gang took their aims with equally devastating effect. Marshall Janey was crouched behind the trough and her aim was unerring. Soon the guys were a-dancin' in fear, joke backfired. Janey stood up, now in her marshal's jacket.

"Take 'em to the cells girls!"

Six white dresses. White Snowdrop at their head, emerged from the office and the mesmerised baddies were pushed to their doom.

"Wal, ah'll be..." groaned Pumpo.

"I told yers I saw them," cried the homegoer.

Once locked away, the girls performed a dance in the high street, and as the townsfolk awoke to a new day, an amazing sight they beheld.

From that day on, everyone in town, every local, every visitor, always wears a sissy dress, in celebration of Marshall Hazel Nut's triumph. As for baby Marshall Nut, it was a great honor for his name to be borrowed by the new marshal, and though he didn't marry her, he made his fortune in Hollywood, mainly on the strength of that Cowgirl tale, which got embellished more richly with every telling. They even made a film of it.

THE END
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