from Gerald

Dear Auntie Helga,

I wanted to take this opportunity to share my petticoating experiences as a boy at the hands of my mother and sister. As you may recall, my mother and sister picked me up at my grandmother's farm house in the white dress that she had made me and we returned home. (previously published account with his grandmother in January 2020)

I was still wearing the dress as we pulled into our neighborhood and I slide down in the back seat of the car so no one would see me. Instead of pulling into the garage as she normally did, she parked on the driveway and I had to walk to our front door. I was so embarrassed! My father greeted me and told me what a beautiful little girl I was. My mother said, "Let's get you out of that dress" and we headed to my bedroom. I was so thankful.

When we got to my bedroom I was shocked to see that it was completely filled with boxes and bags of girl's attire. They were my sister Sarah's hand me downs. Sarah was seven years my elder and was sixteen. My mother must have been saving them for years. I changed into my boy clothes and helped my father set the table. The next morning my mother and sister had me try on everything! Some of the things were too small and were set aside to donate. Some were too large and boxed for later when I had grown into them. Many items fit perfectly and soon my drawers were full of panties, training bras, slips, blouses, tops, girl's pants, shorts, pajamas and frilly socks. Several dresses, frocks and pinafores were neatly hung in my closet beside my new petticoats.

As time passed I was frequently petticoated by my mother and sister when I was rude, disobedient or for even minor infractions, such as interrupting their conversations. My sister and her friends would petticoat me for their amusement and my torment. Once my mother overheard Sarah call me a little sissy and my mother corrected her. She said that she felt like the term was degrading and I wasn't being raised to be less of a man, but rather a whole and complete man. I was referred to as, "My Darling" from that day forward and collectively my mother and sister referred to my father and me as "Our Darlings". Sarah was also given the responsibility of administering my corporal punishment, under the strict supervision of my mother, when necessary. No matter how good I had been, I was always petticoated at least once a month for Sunday dinner.

One weekend when I was eleven my grandmother and grandfather came to visit. She had made me a frilly pink dress and after church she and Sarah dressed me for dinner. When we had finished dinner my father and grandfather cleaned up the kitchen and I was taken to the living room. I recall sitting on the sofa between my mother and grandmother and we discussed the sermon. It had been about the great commandments. My mother explained what it meant to "Love your neighbor", more specifically what it meant to love. I don't recall her exact words, but she basically said that men always sought self-gratification and power. They were selfish, rude and abusive and if left to their own ways were always alone. Women, on the other hand, were wise and nurturing and always sought connection. Only the feminine had the natural capacity to love. She explained that the purpose of my petticoating was to awaken the feminine within me so as to prepare me for connection with others and to learn how to love completely. She asked me if I understood and I replied, "Yes, Mother".

Over the years, "Yes, Mother" has become sort of a mantra. I say it all the time. I find it peaceful, relaxing and the very best two words to prepare me for meditation or deep sleep. It connects me to her, to the feminine within me and to the feminine in the spiritual universe.

In the fall of that year my sister left for college and never really returned home to live. She only came for holidays and visits. By then she had her own boyfriend and we had spent less time together. The day she left she sat me down beside her on her bed and said, "I will miss you my Little Darling". I said that I would miss her too and she gave me the most wonderful hug and kiss. I had never felt so heart broken or sad until that day.

My mother continued petticoating me occasionally until I was almost fourteen. By then I had learned to be absolutely obedient to her and was well on my way towards learning how to serve by helping my father with the household duties. One day she surprised me with a new pair of black lacy panties and wanted me to try them on. I did as she requested and as she was checking the fit around my legs I became aroused. She commented on how nicely I had grown, but the panties were too small and she took them off. She left my bedroom with the panties. I felt so embarrassed standing in front of her with an erect member.

The next day my mother called in sick to work and when I returned home from school I discovered that all of my girls' clothes had been removed from my drawers. My mother never petticoated me again and I returned to the life of a normal teenager. My mother insisted that I play a contact sport and I played football in junior high and high school. One day when I sixteen I came home from school with a bloodied nose and a black eye. I knew my mother was going to be terribly upset and when she got home I went to her to explain what had happened. I had gotten into a fight with a bully that was harassing a friend of mine. She stopped me and told me that she had already heard. Instead of getting angry, she gave me a big hug and kisses and told me how proud she was of me for standing up for someone smaller and weaker than myself.

I only had a few dates with girls my own age in high school. My mother wanted me to concentrate on my studies. When I was seventeen she introduced me to a friend of hers that had tragically lost her husband in an automobile accident a few years earlier. Mrs. Collinsworth was very attractive and made the very best chocolate chip cookies with walnuts. I would tend to her yard and garden and do other chores for her. One day after I finished mowing her yard she invited me into her house to give me a treat. I thought how great a cookie. Instead she took me to her bedroom and had me lay down on her bed. It was my dear, sweet Mrs. Collinsworth that gave me my first queening! I spent many other delightful afternoons at her house and she taught me how to please a woman.

When I was eighteen and graduated from high school I applied and was accepted at a nearby state university. I had received a packet of information from the university and upon reviewing the dorm information went to my mother to tell her which dorm I wanted to stay in. She told me that wasn't necessary as she had made arrangements for me to stay with the daughter of a friend of hers. I would do her cooking and cleaning and for that would receive room and board. It was that fall that I met my beloved Ms. Mansfield, the woman that would become my wife and loving dom of over 45 years. She would continue my petticoating in her own unique manner and help me achieve all my talents and potential as a submissive male. She would be the source and inspiration of my self-actualization!


Thank you for your letter Gerald and for expanding on your petticoating experience to include your childhood at the hands of your loving mother and sister. Her understanding of the corrective effects of such treatment is evident and her use only occasionally must have added to the intense shame you felt at the time, being exposed to others, allowing your sister to punish you all contributed to your successful relationship with your love, Ms. Mansfield. This represents an outstanding use of petticoat punishment.

Auntie Helga

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Letter 9