As you know, I am a firm believer in Female Led Relationships (FLR) and in the use of petticoating, enforced sissification, and chastity training as valuable tools for FLR women to use as they establish and exert their authority within their marriages. In my own life, I not only follow these dictates, but also do all that I can to encourage other women to take command within their marriages - and thanks to the example that they have seen me set and with my active support and guidance, several of my closest friends have turned their own marriages into ones based upon an FLR philosophy.
All of which raises the obvious question about what led me to this view of male-female relationships? In my case, I think that there is something inherent to my character that has always made me want to command and dominate, so that from the first time that I made the man that I eventually married put on a pair of panties and submit to my authority, I felt quite content in my role.
However, it is also quite obviously significant that I was raised in an FLR household. I grew up with three siblings: a sister three years my senior, and two brothers (twins) five years younger than me. And in our home, there was one person in charge: my mother. She had a naturally very dominating and controlling personality, and simply expected (and demanded) the other members of the family (including our father) to be compliant and obedient. This was especially the case with the three males. My mother, in fact, was open regarding her belief that females are superior to males and that it is the natural role of the male to serve the wishes and desires of females.
While my mother completely dominated my father, she did not sissify and petticoat him to the same extent that I have done with my own 24/7 sissy maid hubby. However, we were all quite aware of the fact that our father was essentially her slave - not only working at his daily job, but also being responsible for almost all household chores (including shopping, cooking, cleaning, and laundry) while doing our mother's bidding in any other way she desired as well. Her word was, quite literally, his command.
We were also quite aware that mother kept him in panties at all times, and when he did anything that displeased her to even the slightest degree, he was punished. Mother's punishments of choice for him were "slippering" and petticoating. And usually when he was punished, both slippering and petticoating were involved. What that meant was that mother would send him to the bedroom to get dressed in one of the maid's outfits that she had purchased for him - including high heels, bra, panties, garter belt, stockings, black skirt and white blouse. The slippering part involved a spanking (with his skirt pulled up and his panties pulled down) with a flexible, flat-soled slipper. And mother really knew how to administer the kind of spanking that would teach him the important of obedience (and that would bring him to uncontrollable tears). Needless to say, our father did all that he could to avoid these sessions - and so they were not really very common. He was VERY well behaved..
With my brothers, petticoating and sissification were simply a part of their daily lives. My mother was repulsed by "masculinity" in the traditional sense, and was determined to raise my brothers in such a way as to ensure that any masculine inclinations they might have would be repressed and eliminated. What this meant in practice was that my brothers were raised with lots of what my mother called "Girl Time". During Girl Time, the boys dressed completely in typical girls' clothes for their age (mostly, although not entirely, hand-me-downs from me and my sister) and were required to behave like polite and well-behaved young girls and to engage in what are typically thought of as girl activities. In fact, there was never a time in their lives (even as toddlers) when they did not spend part of every day in Girl Time.
Growing up they shared a bedroom, and if you were to have walked into the room without knowing whose it was, it would never have occurred to you that it was anything other than the room of a pair of girls. The room was pink, and any books and toys were those most traditionally suited to young girls (dolls and so on), and the closet was filled with dresses and skirts and blouses. Our mother insisted my brothers keep their hair quite long, and during Girl Time they were required to have it neatly brushed into braids or a pony tail or pig tails, always held in place with pretty pink ribbons or barrettes. When they were preschoolers my sister and I usually did their hair for them, but by the time they were seven or eight the boys were responsible for their hair themselves, and so it was very common, when I got home from school, to see them in their bedroom, each one usually dressed in a pretty skirt and blouse and girl's sweater (matching outfits of course) taking turns brushing each others hair to make sure their appearance would not draw mom's ire for being unkept or unfeminine.
Of course, they boys were not permitted to engage in the sports that were typical activities for boys their age, and no pictures of sports heroes adorned their bedroom walls. In fact, if either of them ever said anything about wanting to grow up to be like a male sports star, mother would make clear to them that such thinking was not permissible and instead, she encouraged them to admire, and to want to be like, female actresses and models and so on. I remember one year, for example, when the winter Olympics were on TV. The only events that my brothers were permitted to watch, however, were the female figure skating events, and all of the talk with them focused on how pretty and graceful the skaters were and about whether my brothers should take up figure skating themselves and whether they should have their hair styled the way that Dorothy Hamill did (a style that mother decided was actually a little too short and boyish for them).
What I hope this description makes clear is that our mother did not use petticoating as a form of punishment with my brothers. Instead, Girl Time was her way of raising my brothers to be gentle, effeminate, respectful, and accepting of female superiority and authority. For actual punishment with my brothers she used slippering - but as was the case with my father, those sessions were so dreaded that it was extremely rare that either of the boys disobeyed in any way.
One punishment session that I recall quite vividly, however, occurred when my brothers were ten or eleven. They were in Girl Time, and were helping my father prepare dinner when the phone rang. It was a friend of my brothers' from school inviting them to a suddenly-organized party that evening at the friend's house. Both boys really wanted to go, but of course, they were dressed at that moment in Girl Time clothes (as I recall - pink frilly bobby socks, mary jane shoes, pink panties, short navy blue pleated skirts, frilly white blouses, and pink girl's cardigan sweaters, and with their hair in pony tails tied with large baby blue ribbons). My brothers begged our mother for permission to go, but she said no - stating that Girl Time took priority over all other activities. And then the boys did something that they very soon regretted. They turned to our father and asked him to intercede with mother on their behalf. Wow. BIG mistake. But just as surprising was that our father did ask mom to reconsider.
Well - you can probably imagine easily what happened next. Mom was furious at having her decision questioned. She basically took my father by the ear and marched him immediately upstairs. We couldn't see what was happening, but could hear them both clearly, as my father began to apologize profusely and to beg for forgiveness as he promised to never do something like that again. All that mom said was "get dressed". And then - a few minutes later - "get the slipper". What we next heard was the distinctive sound of a slipper slapping rear-end flesh and the sound of our father crying and still begging for forgiveness. When the two of them returned to the kitchen, our father was outfitted in his maid's uniform, but we could also see that his eyes were red from crying while his rear was almost glowing red (mom made him show it to us) from the slippering.
By this time, my brothers knew their fate was sealed, and were both already crying, even though their own punishments had not yet begun. They begged for mercy and promised never to ask to be let out of a Girl Time session again, but mom was in no mood to be gentle with them. And so, first one, and then the other, lay across her lap - skirt up and panties down - crying uncontrollably as slipper met rear end again and again and again. For the entire rest of the evening, neither my brothers nor my father were able to sit down.
Thank you for your letter Sandra. Your upbringing embodies the petticoating and FLR philosophy that PDQ strives to promote, it was obviously very successful for you. Spending time as a girl adds the refining touches all young boys require and I feel being witness to this process encouraged you to become so successful at instituting such a program yourself.