MY PUNISHMENT DRESSED AS A GIRL
from Pricella

Dear Auntie Helga,

I clearly remember being punished as a girl. It was in the early fifties and I was in foster care. The foster mother took in several boy boarders for extra money and had one child of her own, a girl about a year older than myself. I never met my father as he ran off before marrying my mother. I felt I was a discard for being a boy since all the other foster kids were also boys. The foster mother showed little affection towards us boarders but really spoiled her daughter. I really envied her as she had a room by herself and had lots of toys and beautiful clothes.

When home with my mother on the weekends, I would sometimes ask why girls were treated differently than boys and how come they got to wear fancy dresses and stuff while we boys couldn’t. My mother said it was just social rules to make it easier to tell the genders apart. She then added, sometimes she wished she had a little girl so she could have dressed her up in pretty dresses. She would then say it didn’t mean she didn’t love me. However the damage was done and I felt I was a disappointment for being a boy.

A couple years passed and I grew ever more curious what it would have felt like to have been a girl. I must have been around eight when I happened to see the foster mother putting one of her daughter’s dresses away in a back room cabinet. That night, as I tried to sleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about that dress and wishing I could try it on to see what it would feel like to be a girl. When I thought everyone was asleep, I couldn’t hold back any longer and slipped down stairs and into the back room. Nervously, I searched the cabinet until I found my treasure. My hands shook as I removed it and struggled to slip it over my head under the dim light from the window.

As it slipped down, it felt magical. It felt as if the dress not only fit me but I fit the dress. My heart was beating with excitement as I tried to tie the sash behind me. My head was dizzy as I twirled around and saw the skirt flare out from my waist. I felt delirious with happiness and felt like a real girl. My dance of delight was suddenly shocked back to reality as I heard a click and the room filled with light. Turning to the doorway in panic, I saw the foster mother standing there with an angry look.

”What do you think you’re doing in that dress?”, she snapped. I burst into tears as I said, “I just wanted to see what it felt like.” She quickly grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to untie the sash. All I could think of was wishing I could turn the clock back to before I had gotten out of bed. Putting the dress back in the cabinet, she took my hand and pulled me back upstairs. Just as we passed her daughter’s room, she let go and told me to wait there. I was shaking wildly now as she disappeared in the bedroom.

It was only minutes before she returned and told me since I wanted to see what it felt like to be a girl, she was going to help. At that, she held up one of her daughter’s night gowns. She ordered me to remove my t-shirt and then slipped the gown over my head. I burst into fresh tears as I tried to step back only to feel her slap my leg while telling me to stand still. My body shivered as the soft nylon slid down and fell into place. “Little girls don’t wear dresses to bed. This is what they wear.”, she announced as she adjusted it and admired how it looked on me.

Again taking my hand, she directed me back to my bedroom where the other boys were sleeping. Waking them up, she introduced me as Nancy, a new boarder who will be visiting for awhile. Though half asleep, they stared at my garment and started to laugh. “Alright now. Settle down. You’ll all get plenty of time to get acquainted in the morning.” She then told me to get to bed and not to get up again until she says I can. She then turned out the light and left me to the boys teasing and giggles until they finally went back to sleep.

I woke the next morning to the other boys laughter as they gathered around my bed and started tugging at my blanket. “Let’s see your pretty Jamie’s.”, tormented the oldest boy as he pulled my blanket away. I quickly grabbed the hem of the gown and tried to cover myself. “Is our little sissy wearing panties too?”, he chimed as he pulled my hands away and lifted the gown to expose my regular underpants. “Aw! You’re not suppose to be wearing boy’s underwear. Little sissies should be wearing panties.” His words brought a round of laughter as I reclaimed my blanket while crying uncontrollably.

The laughter brought the foster mother and she ordered everyone down stairs for breakfast. I just laid there frozen with fear as she approached my bed. “You stay right there and I’ll be back in a minute.” I watched nervously as she left while growing fearful of what she was going to do. I didn’t have to wait long as she entered and I saw what she had planned for me. I immediately burst into tears as I saw her arms filled with some of her daughter’s clothes.

”Alright, stand up so I can get you dressed.”, she ordered sternly. Though I begged forgiveness she was determined as she repeated her demand with threats of a spanking if I disobeyed. “You wanted to see what it feels like to be a girl and that’s just what’s going to happen. Now get undressed.” I could hardly obey as my hands shook while removing the gown. "Get your underpants off too.", she snapped. I was really shaking now as I stepped out of my underpants. “Now step into these.”, she directed as she held out a pair of white cotton panties. My eyes filled with tears as I stared at the panties and guided my foot into them. My whole body felt numb as she slid them up my legs and into place.

Grabbing another item from the bed, she slipped a camisole over my head and pulled it down. I looked down and saw it was trimmed in lace and had a small bow at the neck. My head was reeling now as I stared at the next item she was retrieving from the stack. “Oh, Please No!”, I cried as she held up a very girlish yellow dress with several layers of ruffles around the full skirt. “My daughter wouldn’t wear this, saying it was too childish looking but I thought it was adorable. I think you'll look really cute in it.”, she chuckled. It was obvious she was enjoying my debasement.

Next came another skirt only this one was much fuller and all white. I stared at the shinny, pastel colored silk ribbons that ran around the skirt. “Lift your foot and step in.”, she directed as I helplessly obeyed. I was both humiliated at being dressed as a girl and yet secretly fascinated by it as well. With each piece of clothing, I felt a part of me was also being replaced. The petticoats made my skirt stand out and it felt foreign to my senses as she reached under the dress to adjust it. “Get yourself up on the bed so I can put your socks on.”

I nearly fell down as I struggled to sit down on the edge of the bed wearing such billowing skirts. I couldn’t see my feet as I felt her slipping some socks on them. I tried to push the skirt down just long enough to see the lace trimmed ankles. “We’ll have to use your own shoes as I don’t have any others that will fit you.”, she stated as she slipped them on and tied them. Her voice seemed gentler now that I had become more docile. Standing me up, she stepped back as though to admire her work. Though I felt really strange, I also felt as though I’d actually been changed into a real girl.

Leading me down the hallway, she took me into her daughter’s room and I watched as she retrieved some yellow hair ribbons. Brushing my hair out, she clipped a bow on each sides of my head. “There! Now you look really sweet. How does it feel to be dressed like a girl?”, she asked more as a statement than a question. I felt both embarrassed and yet oddly excited. I loved feeling colorful and pretty though it felt somewhat like wearing a costume. My thoughts were short lived however when she told me it was time to show the other children what a pretty little girl I was. That’s when the reality of my transition returned and I begged her not to have them see me.

”Non-sense! You wanted to see how it felt to be a girl and so you shall. Now come with me.” Her words cut into my very soul as she pulled me into the hall and guided me down stairs. I never realized how cumbersome full skirts were as I blindly lowered each foot in hopes I didn’t fall. My heart was racing now as she lead me into the kitchen where everyone was just finishing eating. The roar of laughter was deafening as I burst into humiliated tears. “You all say ‘Good Morning’ to our new boarder.”, she ordered as they responded. “Good Morning, Nancy.”, giggling with delight.

My legs felt like rubber as I stood devastated with embarrassment and humiliation. Her daughter was the only one who didn’t laugh though she grinned with delight at my transformation. Pulling my usual chair out, her mother told me to sit down while she got my breakfast. I felt a million eyes were upon me as I stared down at the table. Though my clothes felt strange, the softness seemed to calm me somewhat as I tried to tune out the others stares. With my eyes down, I stared at the skirts flowing from my waist and felt a strange peacefulness. The fact that I was really dressed like a girl brought a sense of peace I can’t quite explain. All I knew was this feeling was somehow a part of who I was inside and I knew I'd want to experience it again throughout my life.

Everyone went outside to play while I finished eating. “You can join the others until lunch.”, she announced as she gathered the dirty dishes. “Please can I stay inside?”, I pleaded in a fearful tone. “You wanted to see what it felt like to be a girl and you can't do that by staying by yourself. Now get outside and play until you're called back inside.” As I dreadfully walked to the back door, I again realized how cumbersome my skirts were. They were so full, they had to be tucked in to get through the door. I felt like a big cotton ball as I stepped onto the back porch. The rest of the morning was filled with teasing and name calling but as they settled down, I again reflected on the wonderment of my feminine clothes.

As I sat on the back steps and watched them running and playing ball, I realized being in such fancy clothes is restrictive and limits the freedom of movement I’d been use too. Brushing my skirts out, I kind of wished for my old clothes back. I thought how nice it would be to be able to spend some time in each style. Girls can wear dresses and pants too. I pondered why boys didn’t also have the freedom of choice like girls do. Standing up, I walked towards the others and asked if I could play ball too. I was surprised when they said I could and seemed to accept how I was dressed. The rest of the morning was the happiest I’ve ever experience and I often reflect back and miss it.

After supper, I was helped back into my own clothes and asked how I liked being a girl for the day. I was too embarrassed to admit the truth as I told her, “I didn’t like it.” But secretly, I often wished for another magical day dressed as a girl. So now I don’t know if my punishment really counts as a punishment. It was forced on me but I really loved being dressed as a girl and experiencing the soft, swishy petticoats brushing against my legs when I walked. I felt like a princess for a day and often take a magical trip back in time to remember how it felt to be a girl all decked out in ribbons and lace. Ahhhh! Be still my beating heart.

Pricella


Thank you for your letter Pricella. Many young boys are fascinated by girl's clothing, the pretty colors, the wide variety of items and the often silky fabrics, your curiosity is perfectly understandable and really quite brave of you to explore your feelings and her clothing. I do feel that your foster mother rather than stop you made the decision to petticoat you instead, punishment? I am not convinced it was, at least not in the usual sense though it probably felt like it to you at the time.

Auntie Helga

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