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Dear Auntie Helga, My aunt was interested to read about that man called Rainer in Germany who was kept in short trousers by his parents. She has insisted that I write to you about my treatment to make sure I remain an obedient and submissive boy. I was 17 when my parents sent me to live with a very strict aunt in Bavaria. She took me in hand and soon I discovered that I was totally under her control. She made it very clear to me that she thought boys were inferior beings and so very immature and that it would be a long time before I would earn the right to wear adult male clothes. I had been very behind at school and she enrolled me in a remedial school for backward boys. I was allowed no privacy and though I was over 6 foot she treated me like a little boy. The first thing she did was to remove all my public hair and this was a terrible humiliation and embarrassment. She had my hair cut in the style of a little boy and then she introduced me to my new clothes. I was to wear short-sleeved shirts and incredibly juvenile short lederhosen. But first she decided that she would curtail any sexual activity and she fitted me with a chastity device and locked it onto my genitals. I am very well endowed but this ensured that my crotch bulge would be reduced, making me look like a little boy. I was made to wear very short, tight shiny black lederhosen with juvenile braces or a halter. They had little turn-ups and an inside leg measurement of only 1". There was a front flap with two zips and she had the waistband altered so that the zips could be locked so I couldn't remove the shorts. I could not believe what I was being made to wear. She adjusted the braces so that the seat of the leather shorts rode up, separating my cheeks, and it was possible to see the outline of my retrained genitals at the crotch. She then further humiliated me by making me wear short socks with boyish T-strap sandals. In the mirror I looked like a grotesque overgrown little boy with long bare legs and thighs. I was sent to this awful school which was run by strict women who made sure we received the maximum humiliation. Most of the boys were confined to shorts but mine seemed the most juvenile. When I had to go to the toilet the teacher would accompany me and unlock my short lederhosen and unzip my flap and then supervise. I could not use a urinal as my genitals were locked into the device so I had to sit on the toilet to pee, with the door open. We were made to play juvenile games in the school yard. I soon discovered that I would have to spend five years at this special school and I would be at least 22 by the time I left. At home my aunt treated me like a little boy and she gave me a supervised bath every few days. Once a week she unlocked my chastity device in order to lean under my foreskin and I always got an erection and she would make fun of me. She had a friend who had two daughters aged 12 and 13 and she would invite them over to babysit me and she paid attention to have them there so they could help with the cleaning of my penis. They would make terrible fun of me and go into hoots of laughter when I had an erection. My aunt considered me so juvenile she had a high chair specially made and I had to sit in it to be fed like a baby. Usually by others and she would take photos for distribution to her friends. I had to use a dribbling bib and a dummy. But even that was not enough and by the time I was 19 she decided that it was more practical to put me back into nappies. I begged her not to but she said I had no choice in the matter and she informed me that I would be in nappies and plastic pants full-time. Now I was given a red rubber sheet to sleep on and I had to lie naked on this while she rubbed nappy rash creams on my genitals and between my legs. Then baby powder and then she would put on a heave duty disposable nappy which was sometimes difficult due to my erections. By then she had decided to remove my chastity device and allow me wank in my nappy. I had to wear side snap plastic pants and I was allowed a maximum of two nappies per day. Being in nappies created a problem out of doors as my short lederhosen did not fit over them so she came up with another solution. A kilt. She got the local tailor to make some Scottish style kilts for me but insisted that they should be very short to allow the air at my thighs. I begged her no but she just laughed. I remember the first kilt a few days after going back into nappies. When it was on it made me so self-conscious and, while it covered my nappy, it certainly did not when I sat down. It rode up to show quite clearly that I was wearing a nappy and this always gave me an erection so that I had the added humiliation of sporting quite a crotch bulge. My aunt would comment to her guests about how I was excited by nappies and pull up the kilt to reveal my tented plastic pants. This was to show how older boys became excited being treated and dressed like babies. She always made sure that there were girls around when it was time to change my nappy and they would help and have great fun watching such a big boy having his nappy changed. In my 20s I found this very hard to bear although by then I was reduced to being a very submissive lad. The two girls would insist that I go camping with them in the girl guides and I was made to wear a girl guide uniform and when we went hiking they would make sure to draw attention to me by making sure my nappy was visible beneath my short uniform. It was so humiliating being with a group of 12 and 13 year old girls and being taken for a girl although I was so much taller. They used have great fun telling others that I was just a sissy boy and they took great delight in exposing my nappy especially if it was wet. When I was 21 the daughter of a femdom friend of my aunt's was getting married. Her 24 year old husband-to-be was well under her thumb by then and she decided that she wanted a wedding which celebrated the dominance of women and the immaturity and submissiveness of men. It was a small wedding. The groom was dressed in a short pants suit with grey kneesocks. He was locked into a chastity device and in the ceremony his mother symbolically handed over the key to the bride. The best man was dressed like a little boy in very short navy corduroy shorts and at the reception he had to go around to meet the guests with his mother holding his hand. At one stage he did something bold and his mother pulled him over her knee and spanked him in front of the other guests, almost all of whom were women. I was chosen to be the page. It was so humiliating. As it was going to be a long day I was put into an extra large nappy and plastic pants. I was allowed to wear shorts like the best man but mine were very juvenile. They were very short pull-on elasticated corduroy shorts which hardly contained my large nappy and all the women laughed as I waddled up the aisle with my bulging crotch. Later on at the reception all the speeches were given by women and focused on the humiliation and ridicule of boys and men and how to ensure male obedience. By then I had a full nappy and someone said I needed a change and the highlight was my public changing by the best man who got a very embarrassing erection in his shorts. One of the women took my shorts and I had to go around for the remainder of the time in just my nappy. The best man's mother thought that I looked so cute in my nappy that she decided that her son would be put back into nappies that very day. He was furious. But soon I was back into wearing a short kilt again as my aunt thought it a much more practical garment for an older boy still in nappies and plastic pants. The boys in my school really ridiculed me for being made to wear and use nappies and they used to refer to my kilt as a girls skirt. They felt so superior in short pants! Needless to say by the time my special schooling was complete I was a well-behaved obedient boy and my aunt found other ways to humiliate me. Little Boy Graham, now 28. Thank you for your letter Graham. Your wonderful Aunt obviously understands that proper upbringing includes Petticoat Discipline and is doing you a great favor. I'm sure our readers would love to hear her side of things. Auntie Helga |