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Dear Auntie Helga, When I was ten years old, I was taken to a birthday party being given for the daughter of a friend of my mother. I was dressed in a little suit with short pants and my mother seemed to fuss over my hair, making sure the part was absolutely perfect. I was miserable. I didn't want to go to the party. I wouldn't know anybody there and I made my discontent known to all. That is to say, I was behaved very badly on the way to the party, and upon discovering that out of 12 children, I was one of two boys who had been invited. I went into full brat mode. After about fifteen minutes of my antics, my mother grabbed my hand and pulled me into the house. The hostess followed us and said my mother could take me into her daughter's room. If I had been acting up before, being taken into a little girl's frilly, sissy baby bedroom wasn't going to make me behave any better. My mother sat me on the bed and pulled me across her lap. I screamed in protest but my pleas fell on deaf ears. The hostess spoke up, "A bare bottom spanking would make more of an impression." My mother said she agreed and before I knew it, the two ladies were undressing me. After just a minute, my clothes were in a pile. The hostess, Ms. Powell, picked them up, opened the bedroom door, and carried them somewhere down the hall. Naked and sobbing, my mother once again pulled me across her lap and administered ten hard slaps. When she was done, she stood me in front of her and told me that she was very disappointed in me. I sniffled and rubbed my sore little bottom. Mrs. Powell returned and closed the door. My mother asked where my clothes were and she said, "I have taken the liberty of putting them back in your car. I have an idea, and if you indulge me, I think you will find that you will have a much more behaved little boy on your hands." "I'm all ears," my mother said. "Have you ever heard of petticoat punishment?" "No," my mother replied. "Quite simply, it is the practice of dressing unruly boys as girls to settle down their wild natures." "I see. What do you have in mind?" "Well, Little Frank here has been quite the bad boy. I think we need to dress him in something prettier before he returns to the party. And I have the perfect outfit." When I tried to comment and weigh in on the situation, my mother slapped me on my bottom. Then she took my left thumb and stuck it into my mouth. "You be quiet and suck your thumb." I was shocked. I couldn't believe it. My mother was going to let this strange woman dress me like a girl. Mrs. Powell opened the closet and pulled out a zippered garment bag. Then she opened some drawers and pulled out some clothes. The next thing I knew I was stepping into a pair of pink panties. The panties were thicker than my underwear, and Mrs. Powell explained, "These are actually training panties. Susan was a bed wetter and had bladder control issues. But they fit him like they were made for him and he looks adorable. " "He does," my mother said as she pulled the childish panties up past my belly button. "And if those panties don't do the trick, I'm sure I have some of Susan's old diapers somewhere in the attic. Three or four of those pinned to that little tushie should calm him down." My mother asked, "What's it to be, Frankie? Panties or baby diapers?" "Panties," I said meekly. "Panties what?" "Panties please Mommy." A white vest t-shirt was next and my mother tucked it tightly into my (my?) panties. Little lacy anklets with pink trim were next. Then a stiff little petticoat, and finally, a party dress that was made for a princess, a princess who was 6 years old was pulled down over my head. "This is an old dress of Susan's. I just couldn't part with it. It's small, but it looks like it will fit him. It will be snug, and his pretty little panties will probably show, but that will certainly slow down his running around." The dress was buttoned up the back. It was tight and breathing was hard. She was right. I wouldn't be running around in this little baby dress. The petticoat, which held the dress almost completely out, and the length of the dress, made sure my sissy panties were on full display. I was mortified, but said nothing and stood there sucking my thumb. Finally a large pink bow was pinned to my head and shiny little black shoes were slid onto my feet. A touch of pink lipstick was applied to my pout, and my mother led me out of the bedroom by holding my hand. I felt like such a baby. I was introduced to the other party goers as Little Francine. The little girls at the party exploded with squeals and laughter and for the remainder of the time spent time, I was the plaything. They're own living doll. Susan told everyone that I was wearing diaper panties, and I became the BABY of the party. They gave me a doll's bottle and a teddy bear. They coo-ed at me and made me say 'ga-ga.' They would occasionally lift my dress and check my diaper. I was totally humiliated, but very well-behaved. When we got home that night, and yes, I rode home wearing the outfit, my mother told me that she was going to keep m pretty little dress. She said that she might even buy me some more pretty little things and anytime I misbehaved, she would dress me up. I would like to say that I was a good little boy from that point on, but there were many more adventures of pretty little Francine. I also can't say that several of those adventures weren't all that horrible. Hugs and kisses, Little Francine Thank you for your letter Francine. As you yourself realized, it became a pleasant experience, the softening aspect of this Discipline always works it's wonders. Auntie Helga |