Dear Auntie Helga,
I am writing to PDQ as an avid fan and reader who is delighted to finally have the courage to contribute to this wonderful site. As a small boy growing up in the 1950's I was encouraged to stay inside on weekends to help my single mother clean the house and do chores. At the time I was frustrated by what seemed a restriction but at the same time I was fascinated by my mother's feminine ways and clothing. I remember how excited I would get hearing the sounds of her slips and girdles rubbing against the inside of her dress as she would walk by. She was an attractive and very sexual woman, traits I have envied enough to emulate in my life. Like many curious young boys I would sneak into her room when she was away to submerse myself in her forbidden boudoir. With fevered preadolescent excitement I would try on her panties, girdles, slips and stockings then posing in front of the mirror.
As a young bachelor I loved to stay in my apartment to scrub the floors and do the wash but when I got married I was afraid to speak of my true desires with my soon to be ex-wife. Throughout our marriage she was frustrated by my lack of masculinity but put up with my penchant for housework. She never wore her lingerie for me but must have guessed how it eventually came to be so stretched out. Full of unspoken truth our relationship finally ended badly and back to being single I continued keeping a clean apartment with the blinds drawn, dressed in tight silky lingerie, always very excited.
I am happy to report that I am now partnered with someone who not only understands but also very much appreciates my being such a good sissy housemaid. When we were dating I confessed to cross dressing and my love of cleaning the house. She was far from appalled, in fact she admitted trying to get her first husband to wear her panties. We dated and finally partnered in a match made in heaven and now I am able to enjoy my desires with someone who loves having a sissymaid to keep the house clean.
We both look forward to my scrubbing the house from top to bottom dressed in not much more than a pinafore or something pink, lacy and very short. I admit that I am well paid for my efforts with a regular firm slap on my rump to remind me what a sissy I truly am.
We have a written agreement between us that I was happy to sign and is posted in the bedroom. Not a word needs to be spoken, I just do all of the house chores all of the time and I love it. There are other conditions and terms included in our contract designed to remind me of the submissive sissy we know both know that I am. All of my male underwear has been taken and I am now only allowed to wear panties.
We both have the perfect life as she never really liked to do housework and sissy maids like myself live for it. There is nothing quite like scrubbing the floors and toilets dressed in lacy feminine attire, and only a few can truly understand this pleasure.
Reading PDQ has given me the strength and courage over the years to be who I really am, and we are all so grateful to the late Susan MacDonald and to you Auntie Helga for maintaining this wonderful site. Thank you so much from all of us who dream of one day living the perfect life and writing in to tell others that it is actually possible to find happiness as a sissy.
Thank you for your letter D and for your kind words about me and the site. Many boys discover the pleasures of wearing silky clothing through exploring their mother's wardrobe and often they become loving sissies to dominant wives as you were so fortunate to have done. For those readers still seeking a willing partner, one with an open mind and good heart, take comfort from D's example, they do exist.