Letter 3
From Patsy

Dear Susan,

Well another month has arrived and you've done it again, you've produced another fantastic issue. I would like to contribute to your work with my own first experience with petticoat discipline and, unlike my earlier submissions, this event was much more in line with what your magazine is all about. If you will remember, my last entries dealt with some very terrible experiences with diapering at the boarding house I was raised in. Because of these humiliating experiences, I grew up very withdrawn and pretty much a loner. On visits with my mother, I would have a barrage of questions to ask her, mostly about feelings and why people behaved as they did. I never could tell her of my earlier punishments because of intense shame.

You would have to know my mother to understand why she answered my many questions, especially about gender issues, the way she did. For one thing she was abandoned by the man who got her pregnant with me, and so had a low view of men in general. She also adored Shirley Temple movies, and had deeply wanted a little girl most of her life. In comes me - a boy. It's understandable that my questions were always answered with things stating how wonderful little girls were, and how ugly or crude boys were. This, along with my damaged self esteem from humiliating punishments, caused in me a growing envy of girls, and a secret wish to be one. I told you this so you'd understand why the following events evolved as they did.

I must have been around nine years old, and had yearned for several years to have been a pretty girl like my mother wanted. Then one fateful day at the boarding house, I saw the mother put one of her daughters old dresses in a dresser drawer, in the back room off the den. It was a green plaid, with a white bib and trimmings. I thought it was so girlish, with its full skirt and puffy sleeves, that I found myself craving to wear it. I couldn't stop thinking about it long after bedtime, and lay there dreaming of what it would feel like to be a girl wearing a dress. It seemed like hours passed as I plotted to sneak down stairs and try it on after everyone was sound asleep.

Quietly, I tiptoed down to the back room in the dim street lights shinning through the windows. My heart was racing with excitement in anticipation of my becoming a girl wearing this dress. Slowly, I opened the drawer and searched for my prize. Just then my hand felt several silky items, and they felt heavenly. I pulled them out to discover they were girls' panties. My mind went into overdrive at the thought I could really be a girl right down to panties too. I hurriedly removed my underclothes and stepped into the silken panties. The feeling was electrifying and drove my adrenaline wild. I quickly returned to the dresser and after searching another drawer, pulled the dress out and held it up to the window. I could feel the blood warming my face as I looked at my destiny in the glimmering light. Shaking uncontrollably, I struggled to slip the yards of fabric over my head. Then it happened, the magical moment that would change my life forever. When the dress fell into place a strange calm swept over me. A feeling of not only the dress fitting me, but me fitting the dress. This was a reunion with my true self as I felt a peace beyond words. Reaching around behind me, I nervously tied the sash, drawing my waist smaller and more girl like.

Just then the lights came on blinding me as horror wiped my thoughts away like so much angel dust. I twirled around to the door just as the mother asked, 'What are you doing in that dress?', with a tone of anger. I was so scared I could hardly answer, as tears started to flow. 'I was just wanting to see what it was like', I whimpered with building fear. She quickly approached me and turning me around, untied the sash while asking me if I was a sissy boy. I sobbed again that I just wanted to see what it felt like to be a girl. Upon lifting the skirts over my head she stopped in surprise and exclaimed, 'What's this? Panties too!'

At that she returned the dress to the drawer, as I hurriedly tried to remove the panties in an attempt to undo the mess I'd gotten myself into. 'You pull them back up little sissy boy. So you want to see what it feels like to be a little girl, huh? Well you're going to get your chance'. I dared not disobey as I looked down and slowly returned the panties to my waist. When I again looked up, she greeted me with a big smile as she ordered me to follow her upstairs. I nervously stood in the hall as she went into her daughter's room. Moments later she returned and held out one of her daughter's nightgowns. 'Little girls don't sleep in dresses, they wear a nightie to bed', she said sweetly. She then started to slip the gown over my head. I cried with pleas of being sorry, as I stepped back, begging her to stop. She demanded that I stand still or she would have to give little sissy a spanking. I felt somewhat dazed as the gown slithered down over my small frame. 'Now sissy girl, back to bed with you', she ordered as she took my hand and led me to my bedroom. That's when I remembered the other boys were in the bedroom and would see me.

I pulled away in panic as she tightened her hold and demanded I go get back into bed. I couldn't resist her as she shoved me into the darkened room. I was horrified of discovery as I darted for my bed and quickly covered up. No sooner did I get covered when the lights came on. I guess my crying had disturbed the others, because they were all awake and looked puzzled. Terror filled my mind as she told everyone they had a new boarder. 'All right, little sissy, stand up and let everyone meet you', she ordered with a sinister grin. I was mortified as I clutched the blankets tightly around my neck. With one quick swoop, she stripped the covers of safety from me and pulled me to my feet. 'I want you all to meet little Sissy. She's going to visit with us for a while. I want you all to welcome her and make her feel at home'. Everyone stared at me with groggy disbelief. I again burst into tears as I dropped my head in shame. 'All right, you can all get back to sleep now. We'll have time to get acquainted in the morning. You can get back in bed now too, Sissy'. She returned my covers with a gleam of pleasure in her eyes. She then turned the lights out and left, closing the door behind her. I laid there in the dark feeling all sorts of indescribable feelings. I could hear the other boys giggling across the room, but no one said anything to me.

I woke in the morning to find the others had gathered around my bed, and were laughing. As I cleared my eyes I realized they had removed my covers, exposing my gown. I felt a rush of shame as I also discovered the gown had ridden up exposing the fact I was wearing panties. I hurriedly tried to cover myself, though it was too late. 'Isn't Sissy cute in her pretty little panties and nightie?', everyone jeered with laughter. I felt so exposed, as I could do nothing but look away in shame. It wasn't but a few moments before the woman entered, and ordered everyone to settle down and go to breakfast. I just laid there confused as to what I was to do now. I kept hoping I could now have my clothes back and this would all go away like a bad dream.

'You wait right here while I go and get your clothes', she ordered as a feeling of relief settled in. I felt somewhat anxious as I heard her coming down the hallway. The moment my eyes saw the snowy cloud of light, frilly clothes she was carrying, intense fear grabbed my very soul. I screamed, 'Oh! No! Please! I promise I will be good from now on. Please, I'm sorry'. My dismay was well founded for draped across her arms was a complete wardrobe of girls' clothing. My pleas fell on deaf ears as she spread my shame garbs on the bed. These were the fanciest, frilliest clothes I'd ever seen. The dress was a bright yellow drenched in lace trim and ruffles. Each sleeve was trimmed with a satin bow, and another bow adorned the large bib front. I had never seen girls' under garments up so closely before, and they flooded my senses with even more fear. 'Alright little girl, it's time to get dressed', she sang, as though she was enjoying every moment of my predicament. After several more failed pleas, I hopelessly succumbed. One by one, the garments were applied to my quivering body. Each layer brought further shame and passivity, as I was slowly transformed into the girl I had thought I wanted to be for so long. But at that moment I couldn't imagine how I could have ever wished this humiliation upon myself.

As I slowly accepted my fate, a strange feeling of tranquillity also seemed to have taken me over, much like I'd experienced the night before. 'Sit up on the bed', she ordered as she handed me the last items of my transformation, a pair of lace trimmed socks. 'Put these on while I look for your shoes'. I felt very strange as I fought the full skirt and petticoats to see what I was doing. I had never given thought as to how restrictive girls skirts were. I was then handed my own shoes, the only reminder of my male self. 'All right Sissy, lets go show the others what a pretty little girl you are in your new clothes'.

I had forgotten about the others as panic returned with a vengeance. Floods of fear rushed in, as I pleaded not to be seen. Again I was unheard, as she took hold of my hand and pulled me down the hallway. 'Just a moment', she exclaimed as she stopped in front of her daughter's room. 'Don't you dare move', she ordered as she slipped into the room. I was shaking wildly as I anticipated my pending shame before the others, while wondering what she was doing. She quickly returned and threatened to slap me if I didn't stand still while she fastened something in my hair. She seemed to have some difficulty because my hair was rather short, but finally finished.

She then took me into her bedroom and stood me in front of her mirror for a look. 'Doesn't Sissy look pretty in her dress?', she asked with a slight giggle in her voice. That's when I saw the large yellow ribbon she had fastened to my hair. A strange intoxicating rush swept over me as I starred in disbelief at my reflection. I was actually pretty, and did look just like a little girl even with my short hair. My daze was broken when she again took my hand and lead me down to breakfast. It felt so strange as I looked down at the stairs and saw my billowing skirts bouncing with each step. Feelings of shame returned as I was firmly pulled into the others' view. My face felt on fire as I hung my head and stared at the floor. Every ones laughter seemed distant as I detached myself from the moment. It all seemed like a dream that I would awaken from at any moment. 'Children, This is Sissy, and she is going to spend the day with us. I want you all to be nice to her and make her feel at home'. I was then told to join the others and sit at the table. The daughter looked amazed as she started to join the others in their giggling.

Time seemed to stand still as I cowered over my food still in a trance-like state. I don't think I ever did look up at the others the whole time we ate. I was kept dressed the whole day, and even sent outside to play with the others, though I fought to stay inside. A couple of hard swats on my rear quickly subdued any resistance I had. The first couple of hours were extremely humiliating as the boys kept calling me a sissy, while flipping my skirts with attempts to see what I wore underneath.

As the day drew on they simmered down, and actually started to seem curious as to how it felt to be dressed as a girl. I never did answer any of their questions as I tried to keep it to myself. The strange thing I remember most about that day was how I actually started to really like being all dressed up. Once the laughter quieted down, I liked being a girl and felt really pretty. Later that evening, I got to spend some time playing with the daughter in her room. We boys were never allowed in there, and so it only made me feel even more like I was a real girl. I secretly hated giving up my beautiful clothes when it was bedtime, but had to act relieved in front of the others. The next few weeks were filled with sissy remarks and ribbings, but I didn't mind too much, as it kept the reality of my experience alive a little longer. My dreams were filled with images of that day for many years, until I had the freedom to again dress up on my own, and again be the sweet little girl of my dreams.

Well, that's it, that's my one an only experience with petticoat discipline. I have many times since wished it would have happened again, but it never did. Again thanks, and I hope my letter isn't too long to post. I only wanted to share the experience in detail so others could enjoy each moment as I did.


Sometimes I receive a letter which describes particularly well the paradoxical thrills and comforts of petticoats and pretty undies, as well as the exquisite embarrassment of being displayed in them to others. This letter is a classic description of petticoat discipline with all its enticing torments, and I am very pleased to publish it in 'Petticoat Discipline Monthly'.

Return to Index
Letter 4