from Sissymaid Gracie

Dear Auntie Helga,

I was in high school here on Portree Scotland. My cousin Robert and I were subjected to being labeled the class sissy for all four years we were in secondary school. I think my Auntie McLeod would have rathered it was her son, my cousin Robert who held that distinction, however given he was so popular it befell on me instead. Not that his mother didn't try, for as you know many were the days she sent the two of us to school in various degrees of sissified splendor.

Well I remember the shame of walking to school attired in bodice kilts and lace befrilled blouses, which typically only girls or prissy adolescent boys wore, made all the more effeminate by the pettislips that puffed them out, or even worse the days she would send us to church or school attired in complete little miss attire. Typically some short frilly party style frock, held out horizontally by the layers of petticoats underneath it, which didn't require us to curtsy in order for the rumba style kickers she'd slide up our legs to show forth with each mincing step we'd take.

Not that we didn't want to strut and stride like the rest of the guys and the men we saw ourselves as, however the tawse across our thighs, which she would supply if we did not conduct ourselves in the petticoat disciplined manner she desired, left us more than anxious to conduct ourselves as girlishly as she required. I can still remember the shame of being surrounded by my fellow classmates and having them lift up my skirts to make fun of the frilly knickers Auntie would send us off in.

Not that they really needed to flick up Robert or my own skirts, given we often showed them off ourselves performing the curtsies she would insist we proffer others as part of our punishment when she determined that corrective behavior to the tune of humiliating attire was in order. I think one of the most trying things for myself was when I would have to go to the bathroom, for as you know in those days a sissy did not have the option of using the girl's loo. To wit every time I found myself in there it was like an open invitation to be picked on, or sometimes even worse if there were several of the senior boys in there, as they were not above making me get on my knees sometimes. I will not go into details, however as you can well imagine it could be quite humiliating, not to mention garnering me a reputation as a pansy that none of my athletic prowess could put behind me. It didn't matter if it was younger classmates in there either, for as late as the age of seventeen in my final senior year, many of the fourteen year old members of the freshman class when gathered in groups of three or more would feel emboldened to pick on me.

You cannot believe the shame of being made to humble oneself by bending the knee to such a group of mean spirited ruffians that the Scottish macho mindset instilled in the males of our society, albeit some of the girls could be just as demeaning when they set their minds to it. Albeit by my senior year, on the days I was so attired, I did not need to be told to present myself in a skirt raised manner when a crowd gathered around me, for it had become second nature to do so rather than to risk having a mocking group spanking added to my humiliation. As for my fear of being caught in the bathroom I actually got to the point where I would try to hold my need to pee for a good portion of the day until I could go home, however as you might imagine there were days I wound up partially wetting myself instead before I would finally surrender to the need and run in a skirt swishing sway to a bathroom. A situation that was like blood in the water to the various bullies at the time, for if I thought raising my skirts so they could laugh at my frilly knickers was embarrassing, it was ten times worse when they would see the wet spot.

Not to mention the spanking Auntie would provide as recompense for my failing to conduct myself in a manner befitting our position in local society, for the thought of my besmirching her good name meant more than all the degradation I faced, for she just deemed our humiliation a necessity of 'good-breeding'. To wit she would further add to my punishment the following day by sending me off in one of my very short and billowy little miss frocks replete with a telltale plastic nappy covering over my knickers, typically juvenile ones in pink with animal characters on them.

If I once of us had really earned her ire she at times would add a dummy between the lips to our retribution, which we'd be ordered not to remove unless called upon to answer a question by one of the school masters. And as you may well expect a woman of her position had many a person whom she would call upon to report back to her of our compliance, so there was no trying to hide from any of our punishments, for it would only come back upon us tenfold.

Something that happened several times over my earlier grade years, but thankfully only occurred once in my senior year, albeit that one occasion was enough to solidify enough remembrance in some of my fellow students, that it is still recalled all these years later. At the time I was mortified, however now these many years later I would love to relive those days

Sincerely, Sissy Gracie

Dear Sissy Gracie thank you for sharing a bit of your upbringing in Scotland, the true home of petticoating and your Aunt obviously a severe practitioner a successful one at that. Now, I know many readers will have their doubts about this letter, but let me assure, I know this sissy personally and can attest to the veracity of the story. To be sent to school wearing such feminine and obviously sissy outfits must have been the height of humiliation, it did however assure obedience and you both are better adults for the experience.

Auntie Helga


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