from Brianna

Dear Auntie Helga,

Hello my name is Brandon, I've been a fan of your site for some time now and I feel comfortable enough to share my own story of my unintentional petticoating at the hands of my now fiancé and mistress. It all started out innocent enough but eventually grew into something much more.

When I was 17 I began dating a girl named Emily, who was friends with my best friend's girlfriend. We met almost by chance one night when she had come to visit Evan, my friend with Amanda, his than girlfriend. We immediately hit it off and were dating within a week. As time went on we became intimate with one another and this is where I believe my fascination with women's clothing began. I always used to compliment and admire her softer, women's underwear and one day when she was spending the night at my house I realized I was out of clean underwear as laundry was done the next day. Almost jokingly she suggested that I wear the extra pair of underwear she had brought with rather than my day old dirty ones. I thought about it for a while and before bed decided to take her up on her offer. The panties were black lace, with pink frill around the waist and legs and as soon as I put them on I was in heaven! I commented on how comfortable they were which seemed to please her but, at the time I would never admit how much I really enjoyed wearing them. I wore them for the rest of the night and to bed, but unfortunately had to give them back the next day when I was set to take her home. Little did I know that the urge to be petticoated by her had been planted in my head. Later in our relationship she informed me that she didn't enjoy the scratchy feel of my pubic hair during sex and said I should shave it. After some minor resistance I did, and realized I loved how it felt to be shaven 'down there', and how happy it made her. From than on I was more than willing to do almost anything she asked of me because more often than not I enjoyed the outcome as much as she did.

After many years of dating and surviving 4 years together at separate colleges, we decided to move in with one another. Over the course of those 4 years I had already become accustomed to being subservient to her which seemed to please both of us. Most of my teenage life I was raised by my mother who worked a full time job as a waitress, while my father was an over the road truck driver, home for only a few days a month, and had to rely on myself for most things. So I loved the opportunity for someone else to be in control for a change. I would do anything she asked of me and was delighted when I was given the opportunity to please her and the praise that followed. I don't believe at the time she planned to bring upon this change in me but she was more than happy to oblige me. One night in our apartment, she once again after many years without mentioning it, suggested that I wear her panties even though I had clean ones of my own to wear, but always aiming to please her I agreed and placed myself into the soft satin undergarments. This time though I was more than happy to comment on how I loved the feeling and preferred them to my constricting cotton boxers. She decided that the next day we would go to the store and buy me my own women's panties and would throw out all of my old men's underclothes, a decision I was more than happy to follow through with. After going through several choices I picked out a weeks worth of soft silky underwear for me to wear all the time from then on, and did so by choice rather than her suggestion. She loved to see me in them and always told me how cute I looked in them, which pleased me immensely.

It wasn't long before she started trying to get me to wear other women's clothing of her's when we were alone. It started off when she commented on how cute I would look in a skirt. I agreed and being of similar body types I tried on one of her mini-skirts and wore it all that day. It felt so freeing to me and oddly felt almost natural to be wearing a free moving skirt rather than the tight denim jeans I was used to. Before long I was wearing her blouses, emo-scene corsets (which were some of my favorite things to wear), dress skirts and anything else she thought I should try around the house, as always no matter what I was wearing she complimented and praised how I looked. If I had the day off from work, I would dress as a girl all day in an outfit she had laid out for me at the start of each day, and if I had to work at the office, would immediately change into them as soon as I returned home from work that day. It was also at this time I began to address her as 'mistress' and 'ma'am' during casual conversation which she seemed to love.

It wasn't much longer before we had purchased an entire female wardrobe for me that I loved wearing everyday, even though she still picked out my outfit each morning. We also started to experiment with applying light make up to me on my days off which both fascinated me and pleased her very much. I was completely submissive to her by now and was completely happy being set in my subservient ways, whenever in her presence. I would pamper her and treat her like a goddess within our home and would always act polite and courteous towards her when out in public. Than the fateful night came that cemented my change forever. My mistress had been offered a job in a new city and we would soon be moving to a new place where we knew almost no one. The night before we left she sat me down and gave me an ultimatum, I was either to choose women's clothing or men's and would only be given one type. I would either start my life off in this new place as a women, or a man. I thought about it all night and when asked for my decision I chose life as a women. My mistress was overjoyed at my choice and told me she loved me and that she would make my transition as smooth as possible and that, if possible, no one would ever know my true gender.

Ever since than I have never been happier! Me and my mistress are very happy together and soon hope to be married when we are financially able to. I work a full time job, going to work everyday in women's clothing, with full make-up and body waxing. To my friends and co-workers I am known as Breanna, my mistress's chosen name for me and everything is going great. While petticoating may not be for everyone it certainly was for me and I'd never change a thing. I've never been happier as my mistress's servant and lover than I ever could have been as a boy.

(P.S. sorry for any careless spelling mistakes you might happen to find, mistress always says I should work on my proof-reading when I'm typing)

Thank you for your letter Breanna. Your letter is another fine example of what can be accomplished in a relationship where honesty can lead to real happiness. We'd love to hear from you again.

Auntie Helga

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