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Childhood memories of pettiocating
Tell us your childhood memories of being made to dress as a girl, in just one line. I’ll go first:

The feeling of vulnerability, wearing a skirt or dress and knowing how easy it is for my knickers to be exposed, whether by accident or for a spanking.
The embarrassment of being made to flounce about in a prissy dress.
Mother was never nicer to me -- never more affectionate and approving -- than when she had persuaded me to dress and act like a pretty girl.
(05-01-2021, 09:45 PM)Ali Wrote: Tell us your childhood memories of being made to dress as a girl, in just one line. I’ll go first:

The feeling of vulnerability, wearing a skirt or dress and knowing how easy it is for my knickers to be exposed, whether by accident or for a spanking.


I was never made to dress as a girl, more's the pity, I dressed by choice in my sister's clothes, and yes I loved it!

Love and curtseys

I was 8 when a neighbour complimented my Mom for having a so nice, polite and pretty girl. it's a boy she answered. I felt so humiliated!
I was 15 and my step sister was 8, the builders thought I was the girl. My dad thought that was hilarious.
I was never petticoated so I've nothing to report.
In preparation for the womanless pageant, having my mother set my long hair in rollers while the boys around me were having wigs put on their head.
I was never petticoated although I longed to be. From the ages of 6 through about 8, my aunty used to catch me dressing up in her undies all the time.  She threatened to dress me completely as a little girl.  However, she never carried out her threat.  I used to fantasize about being dressed as a little girl by my aunt.  Oh how I wished she would have done it.  I got caught deliberately a couple of times nut she didn't act on her threat.
I was about to say that I was never petticoated as a child...but then I realized all of sudden that I actually sort of had been during my early childhood; 0-6 years old.

So, I was an unplanned pregnancy. My parents met at a bar in Kalispell, Montana like three decades ago, they were both drunk, and dad proposed to her that very night. Mom said no, but they ended up going out and eventually getting married anyway after my dad dragged her away to the middle of Alaska for a fun adventure before finding a place to settle down. Mom never really wanted to leave her home behind though. About a year passes before they finally settle down in a small village about a 200 mile round trip south of Fairbanks, (dead center of Alaska). Mom became pregnant with my sister one August, then a few years later when she was 42 she had me. I was extremely malnourished and jaundiced when I was born; doctors were afraid I wasn't gonna make it. Mom did drugs and alcohol all throughout the pregnancy. She gave it all up when I was about a year old. I had to be bottle-fed all throughout infancy as well, as mom's breasts had stopped producing milk after my sister finished her breastfeeding stage.

So, before I was born, mom and dad weren't expecting another kid because a doctor had told mom she couldn't have kids anymore. When I came along, they hadn't been prepared for a baby boy, and were already living in poverty as it was, so they decided to just dress me in my sister's old baby clothes. One night, a wildfire erupted in the forest outside Ft. Greely Missile Defense Base; one of the most heavily guarded facilities in the country, and, allegedly, our last line of defense against the North Koreans. Our village was eight miles north of there, and the surrounding area was littered with buried munitions and toxic waste dumping in various creeks and ponds. Lot of people got radiation sickness and cancer from it. When the fire erupted, our village was immediately evacuated, as winds were blowing the forty foot wall of fire directly towards the village.

I remember that night pretty vividly because it was such and alien experience to me at the time. Everything was tinted orange outside, and my eyes stung and everything smelled funny; it look really really foggy outside too. I was probably around 3 years old at the time. Mom came into my bedroom real late and woke me up. "Hey...Wanna go to camp?" she asked in a strange tone of voice. As I groggily sat up and rubbed my eyes, I nodded yes; I loved camp. Dad had purchased some land fifty miles away from our village that we had built a small cabin and a boat dock on. It was about 40 miles south along the highway, then about five miles north along the Tannana River, then another 5 miles by creek, into a giant body of water called George Lake lol; our home away from home.....little did I know at the time that we weren't just going on a camping trip this time; we were never coming back. We lived out at the lake for years, finally deciding to return to the world when I was about 6 years old.

All the while, I was still wearing my big sisters hand-me-down clothes, so for the first years of my life I was kept in girls clothing, albeit fairly unisex girl's clothing lol.

It was never a matter of my parents wanting to discipline me though, or that I somehow innately knew I was trans lol. It was a much more simple matter of, "We're-just-too-fucking-poor-to-buy-new-clothes." lmao.

So yeahhhh.....white privilege MY ASS lol.  Tongue

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