Dear Auntie Helga,

My wife has been reading your website recently, and has told me that I must write to you of my experience in petticoating, some forty years ago. As I have no desire to go through the same experience again, I have agreed to obey her, as I usually do these days.

I was a young man "going places", as we used to say. I had a good job, promotion, and had married well. Our lifestyle was that of a well-off couple, but I managed to spoil it by my own stupid desire to get to the top. I was, to be blunt, a bully, especially towards younger colleagues, and most importantly towards a pair of young women who worked in my section. Matters reached a head when I was so aggressive to one of these women that she dissolved into tears, and even then I did not have the sense to back off. Two days later, on a Friday evening, my wife greeted me when I came home from work, and confronted me with my actions. I tried to defend myself, but she was not to be placated. The young woman concerned had been at school with my wife, and had decided to tell her old friend what an unpleasant person her husband appeared to be. I was presented with an ultimatum: either I submitted to my wife's punishment, or our marriage was finished. I almost walked out, but saw sense at the last moment.

The punishment, which my wife had prepared very carefully, was a form of petticoating. My male clothing had been removed from my wardrobe, apart from suits, shoes and ties. I was ordered to strip, and the rest of my male underwear was taken a way. In its place I had to put on female knickers and vest, with little legs and sleeves, trimmed with lace. Over these, I wore heavy ribbed tights, and a school blouse, which was similar to a man's shirt but buttoned on the opposite side. Over this I was allowed to wear my suit and tie, with ordinary shoes. Worse was to come, as my wife took away my car keys, obliging me to travel to work by bus, and to keep my suit clean and tidy I had to wear a navy blue trench coat of my wife's. (She and I are of similar build). For wet weather I carried a grey plastic raincoat with a hood in my briefcase, and it had to be worn over my trench coat at the first sign of rain. Each morning I reported to the lady whom I had offended, who was very much my junior within the company, to check that I was properly dressed, with my trench coat buttoned up. I realised quickly that the coat was clearly a woman's coat unless it was buttoned to the neck, when the fact that it was buttoned on the "wrong" side was less visible.

At home, I was subjected to further humiliations. I had to remove my suit, shoes and tie, and dress in a school gym slip as a reminder that I was under a learning process. This was particularly galling, as I remembered how much the girls I had been at school with hated them, along with their uniform macs. My wife, I discovered, had three school macs at home, from different schools she had attended, and there was always the threat that I would be sent out in one of these if I failed to comply fully with her orders. Having been made to wear one for a couple of hours at home one evening, I was careful to avoid this level of humiliation.

Fearful of upsetting my wife, I kept to this regime for the better part of a year, with occasional extra humiliations thrown in. One of her favourites was to make me wear a silk scarf tucked into the neck of my trench coat when we were out together, and she would always make sure it was very feminine, either with a prominent flowery pattern, or in a colour such as pink. Either way, it drew attention to the fact that I was wearing a ladies'mac. At work, the discipline meant that I could not visit the toilet in the usual manner but always had to enter a cubicle, undress and sit down. I was conscious that people on the bus could see my coat buttoned the wrong way, especially in summer when a coat was not necessary and therefore drew attention to me. Eventually, I redeemed myself, and was allowed to return to my male attire, and my car keys were returned, to my immense relief.

The outcome? I realised that I had no need to be rude or unpleasant, and continued to treat my colleagues with the respect they deserved. My wife and I resumed a more normal relationship, thought the threat of renewed sanctions kept me in line, and, looking back, this was one of the best things that could have happened to me.

John

Thank you for your letter John. This is a perfect example of the effectiveness of Petticoat Discipline. Even it's short term use can make even the rudest of men learn to behave in a more respectable fashion toward the women in their life. Please pass along our appreciation to your beautiful wife at insisting you write, for her effective use of our principals and as well as for being a regular reader.

Auntie Helga