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Dear Auntie Helga, The other day while my son Terry was attending his university classes I was a bit nosy and checked his computer. I accidentally came across your homepage as it was in his favorites. I'm sure he would be most embarrassed if he knew I was writing this letter to you. But you see I've never seen him dress up, or try some of my things so I wonder why he's interested in this subject. But after reading some testimonies from other mothers who resorted to petticoat discipline and its effects on their young sons, I have my little idea about it. Which is why I decided to tell you about my experience with petticoat discipline, although It didn't come naturally. I've had to take care of Terry alone since he was ten, following a divorce. Being a career woman I must admit I haven't done well, having been very lenient in keeping him under control. He was almost 15 at the time I realized his behavior was just intolerable. After reaching puberty he became very rude and insulting, and most of all too big for his shoes. He was quite small for his age, which made him nervous and all the more arrogant towards girls in general. One day we had a strong argument and he almost raised his hand on me, so I decided to take matters into hand. As I was on my own, I followed the advice of a co-worker who suggested I find a lady au pair to help me out with the housework and keep Terry in line. As I expected I had much difficulty finding the right lady because already in his teens and his terrible behavior. But luckily I met with Britta, a 26 year old German girl who wanted to relocate in our town. She was exactly what I was looking for, a healthy, tall and strongly built girl. She was a former university water polo champion, stern looking but friendly, and most of all motivated. I settled Britta in our guest room right next to Terry's. As I expected those two took an instant dislike at each other, but at least I wasn't alone anymore. Terry was getting more rambunctious and wild when not at school, but he was quite shy outside, and very self-conscious with strangers or kids his own age. As he continued to show no respect for us and generally making Britta's life around the house miserable, I seriously discussed his behavior with her one night. That's when she first mentioned petticoating to me. She told me how her mother and herself had effectively used it on her younger brother. I was skeptical about it since Terry wasn't a kid anymore, but what other choices did we have ? Being at my wit's end I didn't oppose since no forms of punishment had worked so far. Holding a Tupperware party once a month some neighborhood mothers I mentioned my intentions in order to seek approval, and was glad to have four of them support me. They all new too well how difficult Terry was and they convinced me to go all the way with him, although none of them had any experience in petticoat discipline. One lady who had dress-making experience offered to help since I didn't have a clue what outfit to pick. It had to be something very feminine and unique Britta advised rightfully, something a girl wouldn't have dared to wear at that time. We picked up an old square dance catalog I had and we selected a beautiful one piece short sleeve pink and black polka dot dress, with a sparkle satin sash and bow. I gave her his measurements and paid for expenses. Two weeks later she brought us the complete outfit. It was absolutely gorgeous, with lots of ruffled lace, and buttoning up the back. We also agreed on a pair of low heel pink open toed sandals which perfectly matched the dress and to top it off, a pair of pink silk panties with white matching polka dots. I told the mothers we were going to dress him up on Sunday morning and keep him like that for a whole day to see what would come out of it. The mothers insisted on dropping by so I invited all of them for tea in the afternoon. The following Sunday Britta and I came in early in Terry's bedroom. As he likes sleeping in he was moody. He immediately sensed something unusual, and when he saw me drape the dress over the arm chair and heard he was going to be dressed as a girl for the whole day, he literally burst into fits of anger. As I expected he gave Britta quite a hard time but she managed to handle him, and it wasn't long before she stripped him of his pajamas and led him straight to the bathroom for a cold shower. When she came back holding Terry by the hand my dear son was trembling in tears. At the sight of the pleading look on his face when I handed him the lacy panties, I could sense this was beginning to have some serious effect. I must admit I was quite surprised myself about the fearfulness of his reaction, which reinforced my determination. Thanks to Britta we managed to get him in his outfit despite several attempts at wriggling free. We then carefully buttoned his dress at the back and adjusted the sash and bow. I must admit he was kind of cute despite his short hair. Something was missing Britta said, coming back with a long pink curly ribbon bow barrette that she attached on the top of his head, making him sob all the more. After breakfast Britta instructed him to some cleaning chores and housework until we had lunch. He spent the day unusually quiet and fully cooperative, that is until teatime and the arrival of our lady guests. I had completely forgotten to tell poor Terry about it. He panicked at the idea of being exposed to strangers but I told him that the dress had been made by one of the ladies, who had insisted on seeing how it looked. Britta kept a strong grip on his harm and made sure he stayed with us. As the weather was hot we decided to have tea in the veranda. It was amusing to see Terry keep his head down the whole time, sitting next to me, clutching at my dress, blushing each time he heard teasing compliments from the joyful mothers. He sure had lost his tongue and attitude. We could a last enjoy a quiet and pleasant Sunday afternoon. Well, that didn't last unfortunately. We heard the bell ring so Britta went to answer the door. A minute later half a dozen girls poured into the veranda at Terry's dismay. One of the mothers had slipped the message to her daughter who in turn, had called her neighborhood friends up to pay us an unexpected visit. I knew most of the girls so I let them stay as long as they behaved. Well you can imagine how distressed my poor boy became in front of that wicked bunch, pointing and snickering at him. I felt pity for him and was about to let him go back to his bedroom, but they got him so worked up that he flew in another rage of anger, darting across the veranda, fleeing in panic, and ran across the garden trying to escape their presence. Of course the jeering bunch, most of them girls his age went after him, chasing him around the garden. I was worried but the mothers suggested we let them play outside and finish tea in a more peaceful atmosphere. I must say it was a sight seeing Terry running scared in his satin dress and delicate sandals chased by half a dozen girls in jeans and sneakers. as soon as we finished I asked Britta to check on Terry and see if everything was ok. As she came back in the veranda holding Terry in her arms I saw my poor son crying like a baby. His face was a mess, all smeared with lipstick, and his fingernails and toenails had been done. I could see he also had pinch marks on his bare legs. I wasn't too happy with how they treated my son so I decided to end thing there and kissed everyone goodbye, while Britta carried Terry to his bedroom. I felt sorry for Terry since I wasn't accustomed to seeing him cry like that, but at the same time I could only agree to the full benefit of the experience. I stayed with him all evening in his room that day. He cried a lot and swore he would be good from now on, and told me how much he loved his mother. I must admit from that day on, Terry's behavior changed dramatically. He became a loving son, very respectful and helpful around the house, always caring for his mother. During the first couple of months he was teased a lot by the neighborhood kids who were all aware of his petticoating day, so he sought protection from me and stayed home much of the time. That also made us closer, as we spent more time together. Hence I gave him more affection and tenderness and have been fully satisfied with him ever since. I kept the dress in his closet for good measure but never had to force him into it again. He also got along perfectly with Britta and was sad when she left us a year later. Terry's now 23 and still living with me as he's finishing university. I do hope he finds a good-loving and caring wife who can fully appreciate him. He's still very shy and bashful so I don't know how he'll react when he reads this letter, but I sure intend to confront him about his sudden interest in your website. Sincerely yours, Brenda. Thank you so much Brenda for writing of your experiences with your son. I do find it interesting that he visits the website, I suspect he must enjoy it and may well like to relive the experience. Auntie Helga |