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Dear Auntie Helga, Having been an avid reader of your site for some time I stumbled across an older article in which the writer wondered if petticoating ever takes place in the office? In the early 90's I worked for a well known Beverage and Spirits supplier in West Sussex, I was there for several years and worked as a data input assistant. Frequently we would play host to groups of work experience children from the local schools, usually they would stay with us for around 5 weeks before returning to their final year at school. One summer there was an unusual case of a 4th year boy from the local all boys school (The town is quite old fashioned in that it has separate sex secondary schools) he had completed a much shorter work experiance term at another company and needed to find another placement for the remaining 3 weeks, our firm accepted him and he started work the following day. Owing to the fact all the more exciting roles were already taken, he was assigned to our department to spend his time inputting data from the daily work sheets. (Something I'm sure made him vow to work hard at school!) Our small team consisted of a mixture of part time, working mums and a few full time women looking to make a start in their careers - we were under the supervision of our office manger, Helen a lively woman in her 30's. Towards the end of Daniels first week Helen had a dry cleaning order delivered to the office - nothing special, it was just a night dress and some french knickers in cream. They were left in their bag on the coat stand and Helen intended to take them home the next day. (She had not driven into work that day) Friday morning came and went, and as a treat for our bored work experience boy we decided to go to the local pub for lunch before heading home. (Friday were a 1pm finish) We decided to squeeze ourselves into two cars (there were seven of us) and drive to the Boars Head, Helen picked up her dry cleaning (so as not to forget it later) and headed for the cars. When we got to the carpark one of the part time workers (I'm sorry to say I cannot recall her name) pointed out to Helen that the bag was unzipped, after a quick look to make sure it wasn't dirty it was pretty clear that the knickers were missing! We assumed it was one of the men from another floor having a joke (or worse!) and headed off to the pub. When we reached the pub Daniel stopped to do up his shoe lace - it was then I noticed a cream satin waist band peaking above his trousers! As he straightened up I grabbed his arm firmly and marched him over to Helen. "I think our youngest team member has something to say to you Helen" I said it with some mirth, but he was looking confused and scared. (Probably wondering if or how I had found him out) Helen stood there for a moment, then we saw the understanding dawn in her eyes. She stalked over to Daniel and asked him directly if he was wearing her knickers. For his part Daniel was absolutely mortified to be the center of a now silent group of his coworkers, all looking at him - he began to go red and stammered out an apology. For her part Helen remained calm, and didn't hit the roof like I may have done, instead she asked me to accompany her back into the town with the guilty youth. When we arrived back at the office she read him the riot act about stealing and did she want her to call his parents and school? After a few minutes of this she told him to go to the toilet and remove her knickers. When he returned she said that the matter was now closed until Monday, but that she would pick him up from his house on the way into work. No doubt he fretted and worried about what was to happen all weekend, wether or not she would meet his parents and tell all on Monday morning? The weekend passed all to quickly and we were soon back at work, although we noticed that both Helen and Daniel were late. When they eventually arrived around two hours late, Helen entered the office adroitly towing a very cowed and very nicely dressed Daniel. I can still see him to this day, dressed in an above the knee Blue suit with a White blouse and White shoes with fairly low heels, when he took the jacket off we could all see the outline of a camisole and bra straps. Helen sent him to his desk and told him to carry on as normal, but reminded him that he would answer to the name 'Debbie' for the next two weeks and not Daniel! The first time one of us called him 'Debbie' he almost exploded in anger and humiliation, Helen was not that amused and told us all to get on with our work as their was quite a back log. She also informed 'Debbie' that she should stay behind during lunch, because a) Did he really want to run the risk of being seen and b) She wanted to speak with him about his earlier outburst. After that the morning ticked on, we all strained to see what Debbie was wearing, and a few of us asked directly what had happened, but he refused to tell. (We later found out that Helen had taken him back to her house and ordered him to change into women's underwear and work wear, this was to be the routine for the next two weeks.) Lunch came and we all filed out leaving a mournful looking Debbie alone on the office. When we returned an hour later Debbie was no where to be seen, but we could hear talking coming from Helen's office. Eventually a red faced and tearful Debbie returned to his desk and sat down at his desk, proceeding to fidget for the rest of the afternoon. (Helen later revealed that she had decided to punish 'Debbie' with her belt and had ordered him over her desk, skirt up for 'a good lashing like she used to get', apparently finishing just before we entered the office.) For the remaining two weeks 'Debbie' was picked up and brought into work by Helen, there were no further altercations and he worked hard, kept his head down and was given a good report to take back to his school. On the last Friday he surprised us all when a bouquet of flowers arrived, addressed to all the women in our office, thanking us for his stay. Daniel (or Debbie) later came to work for us as a temp during the school holidays at Christmas and Easter, he was never made to dress again and was always the model of politeness. I don't know if the above counts as 'petticoat punishment' or not, I know he was certainly very polite in the office - but wether or not it affected him out of the office we shall never know. That was my only brush with the world of petticoating - I am now happily married to a man I love, and although we play games, I have no inclination to use petticoating on him. (unless I find him stealing my knickers!) Kind regards, Sarah B xx Thank you for your letter Sarah. Stealing a ladies's most intimate apparel certainly qualifies for punishment, and as we all know, that means Petticoat Punishment. Auntie Helga |