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Dear Auntie Helga, I wanted to let your readers know how my sister used petticoat discipline successfully to change me from an incorrigible boy to her respectful and dainty sister when we were growing up. At two years older she was naturally taller and stronger than me for many years but became more so when she hit puberty around age 12, becoming a head taller, many pounds heavier and nearly twice as strong. She also partook in traditional Irish Dancing which significantly strengthened her lower body over mine. Years of routine Irish Dancing leg exercises made her already longer and thicker thighs and calves also very muscular, whereas with my late adolescence my legs were quite puny around this time. As a naughty young boy I naturally caused her trouble and enjoyed poking fun at her when she did her daily practice of Irish Dance routines wearing the long white effeminate knee socks, pink shirt and short shorts that were the uniform of her Irish Dancing Institution. One day when I was fourteen my bothersome teasing ended up causing a fight between her and I. She punched and pushed me hard and fast through our living room, our hallway and into my bedroom, with her landing dozens of blows and using her superior height, weight and strength to keep pushing me backwards and me helplessly trying to stop her. I was being hit so hard I could not manage to hit her back and would not have hurt her much if I had. I clearly lost the altercation and begged her to stop while she said triumphantly: "I just beat you up." I promised not to bother her anymore and we both went away from the altercation knowing full well that she was in command of me now, because I would have to obey her to avoid another severe beating. I found this to be incredibly bothersome at first and resented having a physically superior sister. Fortunately a short time later we were going to bed one evening and it was very cold out. Our parents were asleep and I quietly crept around trying to find suitable night clothes. With all of my usual options in the washing machine I mentioned to my sister that I did not have anything to wear to bed. She smiled at me and suggested that I wear some of her old clothes to bed. She brought me to her room and told me to put on her old Irish Dancing uniform of effeminate white calf length socks, short shorts and a pink tee shirt, which she had worm when she was eleven years old. I was reluctant to put on this clothing but I knew I had to be obedient to her and put on the clothing in front of her as she instructed me to. Even though when this uniform had been assigned to her she had been three years younger than I was at the time the socks, shorts and shirt fit my small and scrawny body very well. I graciously thanked her and went to bed feeling more like I was her little sister than ever. From that time on I asked her for girls socks, shirts, shorts and underwear to wear in her presence at home and have enjoyed following all of her commands when the two of us are alone together. She eventually warmed up to my newfound obedience and feminine attire; once I fell asleep on our couch in my normal attire and awoke in her bed. She came in to her room later and explained that she had decided to lift me up and carry me there. She then asked me to change out of my regular clothes and into a long white pair of her athletic socks, her skimpy boxers and a feminine tee shirt. I was nervous and yet re-assured by the fact that this was the first time she was asking me to wear her regular clothes and not her Irish Dance ones. I hesitated, she looked at me forcefully and then I complied and said "Yes ma'am" in my still high pitched voice. I realized that from then on she could make me wear any female clothes and that I enjoyed letting her do so and becoming her little sister. Jordon Thank you for your letter Jordon. Your loving sister did the right thing by taking control of your obnoxious ways and teaching you that girls, or boys dressed like girls, are so much nicer. Auntie Helga |