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Dear Auntie Helga, When I was in about 7th grade, I became fascinated by my mother's undergarments. One in particular was what they called a 'corselette', a one-piece garment, open at the bottom, with garters to hold up the nylon stockings. One afternoon, while she was out, I ventured into her room, and managed to get the garment on. I was admiring myself in the mirror, when she arrived home early. She took one look, and said, simply, "That's very pretty - now take it off" I did, and she grabbed me, turned me over her knee, and delivered a sound spanking on my bare bottom. When she was finished, she said "Don't make any plans for Saturday" This was a Tuesday, so I had a lot of time to consider what she had in mind. Saturday morning, she said, "Take a shower, get dressed, and be downstairs in fifteen minutes." When I did, we got into the car, and without a word, she drove over to a rather fashionable shopping area on the East Side. She parked, and we went into a ladies's lingerie shop, and said to the woman, "Here she is!" To my extreme discomfort, her young assistant took me into a small dressing room, handed me a pair of frilly white panties and said "Get undressed, and put these on" Feigning some resistance, I balked, and she made it clear that I had no choice. When I was clad in the panties (which felt very nice) she came back with a corselette, pink, with lace cups, and six garters. She showed me how to put it on (surprise), filled the cups with foam forms, and then produced a pair of nylons. I got them on, protesting all the while, and she hooked the six garters. She then led me out into the store for my mother's inspection. Satisfied, she picked out a full slip, very lacy, and told me put my clothes back on, over the lingerie. She selected some more panties, and then we left for a women's clothing store, where she selected a party dress, an every-day dress, and a school-girl outfit - Plaid skirt, white blouse and cardigan sweater. She had the clerk take me into a fitting room to try on all the outfits. We finished up there, and then, dressed in the school outfit, we drove to her hair-dressers, to select a short, curly wig, and get made up - powder, lipstick, the whole route. Now, I was the little girl she had never had, 'Lora' Of course, all the people in the stores, beauty shop, etc., were all in on the scheme. When we got home, she didn't park in the garage, so I had to walk to the house, wearing my new clothes. When we got inside, she sat me down, and laid down the rules: These would be my week-end clothes, for the un-determined future. "Don't make any week-end plans - if you want to be with friends, they will have to see you dressed this way. When I am ready, I'll let you wear your regular clothes on week-ends, but if you slip up, back to the skirts. Also, at my discretion, I may insist that you wear panties to school. Agreed?" What choice did I have? As I grew, as boys will, she took me out periodically for new clothes. She thought she was punishing me, but of course, I loved every minute of it. Now, sixty years later, I still enjoy it. As I write this, I'm wearing panties, nylons, long-line bra and panty girdle. Keep up the good work, and remind your ladies - they may think it's punishment, buy maybe it's not! As ever, Lora Thank you for your letter Lora. You are so right, many boys find the silky textures of ladies's underclothes to be exciting as your mother obviously figured out. Auntie Helga |