|
As requested, I have written a longer and more in-depth letter about my wonderful petticoating days with my grandmother during my teenaged years adding in details and incidents I had left out in my original letter, giving more of a fuller picture and a richer reading experience, I hope. But as I have written in much more detail about the things I have remembered from that time than I thought I would, I have decided the break my letter down into two or maybe more parts, depending on the length of the rest of my tale I am still writing as you read this. The following text is simply the first part. I hope to finish and send off to you the conclusion or simply the next installment of my tale in the near future. In the meantime, I hope you and the readers enjoy reading the first part of my more detailed retelling of my petticoating days with gran. As I wrote the following, I half wished I could relive those days over again. To begin with, I though I would include a small recap about my previous letter. In August, as regular readers will know, I wrote and sent a letter about my petticoating experiences to the late Susan, which she kindly published in that month's edition of the magazine. It told the story of how I was at first forced to wear women's clothes by my gran, as my own clothes were soaking wet after I was caught in a heavy rain shower during my trip over to hers on my bicycle. Of course, the only spare clothes she kept were her own, as she lived alone, so I had no choice but to wear them. At first I hated the thought of having to wear them, but after putting them on I realize they weren't so bad after all, and that I actually enjoyed wearing them. To a point were I decided I would like to wear them every time I visited my gran's. if she was willing, of course. Unlike my original letter, I thought I would start my new tale from one month after my original petticoating. As mentioned in that letter, I so wanted to wear women's clothes again, or should I say her clothes? I thought I would accidentally, forget to take my change of clothes during my next weekend stay with her, exactly one month later. On telling her this shortly after my arrival Friday dinner time, she told me I couldn't wear the same underpants and socks all weekend and that I would need to change into a pair of knickers and tights again. "Okay," I replied, producing none of the protests of the original petticoating, one month previous. At first I think my gran really believed I had accidentally forgotten my change of clothes, but after my overly enthusiastic agreement, she narrowed her gaze on me. After a moments thought, she asked me if I wanted to stay in my jeans, t-shirt and sweater all weekend, or change into a dress. I can remember saying a little shyly, as it was the first real time I admitted liking the clothes, I would like to change into one of her dresses. She smiled at me and simply said, "Okay, I'll see what I can find for you." The next morning I was dressed in full women's garb again, and enjoying every moment. Like the previous weekend with her, I stayed dressed in them all weekend until Sunday evening when I set off for home. Again as I mentioned in the previous letter, by the time of my second trip after the original happy incident, my gran had fully realized I liked dressing as a girl, and that my change of clothes was waiting for me on my bed to get changed into as soon as I'd arrived, which I did. After I'd changed into them, I went to help her prepare our dinner, as I always did. As I donned one of her frilliest pinnies, she told me that she would have a surprise for me around bedtime that evening. I immediately asked her what it was, but she told me that would ruin the surprise. A few minutes later though, she did intimate it was something to do with how I was dressing now. That evening passed pretty much as usual. I helped her cook our dinner, then we sat and caught up on each other's respective lives, but mostly mine, and watched a bit of TV. But the subject of me liking to dress up in women's clothes strangely never came up, and never really did during the entire following five years I stayed with her at weekends. I think she just accepted it as an everyday thing that didn't warrant thought or an explanation. Or maybe she personally preferred me dressing up as a girl, her granddaughter, and didn't want to talk to me about it incase I felt insecure and changed my mind about doing it. I think in the end it was a mixture of both reasons. For a starter, I think she liked and could relate to a girl more than a boy, as she had had two daughters (one being my mother) and no sons. And her own siblings were mostly sisters. Whatever the reason, I was happy she had accepted it and treated me more or less the same as before, or even a little better. We both retired to bed around eleven that evening. I asked about my surprise as we made our way to our respective rooms, but she simply said, "Patience is a virtue". I didn't really know she meant, but I presumed she'd changed her mind, and I would get whatever my surprise was tomorrow morning now instead. But as I was getting undressed to change into my pajamas (I had left a pair at my gran's during my first stay a couple of years previous, so I would always have a pair there to change into no matter what), she walked into my bedroom unannounced, which was unusual for her as she usually always knocked, holding a neatly folded light coloured piece of clothing in her right hand. Why this my surprise? I asked myself when I saw it. I can still remember the following conversation to this day, as I think it was point when I truly became her granddaughter, if I wanted to or not. I think it was also the time when my grandmother toke control of my petticoating, taking the choice out of my hands. "I've bought something for you. I want you to wear it every night you stay with me from now on," my gran said, starting off the conversation. I noticed the tone of her voice was slightly harder than normal, so I presumed it was an order she was giving me rather than a request. "What is it?" I asked. "It's a nightdress," and with that, she unfolded the nightie in front of her. It was a light yellow colour, and had a white flowery white trim around the hemline and sleeves. It was also quite long. "Do you like it?" I smiled, nodded, and said, "It's very pretty." "Are you going to let me put it on you, then?" I was a bit taken aback by her phrasing. Even though she had kindly let me wear her clothes, I never thought we would come to a point were she would dress me in them herself. "You're going to put it on me?" She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, I want to show you how to put it on right. I'm presuming you've never worn a nightdress before." "No," I replied. At this point I started to get a bit worried, as I had never worn knickers, tights and a dress before that fateful day two months ago, but my gran hadn't helped me into them. Clearly since she'd realized I wanted to wear women's clothes every time I visited her, she soon also came to the conclusion that she now had extra power over me; and she clearly was going to exercise that power. I was now at her mercy. "Well, I think I better do it for you, then. I always dressed my two daughters, one being your mother, before they were old enough to do it for themselves. Do you want me to take off your day clothes for you as well?" Not wanting to argue, I nodded. Since retiring to my bedroom, I'd only had the chance to take off my indoor shoes before my gran had walked in. She smiled and walked up to me. "Turn around." I did as she asked, turning my back to her. She undid the zip on the back of the dress I was wearing and pulled it down my body. When she had folded it down to my feet, I stepped out of it. She then pulled the camisole I was wearing up and over my head, before gently taking off my tights and knickers, one at a time. Once she had finished, she said, "Okay, turn around, and hold your arms out straight." Again I did exactly what she asked off me, and she slipped the nightie over my head and down my body. The bottom fell to about halfway down my calves. My first thoughts were that it was lovely and soft, and I loved the way it seemed to hug my body in a warm embrace. My gran smiled looking at me. "You look lovely, dear." I smiled back at her. "It's lovely, gran. Thank you." "There is no need to thank me. After all, you are my granddaughter. It's my job to spoil you." Again I was instantly taken aback by what she had said. It was the first time she had called me that. It was then that I truly realized from now on I was going to be her granddaughter when I visited her, and that I could never go back to being her grandson ever again. Even though I was excited by that prospect, I was still a little disappointed that I would never be my true self around her again. But I held comfort in the fact she liked me more as a girl than a boy, and I was happy to dress as a girl for her for the rest of her life. I loved her too much not to. "Now, get a good nights sleep, as I want to discuss a few things with you tomorrow. I will get you up in the morning to dress you, okay?" I also dawned on me then she would now dress and undress me from now on. I didn't dislike the thought as such; I just thought I could do it myself, but if dressing and undressing me made her happy, who was I to argue? I simply smiled to her and said, "Okay". As I climbed into bed in my lovely new nightdress, I started to wonder what she wanted to discuss with me the following day. I guessed from her tone it was to do with me being her granddaughter now. I fell asleep thinking about it and the times ahead at my gran's, hardly being able to wait for the next day to come. To be continued... Paul Another lovely chapter in Paul's feminization at his grandmother's insistence. I do hope this will be an inspiration to other women to involve the family in the petticoating of their male charges. Auntie Helga |