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July 10, 1960 My Dear Eve, Does it seem possible another year has passed since our lunch in Manhattan at Delray Gardens and then taking in the Jewel Box Review? I dearly miss your company and must say it is most pleasant writing to you and receiving your sweet letters in return. I only hope they will continue passing back and forth for years to come! I returned this morning from my holiday, and the first thing I am doing is to sit down and write to you. There is very little news since my last letter, but I do think one tidbit you will love hearing about: While in Boston, where I spent the holidays, I made contact with a lady, "Auntie," an old friend of the family, I had not seen her in years and with whom I had spent many happy hours being her little "daughter" while she watched over my sister and me during times my parents went on trips abroad for father's brokerage business. I know I had mentioned this "Auntie" to you during our lunch, but now I have good reason to give you more details. With their frequent traveling, we didn't see all that much of our parents except at dinner and on outings when they were home. Consequently, I was a sissy because as a child I spent most of my time in the company of my older sister and our nanny who treated me much like my sister, even to the wearing of a lot of her cast-off clothes, especially her plainer pieces of lingerie (since they had 'a lot of wear left in them' as she would say), though she never did dress me fully as a girl in dresses, etc. However, my feminization firmly took hold of me while staying with Auntie (my sister and I always called this dear family friend "Auntie" though she was not an actual relative). Like you, she was one of those rare females who sincerely enjoyed a petticoated male. She recognized the sissy in me, and I have to confess, it didn't take a lot of persuading on her part to let her dress me fully as a girl. My sister loved the idea of having a "sister" and happily kept my girlie days a secret from our parents, and at home, she would gently tease me about the times I became her sister and how she couldn't wait for the next time we would be staying with Auntie. At first when Auntie wanted me to put on a dress as well as fancier lingerie than I was used to, I resisted, knowing full well a dress was a blow to my boyhood (what little I did have!), but a few good paddlings with her slipper warmed my bottom and helped me get over my resistance. She said she saw the sissy side of me, and she liked that much better than my boyish side, and she was just doing what she knew would ultimately make me happy. I quickly warmed more fully to the idea since I found wearing a dress much preferable to having a slippered backside. After my initial initiation, I still got the slipper on occasion, usually for acting a little too much like a boy in a dress instead of a girl - like sitting with my legs apart, showing my lacy panties while bending over, etc., but even at those times, Auntie's fondling and petting following my paddling more than compensated for the pain and humiliation she dished out. But to get back to my news: When I had initially made contact with my old Auntie by phone and arranged to visit her, she hinted she had a surprise in store for me. Well, you can fancy what that did to me! She greeted me pleasantly and led me into her living room, where we chatted for a few minutes, while I waited expectantly to learn about the "surprise" she had mentioned. Soon after, I heard a small commotion in the hallway, and with a sly smile, she motioned for me to follow her. It was raining out at the time, and much to my delight, I saw two young girls, whom she was helping remove their rain gear. The girls appeared to be about seven and eight years of age. The older girl was quite animated and chattered on and on about the fun they had while playing with another girl who lived next door. In contrast, the second and younger girl acted very sheepish, only taking furtive sidelong glances at me. I sensed my presence was the reason for her reticence. Both girls wore bright yellow rubberized hats, raincoats and boots. As Auntie helped them out of their coats I could see they were dressed in matching pink taffeta frocks, sashed and with a swathe of full white petticoats peeping out from beneath their dresses. Unusually fancy party dresses for playing with a neighborhood girl, I thought, but then again I knew Auntie's tastes and what she considered proper dress. She introduced the older girl as Susan, who immediately executed an abbreviated curtsy-like dip and nod of her head. Then Auntie removed the rain hat from the younger girl's head to reveal a child with a rather short boyish haircut. The child's cheeks were crimson, and I thought, for a moment, she would burst into tears, as she dipped in a full curtsy that exposed a wide expanse of her nylon and lace-trimmed white petticoats. I nearly jumped in surprise when Auntie said to me, "And this is Andrew. He's sweet, isn't he?" The child covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. " "He?" I faintly groaned, affording her no end of amusement. "Yes, perhaps, I should say 'was' a he!" The child whimpered, "Oh, Auntie, how could you!" Auntie seated herself, summoned the child to her, and admonishing him for his disrespectful outburst, drew him down on her lap, where he sat weeping bitter tears even before she produced her old slipper, obviously always at the ready. She didn't paddle him very hard; in fact, it was a very light paddling, but the sissified boy cried like it was the most intense spanking ever given to any boy. She did draw out the spanking, and in between her slipper making smart little cracks on his pink pantied buttocks, Auntie informed me that ever since her experience of petticoating me as a child, she wanted a boy child she could convert into her little "niece," and after all these years, she had found such a child in Andrew. I just sat there stupefied. The features were a little too firm for a genuine girl, the arms a little too thick. His haircut, though long for a boy, gave him away as a boy. Auntie twisted a lock of his hair in her fingers and said it wouldn't be too long before his own hair would be long like his sister's! I had always thought this woman's experience petticoating me was chance happening, a once in a lifetime thing for her, but it obviously wasn't! Auntie with all her wealth is a major benefactor at a children's hospital near Boston, and she explained she had adopted the boy and his sister, the children of a woman she had befriended while doing volunteer work at the hospital. The woman was dying of skin cancer, and when the disease advanced quickly, the woman put in her will that she wanted Auntie to adopt the children since both the boy and girl always had gotten along with her so famously and she had no other family. I'll hold my mouth and not venture how much Auntie orchestrated that entire adoption process; I didn't enquire, but it was all a bit eerie. At the time of my arrival, the children's mother had passed away just two months before, and Auntie had nearly completed the adoption process. As you probably can guess, I was simply on pins and needles during the entire time of my visit. Nor was I spared mortification, as she insisted on reminding me of the many times I had visited her as a child and she kept me as a little girl, and how sweet I looked in petticoats. That news appeared to relieve Andrew's tenseness to a considerable degree. Quite as surprising for me was her announcement that he was already scheduled to attend a private girls' school just two months hence, and with the help of a wig (until his own hair grew fully out) and her intensive training in the skills of being a female, not even the Headmistress would know of his deception. Honestly Eve, I hated to leave. |
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Incidentally, have you noticed in the newspapers, that many of the well-known
fashion designers declare that taffeta is once again becoming fashionable? The ads
carry out this with their illustrations. Plaid taffeta skirts are the most widely
advertised; but there are elegant evening gowns as well, mostly in black, but
taffeta dresses in gay colors are in vogue for young girls, like Auntie's new
stepson and stepdaughter were wearing. I'm enclosing a snapshot taken at the time I
met Andrew and Susan coming in from the rain, but I must ask you to return it, when
you have finished with it because it is my only copy and I can't seem to find the
negative. Hope it titillates your fancy!
Must close and get this into the post. James/Jane I just love the classics! What are your thoughts? Auntie Helga |