Forced to wear dresses
Dear Helga,

When I was eight years old, my mother started to punish me by making me wear dresses. It started out as a one or two day ordeal, but as time went on the time in dresses grew to one week, then 2 then three, and then she started to ground me in month durations, and if I did anything to get her angry, she would add even more time, As I got older and grew she bought new dresses to fit me, and the punishments were more frequent, and longer. For example, when I brought home low grades on my report cards, that meant automatic dress time at home until my next report card, and no matter how hard I tried, I usually got report cards with what my mother regarded as low grades; additionally, my teachers would also add comments about my bad behavior in class. It got so bad that three out of my four summer vacations during high school were spent entirely in dresses.

My mother threatened to make me wear a dress to school. She never did follow through on that threat, but she used that threat to get me to do her wishes. At that time I was glad she did not make me wear a dress to school, but now I wished she would have because in hindsight I find the idea greatly exciting even though I know I would have been scared out of my wits at eight or nine years old. But as I got older and had to wear dresses and lingerie more often, I got used to them, and I started to like them, especially the nylon slips and panties teased my boy parts. Of course, I did not let my mother know that, but I wonder how she could have missed it since I started to do things to prolong my petticoat punishment, and she had to see my excitement of wearing girls' clothes that I found hard to disguise at times. By the time I was eleven years old, I was being punished a lot, and as I entered my teenaged years, I was dressed completely as a girl except when I was at school. By then I was wearing ruffled nylon babydoll nighties to bed every night too - I quickly learned to really love them!

Except for an uncle (my mother's much older brother), we had no relatives, and he thought I was a stupid little sissy and didn't give a damn that mother dressed me like one. He would come over for dinner a few times a year, but he barely ever said a word to me, and when he talked with mother he would refer to me as 'she' or 'her.'

But even at school, mother made me wear lingerie (white nylon panties and a girls' undershirt) and simple white bobby socks and girls' loafers, but no one ever discovered them as being girls because they were very plain and I was very careful. At home, I was made to vacuum the floors, wash the dishes, sew, and cook, things mother taught me over the years, and things that I'm now glad I learned to do. Mother bought a cheap wig for me and would always say, "Since you can't stay out of trouble as a boy, I'm going to make a girl out of you, so when you grow up you will be a good housewife to someone!" Well, I never did get married. I have had a number of close relationships with females, but more like girlfriend to girlfriend than lovers. I have made love to some of my girlfriends over the years, but I wasn't very good at it because I always wanted them to take the lead and let me play the submissive role. I haven't been fortunate enough to find a female who likes doing that. Eventually, all of my close female friends got to know my female side and my love of female clothes. It was always so wonderful that they would accept that side of me and treat me like a girlfriend, but it also killed any chance of them wanting me as a husband. And that sums up my life over the last thirty years.

Here is a photo mother took of me when I was young teenager.


Vivian as a girl

Vernon/Vivian

Thank you for your letter Vivian. I hope in time you can find a woman that will see what a great and supportive husband you can be.

Auntie Helga

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