I would like to congratulate you on your site which I chanced across this week - judging by the amount of contributions it must be a lot of work to get all the letters together, edit and publish.  I note you are an Aberdonian, my wife and I have been living in Aberdeen for around 18 months now - apart from the weather, it's a great place, and we spend many weekends hill walking locally in Deeside and the west coast too.

I would like to tell you about my  past, and perhaps you or other readers could give some advice to my wife on how I should be punished for my misdemeanours.

I was very young when I first became aware of the humiliation of being dressed like a girl. A large picture of me when I was a  baby wearing a dress and kneeling on the floor playing with my toys was framed and hung on the living room wall. My older brother and sister teased me mercilessly about it. I refused to accept that it was a picture of me and believed it to be just a picture of a girl. I also refused to believe it when I was told my middle name was Julian, as I believed it to be a girl's name and I was definitely not a girl. As well as this my mother kept my hair, which was blond and very straight, long, and, with my blue eyes, whenever relations came to visit, they always used to comment that I should have been a girl.

Later - as the teachers in our village school had a poor reputation - it was decided to send me to a fee paying school to improve my education. I was sent to the convent at which my sister was a pupil and which took boys up until age 11. Of  course there were far more girls than there were boys, and my friends in the village teased me about going to a girls' school and asked why I didn't  wear the appropriate uniform.

In school the classes were mixed until age 10, then the boys were separated into another class to prepare for the 11+ exams. In this class one or two of the boys became noisy and disruptive and as a punishment they were made to attend the girls' class. They had to stand with the girls in morning assembly, and I remember one nun remarking that if they were in the girls' class they should be dressed like girls. The thought of this type of punishment scared me very much and kept me on the straight and narrow. As it turned out the threat of dressing them in girls' clothes was never carried out. Because I was in a class of all boys, whenever it came to class plays, boys were always selected to play the girls' parts and I was always terrified that I would be picked to play a girl. This fear followed me all the way through school as I went to an all boys' grammar school afterwards.

I think I was 9 when I first actually tried on a dress. I was playing in my mother's bedroom and found a small dress in her wardrobe. I held it up to myself and imagined what it would be like to be made to wear it. Curiosity got the better of me and I tried it on. It was floor length, with short puff sleeves and was blue silk with red velvet trimming. The back fastened with press studs and there was a belt which was stitched to the front and tied in a bow at the back. Of course I couldn't manage to get the back fastened properly - but the excitement and fear of being caught and humiliated was wonderful. I had found the dress at the back of the wardrobe and I was sure my mother wouldn't miss it - I took it and hid it behind the bath in the bathroom. I tried it on several times when I was in the house on my own. Eventually we had a new bath and the dress was found and thrown out. No awkward questioned were asked of me how it came to be rolled up behind the bath.

In those years (late fifties) my mother used to collect clothing for forwarding to charities that looked after orphans and refugees in Europe.  I used to look through the bundles, and occasionally select a dress to try on, but I always made sure that it was returned afterwards so that I wouldn't get found out. It wasn't until I was about 12 or 13 that I became interested in underwear. The first time I tried any was after my sister moved away to college. At this time my brother was in boarding school and my father was away most of the time at sea. There was only my mother and I living at home. I went into my sister's room and checked out the clothes she had left behind.

In the wardrobe there were several fifties style dresses and blouses and skirts - in the chest of drawers there were some school type gym knickers, bras, and a pink petticoat with layers of net, and a one piece swimsuit that had a certain amount of figure control built in. It had hook fastening and a zip at the back and shoulder straps with adjustable button fastening. At this time I had grown quite a bit and was a lot fatter around the waist than my sister. I tried on a bra, the grey school knickers, and the pink petticoat. I selected a red silk cocktail dress with shoulder straps and a flared skirt from the wardrobe and slipped it on but couldn't get the back zip pulled up - I eventually broke the zip, and knew I was in trouble. I put everything back and left - it would be several weeks before my sister would return and maybe she would not discover the damage if she didn’t get invited to any parties.

On another occasion I took the swimsuit and tried it on - it was very  tight and I had difficulty in getting the back zip fully fastened. I lengthened the shoulder straps to the maximum but it was still very tight - it felt wonderful I lay on the bed running my hands up and down my squeezed body and then something really strange happened my penis which was rock hard suddenly started to pulse and fluid was ejaculated - this was the first time I had ever ejaculated and it was tremendously exciting. Of course I became hooked
and the swimming costume became a regular accessory to my nightwear and I was always checking out the charity clothes for other tight underwear including corsets and pantie girdles as well as bras, petticoats and slips.

I became addicted to the clothes and couldn't put them back after I had worn them - I kept them hidden in my bedroom.  Around this time I started to grow my hair long and used to sport a 'Beatle Cut' at the same time my breasts started to swell - this is not uncommon in adolescent boys, however the boys at school noticed and used to tease me about the size of them and girls always suggested that I should be wearing a bra as they had started and had smaller breasts than me. What they didn’t know was that when I got home I frequently did wear a bra.

The whole period was very confusing for me - I thought I really was turning into a girl. I had heard about the April Ashley case in the news (For younger readers she was one of the earlier male to female sex change subjects) and I thought this was actually happening to me without any assistance from doctors or surgeons.

On some occasions when I came home from school I found that my collection had been discovered, removed and burnt, but I was never challenged and forced to face up to my wrong doings. I'm sure my sister knew I wasborrowing her things as I broke several zips and on later occasions I noticed that these had been repaired. Everytime my collection was discovered and removed I would wait until the next assignment of charity gear arrived and start my collection again.  On one occasion during school holidays my sister announced in front of my brother and mother that she and my mother had found my store of frilly underwear beneath the mattress of my bed. I was very embarrassed and could say nothing. My mother laughed it off and told me that it had all been burnt. I wish I had been humiliated by being forced to wear the clothes before confiscation - but I guess it wouldn't have curbed any desires - you only need to check out the letters of your other contributors to see how they've been hooked for life! Even now after long
periods of abstinence there are still occasions when I feel the need to be dressed and at these times my fantasies always run to enforced dressing and possibly some restraint to prevent me removing the clothes without permission. However, after dressing and relief I never have any desire to remain in the clothes and I get out of them as quickly as possible and put them away.

On leaving school the first thing I did was to grow a beard - quite fashionable among the pop stars at the time - I felt this would remove any feminine looks I had and convince myself and everyone else that I was a virile male. I thought it would stop me from wanting to put on girls clothes. However it didn't work I still needed the clothes and I looked ridiculous when dressed. I guess it had the effect of keeping me and my secret indoors. I am still hiding behind the beard to this day.

I didn’t tell my wife about my habit as I felt far too embarrassed and afraid that she would reject me. However, she has since found out about my secret. When we were first married ( 6 years ago) I moved all my things into the attic and forgot all about them. Things changed when I was made redundant, and I found work in Aberdeen - I worked and lodged in Aberdeen during the week and returned home to England at weekends. After a while I got bored in the evenings and began to miss my 'hobby'. One week end at home I retrieved some of my clothes from the attic  so I could indulge in some fantasy in the evenings. I put the clothes in my suitcase which my wife had already packed and went to the local town to get money. When I came back I noticed the suitcase had moved - I was in a panic as to whether my wife had discovered my guilty secret - she didn’t say anything but she later told me she had seen the clothes but hadn't challenged me because she thought they were for another woman - it had come as a nasty shock to her and she was worried we were going to part company.

A few months later she went overseas to see her family for a couple of weeks - I spent a weekend at home on my own and got all the things from the attic and hung the dresses and skirts in my wardrobe and put the underwear in my chest of drawers. I sorted everything out and threw out a lot of things that were too small. However, I got careless and left a dress in my wardrobe and some tights and slip in my drawer. These were found when my wife returned home and she demanded an explanation. She believed another woman had been staying and wouldn't believe me when I said they were my things - this is when I found out that she had found the things in the suitcase - she was very angry and upset and said she was going to return to her family overseas. However I finally convinced her that I had been dressing for years and that there had been no other woman. She wanted to know if I was gay but I have never had any desire for that. I have always believed that women should be in control. She took the offending items and burnt them and made me promise that I wouldn't buy anymore while I was on my own in Aberdeen.

Back in Aberdeen I still had some clothes in a bag in the boot of my car and occasionally indulged, and I'm afraid I broke my promise as I bought some black strappy  3.5"  high  heeled shoes, some dark tan hold up stockings and a black and gold calf length skirt, all of which have seen an outing in the street in daylight when it was raining, and I could pull the hood of my anorak over my head. The face opening of the anorak is also small and hides my beard.

Now we are living in rented accommodation in Aberdeen - I still have my bag in the boot of my car, but most of my collection is in the house in England.  Last year we were invited to a fancy dress party and the theme was that everyone should be a  'God'. My wife was thinking about my outfit and suggested she bought a large dress from a thrift shop and alter it to make a Greek god outfit. I went off to work terrified, and thrilled that she was going to buy me a dress that people would see me in. However, nothing caught her eye, and she purchased some material and made a kind of kaftan type outfit. Other people in England have been asking her if I have worn a kilt. I have told her that no self respecting Englishman would wear a kilt -  but she keeps hinting at how smart it looks and tells me that there is nothing wrong with men wearing a kilt. I must admit that it would be humiliating to wear a kilt with a voluminous petticoat underneath, as suggested by one of your contributors.

I work in an office and spend most of my day using a computer, therefore I resisted purchasing one for the home. My wife suggested we should get one so that she could keep in touch with her family by e-mail. However I have discovered the delights of the internet and have spent a lot of time checking around the sites related to my 'hobby'. My wife has become suspicious of what I am doing,  and her suspicions were confirmed when she came in unexpectedly, and I was guiltily closing down the internet as fast as I could. She demanded to know what I was looking at, but I felt embarrassed and refused to show her. I told her I was just reading some articles, but she knows I have a guilty secret and she keeps reminding me that she is upset about me refusing to reveal all.

I feel that I owe my wife an explanation and I must show her all the sites I have checked out. I want her to read this message, but I fear the consequences - I anticipate that she will be angry and confiscate all my things and forbid me to use the computer without supervision. I know she doesn’t like the idea of me dressing in women’s clothes and would prefer me to be the reliable man I normally am.

I hope I haven't bored you with the above - as you can see for all my life I've got away without any petticoat training and have become a person with a dark and guilty secret. I would like you and your contributors to suggest what actions my wife should take to punish me for my wrong doings and to persuade her that for long term addicts, cold turkey doesn’t work. In return I promise to report fully any punishment regimes imposed. I summarise the acts of which I am guilty and have never received punishment for:

Borrowing my sisters clothes without permission.
Damaging my sisters clothes.
Stealing women's clothes from the charity donations.
Not helping with housework.
Not obeying, and ignoring, instructions from my wife.
Leaving the toilet seat up when I have finished in the bathroom.
Not cleaning away my breakfast things and forgetting to do the washing up.
Not helping with the washing and ironing.
Using the internet to indulge in my fantasy when I should be paying attention to my wife.
Breaking my promise to my wife by buying women's clothes after she had forbidden it.
Watching television and not paying attention when my wife is speaking to me.
Telling my wife to be quiet when I am listening to the news on the radio.
Explaining my life history to complete strangers before discussing with my wife first.
 

Finally I must explain this is the first time in 49 years that I have done anything like this, and I wish you great success with your site. I am especially looking forward to your special edition on corsets and girdles.

Regards,

Julie Anne

Julie Anne has written a very open confession of her life long love for petticoats and dresses. And she is a new  Aberdonian! I don't know about 'apart from the weather', personally I love cold weather, and the Scottish climate generally. Aberdeen is a beautiful and very friendly city, and I must recommend this site to all my readers: 

Some of my overseas readers may not be aware that Scotland is one of the most prominent countries in the computer industry, and many of the extraordinary advances in computer technology over the last twenty years or so have originated in the silicon glens.

I certainly think that a regime of petticoat punishment would be entirely appropriate for some of the misdemeanours that Julie Anne has described. Not helping with the housework, or the washing and ironing indeed! Men never change, unless they are put into petticoats by a firm woman's hand. Perhaps you should show your wife this site, although I could not guarantee the results for which you obviously yearn. It is a pity that there are women who cannot understand the need some husbands have for petticoat discipline, and the benefits which would accrue to all parties involved.

I have had another busy month, but I am determined to keep the site going. It would be a terrible disappointment for thousands of devoted readers were it to cease, and I would be letting down the many who have taken the trouble and expense to send me some absolutely invaluable material. I mention this because I have not had time as yet to answer Julie Anne's letter personally, but all letters will be answered in time. I am just behind with my correspondence, but I do keep full records of my mail.
Susan