Dear Miss Susan,

Thank you for publishing my letter in your October issue about how I first experienced 'petticoat' discipline.

Sarah, my wife, has suggested I relate some further experiences, which I hope you choose to include in your excellent publication.  Obviously I can't recall all the details from what happened all those years ago, but Mum has filled us in on some of the details I couldn't remember.  She and Sarah often discuss what happened to me.  The fact that I may be in the room makes no difference.
Once my mother had discovered the effect putting me into a pair of my little sister's knickers had on me, she used it as a constant threat in case of misbehaviour.  As a ten year old boy it was not at all uncommon for me to do something which she felt deserved punishment, even though I often didn't agree that I had been naughty.  Often she would take Vanessa's word against mine, which was really frustrating.

Looking back, I think Mum was probably enjoying having two 'daughters', and looked for an excuse to dress me up.  Vanessa relished the humiliation I suffered, and took great delight in exposing my punishment to her friends. Not long after the first time I was put into a pair of Vanessa's panties I found myself in trouble again.  I was late getting ready for school, and Mum decided I would be made to wear a pair of Vanessa's school knickers.  It seemed quite harsh, but that was her decision, and my arguments only resulted in slapped legs.

I was terrified as Mum put the knickers on me.  They felt very strange and quite confining. Vanessa laughed and laughed at me.  I was dreading going to school with her knickers on.  I was sure someone would find out, either by somehow seeing them under my trousers, or by Vanessa telling someone.  Luckily we didn't have games or P.E. that day, and I got through the day without being exposed.  Vanessa teased me every playtime, but didn't actually tell anyone.

When we got home from school Mum made me take off my school uniform and put on one of Vanessa's lacy vests.  She tucked this into the knickers, and I had to spend the evening in just my sister's underwear.  It would have been pretty bad having to spend the evening in just underwear if it had been my own.  The fact that the it was Vanessa's made it almost unbearable. It was the first time I couldn't wait to go to bed.  Luckily I was allowed my own pyjamas.

Mum was obviously noticing how effective this treatment was, and as I said, seemed to quite enjoy dressing me up.  I noticed her looking fondly at me when I was running round in the knickers and vest. I hated the embarrassment of it all, although I did quite enjoy the extra attention Mum seemed to give me when I was in knickers. Not long after this incident Mum tried to put me into one of Vanessa's dresses, but it was much too small.  I thought I'd had a lucky break, but she went out and bought me a complete girl's outfit (Vanessa was smaller than me, so none of her clothes apart from her underwear fitted me).  I could have died when she showed me what she'd bought me.

I know this is a bit of a long letter, but it makes me feel better sharing these experiences with you and your readers.  Sarah also says it's good for me to relive the humiliation of it, and has made me wear a little dress and knickers to type this letter. If these reminicenses are of interest I would be happy to recount more.
Love,

'Becky'

Of course many mothers use petticoating because they really want a daughter rather than a son, and petticoat punishment certainly can make a difficult son as nice as any daughter. Having to spend an evening wearing just a lace-trimmed girl's vest and knickers must have been exqusitely humiliating. But naughty boys have always gained great benefit from such treatment.

Becky, you didn't tell us about the outfit that your Mummy bought for you. My readers are probably dying of eager anticipation, and I insist that you write again for the Christmas number.
Susan