Dear Miss MacDonald,

Lesley thought you might be interested in hearing the ordeals I would have to endure if, by chance she should feel that it was justified. She feels sure that your readers will be interested.

My ultimate humiliation punishment, with which Lesley has threatened me on a number of occasions, is detailed below. As readers of PDQ will know, I have been subjected to plenty of petticoated  humiliations within our own home, but have, so far, been spared the sort of public “outing” that hangs threateningly over me. I am not convinced that Lesley would really go as far as she threatens, but the worrying thing for me is that we both know that she could.

I would be dressed in full underwear: corselette, stockings, French knickers, and camisole top. Over this I would wear a frilled white blouse and a long, cotton, brightly-patterned gypsy-type skirt with a wide belt, beneath which the frills of my Victorian style petticoat would be allowed to show. Heeled sandals, my dark wig, light make-up with lipstick, a brightly-coloured choker, and a pair of feminine earrings would complete the pretty picture. We would then go out. As Lesley has stressed many times, I do not, in any way, 'pass inspection' as a woman. I am fairly well-built, and it would be obvious to anyone paying more than passing inspection, that I am a petticoated male. My somewhat unusual attire would ensure that more than passing attention was often paid.

We would go in Lesley’s open top sports car to a nearby town for an evening out, with me wearing a colourful head-scarf for the car journey. Lesley says we would certainly have to stop in a garage for fuel on the way. I would be required to fill up the car, and go to the cash register to pay – and my credit card bears my male Christian name! We would then drive to a multiplex cinema. Having parked the car we then have a walk through a shopping centre to the cinema – there will be a lot of people around, and Lesley says she will ensure that my predicament does not go unnoticed.

I will then be required to buy the cinema tickets, again using my credit card. Mercifully, we will then enter the darkened cinema. After leaving the cinema (I’m sure that you have been involved in the crowd leaving a cinema at the end of a film before - not much chance of anonymity!) we will go to one of the restaurants in the leisure complex. Lesley says she will insist that I go into the gents' toilet to freshen my make-up.  Once again I will be required to pay with my credit card, and finally we will drive home, where Lesley will expect to be royally “entertained” after such an evening!

As you may imagine, the thought of this is absolutely terrifying. Lesley says that she would make it obvious throughout the evening that I am totally at her beck and call, will make no effort to hide our situation, and will happily tell anybody whose curiosity is aroused that I am her husband, undergoing petticoat punishment for failing to show her proper respect.

I am sure it will be clear that the knowledge that the above could become reality is more than enough to subdue any rebellious thoughts that I may have.
Yours sincerely,

Penelope

I am sure that Lesley wouldn't really do all this; she and Penelope are too much in love, and are a very happy couple. But Penelope may not be sure, and she is the one who will have to bear the consequences, so the threat would be a way of making certain that she would remain the very well-trained housemaid that she is.

Has anybody ever been to one of these 'multiplex' cinemas? The last picture theatre that I went to was the Grimsby Odeon (now a beautifully restored 'nostalgia' picture theatre), and it has quite a rococo display of gilded statuary and vine leaves, as well as deep pile, art deco zig-zag carpet in richly saturated colours, a small but glittering chandelier, and a walnut counter where boxes of chocolates, and ices in three flavours, can be bought.

I understand that these 'multiplex' places are more like doctors' surgeries, and it is easy to walk in to the wrong part and be stuck seeing a picture that you had no desire to see. Forget the Frenchies and the frillies; going to see a film at one of those soulless places would be Penelope's worst punishment.
Susan