His mother looked at him, half sorry that he had been such a tiresome, annoying  nuisance to Julia and her friend Karen, and said quietly:

“They are going to be your clothes, Tony — we’ve decided to dress you as a girl.”

Tony’s heart missed a beat. What was that? Had he heard right?

“You’ve decided what?” he said uncertainly, in disbelief and a touch of alarm. Carol, Julia’s very annoyed mother, was more direct.

“You’re going to be a girl — you heard your mother. Get up now and put your new clothes on”. She bent down, flicked open the case, and rummaged for a moment, and lightly held up a pair of glistening satin pale-blue, frilled knickers.

Tony looked at them in horror.

“Like hell I will! I’m not wearing them.
“—You’re crazy, both of you. I'm not a girl — g-glve me my own clothes.”

“Sorry, can’t do that — they’re all gone — destroyed

“No! You’re teasing, Mum. It’s a joke, isn’t it?” he cried, more in fear now than apprehension. Surely they’d not do this to him. It was ridiculous. He was nearly thirteen, not a child!

“Why?” he blurted out. “What for?”

“To teach you a lesson. Make you behave. Get rid of your rough edges. No use trying to argue, too late for that, my boy — you’ll spend a few weeks in dresses, and we’ll see about trousers after that!”

Tony was really scared now. The prospect of wearing a dress appalled him. Girls were soppy — all soft and such. Yet his mother and aunt were going to dress him up as a girl.

“Get up now,” said Carol, and pulled off the bedclothes, throwing the pretty knickers at him at the same time. She took over the proceedings, a wooden hairbrush in her right hand. Tony saw it and shivered. Miserably he began to pull up the silky girl’s knickers up his legs. “Ugh! — how soft they felt, all smooth and dainty, and he felt ridiculous.

“Now your petticoat,” ordered Carol, hardly able to contain her enjoyment of the situation.

The boy pulled the petticoats up to his waist. It was one of Karen’s chiffon dance petticoats, three filmy layers. deeply flounced and frilled on each layer, extremely flared for a swirl effect. The effect of the soft rustling and girlish slithering of the filmy material on his thighs, plus this affront to his masculinity was more than Tony could stand!

“I’ll not be a girl. I’ll not do this — you get out of the room,” he wept, and began to pull down his petticoat.

Suddenly he felt a sting of pain on his calves, then another. He fell back onto the bed, his frillies in disarray.

“Oooh, ow," he cried. “Please stop.” He rubbed his sore leg.

“Get up, my little girlie,” ordered his Aunt Carol, standing above him. The boy cringed as he saw the hairbrush, the suspenders, and her pretty but determined face. His fight was nearly gone — tears stung the back of his eyes.

“Please, don’t dress me as a girl,” he begged. These words Linda herself found rather appealing — he’d never been so submissive and quiet for years. Carol put on a mocking, syrupy voice:

“Put your pretty petticoat on properly, sweetie — then your little dress.”

Tony pulled the frilly thing up in utter revulsion, then raised his arms at Carol’s bidding, and felt a slippery, soft satin dance dress slither over his head and fall lightly onto the frothy white petticoats. The sun shone through the window onto the pink satin flared skirt, creating a shimmering effect. The hem was frilled in a flounce of lilac chiffon. The waist was nipped in — it fit beautifully. A pair of knee-length white socks, and girls' strap shoes, ensured that the look was no accident.

It was like a nightmare to the young lad, but the two women were beginning to revel in the effect they’d created. When they added a long blonde wig which combed into a full fringe, and also cascaded bouncing onto his shoulders, they stopped to take a good look.

“Really cute,” teased Carol, and tied a pink silk ribbon in his hair. “You’ll cause quite a stir when we take you out this morning.”

Tony let out a cry of anguish, “No! No! Please don’t take me out like this,” he begged. “I’ll do anything — I’ll change my ways — honest.”

Tears welled in his eyes. Linda, his mother, looked at her sister for any sign of pity — but there was none. Carol believed in petticoat punishment for boys who teased girls, and wanted to really humiliate the poor child. Carol shook her head and said firmly, “Look, we’ve told you already. You’re going to be a girl and behave, or you’ll really regret it. We’ve decided to call you Susan — such a pretty, girlish name — and you will act as a girl. If there is any boyish behaviour you will be punished. Understand, Susan?”

“I don’t want to be a girl. Please, please — don’t send me out as a girl, please Auntie. Mum, please — I’m a boy, not a girl.” Tears ran down his cheeks as he wriggled in acute fear of a few weeks in girls’ clothes. He could never act like a girl — could he? But there was to be no mercy.

“Come along to breakfast, Susan darling,” coaxed his mother. “You weep like a girl — it suits your pretty dress.” Tony gulped miserably. He was led to the breakfast room, his short skirt rustling and sliding softly on his thighs. He had to keep brushing his blonde locks from his eyes just like a girl. He sat uncomfortably at the table — too upset to eat. Suddenly, he heard the patter of feet — and Julie rushed into the room. She’d been looking forward to when she’d see Tony in girl’s clothes very much, having been briefed by her mother. She ran to the table and let out a shriek of surprise and delight.

“Oooh — he’s really girlie!” she enthusiastically cried. “Oooh! — don’t Kathy’s dresses look sweet on him?” stating at Tony’s shimmering costume.

‘Show Julie your pretty things, Susan,” Tony was ordered. “Stand up now — let her see you properlyl” The boy was too scared to disobey. He got to his feet.

“Susanl” giggled Julie. “Can I call him ‘Susan’ too?”

“Of course — you must. He is your little sister now,” she was told. Then to Tony she added, “And you will do as Julie tells you, or suffer the consequences.” Tony submitted to the girl he hated, she raising his skirts, layer by layer. She giggled over his frilly petticoats, which rustled and slid in her hands, and danced in glee at his ruffled, blue satin knickers. “Oh, Susan — you’re a real girl now,” she laughed and clapped her hands in delight.

Tony sat down again and squirmed in shame as the women discussed how pretty he looked. They dressed in pretty dresses too, and Julie changed into a cute flared skirt and a T-shirt with no name on it. He pleaded miserably again, “Please, I’ll do anything — don’t take me out there. I don’t want to be a little girl,” and looked around helplessly for some sign of sympathy. Even now he couldn’t believe they’d actually do such an awful thing to him.

“Come on now Susan,” said Linda as she opened the door.

“No! Please…I’ll be nice to Julie…” cried the boy in absolute terror. Carol and Linda came to his chair and dragged him bodily to the door. He felt himself pushed outside! Tears poured down his face as the door closed behind him. The next two hours Tony was to remember forever. Being a girl he found frightening, and utterly humiliating. With Carol on one side and Linda on the other, each holding a hand tightly.

Tony was taken crying down the High Street to the seafront. Julie ran behind laughing. “I saw his knickers!” she cried out, as a gust of wind blew Tony’s light, soft skirts up around his waist. He couldn’t hold his dress down with the two women holding his hands tightly, which was humiliating in itself.

On reaching the front his agonies really began. His glistening dance dress and frilly petticoats were vividly noticeable to all who passed by.
“Mummy, it’s a big boy in a girl’s dress,” he heard one little girl say to her mother. “Yes, don’t stare,” came the reply. Tony wished the ground would open and swallow him up to end this shameful ordeal. Julie was questioned by two other girls on holiday, and they quickly became friendly. The three girls giggled loudly behind the boy as he was taken along. Whenever his dress flew up he heard screams of laughter from the girls. It was mental torture for him.

“I like your knickers, Susie,” called out one of the girls, and there was a peal of girly giggles.

“Pretty petticoats, Susan,” called the other, taking her cue from her friend. Accompanied by girlish derision, Tony was taken to the fun fair. Everyone seemed to be pointing and laughing at him. He was crushed and dejected. His mother and auntie continually chided him: “Mince more prettily, Susan, or you will be spanked on your little satin bottom right here in public.”

In absolute shame Tony began to take girlish steps, knowing his tormentors would have the opportunity to raise his dress and give him a good spank there and then.

As the morning wore on he became numb with shock and humiliation. He was released from his aunt’s hands and allowed to walk girlishly between the two women. Then he’d to go on the fun-fair rides!

Julie’s friends offered to take him on a whirling chair ride.

“Do I have to?” he pleaded.

“Yes, Susan. We’ll watch!” The girls sat either side of him — Tony’s hands firmly on the safety bar before him. “Whoosh” they were off. And the boy’s frilly, flimsy skirts blew up and down on his thighs. They felt so soft and silky, it completely unnerved him — and he couldn’t hold them down at all. His knickers were on view to a growing crowd of laughing females.

In tears, he was taken into the Fun House, but it was no fun for him. His skirts were raised by wind-holes while he struggled desperately to hold them down — his hands pressing the chiffon and satin against his bare thighs and satin knickers. ‘Oh why did it feel so hands behind him, a pretty, punished. boy in ribbons and bows — staring in horror at his blonde tresses, ribbons, girl’s socks and frilly skirts, the rustling and soft caresses from which were a constant reminder of his girlish ordeal of shame. Soon he would be outside agaIn as a girl — he’d be Iaughed at, ridiculed, and the giggles and taunts of the girls that morning haunted and terrified him, and troubled his passions. It was unbelievable, and yet he listened to his mother and aunt discussing his future.

He was to be a perfect little sister for Julie and Karen whenever they desired, and play any games that they wanted.  Julie giggled loudly — she found it great fun seeing the boy suffer so in petticoats. She disappeared from the room and returned with a pram and a doll. Tony saw them in the mirror and his eyes welled up again with tears.

“Susan, you can take your dolly out shortly, with the pram of course,” said his mother. “That’ll make you feel nice and little girlish!” Aunt Carol laughed at his crestfallen face. “Now do you believe you’re going to be a girl, Susan? When we’re through with you, you’ll be a sweet little penitent girlish angel.” Tony sobbed. He didn’t want to be a girl! He didn’t want to wear pretty dresses, petticoats and knickers! He felt so girlish, so humiliated! Why did everyone want to turn him into a little girl?

He was again dragged to the door, protesting desperately. He now had a doll and a little doll's pram — he was being dressed and treated as a little girl. The cool breeze blew up his dress again and the women laughed. Julie giggled at his scarlet, ashamed face. Tony faced further ridicule and humiliation, a living doll to be dressed in the frilliest of dresses and girlish underwear, then displayed for feminine amusement

“I don’t like being a girl.” she sobbed in vain, again. But he knew there would be no escape now, he faced ages of absolute humiliation at the hands of Julie and Karen, who just loved to see him squirm and writhe in his hated frilly petticoats, ribbons, and girlish attire. He would never tease or annoy girls again.

‘Susan’
Preston, Lancs.

Susan's petticoat punishment stories were quite famous examples of the genre. This is the second that I have published; the first was     Tony's Humiliation in Frilly Petticoats, beautifully illustrated by Paul. There is also a letter, 'Enforced Petticoating', in which Susan discusses petticoat punishment in general. I have a couple more stories somewhere, which I will publish in the future.