This story was kindly sent in by Panty, who has made some brilliant contributions over the past year. It was written by 'Susan' of Lancashire, whose petticoat punishment tales were first published in the 1970s. Her 'heroes' in these stories were invariably named Tony. Susan was also the author of the letter
'Enforced Petticoating' in the May issue.

The ancient rhyme mentioned when Tony is on the float was, as many of my readers woulf know, inspired by the Great Plague of the fourteenth century. This cataclysmic event was ultimately caused by the bizarre belief, still current well after the Dark Ages, that cats were instruments of the Devil. The Church ordered them killed whenever possible, and in consequence there were few left to guard the village granaries.

Famine swept over Europe due to the grain shortage, and concurrently the numbers of rats and mice, feeding on the unprotected grain, increased without limit. It was the Oriental black rat, which had been introduced into Europe by Marco Polo, which carried the deadly plague bacillus. The already weakened population died in numbers which reduced the population of Europe to less than half of what it had been previously. It was, so to speak, the 'nuclear holocaust' of its day, and cats were left alone after that, although they are still the subject of absurd superstitions.

I should warn readers that subtlety was not Susan's strong suit: her tales always involve almost unendurable humiliations for the poor victim. Stll, this is probably a good part of the reason why her narratives are still regarded as petticoat punishment classics. Adults and children alike are always warned against eating too much rich food at once, but I suppose that Christmas is always an exception.

I should note here that the stories in this edition are a special treat for the Christmas Annual. The usual policy of the magazine being primarily for letters concerning the imposition of petticoat discipline, with discussion by me and any readers who care to contribute, will continue.

Tony was thoroughly bored with all the talk and fuss of it all! The annual town carnival of Prettyville was here again. And just like last year, and every year that he could remember, everything else seemed to take a back seat to arrangements for the various floats, the fancy dress competition, the stalls and side-shows. His mother spent weeks beforehand making costumes for her nieces and for Karen, his younger sister, now thirteen, just a year different from himself. At fourteen, Tony should have been starting to mature into a sensible young man, but unfortunately he wasn't, driving his mother and sister to desperation measures. As his father had left the home years before for another woman, Tony had lacked a firm hand to control his exhuberance and boyish teenage spirits. Nothing seemed to bother him - lazy at home, insolent and cheeky, and at school he was often in trouble and failed to achieve any success educationally. Today was another boring day for the boy, sprawled in the armchair watching television as his mother and sister
chatted behind him.

'Can't you find something else to discuss?' he grumbled as the subject once again was the impending carnival. 'Non players can get off the green', replied Karen smartly. 'If you don't want to join in, you can keep out of it'.

'Now, stop it you two,' said their mother. 'You are like two little kids at times!'

'It's him'. said Karen. 'Always criticising. He ought to be in it'. She fluffed out the silky party dress she was ironing and said 'You're such a spoilsport. Why don't you enter the fancy dress like I am doing?'

'No costume; that's why not', replied Tony, looking for any excuse.

'You could wear this', grinned Karen holding up the dress.

'Not bloody likely - you'd never get me into a dress', he said loudly, and with that stormed out of the room. There was silence for a few moments, then Karen said. 'Mum, did you see Tony's face when I suggested he wear a dress? He acted tough - but he was scared, really scared! I'd love to make him eat his words and get him into a dress! Imagine Tony dolled up in a dress like this'. She giggled. 'Can't you just see him walking down the road in the carnival in a pretty frilly dress like this, ribbons and things?'

'It might do him good', replied her mother. 'He needs to be taught a lesson, that's for certain. Do you know, sometimes boys do get dressed as girls as a punishment, and I've heard it can be very effective!'

'Oh, Mum, you're not serious, are you?' cried Karen incredulousIy. 'You'd not dress Tony up as a girl, would you?' The idea suddenly seemed very appealing to her, she didn't know why, but the idea of her tough brother forced  to wear girlish clothes seemed quite exciting. Tony and Karen's mother, Mrs Kane, found it more than appealing. It might bring about a change in his behaviour and certainly, nothing else had worked. She spent some time mulling the idea over in her mind, and decided that if she were to go ahead and punish Tony in such a way, she'd need help, and she knew her sister Linda would help for sure. Linda had three girls herself, and had always let it be known she disliked boys and given a choice, would have a world of little girls with no boys at all.

Linda was amazed, however, when the suggestion was put to her that Tony be girlified, and couldn't stop laughing for several seconds, then she became serious, and with a glint of steel in her eyes said, 'Yes, I will enjoy helping you turn that nasty boy into a girl!'

Tony didn't know what all the secret giggling and laughter was all about during the next few days, nor why his Auntie Linda was at the house so much. He was heartily sick of the whole carnival by now, and at his most objectionable. At least it would soon be over!
On the morning of the Carnival he awoke and noticed the sun streaming in through the window. 'Pity it's not raining', he thought. 'It'd be quite fun if it rained and everybody got wet through in all their finery'. He moved over to the chair, over which he had draped his clothes the. previous night. They weren't there, and in annoyance he went out of his room and shouted, 'Where are my things, when did you take them? I need them'.

His mother shouted up. 'I'll bring them up', and giving a look of delight to Linda and Karen, took hold of a pile of frilly, shiny clothing, and with the other two in close pursuit marched up the stairs and into Tony's room. He was too impolite to look up even, then he said, 'Ok, I'm not dressing with you here'.

'Oh, yes, you are' said his mother. 'From now on you will do as you are told. There's changes for you my boy'.

'What changes?' asked Tony moodily, and for the first time looked up - to see the mass of pretty clothing on his mother's arms. His eyes opened wide as she said, 'Well for a start, you are going to be dressed as a girl'.

Tony couldn't believe it - him, dressed as a soppy girl! Never! They were crazy! They'd never dare do that to him. But they'd got the clothes - there were also three of them. Suddenly he felt a cold shiver of alarm go through him.

'Dress up as a girl? You must be mad. Who do you think I am?'

'Tony at the moment', replied his Auntie Linda 'but you'll have a new name of course. We've decided to call you 'Susan' from now on'.

Tony couldn't believe it. This must be a joke. A girl's name? Girls' clothes! at his age? Boys of fourteen just did not get dressed up in skirts!

'Susan, you better start doing as you 're told, girl!' said his mother sternly. 'Take off your pyjamas. We've not much time before the procession begins'.

'Procession! What procession?' cried Tony, confused and alarmed. These women certainly did seem serious about dressing him up as a girl. He looked at Karen for support, then wished he hadn't, for she began to giggle, then said amidst her titters, 'You really are going to be a girl, Susan, and you are in today's procession - everybody will see you in girls' clothes!' She really was going to enjoy seeing him dressed in that way.

'Leave me alone, I tell you' said Tony, now really afraid. 'I'm not going to be a stupid girl, so get that into your thick heads!'. Suddenly a sharp crack landed on his thigh and he shrank back with pain. It was a shock that he should actually be struck - he'd never been so before. And what right had Linda to strike him, and with what? A whippy cane! Oh no, they meant business. They couldn't, wouldn't make him into a girl, would they?

'I'll not tell you again. Undress at once or you'll be caned harder next time!'

'No! please', cried the boy and pulled off his pyjamas, standing there naked before his sister and the two women. He was desperate now, pleading -'No! Please don't do this to me. I'll be different, I'll behave from now on, but please, Mum, Auntie, don't do this to me - I don't want to be a girl!'

'It'll do you good to wear girls' clothes for a while' said his mother. 'Come on, or you'll get caned again. This isn't a game, you know!'

'I know it isn't' Tony answered miserably. 'Oh, help me someone. I don't want to be a girt, I don't, I don't!' His Auntie held before him a dancing pair of  frilly girls' knickers. 'Step into these', he was told. Nearly crying now, Tony did as he was told, and his aunt pulled them slowly up his legs, past his knees, and up his thighs, settling them in place. He'd felt embarrassed when naked, but he flushed now as the flimsy garment clung to his body. But worse was to come - a nylon vest edged in lace, then Karen took picked up a frilly petticoat. Tony looked at it in horror! Surely they wouldn't put that on him. It rustled and shimmered, soft silk and taffeta layers each deeply flounced and frilly, yards of glistening white sensual material. He meekly obeyed his mother's command to stand still, then he gave an involuntary shudder as cool, slippery layers of silk and taffeta fell over him. He had it adjusted at the waist and the short, thigh-length skirt slid provocatively over his flimsy knickers and carressed his naked boyish thighs. Each move caused new, sensual sensations as the swirly skirts of his gorgeous petticoats swished around his legs and slid between his legs. He seemed to be enveloped in slippery silk, but it was only swaying around a small part of his body.
 
'Isn't it lovely on him', cried Karen in genuine admiration. 'It's beautiful!'

'Yes, and you'd better look after your pretty clothes, Susan, or you will be spanked in them! Understand, girl?'  Tony wanted to yell out that he wasn't a girl, but he didn't dare. Already his boyish bravado was disappearing. The girlish sensations around him had an unnerving effect on him. Yet he hated the awful clothes. His dress was a childish, old-fashioned party dress with cute puff sleeves, a round neck, tight bodice, then a short full skirt that billowed out over his petticoats. It was soft pink chiffon, three layers that floated around his thighs so light and flimsy were they. A light blue satin sash was tied around his waist and a huge bow tied behind. Knee length white socks and girls' sandals completed his dressing.

Tony stood there stunned. He couldn't believe it was really happening. Here he was, dressed like a little girl! With a girls' name, and about to be paraded as a girl in public! He felt tears in his eyes. He didn't want to cry before his sister, but he was very frightened and embarrassed now.

'Well, Susan, are you not a pretty little girl?' teased Auntie Linda.

'I hate it! Please, don't go through with this. I'll do anything for you, but don't make me keep these clothes on. I want to be a boy again!' His voice was nearly choked. 'Why have you dressed me like a child? Why like this?'

'To really make you feel girlish. The clothes are new to you, the materials you will find strange because of their softness. It's a new life for you - as a girl! And you can't be a teenage girl until you have proved to us you can first be a good little girl. Understand? Only by being obedient, acting in a girlish, simpering way, can you hope to be treated in an older, more mature manner'.

I look ridiculous. Look at me!'

'Oh yes, your hair. We've haven't put on your wig yet, have we?' A lovely wig of blonde hair was fastened to his head, and a full fringe combed out. The long hair fell softly either side of his face, onto his shoulders. A pink satin ribbon was tied in it - and Tony was now a little girl of six!

'You look like a big doll', teased Karen.

'You shut up', retorted her brother weakly.

'Don't you dare speak to your sister like that!' his mother intervened. 'Apologise at once, or I'll spank you here and now'.

Tony had never apologised to his sister before! Here he was, in a frilly pink dress and rustling petticoats, long blonde hair tied in a satin ribbon, having to apologise to his little sister. But he didn't want to give the little vixen the pleasure of seeing him spanked...he
knew she'd just love to see him thrashed in his pretty clothes. He muttered 'I'm sorry, Karen'.

A feeling of power swept over the teenage girl. This was indeed sweet revenge for the dreadful way he'd treated her in the past.
She knew how to control him now - he didn't want to be punished! Certainly not in his pretty baby frilliesl Tonys misery grew as his mother and sister ordered him to walk back and forth across the room. His swishing silk skirts rustled and danced up and down, back and forth over his thighs. It was so girlish, so soft - he was learning, the painful way, the delicious sensuality of silk, satin and chiffon. And his tormentors were laughing at him.

'That's right, Susan. Turn quickly - we may even get a glimpse of your knickers. It's lovely to see how your dress swirls around'.

It wasn't lovely for the teenage boy, as he was forced to twirl around in his swirling skirts. He felt his legs cool as the air was allowed around his thighs, then as he stopped, layers of silk and taffeta fell rustling and slithering softly back onto his naked thighs. Tears of shame formed in his eyes as his female tormentors ridiculed him.

'You big soft girl', laughed Auntie Linda. 'Soon, everybody will see you like that. You are on a float with other girls, where everyone can see you'.

'No! No! Don't send me out', cried Tony in terror. 'Not like this - not as a girl.' He gave an anguished cry, and suddenly the tears and sobs flowed. 'Oh, no, have mercy on me - sob! Please; Auntie, Mum, Karen, I'm a boy - sob - not a girl - sob, sob. Don't let anybody else see me. I'll die'.

'Oh no, you won't die at all. You'll just wish you could! laughed Auntie Linda, her dislike of males clearly evident. 'You'll be there in all your pretties, Susan - and all around you, girls jeering at you and mocking you'.

This had the desired effect, for Tony flung himself on to a chair and sobbed wildly, 'I'll do anything for you, but please -sob - please don't take me out as-as-a-g-girl'.

'Get up, you silly cry baby. You are going out. You're so pretty I think everybody should see you'. Even Tony's mother was revelling in it now. How different he was from the scruffy, cheeky, insolent son she had lived with all these years! He was dragged to his feet and pulled down the stairs crying and pleading piteously. His terror was understandable, a boy of fourteen, dressed in a pink frilly dress and frothy petticoats like a little girl, being put on show for the amusement of all. He'd be a laughing stock - not just then, but for a long time to come. What worse punishment was there, than to be deprived of his male clothing and pursuits, and forced, against his will, to dress and act like a little girl in view of his home town? It was a humiliation to break any boy's rebellious spirit! Petticoat punishment!

The door was shut. Beyond it lay the open air and Tony's torment. He tried to grip the carpet with his sandals, but his mother and aunt, each holding an arm firmly, pulled him, struggling furiously, towards the door. Karen rushed to open it.

'Get him outside and shut the door quickly', said his mother. Tony's breath came in stifled sobs No, no', he moaned in anguish, but to no avail. His female tormentors were eager to expose him to even greater ridicule and shame. Bang. The door closed behind and Tony began to struggle less, as he realised that to do so would only attract even more attention. Down the path, through the gate, onto the pavement ouside.

'There's a good little girl', teased Auntie Linda. 'Struggling like that will do you no good at all'.

'Why don't you pretend it's all for fun as its Carnival Day?' suggested Karen helpfully, but in her heart she was hoping to see her brother act so girlishly he'd make a fool of himself.

But Tony could see sense in the suggestion, and feeling utterly silly, began to mince girlishly along. His heart quickened as he saw two girls, his own age, standing at a gateway chatting idly. He recognised them as two girls from his school, and prayed he wouldn't be recognised. They looked in amusement as the four approached, and especially at Tony, looking like an overgrown baby doll.

'Oh, God - look at that. It's a lad,' one cried out in disbelief.

'Oh! It is! You're right, Sharon'. Then she yelled, 'I know him. He's at our school - it's Tony Kane - oh, what a scream!' She called out loudly to the boy as he passed, head hung in embarrassment, 'Hiya Tony - like your dress, can I borrow it sometime?' The boy hurried on, to the shrieks of laughter from the two girls. Each step was a nightmare! His silk petticoats rustled loudly as the cool breeze blew his soft dress and frilly underwear around him. It created frightening girlish sensations and unnerved Tony even more. If he'd worn a cotton shirt or jumper, it wouldn't have been as bad, but the silk, and flimsy, frilly clothes he'd been dressed in, were so light, soft and filmy, it was nearly unbearable. And Karen, his sister, was revelling in his predicament.

'Mind your dress doesn't blow up, Susan', she teased. 'What if everyone saw your pretty knickers?' This thought had occurred to Tony, and every time his skirts blew lightly up, he began to grab them just like any girl. This caused all the females to burst out laughing. Tony was near to tears, so humiliated did he feel.

Soon the party arrived at the procession, and it was far more crowded as teams of girls in Morris Dancer's costumes, bands, and men, women and children on floats prepared for the start. Past a 'gypsy' float, and then came to one titled 'Party-time!' He looked up to see about half a dozen girls dressed in pretty dresses, surrounding a large celebration cake adorned with candles.

'Here we are, Susan. This is your float. Come on now, climb up'. Tony was pushed onto the float. He felt so alone, yet only feet away were the others in pretty dresses - only they were real girls! Then one blonde girl noticed his arrival and shouted 'Hey, he's here. Oh, look at him - just lool at that!' The girls needed no invitation! They rushed over to him, laughing and giggling.

'Oh, knickers, have a look at Little Miss Pansy Pants!'

'Look at that dress - it's lovely!'

'He's really been done up, hasn't he?'

'It suits you! Hey, girlie, what's your name? Come on sweetie'. Karen watched in sadistic delight as her young friends crowded around.

'Go on, tell them your new name, or I'll tell Mum you refused.'

'No! Please don't make me', Tony pleaded as the girls stared in disbelief at his frothy attire.

'Tell them', said his sister menacingly.

'It's . . it's . . .' the girls chanted impatiently, 'It's . . S-Susan', he blurted out. There were shreIks of laughter, then chants of 'Susan! Susan! Susan!' all around him. Suddenly he felt a girl pull up his dress 'No! No! Get away from me!' he cried in alarm.

'Get his arms, Diane', shouted one big girl. 'Alison, hold him still'. Girls were all over him. Tony struggled, but it was too much to keep half a dozen big teenage girls at bay. He felt he would cry! No, not here - not in front of everyone.

'Oooh, you're hurting', he yelped as Diane pulled his arm painfully behind him. She grinned in glee. 'Go on, little girl. Tell your Mummy then. Diddums, does little girlie not like it? Have a little cry'. There were giggles around him as the others listened to her teasing.

'Get his dress up', cried one, and suddenly Tony's silky, shiny, petticoats were on view, rustling in their hands, slithering on his thighs girlishly as he squirmed in shame.

'Very pretty!' said one girl sarcastically. 'You are a real little dolly, aren't you?'

'Answer her!' ordered Karen, 'Or it'll be worse for you. Tell her you are a doll!'

Tony, now very near to tears stammered 'I am a doll', and felt faint with embarrassment.

'You're our doll now. We'll dress you up and take you out in a pram!' laughed one girl, then she cried 'Go on, Diane, hold him. I'm going to look at his knickers!'

Many times in his young life, Tony had got fun from seeing a girl's dress blow up and watch her coy shyness on holding down her skirt. He remembered too how he'd once chased a girl around the playground, trying to pull up her dress. Now he was a 'girl', and it wasn't fun anymore! He was frightened, ashamed - he didn't want his own knickers to be seen by these teasing girls. But Diane held him tight.

'Oh! Oh!' he cried as two of the girls pulled up his many rustling layers of froufrou skirts.

'They're pink!' cried one of the girls 'Pink for a girl!' Tony felt a tear fall onto his cheek. He felt so degraded, ridiculed by teenage girls. They were laughing at him - looking at his frilly pink girlie knickers, petticoats in disarray.

'He's crying!' yelled Karen. 'Cry baby Susie.' The girls took up the chant, 'Cry baby Susie, cry baby Susie!' They let his skirts fall down, with a rustle and swish onto his thighs. Tony cried, like a little girl, before them, utterly humiliated by these cruel girls! Could he ever forget the torment?

Diane, a pretty blonde, was obviously the ringleader and float organiser. 'Ok. We'll attend to him after as well. We'l! be off in a minute. Lets get ready!'

The girls flounced prettily around a table and sat down as if at a children's party. The large cake was in the centre. Tony was placed on a stool, his flimsy short dress resting softly on his thighs. The girls giggled at his frightened, tear stained face. They were enjoying making him suffer in his petticoats. The procession began. It was an utter nightmare for the boy. At first it wasn't so bad, as the girls all sat prettily by the table, then a record was switched on. It was 'Atishoo, Atishoo, We All Fall Down'. A girl took each hand and he was forced to skip like a little girl on the back of the lorry. His frilly short skirts bobbed up and down on his thighs, his petticoats rustling, sliding sensually over his knickers and bare legs, his flimsy dress blowing up and down in the breeze. Below, watching were crowds of people. Little girls and boys with their parents, but so many seemed to know of his masquerade. All Karen's friends on the route jeered and whistled in derision.

'Sissy, sissy,' he heard. 'Like your dress, girlie!' 'Give us a twirl!' 'Let's see your pretty panties!' Some girls began to run alongside, looking up his dress at all opportunities, laughing hysterically at the sight of his girlish knickers under his mass of frilly petticoats. On 'Atishoo', he'd to fall on a mass of silk and flounces onto the floor, skirts in disarray, whilst the girls stared in glee at his pretty attire and horrified face. The nightmare of the procession was soon at an end. But Tony had endured an ordeal he would remember always.

His nightmare was not a figment of a tortured imagination. This wasn't a nightmare one usually has at night. It was a girlish living hell - an ordeal by intense humiliation of a young teenage boy, ridiculed in petticoats and frilly dresses by hordes of screaming, giggling girls. Girls with an eager and keen mind for reducing their helpless victim to a state of abject shame and servility.

Off the float, the carnival began on the field. Auntie Linda now joined the party of girls escorting Tony around. Everyone stared and laughed. Nobody seemed to feel sorry for him - in fact, everyone seemed to think it great fun to parade a teenage boy around in public dressed in a little girls' dainty attire.

The party took him to the fair and Tony was forced to ride the roundabouts, the whip, the helter skelter. He felt his soft skirts blown up and had to hold them down, pressing the chiffon and silk against him, creating bizarre girlish sensations. The waltzer forced him to put both hands on the protective bar before him. As his dress and petticoats blew up to his waist, he heard a cacophany of derision from the watching girls, the cool air rushing up his skirts, exposing his silky panties to a rapt, laughing, audience. He was sobbing out loud as he was helped off, a pitiful state - every ounce of boyish rebellion gone. He was becoming a very passive girl - the treatment was beginning to take effect!

'Please - please - take me home. I'll do anything, but please - Mother - Auntie - Karen, anyone - let me be a boy again. I don't like being a girl - I don't - sob - sob - don't turn me into a girl. It makes me feel - funny!'

He got no sympathy. 'Funny? -girlish, you mean. But you are going to be a girl now. Your name is Susan! We like you as a girl - we're keeping you as a girl!'

'No! No! Mercy please! Mum, please don't do this to me. You can't keep me as a girl - you wouldn't!'

'Oh yes, Susan. We most certainly would! Get used to it, it's pretty clothes for you now and no more horrible trousers. You will get years of petticoat punishment for causing so much trouble for so long. You can learn to act like a girl now - a little girl!'

'Not a little girl! I feel absolutely ridiculous like this', 'Tony wailed.

'Good. We will turn you into a soppy child of six', said Auntie Linda. 'Come on, we've a lovely surprise for you now!'

She dragged the protesting youth along. He'd had enough surprises and didn't think this would be any better than the others he'd hated.

'Want a new subject?' Auntie Linda cried to a group of girls near a wooden contraption. 'I've one here for you'. and pointed to Tony who stood there, absolutely appalled.

'No! You wouldn't! he shrieked, as the girls rushed over, and dragged him crying in alarm to the contraption. A pillory!

Numb with terror, Tony was secured, his head in the hole, arms secured either side. He was helpless, a pretty punished thing of ribbons and silky skirts, petticoats and flounces, ruffles and bows. His skirts blew gently around his thighs, a gust blew them up again displaying his knickers. Laughter was all around him. But being thoroughly pilloried was only part of the torment. A tall girl yelled out 'One penny a throw', and for the first time Tony realised what was in store! To one side were plastic bags of cold water - they'd be thrown at him - as a girl!

He wriggled and squirmed. 'Can you not get free, Susan?' laughed Diane, still around and enjoying every minute of this. It crossed her mind to dress up her little brother as a girl some time. It was fun! There were soon many children waiting to spend their pennies to throw a bag of water at Tony in his frillies.

'Go on', said the lady in charge of the pillory to a young girl in black jeans and studded belt.

'How near can I get to the fairy?' she asked.

'Three yards - no nearer,' she was told. She advanced towards him and sneered 'You great big girl. I hope they keep you as a girl, you big drip!' and flung the bag at the writhing boy. Tony felt a squelch as it hit his chest, and a wet patch appeared on his dress. Oh, it was cold! The force of the water had forced it against his skin and it began to trickle down to his waist. He gave an involuntary squirm as it trickled down towards his knickers. This was awful! Another girl paid her money - her throw landed on his dress. Then another, and another. Each time one landed there was a cheer. Everyone wanted to wet him! And soon the slap! slap! slap! of the water-filled bags had a sticking effect. His bodice clung wetly to him, his pretty puff sleeved dress shining with the water. His dress was soon a sopping wet mass of chiffon, his silk and taffeta underskirts rustling loudly, glistening in the sun, the water now cascading over him, sending rivers of cold water pouring down his skirts, falling, dripping, down his legs. His knickers, once so soft, now felt soppy and cold around his body, the slippery petticoats slithering over his knickers as he wriggled and writhed in an ecstasy of shame and humiliation. He felt his senses were leaving him... Tony was sobbing...girls were laughing. Every slap of water resulted in cries for mercy and girlish writhing, to no avail, as the cold water dribbled through Tony's flimsy petticoats.

The Diane got a plastic hairbrush from her handbag, and, turning back his skirts to reveal his soaking wet knickers, began to paddle his bottom. 'It's tuppence if you want a go!' she cried out merrily.

'Ok. He's had enough', said his mother. There were cries of 'No! leave him there to drip dry', and 'Let's fling him in the pool', but to Tony's relief, he was unshackled.

'Oooh, you are soaked, aren't you?' laughed Karen. 'Who's a soppy little girl now, mmm...? It had been a day of revenge for her, and she would enjoy all that was to follow too!

Tony was led home at last, crying pitifully, now completely oblivious to his boyish image. 'Baby's wet his panties', teased a girl, giggling behind him. Tony let the waves of derision and contempt overcome him.

Crying, he pleaded 'Please let me be a boy again. I've been punished enough now, haven't I?'

'Shut up, Susan, you stupid girl, unless you want another spanking'. Karen gave a cry of delight. ' Would you spank him? Oh, please, can I give him a smack too?'

'We'll see, Karen'.

At this Tony shrieked 'No! Don't let her spank me. I couldn't stand that, I just couldn't!'

They were now home and Tony was sent with Karen to the bathroom where she began to remove his sodden dress and dripping, wet petticoats. He stood there, mortified, as his own sister undressed him like a baby.

'You are going to be a girl, you know. We don't like boys here anymore. You'e going to wear girls' clothes every single day!' Tony could take it no more. He aimed a blow at Karen, and as she ducked, caught her a blow on her arm.

'Right!' Karen stormed. 'You're for it now. I'm telling Mummy', and ran out of the room. Within seconds she was back with Auntie Linda and her mother.

'Susan hit me! she hit me!' Karen cried. The look on the boy's face told of his guilt.

'Come with me, Susan.' said his mother. 'I thought it might come to this. First, before I spank you, we'll put some new clothes on you'. She dragged him to Karen's room. He stood in alarm. 'I'm sorry. I am sorry. Please forgive me Karen', he pleaded.

'Ok, Susan, we'll leave it to your sister! Karen, do you want Susan to be let off this time, or do you want her to be given a good spanking?'

'I think he deserves a spanking', said Karen, her face downcast and pretending to be hurt.

'Very good, Karen' said Auntie Linda. 'You are learning fast. I think we may be able to let you have him as your dolly to do with as you wish one day soon'. Karen smiled - she'd like that - punish him, dress him in girls' clothes, make him act as a plaything for her friends' amusement. What a beautiful revenge!

Auntie Linda then took a new set of girls' clothes from a cupboard. If Tony had expected anything less girlish and feminine, he would have been disappointed. A silk, lace trimmed vest and white satin knickers with pink frills. Tony shuddered as he put them on under his tormenter's stern view. His petticoat had a flounced underlayer of silky taffeta, and then six diaphanous floaty, flimsy layers of white soft chiffon. It was very full, the soft layers floated around his thighs, caressing them gently, giving his totally defeated mind the effect of being in a gossamer cloud of floating, filmy material.

His dress was also white, but smooth white satin with a short full skirt, puffed sleeves edged in lace and a round neck with a sissy Peter Pan collar. The bodice fitted silkily across his chest and the nipped in waist was encircled with a broad band of lilac satin which was tied behind in a huge girlish bow. A lilac satin hair ribbon was tied on his wig. White socks and girls' white shoes completed the shimmering, silky outfit. Tony was positively afraid! What were these women trying to do to him. Yesterday a teenage boy, now a 'girl', clad in silks and satin. In a trance Tony was led to the spare room and on entering let out a cry of horror.

'Please, mercy', he whimpered in terror. 'Please don't spank me. Please. I'll be a girl even, but don't spank me like this!'

'Too late, Susie. You will learn to be an obedient little girl! Obeying every command for our amusement. We aren't going to spank you yet - not until our guests come!'

'Guests!' cried Tony 'What guests?'

'Shut up now, or I'll tie you up in the front garden all day tomorrow! With your skirts up too'. Tony knew she'd not hesitate to heap such an indignity on him. In fact, any hint at all and he knew these women would revel in torturing him so. He shivered in terror as the minutes past, then there was a ring at the door.

'I'll let them in', cried Karen and rushed out. Soon Tony heard footsteps and three girls entered. Tony didn't recognise them, but they were some of Karen's girlfriends, whom he had always studiously ignored.

You are going to be the girls' pretty baby doll from now on, and you must be a nice dolly and do exactly what they say', said his Aunt Linda. 'Now girls, afternoon tea is ready, so lets leave little Susan, and chat about exactly how we are going to play with her'.

Karen was last to leave. She was pretty - his little sister. She smiled sweetly and giggled. 'Oh, you poor thing. You really are going to be made into an obedient, well behaved little girl now, aren't you? It's old fashioned 'petticoat punishment' for you, Susan, for years to come. I hope you hate every minute of being a girl. I bet you won't though - you big sissy!' she added as an afterthought. 

She closed the door. To be talked to like that by his little sister...Tony stared at himself. Dressed as a girl, in petticoats! Girls' frilly petticoats, knickers, and satin party dress. He was to be turned into a little girl baby doll....