Author Topic: The POWER of Determined Females! (Read 6437 times)

Patti59 · « **Reply #15 on:** January 22, 2022, 10:27:28 am »

Another Letter from the September 2006 PDQ. It is always so wonderful to see how a mother improves her son through Feminization!

PAMPERED AND PERMED

Dear Susan,

My story is a long and very complicated one. I was brought up by two women, my mother and a close friend of hers. I was first petticoated by my mother’s friend as a punishment for not doing my homework.

This was five years ago when I was nine, but I looked like I was six because of the clothes they picked out for me. And, yes, I was the ‘girl’ who cried in front of the queen on her visit! Now I don’t know about you but being on national television in a dress is quite embarrassing for a nine year old boy, but it seemed to be a one-off punishment.

Then, two years ago, it became a very regular thing. On Saturday we were invited to the birthday party of a friend of my mum's. The only problem was, it was a girls’ night of pampering, make up and perming. As I was 12y, and my mum was strict, she decided she couldn't leave me alone in the house while they went out. They tried to get a babysitter but no-one seemed to be free. Then, my mother and her friend went for a talk in the bedroom. I sat on the landing for what seemed like ages until they came out. I asked them what was happening and I was informed:

"You’re going to come with us as a girl and be pampered. Won't you like that?"

As it turned out, I didn’t, and I threw a tantrum on the spot, to which my mother responded quickly. She dragged me into her room and undressed me. They she put a slip and blouse on me and ordered me to stay still. She then produced a baby blue petticoat and a very short kilt skirt and forced me into them, and my mother’s friend tied tufts of my hair into lots of bunches.

"Now you have two options. One, you let us dress you up nicely and come with us, or two, you come dressed like that."

To me it seemed like I only had one option. I quietly agreed to being dressed up. I didn’t have long hair so they just parted it a bit girlishly. They then lead me to their wardrobe and picked out a large petticoat, a massive padded bra, and a big flowery frock. They dressed me like this, took some photos of me, and we left.

After five hours of being pampered and made-over I felt a lot easier towards being dressed up as a girl. I told them this, and so that hallowe’en they put together a special outfit with a big floaty skirt, a ‘peasant’ cotton petticoat, and a floaty top. My mother then decided that I should live as a girl, because she had always wanted a daughter.

Now my hair is down to just past my shoulders, and beautifully curled. I am dressed as a girl at all times. As I type this I am wearing a long blue summer dress with yellow flowers, and a built-in fake corset, blue high heels, and my legs and armpits are hairless and smoother than smooth.

I have a slight smell of body spray made by L'Oreal and my long hair is tied in two equal French plaits down either side of my head. I have blue eye-shadow, and light pink lipstick applied by myself, and a little bit of mascara by my mother. I am now called Chloe, rather than Charles. Even my close friends couldn’t tell I'm not a girl. And I feel so much more comfortable in these clothes. Thank you for all the encouragement your site has given me.
Love and kisses,

Chloe

Patti59 · « **Reply #16 on:** January 22, 2022, 10:39:08 am »

This Letter is from the October 2006 Edition of PDQ, and it relates another story of a Mother that created a Sissy out of her son! It is so Encouraging when we see Mothers encouraging male Femininity!

FOND MEMORIES OF PETTICOATING

Dear Susan:

I have many, many fond memories of my mother petticoating me. I was the only child of a single mother, and from the time I reached puberty around age 12y my mother began to dress me in panties and girls’ clothing. My initial objection was overcome with several smacks to my bottom.

Since I was already a rather submissive boy, I adjusted very quickly to my new clothing and soon, with school out, I was spending all my days dressed in frilly pink panties and bra, and frilly pink or lavender dresses. A little make-up, and with my long hair, one would have had to look very closely to see I was not a girl.

It wasn't long before Mother began to display me to a circle of her lady friends, who were astounded by my transformation. When one of her friends asked Mother if I enjoyed being in dresses, she smiled and confirmed that I was very much a sissy, and loved every moment. Even though I blushed crimson, she was quite right

In fact the women and my mother at that time decided my new name should be ‘Sissy’, and they delighted in addressing me as Sissy, the name to which I responded. Future visits involved my mother's friends bringing over several pairs of frilly panties and nighties as presents. They also brought several dolls as gifts, and I delighted in playing with the dolls in their presence as they chatted and looked on.

Soon other girls, many younger than I, were brought over to the house by Mother's friends to play with me, and eventually all would find out that I wasn't really a girl. Soon even the younger girls took control of me, and I had to do whatever they wanted, and play all the games that they enjoyed playing. I was everyone's sissy, and I enjoyed it.

I would get a spanking on the seat of my panties if I was not co-operative with my little girl friends. Usually that wasn't necessary, as I enjoyed wearing the soft panties and nighties, and pink frilly sissy dresses, and my submissive role.

After a few weeks I ventured outside the house for various outings to malls and parks with my mother and her friends, and some of the girls, and while I was very apprehensive, I knew they would not allow any harm to come to me. In fact I still remember going trick-or-treating as a fairy princess, and receiving many compliments on my outfit. as people placed candy in the purse I was carrying.

I have many more memories that I could write about, but will leave it at that for now.

Alex

Patti59 · « **Reply #17 on:** January 22, 2022, 10:41:47 am »

Another Letter from October 2006 and another Mother's Success!

MARY JANES AND T-BARS

Dear Susan,

Thank you so very much for your wonderful publication. Reading the letters gives a petticoat-trained sissy like me a place to feel in good company. I loved the letter from Suzanne. She is giving her thirteen year old son a great gift by training him every day.

I too was trained from about thirteen when my mother caught me wearing her high heels, panties, girdle, and nylons. Although I was never allowed to wear her clothes again, I was forced into my own girls’ things. I was put in open-bottom girdles and panties, nylons, bras, and the most beautiful age-appropriate girls’ flats and low heels. Mary Jane and T-strap flats were my favorite. some even had bows. I was instructed in house cleaning and doing dishes, and my reward for a job well done was to hand wash my mother’s girdles, nylons, and panties. As a special treat I was allowed to clean her shoes and arrange then just so in her closet.

Thankfully I required little discipline while dressed. But on occasion her shoes would not be spotless, or not perfectly aligned in the closet. Then the punishment was always the same. A boys’ shirt and pants were put on over my girls’ undies, and then very noticeable girls’ shoes, such as white patent T-straps, were placed on me and I would be taken out for public humiliation. We would go girls’ shoe shopping, including trying them on, or maybe to the grocery store or out to lunch or dinner. I learned to love and hate the smiles and stares when people noticed my shoes. I am grateful for the discipline today, because it helped me accept what a pansy male I am.

Even after I graduated from college and moved out, I was required to dress when ever my mother visited. Today I wear panty-hose, or a girdle and nylons, with panties and a bra, as well as girls’ shoes all the time. I always try on the women’s shoes, and shop in large department stores. I admit some of the tennis shoes and loafers are not too noticeable, so sometimes I don wedge heels or regular heels and go out just to feel the humiliation again.

John

Patti59 · « **Reply #18 on:** January 22, 2022, 10:53:29 am »

Here is a Letter from the November 2006 Edition of PDQ from Rachel! Rachel is assuredly a New Age Lifestyle Woman! It is so Nice to see not only Rachel's Control over her husband, but also the Control that his Mother and Sister had over him as well! This is a Great Example of Female Power!

THE CHARMS OF A FEMININE HUBBIE

Dear Susan,

I would like to add my comments to the letter from Mrs Jane Anderson about her relationship with Pansy Pamela and her lack of sexual interest in a male who wants to dress as a little girl.

I am very happily married to what PDQ would describe as an effeminate male called Claire, and was attracted to her feminine and submissive qualities from the very beginning. We first met ten years ago, when Claire was 28y and I was 22y, at a fancy dress party. My husband-to-be was dressed as a ballerina in white tights and a very frilly pink tutu, and had come with ‘her’ younger sister Emily who was 21y and dressed as a male ballet dancer.

Interestingly, I too was in male attire as an English Civil War cavalier, with my male date dressed similarly. There were two other men dressed as girls, but Claire was easily the prettiest and most convincing, although she looked far from happy. Emily appeared to completely dominate her elder brother and made Claire do pirouettes and curtseys while taking great delight in telling everyone that her sibling was a transvestite who enjoyed dressing as a girl. We all laughed while Claire blushed and demurely lowered her eyes with embarrassment. Despite my giggles I was captivated.

A few days later I was able to get Claire’s phone number and rang her for a date. She sounded very nervous on the phone, and said she would call me back which she did later that evening to accept my invitation. I later found out that she had asked her mother for permission to see me before returning my call. Her concerned mummy telephoned me the next day and, sounding remarkably serious, told me that her ‘precious little boy’ had to be home by 10.30pm. A few days later I collected my timid child at 7pm and had her back home with his doting mummy and dominating sister by the specified curfew.

My new boyfriend had all the right qualities - he was pretty with an attractive shyness and extremely meek and mild, whereas I was, and still am, dominant and assertive. He was also completely sexually inexperienced. I soon realised that he was totally subjugated by his mother and Emily, and really did enjoy dressing as a girl. Mummy had discovered his cross-dressing desires when he was 16y and had encouraged him to wear girls’ clothes as it made him more compliant and passive. He was effectively a housemaid at home, and I often saw him dressed in one of several maids’ uniforms waiting upon Mummy and Emily. He also dressed as a little girl, and had been seen like this and as a maid, by friends of his mother and sister.

We married in church a year later, in a small quiet service with few guests, and where Claire promised to love, serve, honour, and obey (the vicar was surprisingly happy to do this). I had even contemplated having Claire wear a white wedding dress to denote her virginity with me dressed as the groom, but decided it would create too many problems.

Since then Claire has been my housemaid and my darling little girl. She addresses me as ‘Mummy’ all the time in the house and is completely under my control. She looks so pretty in her little girl frocks and frilly panties and petticoats, with childish white lace ankle socks and little girl shoes. I love tying ribbons in her hair and flouncing up her petticoats and dresses so she looks the perfect little miss.

I have taught her to please me in bed, and she is the most gentle loving creature one could imagine. I insisted that she kept her virginity until we married, so she was terribly nervous on our honeymoon, but gradually I was able to get her to relax and follow my tuition. Unlike Mrs Anderson I am unquestionably sexually attracted to my little girl, as she is to me. Her feminine qualities of love, devotion, obedience and modesty are extremely alluring. She is psychologically and emotionally totally dependent upon me. During the week she wears her male clothes and goes to work, but at home she is Mummy’s happy little girl playing with her dolls and skipping rope, and doing the housework in one of her many gorgeously girlie pinnies.

At night I put her in a child’s pretty nightdress and take her in my arms for bedtime kisses and cuddles. She always sleeps with one of her many dolls, and delightfully sucks her thumb. She knows that Mummy will always be there to love and look after her.

I cannot believe I am the only lady in the world who prefers her husband to be soft and feminine rather than macho and hard.

Keep up the good work, Susan.
Yours sincerely,

Rachel

Patti59 · « **Reply #19 on:** January 22, 2022, 11:00:47 am »

Another Letter from the November 2006 Edition. It is so Delightful to see how Dominant Women Take Control of their husbands! This is TRUE Female POWER!

MY FATE IS SEALED

Dear Susan,

I absolutely adore your site. I found it by accident when searching for information about forced feminization and petticoating, as I am now in the position of having to wear women's clothing almost all of the time as a consequence of a special party which was organized by one of my wife's friends, and which I will tell you more about shortly.

I have to say, after initially rebelling, that I have come to terms with my situation and simply adore the humiliation that I am subjected to by my wife. Over time I have learned to love the very garments that I was essentially forced to wear. It is no second nature to walk around the house fully dressed in stockings, suspenders, silky panties, bra with silicon breasts, slip, heel shoes, either a shift dress or a nice silky blouse, with a skirt and, last but not least, make-up.

I hadn't realized at the time when I married my wife that she wished to be the dominant person in the relationship. This became apparent after a Christmas party that was hosted by one of her closest friends, Melanie. My wife and I are relatively well off, and we socialize with like-minded business people, some of whom like to stray away from what might be considered normal day-to-day behavior. The girls had got together some six months before the party was due to take place to decide what the theme would be, and to give people time to prepare. The theme of the party was that the wives would attend as men, and their husbands would attend as women. Melanie decided to offer a very expensive prize (a two-week holiday in Barbados) to the most presentable couple.

That evening, was the start of my world being turned upside down. You can imagine that when my wife broached the subject with me I categorically refused. She then mentioned that all our friends would be participating, and it would not look good if we did not do the same. After having my arm metaphorically twisted, I relented, and said I would co-operate.

It all started off fairly low-key and innocently …

Claire took me to our bedroom and explained what I would need to do. She asked me to try on some stockings, with a suspender belt and panties, just to see how they would feel and look. When she saw my hairy legs she made it quite clear that the hair would have to go. By the end of that evening I was hairless apart from the hair on my head. I was subjected to a daily regime of having to shave my legs and under my arms, as well as wear stockings and lingerie under my normal work clothes whilst at work. Claire said that this would help to sensitize me, and get me into the habit of behaving more and more like a woman, so that we could win the top prize.

Every night when I returned home I had to change into the outfit that Claire had left in our room. Again, this was to ensure that I became accustomed to wearing the clothes, and to improve my personal deportment.

After being behaviorally conditioned in this way I became an expert in applying make-up, and my behavior became more and more feminine. It had become almost second nature, and as a result Claire and I won the top prize at the party. I thought after the party that it would all end there, but it was not to be.

The fact that I had been subjected to such a wide range of feminine techniques, and that I now had an extensive wardrobe of women's clothes, naturally led to my wife wanting me to continue to behave and dress in this way. It was obvious and clear to me that, during the time of my transformation, she was enjoying herself immensely.

I do my best to look like a woman, as this is precisely how my wife wants me to be. She has made it quite clear that she enjoys our relationship more with me being the way that I am now. I don't know how far she intends to take this, but I really am under the control of my beautiful wife, and it seems that I no longer have much future as a male. Still, I am thoroughly enjoying my treatment, and I love my wife deeply.

Thank you once again for a truly enjoyable website and please, please, please keep up the good work.
Love,

Davina xx

Patti59 · « **Reply #20 on:** January 22, 2022, 11:13:04 am »

Another Letter from November! This is a recounting from the '70's and the Radical Feminist Movement from that time that unfortunately seemed to just lose all it's steam! Imagine where we could be now if these Radical Feminists would have been able to have their Outlook Dominate the Culture!

TAUGHT SUBMISSION AND OBEDIENCE

Dear Susan,

As you probably know, here in the U.S. in the 1970's a small number of radical feminists dressed their sons in feminine attire. This wasn't necessarily a form of discipline; it was often done to prevent any macho qualities from developing in the boys. My mom raised me like this. She lovingly taught me that it was my responsiblity to defer to females, in order to help counterbalance the centuries of oppression that had been inflicted on them.

Mom had five children, all girls except me. I was the second oldest. Two of them, including myself and the youngest, were Mom's biological children. The others, including the oldest, were the children of her partner, Tanya, with whom we lived.

I wore girl's clothes from toddler-hood. Mom and Tanya home-schooled us, and when we went anywhere I was usually dressed as a girl. I wore everything from long print dresses, to frilly short skirts, to the casual clothes of the day. In the summer I often wore a maillot swimsuit with beach sandals. Except for visits to the dentist or doctor, I rarely wore boys’ clothes. I lived up to my responsibilities as a male by taking care of the younger kids, learning to cook, doing the laundry, cleaning the house. Mom did allow me a good chunk of free time every day, however. She and Tanya were very patient and affectionate toward me. To the girls, however, I was little more than a slave, but I didn't mind. It all seemed perfectly natural.

Our house was big enough for each of us to have our own room, including me. My room was the only one with no door, to prevent any secret behavior on my part. Anyone was free to enter my room at anytime. Since I always wore girl's clothes and had feminine hair, the girls used to like to play ‘beauty shop’ with me as their customer. To tease me they started calling me ‘Rachel’, a name I still use. The girls use to love ordering me around, and my older sister, who was very practically-minded, even set up an intercom system. When anyone wanted anything, all they had to do was press a button. I waited on the girls , and also cleaned their rooms, made their beds, and picked up after them. Mom and Tanya were definitely in charge, however, and kept the girls from going to far.

When puberty struck I was encouraged by Mom to wear heavy panty girdles under my skirts to control any possible excitement. I continued to do the chores and obey the girls until the last one left home. Shortly thereafter Mom passed away, and I continued to stay home and serve Tanya. Tanya eventually found a new partner, and I now serve them both. I'm not able to dress during the day as I used to. I work full time as a chef, freely giving my earnings to Tanya and partner. When I come home at night I quickly change into female attire. I don't think I could ever get used to male clothing if I lived for five hundred years. I feel very happy and fulfilled, and I'm proud of the way I was raised. I've tried to make life better for the females in my life, and I'm glad I didn't turn out to be an unpleasant and thoughtless male.

Rachel

Patti59 · « **Reply #21 on:** January 22, 2022, 11:23:31 am »

Another Letter from the November Issue detailing how Smart Women can get a man to succumb to Feminization! This is Great Information for Women that are thinking about Feminizing their males!

TRAPPED BY HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW

Dear Susan,

Not too long ago, my mom Lynda told me about your site, which I have found to be very interesting, not to mention informative, since my husband is also a victim of my ‘petticoating’ him. Reading what others have done and continue to do, is a wonderful source of information that helps stimulate ideas in my mind. Thank you for a wonderful website.

Recently Mom wrote to you telling about how she and her sorority sisters used to make college boys wear lingerie under their clothes to school, as well as dress them up, as part of their initiation into a fraternity. She also mentioned how ‘petticoating’ is now a part of my marriage, but stated that she felt either myself, or my husband Bob, should be the ones to share these details with you, should you so desire. Well, I going to take a wild guess that you might be interested, and so as not to create too long a gap between articles, I am writing to you now, to at least tell you how this all got started with my husband.

Like my mother, I am a more outgoing person, and willing to try new things and take changes than my husband, who tends to be more reserved. Even before we got married, I had a strong feeling that Bob always felt a little intimidated by my mom, who can be quite persuasive and is never afraid to say what was on her mind. Not too long after our marriage, Bob confirmed my suspicions when he told me that, “While my mom is a great person, and that he admired her in many ways, she can make him feel rather uncomfortable and nervous at times”. It would be this ‘fear’ that he had of her that would eventually lead to his first experience of being petticoated.

Like many, or even most men, Bob had a tendency to look a little too closely at women’s breasts, not to mention down their blouses, so my mom took it as a challenge to do something about that, so as to keep me from being embarrassed. Being outspoken like she was, one day, when she and Bob were alone together, she nicely told him “that had to stop”. She also told him to “stop talking to a woman’s breasts” but look women in the eyes when he converses with them.

Not only was Bob surprised by her openness, but embarrassed as well, since it was coming from his mother-in-law, since men don’t think women are aware of what they are doing. While this worked for a little while, and a bit longer with my mom, it wasn’t long before Bob was into his old habits again, so that was when my mom decided to let Bob see what it feels like to be unwontedly looked at. Of course she was doing all of this with my blessing.

What my mom did was to order a Victoria’s Secret catalog to be sent to our home with Bob’s name on it. Mom would intercept this piece of mail and get it to look well-used, before giving it to me to hide somewhere where Bob might try to hide something like that. Yes, we ‘set him up’ and yes, my mother ‘just happened’ to be visiting Bob and me at our home the evening that I’d find it. I reacted like a wife finding something like this might react, with Bob of course denying any knowledge of the catalog.

It was then that Mom brought up the little chat she had with him previously for the first time, and now Bob was faced with trying to explain his actions, as well as the catalog, to both of us. It was quite obvious that he was flustered, and feeling quite intimidated with the two of us wanting explanations. Since Bob knew he was guilty of the one thing, the wandering eyes, it was hard for him to try and prove he was not guilty of ordering the catalog, since it did have his name on it.

After listening to his feeble excuses for a while - and Bob was really flustered - Mom would spring her trap on him. She asked him, “Isn’t your wife’s body good enough for you? Do you have to insult her by looking at other women’s bodies, even pictures of other women in lingerie catalogs?”

Then after a pause with a look as if she had just thought of something she asked, “Or is it the lingerie? You’re fascinated by the lingerie, aren’t you?”

This left Bob in a quandary, either way he answered, he was in trouble, but he knew he was in more trouble with the first possibility, something he knew he was already guilty of, than the second. Mom would keep pushing him for an answer, guiding him in the direction of the lingerie, until he took what he thought was the best way out, saying it was the lingerie, which was exactly what we wanted. My mom had him, hook, line and sinker.

Bob would be given the opportunity to “put all of this behind him” if he would “prove” to us it was only the lingerie by allowing us to “dress him up”. Of course he tried to talk us out of that, but there was no way that he was going to change my mother’s mind. He either let us “dress him up” or face a mother-in-law who was very concerned about her daughter’s feelings. Even though Bob and I are pretty much the same size, Mom insisted we all go to her place and dress Bob up in her clothes. With Bob standing by nervously watching, and still trying to talk us out of it, Mom and I would go through her lingerie drawers and her closet, picking out the things we most wanted to see him in.

Once all the clothing had been selected, Bob was told to “get undressed”. Mom never intended to actually have Bob strip in front of her, but only did this so that she could appear to willing to “compromise” and leave the room. Being his wife, and since he knew nothing about putting on women’s clothes, I’d remain in the room to “give him a hand”. Bob would wind up wearing a bra, panties, girdle, half-slip, nylon stockings, blouse, skirt and high heel shoes before I had him call his mother-in-law back in to see just how cute he looked. Upon seeing him, Mom would tell him that this “reminded her of her college days when they used to dress up frat boys as part of their initiations” and that seeing Bob “made her feel young again”.

Mom wasn’t through with Bob just yet however. Since a woman is not fully dressed until she has her make-up on, mom would have Bob sit down at her vanity while she delighted in putting blush, eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, eyebrow pencil and lipstick on him as he sat in disbelief of what was happening to him. While she was doing this to him, I had taken his clothes and locked them in the trunk of Mom’s car, leaving him in a home that did not have one stitch of male clothing in it - leaving him really at our mercy.

Bob would be forced into making promises not only about his future behavior with respect to how he looked at other women, but also as to how he would treat me with more respect in the future as well. Mom would take a number of pictures of Bob dressed up like this as ‘insurance’ that he would keep his promises. His first test came that night when Mom would not return Bob’s clothing to him, and he would have to ride back home with me dressed as a woman.

That is how it all began and as a result of my mom’s persistence, my life has become far more enjoyable for me, not to mention creating a stronger marriage bond between Bob and me, with me in charge. My mom is always there to support me as needed, as is my younger sister Tina, who is now attending college. As for Bob, I don’t think he will ever get used to being ‘petticoated’, but that’s fine with us, since it has made him a changed man. He is kind, considerate, obedient, as well as very helpful, all the traits a woman would want in a husband because of his continued ‘petticoating’ experiences.

Susan, I’m sorry for the length of this message, and I hope I have not bored you with too much detail. I would certainly love to hear your comments, if you have any, and would be glad to share more with you and your readers if you so desire.
Love,

Jaclyn

Patti59 · « **Reply #22 on:** January 22, 2022, 11:56:40 am »

This letter is from the 2006 Hogmanay Edition of PDQ. I Like how the Wife and the Female Doctor directed the man under the premise of his medical condition. Another Great Angle for other Women to use!

WEARING SUPPORT UNDIES FOR MEDICAL REASONS

Dear Susan,

After having undergone three surgical operations for an abdominal hernia, my female doctor told me, and my wife, that I needed to wear an ‘abdominal support’, to avoid yet another operation. I tried three different ones, all designed for men having my condition; but had major problems with each one either riding up too high, or sliding down too low.

After discussing this with my doctor, and with my wife, my doctor said that she had suggested to a couple of other male patients having conditions similar to mine, wearing a high-waist women's panty girdle. At the insistence of my doctor; my wife obtained one for me to wear. It fits me well, and is effective in supporting my hernia; despite it being a womens' panty girdle, and having a lot of feminine lace, and garters attached.

Shortly after, I began to have swelling around my knees. I had surgery on one knee, but the swelling worsened. Surgery is scheduled later on for my other knee. Due to this, my doctor has ordered that I wear compression support hosiery, to control the swelling. Since the swelling is in and above the knees, the standard men’s style of over-the-calf compression hose would do me little good; thus she prescribed that I wear either a pair of women’s panty-hose style, or the above-the-thigh style of compression hosiery.

My wife bought one of each style for me to wear. They both fitted me perfectly, are comfortable to wear; and they do work well, and have reduced the swelling. The only problem is, I now find myself in the position of following my lady doctor's orders to wear a women’s panty girdle, along with the compression panty-hose or the mid-thigh length style hose, which I attach my garters to, on a daily basis.

My wife insists that I follow my doctor's orders,: wearing my girdle, and either the compression panty-hose, or my compression nylons attached to the garters in my girdle; every day. If I do not co-operate, my wife threatens to go on strike; thus I must obey; and wear the feminine garments all day long, every day. Since I must wear this ‘lingerie’, and now my wife has discovered your web site; she now has added her own requirement that I also wear a petticoat, a bra, and lacy panties around the house whenever we have no guests, while I perform all the household chores, or else no love-making. I really am petticoated, and with no choice.

Jack C.

Patti59 · « **Reply #23 on:** January 22, 2022, 12:19:30 pm »

A Letter from the December 2006 Edition of PDQ. It is another Mother and Female Doctor situation! This is so heartwarming to see!

WEARING PINK PANTIES TO THE DOCTOR’S

Dear Susan:

I hope this letter finds you and your staff doing well. I discovered your web site a few months ago, and enjoy it more than mere words can describe.

I have written you recently with excerpts from my past. As I explained in past emails, I was an only child of a very dominant single mother. Between the ages of 12y and 22y I spent the majority of my time dressed and living as a girl or young woman. A situation I felt very comfortable with, as by nature I was a docile, submissive lad who enjoyed the feel of panties, petticoats, etc., and was willingly dominated by the superior female sex.

My mother and her circle of female friends gave me the name ‘Cissy’, after seeing me in various dresses and with make-up. With my long hair and effeminate build and manner, mother always said it was just as easy to dress me as a girl than as a boy anyway, and she so much enjoyed having a daughter.

She enjoyed displaying me to her friends in my pink or lavender party dresses, and I sincerely enjoyed the attention I received from the women. Outings to parks and shopping malls were routine occurrences. One would have had to look very closely to see that I wasn't a girl.

On those rare occasions when I objected to my status, a few well placed swats on my pink-pantied bottom, and some corner time while I held one of my many dolls, soon set me straight.

Mother kept me free of any body hair, shaving all areas of my body except for the long curly hair on my head, on a regular basis. I was able to avoid having to undress for physical education class in school, since my pediatrician had written a note saying I was unable to take the class due to asthma.

The condition did require quarterly check-ups at my pediatrician's office. I had in the past always worn boys’ clothing for the check-ups, but when I was fourteen that changed. I wore my usual slacks and sweater this time but underneath, instead of the scratchy boys’ white underwear I wore something different. Mother had told me I was to wear a pair of lacy pink panties under my slacks for this trip to the doctor's office.

I was nervous, since the pleasant lady physician had in the past always had me undress for a through examination. Still I knew better than to question Mother, unless I wanted a pink bottom to go with my pink panties.

After the nurse took my vital signs the doctor entered her office and, as was the custom, my mother was in the exam room with us to answer any questions about my health. The doctor told me to undress to my underwear, as was the normal procedure. I hesitated, but Mother nodded and firmly told me to do as the doctor said.

Trembling, I took off my shirt and then my pants, and stood before the doctor in nothing but the frilliest, pinkest pair of panties you can imagine.

Seeing me standing before her in my panties, my doctor asked mother why I was wearing girl's panties. Mother explained that I really preferred panties and girl’s clothing over boy’s attire. When the doctor asked if that were true, I said "Yes", and blushed a crimson red.

The doctor smiled and said as long as I enjoyed it there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, and complimented my mother for not forcing me into boy’s clothing. In fact, the doctor said I should feel free to attend my future appointments in one of my many dresses.

That became the case for future appointments as I always wore a dress or skirt to the appointments and played with the little girls in the waiting room while I waited for the receptionist to call my name.

That always registered a bit of a surprise when the lady would ask for Alex, my boy name, and I would get up and walk to the doctor's office. Eventually, the staff learned to call me Cissy when I was present for an appointment and they all made such a fuss over me, complimenting me on my appearance.

Mothers who are thinking of petticoating their sons to improve their behavior may be surprised to find their sons are not as reluctant to make the switch as you might think. We also become wonderful little helpers around the house.

I would be interesting in hearing if any other mothers have had similar experiences. Well, please take care and I will write more in the future.
Sincerely,

Alex

Patti59 · « **Reply #24 on:** January 22, 2022, 12:29:03 pm »

From the January 2007 Edition of PDQ. It is so invigorating to see the positive change in a male's behavior through Feminization!!

ANOTHER PETTICOAT DISCIPLINE SUCCESS STORY

Dear Susan,

I have been an avid reader of your web site for about two years now, and, because of yours and others’ advice, I was able to control my son and save him from getting into trouble. I'm a single mother, with a now 14 year old son, who just over a year ago was a very difficult and exasperating teenager.

When he was 13y, and while I still had some control over him, I was able to force him into a pair of pink panties, a gleaming lace-trimmed white slip, and a pretty yellow dress. Within minutes he began to transform from a typical thoughtless teenager into a gentle and kind human being .The transformation was amazing: the silk pink panties had such a calming effect on him it was incredible.

Later in the week I picked out several little girl outfits for him along with panties, girls’ shoes, Mary Janes, etc. When school was out for spring break it was a perfect time to continue the experiment as his behaviour was returning to unruly as long as he was dressed as a boy.

It took a few swats on the bottom on the second attempt to get him into panties and dress, but once convinced he had no option but to submit. Again, once I had him dressed in panties, dresses and make-up and wig, he was the perfect little lad. He answered to the name Ellen, rather than his given name of Allan.

Well, I can't tell you what an improvement has occurred in Ellen - your advice saved him. He or she now spends most of her time after school, weekends, and spring and summer vacations, dressed as a girl and is a great help around the house with the cleaning. An occasional smack on the seat of his panties is needed from time to time, about once a week, but overall he is a changed person for the better.

My question is this: so far the only people who have seen him dressed this way are my sister and her 12 year old daughter Melinda. He used to tease Melinda in the past, but now he is a perfect little playmate for her. Both my sister and niece are amazed at how he has changed for the better. It is so delightful to watch the two play dollies together, although Melinda can be a little rough with Ellen sometimes and we caution her to take care when playing with such a sissy little boy.

Melinda has a birthday party coming up shortly, and will have several of her girlfriends over, but no boys. The one exception would be Allan, as long as he comes dressed as Ellen. My question for you Susan is: when is it proper to begin to display Ellen in public? He is very feminine-looking with the proper make-up and a corset. I would like to parade him in front of my friends, as well as take him to the mall and for walks.

I am looking forward to your advice Susan. Thanks again for saving my little momma's boy.
Sincerely,

Liz

Patti59 · « **Reply #25 on:** January 22, 2022, 12:56:58 pm »

From the May 2007 Edition of PDQ. A Woman and her Friend emasculate the Woman's husband!

A BLUSHING BRIDE

Dear Susan,

As described on your excellent web site, my pitiful husband was recently subjected to being filmed by my girl friend whilst descending the stairs in her white silk wedding gown. The exquisite gown has been kindly donated by her, and has been added to the growing collection of frocks in his wardrobe. He is certainly becoming ever more subservient, and now accepts me as head of the house without question.

In fact, now he has such a beautiful wedding dress, I thought how appropriate it would be to have our wedding photos recreated with Michael as the blushing bride. I mentioned the idea to Sarah who, needless to say, thought it was a wonderful idea and insisted they should be taken at the same local church as we were originally married. Obviously he would be horrified at the idea but that was really of no consequence.

I wanted him to look excruciatingly feminine and so asked Sarah, with her dress-making skills, to design and make a beautiful pink cape which was sufficiently sheer to still see every detail of his stunning dress underneath. I also wanted a pretty chain to be incorporated into the cape around the neck. This would be secured via a small but visible padlock which would be properly symbolic of his new enforced femininity.

She was very excited by the project and finished it amazing quickly. She also inserted padlock loops at the back of the dress so that there could be no possibility of removal. She then pleaded with me to allow her to bring him to the church and I reluctantly agreed, but warned her that she would have to be extremely firm with him.

I ensured that he was already fully made-up and padlocked into his wedding dress before Sarah arrived. She wasted no time in showing him the new pink cape and was delighted to see him recoil with horror at the very sight of it. She threw the cape around his shoulders and tied the pink ribbons together in a slow and delicate manner.

“You now have an appointment at your local church where you will pose for photographs with your wife,” she announced gleefully.

“You can’t be serious – no way. I’m not going out like this, you can’t make me.” He untied the cape and threw it on the floor.

“How dare you! I made this cape especially for you Michael, and you WILL wear it. Angela was crushed when she discovered your cross-dressing, but has now accepted it. She still loves you, and if you love her you will do this to please her. Now pick up the cape and put it on immediately.”

He meekly obeyed and she re-tied the ribbons in a business-like manner. She then hooked up the pretty chain with the small padlock and snapped it shut with a satisfying click.

“I’m sorry Michael, but Angela has insisted that everything is completely secured. The cape must stay on till we return home.” She then placed the key on the fireplace so there was no going back.

He was powerless to resist, as she dragged him outside into the bright sunlight and stood nervously by the car. It seemed like an eternity before she finally unlocked the door and assisted him with his huge frock.

“Are you wearing my bridal lingerie, Michael?” she asked. He nodded meekly.

“You know, I really shouldn’t tell you this but I actually lost my virginity wearing your dress at the tender age of 19y. I had danced all night at the wedding and was desperate to take it off, but my husband was very insistent that I should wear it to consummate the marriage. Of course, I wasn’t wearing your pretty cape. That would have been much too girly for me.”

His humiliation was unbearable as any remaining vestige of maleness was stripped from away from him. He tugged pathetically on the gold padlock as they travelled the short journey to the church, and I was ready and waiting as they pulled up the gravel driveway.

“Darling, just look at you, a true blushing bride. You transformation is complete.” I said excitedly.

He struggled out of the car and stood there in all his feminine glory. We fussed around the silky frock and arranged the gorgeous pink cape so that his silken ‘breasts’ were visible. Sarah teasingly checked the cape padlock and I reminded him to lift his frock as we walked over to the church entrance. I insisted that he smile as Sarah took photographs.

As we returned to the car, a group of teenage girls watched from a distance, seemingly unaware that the bride was a man. They eventually wandered over to get a closer look, and he was utterly desperate to remove the pretty cape but knew it was hopeless. The girls giggled mercilessly and Sarah cruelly drew attention to the padlocks ensuring his feminine enslavement.

The pictures now adorn our bedroom and landing.
Yours,

Angela S
Hampshire

Patti59 · « **Reply #26 on:** January 22, 2022, 01:23:13 pm »

Another Letter from the May 2007 Edition! Strong Women at work "taming" wayward males!

A STRAYING HUBBIE’S NEW ROLE

Dear Susan,

I am delighted to see PDQ continuing to set such high standards; the weekly updates seem to get better and better. I must particularly make mention again of the brilliant Lana, some of her recent creations have been absolutely superb, epitomising to me the very essence of petticoat discipline. I hope that we will one day see again the work of those other talented petticoat discipline illustrators, Chrissy and Eustace: their contributions are much missed. Similarly it is disappointing not to have heard more from my Letter of the Year ‘Pettie Winner’ of last year, Jaclyn. I’m sure that, like me, many readers would like to hear more from her as to how her petticoating regime has progressed with her husband (or from her mother with more memories of her college petticoating days).

I particularly refer to Jaclyn as a recent experience of mine paralleled, in many ways, the events of her superb ‘Petticoated by his Mother in Law’ letter.

I have referred in previous letters to my close friend Vanessa, who has been involved on a number of occasions in my ‘petticoating parties’ with Penelope and, as you might expect, has become a close confidant. A few weeks ago she confided in me that she was very concerned about her daughter, or more particularly, about her son-in-law, Steve. Vanessa’s daughter, Christine, was carving out a very successful career in the law but her husband of about three years, Steve, who was a self-employed electrician, did not seem to be overly busy.

Vanessa felt that Steve was perhaps freewheeling somewhat, happy to enjoy a nice lifestyle on the rewards of Christine’s long hours and success. Further, she was becoming convinced that Steve was not always filling his leisure hours innocently. Prior to his marriage he was known to have something of a reputation as a “lady’s man” and Vanessa felt that perhaps he might be slipping back into his old ways. He had even, on a recent occasion, she felt, made a guarded advance to her, disguised, of course in a playful manner, whilst doing some work at their home. I smiled, this did not totally surprise me, Vanessa is a very attractive and well-preserved 50ish lady with a nice sense of fun, that I could well see many younger men being intrigued by her charms.

As our conversation progressed I got to thinking and a plan began to form in my mind. I asked Vanessa to come into the study to my computer and, after logging in to PDQ, located Jaclyn’s letter and asked her to read it. She obviously found it amusing and looked up at me quizzically, “You don’t mean…” she started.

I smiled, “Of course I do. You know how my regime with Penelope works – well, I’m sure Jaclyn has her husband under control in just the same way. I think you have a golden opportunity to tame this young Lothario and give Christine the perfect husband”. Vanessa nodded thoughtfully and we set to hatching our plan.

Steve was due to visit her home a few days later to complete a little plumbing job that, typically, seemed to be taking forever. Vanessa would dress and act most provocatively, and if her impression about Steve was right he would take the bait and make a pass at her. She would then, of course, pretend to be horrified, fly into a tantrum accusing him of being a good-for-nothing seducer, and telling him she would make sure that her daughter threw him out of their house that night. If we judged things rightly he would eventually beg and plead forgiveness and would be grudgingly given a chance to redeem himself by an act of atonement that would involve him in taking on all his hard-pressed wife’s domestic duties…suitably attired of course.

Two days later an excited Vanessa called – all had gone according to plan. Steve had walked into her carefully baited honey trap hook, line and sinker. When she had turned on him he had attempted to bluster his way out, claiming she had deliberately led him on, but he had caved in to her determined onslaught and eventually agreed to do whatever she wanted, though when she had explained to him what she wanted he had at first refused point blank.

However, confronted again with the weakness of his position, he had, very grudgingly, agreed to submit to his penance. Vanessa then surprised me by asking me if I could meet her at her daughter’s house the following day. She explained that she was going to strike whilst the iron was hot, before Steve thought of a way out of his predicament, and start his petticoat discipline immediately. The reason for the call to me was that, due to the need for haste, she was able to provide the necessary undies for Steve but had no suitably-sized dresses or skirts for his transformation. As she felt that he was a similar size to Penelope she wondered whether I could help. I was, of course, only to pleased to do so, and we agreed that Penelope’s original pink outfit, much admired by PDQ readers, would be just right, leaving him in no doubt about his new status.

I turned up at Christine’s house the following morning in high anticipation. Vanessa greeted me looking very pleased with herself and the dress, petticoats and pinny were soon out of my hold-all and hanging in plain view in the lounge. She explained quickly to me that she intended to have Steve well into his new role as a petticoated house maid before Christine came home from work, and that she had enjoyed herself preparing the very reluctant Steve as much as possible before my arrival. With that she brusquely called Steve from the kitchen.

In he walked, looking as if he was in a state of shock at what was happening to him. I took in the scene slowly. Vanessa had done well, Steve was wearing an ivory-coloured silk negligee, through which one could see a rather old-fashioned corselette, to the suspenders of which were attached nice dark stockings, a pair of nice lacy French knickers which looked as if they matched the negligee, and a similarly lace-frilled petticoat. I could see some nicely-applied make up round his eyes and it looked as if he was wearing pale pink lipstick. He walked uncertainly in medium-heeled court shoes.

When he saw me his face creased in panic and he started to protest that he had not agreed that anyone else would be involved, but Vanessa harshly silenced him “You don’t agree to anything” she snapped “Lesley is a great friend of mine and has kindly agreed to give up her time to come here to help get you into shape. She is an expert in petticoat discipline and has even agreed to lend you a suitable costume until we can get you something of your own, so you should be grateful!”

With that she nodded her head in the direction of the costume hanging behind the door, A look of horror crossed his face “I can’t wear that,” he spluttered, panic-stricken.

“You can, and you will!” replied Vanessa simply.

Sure enough, he was soon attired in the frilly petticoat, pink skirt, and high-necked pink satin blouse with which PDQ readers will be familiar from my early pictures of Penelope. After his initial resistance he was very compliant, in an almost trance-like state as if he couldn’t really believe what was happening to him. Vanessa allowed me to put him into, and tie in a nice big bow, Penelope’s lovely big frilly pink satin pinny, and then made him kneel in front of her as she placed the matching mob cap on his head.

He stood in front of us looking absolutely crushed but his humiliation was not complete, Vanessa insisted he stood on a low stool and raised his skirt and pinny so that she could “adjust his petticoats”. I’m sure it wasn’t strictly necessary, but she was clearly enjoying her first experience of carrying out a petticoating and was determined to show the hapless Steve that he was totally under her control.

We then sat down and Vanessa very calmly explained to Steve, who was forced to stand before us, hands neatly folded in front of his pinny, the rules for his new lifestyle.

“Right, what we’re going to propose to Christine when she comes home, and you’re going to agree with me, is that from today, as she is the main earner in this household, you’re going to help out as a sort of house maid. I’m going to offer my services to manage your time, which will mean that whenever you’re not out working and earning money you’ll be put to work on the various jobs around the house that you’ve always considered to be her hers. I will be supervising you and you will, of course, always be suitably attired for your role and once Christine has agreed to this, as I’m sure she will, on your next day off we shall go to town and buy you some suitable clothing, similar to what you’re wearing now, so that you can return these lovely clothes that Lesley has loaned you.

“When you are at your business, in fact at all times, you will wear ladies’ underwear so that any thought of any sexual adventuring will be out of the question. When you’re in the house it will be up to Christine to decide what she’d like you to wear, I suspect that will depend on how pleased she is with your general behaviour. Now, we’re going to spend the rest of the day training you for your new position, I think we’ll start with teaching you to curtsey respectfully to ladies at all times.”

Poor Steve looked completely subjugated as he stood there with, I’m sure, a trace of a tear in his eyes. He had tried a couple of times to interrupt as Vanessa issued her edict but her look and tone had quickly dissuaded him. I had to admire the way her firm, positive action had so quickly got this arrogant young man under control, and completely subject to her will. And what a clever idea to insist that when not working he would always be carrying out his maid servant duties – he would certainly be making more effort to get work in the future. He was soon practising his curtsies, very awkwardly at first but eventually quite passably. Again I felt this was an excellent way to start his training, making this so feminine and so subservient gesture was a sure way to remind him of his new menial status.

The rest of the day passed with him learning some new skills – hoovering and dusting, ironing, preparing and serving us a light meal and washing up, all things that Vanessa was determined would become his normal duties. It was delightful to see him mincing around (Vanessa insisted he walked in a “proper feminine manner”), the taffeta of the petticoats and pinny of Penelope’s original punishment outfit rustling delightfully to his extreme chagrin, and being chided if he did not remember to curtsey prettily on entering or leaving the room.

Eventually, about an hour before Christine was due home, I left as Vanessa quite rightly felt that the introduction to Christine of her “new look husband” should be a private family matter. We had already rehearsed Steve’s introduction to his wife in his new role and ensured that he was word-perfect in what he was to say and do. He was left in no doubt that any departure from his agreed script would be met with immediate exposure of the real reason he was in this predicament, but given the ultra-compliant state into which we had got him I felt that any form of rebellion was extremely unlikely. Vanessa thanked me profusely for my part in the solution to the “Steve problem” but I was quick to assure her that, once she had accepted my original idea I could not have done any better myself in carrying out the petticoating. We parted with her assurance that she would keep me informed of the events of the rest of the day and of subsequent progress, and that if all went to plan she would invite me back soon to see for myself the results of our strategy.

I drove home feeling very uplifted that I had been able to be party to the bringing under petticoat discipline of such an obviously wayward husband. I have now received a call from Vanessa inviting me to visit next week, I’ll write again with an account of that visit.
Very best wishes,

Lesley

HOUSE MAID TRAINING

Dear Susan,

I wrote to you recently regarding the very successful petticoating of my friend Vanessa’s errant son-in-law, Steve, and promised to update you following my next visit.

As I explained, Vanessa had invited me along to her daughter Christine’s house, and when my ringing of the doorbell was answered I was greeted with a sight to gladden the heart of anyone who believes, as we do, in the value of petticoat discipline.

There, looking very sheepish indeed, stood a very smartly-uniformed house maid, except, of course that it was a male house maid. Steve was wearing a neat knee-length black skirt, a crisp white cotton blouse, nicely frilled down the front and at the collar and cuffs, with a neat little white waitress apron secured with a big bow at his waist. His outfit was completed by black stockings, and very functional black court shoes.

He was wearing discreet but clearly noticeable eye make-up and lipstick, and his hair was held in place by a pretty white frilly Alice band. As I looked him up and down slowly, with him looking absolutely traumatised, I caught sight of Vanessa watching from the lounge with a smile playing on her lips.

“My, what a smart house maid you make, Steve” I teased, “I bet Christine must be really proud of you. Vanessa must have trained you well, I’m sure she’ll tell me all about it.”

He looked as if he was about to burst into tears when Vanessa interrupted my teasing, “There, Stevie, I told you that answering the door to callers wouldn’t be a problem, you’ll be fine when Chris’s friends come tonight.”

With that, as a look of desperation crossed his face, she despatched him to the kitchen, having had him first ask whether I wanted tea or coffee and execute a nice little curtsey, on which I complimented him sweetly. I’m afraid I couldn’t resist the temptation to give a pat to his pert little skirted bottom as he departed, much to Vanessa’s amusement.

Vanessa was clearly bursting to tell me all about ‘Stevie’s’ progress. On the day of his inaugural petticoating, described in my previous letter, Vanessa’s daughter had arrived home and, after recovering from her initial amazement, had been delighted with the new housemaid presented to her by her mother, and had really proved to be her mother’s daughter in the firm way she had dismissed her husband’s pleas for clemency.

They had made their plans for the ‘new girl’ there and then that evening. Christine had decided that, unlike my own regime with dear Penelope, there would be no pretence at femininity. Steve would not wear a wig but at all times when ‘on duty’ would appear as a thoroughly petticoated man, completely turned out as a be-frilled housemaid. He would also not have a female name, the diminutive ‘Stevie’ being felt to be very humiliating for the male Steve.

It was decided that the following weekend they would visit charity shops in a nearby town, where it was unlikely anyone would know them, and kit Stevie out with suitable clothes for his new role. Vanessa gave a hilarious account of how Stevie, to the amused bewilderment of the shop ladies, was compelled to try on various outfits until several items, including the outfit he was wearing today, were purchased. He was then taken to Marks & Spencer where he had to purchase for himself, to his intense embarrassment, bras, knickers and slips, which Vanessa laughingly told me were the prettiest and most feminine they could find.

Over the next few weeks his training had continued and, as had been hoped, his attempts to secure jobs for his business had strangely increased to great levels to avoid ‘house maid days’ when he wasn’t working. He was now a very competent house maid, Vanessa assured me, and also making a far more significant contribution to the family budget, which she said with a smile means they’ve got more money to spend as you’ll see in a minute.

He certainly had no time now to pursue his suspected womanising activities. To this end, she went on to explain that Christine and her had identified a small group of ladies known to them with whom, they felt, Steve had shown rather too much interest in the past. Now, Vanessa said with a satisfied smirk, that would all change as they had been invited round for a cards evening that night, and Steve was to serve them “in all his glory” as Vanessa put it. That was why he was looking so panic-stricken, she explained, there was little chance of him “trying to get his way with any of them after what we’ve got planned for him tonight – though they might want to employ him.” she giggled. He had, of course, begged and pleaded to avoid this ultimate humiliation but, as Vanessa said, there was no chance of letting him off the hook now.

With that Stevie reappeared with the coffee tray and did a very competent job of serving us. When finished he was complimented on his work, and then Vanessa asked him to please fetch the outfit I had loaned him previously. He curtsied smartly and left the room soon returning with Penelope’s famous frilly pink outfit, beautifully pressed, ready for me to take back. Whilst he was out Vanessa smilingly told me how he hated wearing the heavily frilled outfit, and how they loved to tease him as the taffeta petticoats and pinafore rustled sweetly as he worked.

Vanessa looked quizzically at him “Well,” she started, “You know what you’ve got to ask Lesley now that you’re earning all this money, you want to buy yourself a nice present don’t you?” He looked pleadingly at her and started to protest but was soon silenced. Biting his lip, he curtsied forlornly to me and spoke quietly, “My mistress likes the way I look in the uniform you kindly loaned me and wonders whether your friend who made it would make a similar one for me, please. My mistress says that I would pay very well as I’m only allowed to use my pocket money for clothes now.”

I giggled he looked quite crestfallen. “Ros doesn’t do much dressmaking now,” I replied as his look brightened, “but in this case I’m sure she would be happy to make an exception – after all it’s such fun doing this sort of thing. I’ll call Vanessa and make arrangements for Ros and I to come to take your measurements and for your mistress to choose which pretty colour she’d like her maid in.”

“Excellent,” said Vanessa with a smile, “as soon as possible please.” Steve looked completely mortified, the thought of this new torment for the moment even causing him to forget what lay in store for him on his ‘debut’ that evening.

I’ll keep you informed of further developments.
Best regards to all,

Lesley.

Patti59 · « **Reply #27 on:** January 22, 2022, 01:27:39 pm »

And another Letter from May - A Great solution for an unruly son!

A PROGRESS REPORT

Dear Susan,

I’m Amy. I sent you a correspondence a little while ago about how and why I put my husband in bras. After the holidays I put him in a corset, because he started to gain weight. By the way, his weight situation has been resolved and I’ve now reduced his time in corsets.

Anyway, I have a friend named Karen who has two boys and a girl. For some time the older of her two sons has been a problem. About two months ago, he got in trouble for shoplifting at a local store. Karen told me that she was at her wit’s end with him, and wasn’t sure what to do.

I told her about your web site, and the practice of petticoating. I also confided in her about how wearing a bra has improved the behavior of my husband, Andy. She’s not computer savvy, nor does she have a computer, so I printed up some of the correspondence from Petticoat Discipline Quarterly that I thought would be of some interest to her.

She was very impressed. And so about a month ago she began to petticoat her oldest son. Her husband has just stayed out of it. Needless to say, her son objected to this, but he had no choice. Not at school, but around the house, he wears very pretty flower girl dresses that a friend of hers supplies her with. Last week she started him in prom gowns. Of course underneath he constantly wears teen bras, pink panties, and slips. And he’s always in pretty pink heels.

Even his sister has been more than happy to hand over to him some of her clothes that she doesn’t want anymore, including some very pretty pink nighties of hers. And he just has to wear them. Some times if he gets out of line or gives Karen a problem, he finds himself wearing girdles. He hates those more than the bras he has to wear.

So far this has been working very well. According to Karen, his behavior has been improving. He’s even getting better grades in school. She has basically said that his petticoating will continue for a very long time.
Nevertheless, she and I were talking about this the other day and a question came up. I searched through the correspondence on Petticoat Discipline Quarterly, but I can’t seem to find anything that addresses this issue. (Unlike me, Karen has not done any petticoating on her husband. As I mentioned before, he’s completely staying out of the whole situation).

But, we were wondering, what about her other son? As I mentioned before, her older son has been the problem, not the younger one. Like her husband, he’s staying out of it too. Susan, we need your opinion. Should Karen go ahead and petticoat her other son even though he hasn’t been a problem, or should she leave everything as is? Or what about her husband, should she petticoat him too or not? What do you think?

Amy

Patti59 · « **Reply #28 on:** January 22, 2022, 01:32:24 pm »

From the June 2007 Edition of PDQ - Some Great Suggestions in keeping a man in his Proper Place!

PETTICOATING SUGGESTIONS

Dear Susan:

I thoroughly enjoyed the letter from Julie posted in your June 3 edition regarding the techniques used to keep her petticoated husband in his place. I do have a few thoughts on her ideas.

Without a doubt forced chastity is essential in feminising most males. Their inability to function as a male without the consent of the partner serves to make them docile, feminine, and obedient. My little sissy stays in his CB2000 24 hours a day, and gets only occasional release when it is well-earned. Imagine how the poor dear must feel when around others (especially real males) knowing how truly impotent he is.

I was a little surprised to read Julie’s comments on the ineffectiveness of spanking. Perhaps the problem was that her spanking of her hubbie was treated as play as opposed to discipline. It seems that the application of the back of a hairbrush is very effective when applied vigorously. Of course, corner time following the spanking is an important part of the process.

Finally, I will add that I believe taking a petticoated male out in public is an important step that shouldn’t be forgotten. I realize it is often not practical to have a petticoated husband appear en femme at the mall or the supermarket, particularly if they cannot pass easily as a real woman. However, I have found that a trip to the local alternative lifestyle bar on a regular basis is very useful. Seeing my little petticoated sissy chatting with Sapphic women as well as feminine males and females while on his best feminine behavior does wonders for his attitude.

Kathleen

RadicalFeminist · « **Reply #29 on:** January 23, 2022, 12:54:13 pm »

What a wonderful story. "petticoated awakening" is a great term this is our end goal. Petticoat punishment, force feminization our just tools we women use until the male is ready for his "petticoated awakening". Once this happens there is no going back the male fully embraces his femininity and ready to be a good docile princess for life.

RF

New Age Lifestyle

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Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

Patti59

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!

RadicalFeminist

Re: The POWER of Determined Females!