PETTICOATED!

[petticoated]

Billy's stepmother laughed. And then she spoke to billy, 'Billy, we are still waiting for you to compliment Miss Kyra on her petty dress and petticoats. I shan't wait a moment longer, my boy...' Billy's startled look said it all. He just couldn't have his little secret revealed. Not now. Especially in front of me. Soooo...quickly, billy gathered his thoughts and his composure just long enough to fill the room with compliments! 'Kyra, your pretty little party dress is so ... so ... dainty. And your petticoats are ... are ... simply ... beautiful. Ummmm...th...thank...you...for letting me...see..........themmmm.' His face reddened even more. I remember blushing. And I remember my mother nodding at me as if to elicit her expected response. 'Why, thank you, billy! ' I exclaimed.  'I am so happy that you like them!' My mother nodded approvingly, this time with a wide grin. Then billy was ordered to pour my tea into a dainty cup, ask me if I preferred sugar and cream, prepare my tea for me, and then serve it on the dainty saucer. The small mincing steps he had to take to prevent the cup from falling was priceless. And after handing me my tea, poor little billy was ordered to perform a curtsey, daintily taking the lacy hem of his white satin serving apron between his fingers, and dipping respectfully until my mother gave her approval. It was priceless! The entire chit chat was all feminine and girly. The latest fashions. Makeup tips. Etc. Poor little billy was never included in the chatter. And when tea was concluded, billy was ordered to collect the cups and saucers from each of us, obediently curtseying every time. And then, just as billy thought he would finally escape that den of femininity, my mother dropped a bombshell. It was so funny..." Madame stopped for a moment, repositioned herself in the overstuffed leather in which she was sitting, slowly crossed her legs, leaned forward, and continued. "My mother asked Ms. Anderson, 'Now my dear Ms. Anderson, would you still like to borrow several of my daughter's frilly party frocks? I am certain she would be delighted to share them with.......you.' My mother smiled, and looked squarely at little billy. I have one particular frock in mind. White satin. It has an adorable double organdy and net underskirt to assure that the frilly frock will require several stiff petticoats to give it the proper fullness. Kyra wore it to a neighbor's tea party recently and all of the girls just adored it. Of course, the girls were treated to exquisite views of her lace pettis. Shall I have her model the dress for you...and for little billy here? I just KNOW he'd adore seeing her in it.' My mother looked at me and I knew better than to refuse. 'Kyra, dear, please excuse yourself from the room, go up to your room, and ask the maid to help you put on your frilly white satin party frock. Of course, my dear, you'll need to add that extra full taffeta and net crinoline petticoat that you just adore so much. I do realize the frock is just a tad on the short side, but...' Mother's voice tailed off. I knew what I had to do. So I raised myself from the very narrow chair, fluffed out my skirts and pettis, curtseyed to the ladies, and left the room. As I exited the door, however, I could hear little billy pleading with his stepmother to go home." Madame looked at us, smiling, "You see, dear ladies, little billy was an only child. He had no sisters." Madame laughed gaily. "The poor little boy's protests were very spirited. I could hear him shouting that he wanted to leave. But by the time that I had ascended the stairs to my room, the door to the parlor had been shut by my Mother...

[petticoated]

I went upstairs and pulled that frilly satin party dress from out of my closet. And yes, dear ladies, it was VERY frilly! Very girly! But so were most of my party dresses. After all, it was the early 1960's and girls were still very much...well, girls. Dainty. Girly. And feminine. ALL sugar and spice. But this dress was especially frilly. I remember it well. A bit shorter and poufier than most of my party dresses. Still, though, I had others, many others...too numerous to count...which also would have been considered very dainty and ultrafeminine. With the help of my personal maid, I put the frilly party dress on, and added two petticoats. One was a stiff crinoline mini half petticoat-three net layers all trimmed with a wide white row of ruffled white lace. And the other petticoat was a very stiff taffeta, pale pink, with dainty white satin bows. It, too, was heavily trimmed in white lace. And of course, because my dress was so short, several inches above my knees, my petticoats spilled out from everywhere. I knew, of course, that was EXACTLY what my Mother desired. And I would never have disobeyed Her. And so, after arranging my layered pettis and adjusting the very short skirts of my satin frock, I made my way to the staircase. But when I got to the top of the staircase and prepared to descend, there, at the bottom of the stairs were my mother and little billy's stepmother, surrounding billy. And ALL eyes were on me. How embarrassing! I KNEW, of course, that my layers of petticoats, so MANY of them, would be on display for everyone...even little billy. Especially little billy. And just as I recovered my aplomb, my mother ordered me to 'descend the stairs slowly, my dear. VERY slowly. We wish to make sure that the swish and sway of your pettis are appropriate for such a frilly dress.' And so downward I went, slowly, very slowly, just as my Mother had ordered.  Ms. Anderson was all smiles, as if gazing at a beautiful picture. My mother looked approvingly at me, scrutinizing my every step. I knew better than to tug and pull at my short dress to cover my exposed pettis. That was forbidden by my mother. Meanwhile, little billy just stared. And kept staring. He couldn't help it. It was at that moment...that very moment...that I knew little billy was just a sissy. My exposed petticoats lacily rustled and swished as I reached the bottom of the staircase. Little billy just gazed. I stared back at him, knowing his secret. So I fluffed my short skirts and made froufrou with my petticoats. I fingered my lacy layers. And I stared at him again as if I knew EXACTLY what he was. That second time, though, he caught me staring deep into his eyes and quickly diverted his stares. He knew he had been caught. 'Shall we go to the parlor, everyone?' My Mother suggested. And then she directed me to take little billy's hand in mine, and his little legs brushed against my petticoats as I made sure he felt them. As we held hands, I gently nudged his frightened little hand  towards my exposed petticoat lace. And when I tried to move his hand over my lacy layers, he recoiled in horror. I giggled girlishly. When we got to the parlor, my mother ordered me to stand in the middle of the room, still holding little billy's hand. Mother remarked, I remember, quite matter-of-factly, "Ms. Anderson, your darling little stepson is almost exactly the same size as my beautiful daughter. This frilly little dress would fit him like a glove. And I just know he would simply ADORE wearing petticoats! Now wouldn't you, my dear little boy? Hmmmmm...?'"

[petticoated]

I remember the startled look on billy's face. And how it reddened with embarrassment. Before poor little billy could say anything, my mother approached him. I remember how he had a look of trepidation in his eyes as she neared him. Instinctively, I squeezed billy's hand when I felt him try to break away. It was obvious billy was trying to escape from the room. But I wouldn't let him. He was surprisingly weak! He even gave me a pleading look as if wishing I would release my grip. When his beautiful stepmother saw this, she laughed at her weak stepson. "Why, billy honey, why ever would you want to leave our little tea party just before our fashion show begins? Miss Kyra was preparing to model her frilliest party frock for you...er...I mean, for us,' she laughed. Besides, it would be horribly rude and disrespectful of you to interrupt such a lovely affair. I've a good mind to put you over my knee right now...right here...unless you...' 'Oh no, Stepmother...er...Mummy..please don't do that to me. Please! I'll behave. I promise! Please don't spank me,' billy pleaded. Secretly I was hoping he would get spanked. After all, he had made fun of me and I felt he deserved it. Instead, though, billy's stepmother joined in the merriment of her son's embarrassment when she asked my mother if 'my dear boy can re-tie the big satin bow in the back of your little girl's dainty dress?' Billy looked astounded. My mother quickly replied, 'What a lovely idea, Ms. Anderson! Kyra would simply love her little friend to help her with her frilly frock, wouldn't you, my dear?' She asked me. I knew better than to do anything but curtsey to my mother and say, "Oh yes, Mother Dear!' I broke my grip on the subdued little boy and waited for him to respond. Of course, he did not. And then Ms. Anderson said, 'My little billy has a little secret he would like to share with us. It's quite amusing, isn't it my dear little stepson?' 'Okay, Stepmother...er...Mummy...I'll do it! I'll do it!' 'Do what, my dear little boy?' Ms. Anderson replied. 'I'll...I'll...tie the...the...the...bow...um...for Kyra.' billy stammered desperately. Ms. Anderson smiled. 'That's better, my dear little billy boy. Perhaps you would like to ask Kyra's mother for asistance, since this is the first time you will be doing this...though probably not the last.' Ms. Anderson hinted condescendingly. Before billy could ask, my mother directed the poor little boy to stand still while I turned around with my back to him. My mother then untied the big wide satin sash bow in the back of my dress and took billy's trembling little hands in hers, directing him to tie it perfectly. As she did so she remarked to billy, 'Miss Kyra's lovely party dress has so many pretty pearl buttons in the back that it simply is impossible for her to remove her frilly dress without assistance.' And then she added, 'I declare, my dear boy, this frilly little party dress would fit you like a glove!' Billy never said a word. And though I couldn't see his face, I just knew it had to be beet red with embarrassment! And when the bow was finally tied, Mother ordered me to turn around, face billy, and curtsey to him while thanking him for his assistance. I took extra special effort to make it a curtsey where the lacy hems of my petticoats exposed themselves to that sissy boy. And I made certain my pettis rustled and swished loudly for him. After all, I realized, HE was the SISSY!"...

[petticoated]

Madame laughed as her ladyfriends continued to listen to Her intently. "billy's face was just as red as I imagined it to be. And while I half-expected him to resist the continuation of the tea party, he did not. Instead, he feasted his greedy little sissy eyes on my short party dress and the many petticoats I was wearing under my little dress. The little boy was mesmerized. He couldn't help but stare at my pettis. After all, my frilly dress was so short that there was no way I could suppress the bouffant frilliness of my pettis.  It was as if I was in complete control of this helpless little boy. And so I decided to oblige him with the most girly, feminine modelling of the dainty dress I was wearing for my Mother. Little billy tried to edge away from the center of the room, where my mother and I were standing. He tried to move towards the straight-backed chair I had been sitting in. However, his Stepmother ordered her little boy to stay where he was, right next to me. 'Billy,' Ms. Anderson spoke, 'I want you to stand right next to Miss Kyra while she models her frilly dress for us ladies. I do know how fascinated you are with frilly party dresses and dainty undies, especially petticoats. Perhaps your ridiculous little 'fear' of such dainty and feminine little girl frillies can be overcome if you see how delightful wearing dresses can be...if you would only have an open mind. Just because you're a sissy...' A horrified(!) look appeared on the face of a stunned little billy. "Mummy! Mummy! How could you! Ohhhhh...how could you...say such a thing! I am NOT a sissy!!!!!' 'Oooopsy-daisy!' Ms. Anderson giggled. 'It slipped out, billy dear. I am quite sure sweet little Kyra doesn't mind if you're a ........ sissy. She's probably already figured it out, my dear boy. It IS obvious. I mean, a feminine little girly-girl like Miss Kyra, wearing her sweetest satin party dress, lace petticoats... and face it, my dear boy, a few moments ago you couldn't even break her little girl's grip while she was holding your hand. Perhaps it is because you were caught in your own little world...wondering...what it might be like...how it might feel...if it were YOU in a frilly little party dress and stiff petticoats. Hmmmmmm..?' Ms. Anderson laughed gaily, and my mother joined in. And now ALL eyes were on little billy anderson. poor little billy. My mother seized the moment. "So, my boy, why don't we go upstairs to Miss Kyra's bedroom and pick out....perhaps....a pretty little petticoat. Maybe Kyra's short little mini-petticoat...five tiers of very starched white net crinoline. It's quite lacy! And very stiff...it would poof out your dainty little satin serving apron quite nicely. And I just KNOW that little petticoat would fit you perfectly. Would you like that, my boy? Hmmmmmm...?'" Madame Chadwick was laughing as she got to this part of the story. The women in the room could hardly wait for Her to continue. "Well, my dear ladies, that little boy wanted to run from the room. I just knew he did. But he didn't. He just stood there. In the center of the room. Frozen. My mother continued to taunt him. To tease him. 'If you are a good little boy, why we might just put you in a frilly little party dress. All satiny and lacy. A nice short party frock. And then WE could see YOUR petticoat! Put you in a dainty party dress. Let you feel the rustle and swish of layers of stiff petticoats as you move about mincingly. I am sure Miss kyra would teach you how to walk in a frilly dress. How to sit in your dainty frock. How to manage ALL those delightful petticoats! We could allow YOU to serve us another round of tea all petticoated and frocked for us. Wouldn't that be just so much fun, sissy boy?' 'I'm NOT A SISSY! And stop calling me that!' billy screamed. "Stepmother, I want to go HOME! Please take me HOME, Stepmother!' Ms. Anderson was embarrassed by her son's outburst. She seemed at a loss of words. So she deferred to my Mother. 'Young man, you will immediately apologize to your stepmother for that unruly outburst. If you do not, I can assure you that you will be punished accordingly.' My mother had that tone of voice which commanded respect. She never raised her voice, though. But there was no doubt that she would tolerate any nonsense from the likes of Billy Anderson. And my mother was a strikingly beautiful woman. Authoritative but feminine. Little billy cowered when mother approached him. She took the lavish white lace edge of his satiny serving apron, lifted it, fingered the dainty lace, and looked little billy anderson squarely in his eyes. 'Now...apologize...'

[petticoated]

Little billy anderson cowered in front of my mother for a second. She glared at him. He wanted to stammer his disagreement with Mother's demand for an apology to his stepmother. But my mother was insistent. She just stared straight at little billy until he nervously plucked for a moment at the frilled white lacy edges of his white satin serving apron. I watcher his nervous fingers play with the lace. So did my mother. And so did billy's stepmother. It was a shameful and humiliating moment for billy. He desperately wanted to prove his 'boyhood.' But he didn't. He dared not defy my mother. Instead, little billy anderson meekly said to his stepmother, 'Stepmother...er....I mean Mummy, I am sorry for being rude. I promise not to do it again.' 'You will ask us EACH of us, for our forgiveness, young man,' my mother demanded. Little billy gulped. 'Ms. Chadwick, I am sorry for being rude. Please acccept my apology.' My mother only directed billy's attention to me. 'Kyra,' billy began...but my Mother interrupted him. 'Little billy, you will address my daughter as 'Miss Kyra.' billy looked pleadingly at his stepmother but to no avail. All he got from her was a wide grin of satisfaction at what she was witnessing. 'Miss Kyra,' billy said, I apologize for being rude to you. Please forgive me.' I remember grinning condescendingly at the sissy before dropping my most feminine curtsey. My sugary sweet girly smile showed only contempt for billy anderson. And he knew it. And then my mother ordered me to model the dress for Ms. Anderson and, of course billy. I was obliged to stand perfectly still, my hands folded in front of me, as my mother described in every detail one of the frilliest, girliest party dresses I had ever worn at a tea party. She made sure to emphasize again and again the construction of a built-in stiff organza and starched crinoline net petticoat in the skirt of the white satin frock. 'Of course, this allows for a generous number of stiff petticoats to be worn underneath such a frilly dress. I always insist that my daughter wear a heavily flounced, starched, multitiered bouffant party slip under ALL of her frilly party dresses. My little girl simply adores  the lace and bows that adorn ALL of her petticoats and party slips, don't you, my Dear?' She asked me. 'OH YES, Mother Dearest,' I remember replying quickly. 'She simply INSISTS on wearing petticoats every day!' My Mother continued. "She's such a girly girl, all sugar and spice.' 'Does your darling little Kyra ever wear trousers, Ms. Chadwick?' Ms. Anderson asked my mother. "NEVER! My daughter would never wear trousers. She absolutely disdains them. She is much too feminine ever to wear horrid pants. Isn't that right, Kyra dear? Mother asked me. I curtseyed dutifully again, agreeing with my mother. And then billy's stepmother gushed, "How delightful! Such a beautiful and feminine little girl!' Then Ms. Anderson asked my stepmother if she could take a closer look at my dress and examine the built-in petticoat. My mother replied, "But of course, Ms. Anderson. And I am quite certain that little billy will be quite interested, too.' And then my mother added coldly, "Especially since he is a sissy." The remark stunned billy. Again he wanted to protest, but he did not. My mother continued her cold stare at the little boy, baiting him and then just daring him to say something. She ordered billy to sit on the sofa next to his stepmother. And then she directed me to mince across the room and stand directly in front of billy's mother. My skirts and petticoats rustled excitedly as I moved in my short satin dress. And when I arrived at my spot, standing directly in front of Ms. Anderson, it was obvious my short little party frock was displaying my lacy petticoat hems for Ms. Anderson - and billy - to see. And then Ms. Anderson reached out, lifted the skirt of my dress slightly, and located the attached organdy and crinoline net petticoat sewn into my dress. "Perfect!' Ms. Anderson declared. Little billy just stared at my exposed petticoats, seemingly oblivious to the remark his stepmother had just made. Then Ms. Anderson took her fingers and examined the many layers of stiff petticoats  underneath my short dress, swishing them from side to side. She assessed their starched stiffness. She examined their lacy hems. She commented on the small pink satin rosebuds decorating my bouffant party slip. And she did it slowly...v-e-r-y slowly...for her little sissy stepson to see..."

[petticoated]

Madame Chadwick looked at the ladies in the room, and asked them rhetorically if they would like for her to continue with her discussion of her memories of the tea party with billy anderson. Dr. Jennifer Haynes enthusiastically spoke with wide eyes, "Oh, please, Madame Chadwick. Please do not stop now." "Very well, ladies," Madame continued. "This was my first encounter with a true sissy boy. Obviously my mother had some knowledge of sissies. And she certainly had little billy anderson under her thumb. My mother ordered me to raise the skirt of my frilly party dress just a bit more, to expose even more of the lacy layers of petticoats I was wearing. And I never disobeyed my mother! So I lifted the hem of my short satin dress up just a bit more, to the delight of billy's stepmother. It was obvious that she had every intention of forcing her sissy stepson to sit there and drool in envy of my frilly dresses and petticoats. And it was also clear that my mother had contrived the entire scene. My mother moved closer until she was standing next to me - and directly in front of little billy. 'Do you like Miss Kyra's lacy petticoats and frilled undies, my boy?' My mother asked billy.

[petticoated]

Little billy anderson just froze. He couldn't answer. Of course, that made my Mother even more determined. Soooo...She took Her fingers...I remember her nails were painted a frosted pale pink, and playfully toyed with the wide white lacy hems of the outer petticoats of my bouffant party slip. The snow-white French lace lay between her fingers as she looked at the frightened little boy.  "My dear little boy," my Mother laughed gaily, 'Don't be so scared. I mean... they're only...petticoats! ALL little girls wear them under their frilly dresses. Certainly this is not the first time you have ever seen a little girl wearing a frilly party dress and petticoats. Of course...' She hesitated, looking at Ms. Anderson, 'If you are a sissy, then I suppose there is just a bit of......envy? Hmmmmm...' My mother laughed again. "I AM NOT A SISSY!' Billy desperately declared. 'Oh, really?' My mother responded. She moved to take his hand, offering the little boy an opportunity to feel the lace hem of my pettis. He refused. Both women laughed. As billy squirmed on the couch, my mother ordered me to return upstairs. 'My dear little Kyra, ask the maid to put you in your ice blue satin frock. And...' my Mother said, "Add an EXTRA petticoat with this dress, my dear. One freshly starched. I do believe

Ms. Anderson is particularly interested in seeing you in the blue frock. You don't mind doing this for your Mommy, do you, my dear?' I knew better than to question my Mother. And then She adjusted the front of my dress, lowering the white satin skirt to cover the exposed lace of my party slip, and waited for me to curtsey before I left the room. Again, I made certain that my curtsey was especially feminine, stared straight at billy, a wry smile on my face. As I minced from the room, my petticoats and dress rustling loudly, I thought I heard Ms. Anderson and my Mother discussing 'taking some measurements.'" Madame Chadwick stopped for a moment, allowing any of the women to ask questions. Dr. Haynes asked Madame if this was the first time She had encountered a sissy boy with his mother and Madame's mother in the same room. "Yes, Dr. Haynes, the first time...but not the last. My Mother was very private about what She did and afforded me only occasional glimpses of what sisses were like. But Her humiliation of them, and more importantly, Her absolute control over them, fascinated me. Of course, even though I was a little girl, my Mother also made absolutely certain that even I spent a great deal of time in frilly dresses and petticoats ...even up to the age of 13-14." "And so when did you know that your mother had become quite the expert at petticoating?"  Dr. Haynes asked. "Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, She shared with me Her philosophy about petticoating and sissification. And, of course, Her compensation for performing such a 'service' was extraordinarily generous. Like Her mother before Her, She had become very wealthy petticoating, feminizing, and sissifying reluctant sissies. She sent me to college where I majored in psychology, adolescent psychology, and behavior modification. Shortly after graduating from college, She invited me to witness the initial petticoating of a young lad, about 14 years of age, who was very spirited in his insistance that he had no sissy tendencies. I saw his very first day in dresses. And, of course, once She got a sissy into his first frilly party dress, the sissy was like putty in Her hands. She was very, very selective about her clientele because She could afford to be. Never more than one client at a time. And She always reminded me that the abject humiliation and utter debasement of the sissy was paramount in achieving ultimate and permanent feminization and sissification..."