PETTICOATED!

[petticoated]

The ladies in the room clearly were intrigued by Madame Chadwick's first encounter with a little sissy boy and Madame's Mother. "Madame," ~L~ynn's friend Angie asked, Would you please tell us the rest of your story about Billy?" "Oh, yes, please!" Dr. Jennifer Haynes joined in. "Of course, ladies! I would be delighted," Madame said. "Well, ladies, as I said, when I was leaving the room I was sure that I had overheard my Mother discussing 'getting some measurements.' After ascending the staircase and returning to my bedroom, my personal maid, Brigitte, was waiting for me...holding my frilly ice blue satin party dress! It was as if she knew exactly what I needed. And while I was just a little bit surprised, I would learn later that Brigitte, and several other very beautiful French maids employed by my Mother, were complicit in my Mother's systematic petticoating of sissy boys. It was no coincidence that on many days Brigitte would be attired in these beautiful satin uniforms, very short-skirted, and, of course, wearing MANY layers of stiff white lace petticoats beneath their skirts. The petticoats were almost always white, always net or taffeta, and elaborately lace-trimmed. They were low-cut and their beautiful br#$ ( " at " ) %^ were always elegantly displayed. When they were attired in their frilly uniforms, high heeled black stiletto shoes and silk stockings complimented their outfits. Brigitte was BEAUTIFUL! And while she had been employed to serve as my Mother's personal maid to me, she definitely enjoyed her role in my Mother's vocation. Anyway, Brigitte held the dress out for me to examine before hanging it by its matching satin hanger in a white armoire. As she slowly unbuttoned my dress, Brigitte giggled and whispered in my ear, "Is your new little friend enjoying your delightful tea party?" The way she laughed and giggled, it was obvious she was aware of little billy anderson. After removing the dress, Brigitte asked me, "An extra petticoat, Little Miss Kyra?" Brigitte knew. "How did you know, Brigitte?" I asked the beautiful maid. "Brigitte knows everything, Miss Kyra," the maid laughed. After searching though a second pale pink armoire, Brigitte produced one of my very stiffest crinoline mini-petticoats. It had three layers of starched net attached to a common waistband with a fourth outer layer of sheer white lace overlay. It was breathtaking! Brigitte shook the little petticoat in front of me, commenting, "Freshly starched!" And then she sat it on the deep pink pile carpeting of my bedroom. The petticoat was so stiff it stood straight up. "Perfect!" Brigitte exclaimed. "Now let's get you into it, Miss Kyra." I remember wanting to question Brigitte...I KNEW this additional petticoat would make my blue party frock explode with poufiness. But I knew better to protest any of my Mother's wishes. I was a girl...and even I knew I was going to feel like such a sissy girl. But it didn't matter. Brigitte picked up the petticoat, shook it out several times, and while I held up all of the petticoats I was already wearing, the maid slowly slipped it into place. Then I lowered my petticoats and Brigitte took several minutes adjusting them. "Little Miss Kyra, walk up and down so that I can see that your pretty petticoats have the proper swish and sway before we get you into your pretty blue frock,' Brigitte said, with her beautiful French accent. After several passes in front of the beautiful maid, she was satisfied. I remember that the mass of petticoats I was wearing made me feel so...girly. They really did. And, of course, their rustling sound was pronounced even before being put into the blue satin frock. After Brigitte lowered the dress over me and tugged it into place, it was obvious: My petticoats simply could NOT be hidden. Their lacy hems were fully exposed. Now...I felt like such a sissy girl. As soon as Brigitte had secured the last of a long row of buttons in the back of my frilly dress, she tied the wide satin bow for me. Then as she stood in front of me, she spent several minutes adjusting the short skirts of the dress over the exploding frothines of my pettis. Matching white patent leather two-inch heeled Mary Janes were added. And when I thought we were ready to go downstairs, Brigitte stopped. 'I almost forgot!' exclaimed the beautiful maid. Returning to the pale pink armoire...where most of my frilliest and stiffest petticoats were stored...she searched for a few seconds. 'Aha!' She exclaimed delightfully. 'Here it is!' And then she removed another three-layered stiff mini-crinoline white petticoat, the layers attached to a common drawstring satin waistband, the hems trimmed in gleaming white satin ribbon. Taking the petticoat from its matching satin hanger, "Brigitte laid it on the plush carpeing just as she had done earlier witho the one I was now wearing. It, too, was so stiff it stood straight up. "Perfect!!!" Brigitte declared, and with that, she cradled the stiff crinoline confection in her arms, and led me back downstairs...

[petticoated]

The ladies' in the room eyes widened upon hearing Madame say that. Madame smiled, and continued, "Brigitte was wearing an especially short-skirted uniform that day and she also seemed to be wearing extra-full white crinoline petticoats. Normally her petticoats were fairly standard, no real ornamentation. But that day, dear ladies, Brigitte was wearing petticoats which flashed an abundance of ruffled white lace hems I had not ever seen her wear before. And the lacy hems were permanently displaying themselves below her midthigh black satin skirt. I had never seen her wearing those petticoats before. They were VERY feminine and lacy. And, of course, the fact that she was carrying one of my fullest and stiffest minicrinoline petticoats also seemed curious to me. There was no room under my dress for another petticoat! As I descended the stairs ahead of Brigitte, my lacy poetticoat hems were everywhere to be seen. The swishing, swaying, and rustling sound of my skirts could certainly be heard from afar. As we approached the room where billy, his stepmother, and my Mother were waiting, Brigitte stopped me before entering. There seemed to be a slight argument occurring between billy and his stepmother. My mother was holding a measuring tape around little billy's waist. But then it became clearer to me. little billy anderson wasn't arguing at all. No, he was PLEADING! His back was to me and I thought I heard the sound of soft crying. My Mother had a half-disgusted look of contempt on her face, assuring billy that 'little boys don't cry. Little Girls do...and sissies.' 'B...b...but......nooooo.....puhleeze.....nooooo...not this.....please not this......puhleeze....' 'Stand still, billy!' My mother responded. His shoulders were shaking as if he was crying. And when I looked at Brigitte, she was...laughing...albeit softly....but laughing nonetheless.  Ms. Anderson said softly, "Now, now, billy, I still have time to share your naughty little secret when Miss Kyra comes back down. Would you like Mummy to do that?' 'No, Mummy.....no.....please don't.' 'Very well, but you really are starting to test the limits of my patience, billy.' My Mother immediately went back to taking some additional measurements, calling them out to billy's stepmother as she wrote them down. My mother was all business with little billy. ALL business. When the little boy raised his arms, Mother admonished him for not keeping them straight. Nothing little billy could do now would satisfy my mother. She was clearly in charger. And she knew it. When they were finished, mother ordered the boy to sit on the sofa between billy's stepmother and my Mother. Brigitte then led me back into the room, curtseying in front of Ms. Anderson and my Mother. I followed and dutifully curtseyed as well, my petticoats in a froth of net and lace. Poor little billy's eyes darted first to the beautiful Brigitte and her petticoated French Maid's uniform, and then to me, now even more severely petticoated beneath my ice blue satin party dress. My mother then introduced Brigitte to Ms. Anderson and to billy. This time, when Brigitte curtseyed, little billy's eyes were clearly focused on the generous display of Brigitte's frilled undies and stiff petticoats. He didn't even notice the extra petticoat Brigitte was carrying. 'Brigitte is Miss Kyra's personal maid. She assists Kyra by helping her into her frilly party dreses...the dresses, as you know, have so many buttons, it is simply IMPOSSIBLE to remove the dainty dress once she is wearing it. For example,' Mother continued, 'This adorable little party dress is of a silk bridal satin. It is a pale ice blue and has, of course a built-in organdy and net petticoat. In order to give it the proper fullness it deserves, multiple petticoats MUST be worn to ensure it's ultimate ultrafeminine appearance. As a matter of fact, this frilly little confection allows for the real girly girl, like my darling little daughter, to add an extra petticoat. My dear,' ordered my mother, 'You ARE wearing your additional petticoat, are you not?' 'Oh, yes, Mother Dearest,' my sugary girly response met my Mother's approving eyes. 'Very nice, my sweet little daughter. Is it your favorite white net minicrinoline with the exquisity white lace overlay?' 'Yes, Mummy,' I replied. 'That's my sweet little girl.' Then mother turned her attention to Ms. Anderson, remarking, 'According to the measurements, this particular frilly little dress would be the perfect 'starter dress.' An 'initiation dress,' so to speak, Mother laughed gaily, Ms. Anderson joining in the merriment. Billy was squirming. But billy also was staring...directly at my frilly ice blue satin party dress and, of course, my lace petticoats. And then my mother addressed Brigitte. 'Brigitte, please show little billy....err...I mean....little billy's stepmother the adorable mini-crinoline petticoat of Miss Kyra's you are holding. Hold it up closer for billy...err...I mean...Ms. Anderson to examine...'

[petticoated]

'Oui, Madame,' and Brigitte curtseyed again. Brigitte held the stiff, sparkling white crinoline petticoat by its satin drawstring waistband. Of course, Brigitte KNEW exactly what her role was. The tall beautiful maid swished the darling little petticoat, its rustling sounds musically echoing through the parlor. Ms. Anderson asked Brigitte if she could touch the stiff petti layers. As Ms. Anderson made delightful froufrou with the petticoat, she asked my mother inquisitively, 'Ms. Chadwick, is little Kyra wearing the exact same petticoat?' 'No, my dear lady, not exactly. Miss Kyra's petticoat has a lace overskirt and each layer is trimmed with additional frilly white lace. She simply INSISTS that her petticoats be trimmed in lace. Most girly girls prefer the lacier pettis under their frillier party frocks, especially when little boys are around. Miss Kyra enjoys treating the more inquisitive lads to glimpses of frilled lace. It is very obvious your little billy prefers lace petticoats. Then again, most sissies do.' My Mother declared, glaring icily at billy. Poor little billy. His face reddened. And now the beautiful French maid, Brigitte, looked straight at the little boy.  He gulped. Brigitte took the stiff petticoat, an epitome of femininity and sissydom, and dropped it into the poor boys lap. 'Monsieur, would you like to hold Mademoiselle Kyra's jupon?' The beautiful maid inched closer, her own lavish and lacy petticoats peeking out as she towered over the little boy nervously squirming on the sofa. Billy tried to push it away. But Brigitte would have none of that. "Tut Tut, poule mouille'e'. Effe'mine'. ' And now little billy anderson was stuck...holding a stiff and freshly starched white crinoline mini-petticoat fit for a little girl. "Brigitte aimerions vous mettre dans une robe fronce'e. Assurez-vous tous mignons et girly.' The maid giggled. And then she flashed more layers of net and lace at the little boy. She fingered the lacy hems of her petticoats. She was just close enough to little billy for the scent of her sweet flowery perfume to waft in his direction. The room was silent. Brigitte continued, speaking softly in her most ultrafeminine voice, 'Tournez-vous dans une mouille'e.' And then she giggled coquettishly, 'Petticoat vous.' That poor little boy never had a chance to say anything. And while he didn't understand French, he DID understand Brigitte. Then the beautiful and sensual Brigitte took that stiff mini-crinoline petticoat from billy, handed it to me, and took the little boy by his nervous hand and slowly, very s-l-o-w-l-y, pulled him up from the couch. In her high heels, she towered over him. 'Etes-vous de Brigitte jupons garpon sissy peu?' She forced billy to take back the petticoat, asking him, 'Allez-vous mettre sur votre jupe pour Mlle Brigitte, petit garcon? Vous devez etre jupons,' she said softly to the little boy. 'Vous estes une poule mouille'e.' Her sweet perfume, layers of lace petticoats, short satin dress, and wonderful cleavage simply were too much for little billy. 'Maintenant, nous allons vous envoyer en un jupon. Brigitte vous trouverons une jolie robe a' frous-frous parti la'-dessus. Toutes les dentelles et frous-frous. Parfait pour la petite fille sissy Brigitte.' Taking the short mini-crinoline from billy, Brigitte gently, and femininely, shook it in front of him, smiling, and whispering sweetly, 'Mlle Brigitte savais seulement que vous serait facile de mettre dans un jupon. Une telle Sissy," the beautiful maid giggled. billy anderson never moved. Brigitte again fingered the lacy hems of her stiff rustling petticoats, a triumphant look on her face. And then she slowly removed the satin and lace serving apron the little boy had been wearing. She handed it to Ms. Anderson. The beautiful maid then took the stiffly starched mini-crinoline petticoat and placed it on the floor, DIRECTLY in front of the frightened,  mesmerized boy. 'Maintenant l'etape dans votre jupon, garcon effe'mine'.' Billy never hesitated. Brigitte never gave him the chance. She pointed to the petticoat, waited for billy to take the waistband, and before he could resist, the beautiful maid pointed to billy to pull the petticoat up to his waist.The scene was electric. That was the first time I had ever seen a sissy. And that was the first time I had ever witnessed a sissy being petticoated for the first time. As soon as billy had pulled his petticoat up to his waist, the beautiful maid quickly moved to tie the drawstring in the back. As she tightened it, she tied it in a double-knot. And then, in her best English, Brigitte looked at billy's stepmother and said, "You see, I told you he wouldn't resist me...'"

[petticoated]

~L~ynn's friend Angie briefly interrupted Madame Chadwick with the question, "Just like that?" "Yes, my dear, just like that!" Madame laughed. But there is more, if you'd like for me to continue." "Please! Please do continue, Madame," Dr. Jennifer Haynes exclaimed. "This is simply amazing!" "Very well, my dear ladies," Madame Chadwick said. "I remember the incredible persuasive powers Brigitte's exquisite femininity gave her over that poor little sissy boy. Even at my young age, I was still amazed. Brigitte's femininity had been her ultimate weapon. However, once little billy had been coaxed into his first petticoat, my Mother did not stop there. "Brigitte?" My Mother asked the beautiful maid. "Oui, Mademoiselle?" Brigitte dropped a deep curtsey, her pettis rustling. "Go to Miss Kyra's boudoir and bring me the mini-crinoline, white five-tiered starched net, with the pale pink bows.' 'Oui, Mlle.' Brigitte curtseyed. As a look of horror on billy's face appeared, Brigitte stood in front of her little male charge, took her fingers and daintily swished the little boy's petticoat back and forth slowly, v-e-r-y slowly, whispering in little billy anderson's ear, and giggling femininely, "Si Billy maitriser un bon petit garcon, je mai que vous mettez dans une robe de soire'e a' froufrous.' And then she flicked billy's stiff petticoat layers with her deep red painted fingernails, fingered her own lace petticoats, and minced out of the room, treating her audience to a generous view of her petticoats as she coquettishly swung her hands and brushed her short uniform's skirts, creating a noisy rustling feminine frou frou. I was so happy Brigitte had taught me French because her last statement to billy, before she left the parlor, helped me to realize what was to happen next." Dr. Jennifer Haynes asked Madame, "What had Brigitte said to billy as she left the room, Madame?"  Madame laughed, "Brigitte said 'If master billy is a good little boy, Miss Brigitte may just put you into a frilly party dress...'"

[petticoated]

Angie's mouth dropped open and Madame smiled. She continued: "I stood there in that parlor and watched my Mother take complete control. Billy clinched his fists in anger...and in shame...and looked at his stepmother, demanding that they leave that minute. And when he tried desperately to get out of his petticoat, well..." Madame laughed, "He found that Brigitte had tied the petticoat's satin drawstring so tightly it was impossible. I remember watching him struggle desperately to free himself from the feminine garment. I remember laughing at him. My Mother admonished me for it. And then she looked at Ms. Anderson, remarking casually, 'It's not altogether unusual for little boys like billy here to initially resist being petticoated. Actually it's rather amusing. Brigitte will return shortly and we will put an end to his silliness once and for all. While we are waiting, Ms. Anderson, perhaps you would like Miss Kyra to serve you another cup of tea?' Ms. Anderson, clearly nervous at what she was witnessing, yet nevertheless quite pleased that her recalcitrant little stepson finally was being tamed, said that she would love another cup. My Mother summoned me to stand in front of her  while She tied a frothy and lacy white satin pinafore over my ice blue party dress. As she tied the pinafore in a big bow, she fluffed out my skirts and petticoats, taking much more time than really necessary, looking straight at frightened billy anderson the whole time. 'Master billy, don't you simply adore my little girl's petticoats? Hmmmmm...? Their rustle? Their swish? So feminine? Little girls simply adore wearing frilly party dresses and petticoats. Especially my little Kyra here. Brigitte personally supervises her wardrobe selection each and every day. Then my Mother looked at Ms. Anderson, remarking, 'My dear lady, Brigitte has knowledge some of other personal maids who would simply love to be young master billy's personal maid. I will be delighted to share their names with you. Wouldn't you LOVE a personal maid just like Brigitte, billy?' Little billy clinched his fists in anger. He ran over to his stepmother, his petticoats delightfully swishing and rustling as he scurried to her. And then he begged her, 'Stepmother...err...Mummy, please take me home...please don't make me wear this! Please! I'm a boy! Mummy, 'I'M A BOYYYYYY!' When Ms. Anderson hesitated in her response, my Mother maintained control. 'Young man! Little girls do NOT run when they are in petticoats. And clearly YOU are in petticoats! One more outburst out of you and I will order Brigitte to apply the switch to your backside. You are making quite an embarrassment of yourself as we try to have this delightful tea party. NOW...get back over here...THIS INSTANT...and I'll fix your petticoats for you. You have wrinkled them...and that is quite unacceptable. Meanwhile, Miss Kyra will be serving us another cup of tea. You, on the other hand, will stand in the center of the room, hands folded demurely in front of you, so still you could hear a pin drop.' Billy looked pleadingly at his stepmother for help, for a reprieve, but it never came. As I minced over to Ms. Anderson to refill her teacup, billy anderson retreated...albeitly slowly...to stand in the center of the room, directly in front of my mother. While my Mother made frou frou with his petticoats, smoothing out wrinkles, she remarked to billy that he had 'much to learn about comporting yourself properly in petticoats. Make no mistake about it, young man, that will be corrected...' At that moment the beautiful Brigitte minced back into the parlor, carrying one of my favorite petticoats. It wa soooooooo full! Five tiers of stiff sparkling snow white net. Freshly starched. And the cutest little pink satin bows all over the outer layer. It was mini length, of course, and not unlike a tutu. 'Has master billy been difficult, Mademoiselle?' Brigitte asked, after drobbing her curtsey. 'I am afraid he has been quite disrespectful, Brigitte, and his boyish tendencies have caused him to be very disruptive of our little tea party,' Mother answered. Brigitte, her arms laden with the frilly confection of net and satin, looked directly at billy, 'Have you been a bad little boy, master billy?' 'Brigitte...pleae...please...don't make me...'Before billy could finish, Brigitte minced over to the poor boy. The beautiful Brigitte, her long jet black hair now out of its ponytail and flowing beautifully was swept aside by her right hand femininely. She flashed glimpses of her lace. And then she worked her feminine magic...again. Whispering in the poor boy's ear, barely audible, she spoke soooooo girlishly and disarmingly femininely, 'Mlle Brigitte jupons me'chants garcons. Je les fais tre's fe'minin et de'licat, et las transformer en minaudant sissies little. Oui, poule mouille'e?' 'B...b...b...but...Brigitte, please...please...don't do this to me...please don't make me...' 'Shush, poule mouille'e!...'

[petticoated]

"B...b...but, Brigitte! Please...puhleeeeze...I'm begging you...I'll be good..' The tall beautiful black haired french beauty moved closer. She took the newest petticoat, yes, the five-tiered white net mini, resplendent with dainty pink satin bows adorning the outer tier, and she dangled it enticingly...teasingly...in front of her charge. She smiled seductively. Licked her red lipstick. Pouted. 'It is time, mon garcon effe'mine',' the beautiful maid said calmly. But billy cowered away from the approaching maid...and Her prized petticoat.  Billy pointed at me. 'Please...oh NO! PLEASE! NOT in front of her!!! She's a GIRL!!!' Brigitte responded, laughing, 'Why, of course she's a girl!' 'B...b...but...I...I...' Billy was desperately pleading his case. Brigitte moved closer to billy. She spoke again in French. 'Vous devez etre jupons, master billy.' No...no...please...' The maid inched closer. Her petticoats rustled as she approached him. billy looked desperately to his stepmother for respite. he got none. 'My boy, I have been warning you about your behavior and your reluctancde to obey me. And there is still that little secret of yours,' Ms. Anderson said. 'You need to be petticoated.' A stunned billy anderson had heard his stepmother just pass sentence on him. I wondered what billy would do now. He cried. He looked at his stepmother, standing in his petticoat, and about to be put into another even frillier and daintier one. Brigitte giggled, curtseyed to Ms. Anderson, and acknowledged, excitedly, 'Ohhh Oui, Mademoiselle!' Holding out the bouffant confection by its waistband, the tall maid shook the petticoat, and with her outstretched hand, offered it to billy. 'Put it on...right now, Sissy boy.' This time Brigitte's tone was firm. No nonsense. She fingered the lace hems of Her own stiff net petticoats, billowing out from underneath Her abbreviated black satin maid's dress. She had called him a sissy. 'Lower it over your head, sissy, and I will help you fluff it out all prettily after you have put it on. Now do it...'

[petticoated]

'NO!!! NO!!! I won't do it! I won't! LLL...LLL...Looooookkkkk at it.....it's all...all...' The sexy maid interrupted the stammering little boy, fingering the pink satin bows on the outer tier of the frilly five-layer stiff white rustling feminine confection. 'Girly? Is that the word you are looking for, Monsieur Billy? Hmmmmm...?" Brigitte giggled, and, then, standing directly over the little boy, took the candy cotton confection of satin and net and placed it skillfully over the sobbing little boy's head and shoulders, s-l-o-w-l-y slithering and sliding the petti into place at his slim waistline. As the beautiful maid quickly tied the drawstring tightly in the back, she moved in front of billy anderson, meticulously fluffing the multi layers of TWO petticoats now firmly encasing the hapless boy. 'J'adore les petits garcons sissy en jupons.' Brigitte giggled, as she fluffed the poor boy's petticoat layers. And as poor little billy anderson sobbed quietly, my mother stated, matter of factly, to billy's stepmother, 'Brigitte has a way with recalcitrant little boys...and reluctant sissies. They simply cannot resist her feminine charms. 'Brigitte?' My mother asked the pretty maid. 'Oui, Mademoiselle?' Brigitte curtsied. 'Well done!' 'Merci, Mademoiselle!' Brigitte smiled triumphantly. 'I wonder.....' My mother's voice tailed off, as if in deep thought. But I also knw my mother was using this moment for maximum dramatic effect. 'Miss Kyra,' my Mother addressed me. 'Stand next to billy, please, my darling daughter.' Billy's eyes opened wide. It was obvious he didn't want me...a GIRL(!), any closer to the humiliation he was undergoing. I curtseyed obediently to my mother and minced across the room until I was standing next to billy. His eyes were red with shame from his sobbing. 'Ahhhhh, yes!' My mother exclaimed after a few moments of intense scrutiny. Then she turned to address billy's stepmother, 'My dear Ms. Anderson, my daughter has a particularly frilly pale pink satin party frock, a very feminine and girly little party dress...and I think...yes....(!!!)...your little billy...' NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!' billy anderson suddenly interrupted my mother. He jumped up and down, his petticoats rustling and swishing excitedly. "PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! Don't do this to me, Mummy! Oh PLEASE! NOT A DRESS! PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME WEAR A...A...A...DRESS!' billy anderson received no respite from anyboyd in that room. As a matter of fact, my Mother admonished him for interrupting her conversation with his stepmother. And Ms. Anderson, clearly embarrassed at his rude outburst, threatened to disclose billy's 'little secret.' billy ran his hands nervously through his longish hair and rubbed his face in a state of confusion and shame. Brigitte interjected, "Now, now, billy. It's okay. After al it's just a dress. And such a frilly little dress it is! I have put Little Miss kyra in that dress several times and she simply adores wearing it! Don't you, Miss Kyra?' I was somewhat surprised by Brigitte's question but, of course, I knew exactly how to answer. 'Yes, Brigitte! It's so frilly! And we girls just love pink! And it's such a poufy little dress I can wear oodles of petticoats beneath it! And ALL girls just love wearing petticoats under their frilly dainty dresses.' I remember teasingly fingering the delicate lacy hems of my own petticoats as I responded with delight to Brigitte's question. It was obvious little billy anderson realized what was about to happen to him..."