PETTICOATED!

[petticoated]

Madame Chadwick smiled at Dr. Jennifer Haynes. "Of course, my dear. Of course. But let me first say that it was at that moment when I discovered that no sissy, no matter how hard he tries, can hide his little secrets forever. Sooner or later he is going to be exposed. Just as our dear Rob was exposed. And just as Little Billy Anderson was that afternoon, many years ago. Ahhh yes, dear ladies, how well I remember that afternoon. Ms. Anderson, billy's stepmother, took the photo albums from Brigitte and slowly began to open the first one. She flipped through several pages while littly billy sat, frozen with fear, and shamefully petticoated by the women in the room. 'Now, my frilly little stepson, do you wish to tell the ladies and Miss Kyra ALL about your adorable little collection?' 'Puhleeeeeze, Stepmummy, please don't show them to anybody...especially HER!' Little billy pointed directly at me. 'Nonsense!' Exclaimed Ms. Anderson. 'Why I would think Little Miss Kyra would be the FIRST person you would want to show. After all, she IS a little girl. And a very feminine and pretty little girl at that. She would simply adore looking at your little collection!' Ms. Anderson was insistent. Little billy begged and pleaded again.  'Stop your silliness this instant!' Ms. Anderson ordered her sissy stepson. 'One more word out of you and I'll give you something to really cry about! For heaven's sake, you even cry like a prissy little girl. Now, are YOU going to tell the ladies about your litttle collection, billy, or do you wish for me to tell them? Hmmm...?' The poor little boy quickly rose out of the straight back chair in desperation. His skirts were a mess. He was afforded NO respite. 'Young man!' Exclaimed my Mother. 'Fluff your skirts immediately and make sure that your petticoats have no wrinkles in them. I will NOT tolerate a simpering little petticoated sissy boy displaying even the slightest unfeminine mannerisms, especially while you are wearing one of MY little girl's frilliest and daintiest party dresses. How dare you! Sissies are like little girls - to be seen and NOT heard. Now you will gather your skirts, fluff them out, eliminate wrinkles in your petticoats, and be seated. And be sure to smoothe your skirts appropriately before you sit down. And be quick about it!!!!!' The room was silent, except for the loud rustling of starched crinoline, net, satin, and lace. When little billy looked to his Stepmother for respite, she simply raised her eyebrows, glared at her little stepson, and said, 'Fix every single wrinkle in your petticoats, my dear little stepson. Another word out of you and you will stand in the corner for the rest of the afternoon.' The poor litle boy sniffled, wiped the tears from his eyes, and complied with his Stepmother's orders. My mother casually remarked to Ms. Anderson. 'Once the sissy is petticoated and frocked, he is quick to understand his place in the pecking order. Just keep him in frilly party dresses, oodles of stiff lacy petticoats, and eventually he will accept his feminization. It is quite humorous how most sissies, like your deal little stepson, make these silly attempts to resist sissification and petticoating. Secretly, most sissies adore wearing petticoats and frilly party dresses....'

[petticoated]

Bily's Stepmother, Ms. Anderson, laughed gaily as She responded to my Mother by saying, "I do believe my little stepson IS indeed a sissy' And then She dropped the bombshell. She took the pale pink photo album, stopped flipping through the pages, turned back to the fist page, and began reading, 'Ooooooooo...be glad you are a girl so you can wear bouffant party slips and petticoats that little girls love. They're almost too pretty to cover.' Little billy anderson squirmed in the chair as his petticoats rustled. His face reddened. Ms. Anderson continued. She flipped the page and read again, Her voice exaggerated much like an excited little girly girl's voice would sound, 'Pretty little feminine pictures in full, full bouffant party slips resplendent with dainty bows and frilly lace.' Little billy buried his head in his hands. He couldn't look. His Stepmother continued, flipping another page, and reading, 'Little girls love to get frilly slips.' She turned the page again, 'Every little miss wishes for bouffant party slips.'   I looked at little billy anderson but he could not bear to uncover his face. Ms. Anderson continued flipping the pages and reading, 'What little girl wouldn't love a pretty bouffant petticoat to wear under her dainty party dresses?' Little billy and his photo albums/scrapbooks had betrayed him. And my Mother planned to take full advantage of it.

[petticoated]

Ms. Anderson flipped another page in the pale pink scrapbook/photo album, laughed gaily, and read, 'For every little princess...a beautiful bouffant party slip...to wear under her frilliest Easter dress. It has adjustable satin straps, elasticized waist...and SIX tiers of marquisette for that bouffant petal look...in white with lace trim...' Everyone in the room was now staring at poor billy...and while that little boy dared not raise his head, it was obvious he felt all eyes were on him. Ms. Anderson turned another page, paused briefly, and recited, 'Feminine little girls simply adore their Easter pretties...and they're so very specially priced...fun clothes and frankly feminine apparel for EVERY HOUR OF THE DAY!...' Ms. Anderson accentuated that last part. And then she added, 'Just imagine...wearing a stiff frilly petticoat or a lacy bouffant party slip ALL DAY...how girly is that!' Hmmmmm....? And then my Mother added, 'My dear Ms. Anderson, my darling little daughter frequently spends the entire afternoon wearing petticoats and a stiff bouffant party slip as she minces about the house. She simply LOVES to wear her petticoats! Don't you my dear?' My mother turned to look at me, gleaming proudly, and, of course, I dared not disappoint her with my answer. 'Ohhhhh YES, Mummy! I love wearing just my petticoats.They make me feel so feminine. And I feel sooooo lucky when Mummy allows me to wear a bouffant party slip around the house. Especially the really stiff rustling ones...with all the lace!' I made sure billy could hear every excited word I was saying. Every word. And then my mother decided to take it a step farther. She addressed Ms. Anderson proudly. 'My dear lady, there was a time...a very short time...thankfully...that my dear little daughter Kyra was a...I can't believe I am saying this...but my dear little girl was a ... a ... a tomboy. She wanted to play those dreadful rough and tumble games with the boys...and...even worse...wear trousers! I was aghast!' Oh my!' Exclaimed billy's Stepmother. 'Whatever did you do? Your little daughter is the perfect little girl now. Why she's the most feminine little girl I know.' With that, even little billy anderson looked up. And when he did, my Mother calmly...and firmly responded, "I petticoated her. And I assigned Brigitte exclusively to be her personal maid. Brigitte very quickly tamed any and all of Little Miss Kyra's tomboyish ambitions. Didn't she, my dear little daughter?' 'Yes, Mummy Dearest,' I responded. And then, just for good measure, my Mother asked me, 'And how do you feel about boys and trousers now, my Dear?' 'I find the thought of wearing trousers repugnant. Dresses are ever so much more fun to wear! Especially the frilly party dresses my Mummy buys for me, Dear Ms. Anderson.' I continued. 'Most boys have no idea how much more fun it is to wear dresses and petticoats. I hate pants!' My Mother smiled approvingly. Billy anderson looked at me, as if he were trying to imagaine for even a minute how I had ever been a tomboy. I made froufrou with my petticoat layers. I fingered their lacy hems. And I glared at that mean little boy...who was now getting his comeuppance. And I loved it. Ms. Anderson flipped another page in the scrapbook and looked at her now-petticoated stepson. 'I especially like this little ad.' And then she started to read. But before she could begin, little billy anderson moved his head from his buried hands, looked at his Stepmother with his tear-stained eyes, and pleaded for Her to stop. "Please, Stepmummy...puhleeze....please stop......'

[petticoated]

Ms. Anderson glared icily at billy...laughed at him...and continued reading, 'Be glad YOU are a girl so you can wear these especially bouffant six-tiered starched net petticoats...adorned with lavish lace trim on each petticoat layer...fit for only the most ultrafeminine little miss...' Ms. Anderson paused, and added, teasingly, or should I say, 'sisssssssssss...' Her voice trailed off. She looked at her petticoated stepson, and ordered him to 'explain yourself, young man,' her voice dripping with sarcasm as she addressed lher stepson as 'man.' My Mother ridiculed the little boy, "My, my, my, sissy boy. How long have you been cutting your sweet little petticoat ads out of the newspapers and magazines? Hmmmm? Is that your shameful little secret? I knew it. I just knew it. All along you have secretly wanted to wear dainty bouffant party slips and frilly party dresses, haven't you, little boy?' Billy's face was red with embarrassment. How utterly sweet and feminine, little boy!' Ms. Anderson interrupted her stepson's quiet sobbing with another bombshell. "Of course, what my dear little boy does not know is that I have known about his naughty little collection from the time he first started. His very first petticoat! And, of course, I just HAD to go out and purchase each and every one I found that he had cut out of the magazines and added to his little photo album collection. I have dozens of petticoats and party slips hidden away in a very secret part of the house. Billy's stunned face looked at his Stepmother. 'Oh...n...n..noooooooooo, Stepmummy........puhleeze.......I didn't mean anything by it........really, I didn't.' He wasn't convincing. 'How delightful!' My mother taunted. "A sissy.....mincing about the house.....in stiff rustling party slips and petticoats. A perfect candidate for petticoat discipline. A willing sissy...ready to accept his feminized fate. Yes, my sweet little sissy boy...' Mother paused, before dropping yet another bombshell...'Brigitte will be very happy to be working for your Stepmother for the next YEAR!...'

[petticoated]

The ladies in the room who had listened intently to Madame Chadwick were stunned. "OMG," exclaimed ~L~ynn's friend, Angie. "Do you mean your own personal maid, Brigitte, went to work for Ms. Anderson, Madame?" "Yes, Dear!" Madame responded. Brigitte left that evening with Ms. Anderson and little billy anderson. She actually worked as Ms. Anderson's personal maid to her stepson for several years. She was employed to specifically petticoat and sissify billy. My Mother had known Brigitte through a mutual friend of hers. And even though I was a girl, I had made the fatal mistake, at least in the eyes of my Mother, of acting too tomboyish. So I, too, was petticoated. It was not uncommon to petticoat tomboys as well as recalcitrant little boys and, in billy's case, bad boys with latent sissy tendencies. Brigitte had been trained by a Mademoiselle Deschamps in Paris. My Mother knew Madame Deschamps and quickly became interested in petticoat discipline. My Mother did not actually practice it directly, however, until I left for college. She had, however, overseen its successful implementation on me. And...of course, on little billy. "How long were you petticoated, Madame?" asked the beautiful Dr. Jennifer Haynes. "I was fist petticoated at the age of nine and did not graduate from little girl-style party dresses and petticoats until my sixteenth birthday," Madame responded. I was home-schooled by a Governess. And after Brigitte left to join Ms. Anderson and billy, Brigitte's twin sister, Colette, was employed by my Mother to personally supervise my own training to be the perfect little girl. Occasionally, Mother's ladyfriends would bring one of their sons to our home for Sunday tea and, of course, I would be properly frocked and petticoated for the ladies and their little male charges to see. But my experience with little billy was the only time I actually saw my Mother use her expertise and put a boy in petticoats. I must say, dear ladies, I was mesmerized by the power and almost hypnotic control my frilly party dreses and petticoats had on those poor little unsuspecting sissies who would come to visit my Mother. But I loved it! I remember at the age of fifteen being forced to wear one of he daintiest and frilliest little party frocks I can ever remember wearing. White bridal satin. Lacy. VERY lacy. And the skirt was extremely full and billowing. My

Mother had ordered me to wear a six-tiered starched crinoline bouffant party slip and TWO six-tiered matching starched crinoline petticoats. I had never heard or felt my skirts rustle like that in my life. Never.  I was so embarrassed...at the age of fifteen! But I dared not disobey my Mother. The guests that Sunday afternoon were a lady and her 11-year-old nephew. His name was Percy. A little on the smallish side. I was bigger than Percy. The lady was his Aunt Helen. She was beautiful. She made Percy sit on the sofa right next to her. As I served tea, I knew Percy couldn't keep his greedy little eyes off my lace petticoats. And my dainty little party dress, of course, was so short and so frilly I couldn't conceal my pettis. I remember as I served Percy's tea to him, I took my time, slowly taking his tea cup and saucer, asking hin how much sugar he wanted, and then slowly pouring the hot tea into his cup. When I asked the little boy if there was anything else I could get for him, he just stared at me. At my swishing lacy petticoat hems. I giggled. And in my girliest voice possible, I asked him if he liked my petticoats. It caught Percy by surprise. His Aunt laughed. Percy just froze. So I move closer to Percy, took my right hand, and raised the white satin skirt of my party dress up just a bit to reveal my lacy petticoat layers. I fingered the lacy hems, commenting to Percy that "Little boys just don't know what they're missing. Isn't it a sham that they can't wear frilly party dresses and petticoats, too? They are ever so much more fun than those dull old trousers." That poor boy broke out in a cold sweat. And when his Aunt Helen asked me to join him on the sofa, I finished serving tea, returned to the spot on the sofa beside Percy, slowly smoothed out my skirts before sitting down, and squeezed in right next to him. It was so funny. My billowing petticoats spilled out all over Percy's lap. And because he was wearing short shorts, the lacy hems covered his little hairless legs. I laughed at his predicament. He didn't know what to do. Sooooo........I fingered MY lace as the petticoats rested on HIS legs. I slowly grabbed one of his trembling little hands, he was weak.....so weak....like a sissy.....and 'invited' him to touch MY lace. He tried to resist. But it was obvious he was a sissy. That 'deer-in-the-headlight look of fear in his eyes. And his inability to resist. So I forced him to finger my lace while I commented...again...how much more fun it was to be a girl. And when he tried to remove his hand from the pile of white lace and net, I stopped him. I made him keep his hand right there, buried in my lace..."

[petticoated]

Madame Chadwick continued, "That little boy, Percy, turned red in the face with embarrassment. He never once tried to pull his little hand away. He was soooooo weak! I knew right then that I wanted to dominate every single man I ever encountered. And when I readied myself for college, my dear Mother and I had a long conversation about her vast experience and knowledge of petticoat discipline and feminization. She told me that She and a very  select closed circle of ladyfriends of hers were in very high demand from wealthy, often aristocratic European families desiring Her to 'tame' disobedient and disrespectful males as well as latent sissies and yes, dear ladies, even the occasional tomboy. When She told me how much She was compensated for her services, I begged Her to allow me to follow in Her footsteps. I attended the very best schools and universities in France and England and majored in Psychology, with an emphasis in adolescents and behavior modification. And I have been satisfying clients ever since.  I love nothing more than the complete subjugation and sissification of males. Humiliating and embarrassing them while I slowly feminize them by intense petticoating gives me great pleasure. I find it quite amusing as I crush every last vestige of their masculinity." Suddenly there was a knock at the door to the parlor in which the ladies were sitting. As Dr. Jennifer Haynes  got up to open the door, the ladies were delighted to see their tall beautiful blonde girlfriend, still frocked and petticoated just as Madame Chadwick had ordered, and poor rob, also frocked and petticoated just as Madame Chadwick had ordered. ~L~ynn dragged her boyfriend by the hand to the middle of the room, their petticoats swishing and rustling musically. "Madame Chadwick," ~L~ynn said. "Yes my dear," responded Madame. "Now that little master robby and I are betrothed, he would like to make a request of you, if you please." Yes, the marriage certificate had been signed by rob in the bedroom...that frilly ultrafeminine boudoir...surrounded by racks of frilly party dresses...while the beautiful ~L~ynn had had her little boytoy all to herself. Madame's law degree had qualified her to marry couples. And now it was done. rob had never had a chance to resist. The beautiful blonde's abject femininity and dominance had ovewhelmed him. "Of course, my dear ~L~ynn. And let all of us be among the very first to congratulate you on your marriage to little rob. I am quite certain that you will give him the guidance and the discipline that he has been lacking. Now, my dear rob, what is it you wish to ask Madame? And do NOT forget to curtsey, young man," Madame added. The poor little man dropped his best girly curtsey yet. He held his form until Madame allowed him to stand and face her. "Now my dear little boy, what is it that you request of Madame?" "Um...Um..uh...I...I...," rob's face reddened. The beautiful women in the room were staring intently at him. ~L~ynn was standing tall, a triumphant look on her face, her hands on her hips. Rob nervously plucked at the skirts of his short satin party dress. "Um, Madame....I...I need a...a...um....Governess....to feminize.......sissify.........and to......um.....um.....pet...ti....coat..............me." "I completely agree, young man. Do you have anybody in mind, rob?" rob gulped. "Y...Y...es, Madame. We," he looked at the beautiful blonde ~L~ynn, "er...um....I...was hoping that...that...You...would be my Governess, Madame." "Why how very sweet of you, rob!" Madame exclaimed.

[petticoated]

"What do you say to Madame Chadwick, Honey?" ~L~ynn prompted her boytoy. rob gulped. He stammered again, "Thank you, Madame.....um...um....I'll promise to...to...to.........be.......a.......goood.....................little..........boyyyyyyy." And then he dropped another deep respectful curtsey. His face burned with shame as all of the beautiful women in the room giggled. "Hmmmmmm...." said Madame, "So you admit that you have been a bad little boy, rob?" "Y....yes, Madame." He looked shamefaced down at the floor. "And you are fully aware of how I discipline bad little boys, rob?" "Y...yes, Madame." "And just how do I discipline bad little boys, rob?" "You petticoat them, Madame." "Very good, master robbbie!" Madame answered. Then She added, "And I feminize them, rob. I sissify them slowly, and crush every little bit of remaining masculinity in them. A weak, limp-wristed docile and subservient little sissy who will come to abhor and detest anything even remotely masculine. An ultrafeminine feminized girly boy whose only purpose will be to serve and amuse women and girls. I will humiliate you and embarrass you in public. I intend to make YOU the most feminine sissy I have EVER petticoated. Do I make myself clear, young master robbie?" All eyes were on the hapless little man. "Beg me to petticoat you, rob.......beg me." The shamefaced little man desperately looked at his new bride for help. But the stunningly beautiful and feminine blonde just stood triumphantly with her hands still on her hips, her own lacy petticoat layers proudly displaying themselves from beneath her ultra-short and ultrafeminine little girl party dress. Her feminine beauty was too much for him. The room was silent, save for the occasional rustle and swish of petticoats, satin, and lace. rob stood frozen. And then, s-l-o-w-l-y, very slowly, he dropped yet another dutiful curtsey and begged the powerful Madame Chadwick to "please petticoat me. I promise to obey You, Madame Chadwick." Madame looked at the beautiful ~L~ynn and asked her if it was Her desire to hire a Governes for her "sissy husband." "Absolutely, Madame," ~L~ynn coldly answered. "I will pay you anything you want." "Then is it my understanding that all of your husband's funds have been transferred to your name, my dear?" "Done." ~L~ynn responded. "Excellent, my dear!" exclaimed Madame. "I intend for rob to be my final project before I pass on all of my clients to my niece, Lacey. She is a bright young woman who is learning very fast. I intend to make rob my ultimate model for success and wish for Lacey to witness his transformation. So she will be assisting me." "Whatever You say, Madame," ~L~ynn agreed quickly. "Excellent! My fee will be $25 million for five years. Lacey will be compensated one million per year to serve as my assistant. I will be hiring two maids for rob. They will live here on the premises. I will be paying them at least $250 thousand per year with a special 'petticoating bonus,' payable at the end of their fifth year. I will also be hiring a fulltime dressmaker whose specialty, of course, will be those adorable frilly little party dresses which I intend to keep rob in. There will be additional expenses incurred as we move along. But I can guarantee you OPTIMUM results." rob never said a word. The women in the room were stunned. They had no idea Madame Chadwick was able to charge these prices. But it was obvious She had dealt with the wealthy and the aristocratic, just as her mother had done. "A drop in the bucket, Madame," said ~L~ynn. "Right, Honey?" She asked rob. "Yes, dear," rob answered. "YOU will address Ms. ~L~ynn as 'Auntie ~L~ynn' fron now on, sissyboy. Do I make myself clear?" Madame demanded coldly. Her voice was like thunder. She was taking charge. "Y...y...es, Madame." rob meekly answered.