A few months later: the chatter in the room settled down as Mrs Henley rapped the table. âWelcome to the first meeting of Mothers Organising Disciplinary Schooling for Boys, or MODS for Boys. You have seen my proposals to set up a bank of clothing that you can all share. This should save a lot of money. As you know, it can be quite expensive to have these juvenile sissy clothes made in specially large sizes for your boys.â
âIn the long term, the plan is to train lots of the boys in sewing and dress making so that they can make and maintain these pretty clothes themselves. There should also be savings in bulk-ordering lace, ribbons, nursery-print cloth and wallpapers etc.â The mothers gathered around the table all nodded happily.
âWe can also organise baby-sitting rotas for the girls ensuring that boys as far as possible are babysat by girls a few years younger than them. There will be a computerised booking system where you can rate the babysittersâ performance on discipline, punctuality, dedication etc. They will be able to record the boysâ behaviour, the number of spankings and any resistance to their authority that needs to be dealt with afterwards.â
âFor my part I will ensure that the Council gets glowing reports of the boysâ progress, carefully not mentioning the methods being used to discipline them. So you should be able to operate safely under their radar for many years to come.â
âYou have the written constitution before you. Can we have agreement to adopt these and establish MODS for Boys?â âHear, hearâ echoed around the room and the happy chatter resumed among the mothers.
Mrs Henley rang a bell. Timmy came into the room in his maidâs uniform carrying a tray of drinks. The mothers all smiled as he scampered in â his short petticoats fluttering with each little step forced on him by his high heels. They watched carefully as he reached in to place drinks in front of them for the inevitable exposure of his frilly panties. A couple of them patted his lace-encased bottom just to ensure he knew they appreciated it.
Then another maid minced in wearing a pink uniform. âWelcome George ⌠or Georginaâ, Mrs Henley smiled, admiring his white lace stockings. Georgina distributed drinks on the other side of the table. âOh where did you get those pink pettipants? They are adorable!â âYesâ Georgeâs mother agreed. âGeorgina show the ladies your pettipants properly.â George winced but turned around, put the tray of drinks on the side table, leaned over and flipped up his layers of petticoats to show the full extent of his pettipants. âThey are available online â Iâll send you the link. They have them in all pastel colours.â
âWe should order one of each colour for our library of clothesâ, Mrs Henley suggested. âOh yesâ Timmyâs mother agreed - far too excited about the prospect for his liking. The women chattered again until Georgina gave a pointed cough, still bent over displaying his pettipants since he had not been given permission to straighten up. His mother realised and said âoh yes Georgina, you can continue serving the ladies.â He turned and curtsied â âthank you mother.â
âShall we take our drinks into the garden?â Mrs Henley suggested. Chairs were pushed back and the party of mothers took themselves into the garden where their daughters and other girls from the town were supervising the boysâ play time.
A dozen boys wearing a colourful variety of baby dresses, toddler dresses, petticoated party dresses and school uniforms were all holding hands in a circle. âNow go againâ, Linda ordered, giving a little whack of her paddle against her hand.
There was short hesitation as the boys grimaced at each other. How many times was it now? Twelve, twenty? âCome on!â Linda gave a louder thwack of the paddle. âThe boys started walking clockwise still holding hands.â âRing-a-ring a rosieâ they sang unenthusiastically. They started skipping along creating a very pleasant vision of flouncing petticoats, fluttering lace and ribbons, dancing sausage curls. âRing-a-ring-a-rosieâ they kept repeating as they circled gaining momentum such that dresses and petticoats whirled out giving glimpses of frilly panties and nappy covers. Little Stefi was having difficulty keeping up, forced to waddle quickly by his thick nappy.
âNow!â Linda eventually called out. âWe all fall downâ, the boys sang as they dropped on their bottoms in a shower of petticoats and lace. The mothers all clapped. âAgain!â âEncore.â
The boys helped each other to their feet and all held hands again for the repeat. They had to do it another six times before the ladies grew tired of it. âAll rightâ, Linda shouted. âYou can let hands go and turn to your right.â The boys all turned to their right forming a continuous circular line, expecting to be told to pat each other on the back or some similarly tiresome gesture.
âNow all take the skirts of the boy in front in your hands.â They did as instructed. âAnd lift.â The boys all dutifully raised the skirts of the boy in front to demonstrate that they were all wearing beautifully frilled panties and nappy covers. âNow walk.â The boys walked in the circle holding skirts and petticoats up to ensure that the mothers got to see each one from a favourable angle.