The Autobiography of a Petticoated Youth and His Friends Book 3

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Oh, sorry,” she said. She relaxed her grip. “Is that better?” She gave it a little rub, and I just gulped, and nodded ‘yes!’ But aunt, I don’t have a skirt; I said, then closed my eyes and waited for her slap. But don’t know why, she didn’t.

returned, with no less than Mrs. Edna Bainbridge herself in tow. The door was ominously shut behind them. My auntie Joan was an attractive 35-year-old who was living in Sydney. My cousins Sue and Anne were quite attractive and 17 and 14 respectively. They were all very pretty and feminine in their manner and dress. The farm, being about three hours from Sydney, ten minutes from the village and one hour from the town, was fairly isolated and the weather was cooling off so not many people would be visiting. around the hips and rear, with a constricting waistband. It was so embarrassing to then have to walk around in front of After a while, there they showed me a stream with an iron pipe across it, and told Debbie and myself, they used to dare other kids to cross on it, and then asked Debbie, do you wish to try? About the reality, it’s just a story, but I tried to keep it as real as possible. Yeah, maybe I leaned too hard on the number of beating – like you said – but it fictionally happened inside my intuitive self, and the rational me didn’t argue about it.

What to expect...

Stand up; she said once more, and pulled the chain. Again, I tried, but my legs couldn’t support me. No dear , this one doesn’t have it, because it’s a ladies fash ion book, and they won’t showcase men’s, happy? She asked me. I became happy. Thanks aunt; I replied. But little me doesn’t know that, my happiness won’t stay long.

Sort of. I discussed it with him. We decided on a six months’ trial. He’d go to school dressed a boy but at home he’d be Tammy. As soon as he got in from school he’d slip upstairs and put on something girly. If he got good reports from his teacher he could have time off. If he got bad reports the petticoat punishment would continue. If he got really bad reports he’d have to go to school as Tammy." Blushing, I lowered my eyes in embarrassment. “Really dear, you should have been born a girl; wearing pretty dresses is only half the fun.” The gates of the school came into view. “You'd better let me do all the talking, dear. We wouldn't want you to give yourself away.” I don’t care if you hate me, Peter,” Jenny continues, putting away her phone. “If you don’t listen, I will send the signal to your uncle and in the blink of an eye—that bike will be dust.”What? Did something happen? She asked me. I came to my senses, and there were nothing. She was just cleaning my bums. You can cry when it’s done; she said. More or less, yes. I’d read a few books about behaviour among young boys, including two that advocated petticoat punishment. The idea was that if the boy misbehaved, he should spend some time dressed as a girl. If he behaved he could dress as a boy." You need to learn respect for your mother,” Jenny continues. “So, here’s the deal. You are to live with me for six months. You WILL do as you are told. Any disagreement will lead to punishment.” At last, with much difficulty, I learned how to do the curtsy. It was almost bedtime and aunt relieved me from the torture. When the cleaning was over, aunt took the red hot brand from the pit. I closed my eyes tighter, and waited for the upcoming torture. My whole body shivered, and heart beat fast. She came closer, and placed the red hot brand near me. Even with my eyes closed, I sensed it by the heat.

The Tiny twisting road I was driving down seemed to be taking me further and further away from civilisation, I hadn’t met any passing cars, or pedestrians for that matter for at least half an hour, finally I saw the sign I was looking for Gragewood Manor. I pulled up in front of two large gates, as soon as I stopped they began to part and I drove into a small courtyard. The front door was adorned with a large brass boss which made a deep sound into the interior of the building. A few moments later the door opened and I was greeted by a young lady who introduced herself as Macy.

News:

Luke came over and we talked for awhile and flirted with him flipping up our skirts accidentally and making sure he was getting turned on. Sue enjoyed flirting and I was enjoying it too. Poor Luke had to put up with our teasing for the next hour. Then again maybe he was enjoying it too. I was certainly enjoying being a girl. How was this possible?” I thought to myself. As I turned to see the reflection from another angle, it hit me. As the layers of taffeta swished about my nylon-covered legs, there was no mistake. This was no dreamlike image - this was I! I could have remained before the mirror for hours had the two women not awakened me from my reverie. Amazing," I said. "But you said it was a six-months’ trial. Surely if Tom has been behaving himself, you stop the punishment now." I couldn’t lie to her, the fear was all over me, and she looked so scary, thus, at last, I said the truth; I wasn’t aunt.