As a keen petticoat disciplinarian, and a firm believer in the wife's right to rule both inside and outside the home, I am pleased to see so many letters on this subject in your delightful magazine.

My husband knew my views before we married, and was prepared to accept Petticoat Government, although I don't think even he realized at the time the lengths I was prepared to go to in order to establish my complete superiority. He was aware that he would have to wear petticoats, but I am sure he did not bargain for the many other humiliations that are now his daily lot.

He probably expected that he would sometimes be required to help with the housework, in an ill fitting maid's uniform, or something of that nature, and it must have been a considerable shock to him when he was presented with his new outfit - a short baby type silk frock, and frilly lace petticoats, and nappies!

Everything about it was deliberately designed to humiliate him and make him feel ridiculous. The frock had dainty little puff sleeves, edged with lace, and a big frilly collar. It had a high tight bodice, the way babies' frocks are always made, and the very full skirt jut reached down to under his bottom when he was standing up. His petticoats were of white cotton with lace trimmings at the neck, armholes, and the hem embellished with flouncy lace frills with blue baby ribbon threaded through and tied at intervals in cute ribbon bows.

Determined to get the maximum baby effect, I had even knitted him some woollen bootees and mittens, and by the time I had set him dolled up in all this lot, with his frilly petticoats bouncing round his bottom every time he moved, and a great thick bulky nappy between his legs, he really did look something!

To finish it off, I stuck a dummy in his mouth, and tied a little satin bit round his neck. For a whole weekend I had baby crawling around the floor, just about ready to die of shame, and so humiliated that he didn't even dare to talk, dummy or not. I called a neighbour in to look at him, and she patted his head and said he was a lovely baby, which made him squirm. She asked to nurse him, so I let her take him on the sofa and she kissed and cuddled him for a bit, then she gave him his bottle.

He wriggles about so much at being handled like this that his petticoats were nearly round his neck, but when he tried to pull them down she stopped him, and he just had to lie there looking the picture of misery and shame, with his nappies showing, and sucking away at his silly baby bottle until he had drunk every drop.

Since then lots of other ladies have seen him like this, and they love it! He wears his nappies and all his pretty baby clothes most evenings, and always at weekends. He sobs for shame, and begs not to be dressed up any more, but I don't listen, as it is a wonderful thrill for me, and it does him no harm to have other ladies know that I am the boss.

This is what Petticoat Government is all about, and although I know that it's humiliating in the extreme for him, and he hates being babied like this, he has only himself to blame, for being weak enough to let me rule him in this way. I often tell him so, and he says I'm cruel, but all the same, he knows he can't get out of nappies now, so he'll continue to be my baby and make the best of it.
It's humiliating for him, but he doesn't have a hard life otherwise: plenty of spoiling and petting when he behaves himself; and looked after and cared for all the time - as babies have to be.
Truly yours,

M.B
Bournemouth