Dear Editor,

Some time ago you were kind enough to print a letter of mine under the heading 'Pageism in the Home', and as several readers have since asked for further news, I hope you will allow me to give this. At that time, my husband was left busily doing the housework in a little gingham frock and a pair of matching bloomers! He looked very cute, and secretly enjoyed every minute of it!

But, as I mentioned in my previous letter, once I realised just how much pleasure it gave him to be dominated and humiliated like this, I had no intention of letting matters rest there; and so, after letting him get accustomed to his frock and bloomers for a while, a few, not too startling, changes were made in his attire. The first of these was the addition of a pretty little starched white lace petticoat – very dainty and girlish – and it swished and flounced round his legs as he moved about, and was, of course, very much a symbol of ''Petticoat Domination'.

The next was a similarly starched and belaced little pinafore, just to remind him that he was the maid of all work around the place. And the final touch – one that really made him think – was a baby's dummy, which I pinned to the front of his pinnie! I didn't give him any instructions to use it; it was just left there dangling humiliatingly in front of him where it couldn't possibly be missed or overlooked; a delicious foretaste of what was to come.

His reactions to all this were just what they had been to the wearing of his frock and bloomers – intense embarrassment, a lot of face-saving protests, and, when I finally decided to release him from the imprisonment of his petticoats, even more wonderful bouts of love-making than ever before. So I felt that the time had come to introduce a new element of humiliation, and I decided to see just how he felt about someone else seeing him in his ridiculously childish get-up. Luckily, I have a very understanding girl friend of many years' standing who I felt would be the right person, especially as – just to add piquancy to the situation – I happened to know that my husband had always had a very soft spot for Marjorie! I said nothing to him beforehand, nor to her; I just arranged that she should call one evening and made certain that at the time she arrived, he was busy performing his chores in the kitchen. He was attired, of course, in his frock and bloomers, starchy petticoats and pinnie, and with his little dangling dummy-teat very, very obviously and humiliatingly in view! There is only one way out of the kitchen – into the hall – and Marjorie was already in before he had a chance to escape!

I don't know which of them was more shaken by the meeting! But I certainly know who recovered first – Marjorie! And what a tongue-lashing she gave him, and how the poor wretched man squirmed and wriggled. I then calmly informed her that this was my new method of dealing with my husband, and seeing that he made himself useful about the house.

The dummy especially seemed to fascinate her, and to my delight, and my husband's almost unbearable embarrassment and discomfiture, she unfastened it from the front of his pinnie, and popped it in his mouth! And then came the moment I had been hoping for. For, standing back surveying her scarlet-faced and shivering victim, she said that he really would make a lovely baby, and asked why I didn't put a nappy on him and have done with it! I had planned, of course, for a long time that I would put him in nappies. However the suggestion coming from Marjorie added a delicious little note of further humiliation which made it even more wonderful. So, just as though the whole idea was something new and one which I had never even thought about before, I solemnly promised that, if she came back in a few days' time, I would see that the 'child' would be duly put into nappies for her benefit!

Although I was thoroughly enjoying myself, I must admit that I couldn't help wondering what effect this intense humiliation at someone else's hands would have on my husband. But in bed, that night, it was very quickly and convincingly demonstrated to me that, for all the wriggling and squirming and quite pathetic little protests he had indulged in all evening, he had quite obviously loved every moment of it, and loved me all the more for subjecting him to it. And so a whole new avenue of humiliation was opened up for our mutual pleasure.

Yes, Marjorie did come again a few evenings later. And the 'child' was duly presented to her for inspection and approval in his nappies, with a new baby frock made especially for the occasion. We nursed him and gave him his bottle, and put him through a series of baby humiliations which left him too ashamed to make a squeak! Since then, not only Marjorie, but several other girl friends of mine, have witnessed and taken part in my husband's humiliation. They have been able to tease him and ridicule him sometimes to the point where even I would feel sorry for him, if I hadn't known that he was getting the thrill of a lifetime out of it all!

'Petticoat Domination' may sound a terrible cruel and heartless thing to those who don't understand, but believe me, for the right sort of married couple, petticoats and nappies, and constant humiliation, can be a perfect expression of loving.
Yours Truly,

Mrs J.H. (Bournemouth)