Dear Celia,
I am in the fortunate position of being able to serve my local DBS Circle by dragging along my pathetic 30-year-old husband to our meetings and displaying him in his lovely little-girl dresses. He is always the cente of the Ladies' attention, and of course he hates it.
Of course his dresses will only frill out nicely all round him if he wares several flounced and frilly petticoats, so he has to have at least six pretty silk or nylon petticoats with lace around the bottom for effect, and he has to wear suitably frilly panties underneath.
When he is dressed in a pink dress I usually put him in white or cream panties, and with a yellow dress he has to wear pink or pale blue panties. Most of his dresses button down the back and have a satin waist sash which does into a lovely big bow behind.
One of his least favourite dresses ( i.e. most humiliating )is a lovely little girl frock my mother made for him in peach silk-taffeta, with large puffed sleeves and a wide matching collar in cream satin, frilled with cream lace all round the edge. Naturally, at the DBS, he is often laid across a lady's skirt to have his dress and petticoats turned up at the front and his panties inspected. Since this always shows his little male member pressing up stiffly into the delicate panty silk, it is followed inevitably by a quick turn on her lap so that he can be spanked for wilful, disgusting panty abuse.
You may find it old-fashioned, but I firmly believe that it is important for effeminate husbands to look their best when attending formal functions where ladies will be present.
Your dutiful servant,
Angela Beltware.

Celia replies:
I do not think you are old-fashioned at all Angela, and I am sure the Ladies of your local branch of the DBS wouldn't either. It must be very reassuring to them to see your husband affording them the respect involved in wearing his pretty dresses and petticoats to attend their meetings... as long, that is, as he continues to have his petticoats and panties regularly inspected by the Members, of course.

Dear Celia,
It really annoys me to see petticoated Pansies taken out in public wearing nothing more embarrassing than what is evidently just their Mistress's clothes, when there are countless easy ways of making their lives far more miserable with just one or two truly shaming details and devices.
Let me give you an example. The other day I happened to be shopping for a friend in "Buttons & Baby Bows" when I saw two matronly ladies at the counter, each purchasing garments for their effeminate boys, who must have been in their late teens.
One of these youths was wearing what must have been his mother's summer print dress in white cotton covered with large roses and leaves, with a nicely feminine wide collar and pointed revers, short, cuffed sleeves and patch pockets. He wore a wide-brimmed sun hat, white cotton gloves and white high heels with a matching handbag.

Very nice, you might think. But not when you compared him with the vision beside him. That gormless wretch was looking a lot less pleased with himself, and in fact he was in floods of tears. This was partly because of his girlie costume, and partly because of the effect it created on the Ladies who were gathered around him.
His mother had him in an exquisite blouse of white silk, fully flared and reaching his hips where the lace of several little blouse petticoats could be seen. It had short but well puffed sleeves cuffed in frills of lace, helping to support a big, big collar that formed an embarrassing full circle round his neck.
His collar was edged with lacey frills too, and carried a circle of pretty white blouse buttons right round the middle. Beneath his blouse, a pair of translucent bloomers in pale pink, very sheer, silk georgette failed completely to conceal his ridiculously small erected organ which was dressed in its own little white silk penis-dress with a white satin bow at the front.
The Fool wore white ankle socks and four inch heeled, white patent button-strap shoes and white glaced gloves to halfway up his forearms... and a large, strawberry pink beret worn on the back of his head with a white satin bow on top and streamers dangling to below his bottom.
His mother held his hand the whole time and insisted that his other hand held the hem of his blouse at the side as if spreading his skirt.
The contrast between the two ex-males was complete, as was proved by the interest our little bloused Sissy created in the store.
Every lady who saw him became flushed with pleasure and several of them could not resist fussing his big, baby-girl collar and planting excited kisses on his wet, girlish cheeks.
I write to you simply to remind your dear readers of the difference between merely dressing their ex-males and really humiliating them. I for one am all for the latter.
Yours in full control,
Gwen Fullness.

Celia replies:

My Dear Gwen, I for one am wholeheartedly with you Gwen. I too feel disappointed at DBS functions where the Driplets have been dressed in very ordinary ladieswear; whereas when there is evidence that an effort has been made to horrify and shame the little Fools, I invariably feel elated and my enjoymant is doubled. I have heard it called 'the Squirming Worm factor'. So come on, Ladies... Let's make those Worms squirm, every time !

Dear Aunt Celia,
Pleas help me! I am appealing to you because I am in a terrible situation and I feel that you might be in a position to get me released from my daily trials and tribulations.
I am 18 years old, and my Step-mother is determined that I will not leave home, and that I will spend my whole time, day and night, week in and week out, dressed in her blouses and lingerie. My Step-mother is a large woman, and in her fifties, so you would not believe the fuddy-duddy ladieswear I am dressed in when her friends come to the house. I have to wear large blouses in striped silk or nylon, with full sleeves and long buttoning cuffs or cuffs that turn right back and are buttoned underneath.
Then there are the big collars that she likes, some of them as wide as my shoulders!. And there are satin blouses too, with lace decorating the bodice or with frills and jabots of satin or lace. And the sort of underwear she wears are almost all the old-fashioned directoire bloomers which reach to below my knees, in milanese satin or celanese silk, or in silky nylon, with lace panels at the legs or lace trimming at the elastics.
Sometimes, of course, she puts me in a pair of her French knickers, which are much shorter. But one of the awful things about my Aunt's terrible treatment of me is that she insists sometimes in dressing me in more than one blouse at the same time, and she says that therefore I have to wear the same number of pairs of her panties or I would look unbalanced.
At the moment, for example, she has dressed me in an ivory satin blouse and an oversized silk blouse in cerise and white stripes over it, with the wide satin collar spreading over the rounded pink and white collar all round my shoulders.
I am wearing a pair of directoire knickers in beige silk, and over them I have a pair of white satin directoires to below my knees. And I know I have been got ready for the arrival of some lady visitors for the afternoon.
I am sure that you will sympathise with me and agree that my Step-mother is being totally unreasonable in her treatment of me; in fact she is being cruel!
Yours faithfully,
Cuthbert Faintwill.

Aunt Celia replies:
Listen to me boy. You are under the direction and therefore the control of your very wise and understanding Step-mother, and if she wants to dress you in her blouses and bloomers there is nothing that you nor I nor anyone can do about it.
My advice to you is to accept your lot in a more positive way. Thank your 'mummy' when she has finished fastening your blouse buttons, and compliment her on her choice of panties for you. Ask her to dress you in a third blouse and another pair of bloomers. Curtsey sweetly to the lady visitors and ask them if they like your pretty, frilly things. Ask them if they have ever seen a worthless male looking so pretty and feminine.
Find any way you can to show your Step-mother your meekness and total acceptance of her wishes to make you a sexless pantyboy. Because personally I can't stand a snivelling creep!

Dear Celia,
As Chair of the Eastbourne DBS I am delighted to write to your column for the edification of your readers on one of our recent successes. It concerns the intensive creation of a buttoning fetish in the husband of one of our Members.
At first she simply had the idiot dressed in her own garments in the normal way, but discovered by chance that he responded particularly well - sometimes ejaculating helplessly- when being dressed in blouses that were double buttoned, that is with two rows of buttons.
She bought herself some more of these, of course, and by advertising in your magazine was able to gather dozens more. The Clown has a special blouse wardrobe in his Mistress's dressing room, packed with two tiers of double-buttoning blouses which at the last count numbered 102.
When she wanted to introduce more babyish clothing for her Big Baby, it was an obvious step to button his bloomers and rompers to the hem of his blouses, and to put him in baby dresses that fastened down the back with two rows of little buttons instead of one.
Our evening soirees were sheer heaven at the time as the Ladies vied with each other for turns to button up Baby in his back-buttoning dresses, because this meant you had the big Fool spread on his tummy across your lap in his petticoats with his hands held and his feet held by the ladies sitting on either side of you.
He is still dressed in his nice baby things from time to time, but his Mistress has moved on now to putting him into some quite deliciously humiliating blouses with large silk-lined collars which when raised button up to enclose his face. The full sleeves close over his hands with fully buttoning cuffs for added helplessness.
How he cries and cries, like the infant he is, for he has been medically treated to feel demeaned and helpless whenever he has his buttons fastened up by Ladies. Their mockery and contempt reduces him to a blubbering, begging wreck which is a joy to see.
This has led to other quite delightful refinements: he has pairs of baby bloomers that fasten shut with 'multi-button panels' at the front, requiring ten minutes of gentle feminine buttoning by the Ladies before he is ready for his 'walkies' in the garden -- and of course ten minutes of unbuttoning by the Ladies before he can be pottied- if he is not in his diaper.
Then he has button-bonnets, where the hood is lined with rows of pretty buttons, and which of course can be buttoned shut for the Baby to feel more 'private' with his baby-buttons.
And then there are the full-length buttoning baby-dressbags, where he is buttoned from the neck to the feet and buttoned shut across the bottom too. He does look sweet and helpless when his pink satin dressbag has been fastened up the middle with two rows of big, pearly white dress buttons. His blouse collar is buttoned up to his eyes, his bonnet is closed up for him so that his little face disappears, and the collar of his dress is then fastened up to the top as well.
He sure gets a good laugh, especially as he has the front of his dress opened and his baby panties revealed so that several pairs of Ladies' hands can avail themselves of his very stiff little baby peeny and make it ejaculate nicely.
Yours in tucks,
Deirdre Frothscombe.

Celia replies:
Dear Deirdre,
How lucky we are when we discover a special little weakness that these effeminate pansies have. I can imagine the pain and shame that this stupid milksop is suffering every time his Mistress subjects him to the amusement of her DBS friends.
I can assure you that if I were present on such an occasion I would enjoy fastening him into some buttoning bloomers and buttoning up the back of one of his dresses as he lay across my knee.