| I love the work of the professional artists. However, there are also many great Petticoat Punishment artists who do not make a living through their drawing. PRIM is one such. He drew as a hobby, and some of his drawings were published during the late 1970’s and early 1980’s. His work appeared in magazines produced by Swish Publications in Britain where he lived. However, most of his art was never in print, just traded with his friends including my good friend, Curtis, who has saved hundreds of PRIM's drawings. If you want to see them all, go to my downloads page for more information.
PRIM has recently done a few drawings for Prissy's Sissies.
'An Ex-male Chauvinist Pig' appeared in My Mistress #3, a SWISH Publication from the late 1970’s. Since it is said to be written by PRIM, and since I believe that it is an excellent example of high quality PP fiction, I have included a substantial portion of the text:
"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, Caroline; you're far, far too lenient with the little mongrel."
"Set your mind at rest, darling," went on Caroline. "I've just had the last straw, and I will be taking the steps you proposed."
"I take it that' s why you wanted these costumes, darling," answered Gloria. "Tell me, what has he done now?"
"Well, this is the limit ... Wait till you hear," went on Caroline, carefully pencilling her eyebrows. "I was talking to Samantha Brookesleigh at a Party luncheon on Wednesday, and she was telling me about a brave escapade of my chivalrous stepson that had been related to her by Anthea, her eldest. Apparently there was an interschool debate between Montgomery Grammar and St. Catherine's dealing with the equality of the sexes. And it transpires that that numbskull took it into his head to address the assembly at length on the superior qualities of the male! I ask you, Gloria. Imagine him extolling the would-be strengths of real men! Well, I saw red, and I went home with Samantha and enquired more closely into the affair; and would you believe it, I gathered from Anthea that the ignorant whelp had transformed the occasion into an attack on Womankind, making no end of uncomplimentary remarks about us in a stream of innuendoes. Several of the girls present had been quite embarrassed. Well, you know my temper Gloria, when I am annoyed by that imbecile, and I'm afraid I was quite abrupt with Samantha and her daughter. I stormed out to the car and I simply seethed all the way home ... Everything you had ever said to me about him came rushing into my head, and I saw that you had been right all the time".
"So have you started yet?" interrupted Gloria.
"Indeed, I started the same afternoon," continued Caroline, putting away her makeup and closing her bag. "I started him on regular thrashings the same evening, and by the next morning, Daphne had run off some suitable outfits for him. It's a pity the girls aren't here, but Walter has taken them with him to the Welsh coast for a few days, but they were thrilled with the new set-up before they left, and I just know they will be eager to get back home and play with him."
"Bully for you, darling," cried Gloria, giving her friend a tight hug and beaming her approval. "But where is the fool now? I haven't seen sight or sound of him since I arrived."
"He's in the garden in his swing, so that the neighbors can have a good look at him. I'd like you to come down and see him; that will make him crumble with shame, which can only do him a world of good, can't it!"
The two ladies had taken only a few steps down the path when they heard voices:
"Up and down, baby, that's right, up and down, Cissy, wheeee "
"Stoppit you silly bitch, ooooh . . . aaah ... oooh, stoppit at once, do you hear, oooooh!"
Caroline laughed to her friend. "It sounds like young Janice from next door ... She must be playing with the ass. Come on."
They tip-toed along the path to the end of the bushes and peered through the last branches, to see what was happening without letting their presence be known . . . and what a rewarding sight greeted them.
Sixteen-year-old Timette was firmly secured in a pretty baby-bouncer, dangling on a strong spring from the branch above him. He was supported under the crotch in a red satin bloomerbag, the straps of which were hooked onto the spring above his head. Between the straps fluttered a wide babyish blouse in shining cream silk, and from the puffs of silk at each shoulder, his bare arms descended to his hips where the cuffs of his tight white satin mittens were buttoned securely to his bloomerpants. His knees were bound fast with a wide length of white satin ribbon, which was fastened in a large bow at the front, and his ankles were 1 dressed together in a single white satin bootee. The wretched youth was wriggling his bare legs desperately in a vain attempt to free them from the grip of little four-year-old Janice, who was clutching him just below one knee and was bouncing the wailing, shrieking puppet the full height of the spring, her feet spread wide to get a firm grip, and her blond pony-tail switching wildly to and fro with her eager exertions.
Hidden from this scene of activity by the end of the bushes, Gloria was desperately covering her mouth with both gloves to suppress a burst of laughter, and Caroline was just as desperately stuffing her handkerchief further and further into her mouth. .
"You're a naughty naughty licke boysie," cried Janice, still clutching his knee with one hand while with the other she gave the back of his bare thigh a sharp smack each time he came to the bottom of a bounce with his toes just tipping the grass before he was swung up again, "If your mummy has to fasten you in your baby swing, I'm sure you must have done something very very bad, and you have to be smacked and smacked and smacked There's a smack, and there's another you bad bad baby!"
With each smack of her little hand or his bare flesh, the utterly defenseless Timette screeched a pathetic falsetto "Ouch". His brave retorts of a few moments before he gave way to fearful pleading as he whined and begged her to stop slapping him as it hurt so much Janice did give him a moment' respite.
"I see that you have spit out your dummy, I’ll fix that," Caroline said. His pink baby’s dummy was on elastic around his neck. She drew it over his head and took from her bag a more permanent ‘pacifier’. It was a large dummy with a broad white band of strong doubled satin some four inches deep. Standing in front of her miserable son, she placed the dummy in his mouth and tightly fastened the band behind his head.
"Would you like to put his frilled bonnet on, Gloria?" asked Caroline, dipping into her bag again.
Gloria passed the pink chiffon bonnet round the back of his head, drew the wings around his face, and tied the chiffon ribbons in a bow under his chin. They laughed to see him bouncing about, his hopeless eyes not so clearly visible now, deep inside the frills of his bonnet.
After standing a few moments longer to watch his helpless, silent gyrations, they left him to it and went back into the house.
Twenty minutes later they were sitting comfortably in the parlour, going over the details of Timette's future treatment. It wasn't yet decided how long it would be continued, but it would certainly last until the youth had come to acknowledge implicitly the complete superiority of the female, by which time of course he would have been deprived of all spirit of resistance and adolescent headstrong notions of disobedience towards his stepmother's orders. She couldn't foresee any change in his situation for at least twelve months, and Gloria felt that that was too optimistic, and that two years was a more realistic estimate. She wondered why Caroline intended stopping the treatment at all; she could see no reason why he shouldn't be kept in dresses and bloomers for good and then his constant respectful behaviour would be assured.
"But anyway, darling," cried Caroline, "this is all in the long term. Let me tell you what he will be doing in the new costumes you brought, because that is in the very near future . . . "Tomorrow evening, I shall be taking him round to Geraldine Toppingham's home . . . That's his girlfriend . . . and we shall see what her reaction will be to see him in his new regalia. That is what the satin party frock is for. And then, on Tuesday next, I have arranged with the headmistress of Saint Catherine's for him to be presented to the assembly of pupils so that he can make a proper public apology to the girls for his despicable behavior towards them in that debate. And that is where the school uniform comes in. Oh Gloria, imagine how he will squirm in front of four hundred odd girls laughing at him. I should think that that one experience will do him more good than a month of spankings."
"Yes, a good idea," agreed Gloria. Do you know, Caroline, I have only just realized that his uniform is in Saint Catherine's colours. I designed it, and supervised my girls making it, and it just never occurred to me - bottle green and cream - well I never!"
"It was silly of me not to say," replied Caroline. "And by the way, I shall be needing some gingham school frocks for him, because I hope to be able to arrange for him to give a series of talks to local schoolgirls on the inferiority of the male. I would like him to be in the appropriate uniform each time. Let me see now, he will be going to Belvedere Secondary, and Elizabeth Blane Grammar, and then to Saint Winefrecle's ... so he will need pink gingham, turquoise, and maroon gingham. I was thinking of a wide smocked dress to about nine inches above the knee with short puffed sleeves. If they can be fitted out with lacey petticoats, they will look unmistakably little-girlish, don't you think?"
Gloria was noting the details down in her order booklet. "What about a little gingham bolero top to go with each one," suggested Gloria looking up thoughtfully.
Caroline choked on a sip of claret. "Wonderful!" she giggled, setting down her glass and recovering her breath.
"And he should really be decked out in a school hat too," smiled Gloria. "Isn't it a panama that they wear at Elizabeth Blane?"
"Yes, I've thought of that," replied the other; "and I can buy them at an outfitters ... I think he should have his own rather than borrow them. It's a straw panama at Elizabeth Blane and a maroon felt one at Saint Winefrede's, but the girls at Belvedere don't wear a hat ... it's gone right down that place you know. . ."
"Mmm, let me see," pondered Gloria tapping her chin thoughtfully with her pen, "a matching gingham bonnet would do then, wouldn't it. Of course you know what you should be doing with his two new costumes that I brought today, dear," smiled Gloria. "You should acquaint him with their purpose, and then have him sit in misery and contemplate them; that would certainly help bring him to his senses."
Caroline mused at this for a few moments, looking straight at her friend with a mischievous smile at one side of her mouth and a glitter in her eye. Then she leapt to her feet.
"Let's do it at once!" she cried. "Let's take them down the garden to him now ... We can hang them on the clothes line right in front of his nose!"
Half a minute later they were slipping the soft new garments out of their box and arranging them on a couple of coathangers in the way they would be worn by the luckless Timette. His stepmother took a couple of pages of notepaper and wrote on them in large letters the purpose of each outfit; and carrying a set of clothes each, they set off excitedly down the garden to give him another wave of treatment.
They approached him very quietly, to see what he was doing, and were disappointed as they peered round the I bushes to see that he was hanging I quite limply and was actually dozing in his bloomer swing, his pink bonnet hanging forward on his chest. Caroline quietly hung the school uniform on the line and made sure it wouldn't twist and turn with clothes pegs, and Gloria did likewise with her party frock, keeping an eye on the unsuspecting youth not three yards away. The ominous notes were pinned in place: "TUESDAY - ST. CATHERINE'S" on the gym slip, and on the satin frock, "TOMORROW - TEA AT GERALDINE'S". Caroline and Gloria smiled radiantly at each other as they admired their handiwork and turned to survey the victim. His stepmother took him by the thighs and turned him round to face the opposite way.
"Wake up, Baby Bunting," she sang into his ear, and Timette jumped into a few startled little bounces. Holding him round his bottom with one arm, she fixed him with a cold stare into his bonnet and spoke with a firm sarcastic voice.
"Now then, young Timette, if there is one thing that I will not permit in a stepson of mine, it is that stupid notion characteristic of males that women and girls are in some way inferior; these male chauvinist ideas have to be relentlessly squeezed out of wrong headed little pigs, so you will be brought to recognize your own inferiority and to admit it time and time again in public. Is that clear?"
Timette made a distant squeak through his dummy and gag.
"You can nod, can't you!" demanded his stepmother, slapping his leg.
Timete nodded vigorously.
"Good!" Continued Caroline, "because your life is going to become a living example of these principles. Next Tuesday morning, I shall b e taking you along to Saint Catherine s Grammar School, by arrangement with the headmistress, and you will be apologizing to the whole school for the idiotic mistakes that led you to speak as you did in the debate. I shall be taking out your dummy for you to speak. But before that, it would be most appropriate for you to make a similar apology to Geraldine, and tomorrow afternoon, you will be going to Mrs. Toppingham's for tea, when you will confess to your girlfriend how your former pigheaded opinions have rendered you inferior to both males and females. Is that understood?"
The youth had to be smacked again before he nodded.
"Very well, my little piglet," said Caroline, "and now you will be left to contemplate your new costumes, and to have some very salutary thoughts about the situations you will find yourself in and so saying, she turned the shocked sixteen-year-old round to face the clothes line.
His eyes simply welled out the tears as the dreadful truth swept over him. Gloria was standing between the two costumes and was smiling scornfully at him as she spread the skirt of the white satin dress to show him how wide it was.
"It's a divine little frock for you, Timette," she beamed, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "It has such pretty puff-ball sleeves, and dainty pink lace round the collar, with tiny pink rosebuds all round the hem of the skirt ... won't that look nice and feminine when it is filled out with petticoats ... and look, Timette: the pink chiffon sash ties at the back in a nice big girlish 'bow . . ."
Then she turned to the Saint Catherine's uniform.
"And the girls at Saint Catherine's will simply adore you in this," she glowed. "A pretty blouse in cream silk, your green and cream tie, and your smartly pressed green gym slip ... My, you will be proud to wear that.
I only have found a few other published pieces. These are from early 1980 Madames, another Swish publication. The first is from Madame Vol 12 #1 and appears to be unrelated to any story.
The next drawing is also from a Swish publication, 'The World of TV', but I can not remember which one.
Gerald’s Mother accompanies him to the Saturday play-school to meet his other nicely dressed friends.
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