Sunday, 24 August 2014

Punished in Pink Pyjamas by Aunty and Mrs Jacobson





I was minding my own business working in the garden, and hanging out washing,when I overheard Aunty and Mrs Jacobson discussing my pyjamaring for the long, Bank Holiday weekend. Aunty  was proposing dressing me in a pair of floral winceyette pyjamas for Sunday bedtime but Mrs Jacobson wanted to put me to bed in the pyjamas she had dressed me in for my grening duties. I was outraged and strode over to them insisting that I was master of my own destiny and that I would choose my own pyjamas from now on as I was not their slave to be dressed and ordered about as they saw fit. Of course it was a mistake. Within seconds, I was put across both their laps in turn, for an imediate over the knee spanking.  I was then dressed in my floral pyjamas and placarded for my impudence and left in no doubt that I was indeed "owned" by aunty and Mrs Jacobson.


Friday, 15 August 2014

Here is a picture that illustrates a marvellous new story on moggs blog about a boys missed pyjama time and subsequent otk spanking. Don't miss it!

Richard, sitting beside Aunty Amelia wearing the pyjamas she dressed him in after his spanking. Aunty Amelia has just embarrassed  Richard once again by sitting him on her lap and giving him his, "goodnight cuddle". Richards looks nervously around at the roomful of ladies and wonders who else will decide a goodnight cuddle is appropriate.

Striped Punishment Pyjamas

Aunty made me wear another pair of the pyjamas Mrs Buckfast had bought round for me to wear. A green striped pair. Aunty says I have to wear them to Mrs Jacobson's barbeque tomorrow. I am not looking forward to that one bit.

Sunday, 10 August 2014

Babysitters for Luc And Jordan



 Julianne isn’t just my second wife, she’s also now the boss of my own company.
 I was the manager and I took her on as my assistant, I had fallen suddendly in love. I have to explain she  is very beautiful. At first she was distant. I tried to get her interested in me and once took it too far that  once she slapped me. She was very professional, sitting in my office, opposite me.
Then one morning she was sitting in my chair. For  a couple of weeks we effectively swapped roles before she sent me out in order to supervise the other office staff. Saying, "they need to be motivated and I am the creative one so you can supervise them."
So my office became her office and I was the one to  bring her coffee. I was so captivated by her charm and her presence I was reluctant to reassert myself as the manager. I was becoming addicted to Julianne… as I am to this day.
In the eyes of  the employees, she was the actual boss. I had been supplanted. Eventually, once she controlled the whole company entirely, she agreed to marry me and, at work, I effectively  became a mere member of staff.
After he left school, my son became a junior office assistant to my wife.  Julianne didn’t conceal  the fact that Jordan and myself were now strictly disciplined by her. We had become a laughing stock to the rest of the staff.
 I tried for a while to conceal the fact that Jordan and I now had a regular, compulsory early bedtime, but Julianne began to to have her mother collect us from the office at three thirty every afternoon
She would kiss us both on the cheeks as we walked through the secretary's office and say,"night-night little ones. Mother, make sure they are put straight into their pyjamas and are tucked up in bed by four thirty." To add to our humiliation, we had to say night-night to the girls in the office too.
They would giggle and laugh out loud as they sarcastically waved us "night-night"
One day, after lunch, my wife  asked me to assembled the  office girls. Jordan and I stood beside Julianne wondering what was going on. To our total embarrassment and shock, she asked who would volunteer to put me and Jordan to beddy-byes after work, and babysit us until about seven thirty, as her mother was unavailable. I blushed severely and could only stare at the floor while Jordan was as white as a sheet.
Katrina and Lillian, two of the secretaries, slowly put their hands up and offered to put us to bed. Julianne said we would all leave the office at three pm so that her mother  could show the girls what to do before she went out, " since she’s used to getting the boys ready for bed."
The rest of the afternoon was very embarrassing for my son and myself. The employees were sniggered and giggling. Looking especially at me,their former boss.
I was relieved when three pm arrived. As usual, Julianne kissed us nighty-night before we left. She threatened us with a harsh punishment if we were not obedient and she advised our new babysitters to be strict with us.
"A firm spanking across a pyjama clad bottom is a  good way to make them docile and quiet." She advised, as we trooped miserably out of the office.
 We left being mocked with  shouts of, "Nite-nite babies. Sweet dreams." 
And  Katrina and Lillian were even told, "Don’t forget to get the babies windy-woos up before sleepy-byes!"
We arrived home at five minutes past three.  Maryse was already dressed for going out. After the introductions, she sent us to undress in our children’s bedroom and to get ready for our bath. Lillian had to run a bath and to wash us. Katrina helped prepare our "supper" which consisted of jars of baby food and baby bottles of milk with honey.
Lillian and the bath were waiting for us. She soaped and washed us vigorously, then rinsed us. As we were getting out of the bath, she smacked our wet bottoms. It was supposed to be because we were not getting dry quickly enough, but I think it was just that she enjoyed hearing the wet slaps on our  bare buttocks.
She said as she scolded. "I  suppose, that  as  naughty little boys  you two are often spanked? "
She continued to slap my bottom as she spoke.
"Some…sometimes … ouch… but only when… ouch… when I have been … ouch… been  disobedient or … ouch… or when Julianne or her mother … ouch ……are angry with me… ouch … er…Lillian, please … ouch… please stop spanking me… ouch … it hurts … ouch…"
 My mother-in-law, hearing my squeals of pain, joined us  and laughing asked.
"Oh, what sort of mischief did my disobedient son-in-law do to earn a smacked botty?“
 I protested that I had done nothing wrong. and that I didn’t deserve to be punished. Maryse corrected me straight away.
 "You don't decide  whether your  punishment is deserved or not little boy. If your babysitter spanks you, you don't have to be told why you are being spanked. She has the right to punish you in any way she sees fit."
Blushing, my face faced the floor as I replied. "Ye…yes,  mummy-in law you…you’re right…er… I’m very sorry."
However my apology wasn't good enough for Maryse.
" You have also to apologize to your babysitter little boy, and to show respect call her Miss Lillian"
 I mumbled, "Oh yes, of course… er … sorry Miss Lillian."
 Lillian smiled as she slapped my buttocks, two more times.  She turned to my mother-in-law and said.
 "You know, I think this naughty little boy should wear a lovely long pink nightie to beddy-byes, just to prove that he has no control over what he wears to beddy-byes any longer." My mother-in-law grinned. "Of course, an excellent idea. I have just such a one here.
Even though the weather was very warm, Lillian dressed me in a long, brushed cotton, floral, pink nightie that buttoned at the back of the neck. There was frilly lace sewn around the neckline and it tickled my throat.
"Please Miss Lillian, could you unfasten the buttons so my nightie doesn’t irritate my neck?"
She looked at me with distain and slapped my cheek. "How dare you ask such a thing. of course your nightie must remain fully buttoned, how else are you to be warm and cosy in beddy-byes."
I risked another slap. "But Miss Lillian, it is very warm I really don't think…"
Slap! "How dare you answer me back, you will be punished for your disobedience."
 I fell silent and wore my  warm, long pink nightie with a heavy heart and watched as Katrina attended to Jordan's night attire. he looked close to tears as Katrina picked out a pair of girls, white, brushed nylon pyjamas for him to wear. They too would be very warm to wear in bed on such a warm day.
Katrina buttoned up the pyjama top. It had a mandarin type collar and a bow fastening at the neck. She took great care in ensuring the bow was tied neatly and that the ruffles on the sleeve cuffs were neatly positioned on his wrists. "Don't you look pretty," She teased as she stepped him into the pyjama bottoms.
Then to add to our humiliation my mother-in-law appeared with two  white  frilly nightcaps which the girls placed delightedly on our heads.
Maryse told us how sweet we both looked, all ready for beddy-byes in our female nightclothes and it was such a shame that she had to leave now.
So now Jordan and I were left in the hands of our babysitters, Miss Lillian and Miss Katrina as we had to call them. It was only recently when they both had to address me as Sir.
Katrina and Lillian were discussing together and looking in various drawer's in the kitchen until Lillian exclaimed, "yes! here they are."
We were led out onto the patio  and sat down at the table on the terrace which was overlooked by two of our neighbours' houses. Jordan and I became quite nervous sitting there,  warm in our cosy nightwear and night bonnets.
 "Right you two, this is what is going to happen." Lillian began forcefully. As she spoke, Katrina came  up behind Jordan and me and fastened two, white towelling baby bibs around our necks. I began to protest. "Now just a minute we…."
Lillian held up her hand, "silence! You will do as you are told. We will feed you your jars of baby food and your baby bottles of milk like the infants you are. Then you will head off straight to beddy-byes without a murmur. If you’re tucked cosily under your blankets early enough, Katrina will read you a bedtime story, but sleepy-byes and lights out by four thirty at the latest. Understood?
I ventured to speak. "Please Miss Lillian and Miss Katrina, we will both do as you say, but perhaps it’s not correct to sit on the terrace with…er… with only nighties  and pyjamas on…. and girls' ones at that."
Lillian looked angry. “What have I just said? Now be quiet and obey unless you want to go across my lap out here? We are aware that your neighbours know you have a regular babyish bedtime. Maryse told us they have seen you both before in pyjamas and nighties. One of them even spanked you across your jimjams, you surely can’t have forgotten that?"  She asked sneeringly.
I muttered, blushing. “Yes, you’re right…I…I’m stupid…fancy forgetting, we will just sit here on the terrace."
Lillian and Katrina sat down and spoon fed us our jars of baby food. Then they gave us our baby bottles of milk to drink ourselves whilst hey ate their own meals. to eat with us. They had tea with cake and ice-cream instead of jars of vegetables and apple puree.
Our two babysitters had fun seeing us sitting down with only our nightclothes on and the bibs they had tied round our necks, eating baby food and sucking on baby bottles.
They teased us as hey ate. Lillian said, "Oh  you look so pretty ready for nighty-night in your long cosy nightie Sir."
 Katrina added ,but baby Jordan's pretty pair of pyjamas suit him too. Perhaps these little boys should wear their nightclothes to the office so all the girls can see how sweet and babyish they look dressed ready foe beddy-byes."
Lillian laughed excitedly and clapped her hands.
"I agree… and I feel that seeing our former boss ready for bed in the afternoon, wearing a female nightie with a bib on eating jars of baby food and to drinking milk from baby bottles, is very amusing show."
Katrina too laughed, "and don’t forget their nightcaps!"
We were almost finished our baby bottles when to my dismay I heard our neighbour Ingrid shouting to us across the fence.
"Hello!... Oh, I see you have to go to beddies even earlier then usual. Are you being punished again? What kind of mischief have you been up to?"
Although Lillian and Katrina did not know our neighbours, they knew how to embarrass me.
"Go along, explain to the nice lady what you are doing out here wearing your lovely nightie." Katrina urged me.
"Mrs Tartare, hello… er…yes, we … we have to go to bed now but not really as a punishment. My mother-in-law can’t put us to bed this evening …er… this afternoon, so my wife asked two of our secretaries to baby-sit for us and put us to beddy-byes." I blushed horribly as I stuttered my way through the explanation.
"Ah, your secretaries are also your babysitters, are they?" Katrina and Lillian introduced themselves to Ingrid and told her they had to tuck us into beddies straight away and read us a  bed time story before sleepy-byes.
Ingrid said she appreciated we had a strict bedtime, but she had heavy shopping in her car and she wondered if  Jordan or I could help carry it indoors for her.
Lillian said that I could not help as I was about to be punished for answering back earlier, but they would allow Jordan to help her if he was quick.
Jordan began to tear up, saying how could he go onto the street wearing girls pyjamas and a night cap.  Ingrid laughed. "Don’t be silly, it isn’t unusual to be in pyjamas when ready for beddy-byes, is it?"
When he came back minutes later, he walked clumsily on a pair of pink mules with high heels. Ingrid held his hand and he was holding and licking a lollipop with the other.
"Ladies here is one of your baby boys safely returned. I rewarded him with this lollipop for his help... Oh, and I lent these mules to him since the poor boy was barefoot…Now, you can put him and his daddy to beddy-byes… er… Didn‘t you  say Luc was to be punished before tucking him in? I would  like to volunteer to spank him. after all I have done it before." 
Lillian said that it was a great idea and Ingrid could certainly spank me. Then Katrina  told her that I had cried like a baby when Lillian had spanked me at bath time.
Ingrid laughed at me. "Oooh, my poor, poor baby…  I will remind you what a real spanking is like shall I?"
I was afraid now, as I remembered how much her previous spanking hurt. She suddenly grabbed me, and positioned me over the table and raised my nightgown. A hail of vigorous slaps on my naked buttocks cascaded down.
"Ouch ! Ouch ! Ouch ! That’s … ouch… unfair ! Ouch! Ouch!"
 I couldn’t help moaning, crying and pleading with Ingrid to stop spanking me so severely.
 "Shut up! I’m only showing you and your babysitters what a real spanking for a little baby boy like you is like!"
She finally stopped, saying, "corner time, now! "
Still in tears I sobbed. "But…sob… but …  the…sob…there…sob…out…outdoor…sob…on the terrace… ?"
She grabbed me once more and slapped my face. "Kneel and face the wall at once. Put your hands on top of your nightcap!"
Katrina stepped forward and said. "Well done Mrs Tartare, we now know how to administer severe spanking. Here babykins have this to soothe you, ha-ha!"
Katrina shoved a pink baby's dummy in my mouth. "Don't you dare take that out or else it's over my knee with you."
 Of course, I obeyed immediately, sucking on my dummy  but sobbing bitterly. My son, still licking his lollipop, suggested  he should get into bed without delay. Lillian told him, "only after you've been punished too!"
Turning talk into action, she put him across her knee and smacked his bottom through his pyjamas before making him kneel,  hands on his head and in tears besides me also with a dummy in his mouth.
Corner time lasted  10 minutes before we were allowed to go to bed. Katrina sent us off to the bathroom. My bottom was still hurting so I walked with difficulty, my hands placed on my buttocks trying to ease the burning. The three women laughed  at me and actually I was by now relieved to be finally  going to bed, even though I was wearing a long pink nightie, had a bib tied around my neck and was sucking on a baby's dummy in the middle of the afternoon.
Jordan slipped under the sheets and blankets first, as Lillian tucked them tightly around him.
I lay down flat on my stomach  while Ingrid  lifted my nightie and spread soothing cream on my bottom, while Katrina began reading us the story of the three little pigs.
 After about five minutes, Ingrid stopped administering my soothing cream,  pulled my nightie down and ordered me to snuggle under my blankets.
The three females kissed us nite-nite before leaving the bedroom, switching the light off and locking us in. It was half past four.

 Jordan's pyjamas
Luc's nightie

Friday, 8 August 2014

Wearing Cynthia Buckfasts floral pyjamas in the garden








You may remember that Mrs Buckfast had given aunty a selection of her daughters old nightwear last week, that she said would "do for me". Aunty and Mrs Jacobson decided I should wear this particular pair of pyjamas yesterday evening, to show my gratitude, as Mrs Buckfast was joining them for an afternoon sherry. Of course I was the one designated to serve the sherry. Aunty buttoned up the top button on my pyjamas and told me how smart I looked. Grumpily I replied that I felt ridiculous and anyway, the pyjamas didn't fit. Aunty leant across and smacked my bottom  twice very hard for being an, "ungrateful little boy". When Mrs Buckfast appeared I was still sobbing and to make matters worse, Cynthia Buckfast was with her as well. She is a school mistress at a boarding school up north, and was visiting her mother during the holidays.  "Well, well," she said as she saw me." I haven't seen those jimjams of mine for a long time, they certainly suit you. Come here and let me see better." Nervously I edged toward her and as  I drew close she reached out and grabbed my arm. In a flash I was over her knee and receiving a spanking on my pyjama bottoms. "This is how I punish the boys at school, she bragged to her mother, aunty and Mrs Jacobson. "See how his little legs are beginning to thrash around as the spanking intensifies."
Soon I was howling and begging her to stop, "I must say the ten year olds in my dormitory don't squeal so much when I give them a pyjama spanking. Perhaps he needs an early bedtime to calm him down." Aunty readily agreed and I was led tearfully to bed by Mrs Jacobson at 4pm.

Mrs Buckfast gave aunty a selection of her daughters old nightwear last week, that she said would "do for me". Aunty and Mrs Jacobson decided I should wear this particular pair of pyjamas yesterday evening as Mrs Buckfast was joining them for an afternoon sherry. Of course I was the one designated to serve the sherry. Aunty buttoned up the top button on my pyjamas and told me how smart I looked. Grumpily I replied that I felt ridiculous and anyway the pyjamas didn't fit. Aunty leant across and smacked my bottom  twice very hard for being an, "ungrateful little boy". When Mrs Buckfast appeared I was still sobbing and to make matters worse, Cynthia Buckfast was with her as well. She is a school mistress at a boarding school up north, and was visiting her mother during the holidays.  "Well, well," she said as she saw me."I haven't seen those jimjams of mine for a long time, they certainly suit you. Come here and let me see better." Nervously I edged toward her and as  Idrew close she reached out and grabbed my arm. In a flash I was over her knee and receiving a spanking on my pyjama bottoms. "This is how I punish the boys at school, she bragged to her mother, aunty and Mrs Jacobson. "See how his little legs are beginning to thrash around as the spanking intensifies."
Soon I was howling and begging her to stop, "I must say the ten year olds in my dormitory don't squeal so much when i give them a pyjama spanking. Perhaps he needs an early bedtime to calm him down." Aunty readily agreed and I was led tearfully to bed by Mrs Jacobson at 4pm.

Wednesday, 6 August 2014

New striped pyjamas and an encounter with Mrs Buckfast.

When Mrs Buckfast joined Mrs Jacobson and aunty on the patio for tea I was ordered to give up my chair. "You can sit on the grass like the little boy you are," laughed aunty.

 "And say thank you to Mrs Buckfast for your lovely new pyjamas. You needed a new stripey pair didnt you?" I mumbled a curt thank you that I just about got away with. "Now give her a big kiss."
I was forced to kiss her proffered cheek before finding myself seated at the feet of three very intimidating women wearing my winceyette, striped pyjamas. Could the afternoon get any worse?

Step-mummy disciplines her new son. By Lance Miller


 



My Mummy the Therapist.

Hi, I'm David, I am 23 years old now but when I was 15 my father met and started dating the psychologist from my school. Sadly my Mum had suddenly passed away and the school rules dictated I had to endure counselling sessions. These didn’t go so well and my father was called, apparently I had an attitude toward women in authority. As far as I was concerned she was a complete psycho bitch!
Her name is Kath. She’s now 43, and like most of the cows at my old school she was used to getting everything her own way...
Anyway much to my shock, she and my father hit it off and got married. From the Moment she moved in she started throwing her weight around. My father was smitten with her and believed every word she said. Nothing I did was ever good enough and as far as the bitch was concerned, my father needed to teach me a lesson before I went completely off the rails. She would constantly blow everything out of proportion in her effort to get my father to take action and deal with me. She knew long before she moved in, my father was never the disciplinarian in our home. These domestic matters where always my mother’s responsibility and his preference to avoid such things hadn’t changed one little bit.
It all came to a head one Saturday afternoon when Kath blow her top over my general lack of respect and she insisted something needed to be done. Once again my father attempted to avoid the issues but she would not hear of it. She called me in to the lounge where my father was sitting and told him, if he wasn’t going to punish me, she would. I could see my father becoming increasingly agitated and eventually he said, well perhaps you should, you are his mother after all and that does come with some responsibilities’.
 Right then said Kath as she took a slipper from her foot and clasped a hold of my forearm. You young man need to be taught a lesson.
She swatted my jean clad bottom several times but stopped only because my father got up and mumbled something about the club. Moments later the front door closed and we where alone.
Just to be sure he was completely out of ear shot she yelled out loudly, you naughty boy and swatted my bottom several more times. 
I think were finally alone said Kath with a beaming smile, I told you I’d get your fathers approval.
Finally I gasped; I still don’t understand why that was so important to you.
Look sweetheart, I know you’ve been very frustrated having to wait this long but it will be worth it in the long run, you’ll see.
I sure hope so. 
It will be darling. Just think, now that I’ve got the green light, it won’t be long before putting you to bed with a smacked bottom will seem quite a normal event.
Your fathers not going to be home for a couple of hours so let’s make the most of it shall we?
Should I put my pyjama’s on?
Absolutely my dear: I promised you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?
You said you’d give me lots of smack bottoms and early bedtimes, if you were my mother?
Yes my darling, it’s got to be the strangest reason to marry a man there ever was, but it all went to plan just as I promised. Finally you’re now both legally and morally my responsibility and now I can do with you as I please.
That slipper is a bit lame, I can’t even feel it. I hope you haven’t forgotten about the strap or putting me to bed in nappies.
Oh my sweet boy she said as put her foot back into her slipper. Have a look in your bottom draw, now off you go and get your pyjamas on. I’ve wanted to see you in your pyjamas stood facing the corner ever since you fist told me your little secret and we both know your long overdue, so let’s have some fun shell we.
I eagerly opened my bottom draw to see several pairs of neatly folded little boy pyjamas, a pile of adult sized disposable nappies, baby powder and she’d even found my Mums old belt. I gasped and my bottom began to tingle with excitement. 

Hastily, I put on my brand new, Cowboys and Indians little boy pyjamas. Standing silently with my face in the corner, I waited with a new found sense of pride. My new Mummy hadn’t forgotten a thing.
 
Lance Miller.