Thursday, 27 September 2012

Pyjama Time from Pyjama Punishment Monthly


Dear Pyjama Punishment Monthly

I would like to express my admiration for your magazine; it certainly shows what can be achieved when determined women put their mind to it. One thing puzzles me however: where do people acquire these magnificent dresses and baby outfits, which they seem to own in abundance? I have developed a much less elaborate, and cheaper way of disciplining my young lodger, whilst still reducing him to a babyish state that humiliates him into total obedience.

When Timothy first came to stay with me he was untidy, rude and undisciplined. I warned him several times of the consequences if he did not mend his ways, but he continued to misbehave. Eventually my patience snapped when he refused to do his college work in order to watch football on television. I switched off the set, hauled him over my lap and soundly spanked his bottom. Timothy was a small, immature boy, and physically he was no match for me. He begged me to stop spanking him, but I was determined to end his slovenly behaviour.
I stripped off his clothes, explaining that naughty boys aren’t allowed to dress and undress themselves. Then I dressed him in a pair of delightfully childish pyjamas, yellow winceyette, with a nursery print motif, which I had sewn for myself to wear at a fancy dress party. How Timothy cried as I buttoned up the jacket, and tucked it into the waistband of the trousers! They were too large for him, but I told him he would have to grow into them like other little boys.
The change in Timmytums, (his baby name), was almost immediate, wearing his babyish pyjamas he tidies his room, helps clear up after supper, and is generally a much better behaved little boy, concentrating more on his studies than football.
 I get Timmytums ready for bed at 4.00 every evening without fail. Luckily, pyjamas are a simple pattern to sew, and I have made him quite a selection of pyjamas, all in winceyette and extremely infantile in appearance. Friends come around for whist on Saturdays and I make sure Timmytums is ready for beddy-byes dressed in his pyjamas before they arrive at 3pm. They love to watch as I make him serve us tea wearing his babyish pyjamas.  He gets lots of hugs and cuddles but sometimes forgets his manners and he has to go over my knee for a spanking. I then pop a babies dummy into his mouth to soothe him and have one of my friends, usually Miss Fanshawe, nurse him on her lap while he quietly sucks his dummy.

At 5 o'clock he must give everyone a goodnight kiss and I take him to bed. I tuck him in under his Thomas the Tank Engine duvet, and tell him what a good little boy he is.
I would recommend the use of babyish pyjamas to anyone who wishes to discipline males cheaply and effectively, as long as they follow these general guidelines.
* Always ensure baby's jim-jams are suitably childish or feminine, and slightly too large. Sometimes I put Timmytums into a pink floral pair of pyjamas if he is especially naughty.
* Spankings should be rare, and performed in front of guests for maximum humiliation. A few slaps on a pyjama-clad bottom will suffice.
* Choose a time for the putting on of pyjamas and stay true to it, and the same rule for bedtime. I once wiped the smile from Timmytums face by pulling a pair of Peter Rabbit winceyette pyjamas from my bag for him to wear when I lingered too long at a neighbour's house.
* Finally, always make sure chores and duties around the house are completed by him whilst wearing pyjamas, to emphasise your superior female position.
Regards,
Miss Helen Good.
My congratulations on your success with Timmytums; your letter is one of the most delightful and instructive that I have ever read about the successful application of petticoating techniques. Might I suggest a pretty be-flounced pinafore for Timmy whilst he is doing his housework? I am sure that you have the skills to make one.
I have often pointed out that petticoat discipline need not be expensive, and I think that your technique is brilliant. Mothers and wives should follow your advice to the letter: make the material soft and cuddly (winceyette is excellent), the colours and patterns feminine and childish, and the pyjamas too large, which definitely adds a babyish touch.
Housework should be done in pyjamas, perhaps protected by a pinafore, and perhaps your little man could wear a pair of bunny rabbit slippers too, although they would have to be especially made.
Susan

Monday, 24 September 2012

Nanny Spankwell insists on Pink Pyjamas being worn at all times.


Pink pyjamas, a  pink apron, pink rubber gloves and a pink shower cap. A wonderful outfit to wear in the presence of Nanny Spankwell as she prepares to spank this sissy then put him to bed good and early.

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Aunty punishes naughty boys who are impertinent when being bought new pyjamas.





 On the naughty chair.



 Being put to bed early.


Aunty had insisted I accompany her shopping on Saturday morning and reluctantly I had went with her as aunty had promised me a milkshake in the cafe if I behaved myself. I was already laden with auntys purchases when I was steered down the narrow lane that led to Miss Fairchilds just off the High Street. I began to protest but Aunty was quick to silence me with one of her stares.

The bell on the door gave its familar tinkle as we entered and Miss Fairchild greeted Aunty as a regular customer. "What can I do for you and your delightful nephew this morning?" She asked," patting me condescendingly on the cheek. a new pair of pyjamas for your nephew perhaps?" 

Aunty nodded her agreement and I was told to stand quietly whilst an assortment of pyjamas were scattered on the glass counter. Miss Fairchild held some pyjama bottoms up against my waist that were decorated with characters from the nursery rhymes of my youth. "How about these?" she enquired of Aunty.

"Tempting indeed Miss Fairchild, I admit," aunty said and my stomach lurched at the thought of wearing those  infantile pyjamas, so it was with some relief that aunty told Miss Fairchild that todayshe was looking for a pair of big boys pyjama for me to wear. 

Miss Fairchild smiled, "of course, I have a large selection for you to choose from," she replied, looking directly at me. After perusing for a while aunty eventually decided on a pair of, "big boys", blue striped winceyette pyjamas.

"An excellent choice," chirped Miss Hargreaves as she carefully re-folded the pyjamas and placed then into a paper carrier bag that sported an advert for her shop "Miss Fairchild will supply all your requirements when looking for Little boys clothes for the bigger boy".

Those will keep you nice and cosy, won't they?" She said as she handed me the carrier bag. 
Sulkily I replied, "I'm not bothered. I won't want to wear them anyway."  Aunty gave me one of her looks again and I knew I had made a mistake.

 "Oh is that so, well let me tell you that we are going straight home this instant, no milkshake for you my lad, I will personally put you into those new pyjamas then you will spend an hour on the naughty seat before putting you over my lap for a smacked bottom. You will learn that it is not you do not decide what you will and won't wear and don't forget it." 

Horrified at her words, I attempted to protest that I was far too old to be punished in that manner but aunty was standing no nonsense from me, grabbing my hand she marched me toward the shop door. 

Miss Fairchild waved at me as I was hurried out of her shop. "Good-bye then, enjoy wearing your new pyjamas, I hope you don't cry like a naught little boy during your spanking, although I hear you usually do. "

Sunday, 16 September 2012

More victims of maternal spankings.


What a lovely example of frilly pink pyjamas the top picture is. You can envisage that the waiting is the worst.
Waiting for "mummy" to administer a maternal spanking before being dispatched straight to bed.

The second picture shows a well spanked bottom while the victim is wearing floral pyjamas. I hope that this spanking again has been a case of over mummy's knee before bedtime. Maternal hand or slipper spankings are my favourites. Lucky chaps the pair of them!

Punished in a nightie. This was written a few years ago by an author going under the name of Blondie. The author explored the wearing of a particular clothing item as a punishment. Of course this nightie story caught my eye.









Sister Mary’s Propensity

It started out as a normal school day in Sister Mary’s seventh grade classroom. The first hour was devoted to English, and the nun was droning on about diagramming sentences. Boredom was already setting in for the majority of the students, as they were entrenched in what looked like just another mundane Wednesday with Sister Mary. But thanks to one of their fellow students, coupled with their teacher’s strong propensity towards enforced humiliation, this day would be anything but mundane.

The thirty-four year old Sister Mary had been teaching grammar school for over eleven years. For the last year or two her job was starting to feel a little stale. The monotony of it all was setting in for her, and she longed for something to spice up her life. She knew she wasn’t going to find that “spice” in the convent, so she often looked to her students for her diversions. As alluded to, she took considerable pleasure in embarrassing, if not downright humiliating her students. She had recently started using her position of power for that purpose, but up until now, not quite to the extreme that she desired. There was the time earlier in the year that she punished one of her students by making him stand in front of the room and sing in front of the whole class. She remembered the pleasure she felt watching him blush profusely while singing his song.

Then there was the time she wrapped a woman’s scarf around another boy’s head. Again, she took extreme pleasure as his face grew redder by the second while she slowly tied the scarf under his chin and purposefully adjusted it until she was satisfied. She had conjectured that imposing female clothing on a young man might be one of the more powerful forms of enforced humiliation, and the boy’s extraordinarily embarrassed reaction to the scarf certainly confirmed that suspicion.

It had been over a month since she had utilized the scarf punishment, and since then she had been waiting for the opportunity to humiliate one of her students in a similar manner. Maybe today would be the day, she thought to herself earlier that morning. So when she spotted Tommy turning around and whispering something to the boy behind him, she decided to pounce on the moment. Little did Tommy know what the consequences would be of the seemingly minor transgression. As it would turn out, he picked the wrong day to make a false step.

“Tommy, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” inquired Sister Mary.

Tommy blushed slightly at the admonition. “No, Sister Mary. Sorry, Sister Mary,” answered Tommy.

A slight smile formed on the corner of her lip. This was the opportunity she had hoped for. “Well, ‘sorry’ isn’t going to be good enough, Tommy. Stand up, please.” Tommy, who was seated in the very front of the second row of students, apprehensively complied. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to interrupt our lessons because of you, is it Tommy?”

Tommy shifted his weight uncomfortably. “No, Sister.”

In fact, it was quite true. Tommy, though generally a good kid, did have a habit of becoming restless when the subject matter didn’t interest him. Already during this school year Sister Mary had punished Tommy on three different occasions. The first time he had to write one hundred times, “I will raise my hand before speaking in Sister Mary’s classroom.” The second time he had to stand in the corner for an hour, which he found mildly embarrassing. The third time came on the day of his thirteenth birthday. On this occasion he had to wear a sign on his chest. Sister Mary made it on the spot, writing in bold and capital letters, “I HAVE BEEN A NAUGHTY LITTLE BOY.” The teasing he received from his fellow students was relentless, especially during the recess and lunch periods. Tommy, embarrassed to no end, seemed to have a constant blush going throughout that day. That was more than a month before, and he had been very careful not to give his teacher an excuse to embarrass him again, especially in light of the fact that Sister Mary’s punishments seemed to be escalating in their level of humiliation. When she tied a feminine scarf around the head one of his fellow students Tommy had cringed, and was ever so relieved it wasn’t happening to him. But now he watched his teacher reach into her drawer and pull out the very same scarf. He felt himself literally tremble with fear as Sister Mary approached.

[Oh, there goes Tommy again, talking while I’m trying to teach. I think I’ll have a little fun with him…yes, he’ll be a perfect little victim…I’ll bet I can make him blush …ah, he’s already getting a little nervous while I’m reprimanding him…I think I’ll use the scarf…I do love the way they blush when I do this…get it out of the drawer here…oh, look at him, he’s already turning red…just wait until I wrap it around his pretty little head .]

{Uh-oh, she caught me talking…and she’s got a funny smile on her face…oh, no, she’s opening the drawer…she’s got the scarf!…oh, please, no, I’ll just die!}

It was at that moment that another student chose to become involved. The student was Tommy’s sister Sally. Tommy had pulled many a practical joke on his slightly older sister, and she had not been amused by any of them. Her intrusion would go a long way towards leading to Tommy’s fateful punishment. She raised her hand, and Sister Mary stopped short of Tommy, somewhat annoyed at the interruption. “Yes, Sally?”

“Sister Mary, I think you should know that Tommy has done something much more serious than just talk out of turn in class. You may well want to consider a harsher punishment when you hear what I have to say.” Sister Mary raised her eyebrows. She was now suddenly quite interested. In fact, she secretly was hoping to hear of serious misconduct on Tommy’s part, one that might warrant a severe, even more humiliating punishment.

Meanwhile, Tommy was becoming panicky, as he knew what his sister was about to divulge. The day before, during the morning recess, Tommy was walking by the drinking fountain with one of his friends. Laura, a fellow seventh-grader, was leaning over the drinking fountain taking a sip of water. Tommy, in an attempt to impress his friend, lifted Laura’s skirt, resting it on her back. The two laughing boys scurried around the corner before the startled and embarrassed girl could see who the culprit was. Tommy had thought no one had seen him, but that night his sister said to him, “I know something that will get you in deep trouble.” Tommy dismissed it at the time, but now it appeared his actions were coming back to haunt him.

“I’m listening, Sally,” answered Sister Mary, somewhat anxiously.

“Well, you’ll be interested to know that yesterday Tommy lifted Laura’s skirt up and exposed her panties while she was leaning over the drinking fountain.”

Tommy clenched his eyes shut in anguish. Sister Mary outwardly appeared riled, but inwardly she was thrilled with the possibilities that were presented by the revelation. She looked at Tommy accusingly. “Is this true, Tommy?” she asked with feigned irritation.

“No, it wasn’t me,” Tommy lied, desperate to recover from his increasingly dire situation.

Sister Mary turned to Tommy’s victim, who was sitting on his immediate right. “Laura, did Tommy lift up your skirt yesterday? It’s okay, sweetheart, you can tell me.”

“I…I…somebody did it, but I didn’t see who,” answered the young, blushing girl.

It was at this moment that another student chose to contribute to the discussion, an overture that ultimately would seal Tommy’s miserable fate. The student was Cindy, Sally’s best friend. Cindy was a pretty little blond girl who sat immediately to Tommy’s left. Tommy had always had a crush on her, but she treated him more like Sally’s little brother than as a peer. She had also been involved as a victim in a couple of Tommy’s practical jokes. The two girls had talked about getting back at him on numerous occasions, but so far the opportunity hadn’t presented itself. Cindy, sensing that her immediate involvement would solidify Tommy’s guilt in the eyes of Sister Mary, raised her hand.

“Cindy, do you have some insight into these distasteful proceedings?” asked Sister Mary.

“Yes I do, Sister Mary. I saw the dirty deed, too. Lifted poor Laura’s skirt straight up her back; her panties were out there for all to see. It was definitely Tommy.” She was lying, since at the time of the violation of Laura, Cindy was engaged in a game of volleyball around the corner from the drinking fountain. But Cindy’s fib notwithstanding, Tommy was now in serious trouble. Sister Mary wore a look of agitation.

“Thank you, Cindy; you have been very helpful.” She turned to the troubled youth, who was now overwhelmed with dread. “As for you, young man…” She let the phrase dangle there momentarily as she contemplated how she would deal with what for her was a delicious situation. She held the scarf up. “I think, given the gravity of your offence, that we need to come up with a punishment that is a little more creative…something a little more embarrassing than this.” Tommy’s trepidation increased, while many of the students sat up in their seats, keenly interested in the scene playing out before them. “Yes, I do believe we can find something much more interesting for you to wear.”

[Yes! Sally and Cindy’s revelation really opens the door for me…bless their devious little minds …so the little pervert is lifting up skirts, is he, checking out the girl’s panties…if he’s so interested in girls’ clothes then I’ve got just the thing for him…heh- eh…I’ve always wanted to pull out the nightie…forget this scarf…we’re about to escalate the humiliation…oh, this is going to be fun!]

{Oh, please, I’ll never talk in class again…please don’t put the scarf on me…what does Sally want…oh no, Laura’s skirt…she’s telling her!…Oh, God, Cindy’s backing her up…I’m in for it now…what does she mean, something more embarrassing for me to wear?…worse than the scarf?…oh, God!…what is she doing?!}


The Nightgown

Sister Mary smiled to herself. She had already decided on a course of action. Two months before, she had put a nightgown in her desk drawer. It was the nightgown that she had worn when she was a young girl. She often fantasized about forcing one of her boy students to put it on as punishment, but she never had carried out the fantasy. She was concerned that there might be some backlash from the one of the students’ parents if word got out about what some may consider an act of depravity. But at this particular moment the need to satisfy her prurient desires far outweighed her concern about any possible repercussions.

“Yes, I’ve got just the thing for you, Tommy.” She stuffed the scarf in the pocket of her habit and walked purposefully to her desk and opened the bottom drawer. When she stood up, to the fascination of the students and to Tommy’s utter distress she was holding a long-sleeved, winceyette nightdress, femininely decorated with pink flowers. The sleeves were elasticated at the cuffs to form a ruffle. She held it up and examined both sides. Seeming quite satisfied, she turned her attention to the cowering boy standing next to his desk. “Do you know what ‘shame clothing’ is, Tommy?” asked Sister Mary.

Tommy frantically tried to extricate himself from this most disconcerting predicament. “I-I’m really sorry, Sister Mary; I promise…I promise I’ll never misbehave again. Please, I promise.” His quivering voice betrayed his apprehension.

Sister Mary wasn’t about to back down. “Answer my question, Tommy. What do you think ‘shame clothing’ refers to?”

“I g-guess it would be…clothing that…clothing that…that would…shame somebody.” The nervous student fidgeted noticeably.

“You are quite right, Tommy. And I’m sure when you’re on display at the front of the class wearing this nightgown for everyone to see you will feel an extreme sense of shame. I think you’ll find this a very effective punishment,” she said as she strolled towards the wide-eyed and horrified Tommy. “I expect that you’ll be blushing like a little schoolgirl.” She stopped in front of Tommy and briefly looked down at the nightgown. “And you’ll look like one, too,” the grinning nun said with a laugh. While his classmates joined their teacher in laughter, Sister Mary brushed the nightie against his cheek, "can you feel how soft the material is Tommy?" she said as she then held up the nightie by the shoulders  for the very red-faced student. “Here you are, Tommy. I’d like you to go to the cloakroom, strip off your clothes and change into this,” ordered Sister Mary.

Tommy was frozen in his tracks. His arms remained at his sides as he was too stupefied to move. Sister Mary used that moment to assert her power and establish her dominance. She slapped the stunned boy across the face. The noise of the slap reverberated throughout the classroom, and the sting elicited a well of tears in Tommy’s eyes.

Tommy grudgingly reached out and took the nightgown from her hands. Sister Mary continued with her instructions. “Now, I’d like you to go back into the cloakroom and take off all of your clothes, including your underwear. When you are naked, you’re to slip on your pretty new nightgown, then come out and show off your new look for us.” Sister Mary looked Tommy up and down and used her imagination to envision the unfortunate lad naked, then in the female attire. She looked at Tommy’s blushing face and was unable to suppress a smirk. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll make quite the pretty little model, don’t you think so? ” She paused momentarily while Tommy fixed his stare to the ground, wallowing in his wretchedness. “Now, if you behave yourself then I’ll let you have your school uniform back in time for the morning recess. Move along now; you’ve wasted enough of our valuable time already. I’m sure your classmates are very anxious to see you in your new finery.”

[My, the look on his face when I pulled out the nightgown…like a frightened kitten …oh, he won’t take it…I’ll show him…I hate to slap him, but he needs to know who’s in control here…there, I think he gets it now…I’ve got him where I want him…he’ll cater to any humiliation I choose to impose on him …I can’t wait to see him in my old nightie…he has feminine features, he’ll look just lovely …and I’m sure he’ll be blushing so…they blush so much with the scarf…imagine what he’ll look like walking out here in front of all his classmates, wearing a little girl’s floral nightie…oh, this will be precious!]

{Oh my God, what is that?…it’s a nightgown!…a floral one!…I can’t wear that!…oh, this isn’t happening…she’s trying to hand it to me…no, I can’t take it…ow!…she slapped me!…man, that really hurt!…I have to take it…oh, God…I have to go put this on…how can I face my classmates?}

Tommy, his face now fire engine red, turned and walked towards the cloakroom with the nightgown. He walked briskly and averted all eye contact by staring straight down to the linoleum floor. He could hear the giggling and could sense everyone’s stares. When he reached the cloakroom he threw the nightgown on a table, purposely avoiding looking at it. He was trembling, and the feeling of dread for what he was about to do was overpowering. He started to unbutton his shirt, but he couldn’t bring himself to begin undressing himself. He decided to make a last-ditch effort to maintain a small semblance of dignity. He stepped out from the cloakroom and called out to his teacher. “Sister Mary, may I at least just put it on over my clothes?”

“You mean you don’t have your clothes off yet, Tommy?” Sister Mary was now genuinely irritated. “As I said, you’re to be completely naked underneath your nightgown. It’s all part of your shame punishment. You seem to be missing the point. You see, the whole class will know that you’re naked underneath your nightgown. We’ll all know that you are just one article of clothing from being completely nude. Can’t you just imagine how vulnerable that will make you feel, Tommy? Think about it. If you make one false move, if the mood strikes me, I can slip the nightgown right off and have you naked in a matter of seconds.” The nun paused to let it sink in. “So it is in your best interest young man, to do exactly as I say. I’ll give you two minutes, and if you haven’t stripped all your clothes off and slipped into your nightie, then I’ll come back there and undress you myself.”

Again Tommy heard the giggling from his classmates as he returned to the cloakroom. He shuddered as he visualized himself in the nightgown. And worse, he visualized Sister Mary pulling it right off at her whim, rendering him completely naked in front of everybody. He was resigned to his nightmarish fate as he unbuttoned and removed his shirt. He then grudgingly pulled off his vest. It was a strange feeling to be naked from the waist up with his teacher and classmates just on the other side of the partition. He reached down and pulled off his shoes and socks. He started to unbuckle his belt, but then wavered, and chose to take another path. He would put the nightgown on first. He shuddered as he lifted the feminine garment over his head and slipped it on. He saw his reflection in the full-length mirror and realized how humiliating it was going to be to have to model the nightgown for his classmates and teacher. He reached underneath and slowly started undoing his belt buckle.

“Tommy, you have one minute. Trust me, you don’t want me to have to come in there,” he heard Sister Mary warn. “If I do, I’ll drag you out here, put you over my knee and warm your bare behind in front of the whole class. Then you’ll really know the meaning of shame.”

The giggling became louder. Tommy needed no further encouragement. He hastily undid the belt and slipped off his pants. He looked in the mirror and saw an image of a red-faced boy wearing a girl’s nightgown. The hem had cascaded to the floor and nestled, worryingly comfortingly on top of his bare feet. The sight of himself caused him to shiver. He started to reach under the nightgown to remove his underpants but then stopped. His sense of shame was already at a high level; to be entirely naked underneath the nightgown was more than he thought he could endure. He did remember being told to remove all of his clothes, but surely, he thought, he could get away with leaving his underpants on. Besides, she would never know the difference thought Tommy. She certainly wouldn’t pull up the nightgown to check. Would she?

Tommy’s level of anxiety was already extremely high, but it intensified as he considered how Sally and Cindy would be revelling in his humiliation. Tommy had cringed when he heard Cindy’s distinctive giggle as he was walking back to the cloakroom with the nightgown. He knew the giggling would turn into outright laughter in a few short moments. He took in the mental image of walking out there, and he buried his face in his hands at the prospect.

{Oh, God…I can’t believe I have to put this on…I can’t do this…maybe I can at least put it on over my clothes…I’ll ask her…oh, God, I have to be completely naked underneath…I have two minutes or she’ll come back here and do it herself…I certainly can’t let her see me naked...no way!...I have to start stripping…oh, this is a nightmare…she’s so mean!…here goes my shirt…and my vest…brrr…I’ve got goose bumps…here go the shoes and socks…now the pants…no, I’ll put the nightgown on first in case she comes back here…I can’t let her see me in my underpants…oh, look at me in this nightgown…it smells…smells like perfume…eww…oh, how can I go out there like this?…it will be unbearable!…oh, I have one minute or she’ll spank me…on my bare behind!…how did I get in this mess?…oh, how I wish I never lifted Laura’s skirt…I didn’t think anybody would see…I have to take my pants off…and look how red my face is…and I’m not even out there yet…my face is so hot…why do I blush so much?…oh, this is terrible…do I have to take off my underpants?…she wants me totally bare underneath…here goes…no!…I can’t do it…she’ll never know…she wouldn’t go that far…oh, please, don’t let her go that far!…oh, this is just awful!…how can I go out there and have them all see me like this?…especially Sally and Cindy…I know they’re just loving this…oh, they’ll all be laughing at me…I’ll never get over this!…oh!}

“Okay, Tommy, time’s up,” announced the nun as another smile formed on her lips. “Please come out and show your classmates how pretty you look.”

Taunted in the Nightgown

Back in the cloakroom, Tommy could hear the buzzing emanating from the students. With considerable trepidation he poked his red face out and saw the faces of twenty-four students, fourteen girls, ten boys and one teacher staring back at him with looks of anticipation. He quickly retreated and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He braced himself and quickly emerged, looking straight down and made for his desk. The full length nightie however made walking difficult as it swished against his legs and he automatically grasped the winceyette material and lifted the hem so he could walk more easily.  Laughter filled the room as the students took in the extraordinary scene. Tommy just wanted to crawl into the seat of his desk to secure at least a minimal amount of relief. When he arrived at his desk in the front of the second row he quickly slid into his seat. He self-consciously put his knees together and once again experienced the pleasant sensation of the soft material resting on top of his feet. He couldn’t help but to turn and steal a glance at his “audience,” and he wasn’t surprised to find his gaze answered by a host of grinning faces. He blushed brightly as he caught Cindy’s eye. She was obviously enjoying the moment. He glanced up at Sister Mary and noticed that she was smiling broadly to herself—she seemed to almost be glowing in her state of pleasure.

Indeed, Sister Mary was in her glory. She always knew she had a dominant side, with a strong bend towards humiliation, especially involving the male gender. And here she had a thirteen-year-old boy completely under her control. Not only that, it was Tommy, who, given her choice, she would have picked over any other of her students to play victim to her deviant desires. She was getting an extra thrill out of humiliating the innocent looking, slender, blond-haired, baby-faced and blue-eyed boy. She felt a stimulation in her loins that she hadn’t felt in some time, and there was no telling to what extreme she would pursue her sordid fantasy. She knew full well that she could get herself into trouble, even to the point of being dismissed from the convent. But at this point her prurient desires were overwhelming, and superseded any concerns of the consequences of her actions. At the moment she sensed instant gratification, and she certainly was going to make the most of her opportunity.

“Tommy, could you please come up here so we can have a look at you in your shame clothing?” invited Sister Mary. The abashed Tommy hung his head as he trudged to the front of the classroom. He stood facing his nemesis. Sister Mary took his hands in hers and revelled in his blushing, downcast face. “You look lovely in your new nightie, Tommy,” teased his teacher. “ But you have forgotten to button up your nightie, we don't want you to catch a chill do we children?" She addressed her  remark to the class who chorused back, "no Miss."  Tommy cringed as Sister Mary bent toward him and fastened the three neck buttons and deliberately and slowly smoothed down the Peter pan collar. She then tugged down the sleeves of the nightie so that the frilled cuffs rested neatly on Tommy's wrists.

"She continued, "you smell so nice, too. I love your perfume.” She paused to relish in her victim’s blushing face before continuing. “You know, I used to wear this very nightgown when I was a little girl, but I don’t think I looked nearly as pretty in it as you do.” Tommy heard the laughter behind him, and turned yet redder under the taunting from the nun. “And you’re blushing so much, Tommy, that your face matches the bright floral flowers on your gown. I think we should share this with your classmates, don’t you?”

She took hold of his left hand and turned him around to face his peers. She let go and walked full circle around Tommy, eyeing him up and down and smiling broadly. She left him standing there feeling his shame, as his classmates soaked up the unusual spectacle. Tommy stood and absorbed the humiliation, looking straight down and fighting off tears. “You may return to your seat now, Tommy, and, if you behave yourself, I’ll take your nightie back at 9:45.”

Tommy returned to his seat and glanced at the clock. It was 9:15, so he would only have to endure the agonizing experience for another half an hour. There was no way he would do anything to jeopardize his already-dismal fate.


Missing Underpants

Sister Mary had already decided that Tommy was not going to get his clothes back, though, and she found the perfect justification to deny him. When she had taken hold of his hand she had inadvertently brushed her fingers against his sides and had felt the outline of his underpants. She decided right then and there to take full advantage of Tommy’s disobedience. She let a couple of minutes go by before taking her next step. She called to one of the students in the back of the room. Not coincidentally, she picked his sister. “Sally, would you do me a favour and go back to the cloakroom and retrieve all of Tommy’s clothes for me?” Tommy stiffened in his seat. He wasn’t sure what his teacher was up to, but he didn’t have a positive feeling about the direction that things were heading. Sally emerged from the cloakroom with Tommy’s clothes and sauntered up to the front of the room. “You can lay them on my desk, Sally.” Sally complied and looked over at her brother. She grinned as she turned and returned to her seat. “Thank you, Sally,” said Sister Mary.

Sister Mary began sifting through Tommy’s clothes. She picked them up one by one and set them aside, forming a new pile. For affect, she had a confused look on her face and again picked each article of clothing up one by one. Tommy’s heart raced as he realized what his teacher was up to. “Sally,” asked Sister Mary, “Are you sure you brought all of Tommy’s clothes up here? We seem to be missing his underpants.”

“I’m sure,” responded Sally dutifully, “I didn’t see Tommy’s underpants back there.” After a pause, she volunteered, “Maybe he’s still wearing them, Sister Mary.” Sister Mary glared at Tommy, who had a panicked look on his face. Then he had an idea.

“I know where they are, Sister Mary, I’ll go get them.” Tommy rose from his desk as if to run back to the cloakroom.

“You stay right where you are, young man!” she bellowed. The chagrined Tommy stopped in his tracks and sat back down. “Sally will get them for you if you just tell her where they are.” She was enjoying herself as she watched Tommy fidget anxiously. “Well, what did you do with them, Tommy, did you hide them? You’d better not be lying to me, young man. You’re already in enough trouble as it is. Now tell us where your underpants are.”

Tommy’s situation was hopeless. He had to confess before digging an even deeper hole for himself. Looking downward, he said softly, “I’m still wearing them.”

“I beg your pardon?” Sister Mary feigned incredulity. “Did I or did I not tell you that you were to be naked under your nightgown?” Tommy was silent. “Answer me, young man.”

“I didn’t know you meant my underpants, too, Sister. I’m sorry. I’ll take them off now if that’s what you want.” Tommy was desperately trying to find a way out of his predicament.

“You know very well what naked means young, you disobedient little boy. Well it’s too late now. Come up here right now.”


Underpants Exposure

Tommy, head bowed, walked up to the centre of the room where he again faced his teacher.

“What am I going to do with you, Tommy? First you disobey me and then you lie to me.”

Sister Mary reached down and up underneath the hem of the nightgown, with each hand and grasped the waistband of his underpants and yanked them down so they nestled around his ankles.. Tommy’s jaw dropped, and he was too dumbstruck to do anything. “Step to the left Tommy, she ordered. As he did so the underpants remained crumpled on the floor, but not for long. Sister Mary picked them up and showed them to the rest of the class. A collective gasp, followed by loud giggling emanated from the students, as Tommy’s underpants were completely exposed. Sister Mary then did something even she couldn't have dreamed off. She pulled the underpants down over Tommy's head, covering his face.

With his eyes were covered, Tommy couldn’t see Sister Mary grinning at the comical sight. He couldn’t see her scrutinizing the small, only noticeable to her, protrusion in his nightie and the little damp stain that accompanied it.

Her grin became even wider. He couldn’t see her walk the full circle around him, inspecting him from every angle. But he could certainly hear the giggling from his classmates. He felt his face flushing as he stood there in his floral nightie with his underpants over his face.

Sister Mary lifted up the underpants just enough to make eye contact with the red-faced, agonized Tommy. “Are you happy now, Tommy, with your decision to disobey me and keep your underpants on?” Tommy shook his head back and forth. “I thought not. But I can tell you, your classmates are happy with your decision, judging by the expression on their faces. They obviously find your exposure highly entertaining.

Tommy listened to the renewed laughter and felt his face flush yet brighter. In one respect he was relieved to be hiding his blushing face, but in another way the awkward feeling of being on display without being able to see anything somehow added to his humiliation.

[Oh, here he comes…my, would you just look at him!…a sight for sore eyes …his face is even floraler than the nightie …how adorable…this is so much better than the scarf…I’ll have fun teasing the poor lad…let’s get him up here…yes, this is delightful…I’m glad I sprayed the nightie with perfume…he gets to experience his humiliation with all five of the senses…he’s ideal for this…baby-faced, blond, slender…delicate features…and look at him blushing so brightly…this is wonderful!…my, I’m getting a little hot and bothered…I might have to put him through his paces today…an opportunity of a lifetime…you’ve been waiting a long time for this, Mary…like I tell my students, carpe diem …let’s turn him around so his friends can see the nightie better and his blushing face…wait!…what’s this I feel?…the little rascal left his underpants on…thought he could pull one over on me…thank you, my little pet…that’s just the excuse I need…we’ll just have to step up the humiliation another notch …is it getting warmer in here?…no, it’s me …let’s take it slowly, Mary…have some fun with this…okay, I’ll send him back to his seat…I’ll get Sally to bring his clothes up here…yes, he’s fidgeting a bit already, wondering what I’m up to…I’ll toy with him for a bit…go through his clothes one by one…oh, he’s sweating now…it’s time, my frightened one, you’ve got no way out of this…time to ‘fess up…that’s it, now come up here and let’s have some fun with you…you can show off your precious undies to us…oh, I’m actually trembling…this is so exciting!…look at him, he’s trembling, too…but for a different reason …over his head they go…perfect…oh, what a treat this is …look at the tiny bulge in his nightie…poor little lad, I have a hunch he’s been deprived in the penis department …all the more embarrassing for him, I suspect …an therefore, more enjoyable for me …let’s take a little stroll around my little victim… slowly…enjoy the moment…I think I’ve died and gone to heaven…and this is just the beginning…there’s no turning back now, Mary…you’ll never get a chance like this again.]

{Oh, God…I’ve got to go out there…I’ll make a run for it…here I go…oh, listen to them laughing…oh, this is awful…here’s my seat…pull this nightgown down…oh, it barely goes past my knees…they’re all grinning and laughing…look at Cindy…I’ve never seen her laugh so hard…oh!…and look at Sister Mary, just standing up there and smiling at me…just do the English class, for God’s sake, would you?…oh, no, she wants me to come up there…here I go…she won’t stop teasing me…oh, no, she’s turning me around to face them…oh, my face is so hot!…Sally, she’s grinning so evilly…looks like the devil…I can always hear Cindy over everybody…Sister Mary is walking all the way around me, grinning…she’s really enjoying herself…I never knew she could be so mean…I’ve got to keep from crying…please, just let me sit down…oh, thank you…I get my clothes back at 9:45…just a half hour…oh, I can’t wait…just sit here quietly and it’ll be over…wait!…why is she sending Sally for my clothes?…oh, I don’t like this at all!…she’ll notice my underpants aren’t there!…oh, why didn’t I take them off?…I just couldn’t…she’s going through them…I think she notices already…how did she know?…oh, God, I’m in trouble…she’s going through them again…oh, Sally’s trying to get me in trouble…I hate her…what can I do?…I know, I’ll run back there and act like I’m finding them…yes!…oh, no, she won’t let me…I’m in for it now…Oh, God, she wants me to come up there again…what will she do to me?…oh!…she’s putting her hands up the nightgown!…no!…oh, she’s putting my underpants over my head… I can't see anything...they can see my underpants on my head and I'm wearing a floral nightie !…oh!…I can’t believe this!…listen to them!…how can I ever face them again?…oh, …this is awful!…this is so weird…I can’t see them, but I know what they can see…my underpants!…they’re laughing so hard…oh!}



Monday, 10 September 2012

Pyjama punishment for this naughty boy.

I was sixteen, it was the summer holidays, and on a Tuesday afternoon at 3pm aunty removed the plug from the bathtub. I had just been given a punishment bath by aunty. This had entailed an intrusive interrogation with a soapy flannel of the most intimate parts of my body ending with a mouth soaping so intense that I gagged several times as aunty worked the flannel around my mouth.   "Come along you naughty little boy, I will teach you to tell lies to aunty." My crime had been to "forget" to tell aunty I had crept out of the house for five minutes to have a crafty cigarette when I was supposed to be busy polishing the cutlery. Unluckily for me, I had forgotten about Miss Masterton, the spinster who lived opposite. She had had spied upon me as she often did, through her binoculars and rang aunty to inform her that there was a little boy outside wearing babyish pyjamas who appeared to be smoking a cigarette. Of course I was even more naive when I foolishly denied my crime after Aunty had confronted me. When Miss Masterton appeared  in person to confirm my crime I had no choice but to confess and so found myself being stripped of my rocket ship pyjamas and
unceremoniously deposited into a soapy bathtub.
Aunty dried me roughly and marched me naked downstairs. To my horror, Miss Masterton was still there, she smirked as I attempted to cover myself. Aunty slapped my hands aside. "Not only did you lie to me about smoking but you lied about sneaking out of the house too. Well my lad, perhaps you won't be so keen to be seen in public wearing these." It was only then that I noticed that in Miss Masterton's lap was a pair of pink floral pyjamas. Grinning like a Cheshire cat she held up the pyjama jacket. With aunty behind me ensuring my compliance Miss Masterton guided my arms into the soft, brushed cotton, frilly pyjama jacket and I was turned to face her as she buttoned me into it. The pyjama jacket had a ruffle neck that was fastened with two buttons at the very top. "No please," it's too tight," I begged pathetically. Miss Masterton and aunty ignored my protests and merely continued adjusteding the sleeves of the pyjama jacket that had elasticised cuffs.
"Step." Miss Masterton commanded as I put first one leg then the other into the pyjama bottoms. Miss Masterton slid the pyjamas up over my thighs and positioned them precisely on my waist. Using her hand she smoothed the brushed cotton material against my groin. I moaned slightly and she felt my excitement at her touch. Miss Masterton laughed and placed two fingers under my chin, raising my head and forcing me to stare into her face.” Your nephew looks so sweet wearing his frilly pink floral pyjamas, I think I shall have to bring more pairs for him to wear." Her hand, masked from my aunt's view, continued to casually caress the brushed cotton of my pyjama bottoms in a manner that almost caused me to disgrace myself further. "Please do," replied aunty, who inadvertently rescued me with the promise of a spanking. "He will be wearing girls pyjamas for the foreseeable future so I will need plenty of pairs for him. Now, get over my lap for a smacked botty before I put you straight to bed." I tried to protest that it was only 3.30 but aunty only became angrier and, after informing me that 3.30 would become my regular holiday bedtime, asked Miss Masterton if she could think of an additional punishment. Miss Masterton paused for a moment before saying. "What if you were to bring him across to my house tomorrow at say 10 o'clock? He would be wearing his pretty girls pyjamas of course, we could get him to try on some more pairs and we could choose a pair for him to wear whilst he performed some chores for me. You needn't stay. I would bring him back in time for his bedtime of course." She smiled serenely as she spoke. "I may need to put him across my lap myself if his behaviour warrents, I trust that would be permissible?  Like you, I do so believe in maternal spanking's to persuade naughty boys to do as they are told" Aunty enthusiastically agreed, adding that it was every females duty to regularly spank the males under their control, and thenI was put straight to bed wearing my frilly, pink floral pyjamas, dreading what the morning would bring.

Thursday, 6 September 2012

Maternal spankings, juvenile pyjamas and an early bedtime at the hands of aunty.







I had enjoyed a relaxing holiday and on my return I headed off to visit Aunty. Oops! I had forgotton to send her a postcard. In no time she had dressed me in my little boy punishment pyjamas and put me over her knee for a bedtime spanking. Aunty patiently explained as she took me across her lap, that since she was in effect my guardian, it was her maternal duty to treat me like a child when my behaviour warranted it. Subsequently I was put to bed at 4.30 on Friday afternoon and I spent the rest of the weekend experiencing  pyjama and early bedtime punishment with frequent visits across auntys lap.