Maternal spankings whilst already dressed in your pyjamas are much more common than you would think. Here are a few examples.

Poor Philip thinks his seventeenth birthday means he can wear big boys pyjamas. However Aunt Agatha has different ideas. Her gift signifies she intends to keep him dressed in babyish pyjamas for a long time yet.

Simon's Early Bedtime.

 A semi-clad Simon ran toward the door and jumped up in a vain attempt to reach the door handle.
“Just where do you think you are going? You’ve just earned your first spanking you naughty little boy. Come here and let’s finish getting you undressed.” Simon, unable to answer thanks to the baby's dummy strapped into his mouth, was helpless as an immense pair of female hands grasped his shoulders and led him back to where the Miss Barnstable sat. The diminutive Simon was lifted back onto her lap where she held him more tightly than ever as Miss Earnshaw pulled his t-shirt off over his head and removed his underpants, leaving him sitting naked on the larger females lap.

Less than a half an hour earlier he had happily rang the doorbell of the four-storey house set slightly back from the rest of the row.

“You must be little baby Simon, we were expecting you earlier.”

Philip was taken aback to be addressed as baby Simon and at the size of the two women who greeted him. His aunt never mentioned that her friends were so tall.  As he was only four foot six, being confronted by these two, grey-haired women who were both over six foot tall was quite intimidating.

“Your aunt advised us you would be here at 4 pm, it’s almost 4.15 now. Where have you been?”

"I, er.... just the train was...." 

His aunt had allowed him to travel independently for the first time in his life and the train journey down had excited him immensely despite twice being asked by concerned-looking women if he had lost his parents. On both occasions, he had indignantly shown them his passport to prove he was seventeen.

"Don't mumble boy, come with me, we need to get you ready." The

These two intimidating women who he was to stay with during the summer made Simon feel as if he was being admonished for something as he was ushered into the front room and the door firmly closed behind him. His first impression was how everything was scaled to the height of the two women, even the door handles had been raised higher, way out of his reach, and he wondered how he would manoeuvre his way around the house.

"Get ready for what," he enquired nervously as he was led through.

He was struck as to how everything was scaled to meet the needs of the two women, even the door handles had been raised higher, way out of his reach, and he wondered how he would manoeuvre his way around the house.

One of his aunt’s friends sat upright on a hard-backed chair. The slightly taller one, wearing the pink floral blouse stood beside her and it was she who spoke to him.

“I am Miss Earnshaw, and this is Miss Barnstable,” she said indicating toward her seated companion.

“During your stay here, you will learn to behave in a manner that we see fit for a boy of your stature. You will be punished with regular over the knee spankings and since we have determined you little boy age to be that of a five-year-old you will be ready for bed wearing your little boy pyjamas by 3 pm every day.”

Simon thought that this was all some kind of joke and laughed nervously.

Miss Barnstable tapped her lap. “Something funny little boy? We are already late, time to get you ready for beddy-byes, come here.”

Miss Earnshaw reached for his arm and before he could react he found himself propelled forward and lifted onto Miss Barnstable’s lap. Her arms enveloped him, pinning him to her as Miss Earnshaw’s left hand grabbed his jaw and squeezed, forcing his mouth into an ‘o’ shape.

Simon felt the large, bulbous rubber teat engulf his mouth before he actually saw the blue dummy in her hand. The mouth guard rammed up against his upper and lower lips and he felt the rubber engulf his mouth as the Velcro straps were secured behind his head.

“Mmmmmphhh….” He tried to cry out but his tongue was unable to move and a nonsensical, infantile utterance was all he could muster.

Miss Earnshaw’s busy hands had already removed his shoes, socks and trousers before Miss Barnstaple’s grip slackened slightly to allow access to the hem of his t-shirt. He wriggled free and made his bid for freedom.

Back in the clutches of Miss Barnstable, the naked Simon was turned across her knee and his bare bottom was soundly spanked.

"Naughty naughty little boy." She spoke as she spanked, ignoring his frantically kicking legs and his muffled cries of protest. "It's a good job you can't reach the door handles.Imagine what could happen to our babykins if you went outside all by yourself. We won't let that happen though, will we? Our little Philip will always have one of us to look after him."  

“Mmmmmphhh….” was all he could manage as the stinging spanks mercifully came to an end.

He was carried into the kitchen sobbing. Through his tear-misted eyes, he became more horrified as he found himself being lowered into a plastic bath. The tepid water engulfed him momentarily as his head was submerged, panicking he struggled until Miss Barnstable's strong hands lifted him up. The two women proceeded to wash him intimately, their strong arms ensuring he stayed firmly under their control. Finally, he was lifted out and enveloped in a fluffy towel that Miss Earnshaw used to quite roughly dry him. He was totally disorientated by now and as Miss Earnshaw laid him down onto a fresh clean towel it took him a few moments before he realised what was happening to him. She grabbed his ankles, lifting up his legs she slipped a nappy under him, Miss Barnstable continued to keep him firmly under her control as Miss Earnshaw lowered his legs, Simon felt the caress of the soft fluffy material as he was swiftly and expertly pinned into the nappy.

“Baby Simon will be spending a lot of time tucked up in beddy-byes so he needs to wear nappy-wappy's to keep his jimmy-jams all nice and dry.” Cooed Miss Earnshaw, using syrupy baby talk. The poor horrified seventeen-year-old then suffered the indignity of having a  pair of blue plastic baby pants fitted over his nappy. Miss Barnstable hugged the nappy-clad teenager into her bosom and kissed his cheek, “what a sweet babykins you are,” she again cooed in her annoying baby voice.

Simon was totally bewildered and wondered what other humiliations he would have to endure. Then he saw Miss Earnshaw approach him again. In her hands was a baby blue pyjama jacket emblazoned with a Thomas the Tank motif that she held in front of her like a matadors cape.

 Philip shook his head, “Mmmmmphhh…!” 
Again he was unable to articulate the words that formed in his head.

Miss Barnstable forced his arm out straight and the pyjama jacket sleeve was slipped onto it. Philip was helpless as he felt the soft-brushed cotton surround his bare torso. Miss Earnshaw buttoned the pyjamas up to his neck as he tried to fight back by kicking out his legs that dangled toddler like over his captor's lap.

“Naughty- naughty little Philip, you will be punished severely for that misbehaviour,” warned Miss Barnstable as she slapped his legs with her bare hand. “Mmmmmphhh…!”
Miss Barnstable manoeuvred Philip so that Miss Earnshaw could ease his legs into the footed Thomas the Tank pyjama bottoms.

Poor Philip tried to wriggle and squirm free as he saw the pyjama bottoms but he was held more firmly than ever. As the pyjama bottoms were moved up his legs he noticed that the inseams of the pyjamas were sewn together. His legs were effectively becoming bound together.

Miss Barnstaple stood him down but still held him tight as Miss Earnshaw positioned the pyjama bottoms over the hem of his pyjama jacket. Buttonholes, sewn into in the waistband of the pyjama bottoms, enabled her to button the bottom to the top.

Philip’s left hand was then tied into a pale blue lambswool mitten that had a length of cord attached to it. Miss Earnshaw threaded the cord through loops on the waist of the pyjama bottoms and attached it to a matching mitten that was promptly tied onto Philips right hand.

Philip was lifted back onto Miss Barnstable’s lap and she turned to face a long mirror. He stared; horrified at the reflection of his helpless, infantile pyjama clad self.

“Mmmmmphhh…!” He protested pointlessly. Miss Barnstable grasped the ring of the dummy and waggled it up and down.

“Aren’t you a sweet little boy all ready for beddy-byes?” She asked mockingly and laughed as Philips nodding head appeared to agree with her statement.

She cuddled Philip into her chest, his cheek pressed against the pink floral material of her blouse as she similarly gently caressed his brushed cotton encased arm of his newly acquired pyjamas.

“There-there, we’ll soon have you tucked up in beddy-byes. It’s after your bedtime Philip, we had intended your bedtime to be 5 pm but until you learn to behave as we require from tomorrow you will have a 4 o’clock bedtime.”
The ripping sound of the Velcro signalled momentarily freedom, as suddenly his mouth was free of the large bulbous rubber teat. Unluckily for Simon the teat of a baby’s bottle immediately replaced it.

Miss Barnstable tipped Philip backwards. With incapacitated arms and legs, Philip was totally helpless to prevent himself ending up cradled in Miss Barnstable’s arms as if he were an infant in arms as warm sickly sweet milk hit the back of his throat.

“That’s a good boy, drink up all your milk so you can go sleepy-byes,” she urged, tipping the bottle ever more steeply.

Much to his relief Philip finished the bottle. He burped and a trickle of milk dribbled down his chin. Miss Barnstable laughed as she quickly re-inserted his dummy, “ Does baby need his windy-woos up den?” She teased, starting to rub his pyjama clad back in a circular motion. Simon could do nothing but sit on her lap and suffer the indignation being perpetrated upon him.

Worryingly, after a few minutes, Simon began to feel his eyes struggle to stay open and if he could have yawned he would have.

Miss Barnstable waggled his dummy again as she asked, “ Is Simon tired? Does Simon want to go to beddy-byes now?” Again she laughed as she made him nod his head in agreement.

Miss Barnstable stood up and Simon was lifted up into her arms. He involuntarily rested his head, heavy now with sleep, on her shoulder and he was aware of stairs being climbed.

“Aaahh, here you are. “Simon lifted his head slightly. Miss Earnshaw stood beside a blue painted cot, the rail on one side was lowered and Miss Barnstable stood him down onto a thick pile carpet.

Teetering unsteadily Simon was guided by the two women into the cot. His head was heavier than it had ever been and he was happy to lay it down on the pillow. He was almost asleep as the baby blue blanket was tucked around him and the cot rail was raised and locked into place.

Miss Earnshaw and Miss Barnstable looked down at their sleepy seventeen-year-old guest who was wearing a nappy, plastic baby pants and Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas while rhythmically sucking on a baby dummy.

A naughty boy over nanny's lap while nanny's trainee looks on.

Replies from Pyjama Punishment Monthly

Thank you for your most informative magazine. I was struggling to keep my nephew Simon from going off the rails until I discovered pyjama punishment. Now, at the age of sixteen he goes to bed on school nights at 6.30. I collect him from school at 3.30 as if he was a toddler and as soon as we arrive home I supervise bath time and dress him in his pyjamas ready for bed. My neighbour Miss Fulbright makes his pyjamas especially for him. She uses babyish patterned brushed cotton material for his pyjamas that he absolutely hates wearing. Two months into his pyjama punishment I still put him across my knee every night for a spanking to remind him that aunty is in charge. Once he is safely buttoned into his pyjamas he settles down to his studies until I call him for supper. At 6 o’clock he brushes his teeth and presents himself to me. It is then that I take him across my knee for his bedtime spanking. After his spanking he receives a cuddle from aunty and I take him upstairs to tuck him into bed.
His bedroom is strictly functional. There are no electronic distractions, just a bed and a chair that I sit in to read him a bedtime story. His curtains are made from blackout material and ensure no daylight can penetrate once they are fully drawn. This is particularly helpful during the lighter nights when Simon is reluctant to go to sleep. I use a nightlight to read to him but once this is turned off his bedroom is in total darkness, just right to induce a healthy nights sleep.
On Friday night I follow the same early routine with Simon, he is bathed, dressed in his pyjamas but his bedtime is 7 o’clock. The only proviso is that Simon must spend that extra half hour sitting on my lap for extra bedtime cuddles. Problems usually occur on Saturdays when I like him to be ready for bed by 3pm aiming for a 5 o’clock bedtime. Miss Fulbright and her sister come for afternoon tea and I like them to see Simon dressed in the babyish pyjamas she has kindly made for him. For some reason Simon resists my attempts to get him ready for beddy-byes and always ends up in tears across my knee. Am I being too harsh on him on Saturdays? I would dearly appreciate some advice from your contributors as to how I can proceed with Simon’s pyjamas punishment.

Yours truly

Beatrice Halewood.

Dear Beatrice

I had a similar problem with my son at the same age. Perhaps you should consider this approach.

Either for bed on Friday or when he gets up on Saturday, dress him in female nightwear, perhaps a long pink nightie or some floral pyjamas. Then, when your guests are due to arrive; offer him the chance to change into a pair of the little boy pyjamas that Miss Fulbright has sewn for him.  I have no doubt Simon will jump at the chance to change from his feminine nightwear into his usual style pyjamas. In this way you will give Simon the impression that you are empowering him and that he has influence over what pyjamas he wears. Then, to reinforce your position of dominance put him to bed at 4.45 instead of 5.Something like,” you’re a little bit too excited Simon, I think it’s best you say goodnight and we get you tucked into bed.” A firm hand on his shoulders should be enough to steer him up to bed without tears or spankings.

Hope this helps.

Mrs Dingle

Of course you are not being to hard on him. Be firm and don’t take any nonsense from him. Spank him without mercy with a slipper and put him to bed at 5 on school nights when possible. Pyjamas and nappies to be worn at all times during the weekend and give him corner time with a dummy in his mouth. Put him to bed at lunchtime during the weekend and above all make sure he stays your little baby boy.

No-nonsense mummy.

The ladies who spank consider how to punish their naughty little boy, as if being forced to wear those frilly pink pyjamas wasn't punishment enough!

Good old Marks & Spencer could always be relied upon for traditonal striped winceyette pyjamas. I've had this St Michael pair for many a year.

A more recent post from Pyjama Punishment Monthly. I will give you a chance to offer your own advice before I publish some of the replies.

Thank you for your most informative magazine. I was struggling to keep my nephew Simon from going off the rails until I discovered pyjama punishment. Now, at the age of sixteen he goes to bed on school nights at 6.30. I collect him from school at 3.30 as if he was a toddler and as soon as we arrive home I supervise bath time and dress him in his pyjamas ready for bed. My neighbour Miss Fulbright makes his pyjamas especially for him. She uses babyish patterned brushed cotton material for his pyjamas that he absolutely hates wearing. Two months into his pyjama punishment I still put him across my knee every night for a spanking to remind him that aunty is in charge. Once he is safely buttoned into his pyjamas he settles down to his studies until I call him for supper. At 6 o’clock he brushes his teeth and presents himself to me. It is then that I take him across my knee for his bedtime spanking. After his spanking he receives a cuddle from aunty and I take him upstairs to tuck him into bed.

His bedroom is strictly functional. There are no electronic distractions, just a bed and a chair that I sit in to read him a bedtime story. His curtains are made from blackout material and ensure no daylight can penetrate once they are fully drawn. This is particularly helpful during the lighter nights when Simon is reluctant to go to sleep. I use a nightlight to read to him but once this is turned off his bedroom is in total darkness, just right to induce a healthy nights sleep.

On Friday night I follow the same early routine with Simon, he is bathed, dressed in his pyjamas but his bedtime is 7 o’clock. The only proviso is that Simon must spend that extra half hour sitting on my lap for extra bedtime cuddles. Problems usually occur on Saturdays when I like him to be ready for bed by 3pm aiming for a 5 o’clock bedtime. Miss Fulbright and her sister come for afternoon tea and I like them to see Simon dressed in the babyish pyjamas she has kindly made for him. For some reason Simon resists my attempts to get him ready for beddy-byes and always ends up in tears across my knee. Am I being too harsh on him on Saturdays? I would dearly appreciate some advice from your contributors as to how I can proceed with Simon’s pyjamas punishment.

Yours truly

Beatrice Halewood.

Ready for bed at 4.30 on a Saturday afternoon after displeasing my aunt.