Saturday, 10 November 2012

Another letter from Pyjama Punishment Monthly

Due to my mothers financial constraints I have been forced to attend a university about twenty miles from my hometown. To further save on costs I have to lodge with my mother’s longstanding friend Miss Hardacre. This was all bad enough, but upon my arrival I was informed by Miss Hardacre that because I would be living rent free I must abide strictly to her house rules or find myself homeless and unable to further my education.

All went well at first until just before teatime on my second day. Miss Hardacre announced that she would prefer that from now on pyjamas were to be my mode of dress while taking tea. I was dumfounded and protested vigorously that not only would I not wear pyjamas, but also I did not even own any pyjamas to wear.

Miss Hardacre reminded me of the house rules and insisted that she would provide night attire for me and that I would be wise to do as I was told. She told me to start removing my clothes while she went to fetch something suitable. Of course I ignored her and continued with my tea. Upon her return she had a pair of pink floral winceyette pyjamas draped over her arm.

Calmly, she laid them neatly over the back of a dining chair, grabbed and twisted my right ear lobe until I squealed with pain, sat herself down on the pyjama-laden chair while remaining firmly attached to my ear lobe and hauled me over her lap. Being small and very lightweight for my age I was easily overpowered by aunty who in no no time managed to lower my trousers by an act of dexterity I am yet unable to define and my bottom was subjected to a severe and painful spanking. 

Two minutes later I was sobbing gently as Miss Hardacre finished buttoning me into the pink winceyette pyjamas.

‘I think,’ she said, ‘in future it will be best if you put your pyjamas on as soon as you come in each afternoon, don’t you? Then there will be less chance of tears before bedtime.’

Now I have a strict bedtime of six o’clock. Upon my arrival home from studying I must dash upstairs, pick up the pyjamas that have been laid out on my bed and present myself to Miss Hardacre so she can get me ready for ‘beddy-byes.’ If I only have to attend a morning lecture I find myself dressed in pyjamas and ready for bed sometimes as early as eleven o’clock. She has taken to calling me ‘Baby Lamb’ and insists I refer to her as ‘Aunty’

On Saturdays she escorts me to the local library where her friend Miss Lexicon is the head librarian. Once hidden away in her inner office I have to change into pyjamas and slippers and study while Aunty goes shopping, taking my clothes with her. If Miss Lexicon catches me not studying she will spank me and inform my aunt who repeats the dose when we return home.

Sometimes on the way back we stop at a tea- shop where aunty meets a few of her friends. Invariably she will tell me in front of them all that, “I want you straight into your jim-jams as soon as we get in.” She always raises laughter by brandishing my library pyjamas and informing all and sundry that, “Baby Lamb looks ever so sweet in his pretty pyjamas.”

I thought at least I would gain support from my mother, that if she knew what was occurring she would put a stop to this nonsense. Not a bit.

One Sunday Aunty insisted I answer the door even though I was wearing pink winceyette pyjamas and a pink nylon tabard that I was forced to wear to keep my pyjamas, “neat and tidy.” In my hand was a yellow duster as Sunday was designated my day for helping aunty with household chores.

Mother smiled sweetly at me as she bent forward to kiss my cheek. ‘You look nice dear,’ she said patting my pyjama- clad bottom as she followed me in.

She would not listen to my objections as to my treatment and sided with Miss Hardacre on every point. In fact the two of them became so angry with me that I was dispatched off to bed there and then at ten thirty in the morning! 

A few weeks later, I started to receive parcels from members of my mother’s sewing circle containing pairs of pyjamas that she had asked them to make for me. These new pyjamas were of a style more suited to a young girl, very frilly with Peter Pan collars and decorated with childish patterns.

Aunties insisted I sat down and write a thank you letter to everyone.

‘Dear Aunty, 
Thank you ever so much for the lovely pyjamas you made for me. I was delighted to receive such a thoughtful present, and look forward to wearing them for you when you next visit.’ 

 My aunt and my mother now frequently force me to parade around in a succession of frilly, babyish girls’ pyjamas while my mother and her sewing circle discuss the merits of babyish girls’ pyjamas as an effective means of discipline. If I am lucky, I am allowed to kiss everyone night-night and scuttle off to bed without receiving a spanking for some imagined indiscretion.

If I am unlucky, I will be allowed to “stay up late” and endure an hour of being sat upon various laps and fussed over in a most humiliating way before I would find myself over someone’s lap receiving a spanking before being despatched to bed. The next day however, I was inevitably put to bed at five o’clock because I was “short of sleep!”

This is a repost from July, I didn't realise that the postings appearance was messed up. For some reason the background is wrong and I can't amend it.


 Dear Pyjama Punishment Monthly

I must tell you about my marvellous neighbour Madame Peine who, having spent many years living and working in France, only returned to these shores after being widowed. It is her that I have to thank for recommending the excellent methods that have been so efficient in disciplining my wayward son. Because she lived next door, and her own three daughters were the victims of some stupid jokes and cat-calls from Andrew over the back garden fence, she immediately recognised the problems I was experiencing with him, and suggested that she would be willing to help implement the cure herself.

Since I worked each day, I eagerly accepted her offer and was amazed at how quickly her methods took effect, as I witnessed one afternoon.

Even though it was not quite 3.30 I could see Andrew being dressed for bed by Madame Peine. His pink gingham romper suit already lay discarded on the floor. I watched as she unfolded his winceyette, baby girl pyjamas. The cream one’s with the sweet little frolicking lambs on and the darling little Peter Pan collar. Madame was having great success in fashioning a whole new baby girl wardrobe for Lambikins, his new sissy name.

Andrew had thrown a little tantrum at being dressed for bed so early in such babyish girls' pyjamas and I was amused at how quickly his demeanour had become that of a small child rather than his true age. Madame quickly stopped his nonsense by the award of one spanking ticket, her simple but effective way of maintaining discipline. Soon he was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching a 'Bananas in Pyjamas' video sucking obediently on his dummy.  

"Hello Lambikins, Mummy’s home." Startled at my sudden appearance he jumped to his feet, the loose-fitting pyjamas hanging baggily upon him. His dummy fell from his mouth and swung loosely from the ribbon pinned to his pyjama jacket.

"G-Good afternoon Mummy," he stuttered. I bent down toward him proffering my cheek as he reluctantly kissed me, unwilling to forgo the attraction of the Bananas video.

You may wonder why an older boy like Andrew was avidly watching a toddlers' TV programme, well it is all down to the admirable Madame Peine. She has painstakingly compiled five question on each episode of  Bananas in Pyjamas, and each incorrect answer earns Andrew a spanking ticket, five tickets earns an over the knee spanking, usually administered for maximum humiliation in front of Madame’s ‘crème de la crème’ from her lady friends, who have been especially selected to witness and enhance Andrew's humiliation at being subject to babying and pyjama punishment. "One spanking ticket for not waving goodbye, that makes four today, Lambikins," Madame informed him with some relish. "Was Lambikins watching close enough I wonder?" Andrew sat on the floor; hands clasped together and back ramrod straight as Madame consulted her list of questions.I sat Andrew on my lap, and admired the needlecraft of Madame Peine.

"Madame, Lambikins looks so sweet in these baby girl pyjamas I want him to wear them at his special tea party. Is everything ready?" I asked.

I had an extremely nervous Andrew on my lap. "Tea party, what tea party?" he asked, squirming in my arms anxiously.

I held him tightly as I told him about the invitations I had delivered to his friends; I showed him an invite; on it was a picture of a sweet little girl dressed in a swishy pink party dress holding a balloon, and she was saying:

Master Andrew Fairchild requests the presence of …… at four thirty for jelly and ice cream, followed by a concert of Baby Bunting, and other nursery songs. Little Master Fairchild will then be escorted to beddy-byes at six o’clock prompt.

His face turned pale. "What’s the matter?" I teased in baby talk, "Doesn’t my lickle Lambikins want to see his fwends, and sing Baby, Baby Bunting for them? There are some nice girls coming, Lambikins."      Actual tears filled his eyes at the thought of singing his little song dressed in his baby girl jim-jams. "If you don’t want them to come I suppose you could ring and tell them that you will be too busy being my little Lambikins to see them."

Andrew seized the opportunity and I listened with satisfaction as he effectively excommunicated his friends.

"It was just a joke by my Mother there is no party. No, I go to bed when I like. Sorry I won’t have time to see you for a while. No don’t ring or come round."

This was the gist of his frantic calls. Such was his relief at avoiding such a humiliating experience he almost welcomed the attentions of Madame Peine. Fortunately, he was unaware of what was to follow.” Now then my poppet," said Madame as she hoisted him into her arms, "who is going to eat all this food now that your friends aren’t coming?" The table was full of childish food, jelly, cakes, and of course ice cream. "Will the little lambs want some do you think?"  She pointed to the lambs on his pyjamas as she slipped him into his high chair and lowered the food tray.

"Answer Madame Peine, Lambikins." I prompted.

"Maybe," he replied hesitantly, uncertain of how to reply. "Don’t be a silly Lambikins; the lambs on your baby jammies can’t eat ice cream can they? Never mind sweet one," she laughed as she tied a pink towelling bib around his neck, "I know just the people to help you eat up all your lovely party food." She opened the window and called out, and across came her three little girls from next door, none of whom liked Andrew very much."Oh my, I like your pyjamas Lambikins, what sweet little lambs, my baby cousin has a pair just like them but she’s only three," teased Melanie, "are you going to beddy-byes shortly? I do hope you are going to sing a song for us."

Andrew blushed furiously, and was helpless as I enhanced his embarrassment by pouring juice into a big sippy cup for him to use. The girls giggled at Andrew, and fed him ice cream that became smeared over his face. They messily wiped his chin with his pink bib, while he sat still in helpless embarrassment.

Quickly though they became absorbed in devouring the party food, and left poor Andrew to sit unhappily in his high chair, until Madame Peine wiped his face properly clean and lifted him down from the chair. "Come along girls, time for our baby Lambikins to prepare for beddy-byes."

A mad scramble ensued as the girls rushed to find seats. Meanwhile Andrew had begun to whimper, "Please Mummy, I don’t want to go to bed yet. Please send the girls away.” Now Lambikins, you know very well why you are being punished, so just do as you are told and concentrate on remembering your darling little song. The girls and I are looking forward to it immensely. Now off you go with Madame."

As we waited, the girls excitedly showed me the projects that Madame had set them to enhance Andrew’s new wardrobe. I was overwhelmed as I examined the gorgeous bonnet that was nearly finished, save for the frill to be added. Made from the same pink gingham as his romper suit, I commented how it would protect Andrew from the sun when he began to take his naps in the garden.

The mittens and matching bootees that had been knitted in soft white wool would complement perfectly his long, white flannelette nightie. Once Madame had supplied the lace for the bodice, we could enjoy a truly babified and petticoated Lambikins, snugly dressed for beddy-byes. 

Face washed, and teeth cleaned, Andrew appeared in front of us clutching his teddy bear. Madame Peine now asked him to recite his little nursery rhyme for the girls:

"Baby, baby bunting,

Daddy's gone a-hunting,

To get a little rabbit skin

To wrap our baby bunting in....." Just as Madame had taught him, the last line was his cue to give a little curtsey. The girls broke into spontaneous applause and laughter, urging us to order an encore. Andrew’s face was beetroot red with embarrassment, and I was sorely tempted to comply, but Madame was already beckoning Andrew toward her. "Well done Sugarplum," she praised, "but next time I want to see more enthusiasm at the final flourish."
Madame lowered his pyjama bottoms once again and settled him on her lap. Displaying her years of experience, she expertly powdered his bottom and pinned him snugly into his fluffy, white night time nappies.

"There, all ready for night-night aren’t we, tuppence." She gave him a babyish wet kiss on his cheek, and then lay him face down across her knees. "Did Lambikins think Madame Peine had forgotten baby’s punishment?" she asked the hapless Andrew, as she gave him a few smacks on his heavily nappied bottom.

The girls were spellbound at witnessing Andrews’s spanking. He cried out for Madame to stop, not because she had hurt him, but because of his utter humiliation. He felt faint, and at last he was beginning to learn his lesson.

Madame Peine effortlessly lifted Andrew into her arms. Her large frame easily allowed her to balance my diminutive son in the classic, carried-to-bed position. One arm supported his weight while the other, firmly clasped around his torso, kept him securely snuggled to her as his arm curled instinctively around her shoulders, the other hugging his beloved teddy bear. His dummy was inserted, and the girls oohed and ahhed at baby’s predicament. "Say goodnight to Sleepyhead girls, it’s after six o’clock now, far to late for tired babies to be up."

They each bade poor Andrew goodnight as if he was a sweet little baby girl being put to bed, instead of a much older male.

"Come back tomorrow afternoon girls, and I will show you how I bath our little Lambikins." Andrew’s eyes widened in horror as he heard Madame’s words but the only reaction he could muster was to suck his dummy louder and faster.

Madame smiled as she carried the hapless pyjama-clad Andrew off to beddy byes, and I could only reflect on how lucky he and I both were to have such an expert practitioner of petticoat and bedtime discipline.

Please continue to demonstrate to other desperate mothers, wives, and aunts, how your petticoating and babying methods can result in such a brilliant success as Madame has achieved with Andrew.
Thank you very much,

Agnes Jacobson

Thursday, 8 November 2012

This is a story of Janice's I kept and have just re-discovered. I hope she doesn't mind me posting it here. You know where to find me if you wish to Janice.


The Colletta household was never quite the same when Catherine Jessica arrived. Her father remarried and she was forced to move in to the large house with her new mother and her young daughter, Anna Marie. Catherine was a loner and being with her dad, she was pretty much free to do as she pleased. She did not like the rigidity of the household rules and the atmosphere, but her father was in love. It wasn't too soon after that Edward lost his job but found a three-year contract with an overseas firm and had to leave almost immediately. Catherine begged him to let her go, but he would not have it. She was doomed to spend her time with the Coletta's and that was not to her liking.  She had just finished school and her stepmother was pushing her to get a job and go to college. Catherine wanted neither. She just wanted to be left alone to do as she pleased and enjoy life with her frivolous friends. She was annoyed with her immediate situation.
 Anna Marie was a pest to Catherine. She found her teenaged ways and life so shallow and dumb. They never got along with each other and her friends disliked Catherine a great deal for one reason or another. They would pass each other in the house and Catherine would give her a disgusted look or make a snide comment about her appearance or worse yet, embarrass her in front of her friends. Anna Marie rarely attacked back, but rather acted far more mature and usually commented on Catherine's "condition" that prevented her from playing nice all the other children. This brought laughter from her friends, who thought that she was very, very cool.
Catherine did have the financial support from her father to have many nice clothes and things, and her stepmother took notice of her careless spending habits, especially when it came to her hair. The money was spent before she even received it. She was not aware of an agreement and understanding that her father and stepmother made before he left. It was done to fill the gap in her life with daddy gone for such a long time. The winds of change were whispering through the trees….

Catherine was overjoyed with her graduation from high school. It was time to spread her wings and fly away, maybe even join her dad. She was spending large sums of money on her hair every month and clothes. She spent and spent and spent. On this day she was in a very typical bitch mode and was singing as she made her way down the hallway. In her boisterous outer celebration, she came upon her stepsister Anna Marie in the bathroom, combing out her rich, dark black hair. Catherine snickered.

"Don't forget to clean up all that rat's nest in the sink when you’re done OK? It’s not nice to leave your hair there for all to see. Why someone might think your going bald dear! …."

Anna Marie turned to look and smiled. "Gee Catherine, I thought that was your leg hair. Why don't find yourself some nice pills and swallow the entire bottle."
Catherine turned away laughing and mimicked her stepsister. She was not going to let her ruin her day either! …
Anna Marie was a very nice girl, but bitchy when she didn't get her own way and knew how to get what she wanted. She was always in control of herself. Her mother favoured her and she knew it. This resulted in favours, long nights out, credit card privileges and even a home computer in her room. Catherine was no threat to her. Suddenly her mother called. She was calling for Catherine.

"Catherine where are you? The dishes need to get done. Get in this kitchen this instant!"

Catherine slowly made her way to the kitchen. It was mid-morning and she was sloppily dressed for the day. She was attired in old jeans, an old torn sweatshirt and clogs. Her hair that she loved so much was the only thing combed out and looking beautiful and that makeup was very much overdone.  Marjorie shook her head in utter disgust and spoke to her stepdaughter like a child.

"Catherine, I'll bet you think now that you are a graduate and the oldest in the house, you can do as you please, don't you? I have been very good to you and given you anything you want within reason that is. It's time I set the record straight. You are not presentable for the day young lady. You are a slob.  After dishes, you are to march yourself upstairs and wear more cleaner attire, am I understood?"

"Yes mother of course I will change."

Catherine sneered back at her stepmother. It was nice to be impolite she thought. After all, she wanted to live here in the first place. Marjorie sensed Catherine's antagonism with her, making a mental note to discuss this matter with her later and preceded to the market to purchase the day's food. Catherine proceeded with dishes and went back upstairs where Anna Marie was putting on her makeup and singing to herself in her bedroom. It wasn't long before more words were exchanged and Anna Marie left out the house. Catherine laughed herself into frenzy as she had thought she had finally got the better of her stepsister. She lounged around watching television until Marjorie arrived home several hours later. Still in her sloppy attire, she seemed to forget her stepmother's insistence on being properly attired for the day. Catherine looked terrible. Marjorie set the bags of groceries down and approached Catherine. She did not like what she saw….

"Catherine we need to talk. I just spoke to Sally down the street and it seems that you have been teasing and harassing her fifteen year old daughter, Denise about her looks. She said you have used very vulgar language and had the girl crying. I think it's time we set the record straight."

Catherine remembered that day very well. Only she was with her stepsister, it was Anna Marie doing the teasing, not her. She looked into her step-mom's eyes and neither confirmed or denied the fact. She looked as if she didn't even care. What did all this mean anyway?

"Catherine, you are no longer a silly schoolgirl and you have not looked for a job, nor have you applied to any college. You are sloppy and spend money without concern for value. Your attitude towards others is appalling. Let me explain a few things so you understand where this all leading my girl! Before your father left, he gave me complete control over you and that means that you are in my house under my rules and you will obey them to the letter. You have been surly, unruly, sloppy and sarcastic to name just a few of your traits. I will no longer allow you to behave in that manner. From this point on things are going to change and we will start with a lesson on your behind to remind you what happens to bad girls in this house.

"What? Spank me? Are you joking? You can't touch me, no way mommy dearest! I am out of here shortly. I am going to joining daddy overseas. I…"

Marjorie pulled Catherine from the couch and quickly unsnapped her jeans and pulled them down to her knees. She was wearing a thong. Marjorie despised that type of underwear and pulled them down too. Catherine was taken over her lap and Marjorie began to slap her lower thighs with her strong hand. Catherine was fighting to get up and reached behind with her hand and tried to cover herself. This only resulted in her arm being tucked up in her back to prevent any interference. For the first time in her life she was about to get a spanking that she deserved. She squirmed and screamed at her stepmother. There was no way she was going to cooperate with such a childish punishment….

Marjorie continued her paddling of her stepdaughter alternating each cheek and then each thigh. She made a note to retrieve her long handled hairbrush and continue again. She did have an eighteen-inch wooden ruler nearby and continued with over fifty hard smacks to her soft bottom, chiding her with each smack and telling her what a naughty girl she was. At first, Catherine was sarcastic and resistive, but soon, tears and pleas followed much to Marjorie's delight. After the spanking, Marjorie allowed her to just lie across her lap and decided this was a good time to start with some simple house rules.

"Now Catherine, that's just the beginning my dear. After I allow you up, you will go and stand in the corner for one full hour. No slouching, legs straight, eyes forward and nose touching the wall. Hands will be placed on top of your head. I will be here in this room watching you, so don't think you can get away with anything naughty.

During your time in the corner I want you to think about just how nasty you been around this house and that your behaviour will definitely change. Do you understand me? …."

The sobbing and crying from Catherine indicated that she did and Marjorie was pleased. She had no place to go.

"Starting next month, I will be receiving your financial allowance from your dad and I will use it as I see fit for your benefit. You will no longer be allowed to spend money as freely as you have."

Catherine was devastated. She would die now. Without money what would she do? She needed her friends and what about her lovely hair? There had to be some other way, there had to be! ….

Once up, Catherine marched over to the corner, but not before Marjorie pulled up her torn shirt and wasn't surprised that she didn't wear a bra. She took the clothes and threw them in a pile. It was time to go through her room. She positioned Catherine in the corner and sat down to watch her and read some correspondence. It was torture to be treated this way and Catherine was slouching a little and making noises and moving a bit.

Marjorie noticed and occasionally swatted her with the ruler reminding her how to stand and talking to her like a child. The hour seemed to last forever and then Marjorie got up and left the room with the pile of sloppy and dirty clothes. Minutes later she returned with some clothing and ordered Catherine to turn around. She held up the new pyjamas before her and Catherine's eyes bulged. It was barely eleven o'clock in the morning,

"You look surprised dear! Yes pyjamas, you will wear pyjamas today. All of your clothes are just so horrible. These are special pyjamas. They are double insulated cotton and should fit you just like those designer jeans you wear. You know, that tight to the butt feeling now sit down! …"

Catherine did so and the jammie pants were pulled up to her knees. The colour was white with red stripes and they looked rather childish. The top was put on and these were buttoned from behind which was unusual. Then her pyjama bottoms were pulled up. They were very tight for pyjamas, showing her curves quite well. In fact, they were too tight! She felt and looked ridiculous.

"You will wear your pyjamas today as a reminder to behave and will greet anyone who comes over in your pyjamas as well. We will clean your room and sort your clothes when we return from our little walk. Let's go, you have an apology to make!"

Catherine was taken back and began to question her stepmother, but decided she had better not, for she already felt foolish and ridiculous. She was given a pair of white ballet slippers to wear and outside they went and down the street. Catherine felt ridiculous not only wearing pyjamas but in the daytime and in the street with everyone staring at her? She was laughed at and made fun of by the local children and soon they came upon Ann Marie and several of her friends. They made fun of Catherine and enjoyed her predicament. The public humiliation was too much for the nineteen-year-old young adult. The laughing could be heard from the other end of the street and shouts of "bad girl" and "pyjama girl" could also be heard….

They soon arrived at Sally's house and her mother greeted the pair and invited them in. Catherine was made to apologize for her behaviour (which was actually Anna Marie's behaviour) and despite Sally's grinning all the while, she finished it. Marjorie wasn't satisfied though and offered Sally's mother the hairbrush to spank her over pyjamas as her bottom was already plenty sore. She took Catherine over her lap and began the assault. A full five minutes of hairbrush spanking, yelping, pleading and crying brought claps of happiness from fifteen-year-old Sally. She was very pleased at the outcome.

Standing up, Marjorie thanked her hosts and took Catherine by the hand back home after announcing that it was time to clean up her room. They walked back home to the tune of more ridicule from children and laughter from the many adults they passed. The sight of an older girl wearing pyjamas in public was ridiculous and entertaining. And they were very, very tight! Catherine was not all comfortable in this attire. They were not loose fitting like pyjamas are supposed to be.

Back at home, Catherine was marched to her room and cleaned it up and Marjorie took note of her clothing. It was time to make a needed change. The bed was properly set and her makeup put away and then confiscated. Catherine was surprised at this.
"You will not be needing makeup Catherine! Little girls do not need cosmetics. Mommy will take that."

Annoyed at her stepmother, Catherine was getting very angry and that was so noted. Marjorie was satisfied that the room was spotless and took Catherine by the arm.

"Let's go downstairs dear. I have a lot for you to do this afternoon. But first let's have some lunch."

They walked downstairs and Catherine was put to work putting away dishes and washing the dirty ones whilst her stepmother prepared lunch. She was ordered to sit down and a steaming bowl of oatmeal was placed before her without fruit or milk. She hated oatmeal. She ate it reluctantly as her stepmother watched with a grin and then had to finish the rest of the dishes. There was a lot more chores to do. Laundry, vacuuming, cleaning the upholstery, tidying up, dusting, the list never ended and she was tired. Finally at about three o'clock Marjorie told her to prepare a nice hot bubble bath and go soak for a while. Tired as she was, Catherine did so, thinking that her stepmother was being kind. Soon after, Ann Marie and a group of friends came in and watched TV in the living room, but Catherine didn't care, she was going for a nice long soak.
Moments after she lie back to enjoy the warmth of the bubbling water, the bathroom door opened and in walked her stepmother.  She was shocked.

"Excuse me! I'm taking a bath here mother. So if you don't mind…"

"Oh I don't mind dear daughter. I am going to help wash you, and you had better mind yourself or I'll spank you bare ass naked in front of your sister and her friends. I can't have you lounging all day in here! …"

Catherine continued her barrage of complaints which made Marjorie very angry and she unwrapped a bar of Strawberry scented glycerine soap and with one quick movement shoved it deeply into Catherine's pouty mouth.

"Here Catherine, suck on that for a while. It's strawberry flavoured so you just might enjoy it. Now mommy is going to wash you so stand up and put your arms in the air."
Catherine did as she was told and she was lathered form head to toe and annoyed as she was touched everywhere by her annoying stepmother. She resented being touched on her breasts and her pubic area and winced and tried to pull away and only received a good slap to the buttocks in return. She was rinsed and dried off and the glycerine bar was removed from her mouth and she was allowed to thoroughly rinse her mouth of the soapy taste. Then she was told to go to her room and wait there by the window.
Catherine stood and shrugged her shoulders in disgust. She just couldn't stand being treated like a child anymore. If only her dad were here. Marjorie placed a bundle of light clothing on the bed and spun her stepdaughter around.

"It's time to get you dressed and then there's some work to do in the kitchen."

She held up the top and Catherine almost cried. It was pyjamas again! But this time they had pictures of the Power Puff Girls on them in lurid pink! They were horrid. She put on the top and Marjorie sat her down and helped with the bottoms. These were very special jimjams. They were made of cotton and were very opaque, but were not loose fitting like regular pyjamas. They fit snug to her body, just like dancewear or cotton tights would and the top had snaps that fastened to the bottoms. They even had sewn in feet with padded bottoms.  The wrists had snaps too and Catherine not noticing them just looked herself over and stewed.

"Oh mother, oh no! You can't make me wear these ridiculous things. They are so tight and childish. I feel so terrible and small in them, oh please let me change, oh mother, please! Oh please!"

Marjorie just smiled back and patted her on her tight rear end.

"You will wear these pyjamas as a reminder to behave and to act properly young lady. Now you will go downstairs and do your chores before beddy byes. So March!"

As they walked into the living room, there sat Ann Marie and three of her friends. Catherine's knees felt like jelly and she turned to run and hide but was stopped by her stepmother. She was jeered and laughed at by the younger girls for wearing pyjamas and skin-tight ones that made them laugh even more. The comments were devastating to her. She was ordered to get them refreshments and act like a little lady, unless she wanted her bottom bared for a good spanking in front of them. With tears in her eyes and gulping hard, Catherine served refreshments, despite the jeering and taunting of the girls. She was embarrassed and ashamed at this public display of deliberate humiliation. She spent the next hour in the kitchen doing prep work and cleanup and was becoming very tired. The clock struck 5:00 P.M. when Catherine was just about finished with her work. Marjorie sensed her tiredness and took her hand.

"It's bedtime dear! No dinner for you, just a nice glass of warm milk. Let's say goodnight to your sister and her friends and it's off to lullaby land for you. You have been too naughty to be allowed up this evening."

Catherine was resistant, but forced to march and say goodnight to a bunch of delighted schoolgirls who loved the idea of a bad girl being forced to go to bed early as a punishment for misbehaviour.

"Catherine, your sister and I discussed a few matters concerning your behaviour and I have decided that for the next thirty days you are grounded. That means you will wear only pyjamas during the daytime hours and you will receive changes at bedtime. You will be bathed and ready in your clean jammies by 3:00 and in bed by 5:00 each and every day. You will be given chores and that includes any your sister gives you as well. You will be spanked each day and how and when will depend on you. If you disobey even for the slightest reason during that time, I will add on another thirty days and so on. Do you understand? Hopefully you will be compliant and your punishment will end in thirty days. If not, well my dear, you will get used to spankings, very early bedtimes and pyjamas for a very, very long time."

Ann Marie looked at her sister with a big smirk. She was going to make sure that she would never make it through her first thirty days without an incident. She threw Catherine a kiss and laughed as Marjorie took her by the ear and up the stairs she went and into bed. Marjorie covered her up and tucked her in, kissing her goodnight. Catherine was being reduced to the status of a child, and although she resented it, she had no choice and decided to be on her best behaviour.

Monday, 5 November 2012

Another collection from the archives of Pyjama Punishment Monthly

I'm nearly 20 and have (much) earlier bedtimes than my two younger half-sisters (13 and 11). My mother prefers the girls and likes to stay in peace and chat with them in the evening. That's why she send me to bed at 6 pm on weekdays, at 8 pm on Saturday because my sisters usually dine (and sometimes also sleep) by friends, and at 4 pm (or earlier) on Sunday afternoon. I've the same bedtimes during holydays. My younger sisters not only have to go to bed later than me, but the most often that's they who make me ready for bed. They sometimes baby-sit me. I'm also put to bed daytime as a punishment, because mom or sisters have guests, because mom goes out, or even because of bad weather which forces us to stay indoor. I'm curious to know if other big boys or girls are in the same situation.

I saw your posting on Google so here I am. I have lots of questions but I will start with a few. It looks like you added some questions to the poll, is this correct? I would like to know more about what you wear to bed and how you are put to bed for a start.
Can you describe your nightclothes in detail? In the last question you mention wearing a nightie, can you tell me more about styles and materials? Are you involved in buying them and do you have any choice in what you wear? Also do you wear different nighties if you are being punished or sent to bed for your sister's convenience? Do you normally wear anything else to bed like a nightcap, earplugs or a sleep mask? How do you feel wearing nighties, are they comfortable, embarrassing, exciting or?

When you are in bed are you allowed to read or listen to music and can you get up to go to the bathroom or is your door locked? Do you have a baby monitor in your room? What sort of sheets and covers are on your bed and are there any other restrictions on you. Does your mother use medication to make you sleep?
When you are prepared for bed do you undress yourself or does another undress you? Is this different for a punishment? When do you normally change into your nightie? Also what are the arrangements for bathing, both normally and for a punishment?
When your sisters baby-sit you do they treat you more strictly (earlier bedtime or immediate bed time) or the same. Does anybody else baby-sit you if your mother and sisters are away?

"How you are put to bed for a start?"
I've ever been put to bed early by mom. At the birth of Edith, my first half-sister, I was 6 y.o. My bedtime was already set at 6:00 pm. My sister did sleep in my room at the same time. Two years later, when Sarah, my other sister came, that continues so: bedtime at 6 for the three of us, in the same bedroom. When Edith was 7 (and I was 13-14), she slept in her own bedroom and her bedtime was later because she had dance lessons and mom takes care of her. My bedtime and the one of Sarah did stay at 6 for a while, until Sarah starts also to dance and to play piano. Both the girls had then the same room (my former one, I had to move in a smaller one), and a later bedtime than mine that did stay at 6:00 pm. Since such an early bedtime suits mom (who doesn't like I'd go out in the evening and thinks I'm less mature and reliable than the girls) and my sisters (who can stay in peace after dinner with mom, play together, chat, watch TV programs they prefer€¦), I've still to be ready to sleep for the night at 6:00. As when I was younger, I've then to make me ready for bed at 5:15 and to dine in nightie at 5:30 to be in bed on time, while the younger girls are still fully clothed.
I've then such early bedtimes since I was a little baby, and mom said I'm today a big baby and I'll have to get into bed as soon as she wants, as long as I'll live with her and my younger sisters. The girl’s bedtime is at 9:00 or 9:30 on weekdays and 11:00 or even midnight on holidays.
My mother was always stricter about me than about my younger sis. When we fought (and still we fight) or when one of my sisters accuse me rightly or unfairly, that's every time me who's punished, put straight to bed for the rest of the day, had (and has) earlier bedtime on weekdays and whole day in bed during weekends and holidays. And that's often so. Besides, sometimes mom spanks me bare bottom (with only my nightie on) in front of my younger sisters (and even some of their young mates) before a corner time and a more or less long time bed confinement.
Mom always put me to bed earlier every time she or my sisters have guests. I've to sleep before they come and in this case mom usually uses medication (syrup or suppositories). I've off course to stay in bed since next morning even when the guests leave early.
When mom goes out, I've to be in bed before she leaves. When she's absent only for a short while, that's rather my sisters who put me to bed and baby-sit me. For a longer length, my babysitter is usually a neighbour (a girl younger than me, without a risk for her because I'm anyway in bed and locked up with baby phone on) or Catherine, a classmate who is also my girlfriend.
Once in bed, at any time, I'm not allowed to read nor listen music or radio, except sometimes when I'm in bed before 3:30 pm (I've next to take a snack then to sleep) because of bad weather outdoors (and for not hampering mom and sisters at home). That's usually Edith and/or Sarah who do me ready to sleep. They close my shutters and curtains, tuck me in, switch my baby monitor which has also a walkie-talkie function), kiss me nite-nite, order me to obey and to sleep immediately, switch my light off, then lock me up.
Punished or not, I'm not allowed to get up once put to bed. Moreover I’m not able to leave my bedroom since I'm shut away nor allowed to get dressed again since I had to leave all my clothes and shoes in the wardrobe before getting into bed. I'd be punished if I forget this. I've a potty in my bedroom and if I need to use it during the daytime, I can call mom, sisters or babysitter by the baby monitor. One of them eventually goes upstairs to let me go to the toilet before to put me again to bed.
"Can you describe your nightclothes in detail?"
I never wear pyjama nor panties, only female or girl nighties with nothing under. They are different depending the season. In summer, they are short and fine, light coloured (pink, blue pastel, white, yellow), most of them without sleeves, often with floral or childish motives. In autumn and winter, they are longer and larger, are in cotton and have sleeves. Some of them were the former ones of mom. Others are gifts from mommy, from my girlfriend and babysitter Catherine (2 years a half younger than me even if in the same class), and even from other classmates.
The one I prefer comes from Catherine’s mother. Its colour is salmon; it's long, almost transparent, with black thin straps. I received its for my 19th anniversary. I had to accompany Catherine, her mother and her younger sister Christine in the lingerie boutique of a friend of Catherine’s mom and mine. I had to undress fully for fitting some baby dolls and nighties. The owner was amused seeing me walking so barefoot and naked under nighties through her shop in front of other amazed female customers. She gives me a well-matched nightcap! During the whole fitting, I was very, very embarrassed but I'd in the same time to refrain my trouble and my excitation. I was happily soon token back home and put straight to bed in the early afternoon by Catherine, after the boutiques owner and her customers wished me an "happy birthday" and a "good night".
I normally wear a fresh nightgown once a week, when I've to get into bed at my usual Sunday bedtime, at the latest in the middle of the afternoon.
I've not other nightclothes when bed punished, but I put my current nightie on when I've to be spanked bare bottom and to have a corner time downstairs in the living room.
Mom wants I have my nightcap on when I've to stay in bed all day as a punishment or by bad weather, especially during winter weekends and Xmas holidays. On cold days, I've then to spend most of the time in bed and, rather than to get up barefoot to go to brush my teeth and occasionally go to the toilet or bring back downstairs my tray after a meal in bed, mommy lends me slippers of her. They are pink with a pompom and have heels.
I feel absolutely comfortable with a nightie on in bed, but at once embarrassed and excited to be seen by everyone, as a near 20 years old boy so undressed, already in bed or ready to go to sleep, at any time in the day, when all the others, even very much younger kids, are still up and fully dressed for hours. Usually, however, I'm already tucked in bed and asleep light off when guests come home, and like this I don't see them when they come by curiosity to glance at me being without a doubt the only for miles around lying so early, daytime, between his sheets, without to be ill nor actually a When confined to bed as a punishment, I've all the time shutters and curtains tightly closed. My bedside lamp has also to stay off constantly, except for eating baby's cereal and to drink sleepy tea or milk from a baby's bottle in bed. That's also sometimes Edith or more often youngest Sarah who spoon-feeds me in bed before her own meal downstairs with the others.
With the baby monitor, mom and my sisters may hear the slightest movement I could make in my bedroom. I'm then not allowed at all to get up for bathing nor for eating. I've a potty near my bed. I can only leave my room after breakfast, lunch and tea time (all eaten in bed, off course) to empty and to rinse out the potty, to go to the toilet and to brush my teeth. I occasionally have myself to bring back downstairs my bowl and my baby's bottle. On the other hand, when I've been punished following a misbehaving towards one of my younger sisters, before having to sleep before 4:00 pm and without dinner, I'm obliged to go downstairs wearing only my nightie and my night cap, then to say her sorry kneeling, in front of mom, my other sis and sometimes also friends of mommy and mates of the girls. After that, they put me back to bed and I've to sleep immediately since next morning.
Even if not as a punishment, when I've been put to bed already in the morning or in the early afternoon for any other reason, I've every time to sleep right after tea time, between 3:30 and 4:00 pm. I'm also locked up and have to eat in bed with a bib tied round my neck. The only change in this case is that I'm the most often (but not always, depending the mood of mom) allowed to keep shutters and curtains open, to read books or comics and to listen radio in bed until snack at tea time. Sometimes, one brings me the same meal as the ones who eat downstairs, instead baby's cereal or puree. I've all the same to drink sleepy milk with a baby's bottle, but never a coffee since I've to sleep earlier and because a stain of coffee on a nightie or on bedclothes is really a serious thing.

Very interesting, can you answer a few details? Are your light nighties made of nylon or polyester, since you mention your winter nighties are cotton? Also can you describe your nightcaps? When you are in bed with the monitor on are you punished if you make noise? Also when your girlfriend Catherine is babysitting is the routine and treatment different from when your sisters babysat? Also can you tell me more about when you have a babysitter? You mentioned that your girlfriend Catherine sometimes puts you to bed when your mom and sister are out. Does she do anything differently, more or less strict, earlier or later to bed? How often are you fed baby type foods instead of regular food? Thanks

I am the mother of a poorly behaved 20-year-old young man. I use a nanny cam to make sure he doesn't get out of bed without permission during his bedtime punishments. He has learned my strap can make him wish he did as he was told.

Early bedtimes were very popular with my mother when I was younger. Most night’s bedtime would be 6-30pm. I would usually arrive home from school about 4-30pm and my mother would bath me and put me in my pyjamas before tea that was usually 5pm. After tea I could watch TV until about 6pm when I would have to go upstairs and get into bed where I could read until about 6-30pm when mother would come and put me down to sleep. Mother used to dress me in very childish 'ski' pyjamas that were the same style as my baby brother. My baby brother would always be put to bed after me at I think about 9pm. Quite often my friends would come to the house to see if I was playing out after tea and mother would tell them no as I was in my pyjamas and ready for bed. Most weekends and holidays I was kept in my pyjamas all day. In the summer I was allowed out to play in the garden but I still had to wear my pyjamas. I was usually brought in and bathed about 4pm and changed into clean pyjamas and ready for bed. Sometimes I was put to bed as early as 4pm on holidays and weekends, early bedtimes continued up till I was a teenager

You say "a teenager". 13? 19?

I think I was about 14 when I was allowed to have a later bedtime.

And what time were you allowed to stay up until then?

I think it was about 8pm, but mother still expected me bathed and in my pyjamas by 7pm.

Please tell us what happened later. When did your mummy stop making you go to bed early? Or does it still happen? After the 8 o'clock bedtime at 14 what was the next stage?

Mummy extended my bedtime to 8-30pm. But if I were naughty I would be put to bed at 7pm and made to wear a footed sleeper which mummy had bought me which was identical to my baby brother.

And do you still have to go to bed at 8.30?

My bedtime is now 9 o'clock. Well, actually, my bath time is 9 and my bedtime is straightaway afterwards so it's about half past by the time Mummy is tucking me in with my teddy bear. I’d love it to be later but she says that it's plenty late enough for me. So I just have to accept what she decides.

If my son misbehaves and I hear it on his baby monitor, I go into his room, turn him bottoms up over a folded up pillow and take my leather strap to his bare bottom.

It has always been part of my disciplinary philosophy to treat adolescent boys (and young adult males) as if they were at least five years younger than their physical age. Girls, in general, mature much quicker and as such it is correct that the male should go to bed sooner and in some cases their sister or sisters should supervise their bedtime. A 16-year-old boy under my supervision would be looking at a bedtime of between 6 and 7p.m with a pyjama time of 4 or 5 p.m. I always advocate dressing boys in their pyjamas 2 hours before bedtime. If a younger sister or sisters are around to witness this then so much the better. This reinforces the boy's immature status in the sibling hierarchy. That is why I put the boys into childish nightwear. When they have to walk around in front of their younger sisters for 2 hours before bedtime wearing little boy pyjamas they quickly lose their aggressive attitudes and respond to discipline much better. If especially sewn little boy pyjamas are beyond your means then a few pairs of female pyjamas from any high street chain store are an acceptable alternative. A 16 year old wearing a pair of teddy bear patterned pyjamas kissing his younger sisters night-night at 6pm is very rewarding in terms of discipline. The girl or girls can be part of the boy’s bedtime routine, perhaps helping select his pyjamas, buttoning up his pyjama top for him and helping to tuck him into bed. Having your 12 year old sister drawing the bedroom curtains on a sunny summer evening at 6p.m as the 16 y.o is put to bed is a good way to involve younger siblings in his education as a well disciplined male.

Good for you Helen That is exactly how boys should be treated. A good bedtime spanking also helps.

Thank you. Over the years I have endeavoured to ensure that the males who have fallen under my patronage come to appreciate their subservient role in regard to the superior female. I have developed the doctrine of pyjama and early bedtime discipline as an excellent way to achieve this. Naturally during my career I have used maternal, over the knee spankings to reinforce my control. However this is a punishment I tend to use sparingly, not least because being put across a matronly lap for a spanking can be surprisingly stimulating for adolescent males. For maximum effectiveness spankings should be delivered in front of several females, I prefer to spank in the presence of ladies from my own circle who understand and appreciate my efforts. This reserves the ultimate humiliation of spanking males in front of younger females as a trump card so to speak. I always begin a spanking with the recipient pyjama clad and then expose the naughty boys bottom for further punishment if the naughtiness warrants. I trust this clarifies my position on bedtime spankings for naughty boys. Incidentally, it is only very recently that one piece; footed pyjamas have been available in the UK. Mainly they appear to be retailed by a very downmarket chain store. As a disciplinary item of bedtime attire for males I can certainly see their potential, however, the actual quality of the material and overall "cheapness" of these items leave a lot to be desired A cosy pair of babyish pyjamas are currently still much more effective as demeaning and humiliating nightwear than high street fads.