Sounds like aunty has this chap under her control

Thanks to the person who sent me this cover of Pyjama Punishment Monthly. Rather dashing blue striped pyjamas, worth wearing anytime of the day. Also some extracts from Nanny Smackbottoms forum

Even though I attend college my Aunt insists upon me changing into pyjamas and slippers as soon as I arrive home. Sometimes this can be early in the afternoon and if her sewing club meeting is being held I am expected to help serve teas dressed in this humiliating manner. I am only 5 foot tall and my Aunt thinks I need protecting from what she describes as, “ne'er do wells”. For this reason my usual bedtime is still 7pm, unchanged from when I was a boy. I have several pairs of slippers ready to step into at the entrance and my pyjamas are laid out on my bed for me to change into. Aunty always buys me boy’s slippers to wear (size 3) and since she sews most of my pyjamas from juvenile material the lady who delivers our tea (Ringtons, 4.40 Friday) is convinced I am only about ten years old. Since I greet her at the door and receive our weekly supply wearing pyjamas with spacemen or trains on them and wearing Scooby-Do slippers, it is hardly surprising. I am not likely to reveal my true age to her. If I complain Aunty only spanks me, with a slipper of course and brings my bedtime forward an hour for a week. Friday and Saturday I am allowed to stay up until 8.30pm but to earn that privilege I must be in pyjamas and slippers by 3pm.

Why only so late bedtimes offered? I'm near 19 and living since two years with my aunt Helen and my two cousins Mikaël (12) and Betty (9). Younger Betty - as a girl - has her own room but myself I've to sleep in the same room and have the same bedtime as Mikaël: 6:30 PM on weekdays, 10:30 on Friday and Saturday evening and before 4:30 on Sunday afternoon (to be well rested on Monday morning), without exception apart when we are punished. In this case auntie put us even earlier to bed, straight after school on weekdays and even all day lights off during the weekend ;-( We are also sometimes spanked bare bottomed and have corner times in the living room barefoot and with only our nighties on before bed confinement ;-((I know that I'd be enough old for no more having such early bedtime and childish punishments. But I'm the guest of Auntie for the school and I've to respect her rules and obey her. Auntie explained me that it was any reasons that I'd a later bedtime than her son since I had to sleep in his room. Because I was older than Mikaël I was also a "model" for him who would accept easier to have to be the first in bed in the neighbourhood and even earlier than his younger sister. Furthermore the privacy of my aunt would be better protected. Moreover, when she has guests, she usually put us to bed before they came, even on Friday or Saturday. I became acquainted with my girlfriend Bea when she babysat us the first time, a Saturday afternoon that I was in bed as a punishment with Mikaël because of a fight with younger Betty. Bea is used to putting my cousin and me to bed and isn't frustrated by my bedtimes and my punishments. She is commonly our babysitter and when she is babysitting us she always put us very early to bed, even earlier than Auntie would expect. Before we have to sleep so that she could watch TV or get a tan quietly in the garden, Bea read us a story at our bedside. Meanwhile she's usually barefoot and it's really an exciting thing for me seeing her naked feet and her toes from my pillow. I've an erection every time in my sheets and under my nightie. And I stay still exciting a long time after Bea closed our shutters and curtains, gave me a long kiss, told me and my cousin night-night, switched off the light and locked us in our bedroom for the rest of the day ;-)

Pyjama discipline is good for males of any age but especially adolescent boys. Far better that you were safely tucked up in bed wearing slippers and pyjamas than outdoors getting into mischief. Early bedtimes and the occasional spanking will have done you no harm either. It seems to me that your aunt is supporting you by providing a roof over your head, feeding you and no doubt washing and ironing for you. The least you could do is live by her rules. She is correct; a boy of your stature would be prey to bullies if out and about late at night. I think 8pm is a perfectly fair bedtime during schooldays. How ungrateful are you? Your aunt takes the time and trouble to sew you pyjamas and you complain. So what if they make you appear younger than you are, there is plenty of time to be older. Being ready for bed in slippers and pyjamas early on a Saturday is no hardship, lots of people would be grateful for that opportunity. If I were your aunt, your bedtime would be a lot sooner than 10pm, so think yourself lucky.

I agree naughty boys need plenty of pyjama discipline. I suggest that you ask that your baby sitter who obviously takes off her shoes and socks at the door wear gets straight into nice pair of large furry slippers because clearly you are getting very excited by her bare feet and that is very bad and you will require further discipline. I suggest a good hairbrush spanking (slipper too soft) from auntie in front of your friends and then s few weeks of getting straight into pyjamas and slippers straight after school and all day at weekends. Perhaps if you persist being naughty, auntie should arrange for your schoolteachers to bring you home and watch you get ready for bed, and get a spanking. Even post a few photos of you in your striped pyjamas and your little paisley pattern slippers.

That's the trouble. I do have to put my pyjamas and slippers on as soon as I arrive home. On Saturday we were out lunching with her two of aunties friends in town after a shopping trip. Somehow I managed to knock the teapot over. "That's it! I have had enough of your misbehaviour today. You’re going straight into your pyjamas when I get you home ready. After a trip across my knee for a good spanking I will be putting you to bed for the night." This was said in a loud voice so the whole cafe could hear and I felt all eyes turn to stare. "But aunty," I whispered. "I am going to watch the football on TV this afternoon you promised." "Football? You can forget all about watching football. Pyjamas, slippers, spanking then bed in that order." I was in bed by 4pm. I don't get to wear my striped pyjamas often as aunty says they’re for “big boys” but I do have some paisley one's that aunty makes me wear when we go visiting.

 I was wondering when you get slippered, which clearly is what all naughty boys need, does your auntie have a special slipper she uses only on naughty boys, or does she use the ones she is wearing or perhaps she uses yours. In our house it’s a combination of those. Plus we have a rack next to the front door that contains our slippers; they are there ready to be put straight on when we get in. And also handy for immediate use for a spanking if we have been naughty at the shops. There is a special slipper step mum call her spanking slipper for when we were very naughty. She has taken this slipper with us for when we stayed at grannies and often used it on us.

Oh yes, I can relate to that. Until I as 10 we used to visit my grannies for Sunday lunch. My step mom used to take my pyjamas and slippers with us. After lunch granny always made me have a nap. At 1pm I had to change into my pyjamas and nap until 4pm.Then we drove home and would be in my pyjamas and slippers ready for bed when we got home around 6pm.

Quite right too, You Aunt should make you carry your pyjamas yourself along with your slippers when you are visiting. Having a regular pyjama time is as important as a bedtime. I used to make sure Timothy was dressed in his pyjamas two hours before his 6pm weekday bedtime. At weekends it was not unusual for Timothy to spend the entire time clad in his pyjamas and lots nap times too. Perhaps your Aunt should adopt the same regime with you. You seem a most disagreeable young man who needs plenty of spankings and early nights. Again it is entirely appropriate that you were made to change into your pyjamas and slippers if it was your pyjama time. Why the fuss? You knew your stepmother had set you a time to put your pyjamas on and that you had a regular bedtime so in my opinion you were lucky not to have your bottom warmed. I trust your granny tucked you in a proper bed for your nap? I don't approve of naps taken on sofas and suchlike. Pyjamas and a bed are a must for naps in my book.

Yes a proper bed. When I stayed at grannies in the hols it was a nap everyday at 1pm and I learned the hard way not to object. She would lay my pyjamas out around midday and tell me to put the straight on. At first I protested and she would swiftly take off her slippers putdown my pants and soundly spank me, the put my pyjamas and slippers on me and send me to bed until3pm.heni got up I stayed in pyjamas and slippers until my 6pm bedtime.

I don't think I am disagreeable at all. It is not just the fact that I have early bedtimes and have to wear pyjamas; it is the fact that most of the time the pyjamas are extremely childish in appearance. I bet your Timothy did not have to wear pyjamas with space rockets or cowboys on them. It is very embarrassing to be seen wearing such babyish pyjamas.

Judging by your childish, feeling sorry for yourself attitude, I think that style of pyjamas seems to be entirely appropriate. No wonder you are tucked up in bed early. I am sure you know the old saying, act like a child, and you will be treated like a child.

Auntie Janice welcomes Paulie back home. This is a story written by Lil Phil that I am delighted to post here.

I had been dreading making the call all week, but I was at the end of my rope. My account at the favorbank was empty and I had to be out of the rooming house by the end of the week. I dialed the number and heard the familiar voice at the other end.

"Hello Aunt Janice. It's Paul."

There was a long silence. I could feel my pulse racing as I tried to remain calm. "Well well well."

I could hear a little bit more of a vindicated smile behind each word and inwardly blanched. Nothing had changed.

"You remember what I told you when you decided you didn't want to visit Auntie anymore, don't you Pauly."

I winced at the nicknames. "Yes, I remember."

"Yes I remember who Pauly?"

"Yes I remember Auntie Janice."

"That's a good boy." The condescending triumph in her voice was inescapable now. After 7 years, I was headed back to Auntie Janice's house under conditions I had vowed never to accept.

There is a big difference between 16 and 23, but not to Aunt Janice. Especially after my 16 year old self had successfully talked my mother into cancelling my annual summer trip to Aunt Janice's house in the country.

"I told you you'd be back, didn't I Pauly dear?"

"Yes Auntie Janice." She took me by the hand and led me up the stairs. I trudged after her.

"I've had 6 years to get your room just the way Auntie wanted it for your return my lamb." She turned the knob and opened the door.

I gasped. I was looking at a child's nursery, with nursery rhyme wall paper and a four poster bed with a gauzy canopy. There were heavy pink curtains at the window and a row of plushy toys lined up on top of a hand-painted dresser.

"You thought you were such a big boy Paulie. Too big to stay with your Auntie Janice. Now look at you, crawling back on your hands and knees like a baby. Why don't you get on your hands and knees right now." She placed her hands on her hips and waited.

I knew it was going to be bad but I wasn't expecting this. But what choice did I have? I wasn't going to sleep on a park bench! I sunk to my knees and placed my hands in front of me. When I looked up, Aunt Janice was looking down expectantly.

"Now ask Auntie to let you stay with her. And look me in the eye when you speak to me little Pauly."

I started to quail. "May I please stay with you Auntie Janice." She held my gaze with a Mona Lisa smile on her gleaming lips.

"May who stay with me?"

"May Pauly stay with you Auntie Janice?"

"Who?"

I look up at her with shock. Now what? But the widening of her smile made it crystal clear.

"May little Paulie stay with Auntie Janice?" I could feel my face flush as I spoke the words.

"Yes little Pauly, you may, provided that you agree to the terms that I described to you 7 years ago. You remember, don't you poppet?"

"Yes Auntie Janice."

"Good." Why don't we get started right now. Remove your clothing, all of it. and give them to me. And I'll take your case as well." She took my small suitcase of clothing. I knew where this was going, and played my final card.

"I have pyjamas in my case Auntie Janice." I looked up hopefully.

"That won't be necessary little Pauly, Aunty has you well covered in that department." Without even bothering to open the case or look at the pyjamas I had spent my last few dollars on, Aunty snapped her manicured fingers and opened her palm. I sighed and began upbuttoning my shirt.

By the time I was down to my briefs I realized that I had an embarrassing erection, which seem to be a result of my sheer nervousness. The fact that Aunt Janice was clearly relishing my discomfort didn't help matters. I tried to cover myself.

"Please Aunt Janice, I . . ."

She cut me off. "You know the rules little Pauly. Stop whining like a baby or you'll be treated accordingly." She snapped her fingers impatiently, her gold bracelet jangling on her wrist.

Hanging my head in shame I tugged down the briefs and handed them over.

"Good boy." I was too embarrassed to look up and I heard Aunt Janice humming as she opened drawers. "Now step into these."

I lifted my feet and felt her drawing underpants up my legs, and pulling them up tightly until the waistband snapped against my stomach. They felt warm and heavy. Looking down I saw a pair of very full cut, very juvenile underpants in pink brushed wincyette cotton, covered in teddy bears!!

"What?!" Before I could get over my shock, Aunt Janice was holding out of pyjama pants made from the same material. As I stepped into them I noted with horror that they had padded feet! Aunt Janice hummed contentedly as she pulled the pyjama pants up high and tight, making the underpants ride up my bumcrack, again she let the elastic waistband snap against me, this time in the middle of my chest!

"They're pulled up too high!" I exclaimed, trying to pick the material out of my bumcrack. Aunt Janice slapped my hand away.

"Stop whining like a little brat. Auntie can see that Her cranky charge is overtired and needs his early beddy-byes." What was she talking about? It was barely 3 pm, although she had taken his wristwatch along with the rest of his clothes.

Before he could respond Aunt Janice pulled the matching pyjama top over his head, The elasticized neck opening got stuck around his head for a moment, plunging him in darkness. He heard amused laughter as Aunt Janice tugged down hard, forcing his head through. The neck opening chafed snugly around his neck as she flounced out a lacey Peter Pan collar. He had to push his hands through the elasticized ends of the sleeves, which were also trimmed in flouncy lace. Then as a further humiliation, Aunt Janice tucked the bottom of the pink wincyette pyjama top deep inside the pants and pulled the pants up even higher, until they were positioned up around his midsection. She stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"There, that's much better. Now little Pauly is all cozy-wozy in his jimjams and ready for sleepybyes." She voice was dripping with treacle and becoming more and more condescending.

"Please Aunt Janice, these pyjamas . . . !" Without warning she clamped her hand firmly over my mouth.

"First of all you are to only address me as Auntie. In fact let's make that Auntiekins as an added reminder. And if you don't like your pretty pink jimjams with the lovely teddy bears, Auntiekins has a very pretty pink flannelette nightgown that you can wear with a matching sleep bonnet. Is that what you'd prefer?" Her hand was still clamped firmly over my mouth, so I had to shake my head meekly from side to side.

"I didn't think so. Now then, you are obviously in need of bedrest, and as you well know, Auntiekins is in charge of bedtime in this house. Now hop into bed like a good bunny and don't you dare utter another word. " She finally realised her hand from my mouth. I sucked in the cool air before resignedly turning to the bed. Aunt Janice pulled down the quilted pink satin comforter and pale pink flannel sheets. I lay down on my back, my head sinking into the soft feather pillow. Auntiekins quickly pulled up the sheets and thick blanket and tucked them under my chin, and then began to aggressively tuck the covers deeply between the mattress and boxspring on both sides and at the bottom until I was pinned tightly. When I thought she was finished she proceeded to start over and tuck me in even more tightly. The combination of the warm pyjamas, flannel sheets and the thick comforter was already making me perspire.

Aunt Janice looked very pleased with herself when she finally looked down at me pinned tightly under the covers of the juvenile bed. She walked over to the dresser and selected a yellow teddybear from the stuffed animals, then proceeded to tuck it under the cover right next to my head, sitting on the side of the bed. She fussed with the itchy Peter Pan collar of the wincyette pyjama, humming as she did so. I felt hot and flushed.

"Now give bear-bear a nice goodnight kiss." I looked at her incredulously. "You heard Auntiekins. And you know the rules of this house little Paulie."

Getting even redder with embarrassment, I turned my head and kissed the plush toy. Aunt Janice smiled smugly and leaned over me, taking my face in her hands.

"I've waited a very long time for this day little Paulie. I knew that the day would come when you would come slinking back to your Auntiekins, tail between your legs, begging to be taken care of. And here you are, all cosy in your jimmy-jams, tucked into beddy-byes where you belong. You need to be taught the lessons that you should have received a long time ago -- how to be an attentive, obedient, polite and good little boy." Aunt Janice stroked my hair with one hand and fussed with my face with the other. I squirmed under her ministrations, but could barely move from the neck down with my arms and hands pinioned under the thick bedcovers.

"You know I'm doing this because it's for your own good and because your Auntiekins loves you, don't you little Pauly darling?" She stroked my face and waited for a reply. All I could do was nod my head. "And you love your Auntiekins, don't you precious?" With a hot face I nodded again.

"Tell Auntiekins." Her fingertips toyed with my hair and ears as she spoke. Embarrassingly I felt my penis stiffen inside my wincyette panties.

Aunt Jancie's eyes were locked on mine, waiting for the response I knew she wanted.

"little Paulie loves you Auntiekins" I heard my voice croak in barely a whisper. With a smile Aunt Janice lowered her face and gave me a long kiss on the lips while I lay frozen and wide-eyed.

"That's my good little lambikins!" She planted a wet kiss on my forehead, and another on the tip of my nose. I wanted to wipe away the saliva but my hands were still imprisoned under the blanket. Smoothing her hands down the shiny pink comforter, I flinched as her hands passed over the bulge in my pyjama bottoms. Has she felt it?!!!

Humming, Aunt Janice got up from the bed and pulled the heavy curtains closed. "Now you go sleepy-byes like a good little poppet, and don't you dare get out of that bed until Auntiekins tells you to. Night night little Pauly!" With that she snapped the light and closed the door, plunging the room into inky blackness. Not a chink of light was visible. I sighed and started to try and work my arms up from out of the tightly tucked covers. What had I gotten myself into?!

My Mommy and Me. This was sent to me by Lance and I am happy to post it here.

My Mommy and Me….

Another rule broken and here I am, in my pajamas stood facing the corner.

It’s so boring, minutes seem more link hours and all I can see is this blurry corner. Standing in silent contemplation, I’m tormented by the laughter of the neighborhood kids still out playing. Life’s going on without me and it’s just not fair.

She’ll be back soon and once again she’ll say.

“Why should any of our neighbors have to listen to a naughty boy being punished”?

And then she’ll close the bedroom windows and to scold me and remind what a naughty boy I’ve been and how she has little choice but to punish me.

 

I’ll most likely hear the wardrobe open as she fetches the strap from the hook behind the door.

Perhaps she let me off with a quick over the knee spanking with her slipper?

Who am I trying to kid?

That look she gave me was one those, get ready for a strapping looks.

Everybody gets caught by the cops eventually. It’s not fair; I have to pay a speeding fine and I have to endure her punishing me as well.

She’s going to make me lay down over the end of the bed, I just know she will.

She’s going to pull down my pajamas and give my poor bottom one of her horrid strappings.

I hate that strap; it really does hurt a whole lot. I’ll sometimes cry and I often can’t help wiggling about so much that I’ll sometimes get out of position and she’ll pursue my strapping just long enough to remind me of her rules.

I don’t mind even the shortest of breaks but if I cause too much fuss, she won’t think twice she’ll take off my pajamas, and as soon as she’s satisfied I’ve been sufficiently strapped she’ll put me in a diaper.

Sometimes my bottom is so sore it can twitch uncontrollably and I can still be crying long after she’s closed the drapes and kissed me goodnight.

In the morning my cascading tears will have dried up but the state of my freshly bruised bottom will be a reminder for me to behave for several days to come.

I’ll be grounded tomorrow and that’ll mean I’ll most likely be put to bed for an afternoon nap.

She knows I really wanted to go to the ball game with my buddies, but even if she does let me go, I’ll probably have trouble sitting anyway.

I’m glad nobody can see me; I know I look silly in these teddy bear pajamas. Facing the corner like this, I must look like a naughty little boy. I certainly feel like one, especially when she baths and diapers me.

God, I hope no one ever discovers how we live. I’m 24 years old and I have to discreetly discourage evening visitors because of my unusually early 8.00 bedtimes. And if I’m being punished it’s even earlier. I can easily find myself ready for bed and in the corner by 5.30 and more often than not, in bed teary eyed by 6.00.   

“Right you naughty little man she called out as she entered the bedroom. You can come out of that corner now please”.

“Tell me, do I need to warm up your bottom, or have you learned your lesson”?

“Please no, I’ve learned. I’ll be good, I promise I will”.

“Alright then, you can get into bed now. But just so you know, you’ll be grounded tomorrow. No ball game, you can start tomorrow morning by cleaning out the garage and if I have the slightest bit of nonsense from you, I’ll wallop your bare bottom good and hard. Now do you understand me”?

“Yes Ma’am I understand”.

“Alright then, I’m sure you know you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime so in you get please dear.

I quickly get into bed and watch as she closes the windows and drapes. I’m soon tucked into bed and looking up into those loving understanding eyes of hers, As she bends down to kiss me goodnight, I know beyond all doubt, I’ve found that very special someone.

I know some people must discreetly question our obvious age difference, occasionally we are mistaken for mother and son and that’s just peachy as far as we are concerned.

In the now slightly darkened bedroom, I’m tormented by the early evening sun. It creeps in and around the edges of the drapes reminding me how early it is.

How I hate early bedtimes, I wish I had the courage to say no, fortunately I don’t.

I know any such defiance and I would be over her lap with my pajamas half way to me knees. My mommy knows how to cure all naughtiness and right all wrongs

The end or is it?          I guess that’s up to you.

My wife is the mother I never had and I’m the son she always wanted. I guess we are the luckiest couple in the whole world.

Lance.

Aunty enjoys herself at my expense.

I had, I admit, been a bit bad tempered that afternoon at aunty's but it was still a shock when aunty insisted I get ready for bed at two thirty. "No but's, I want you in pyjamas immediately, let's see if a nice pair of cosy jimjams will curb that attitude of yours." I protested but a threatened trip over aunt'y lap convinced me to do her bidding. Aunty fetched a pair of my special, large, naughty boy striped pyjamas and watched with satisfaction as I reluctantly undressed and put on the pyjamas. "There now, much better," she said as she fastened the top button on my pyjama jacket and smoothed down the collar. "I really don't know why I don't make you quit your job and move in with me. It would be really useful to have you here to help out during the day. Of course I would have to set you a suitably early bedtime, little boys like you need their sleep. I could then keep you dressed permanently in pyjamas,  you are much more obedient dressed this way, it's something I shall have to seriously consider.
I swallowed hard, envisaging living my life in aunty's house, being forced to wear pyjamas permanently and have an early bedtime, what did she mean by early anyway, eight o'clock, seven o'clock, or even earlier?

"Ha-ha, yes well, that's not going to happen is it?" I attempted to laugh her statement off. "We'll see," she said,"now get started on those dirty dishes than you can vacuum and dust downstairs."
"Aunty I can't do chores wearing these pyjamas, I can hardly keep them up." Since I had put on the pyjamas I had been clutching at the waist to prevent the bottoms from comically falling down and the sleeves of the pyjama jacket were far too long and enveloped my hands.

"Nonsense," she exclaimed, hoisting the waist of my pyjamas bottoms high up onto my chest and tying the pyjama cord tight. "There you'll manage now, on with your rubber gloves and get started."

With that she swatted my backside and propelled me into the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later I was drying the last of the dishes when I heard Miss Jacobsons voice emanating from the living room. Miss Jacobson was a neighbour and aunty always enjoyed humiliatingd me in front of her.
Upon hearing her stringent tones I had froze with fear and promptly dropped the plate I was drying.

Aunty barged into the kitchen closely followed by Miss Jacobson. "You clumsy boy, that is my third best china. Over my knee with you this instant." Aunty grabbed my wrist and as she sat down deftly dragged me across her lap. "Oh goody a spanking," I heard Miss Jacobson shout excitedly as aunty manouvered me into her optimum spanking position. "Arn't you going to lower his pyjama bottoms?" I heard the busybody ask as aunty's first spank descended.

"No-need-it's-the-humiliation-of-the-spanking-ritual-that-really-hurts." Aunty replied between the dozen spanks she administered. The overlong legs of my pyjama  bottoms flapped wildly until aunty stopped.

"Miss Jacobson called to invite me round for a sherry party with a few of her friends, I was going to put you to bed whilst I attended but a better idea I think is that you accompany me and help serve the drinks, would that be permissable Miss Jacobson.?"

"You mean for him to attend wearing his jimjams?"

"Of course, but I shall have to leave at four pm that's when this naughty little boy is going to be tucked into beddy-byes."

Miss Jacobson clapped her hands. "How wonderful, I am sure my friends will be delighted to meet your nephew and discuss your disciplinary techniques with you."

That is how I spent nearly two hours at aunty's neighbours wearing oversized striped pyjamas topping ladies glasses up with sherry. To say I was embarrassed is an understatment and even though I had to bid everyone night-night with a kiss on their cheeks I have never been so relieved to be put to bed.

Alex finds himself being regressed to toddler/baby status at the hands of his aunt and her daughter

BABY ALEX

Alex was not happy. He drew himself up to his full, not considerable height of four foot ten and argued his case with his mother that he was old enough to stay at home and look after himself.
“Alex it’s no good complaining. If you had showed the slightest improvement in your behaviour I might have considered leaving you alone here. The simple fact is you are not to be trusted. At times you behave like a child as opposed to an eighteen year old. Just because you look like a little boy doesn’t mean you have to behave like one. You will stay with your Aunt Hilda and do as you are told for once.”
So it was decided. He would travel down to stay with her sister for the duration of the holidays whilst his mother was away.
Alex’s mother despaired of her son. He had shown a marked reluctance to behave sensibly; perhaps she had been too lenient with him. Trips to various doctors had failed to discover why he had not grown an inch since the death of his father and maybe she had mollycoddled him because of that. She felt a little guilty watching the train pull away; nevertheless, she knew the time had come to draw the line on his boorishness.
As the train trundled through the English countryside toward his destination, Alex grimly pondered how his plans for independence during the holidays had been thwarted. The thought of staying with his Aunt depressed him. He remembered how strict she was when she used to baby-sit him when he was younger, she would not tolerate his bad behaviour and would spank him and put him to bed.
The women sitting opposite looked at him curiously as Alex blushed at the mere recollection of the incident. He was twelve at the time; his behaviour, now that he thought about it, was deserving of his punishment. Aunty had dressed him in his Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas, put him across her knee for a smacked bottom, then put him to bed early. Even worse, his cousin Susan had witnessed the whole sorry affair.

The ticket inspector appeared and Alex was annoyed that he had to go through the not uncommon routine of producing his passport to prove he really was eighteen. He had to carry it with him as he was often mistaken for a runaway child.
His mood brightened as he recalled his cousin Susan. He used to enjoy teasing her about her chubbiness and her ridiculously early bedtimes. When they were alone he would make the ten year old cry by calling her a, “diddums little baby who has to go beddy-byes.” In fact he felt ashamed as he thought of how nasty he had behaved toward her.
The last time he had seen her, Alex had contrived to get Susan into trouble with her mother. This time it was his turn to smirk as he watched Aunt Hilda put Susan into her pink brushed nylon nightie and march her off to bed. Four years ago, after his Aunts divorce, they had moved away to their current address and he had never thought of his cousin since.

Alex struggled with his bag as he left the platform. He recognised his Aunt at once, although her hair was greyer, she was very tall, slightly overweight and still dressed in her familiar austere fashion of black skirt, white blouse and sensible shoes. If what his mother had told him was true and his Aunt had become quite a successful businesswoman there was no sign of ostentatious affluence in her appearance.

Ugly ducklings frequently turn into swans. As his Aunt and cousin approached he realised Susan had unfortunately not made that particular transformation. What she had done was grow to six foot one, courtesy of the genes from her long absent Police Officer father. Her girlish chubbiness had given way to what a generous person might describe as big boned and her myopia had worsened to such an extent that she peered down at Alex from behind heavy lenses and her clothes mirrored her mother's almost exactly.
“You're late,” his Aunt barked as way of a welcome, “come along I am double-parked. Susan take his bag or we will be here all day.”
Susan took the bag he was struggling with and effortlessly carried it in her left hand. “ Well Alex, she said,” you don’t seem to have changed much since our paths last crossed, how tall  are you actually?” She asked smugly. Alex didn't like being reminded of his lack of inches. “Five foot one,” he lied.
Susan smiled mischievously but remained silent. Alex was having trouble keeping up with the two females as they strode away from him. Aunt Hilda paused to wait and to Alex’s surprise grabbed his right hand, Susan simultaneously clutched his left hand and he found himself being marched along toddler like between the two females.
“Hey what’s going on?” He demanded as he tried to squirm away from their grasp. “Do be quiet Alex I don't want a parking ticket.” Aunt Hilda released his hand as she fumbled for her car fob while Susan maintained her tight grip. Bundled into the back of the impressive car, Aunt Hilda leaned over and fastened Alex into a device he thought was a seatbelt. Alex was confused. Two shoulder straps had been linked to a harness that came between his legs and clicked together, he could barely move. He tried undoing the catch but nothing happened. Susan turned to face him from her position in the front passenger seat as her mother eased the powerful car out of the station.  “Don't bother trying to undo it Alex it’s childproof.” She laughed and held up a small remote control. “It was installed especially for you so that you would be safe. You'll find that we are going to take special care of my little cousin during his stay with us..
Alex wanted to ask them what the hell was going on but Susan had delved into his bag and found his camera. “Hey give that back it’s mine.” He stretched out his arms like a small child crying for a stolen toy and in that instant Susan clicked the camera. Grinning she reviewed the picture on the LCD screen. “That’s the first one for the album mother,” she said. Aunt Hilda nodded and glanced in her mirror. Alex saw the smirk of satisfaction on her face and he was about to start one of his childish foul mouth tirades but was stopped short when, with an almost imperceptible hum a divider slid up between the front and rear seats leaving him cocooned in a glass bubble.
A frustrated Alex could do nothing but sit there until eventually the car was heading for a set of iron gates that automatically swung open as they approached and the car glided to a halt outside the impressive house.
The harness that held him clicked open and fell away and he exited the car huffily entering the house.

Once inside Alex approached his cousin. “Where’s my camera?” He asked petulantly, wanting to erase the embarrassing picture taken in the car. Susan raised her hand, holding the camera aloft out of his reach. Alex was acting like a spoilt child. Susan laughed and threw the camera onto the sofa. “Does little Alex want his toy back then?” She asked in a mocking babyish voice. Alex pounced triumphantly on the camera ignoring her jibe in his desperation to remove the offending picture. Aunt Hilda shook her head forlornly. “Alex I think the train journey down has made you tired, I think it best if you go straight to bed.” Alex looked at his Aunt as if she was insane. “Bed, at four o’clock?  Don’t be so stupid. I am eighteen not a baby.”

Aunt Hilda approached Alex. “Don’t you take that tone with me little boy, your mother has been far too indulgent with you” Alex felt an incredible pain as he was yanked to his feet by his earlobe and flung across his Aunts knee. Pulling down his trousers and underwear she proceeded to spank his exposed bottom with the palm of her hand. “Naughty- little- boys- go- to –bed- when- I say- so.” The blows rained down between each word until Alex was howling. Items of clothing flew in all directions as; between spanks she divested him of his clothes. Naked, weeping with rage and shame while still prostrate over his Aunts lap, Alex was stupefied as Susan, grinning maliciously made eye contact with him. “ Remember these Alex?” In her hand she held a pair of Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas.

 “We bought these especially to make you feel at home. I wonder if they will fit, come along, it’s pyjama time for you Alex.” Susan gloated.

Aunt Hilda held Alex firmly across her lap as Susan held his flailing legs and eased the pyjama bottoms up to his waist. “Hold still you naughty boy,” scolded Aunt Hilda as she stood Alex down in front of her. Aunt Hilda held his arms and Susan slipped the sleeves of the pyjama top over them and buttoned him into the pyjama jacket. Alex found himself re-living his worst childhood memory, spanked by Aunt Hilda and put into babyish pyjamas in front of his cousin. What was worse was that not only did the pyjamas fit; they were, if anything, too big.

For an eighteen year old, finding yourself being dressed for bed by your younger, female cousin and ending up sitting on your aunt’s knee in your Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas is pretty humiliating. When Susan wielded the camera to capture that very image Alex became desperate to escape his aunt’s lap.
Trying to regain the initiative Alex mad a futile attempt to wriggle from his aunt.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, tightening her grip on Alex. “Mittens please Susan, it’s time this little baby boy was in beddy-byes.”
They weren’t mittens in the true sense of the word. Instead these were basically knitted tubes of wool. Susan forced his thumbs across his palms and squeezed his hands into the mittens then secured the mittens by pulling the ribbons laced in the cuffs and tying them off.
“What the… take these off at once do you hear me.” Alex’s hands were totally constricted, not having the use of his thumbs he waved his mittened hands around frantically in a futile attempt to shake them off. Susan and his Aunt burst into laughter at his antics.
“Shush now,” his Aunt said as she jiggled Alex on her lap. “You”re almost ready for beddy-byes.”

Alex was in a state of shock as Aunt Hilda led him painfully upstairs by his earlobe as Susan followed telling him how sweet he looked in his “little boys jim-jams,” and how she was looking forward to reading him a bedtime story.
They entered a room several doors along the landing. His room was decorated in Thomas the Tank wallpaper and the bedclothes were themed the same. The floor was covered in a pale blue soft pile carpet, whilst a six drawer tall boy stood in the corner was the only piece of furniture in the room. Above the bed head was a shelf containing several books. Alex was aghast at the infantile appearance of the bedroom as he watched Aunt Hilda fold back the bedclothes.
Susan stood at the corner of the bed alongside the already pulled back bedclothes, and smiled broadly as Alex, not quite knowing what was happening to him, was manoeuvred into the bed by Aunt Hilda. His head sank into a pillow so deep and soft that he could see nothing out of the corner of his eyes except pink flannelette. The bottom sheet he lay on matched the pillowcase, quickly followed by a top sheet of the same softness that Susan had passed across to Aunt Hilda, transforming it from the triangle of a turned back sheet into a full, all encasing bedtime prison for Alex. Four thick woollen blankets followed, each layer tightly tucked underneath the mattress. Alex tried moving his body but found it difficult to move.
Recovering some of his senses, he yelled, “Stop it!” I won’t go to bed at four o’clock! I haven’t had anything to eat yet.” He cried pathetically.

Aunt Hilda paused to fumble in a bedside drawer “What a tired baby you are,” she said dangling a pale blue baby’s dummy on her index finger by the robust rubber band attached to the mouth guard. She lifted his head and forced the teat of the dummy between his pursed lips, simultaneously extending the rubber band over and nestling it at the back of his head. Instantly Alex felt the teat of the dummy penetrate deep into his mouth.
Alex now protested most vehemently but unfortunately all Susan and Aunt Hilda heard was muffled squeals of indignation.
“Mmmmmpppph…!”
“That sounds very much like a little boy having a toddler like tantrum,” Aunt Hilda commented as she used blanket pins to secure two extra thick fleecy pink blankets over Alex and finally covered the whole ensemble with a Thomas the Tank bedspread that matched his pyjamas perfectly.
“There now sugarplum.” Teased his Aunt, “all cosy- wosy in beddy-byes aren’t we. I will be back in a minute so don’t go away.” She laughed out loud as she spoke, poor Alex was cocooned in his bed and was certainly going nowhere. Susan stared down at him and he saw her raise the camera.  Once again she showed him the result, and once again he was horrified to see a picture of himself tucked tightly into bed sucking on a baby’s dummy whilst wearing his childhood Thomas the Tank winceyette pyjamas.
Susan peered at Alex through her thick lenses. “Poor Alex,” she said, as her finger traced a pattern upon his cheeks, before un-tying his dummy “Do you remember how you used to tease me at bedtime and how upset I used to become? Alex murmured a subdued yes. “Well now it’s my turn. You are going to be spending a lot of time tucked up in bed so you had better get used to it!”
Aunt Hilda bustled back into the room “You wanted sustenance Alex, well here it is,” she said triumphantly. Alex was unable to see why Susan was laughing until it was too late. The teat of a baby’s bottle was being thrust into his mouth!
Aunt Hilda held the bottle almost vertically forcing him to take large swallows of what he perceived to be some kind of sickly sweetened milk. “Dwink all you”re milky from your ba-ba like a good little boy,” Aunt Hilda cooed to him, “then you will go straight to sleepy byes.”
Before he knew it Alex had been forced to drain the bottle and the dummy was being secured once again. “There now,” said Aunt Hilda as she closed the thick curtains leaving only a shaft of light from the open bedroom door to illuminate the room. “Susan is going to stay and read you a lovely bedtime story whilst you drift of to bye-byes” Aunt Hilda kissed his forehead and patted his rosy red cheeks. “Don’t be too embarrassed Alex, remember you will be staying with us for a long time!”
Aunt Hilda closed the bedroom door and Alex, his vision constrained by the soft pillow, could only detect a faint red hue of light that emanated from the night-light that stood unseen by him on the bedside cabinet. “Well now, what shall we read sweetums,” Susan mused as she rummaged along the bookshelf.

Pulling up a chair, she pushed her glasses upwards and began to read aloud.
“Once upon a time there were three bears……….”

Alex frantically tried to move, straining to escape his nightmare. Strangely he felt suddenly very weak and tired, Susan’s voice became distant as his eyes began to close ever so slowly until he could resist no longer and fell soundly to sleep. 

Alex woke not with a start as so often happens when you have slept in a strange bed, but in what seemed like stages. At first only a brief awareness of being conscious then a series of memories that he could only assume were dreams until that final dawning of realisation

He tried to spit out the dummy but it was still securely fastened, eventually with a supreme effort he managed to turn half over just allowing space enough for one arm to extricate itself from the confines of the bedding. Triumphantly he untied the dummy and hurled it across the room, pulling himself free from the grasp of the tightly tucked in sheets, Alex threw off his Thomas the Tank pyjamas in disgust then pulled on his pants and t-shirt that were lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

By now he was desperate to empty his bladder, not having been for many hours and flung open the bedroom door in search of a toilet. At he very end of the landing was a half open door, thankfully Alex could see it was the very room he needed. He hurriedly headed toward it.
“Boo!”
Alex practically relieved himself there and then as Aunt Hilda appeared from behind the bathroom door. “What are you doing out of bed and dressed Alex?” She asked, firmly gripping his ear as she had the previous day. “When I put you to bed I expect you to stay there until Susan or I say otherwise. Come with me, you need to be punished for this.”

Alex was marched down stairs. Even though he was smarting from the pain being inflicted upon his ear he was startled on seeing the kitchen clock. It was nine o’clock.  He had been asleep for seventeen hours!
But Alex had more pressing problems. “I must use the toilet Aunty,” he wailed.
She had released his lobe; Alex was now practically hopping around so urgent was his need. “Clothes off please Alex then we will see about Mr Wee-Wee.” Angrily he removed his clothes, unashamed due to his pressing need. Susan sidled up to him and he recoiled in horror as he saw what she held in her hand. I am sure you recall this Alex.” Alex’s head was thrust into a pink; brushed nylon nightie just like the one Susan had worn as a child whilst he teased her. His arms were slipped into the long sleeves as the garment fell to the floor covering his legs totally “There now what a darling nightie for a darling lickle girl.” Susan giggled at her own words as she fastened the three front buttons of the little girl nightie.
“You may use the toilet if you ask correctly, bring it here Susan please.” Alex stared in horror as a pink baby’s potty was set down in front of him.

“Now, say, May I use the po-po please Miss Susan,” Alex hesitated before he spat out the words defiantly.
“No, that’s not quite right is it sweetums?” Susan slipped another pink dummy into his mouth and once again the thick rubber band embedded it securely in his mouth.

 “Try it now,” she urged. This time Alex blushed as Susan and her Mother laughed aloud upon hearing his attempt to speak with the dummy in his mouth. “May I uthe the po-po pleathe Mith Thuthan”

“Well done Alex, that was much better, now it’s potty time for sweetums.” Alex had no alternative put to hitch up his nightie and squat down. He didn’t care that he was sitting on a potty wearing a pink nightie sucking on a baby’s dummy in front of his Aunt and cousin as the camera flashed again, all he cared about was the relief he felt.
“All finished?” Alex nodded,  “Very good then, why don’t you give us a nice curtsey and say thank you to Susan, and don’t forget the Miss. As your new baby sitter Susan deserves to be treated with respect”

Alex gazed up horrified at his Aunt from his ridiculously humiliating position “Yes that is correct, from now on you will address your cousin as Miss Susan at all times, further more you will answer to the name of Baby Alex. In my absence Susan has full authority over you. She may spank you, dress you in your nightie or pyjamas and put you to bed at any time. Come along now Baby Alex let us see you curtsey.”

Reluctantly he struggled up, grasped the sides of the billowing nightie and sheepishly did a passable curtsey managing a feeble, “fank oo Mith Thuthan.” Predictably Susan captured the moment for posterity as she giggled at his predicament.

“And now Baby Alex it’s back to beddy-byes for you. Susan will escort you to bed while I prepare something to help you go sleepy-byes. Nightie night Baby Alex”
Imagine. Alex was eighteen and wearing a girl’s childish pink nightie! Even worse his younger female cousin was taking him back to bed at nine thirty in the morning!!
As “Miss” Susan led him upstairs he wondered just how worse his life could get. He was soon to find out.

Susan ushered Alex back into the bedroom. “Right Baby Alex first of all we will have those picked up and neatly folded.”
She stood impatiently as Alex, never having to do such a thing before, clumsily attempted to fold his discarded Thomas the Tank pyjamas. “That’s a clever boy,” she said sarcastically taking the folded garments from him and draping them over the bed end.

Alex was left standing uncomfortable in his pink nightie and sucking nervously and unconsciously on his dummy as he watched Susan adjust something that looked like a radio on the bedside cabinet.
Susan turned to face him. “That’s your baby monitor set to it’s most sensitive so if you even think about getting out of bed without permission I will know about it. Do you understand Baby Alex?” She had admonished him as if he was a small child and for some reason he hung his head in shame before whispering, “Yeth Mith Thuthan”

Susan gave a little smile of satisfaction, sat down in the story telling chair and tapped her left knee with her hand in the time-honoured fashion.

Susan had never spanked anyone before. Now she was in a position to do so she was going to savour the moment. Alex took an involuntary suck on his dummy as he watched Susan sit down and pat her lap. He watched her unbutton the cuffs and roll up the sleeves of her white blouse. Probably a school blouse, he thought as he found himself rapidly examining her clothing. She appeared to be wearing most of her school uniform. As well as the white blouse she wore a pleated skirt, heavy black tights and a pair of sturdy black brogues.

“Baby Alex, come here now!” Startled out of his observations he slowly moved toward her. He felt the hem of his pink nightie swish around his ankles as the buttoned up Peter Pan collar began to chafe at his neck. Again she patted her lap. “Over you go.” Alex draped himself over his fifteen-year-old cousins lap.
He felt her hand circling his brushed nylon clad buttocks, searching for the optimum point of impact. In his mind he could envisage the now raised arm adjacent to her head before it began to descend upon his tensed bottom.

Susan had dreamt of this moment, of having her older cousin poised across her lap ready to receive a spanking she was about to deliver. She let her hand explore the material of his nightie just as her mother had done to her. She remembered trying to anticipate when the first blow would come and hoped that Alex was feeling that same uncertainty now. For that reason she hesitated for another second before bringing her hand crashing down onto his left buttock.

Alex gave a yell, although stifled by his dummy it was indication to Susan that she was hitting the right spot.
Quickly she found her rhythm; two swats left buttock two swats right.
Alex began to flail his legs and tears flowed down his face. How could a fifteen-year-old girl spank so hard! “Pwease thtop,” he lisped through his dummy. Susan did so, not because of his frantic pleadings but because she was enjoying herself too much. This must not end yet she thought.
She felt his torso relax across her lap and felt aggrieved that he thought his spanking was over. “Hold still Baby Alex I haven’t finished yet.”

Susan pulled up the hem of his nightie to reveal his nicely reddened bottom. She was surprised at how soft and smooth the skin of his bottom was as once again her hand explored the shape and texture of his divinely rotund buttocks. It was almost a shame to despoil them. Almost.

Alex began to whimper as he felt his nightie being dragged further upward to completely expose his bottom. He closed his eyes tightly and tensed himself. He knew what was to come.

Susan was slightly out of breath when she had finished. Focusing on Alex’s bottom she could see it had turned fiery red. She was aware that his muffled yells and screams had become ever more frantic as she spanked him harder and harder, increasing her tempo until her hand stung with pain.

She felt joyous, light headed almost. So much so, that later, she could not re-call how she had instructed Alex to curtsey and thank Miss Susan for his spanking. Amidst all his tears and pain he was further humiliated. Twice she had made him do it. His first curtsey had not reached the required standard and he had been obliged to repeat the act for her satisfaction. What shame he felt dropping curtseys to his fifteen-year-old cousin wearing a pink nightie, as she loomed over him in her school uniform.

Aunt Hilda positioned the soft flannelette sheet under his chin and tucked it in. “Is Baby Alex all upset because he got a spanking from Mith Thuthan.” She teased, pulling blankets tightly around him. “Never mind, Aunty has your baby bottle here so when you dwink all your milky up you will go straight to sleepy-byes and forget all about that nasty spanking “

Alex’s spanking had made him gasp for breath, frantically sucking in air coupled with his tear stained face gave him the appearance of an upset child receiving comfort from his dummy and now he was once again helplessly confined in his bed as Aunt Hilda added a thick eiderdown quilt held firmly in place by the tightly tucked in Thomas the Tank bedspread.  He was helpless to prevent his dummy being removed, helpless as the teat of a baby’s bottle was eased into his mouth and helpless to avoid swallowing the sweet tasting liquid it held. 

Aunt Hilda wiped a drop of milk from his chin, “off you go to bye-byes Baby Alex, I have to go out now but Susan has proved she is quite capable of looking after you.” Susan replaced Aunt Hilda in Alex’s line of vision. “This is your special new dum-dum Baby Alex? See, it allows naughty babies like you to be given their medicine with each little suck of their dum-dum. Remember teasing me about the tonic Mother used to make me drink before I went to bed?  Castor oil and prune juice Baby Alex, yum-yum.”

“No I won’t….”
Alex’s protests were stifled as Susan fastened on the feeding dummy. Detecting the first hint of liquid dripping through the teat, he foolishly attempted not to swallow; gradually the foul tasting concoction collected in his mouth until he was obliged to gulp it down.
Susan watched with glee as his facial expression showed how appalling the taste was.
“Dwink it all up Baby Alex, it will take about fifteen minutes to empty, then straight to sleepy byes for you. Some of my friends from my study group are coming around and if I hear a peep out of you on the baby monitor there will be trouble.”

Tightly tucked up in bed at ten fifteen in the morning wearing a brushed nylon pink nightie, Alex lay alone with his thoughts. The room was in total darkness, not even a shaft of light from beneath the closed bedroom door permeated his black confinement. He was conscious too of the silence; the only sound was his own rhythmic sucking of his dummy.  Even Alex had worked out that the baby formula contained a sleep-inducing ingredient and he fought its properties for as long as he could, indeed he was still awake when an involuntary suck of his dummy finally exhausted the supply of the noxious liquid he had been force-fed.

His eyes still stared into blackness as another kind captured his body and sent him plummeting into the abyss of enforced sleep.

At first he could detect just murmurings, then it was giggling girlish laughter, finally the door swung open, sending light cascading into the room.

“Dins time Baby Alex.” He heard Susan’s voice but could not yet see her. Then her spectacle-straddled face was peering at him. Her face was so close to his that he could see the concaves in the rims of her lenses.  He felt the tension of the bedding being released; Susan hauled him up into a sitting position and he closed his eyes from the brightness as the curtains were dramatically thrown open. As he became accustomed to the light he was aware she was not alone. Two girls were with her. One, who had opened the curtains, was about the same height and build as Susan, another was smaller, also wore glasses and held a fold down tray that she placed across Alex.

Susan leaned across and removed his feeding dummy. “Did Baby Alex enjoy his nice juice then?” She laughed, as poor Alex suffered the indignity of having Susan tie a baby’s bib tied around his neck.

“We wouldn’t want to make a mess down your pretty nightie would we Baby Alex?” Alex stared down at the pink towelling bib, a yellow duck emblazoned upon it. Alex heard giggles but was too ashamed to look up.
“Baby Alex is a very naughty boy,” she said, addressing her friends, “ that is why I had to spank his botty and put him to beddy-byes?”
“ So you really have got your eighteen year old cousin tucked up in bed wearing a nightie, I didn’t believe you!”
“Baby Alex, this is Miss Honour and Miss Kate, do you understand or will you require another spanking?
“Yes Miss Susan, I mean no Miss Susan” Howls of laughter greeted his flustered words.

“Look at these. Baby Alex are these your jim-jams? “ Honour held in her hand the Thomas the Tank pyjamas that had been draped at the bottom of the bed. "Answer Miss Honour sweetums," Susan prompted.
“Yes Miss Honour,” replied Alex, now so humiliated that his chin was firmly entrenched on the yellow duck of his bib.

“Can we see him wear them please Susan can we? Please.” It was Kate who was begging Susan. She had taken the pyjamas and was holding the jacket against herself. “He must look so sweet in them?”
“Perhaps later, Susan said, “my mother will be back soon and I must give Baby Alex his dinner. Who’s got the camera?”

Susan uncovered the tray and dipped a spoon into the bowl. “Lovely mashed sprouts and broccoli. Come along here comes the train.”
Alex almost gagged as Susan shovelled revolting spoonfuls of mashed greens into his mouth as Kate focused the camera. 
“Good healthy food for Baby Alex will make you big and stwong.” The camera flashed as Alex dribbled food onto his bib.

At last Alex swallowed the final spoonful, Susan removed his bib and tied his ordinary dummy into place. “What do you say baby Alex?”
 ”Fank oo for my din-dins Mith Thuthan.” The three girls could not contain their laughter as once again the curtains were closed and Alex was securely tucked back into bed.

Alex lay in bed wide- awake and feeling slightly nauseous. His tormentors had only just left and to his horror he realised his bladder was full. He turned his head slightly and spoke hesitantly toward the baby monitor. “ Mith Thuthan, Mith Thuthan, may I uthe the po-po pleathe Mith Thuthan”

Before long Susan opened the bedroom door. “I think we will have to do something about that weak bladder of yours Baby Alex,” she said releasing him from the confines of his blankets. “Come along.”  Susan ushered him out pausing only to grab his Thomas the Tank pyjamas.

Alex almost tripped on his long nightie as Susan led him downstairs by his earlobe. His face burnt bright with embarrassment as he was paraded past Kate and Honour.
How would you feel being led shamefully past two giggling schoolgirls, a dum-dum tied securely in your mouth, whilst receiving an ear twisting from your younger cousin? Not only that but then to have to sit on a babies potty wearing your pretty pink nightie!

Susan held open the Thomas the Tank pyjama bottoms and made Alex step into them. She removed the nightie and buttoned him back into the pyjama top.

“What a sweet lickle Baby Alex you are in your precious jim-jams,” said Honour as she neatly smoothed down the pyjama collar.
“He doesn’t have to go back to bed yet does he?” Asked Kate wanting to savour the sight of an eighteen-year-old boy wearing Thomas the Tank pyjamas. 

“Well he should really, my mother told me to keep him in bed.” Susan was torn between obeying her mother and wanting to show Alex off to her friends.” Ok then, but just for a little while.”
Susan’s two friends fussed around Alex while she gave anxious glances at the clock. Finally she decided to return him to bed. “A nice drink of milk from his bottle should send him straight to sleepy byes,” she told her friends. Fascinated they gathered round to watch the preparation.

Alex stared out of the open French window. He could see the bottom of the drive. The gates were open.  He glanced at the girls, they were distracted and no one was paying him any attention. Out through the opening he went, ignoring the shouts from behind, his bare feet struggled for grip on the wet grass that lined the gravel driveway. His eyes focused on the ever-nearing open gates. Freedom was only yards away.