Friday, 25 January 2013

Aunty comes to visit and I earn a spanking

Aunty invited herself to stay when the snow became too deep for her to drive home. Of course, I immediately displeased her when I was obviously reluctant to give up my new king size bed for her.
"The spare room will be perfect for you aunty," I gushed, "see, that single bed is extremely comfy."
Big mistake. "Well, why don't you tell me how comfy it was in the morning because I'm putting you to bed in it right this minute! Now, where are your pyjamas”?

In no time aunty had buttoned me into my pyjama jacket, it was only 4.15 as aunty made me step into the voluminous pyjama bottoms and pulled them up, tucking the jacket inside the elasticised waistband of the pyjama bottoms. "There now, already for beddy-byes but first someone has earned a bedtime spanking."

Foolishly I asked her in my most petulant voice if she was the one who had earned a spanking. Needless to say, she was not amused and proceeded to tan my pyjama clad backside with one of her size 12 slippers until I begged her to stop. Once I had apologised for my behaviour aunty gave me a hug and tucked me into bed.
Will I never learn?

Saturday, 19 January 2013

A pyjama punishment with added spice.

As soon as I saw mum approaching with the pyjamas draped over her arm I knew I was in trouble. Even though it was only three thirty in the afternoon and I had just recently celebrated my eighteenth birthday I knew I was bound for bed.

Mum always dressed in her matrons uniform to punish me. Even today, just seeing someone dressed in a dark blue uniform scares me. Mum took my hand and led me upstairs; I feared what she had in store for me.

The blue and white striped pyjamas I was wearing were several sizes too big for me; mum had purchased seven pairs as a job lot. Mum enjoyed dressing me in them; they were winceyette pyjamas, the bottoms fastened with a drawstring and the pyjama jacket buttoned to the neck. I had to clutch at the waist of the bottoms to keep them up as I was marched upstairs to my room.

Mum stood me in the corner and told me to put my hands on my head and not move until she returned. As I was unable to support my pyjama bottoms they slid slowly to my ankles. I stood there for a couple of minutes until I heard her return to the room. Mum lifted up my overlong pyjama jacket to expose my bare bottom; instinctively I tensed my buttocks as she patted my bottom with her hand.

“I hope you are going to be a brave boy for mummy,” she said, “ I will give you four, if you move I will start again from the beginning.”

Mum was very experienced and wielded the cane with practiced dexterity. The first strike always took my breath away and I almost tottered forward but recovered and kept my hands firmly on my head. Mum was excellent at varying the timing between each stroke of the cane so that I could never anticipate any of the blows. The second one made me cry out, this she didn’t mind, in fact it would have pleased her that she had “broken” me so quickly on this occasion, usually I lasted longer. After the third one I could feel the welts rising and I was physically crying, I begged her to stop but she insisted I stand and accept the fourth. I waited a long time, longer than I ever had before. I heard the swish then felt the sting. Somehow I remained resolute and maintained my position.

I heard her leave the room, mum always kept her canes in her room for some reason, I still didn’t move.

She returned and I heard her lower the side of the cot. She ordered me to sit on the plastic covered mattress.  I shuffled to the cot; my pyjama bottoms still bunched around my ankles and winced in pain as I sat on the cold mattress.

Mum went to the dresser and took out a baby’s dummy still in its packaging. She removed it and tied ribbons to the dummy’s ring. Knowing from experience that refusing to accept the dummy would only cause me further punishment I meekly closed my mouth around the teat of the dummy while she tied it in place.

From the same drawer mum produced my punishment bonnet. The bonnet was a frilled peek-a-boo style of white cotton that totally restricted my peripheral vision. Mum fastened the bonnet under my neck with ribbons; she tied them so tightly that there was no way of shaking the bonnet off.

Once she was satisfied my dummy and bonnet were securely tied mum told me to lie down on the mattress. For some reason I hesitated and tried to protest at her treatment of me. Unfortunately all that emanated from was  “mmmmphhh!” 

Mum pushed backwards onto the mattress and secured my wrists in the padded leather cuffs that were affixed to the bars at the head end of the cot.

Mum then told me to turn and face the wall, this was slightly difficult with my hands secured but I managed to twist my body so that my bottom was again exposed to my mums view. She examined my bottom with her hands.

“My that does look sore,” she commented. “I had better get you something for that.”

She returned and I heard the ominous sound of a rubber glove being snapped on. “Now my baby boy stay very still.”

Mums rubber encased finger began to enter my rosebud.  “Mmmmphhh”, I moaned through the teat of the dummy as she worked her finger deeper into me. Then she was pushing; something uncomfortable was invading my bottom. 
Then I became aware of the unmistakable aroma of ginger.

“Mmmmphhh, mmmmphhh!”  I started to panic and tried to resist and expel the root but she had one hand firmly planted in the small of my pyjama clad back whist she forced the foreign object into my anus. Finally my sphincter muscle closed and mum patted my bottom.

“There, it won’t be long until that piece of ginger makes it’s presence felt and I’ve just enough left to tend those nasty looking weal’s on you bottom.”

Mum proceeded to rub the juice of the ginger into my bottom.  As she pulled up my pyjama bottoms and tied them tightly around my waist the ginger was already beginning to take effect. Externally my bottom was already on fire, and internally I was just beginning to feel the initial warming begin.

Mum secured my ankles in the same manner as my wrists. I was now secured in the cot lying on my back wearing oversized blue striped pyjamas a frilled baby’s bonnet with a baby’s dummy secure in my mouth. Mum peered down at me through the narrow confines of my baby bonnet.

“Now you just lie there and squirm and reflect on your behaviour babykins,” she said as she pulled up the rail of the cot. “Night night!”

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

Still more from Pyjama Punishment Monthly

Dear Pyjama Punishment Monthly

I too enjoy wearing women's pyjamas, winceyette ones or brushed cotton or brush nylon. In fact any type that could be described as granny style pyjamas. This all stems from when I was 9 and I had to go and live with my aunt and her daughter who was 4 years older than me. From the very start I was subject to a very strict bedtime routine. Upon arrival I was bathed and my aunt searched my belongings for my pyjamas but my mother (who was very ill) had forgotten to pack any. "Well I am not wasting money buying you pyjamas," I was told, "you'll just have to wear your cousins old pyjamas. So that very first day I was dressed in my cousin’s winceyette pyjamas. Off course they were always pink or yellow with flowers or teddy bears on them and had frilly elasticised cuffs on the sleeves. My bedtime was set at 6.30 and I had to put my pyjamas on as soon as I arrived home from school. Sometimes if my aunt was going to be out I had to wait to walk home with my cousin and she would say in front of her friends, "Straight into your pyjamas when we get home mind, I think you should wear your cosy pink pyjamas tonight." And they would all giggle. If I annoyed my aunt when we out shopping at the weekend she would often say things like, "right, when we get home you are putting your pyjamas on and after I have spanked you you're going straight to bed." My cousin would often tell my aunt that I had been cheeky or naughty at school and I would be punished with a spanking and an early bedtime on Saturday and Sunday, Like ready for bed I was regularly in my girls winceyette pink floral pyjamas by 2pm and in bed by three. Because I was small this went on until I was in my late teens when I eventually escaped their clutches by going to university. When I returned for the holidays though I was quickly dressed back into a pair of ladies pyjamas and spanked before being put to bed early.