Sunday, 28 February 2016

NEW EARLY BEDTIME & PYJAMA TIME RULES. I have to study them as I have a quiz shortly.


Aunty has noticed that you are irritable and tired, it is obvious to Mrs Jacobson and I that you require a regular, permanent bedtime routine. To facilitate this new regime, Miss Cynthia Bracegirdle has agreed to place cameras in all rooms in your flat and has shown us how to view them on our laptop. This now enables us to see you are appropriately dressed in suitable pyjamas and that your new bedtimes are adhered to when you are out of our direct control. Of course our aim is still to have you live with us where you will be dressed permanently in pyjamas and your bedtimes will be extremely flexible.

Miss Cynthia Bracegirdle has full spanking, pyjama time and early bedtime authority over you with immediate effect.

We need to ensure you have enough sleep by putting you to bed at an appropriate time, you will have a set bedtime that will be rigidly adhered to, therefore Aunty and Mrs Jacobson have devised the following bedtime schedule for you.

Aunty reserves the right to change this schedule without prior notice if she feels you need more sleepy-byes time. When Aunty and/or Mrs Jacobson puts you to bed, you are to remain in bed until Aunty or Mrs Jacobson gives you permission to get up. If you are discovered out of bed without permission for any reason  you will go across our laps to receive a smacked bottom.

Your New Bedtimes

Monday-Friday your bedtime will be 5:00 p.m.
Saturday your bedtime will be 5: 30 p.m.
Sunday your bedtime will be 4:00 p.m.

These bedtimes are to be observed all year including any holidays.

Any misbehaviour on your part may result in you being put to bed earlier.

The bedtimes listed are to be interpreted as the absolute latest time that you will be in bed on the indicated nights.

*Christmas Bedtimes.

Aunty noted how you became particularly hyperactive prior to the Christmas holidays. It seems the excitement of Santa visiting is all too much for you. To keep you calm, one week from Christmas day, you will go to bed exactly forty five minutes after you arrive home from work. This means your Christmas weekday bedtime will be 4:15pm
Once you have begun your holiday you will spend the days dressed in your pyjamas to help soothe you and prevent excess excitement as Christmas day approaches.
Frequent naptimes will also be required throughout these days. This also has the benefit of allowing Aunty and Mrs Jacobson to prepare for Christmas unhindered. On these days your bedtime will remain at 4:15pm
As previously stated your bedtimes have been decided. However, prior to your bedtime you will be dressed ready for bed immediately after you have been bathed.

Your routine will be as follows.

If  you are given a supervised bath you will be wrapped in a towel then bought downstairs. Aunty or Mrs Jacobson will then dress you in a clean pair or pyjamas. You are not permitted to assist in this procedure as naughty boys have no right to dictate to grown ups about their jim-jams.

Aunty or Mrs Jacobson will first button you into your pyjama jacket. Then your pyjama bottoms will be sprinkled inside with talcum powder so that you will smell nice for beddy-byes and you will step into the pyjama bottoms as instructed. When you have both feet in your pyjama bottoms and only then, you will raise your arms from your side so that Aunty or Mrs Jacobson can pull you pyjama bottoms up properly. Your pyjama jacket will always be tucked inside the waistband of your pyjama bottoms and your pyjama bottoms waistline will be raised to a height just below your armpits.

Your nursery patterned pyjamas are deliberately made several sizes too large, this is intended to give you an infantile appearance, along with  your bunny rabbit slippers that befits your status.

If you are showering unsupervised you will come downstairs wrapped in a towel and present yourself to Aunty or Mrs Jacobson and say the following words.

“Aunty/Mrs Jacobson I have had my shower and I need to be dressed in my jim-jams ready for beddy-byes, thank you.” If you fail to speak these words, Aunty or Mrs Jacobson will administer to you a smacked bottom.

Each Sunday, Mrs Jacobson’s sewing circle meets at 2:00pm. You will greet all the ladies with the words,"good afternoon aunty," After serving tea you will shower and present yourself naked to one of the aunts who will dress you in your pyjamas. You will spend the time until beddybyes sitting quietly with your colouring book unless one of the ladies wants to pet you and sit you on their knee. At 3.55 you will kiss everyone night-night and Aunty will take you up to bed.

This strict, non-negotiable bedtime regime will begin immediately.   
There will no doubt be times when your behaviour warrants additional punishment. On these occasions you can expect to find yourself with a very sore smacked bottom, dressed in your pyjamas and put straight to beddy-byes at any time of the day.

You have been warned.

Saturday, 27 February 2016

The Winceyest Pyjamas. I recently jokingly used a made up word to describe a pair of pyjamas that I found to be very comfy and decided to try and discover which pair were indeed the "winceyest". Unable though to choose an outright winner I have selected some of the best in no particular order.

Humiliated in public in pink pyjamas at the hands of the formidable Miss Cynthia Bracegirdle

It was with some relief that I received the news my car would not be ready until Monday. My phone call to aunty explaining why I would not be visiting at the weekend was therefore truthful as aunty has that knack of knowing when I am telling fibs, the consequences usually being a mouth soaping and an early bedtime for me.

As it was I was looking forward to a carefree couple of days and had gotten myself comfy in a pair of shorts and flip-flops when, about thirty minutes later, there was a persistent ringing of my doorbell. Annoyed by the disturbance I flung open the door.

In swept Cynthia Bracegirdle, "come along Wincerind, chop, chop, I’m here to drive you down to your aunt's for the weekend."

That damned woman had brushed past me and strode forcefully into my lounge as it appeared that upon receiving my call, aunty had immediately contacted Cynthia to arrange for her to collect me and take me to aunty's house.

"I'm perfectly happy here Miss Bracegirdle," I answered rather haughtily, "please inform aunty that my previous decision stands and that I will not be visiting this weekend."

Cynthia looked at me with amusement, "you really are just a silly little boy aren't you?"

She sat herself down on my sofa, grabbing my left wrist as she moved backwards, pulling me toward her and over her lap. I don't know how she achieved it but in one movement she had completely removed my shorts and was smacking my bare bottom with a multitude of accurate hand spanks.

"Are you coming to your aunts with me?" She asked, pausing from administering damage to my poor bottom to listen to my reply.

"Yes, yes alright," I sobbed.

"Excellent decision Wincerind," she confirmed, setting my naked self down from her lap before adding, "time then to get you into your travelling pyjamas."

I looked at her dumfounded,” my what.... what on earth are travelling pyjamas?"

Cynthia retrieved and unzipped the holdall that had lain unnoticed by me in the doorway.

"These are your travelling pyjamas," she proclaimed holding aloft a bundle of pink winceyette. "Come here," she ordered.

In a pathetic attempted to run away I headed for my bedroom but of course Cynthia was far too quick for me and I was once again put across her knee. 

"Are you going to put on your travelling pyjamas like a good little boy or am I going to have to smack your naughty boy bottom again?" She asked, laying one stinging blow to my already reddened bottom. 

"Think about the answer I would like to hear before opening that silly mouth of yours," she warned.

I pondered for a second, knowing it was more than my pride I was about to swallow.

"Please Miss Bracegirdle," I began, my voice quivering and shaking as if I were a pre-pubescent boy on speech day, "may I put on my travelling pyjamas please, thank you kindly Miss Bracegirdle ma'am?"

Cynthia beamed with pleasure, knowing she had broken me completely. "Of course you can wear your lovely travelling pyjamas, little man, you only had to ask. Now, there are several sets, I think I'll decide from those two I think."

Cynthia flapped open a monstrous pink, one-piece winceyette outfit and a pair of pink floral, footed winceyette pyjamas the jacket of which had a petit, Peter Pan collar

"I think the pyjama romper to begin with don't you?" Although the question was purely rhetorical as she eagerly dressed me in the horrible romper outfit.

"Oh yes, very fetching," she smirked as she fastened me into what was definitely a pyjama romper outfit and adjusted the frilly elasticised cuffs to her satisfaction. 
Pausing only to shuffle my feet into a pair of pink slippers, before I knew what was happening she had grabbed my hand and was leading me down the lobby stairs toward her car.

To my utter shame Mrs Cuthbertson, who lives in the apartment opposite was climbing up the stairs as we descended. Cynthia could not resist pausing for a moment. "Say hello to the nice lady Wincerind, clever boy, off we go."

We departed, leaving a very puzzled Mrs Cuthbertson behind and me extremely red-faced.

I quickly got myself into the passenger seat before I could encounter any more neighbours and we set off. Needless to say I was not feeling in the mood for conversation and we sat in silence as we drove despite her suggestion to get me to sing "travelling" songs, such as, He'll be wearing pink pyjamas.

Before we even halfway to my aunt’s house, Cynthia pulled into the refreshment area and parked outside the cafe area in plain view of anyone sitting in the window seats, luckily that at that moment there were none.

"I'm sick of your sullenness," she suggested coldly as she took out her phone.

"I expect you start enjoying the trip immediately or else."

Crossing my arms defiantly I sank lower sunk into the seat, “or else what?" I asked stupidly, thinking the worst she could do was to take my picture.

Instead she turned to face me, "I am going into the restroom," she began, "this is the voice recorder setting, while I am away you will sing, sitting here in the front seat, The wheels on the bus go round and round, clapping along with yourself as you do so for the entire ten minutes the recording will last" 

Looking as dignified as I could wearing my one piece, pink winceyette romper suit I started to argue but she held up her hand to silence me and the look on her face convinced me to do as I was told, she continued.

"Upon my return we will sit and listen to the full ten minutes of the recording, if you have not sang and clapped the whole time this is what will happen.

Cynthia Bracegirdle went on to tell me that if I did not perform as she wished, she would take me into the busy ladies rest room, remove my pyjama romper and replace it with the pair of pink floral footed pyjamas that she thought would make me look very muck like a sissy.
Then she would take me into the cafe and sit me upon her knee and order me warm milk in a sippy cup, tying a baby's bib around my neck she would feed me the milk before, "helping me get my windy-woos up", she also threatened to spank me if I resisted in any way.

Needless to say she had my up most attention and even before Cynthia had closed her door I was already clapping and singing, totally ignoring the looks I was getting from people sat in the cafe and people who were passing by. 

I scanned the exit eagerly, foolishly wishing that Cynthia Bracegirdle would soon return.

"The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, the wheels on the bus go round and round, all day long......."

Wednesday, 24 February 2016

Lawrence Lambikins, how a boy begins his journey to complete pyjama and early bedtime punishment. Another amended re-post

It was six thirty pm. Sixteen year old Lawrence lay tightly tucked up in his cot staring upwards at the slow turning mobile that hung inches above him, it’s twirling, infantile figures appearing to mock and exult in his humiliation.
Previously, what was between his legs had been a source of pleasure to him when in bed; but he wasn’t in bed, he was in beddy-byes, and between his legs now were several layers of thick, towelling nappies that were, much to his shame, already wet.
He had an itch, managing to free one hand from underneath the blanket, he moved it toward his nose but the padding of his mitten prevented any relief. He twitched and contorted his nose but this only wiggled the dummy that was tied in his mouth and a line of saliva dribbled onto his chin. He tried to sit up, but the baby reins and those clips and D rings kept him firmly prostrate and confined to his cot.
He turned his head so that the frill of his baby bonnet couldn't prevent the glow from his night light providing enough illumination for him to examine the lambs that gamboled across his pyjama clad arm. They had become his bedtime friends and in the dim glow, he silently greeted them.
The floorboard on the landing creaked, stupidly, he looked at the baby monitor, no, he hadn’t made a sound, had he?
Hastily he concealed his arm underneath the blanket and closed his eyes; he had to at least pretend to be asleep, Miss Kettering had put him to beddy-byes half an hour ago and he might just escape a spanking when she found out he was wet if she though he had been a good lambikins and had went straight to sleep.
Lawrence barely looked up as Miss Kettering entered the room. He was in his favourite position, lounging length-ways on the sofa, his dirty trainer’s leaving muddy footmarks on the fabric while the gel on his hair stained the sofa arm.
Robert turned lazily and gave the woman a disdainful stare. To Lawrence’s young eyes Miss Kettering was an old women, yet she was only in her early fifties. What did surprise him was her height. Lawrence was sensitive about his height, being somewhat diminutive for a sixteen year old.
This women was tall, over six foot, her figure could be described as matronly. She stared at the lounging Lawrence from behind her old-fashioned spectacles; her grey hair was  tied severely back into a bun, clearly exposing the lines upon her face.
She wore a frilled white blouse fastened at the neck and draped unbuttoned over her shoulders was a grey cardigan. The fluffy woollen cardigan had two enormous pockets in which Lawrence imagined she kept out of date packets of mints that she would present to unsuspecting young children.
Gazing down at her feet he was not too surprised to see her wearing a pair of pink, furry slippers that were perhaps, a little too well worn.   
He turned his gaze away and resumed his previous posture.
His mother had no right to impose this woman on him while she visited his grandmother. Although it was perhaps because she had remembered the mess of the house and the complaints from the neighbours the last time she had only been away; it had only been for one night but it had been a mistake to assume responsibility would make Lawrence act like the sixteen year old he was instead of a spoilt child.
In any regard, that particular experiment would not be repeated for a long time.
‘I don’t know how long I will be away for,’ his mother had said, ‘your Grandmother is not at all well and I expect you to do as you are told. In fact,’ she said knowingly, ‘I am confident you will obey Miss Kettering’s every word.’
His mother commented rather strangely as she kissed him goodbye.
‘Yeah right,’ he had sneered. As far as he was concerned Miss Kettering was there only to provide him with food and to keep his irritating kid sister out of his way.
Lawrence was not well disposed toward his sister. His mother was always saying, ‘why can’t you be well behaved like your sister,’ and ‘your sister doesn’t get low marks at school.’
His sister also had an annoying habit of looking down at him with a certain disdain that made him feel uncomfortable. That was another reason he liked to keep her at a distance, at thirteen, Susie was already four inches taller than him and she enjoyed teasing him about his lack of inches during break time at school and introducing him to her friends as her, “little brother”, much to his annoyance.
Still, he thought glancing at his watch, six o’clock on a Friday evening, time to go and meet up with his friends.
As he got up to leave Miss Kettering stood in front of him. ‘excuse me but I think you are in my way,’ he sneered flippantly.
Miss Kettering smiled down at him before putting one hand on his shoulder.
"Phew, I know of one little boy who needs a good scrubbing. I think it’s high time you were bathed Lawrence, why don’t you go upstairs, get undressed, and Miss Kettering will run you a lovely hot bath.’ She beamed at him as she spoke.
Lawrence stared up at her, barely believing what he had heard. He almost blushed and then made to brush past her, choosing to ignore her inane comment.
As he tried to side step this formidable woman, Miss Kettering slid her hand down his arm, grasped his wrist and sat herself down on the sofa. Pulling Lawrence off balance, he tottered sideways and he fell conveniently, finding himself draped across her lap.
Lawrence was wearing a pair of his usual combat trousers, but they easily lost the battle with Miss Kettering as she lowered them with an expertise that displayed a talent for exposing naughty little boy's bare bottoms.
Lawrence struggled to remove himself from his embarrassing across her lap, but his arm was pinioned behind his back.
‘Let me go. I will tell mum on you!’
Lawrence’s childish retort made Miss Kettering smile. ‘Don’t you know it’s rude to tell tales,’ she said as she gave his bottom a swat with her hand.
‘Ow! Stop it that hurts!’
‘If that tiny slap hurt I’m afraid you are in for a shock lambikins’
She swatted his backside six more times with her hand. By the third swat Lawrence begun begging her to stop, writhing and squirming on her lap.
Miss Kettering did stop spanking, but kept Lawrence firmly  positioned across her knee, she could hear him breathing heavily and quietly sobbing.
‘Are you regretting being rude Lawrence?’ She asked as she gently ran her hand across his bright pink bottom.
‘Yes I’m regretting it. Not!’
Even though his bottom was stinging, he had recovered some of his misplaced bravado because she had paused his spanking,
Miss Kettering removed one of her slippers and smiled at Susie who watched excitedly from the kitchen doorway.
‘Oh dear,’ she sighed. ‘I did not want to have to do this.’
Lawrence’s body lurched upwards the first time the rubber sole made contact with his bottom, so much so that it took all of Miss Kettering’s skill and expertise to keep him pinioned across her lap.
By the time the tenth spank had been delivered, Lawrence was a crying, sobbing, quivering little boy.
‘I …I...hate you both,’ he sobbed in shame and embarrassment as he hastily pulled up his underwear and trousers before running out of the room.
Susie giggled. ….
‘Did you manage alright dear?’ Asked Miss Kettering.
‘Oh yes Miss Kettering perfect, I’ve put all the numbers on. Do you want to see?’
Susie held up Miss Kettering’s mobile phone.
‘No dear, I prefer to leave all that technology wizardly to you young people, I can’t fathom all those buttons and the interweb thingummy jig thing. I prefer to concentrate on the buttons that ensure naughty boys are dressed correctly when I put them to bed. Now off you go and do as we agreed. We’ll soon have that brother of yours under our complete control, don’t you worry.’
Lawrence, known as Lar to his associates, was sitting on a wall at the corner of the street; he was talking to a boy known as Jona, Susie remembered back to last summer when he was know as Jonathon but whoever he was known as, she was sensible enough to know Lawrence was choosing his friends badly.
‘What do you want? Lawrence asked sourly as Susie approached, concealing an illicit cigarette behind his back.

‘Miss Kettering wants you to come home at once,’ she told him.

‘Or what happens?’ He smirked at Jona, as he spoke.

‘Well, you can’t say I didn’t pass the message on.’

As Susie turned away toward home, she pressed the send button on the mobile in her pocket.

Lawrence’s phone beeped, he looked at the message. It read. Lawrence, come home for your bath at once or your friend will see this.
Then came a five-second clip of Lawrence’s spanking that Susie had of course recorded in full.

Lawrence had turned pale as he viewed the part where Miss Kettering began to spank him with her slipper.

‘What’s happening Lar?’ Asked Jona; trying to peer at Lawrence's phone.

Lawrence was panicked. ‘Oh it’s nothing, I will….’

Jona interrupted him, ‘I’ve got a message now,’ he said fumbling in his pocket as his phone signalled a new message.

Lawrence closed his eyes, dreading what his friends phone was displaying.’

‘Don’t know who this is, do you?’ He asked. ‘Someone called Miss Kettering asking if I was alone yet. Weird.’
Lawrence jumped down from the wall. ‘Just remembered something, got to dash.’

Miss Kettering turned off the taps as the soapy bubbles threatened to spill over the edge of the bath.
She watched patiently as Lawrence slowly and reluctantly undressed.
‘Come along everything, you can’t take a bath with your underpants on can you lambikins?’
Lawrence slid down his grubby undergarment, annoyed at being called a little boy and wondering why she called him lambikins.,
‘Just test the water with your tootsies first, that’s right, now in you get and Miss Kettering will make sure you’re all nice and clean ready for beddy-byes.’
Somewhat in a daze, Lawrence climbed into the bath, trying desperately to cover what he deemed to be his manhood.
‘That’s a good boy, don’t worry, Miss Kettering has seen plenty of naked little boys before’
‘I’m not a little boy, I’m sixteen you stupid woman!’ He exclaimed, fighting back tears.
Miss Kettering smiled. ‘Naughty-naughty, lambikins mustn’t splash Miss Kettering,’ she said as she approached him holding a large wash cloth.
‘I know how excited little boys can get at bath time. First things first, time for a mouth soaping to clean that potty mouth out I think lambikins.’
‘I’m not Lambi…….mmppph!’
Before Lawrence had a chance to continue, the soapy cloth was thrust into his open mouth, gagging him as Miss Kettering began a vigorous mouth soaping.
For the next ten minutes, Miss Kettering explored and cleaned regions that had not seen soap for a very long while.
What he had previously considered to be his private parts received particular attention from her, she pulled and probed at bits and bobs and he yelled and yowed as she did so.
Eventually she turned her attention to his hair, which was divested of all the gel and glutinous substances he had inflicted upon it until finally she pulled out the bath plug, the filthy water quickly gurgled away as she ushered him out of the bathtub, wrapping a large towel around him.
‘There, all shiny and pink, just like little boys are supposed to be.’

Downstairs, Susie examined the newly delivered high-chair with eager anticipation of seeing he wretched brother securely seated in it.


Miss Kettering ushered a naked Lawrence downstairs.

‘Now sit up here,” she said patting the high chair, ‘there’s a good Lambikins.’

Miss Kettering spoke as though it was commonplace for a sixteen year old naked boy to be encouraged to sit in a baby’s high chair.

‘No way am I sitting…’ She slapped the back of his legs to encourage him as he hesitated before before he reluctantly began climbing up.
Susie delightedly started to record the unfolding scene as she carefully concealed the item Miss Kettering had given her earlier.

Miss Kettering swung the feeding tray closed and locked it into position, with his arms pinioned to his side, the hapless boy was immobilised in the infantile item.

‘Now, Lambikins, your sister tells me your mummy has told you several times to get your hair cut  but you have constantly disobeyed her, I am about to remedy that.’

Lawrence squirmed in the chair however his bare bottom created a lot of friction with the wooden surface he was sat upon and he had learned to sit still even before Miss Kettering tied a cape around his neck. The cape was pink, and covered in nursery rhyme characters, this dismayed Lawrence even further but he was not prepared for the horror of seeing his straggly locks begin to tumble to the floor.

‘No please, not all of it I…..’

‘Miss Kettering says little boys should be seen and not heard,’ Susie smugly said as she produced the baby’s dummy Miss Kettering had given her beforehand. Quickly, before he could react, his younger sister popped the dummy into his mouth and stretched the elastic behind his head.

‘Mmmmpphh,’ Lawrence shook his head in a futile attempt to remove the dummy but soon gave up as Miss Kettering delivered two sharp slaps to the inside of his bare legs that resounded with loud smacking noises.

Lambikins squealed, well he would have done were it not for the dummy, instead it was another muffled response of ‘mmmmpphh’.
Lawrence was not completely stupid and, aware of the consequences of disobedience, sat compliantly as she wielded a pair of scissors, seconds later Lawrence was the not so proud owner of the kind of haircut that many a five your old would have been disappointed to have.
No sooner had the cape been removed and the remnants of his late lamented hairstyle cleared up, Susie set down in front of Lawrence a large bowl of milk pudding.
Now, if there was one item of food that Lawrence could not abide it was milk pudding, especially stone cold milk pudding.
He stared down at the creamy mass, his dummy moving in and out in rhythm with his breathing.
It was Susie who slid the elastic up and over his head to free him of the babyish accoutrement.
Lawrence had decided to drop his “tough guy” approach and take a more conciliatory tone.
‘Look here,’ he began. ‘It’s been a good laugh, I can take a joke so why don’t we all just leave it at that and I promise not to tell mum and you two won’t get into any trouble?’
Upon hearing his words, Miss Kettering raised a querulous eyebrow but smiled to herself as, approaching him from behind, she tied a plain white towelling bib around his neck.
‘Din-din time Lambikins,’ she said smoothing down the bib with the palm of her hand.
His attitude changed again immediately.
‘What the…. take this off me at stop that.’  
Susie stopped recording but not because of his pleading, rather it was so she could push the plastic spoon into the glutinous mass and remove a huge creamy spoonful.
‘Open wide Lambikins, here come the choo-choo train,’ Susie intoned in time honoured fashion.
Lawrence attempted to clam his mouth tightly shut but confined the way he was, it was simplicity itself for Susie to pinch his nose and push the dripping spoonful into his mouth, lifting the handle of the spoon as she withdrew it while using two fingers to lift up his chin so that the spoon emerged emptied of it’s content, continuing to lift and close his mouth he was forced to swallow the hateful milk pudding.

Susie continued in this fashion for a few more mouthfuls before Lawrence again decided resistance was futile. ‘There’s a clever Lambikins,’ Susie praised, ‘Open wide, good boy!’
Miss Kettering had emphasised to Susie that good behaviour was to be praised and naughty behaviour was to be punished, in that way naughty boys could be taught to be good little boys, whatever their age.
Susie quickened her pace, ‘open, open, open,’ she commanded as poor Lawrence was forced to swallow spoonful after spoonful of the cold, stodgy milk pudding. Inevitably pudding had dribbled onto his bib and was smeared around his face in crusted recognition of his meal. The last spoonful was a spoonful too far, unable to keep it down, the milky substance oozed back out of his mouth as he choked it back up.
Susie, paused for a moment to sympathise with her older brother.
‘Oh dear Lambikins, oh dear, never mind almost done just this last bit…’
Miss Kettering knew, as she watched young Susie, that the girl was enjoying herself immensely as she proceeded to scoop up the remnants of the pudding from his chin, bib and even the feeding tray itself, and feed those last morsels into her older brothers mouth.
‘There, all gone. You've been a very good Lambikins haven't you? Yes you have.’  
The sixteen year old, confined in the high chair and naked apart from a baby’s bib tied around his neck, actually managed a pathetic smile in response to the praise.
Miss Kettering roughly wiped his face clean with a face cloth, pushed his dummy into his mouth and secured it. She pinched his cheek playfully
‘Well, times getting on, Lambikins, you have been bathed, had a lovely smart haircut and had a delicious supper, now I thinks it’s about time we got you ready for sleepy-byes and tucked into bed don’t you?’
Susie was already scurrying off to fulfill her next part in humiliating her older brother.
The naked Lawrence, shivering slightly as an evening chill set in, shook his head vehemently once more, although, ‘mmmmpphh!’ was all the response he could manage.
Susie returned with an armful of items.
Miss Kettering placed Lawrence's new mittens on the feeding tray of the high-chair.
‘As you can see Lambikins, once I have tied the mittens onto your hands they will be quite useless for even the most simplest of tasks. Holding up one of the mittens, Lawrence could see that the term mitten was tenuous to say the least. A laced leather cuff of about four inches formed the first part of the mitten, attached to the cuff was an orb of white shiny plastic. Miss Kettering tapped the vinyl orb against the plastic feeding tray, as Lawrence's eyes opened wide in disbelief.
She patted his cheek, ‘there, there Lambikins, you're overtired that’s all. You'll soon be tucked up in beddies where you belong.’
Miss Kettering had no problem in putting on his new mittens, trapped as they were beneath the high-chair. As she pushed them onto his hands his fingers were forced to close into a fist to accommodate the small space available and, rather like a boxer, she laced him up and released him from the high chair.
Lawrence waved his arms around frantically aiming a few slaps at Susie and shouting out a series of muffled complaints.
‘Mmmmphh, mmmpphh!’
Susie giggle at her sixteen year old brothers babyish antics waving his arms around whilst trying to complain with his dummy secured in his mouth.
Miss Kettering was not so amused. ‘Naughty Lambikins, hitting your little sister, shame on you, it’s a smacked botty time for you Lambikins.’
Miss Kettering took the still protesting boy across her lap and gave his bare bottom three sharp smacks with the palm of her hand, Lawrence abruptly stopped writhing around and as she stood him down Susie could detect tears welling in the corners of his eyes, still he looked comical, protecting or soothing his bottom with his mittened hands.
‘Don’t you look adorable with your pink botty, now, let’s get you into your jimmy-jams and ready for beddy-byes.’ Miss Kettering cooed in a syrupy style babykins kind of talk adults usually reserve for very young children not a sixteen year old.
Susie was holding a pair of her flannelette pyjamas she had grown out of, they were bright pink and had frilly cuffs and a frilly neckline.
‘I bet you're thinking those are Susie’s pyjamas not mine aren’t you Lambikins?’
Susie observed gleefully, ‘but take a look at this.’ She held up the pyjama top, embroidered in red were the words, Lawrence’s Pyjamas.
‘I took the pyjama top to school and asked Miss Langley to help me do this, just so everyone will know that they’re your pyjama little brother.’ She gloated handing the garments to Miss Kettering.
Lawrence’s head swam; Miss Langley was his form teacher and all the boys had a crush on her.
Miss Kettering took the pyjamas. ‘I see you have ironed them nicely too Susie, just as I asked. You are a great help to me.’ Susie flushed with pride. Looking at Lawrence she said, ‘anything to help my little brother.’
Miss Kettering unbuttoned the pyjama jacket; she held it up and away from her by the shoulders and gave it a small shake.
‘Into your pyjamas now Lambikins, It’s almost your bedtime.’
Responding almost automatically to Miss Kettering’s movement, Lawrence slipped his arms into the pyjama jacket and stood compliantly uncomplaining as Miss Kettering buttoned him up in them.
Lawrence felt the softness of the material as he was enveloped in pink flannelette as Miss Kettering took her time doing up the small Mother of Pearl buttons ensuring the top button was securely fastened before picking up the pyjama bottoms.

Lawrence once again responded to Miss Kettering’s commanding voice and placed his feet inside the proffered openings. Miss Kettering drew the pyjama bottoms up his legs and positioned the elasticised waistband lightly around his midriff. The pyjama bottoms were warm and comforting  and he failed to disguise his unintentional enjoyment the sensation the flannelette material gave him as it caressed his groin.
‘I think our little Lambikins is telling us he approves of his new pyjamas Susie.’
Susie giggled, ‘I think he does too Miss Kettering, although it is only a small approval.’
Miss Kettering laughed at her remark, ‘quite so.’
Susie then said, quite deliberately,  Is it time to show all Lambikins’ friends what he wears to beddy-byes yet Miss Kettering?’
‘Well, let’s get his slippers on first before we decide shall we? We can’t have our pet lamb having cold tootsies.’
Lawrence was struggling to keep up with events, he was aghast and ashamed that the ridiculously girly pyjamas had made him react as he had done so and even more so as Miss Kettering made him shuffle his feet into the bunny rabbit slippers that had also belonged to Susie.
Before he could react Susie had pointed her mobile at him. ‘Oh, that’s a lovely shot, look how cute you looks in your pink jammies.’
Lawrence blushed furiously.

Miss Kettering took Lawrence onto her lap and cuddled him tightly. She gently rubbed the sleeve of his pyjamas and kissed the top of his head.
‘You see Susie, once an unruly boy is snugly dressed in a pair of girls pink pyjamas they calm down at once and become Miss Kettering’s little pet lamb. Aren’t you my sweet?’
She lifted Lawrence's chin with the crook of her finger as she addressed him.
‘Isn’t that right Lambikins?.’
Poor Lawrence was so bewildered he wasn’t sure what to do. Instead he just nodded his head, and then, as he saw Susie looking at him with glee at his predicament he buried his face childishly into Miss Kettering’s fluffy cardigan.
‘Oh. Is my pet lamb tired then? It is way past your beddy-byes time. Susie wants you to get plenty of sleepy-byes time from now on. That will mean bedtime for you will be at six o’clock every school night, at the weekend I will let you stay up until seven o’clock but you will be put into your pyjamas at five o’clock so we can pop you into bed when I think you are overtired..’

Lawrence started to wave his mittened hands around in protest, tears welling in his eyes.
Miss Kettering removed his dummy, ‘did Lambikins want to say something?’

‘Oh please Miss Kettering, please doesn’t make me wear Susie’s pyjamas and go to bed early, I promise to change and be well behaved.’

Miss Kettering sighed, ‘I’m afraid it’s too late for promises Lambikins, you see your mummy will be away for longer than you think,early bedtimes and pink pyjamas are your future. Your life will now be very simply well structured when you come in from school there will be five steps to bedtime.’

Miss Kettering counted off on her fingers.

‘One, pyjama time, that’s straight into freshly ironed, little girls pyjamas for the older boy as soon as you arrive home from school which will be very quick as I will be collecting you from the school gate each evening.

Two, homework time, you sit wearing your pink pyjamas completing all your homework.

Three, suppertime, when you will be fed a healthy meal with plenty of vegetables, there will be no more fast-food nonsense.

Four, quiet time before you go to bed, this will usually be spent sitting on my lap just like now with plenty of hugs and cuddles.

Five, nappy time then sleepy-byes time, that means tucked up in beddy-byes by six at the very latest.’

Lawrence struggled to leave Miss Kettering’s lap, ‘no I won’t, I wont do it.’ He shouted and squirmed on Miss Kettering’s lap. Miss Kettering merely chuckled and drew Lawrence closer to her, tightening her grip and kissing his cheek.
Susie was beside herself with joy. She had always wanted to see her brother spanked and put to bed early and now her wish had come true. Lawrence’s bedtime schedule would give her plenty of opportunities to humiliate him, she thought as she watched him squirm uncomfortably as he tried to escape from Miss Kettering’s lap.

She cleared her throat, ‘shall I send it now?’ Susie asked innocently.

‘Let me see it first,’ Miss Kettering suggested.

Susie pressed play and handed the phone to Miss Kettering who positioned it so she and the softly sobbing Lawrence could see the display. There captured by the wonders of modern technology were all Lawrence's humiliations, well not all as some were still to come.

There was Lambikins being bathed, sitting in his high-chair, being fed his milky pudding, being spanked, being dressed in his pretty pink pyjamas, all the days events neatly condensed.

“Which button do I press to send it to all his friends Susie dear?’ Asked Miss Kettering innocently.

Lawrence’s sobs grew louder, ‘no please not that….’

‘You know Susie, I think we should give our little Lambikins a chance to avoid all his so called friends finding out about his new life. Would you like that Lambikins?’

Lawrence nodded tearfully, he would do anything to avoid his reputation amongst his friends being ruined.

Susie joined in. ‘I know, how about a forfeit, would you consider a little forfeit in return for not sending this footage Lambikins?’  

Still snuggled on Miss Kettering’s lap, Lawrence nodded eagerly and the trap was sprung.

He stood on the small wooden stool, Susie and Miss Kettering sat directly in front of him on the sofa, on Susie’s lap was her old toy record player with the yellow plastic discs. She placed a disc onto the turntable.

‘Ready Lambikins, don’t forget we want to see all the actions. And begin.’

Susie let the disc revolve, the sound was quality was poor but after all it was only meant for babies. Lawrence hesitated and missed his cue.

‘If you don’t join in this time you know the consequences,’ Susie threatened.

As she repeated her actions Lawrence’s thin, barely audible voice joined in with the tune.

‘Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are…’

Miss Kettering suppressed her smile but Susie giggled joyfully.

‘Louder Lambikins, we can’t hear you and look up to the sky, good Lambikins.’

Poor Lawrence stumbled and stuttered his way through the nursery song until the merciful end.

‘Not too bad but we expect better with your second effort. You’ll need this.’

Susie handed him his old Teddy Bear, the one he had not given up sleeping with until he was eight.

Right, off you go again, and plenty of actions this time.’ Susie had taken to the role of directing her brother as well as she had taken to humiliating him.

Lawrence really did give his best effort as he cradled Teddy and sang as instructed…

"Rock-a-bye Teddy in the tree top
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bought breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come Teddy cradle and all"
His voice tailed away, all his anger spent, instead all that was left was a pink pyjama clad humbled sixteen year old who was ready for his beddy-byes.

Susie followed as Miss Kettering led Lawrence, shuffling alongside her  holding her hand, in his pink bunny slippers and pink frilly, girls flannel pyjamas, upstairs to bed. Susie was busy reviewing his vocal performance, that of course she had recorded, when Lawrence's mobile jingled into life with his absurd ring tone.
Susie recognised  the name on the display screen, a malicious smile spread across her face; she was going to enjoy this.
‘Lawrence? Oh no. He won’t be coming over tonight. Why? Because he is being put to bed that’s why. Yes, that’s right, meaning he is already wearing his pyjamas and slippers and at this very moment is going upstairs to be tucked in.’
Susie resisted the temptation to describe the pyjamas Lawrence was wearing.
‘No you can’t speak to him. Actually it is now past  his usual bedtime, of course he has a bedtime didn’t you know? Lawrence has to be in his jimmy-jams and tucked up in beddy-byes very early or he gets terribly cranky. Yes I will tell him to give you a call in the morning, bye.’
Susie shook with excitement. Jenny Phillips had sounded very puzzled by their conversation. Lawrence had fancied her for ages and he had tried to worm his way into her affections by offering to study with her.
Susie imagined it would be very amusing to listen to Lawrence’s explanation next time they met.
By the time Susie caught up with Miss Kettering an amazing sight met her. Lawrence’s TV, DVD and computer had all been removed to the sanctuary of Miss Kettering’s room, meanwhile Miss Kettering had stripped his bed and was busy re-making it while Lawrence stood facing the bedroom wall with his hands on his head.

‘Susie, help me with his bedding will you? Your brother had another little tantrum when I told him about the new cot I have ordered so he has had a smacked botty and is being punished in a suitably childish way.’
Together they made up Lawrence’s bed with a pale pink, Hello Kitty motif duvet set, Susie was quite envious as she felt how soft and fluffy the pillowcases were as she slipped them onto the pillows.
‘Come along Lambikins, into beddy-byes with you.’
Lawrence obediently climbed into bed, altogether a different boy from a few hours ago.
‘That’s right snuggle down.’ Lawrence’s head sank into the softness of the brushed cotton pillowcase. Miss Kettering tucked everything in tightly until she was satisfied Lawrence was securely tucked in.
‘Don’t you feel all snugly-wugly and cosy-cosy pet lamb?’ Miss Kettering asked Lawrence, speaking to him in a humiliating  baby talk voice.
‘You have a lovely long sleepy-byes now and don’t worry if you wake up and feel frightened by the dark. Miss Kettering will be straight along to soothe her little boy with a cuddle and a hug thanks to this baby monitor I have set up. Just one little sound and I shall be in to see you. Of course if I find you out of beddy-byes without permission it will be smacked botty time again, do you understand?’
Lawrence managed a little nod of his head. Susie enjoyed herself by gently tucking the pink, brushed cotton sheet under his chin and giving his cheek a peck on the cheek.
‘Nighty-night little brother,’ she teased, ‘it’s seven’ clock now. You should have been fast asleep an hour ago, no wonder you are so cranky.’
She couldn’t resist one final remark. ‘Oh, by the way Jenny Phillips rang while you were being spanked; I told her you were in your pyjamas and being put to bed and that you would give her a call tomorrow, is that alright?’
Lawrence’s eyes opened wide with fright and his mouth struggled to speak.
Miss Kettering fumbled in the pocket of her fluffy cardigan.
‘Miss Kettering has a little treat for her bunnykins,’ she said and popped a new pink baby’s dummy into his surprised mouth as he was just about to protest.
Gently she lifted his head from the pillow and secured the dummy with the elastic.
Miss Kettering ignored Lawrence’s muffled whimpers as she blotted out the daylight by closing the bedroom curtains.

As the door closed, Lawrence blinked away tears and stared into the darkness, little did he know that this day had begun his descent into a future of nappies, dummies, cot’s and early bedtimes and that, with his mum’s approval, Miss Kettering and his young sister would dominate his life for a long time to come.