Sissy Babykins Pyjamaed and Spanked

When Phillip's mother educated his young wife into the efficacy of pyjama and early bedtime punishment she could never dream that her daughter-in-law would embrace her philosophy so enthusiastically. Soon Phillip was inducted into a strict regime that entailed him wearing sissy pyjamas in the marital home at all times and quickly became her pyjamaed Sissy Babykins. He soon learned to become courteous and respectful to all females and his wife often invited her aunt and her friend Miss Golightly, to assist in his training. All the ladies have the right to spank Babykins when they see fit and once his daily chores are fulfilled to the satisfaction of everyone Sissy Babykins is dispatched to bed very early with a well spanked bottom.

Mrs Sykes-Patterson has kindly contributed photos of her husband Lionel in his ridiculous looking, over-sized punishment pyjamas. Here also, is her account of one of Lionel's pyjamarings at the hands of the youthful Miss Jones.

Dear Wincy,

I thought I would share the recent and not entirely unexpected punishment of my husband, Lionel at the hands of Mrs Clark's sewing circle members. This, of course, came about as a result of his silly comments regarding those same fine upstanding women.

The monthly meeting had to be held at Mrs Clark's house as the village hall had been double booked with the Scottish dancing society.

Lionel was occupied polishing the bottoms of my saucepans in the kitchen but was summoned curtly following a discussion of the sewing article in the current "People's Friend" magazine.

“"Lionel, come in here for a moment. Miss Jones, our junior member, has been working on a project entitled, "Effective Pyjamaring for the Disobedient Male". I am advising you as the only disobedient male present,  that you are about to receive a thorough pyjamaring and will model Miss Jones" creative efforts without complaint. The other ladies will naturally be taking pictures or videos with their mobile phones to study the finer points of your pyjamaring at their leisure.”

Lionel was then informed that Miss Jones had been shown the e-mails and comments that had passed between Wincy"s Aunt, Eunice and Mrs Clark. She had used these as inspiration to design a pair of pyjamas with which he was to be "pyjamaed".

Lionel"s face was a picture of embarrassment as Miss Jones took a large, brown paper parcel out of her sewing holdall and opened it to reveal a pair of neatly folded, red striped winceyette pyjamas.

Miss Jones cleared her throat nervously before beginning.

”"Ladies, thank you for giving me this opportunity to present my findings. To be clear, my ultimate focus is simply to achieve the ultimate humiliation of the surly male and I have chosen to design a pair of traditionally striped pyjamas as a way of achieving this. Now that men who are not supervised by responsible females, choose to wear such monstrosities as, "lounge pants" and T-Shirts as night attire, the requirement for right thinking females such as ourselves, is to emancipate and humiliate the so-called modern man by ensuring he is attired for bed fully buttoned into an oversized pair of old-fashioned ridiculous looking, striped pyjamas whilst being paraded around in front of respectable ladies”

She paused, then politely asked if Lionel would possibly mind in assisting her by trying the aforementioned pyjamas on for her and wearing them in front of the sewing group so her pyjama project could be properly appreciated.

Mrs Sykes-Paterson, as usual, was quick to interject.

“My dear Miss Jones you do not need to request Lionel"s participation, instead, you firmly order him to comply with your wishes. Observe.”

Mrs Sykes-Patterson fixed her intimidating stare on the quivering Lionel.



“Lionel, remove your clothes and prepare to be fully pyjamaed by Miss Jones. Come along, quickly now,
unless you want a visit across my knee?” 

An embarrassed Lionel shook his head, unsure of what was transpiring and a trifle frightened of his wife and the other intimidating females. Without warning, Mrs Sykes Patterson suddenly grabbed his wrist and positioned him across her lap. Swiftly, she lowered his trousers and undergarments to reveal his very pale, flabby backside. Six rapid spanks later he stood trembling, partly through shock at what had just occurred and partly because it was quite chilly without any clothes as he stood pathetically hiding his modesty behind cupped hands.

 “Lionel, Miss Jones will now begin your pyjamaring so she needs to ascertain if any adjustments to your lovely new pyjamas are necessary" Now, kneel down so that she does not need to stand and remember that as a silly, worthless male who is about to receive a thoroughly deserved pyjamaring, you will not speak unless spoken to.” 

How delightfully awful it was to see the red-faced miscreant kneeling in front of the youthful and very attractive Miss Jones. Her crisp, white cotton blouse, complete with cameo brooch at the collar, strained around her ample bosom as she shook out the striped pyjama jacket and proceeded to hold it up against Mr SP.

"Oh dear, I am afraid this pyjama jacket going to be far too large for you Mr Sykes-Paterson, but let us try shall we?” 

After fastening the top button of the jacket and adjusting the collar to sit smartly, it was clear that,
 "too large" was an understatement. In the kneeling position, both the wide sleeves and jacket hem almost reached the carpet. To Miss Jones surprise, the ladies murmured their approval at his appearance, happy that this silly man was beginning to appreciate the humiliation of being pyjamaed.
Unfortunately for him. it was to become much worse.

"Stand up now Lionel, so that I can assess the fit of the trousers? Without a pattern to work from, I based the sizing on gentleman's trousers from the 1940’s, so the openings at the bottom have a 24" hem which I hope is not too wide".

Miss Jones proceeded to prepare the pyjama bottoms for the next stage of the pyjamaring by pushing her arm down inside a trouser leg and gripping the bottom, she rolled it into a short tube.

“Why don't you place one leg and then the other on my lap so that I can roll the trousers over your leg easily?"

As he stood there, balancing on one leg with the lovely Miss Jones adjusting the flapping material, it was apparent that the voluminous trousers with their low cut crotch were hiding certain "stirrings".

Mrs Harbury was quick to note the tell-tale protuberance through the folds of Lionel’s pyjama trousers and in a swift movement that belied her age, picked up the silver cake slice and delivered several sharp blows to the offending bulge. Lionel howled in pain, hopping from one foot to the other with pyjama sleeves flapping wildly. The ladies nodded in joint approval as he was reprimanded severely by Mrs H.

"You ungrateful naughty man. Miss Jones is now quite embarrassed at your display of male impropriety, get back down on your knees, put your hands on your head and apologise.”

Lionel was contrite and spoke in a barely audible whisper.  "Please Miss Jones, I am very sorry, my new pyjamas are lovely and I look forward to being dressed in them and wearing them for beddy-byes. I am a very naughty male and deserve to be punished"
Mrs Harbury towered above the cowering Lionel as she informed him.

“You will present yourself across the laps of each of the ladies present and receive six smacks on your bottom from all of us.”

Slowly and regretfully, Lionel made his way around the room and soon his pyjama clad bottom was smarting from his spankings.

"Now Lionel,” continued Mrs Harbury. “Stand up straight for me so that the other ladies can see you weeping like a little boy and standing there in your oversized pyjamas.”

She proceeded to undo the trouser cord, pull the waist of the bottoms up to his armpits before firmly tightening it again and letting the jacket cascade down to knee level.

"Oh my goodness,” exclaimed Miss Jones in disappointment. “The pyjamas are sadly far too large and appear huge on Lionel, I'm so sorry ladies, I feel that I've let you down, my sizing estimates are all wrong.”

Mrs Sykes-Patterson felt the need to interject.

"Nonsense, Miss Jones, I consider them to be a triumph in the art of pyjamaring!  I don't feel that any adjustments are needed at all.  Look how ridiculous Lionel obviously feels encased in folds of striped winceyette. Lionel, would you please be so kind as to parade yourself through the living room in order that we ladies can admire Miss Jones" handiwork in greater detail?"

What fun the ladies then had as the poor man flapped and tripped his way through to the lounge, unsuccessfully attempting to hold up his billowing pyjama trousers with his hands hidden inside flapping sleeves. Various ladies tugged and pulled at his pyjamas in appraisal as he passed along them before finally it was time for Lionel to pose for pictures.

"Lionel, please stand in the corner of the lounge while the ladies take photographs of you for their records.

"Lionel was made to adopt various positions for ten minutes whilst the ladies captured him posing in his ridiculous oversized, red striped winceyette pyjamas as every humiliating comment caused him evermore embarrassing.


"Doesn't he look ridiculous in those enormous wide-bottomed trousers?"

And, "Won’t he struggle to eat breakfast with those long sleeves in the way? He'll need to be fed with a spoon like a baby."

Then, “Imagine him opening the front door to the post woman wearing those?"

Finally, the ladies finished the photo session and Lionel thought his afternoon ordeal was finally over.

Lionel turned to his wife and asked. "Please dearest, may I be allowed to take off my new pyjamas and put on my jeans and t-shirt?"

His wife looked at him with disdain.

“Don't look so relieved Lionel, your pyjamaring isn't over yet you ridiculous man. Mrs Watts and Mrs Harbury will escort you to the naughty boy bedroom for an early bedtime. Mr Watts has already been pyjamaed by Miss Jones and been tucked into bed wearing his new pyjamas with a very sore bottom and crying pitifully with good reason I might add. Both of you are to have your pyjama punishment extended for the entire weekend for the entertainment of the sewing circle. Believe me, from now on you will be subject to a strict pyjama time and early bedtime regime which will ensure your obedience. ”

Mrs Watts and Mrs Harbury, each took hold of Lionel’s hand and led him away to begin his pyjama clad servitude.

Regards

Mrs Sykes-Patterson

Pyjama time again?

Ollie finds himself returned to the days of his childhood by his two Aunts.

“I...I..don’t know what h..h..happened, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I have done this.” Oliver felt tears begin to well up just like they used to when he had similar “accidents” when he was a boy. Except, of course, he wasn’t a boy anymore, he was thirty-two. 

The two women exchanged wry smiles. Aunt Agatha took his arm and Aunt Ingrid the other.

“There, there Ollie, don’t you worry about anything, we will look after you won’t we Agatha? It will be like old times.”

It had been many years since he had been called Ollie, not since he had disappointed his two Aunts and left behind the childhood comforts they had provided for him.

His Aunts led him upstairs to the familiarity of his childhood bedroom.

You are obviously sickening for something so we need to get you cleaned up and tucked into bed as quickly as possible.

Ingrid opened the chest of drawers that stood in the corner, he noticed they were still situated in the same place as she withdrew and held a pair of blue striped winceyette pyjamas to her face; they were cold and creased.

“These will do nicely for the doctor's visit once they have been ironed and warmed,” Ingrid said brightly as she hurried off to her task.

Meanwhile, Oliver stood barefoot on cold linoleum as Aunt Agnes removed his t-shirt and soaking underpants. He was embarrassed by his distinct lack of any pubic hair and his small appendage that undermined his protestations of being “a big boy now” as Aunty washed him none too gently with a damp flannel. 

He watched over Aunt Agnes’ shoulder as Aunt Ingrid returned carrying a pink rubber hot-water bottle in her hand and his now freshly ironed pyjamas folded over her arm.

The hot water bottle emitted a childhood odour of warm rubber that filtered into his nostrils as he watched Aunt Ingrid place it into his bed and turn to confront his nakedness with an unbuttoned pyjama jacket.

Aunt Ingrid draped the pyjama jacket around his shoulders. Oliver had forgotten how comforting a warmed, freshly ironed pair of pyjamas felt and as she began to button up the jacket he gave an involuntary shudder. Aunt Ingrid smiled. 

“Does that feel nice and cosy Ollie?” She cooed as she buttoned him up to the neck.

The pyjama jacket hung loosely on his slender frame; the length of the sleeves had hidden his hands as Aunt Ingrid held the pyjama bottoms open at his feet and shook them impatiently. Oliver stepped into them and shuddered once again as he felt the warm winceyette slowly encompass his legs and then his groin. Aunty Ingrid drew the pyjama bottoms up over the pyjama jacket and tied the pyjama cord into a neat bow. 

“There now Ollie,” she said, “how smart you look in your freshly ironed jim-jams, don't you just love being all cosy and warm?'

He nodded agreement in a half-hearted manner, reluctant to confirm how safe and secure he felt once again enveloped in blue striped winceyette pyjamas.

Aunt Ingrid hugged him tightly in her arms. “What a good boy Ollie has been, hasn’t he Aunty Agnes?”

She laughed as she took his hand and led him across to the bed where Aunt Agnes stood beside the iron-framed bed holding back the bedclothes.

“Into bed with you Ollie,” Aunt Agnes said as she guided him into bed, 'back where you belong in cosy jim-jams and beddy-byes. She pulled the heavy bedclothes over him, tucking him tightly in. 

“We have missed you so much Ollie, it was a mistake to ever let you leave but now you've returned we expect you to remain with us now for a very long time to come.”

A bedtime spanking administered by a younger sister