Pyjamaed Public Schoolboys Punished By Matron

Jeff, PP and John had pranked the boys in the adjacent dorm rather spiffingly earlier that week and PJ Tradman minor and the rest of his gang had vowed revenge. Jeff and his two pals had spent the previous two evenings on high alert relying on their ever trustworthy knotted scarfs as weapons of defence. With Matron Goodknight ever vigilant and liable to make a surprise inspection, the boys had sensibly always changed into their black and white striped pyjamas before climbing between the sheets. (This being the nineteen twenties, colour had yet to be developed)

After all, by Jove, they were English and destined one day to step into their father’s striped pyjamas and rule the Empire. Although it was a chill night and being an English public school no heating existed in the dormitories the boys always slept with the windows open as they were well insulated clad as they were in warmest winceyette.

It was very late, almost nine thirty, Jeff and John began to relax just as they had the previous two nights at this time, PJ would never lead an attack at this ungodly hour. PP was already snoring as Jeff loosened his grip on his scarf and looked forward to holding something else as he began to snuggle down. “Night PP,” he said in his masterful tone. 

“Night Jeff old thing,” answered John, the admiration he felt for the skipper evident in his voice. Suddenly, the window lifted and PJ’s pyjama clad mob clambered through led by Speccy Sanderson, the fight was on!

In a flash, PJ Tradman and his bunch of rotters fell upon the plucky trio. Jeff quickly pulled up his pyjama bottoms and leapt into action along with his trusted fellows. Quickly realising that their scarves were useless against their foes pillows, Jeff, showing his gift for command, that John and PP so much admired, ordered his troops to raise pillows and engage the enemy. 

Soon the air was thick with feathers and it became difficult to distinguish pyjamaed friend from pyjamaed foe as the battle raged.  Suddenly a large shaped figure loomed menacingly in front of John and he swung his pillow with all his force, certain that he was just about to remove Fatty Forster from the fray.

For a split second the air cleared and John, to his horror, realised that the portly figure in front of him was not the aforementioned Master Forster but was, in fact, Matron herself Mrs Knight.

"What is the meaning of this! Desist at once!" The sound of that familiar voice brought the fracas to an immediate halt, the airborne feathers drifted gently to the floor as the flannelled fools 

all turned toward the angry face of Matron who stood, definitely not amused, in her voluminous Victorian-like, winceyette nightgown.

Mrs Knight lined up the boys in her study, her stern demeanour did not bode well for them. She had been joined by her housemistress Miss Ashbourne who had become aware of the disorder.

All present were wearing their nightwear due to the lateness of the hour. The boys in their striped flannelette pyjamas, Mrs Knight in her pale pink, buttoned to the neck floral winceyette nightdress and fur collared slippers and Miss Ashbourne, whose white silk nightgown and fluffy mule slippers made a most incongruous contrast to the rest of the night attire on display. 

Pj Tradman and his motley crew were wearing their tartan slippers, but Jeff, PP and John were standing on the cold linoleum floor barefoot as Mrs Knight walked down the line of assembled boys.

“I don’t know what prompted this disgraceful behaviour, nor do I want to know. However, I must say how disappointed I am in your involvement in all this Jeff.”

Jeff felt his lower lip quiver, he hated letting Mrs Knight down. PJ smirked and whispered, “cry-baby.”

Miss Ashbourne demanded silence. She grabbed PJ by the ear and brought him forward.

“This one first I think Matron, give me your slipper Tradman,” she demanded. Perhaps now regretting his snide remark, PJ Tradman was bent over the arm of the couch and received six swats to his backside from Miss Ashbourne with his own slipper before being sent tearfully back to his dormitory.

John was next to receive his spanking. Miss Ashbourne used her own mule slipper to administer his punishment and although it hurt terribly and he had to fight back the tears, he felt somewhat excited by the experience and felt an urgent need to return to bed. As he made for the door he felt a tickle in his nose. “Atishoo!” He sneezed violently.

“Oh, dear John. I hope you’re not getting a cold by roaming barefoot in the middle of the night? I best come and tuck you in properly,” she took John by the hand and led him hurriedly away.

Finally, there was left just Jeff and Mrs Knight alone in her rooms. “Well Jeff, as I expected higher standards from you I am afraid your punishment will be double that of the others.”

Jeff had recovered his composure and was determined to accept his punishment like a man and prepared to take his position across the arm of the couch.

“One moment please Jeff.” Mrs Knight approached him and reached for the drawstring on his pyjama bottoms. “I intend to spank you on your bare bottom.”

Jeff was taken aback but stood as his pyjama bottoms puddled on the floor around his feet. He shuffled awkwardly to the couch and bent over.

“You may stand.” Twelve times Mrs Knight’s rubber-soled slipper had struck him, six on each buttock. Despite his best intentions, he felt a tear roll down his cheek as he bent to pull up his pyjama bottoms. Mrs Knight dabbed it away with her handkerchief.

“Goodnight Jeff, I do hope that will teach you not to be a naughty boy again.”

Jeff thought not, he had rather enjoyed being naughty.