Punished in Footed Pyjamas

Mrs Jacobson is a great believer in using footed pyjamas as a punishment. She particular likes the snowman winceyette footed pyjamas she gave me one Christmas as they have a drop-seat to enable her to administer spankings as she sees fit.

Corner time to reflect on my bad behaviour.

The aftermath of going across Mrs Jacobson's lap for my spanking.

Aunty bought me the Eeyore footed pyjamas for me to wear when we take tea in the garden during the later summer months. She doesn't want me to catch a chill so insists I wear my footsies as I sit on the rug at Mrs Jacobson and my aunt's feet.

Due to an unexpected snowstorm, we were once forced to spend the night with Miss Jacobson's niece Melissa. Aunty and Miss Jacobson still wanted me ready for bed early so Melissa lent me these floral footed winceyette pyjamas for the night. It was decided I could stay up until eight o'clock as Melissa thought I looked "cute" wearing her pyjamas and when we left she gave me them as a gift. Aunty likes me to wear them when she has guests as she says I am more obedient  when wearing floral pyjamas.

A Pyjama Punishment Monthly letter.

Dear Nanny Smackbottom

My son is 17 - a young 17 - small and very slight. He has been out of school for the past year which is when his behaviour began to deteriorate, he went to visit my sister in the Lake District where stories filtered back of his unruly and undesirable behaviour, reflecting badly on me and the way I had brought him up.

My sister sent him commanded him home to me and phoned with a full report of his poor discipline and manners. His attitude upon his return home was equally poor, becoming quite cock-sure and he began to give me back-chat during my attempts to question him about his behaviour.

This I will not tolerate hence my decision to return him to a position where he was under my control in an attempt to remind him of his status in our home.

I like him to be prepared for bed before seven o’clock begin so I can enjoy the evening in peace without his nonsense. Nine times out of ten this usually means him being physically prepared for bed by me, a time-saving device to minimise time and fuss. I have a warning system and two warnings not responded to mean I will take over his bedtime preparations meaning he is bathed and put into his pyjamas ready for bedtime, he becomes  fractious when mummy undresses him but a drop of lavender and Camomile baby lotion in his bath water
works a treat in order to calm and settle him down.

He is put to bed at eight o’clock wearing his babyish winceyette pyjamas. Steven greatly resents being put back into pyjamas as he was used to wearing boxer shorts to bed but I prefer to see him properly attired for sleepy-time as he was as a child. My sister has kindly made him blue pyjamas with bunny rabbits on which are very babyish and sweet, which add to his shame. 

At weekends I keep him dressed in pyjamas enabling me the possibility of putting him to bed at any time of day when his behaviour is deemed unacceptable. It is a great way to remind him of his new infantile status and also put an immediate stop to him storming out of the house.

He has a soft plush Teddy Bear which he has had since a child and I am endeavouring to bring it into an active role in his bedtime regime, along with perhaps a dummy and a blanket as he always used to carry those around as a toddler. I was wondering if you could make further suggestions as to how I could enhance his new found infantile status?

Regards

Mrs P

Sissy Babykins Frilly Pink Pyjamas and slippers

Sissy Babykins had had a busy day so nanny told him he had to get ready for beddy-byes the moment they returned from feeding the ducks in the park. Sissy protested that he wasn't tired in the least and that 4 pm was far too early for Babykins to be ready for bed. Nanny wasn't in the mood to put up with any nonsense and tugged down Sissy's short-all before putting Babykins across her lap for a sound over the knee spanking.

"Is Babykins going to be a good little sissy for his nanny?" She demanded. Sissy Babykins sobbed his little heart out as he nodded that yes, he would a good little Sissy and do as nanny told. "There-there little one, let's get you bathed and into your jim-jams shall we?" Nanny led the still sobbing Babykins by the hand and gave him a lovely soapy bubble bath.

By the time Nanny had finished he was giggling and laughing again as Nanny played the tickling game as she dried him with a big pink fluffy towel. "Come along now, that's quite enough laughter. I want you in pyjamas by the time mummy gets home. See the pretty jim-jams nanny has chosen for you to wear? They are lovely and cosy and frilly and pink, just perfect for a Sissy Babykins, aren’t they sweet? Sissy Babykins didn’t say anything but he was a good little Sissy as Nanny stepped him into his pyjama bottoms and buttoned up his pyjama jacket.

"Here are your lovely new slippers, just right for keeping your tootsie-wootsies lovely and warm too. Put them on Sissy, there’s a good Babykins." Once Babykins was pyjamaed and slippered Nanny sat him upon her knee and give him a big cuddle for being a good Babykins. A lovely baby bottle of warm milk followed and soon Babykins eyes began to droop as Nanny gently rocked him to sleepy-byes.

The key turned in the door. Mummy was home. "Oh mother, he looks adorable in those pyjamas and slippers, and fast asleep too. No don't wake him; it's almost 6 pm, why don't you put him straight to bye-byes. It's funny; the day we got married I told him he would be spending a lot of his time in bed. Of course, he thought I meant the two us together, silly Sissy Babykins.

Phillip Jones sent an account of his childhood early bedtime upbringing

My mother was determined to keep me as, ‘her little boy’ for as long as possible.
I had to call her mummy at all times and was not allowed to progress from wearing my schoolboy short trousers.

Can you imagine the embarrassment of a boy of fourteen years of age wearing grey flannel short trousers along with a  white school shirt, tie and grey knee-socks? Any protest on my part would result in a trip across mothers lap for a bare bottom spanking.

What was even worse than attending school dressed as a little boy was having to wear this uniform out of school too. I was often taken visiting in my schoolboy uniform to my aunt's house, I always felt very foolish as my cousin Daisy, who was a year younger than me would tease me about my appearance.

My bedtime throughout this period was 6.30 pm which remained the same up until 
I left home, again if I made a fuss I would be disciplined and threatened with an even earlier bedtime of 6 o’clock which meant I would have had to be in my pyjamas by 5 o’clock as mummy always insisted an hours ‘quiet time” in pyjamas before bedtime.

My cousin, aunts, neighbours and obviously my sister Wendy have all seen me being put across mummy's lap before being dispatched to bed. My cousin even today teases me about how they used to enjoy watching as mummy undressed me and put me into my little boy striped pyjamas ready for bed, sometimes I was so upset I wet the bed and then mummy would think nothing of pinning me into a nighttime nappy and plastic pants with a dummy and a bedtime bottle of milk then put me into one of my sisters hand-me-down  pink winceyette nightdresses to teach me that if I behaved like a baby I would be treated as one.

I was 16 before I tried to rebel Mummy. I remember mummy said, “Come along Phillip, it’s five thirty, time to get you bathed and into your jimmy-jams ready for bed.”

I complained, saying that it was so unfair that my sister was allowed normal teenage clothes, and that she was allowed to go out at the weekends. and had no bedtime, indeed she could go to bed any time she liked.

Mummy told me that my behaviour and attitude was very childish, that is why she still treat me like a silly, naughty little boy and that I was the type of male who would always need strict guidance from a female.

So her dominance continued. Mother even handpicked a girlfriend for me, it was someone I knew from Sunday school, but she got frustrated as we could not go out for very long because of my early bedtimes but she became good friends with mother who began paying her to act as my babysitter, she even began to spank me and get me ready for bed even earlier than mother did, sometimes she would put me into pyjamas by 4 pm and have me tucked up into bed before 5 pm, many times I would cry myself to sleep.

It was not until I left home that I met other women. As you can imagine, as an inexperienced shy 22 year old, I had some disastrous relationships, but then I met a girl who later became my wife. 

She was different from the rest and I knew from the beginning she was a woman who enjoyed being with me despite my timid nature.

One night in bed, she began to ask me about my childhood and then it all came out and I explained my strict upbringing. My wife said that now she knew the truth she understood things that had puzzled her about my personality and asked if I was perhaps secretly wanting to revisit the rigid discipline of my youth.

She became good friends with my mother and discovered all the details about my upbringing and how I was kept under strict early bedtime and pyjama discipline.

Her first act was to reintroduce my pyjama times and early bedtimes and began treating me like a little boy again, I even have some grey shorts. My mother-in-law is now my babysitter and I now have three women who tuck me in and kiss me goodnight.

Cosy footed pyjamas, just the thing for a British summer

My weekend of pyjama punishment at my aunts.

Having been under the weather again early last week I arrived at my aunt's on Wednesday evening. Almost immediately I felt better than I had and decided to take a stroll into the village and visit the local hostelry for a refreshing beer. 

Unfortunately, Mrs Jacobson was having none of it and suggested to my aunt that instead of alcohol, I needed a weekend of strict pyjama discipline and early bedtimes. 

My aunt readily agreed and after a bath, I was woman-handled into a pair of striped winceyette pyjamas, this, however, was just the beginning and despite my frequent objections I spent the weekend being changed into various pyjamas both male and female. 

Each time I was the recipient of a fresh pyjamaring I was given a time-out to be served with hands on my head before being tucked into bed.

Corner time on Wednesday afternoon in my striped winceyette pyjamas that I had packed followed by an early bedtime instead of a visit to the village pub 

My aunts book club members admired my

blue Paisley winceyette pyjamas as I endured a very public corner time on Thursday  morning 

Red oversized Paisley winceyette pyjamas for supper at Mrs Jacobson's on Thursday before bedtime at 4.30

Mauve flannelette footed pyjamas. Miss Jacobson thought it was chilly on Friday afternoon so I was dressed in footed pyjamas for afternoon tea in the garden

Aunty made me wear one of her pink frilly winceyette nighties for my afternoon nap on Saturday

In my nightie and dressing gown after my nap

Ready for bed at 5 pm on Saturday afternoon wearing pink floral flannelette pyjamas. Miss Jacobson says I suit frilly cuffs and collars and she will try and find more pyjama like these for me.

Kept in Pyjamas again

When Phillip's mother educated his young wife into the efficacy of pyjama and early bedtime discipline 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 floral pyjamas in the marital home at all times and learning how to be courteous and respectful to all females. Once his daily chores were fulfilled to the satisfaction of his wife Phillip was dispatched to bed early with a well spanked bottom.

More, Kept in Pyjamas

Due to my mother's financial constraints, I have been forced to attend a university about twenty miles from my hometown. To further save on costs I have to lodge with my mother’s longstanding friend Miss Hardacre. This was all bad enough, but upon my arrival, I was informed by Miss Hardacre that because I would be living rent free I must abide strictly to her house rules or find myself homeless and unable to further my education. 

All went well at first until just before teatime on my second day. Miss Hardacre announced that she would prefer that from now on pyjamas were to be my mode of dress while taking tea. I was dumbfounded and protested vigorously that not only would I not wear pyjamas, but also I did not even own any pyjamas to wear.

Miss Hardacre reminded me of the house rules and insisted that she would provide night attire for me and that I would be wise to do as I was told. She told me to start removing my clothes while she went to fetch something suitable. Of course, I ignored her and continued with my tea. Upon her return, she had a pair of pink floral winceyette pyjamas draped over her arm.

Calmly, she laid them neatly over the back of a dining chair, grabbed and twisted my right earlobe until I squealed with pain, sat herself down on the pyjama-laden chair while remaining firmly attached to my earlobe and hauled me over her lap. Being small and very lightweight for my age I was easily overpowered by my aunty who in no time managed to lower my trousers by an act of dexterity I am yet unable to define and my bottom was subjected to a severe and painful spanking.  

Two minutes later I was sobbing gently as Miss Hardacre finished buttoning me into the pink winceyette pyjamas.

‘I think,’ she said, ‘in future, it will be best if you put your pyjamas on as soon as you come in each afternoon, don’t you? Then there will be less chance of tears before bedtime.’

Now I have a strict bedtime of six o’clock. Upon my arrival home from studying, I must dash upstairs, pick up the pyjamas that have been laid out on my bed and present myself to Miss Hardacre so she can get me ready for ‘beddy-byes.’ If I only have to attend a morning lecture I find myself dressed in pyjamas and ready for bed sometimes as early as eleven o’clock. She has taken to calling me ‘Baby Lamb’ and insists I refer to her as ‘Aunty’

On Saturdays, she escorts me to the local library where her friend Miss Lexicon is the head librarian. Once hidden away in her inner office I have to change into pyjamas and slippers and study while my aunt goes shopping, taking my clothes with her. If Miss Lexicon catches me not studying she will spank me and inform my aunt who repeats the dose when we return home.

Sometimes on the way back, we stop at a tea- shop where aunty meets a few of her friends. Invariably she will tell me in front of them all that, “I want you straight into your jim-jams as soon as we get home.” She always raises laughter by brandishing my library pyjamas and informing all and sundry that, “Baby Lamb looks ever so sweet in his pretty pyjamas.” 

I thought at least I would gain support from my mother, that if she knew what was occurring she would put a stop to this nonsense. Not a bit.

One Sunday Aunty insisted I answer the door even though I was wearing pink winceyette pyjamas and a pink nylon tabard that I was forced to wear to keep my pyjamas, “neat and tidy.” In my hand was a yellow duster as Sunday was designated my day for helping aunty with household chores.

Mother smiled sweetly at me as she bent forward to kiss my cheek. ‘You look, nice dear,’ she said patting my pyjama- clad bottom as she followed me in.

She would not listen to my objections as to my treatment and sides with Miss Hardacre on every point. In fact, the two of them became so angry with me that I was spanked and given an hours corner time.

A few weeks later, I started to receive parcels from members of my mother’s sewing circle containing pairs of pyjamas that she had asked them to make for me. These new pyjamas were of a style more suited to a young girl, very frilly with Peter Pan collars and decorated with childish patterns.

Aunties insisted I sat down and write a thank you letter to everyone.

Dear Aunty, 

Thank you ever so much for the lovely pyjamas you made for me. I was delighted to receive such a thoughtful present, and look forward to wearing them for you when you next visit.

My aunt and my mother now frequently force me to parade around in a succession of frilly, babyish girls’ pyjamas while my mother and her sewing circle discuss the merits of babyish girls’ pyjamas as an effective means of discipline. If I am lucky, I am allowed to kiss everyone night-night and scuttle off to bed without receiving a spanking for some imagined indiscretion. 


If I am unlucky, I will be allowed to “stay up late” and endure an hour of being sat upon various laps and fussed over in a most humiliating way before I would find myself over someone’s lap receiving a spanking before being dispatched to bed. The next day, however, I would put to bed at five o’clock because I was overtired because of lack of sleep the previous night.