I found this on the internet a long time ago. It was originally titled "Getting a Good Education" and had an author title of Peter Michael. I have tried to find it again on the internet but was unable too.

My wife had to do a training course in Brussels that was to last for two months. She decided that she didn’t want to leave me alone at home because I was unable to even operate the washing machine let alone manage a household. It was fair to say I was very immature and often behaved in a rather childish way still. It was decided I needed a guardian so she decided to send me to her widowed sister Agnes who is her elder by 10 years. At six foot two, Agnes was even taller than my wife and towered over my diminutive stature. Arriving in my new home she showed me to my new room. It was that of her now grown up daughter who now lived in Peterborough. It was a typical girls' room, it still had dolls propped on the pink covered bed and a wardrobe full of girl's clothes.  At first I was inclined to protest against having to stay in a child’s bedroom but of course I held my tongue and muttered something about the room being quite suitable. My sister-in-law began to unpack my suitcase. “Hmm… you appear to have forgotten to bring pyjamas.” She said scornfully. That was not possible...but finally I saw she was right: I had been in a terrible hurry when I had been packing my suitcase and I had indeed forgotten my pyjamas. She went to open the wardrobe of her daughter and took out two pairs of pyjamas one white, one blue. Some infantile cute teddy bears smiled at me from the blue pair and the white pair was adorned with pink flowers. They were without doubt very childish girls pyjamas. I blushed; she could not want me to wear these surely? But yes, it was no joke! "Because you didn't pay attention when you packed your suitcase you will put your pyjamas on at once." she scolded. “That will teach you a lesson!” It was only 3 pm and I was being made to put on girl’s pyjamas. She began to undress me, unbuttoning my shirt and lowering my trousers. Frozen with shame and embarrassment I stood there as she buttoned me into the floral patterned pyjama jacket. “ There, now you are auntie’s pretty little girl,” she teased as she stepped me into the pyjama bottoms and pulled them up. As her daughter was also a tall girl the pyjamas were too large and she carefully turned back the sleeves a little. The pyjamas were warm winceyette ones and as I was enveloped in the cosy fabric, I am ashamed to admit that I felt comfortable wearing them. My "aunt" smiled at me and gave me a tight hug that somehow made me feel very safe and secure. She assured me that we would have a wonderful time together and led me by the hand into the kitchen where I was I told to sit down and fill in a page of the colouring book that aunty gave me. “Colour a nice picture for aunty sweetheart while I prepare your supper,” she instructed me. I was given my meal at 4.30 pm and was then told it was time for me to go to “beddy-byes.” I told her I normally went to bed at 11 pm or even later, but she laughed and said, “for the duration of your stay you will be dressed in your little girls pyjamas at all times when you are in the house and go to bed by 5 pm at the latest, I will read to you for 15 minutes, my daughter has left many wonderful books for little girls, you will then snuggle down to sleepy-byes. If you do not behave and do exactly as I say you will be spanked and I may find the need to put you to bed much earlier or perhaps I might make you take an afternoon nap.” Let me show you what will happen if you disobey me, come here.” She tapped her lap and for some reason I immediately positioned myself across her knees. She circled my pyjama-clad bottom with her hand for a few moments before commencing the spanking. I bawled and shouted in pain, begging her to stop before mercifully she did so. She re-positioned me, this time sitting on her lap. “Shush now, little one,” she said soothingly as I sobbed uncontrollably. “Now you know what to expect if you disobey aunty,” she cuddled me into her bosom and gently rocked me as she spoke, her strong arms pinning me to her. “ I don’t expect you will disobey me though will you?” She laughed and kissed the top of my head. “Come along now, time for beddy-byes.”

More from the archive of Pyjama Punishment Monthly

I thought you may be interested to learn how Timmy's petticoat education proceeded.
It had been arranged for Miss Healy to live in and tutor Timmy throughout the summer break. She was aware of Timmy's past, and, while she approved of my use of childish pyjamas to control his behaviour, she frowned upon him wearing male apparel however smart. Miss Healy advocated that Timmy would benefit by being dressed as a schoolgirl for tutoring purposes. She also suggested that he be confined to strictly girlish nightwear from the early evening. While not opposed to these ideas, I was at pains to point out my belief in an inexpensive approach to petticoat discipline. Miss Healy allayed my fears, accurately predicting that charity shops could provide our needs quite economically.
I must admit I enjoyed taking the reluctant Timmy shopping for his new wardrobe. Underwear was bought new; skirts, blouses, stockings and tights were all purchased second hand. I was particularly pleased when I spotted a delightful pair of brushed cotton pyjamas that were ideal for Timmy. They had been well laundered, but were incredibly soft and feminine. Pale green winceyette with a small white floral motif and a Peter Pan collar that buttoned to the neck. Timmy would look incredibly sweet in them.
Timmy's typical day would start with an inspection by Miss Healy, ensuring his schoolgirl uniform met her high standards. She insisted blouses be buttoned up to the neck, and that hemlines be just below the knee. A full morning of revision and written work would follow for Timmy until lunchtime. Timmy eats his meals sitting on his special 'low chair'; simply a shortened kitchen chair that ensures extra care is taken over table manners. A slapped hand or wrist is appropriate if something is spilled or dropped.
 Much to Timmy's distress, we took him for regular afternoon walks. Miss Healy believed petticoat discipline should be a humiliating experience, accordingly she would expose Timmy to possible ridicule by stopping inside a busy shop to fussily button up his cardigan, or noisily smack the back of his legs for failing to hold a grown-up hand near a busy road. Upon our return, Timmy would have further studies to concentrate on until it was time to put on his lovely soft girlish pyjamas.
Timmy's recent tantrums had been about his bed and pyjama time, Miss Healy was adamant that no concessions should be given, consequently, Timmy could find himself pyjama clad by five o'clock, or even earlier if inclement weather had prevented our afternoon walk. Miss Healy often liked to tease Timmy in front of the whist club ladies in order to humiliate him further. She would hold up his pyjama jacket like a matador's cape, swiftly pulling it away each time he tried to put his arms in the sleeves. Eventually she would slip it around his shoulders before slowly buttoning the jacket up to the neck. Then she would hold his pyjama bottoms out of reach above her head. Everyone found it extremely amusing to see him pleading to be allowed to put on his girlish pyjama bottoms, while making futile attempts to grab them, wearing just his pyjama top.
Miss Healy and I thought that Timmy would gain by learning how to sew.  His first challenge was to make and sew pom-poms onto his furry slippers. This he managed very well, and he seemed quite proud to show off his handiwork. Then I taught him how to work from a pattern and use a sewing machine. He produced a simple but very pretty cotton blouse that he wore with obvious pride. Rummaging around one day, I found a pattern for girl's pyjamas dating from the nineteen sixties, I decided these would be Timmy's next challenge. A remnant of pink, brushed nylon material was donated for the purpose and, with a little help from myself, an honourable result was eventually attained.
I decided that the finished garments deserved a special unveiling ceremony, so the next evening I took Timmy into his bedroom to dress him in his new pyjamas. The jacket, in true sixties fashion, had a laced ruff collar, frilled cuffs and a lace bodice. As I pulled up the pyjama bottoms, I realised Timmy had never worn brushed nylon before. Only now, as he began to squirm uncomfortably where the high collar chaffed his neck, would he begin to understand how we suffered as young girls, having to wear those wretched nighties and pyjamas that created their own aurora borealis when you took them off. I must admit to being quite pleased to see Timmy suffering in the same way.
 
Timmy's face was as pink as his pyjamas when I ushered him into view. Miss Healy had arranged the seating to imitate a catwalk. I marched him up and down the row of ladies, giving a commentary on the nightwear as I pointed out the finer points of his needlework. Then as the embarrassed Timmy stood awkwardly in front of us, I presented him with a crochet bed jacket to keep his pyjamas clean while he attends to his household chores. Timmy blushed uncontrollably as I tied it in place with ribbons and he buried his face in my lap as we all enjoyed his discomfort.
Miss Healy is set to leave us shortly but, as I watch Timmy dusting, wearing his pom-pom slippers, pink brushed nylon pyjamas, and crocheted bed jacket, I know I have her to thank for expanding my application of petticoat discipline, and ensuring Timmy continues to reap the benefits.

These are the pyjamas my aunt made me wear when I visited her for a long weekend. I had annoyed her by not packing any of my own pyjamas for the visit. I was put across her knee for a spanking and put to bed at 6 o'clock that first night. I spent the rest of the weekend wearing the pyjamas and being put to bed early.

A further selection of ski pyjamas

Bunnykins. How one boy becomes aunty's baby bunny

Aunty cradled Philip in her arms as easily as she would a small child. ‘You’re my little Bunnykins aren’t you? Yes you are.’
Philip was used to her question-and-answer style of talking to him and was pleased when she finally grew tired of her game, standing him down on the small rug in front of the cheval mirror.
Philip stared at his reflection, his birthday was a matter of weeks away; instead of a young man of sixteen he saw a smooth skinned little boy wearing only the clean nappies that Aunty had freshly changed him into. She bent down behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders, ‘Aunty has laid out your pretty clothes Bunnykins, do you think you can put them on all by yourself? Yes of course you can.’ Talking directly to the mirror she kissed his cheek affectionately. ‘Come straight down when you’re ready Bunnykins, its nearly time for your nap, and don’t forget your handkerchief!’
Philip couldn’t believe he was having so much trouble getting dressed; he fumbled with the ribbon that tied the neck of his short-sleeved blouse, struggling to get the bow just how Aunty would want it. The extra large buttons that held the crossover straps of his corduroy bibbed shorts were awkward to fasten, and he tried unsuccessfully to manoeuvre his thick towelling nappies into a more comfortable position as the elasticised legs of the baby pants cut into his thighs. After pulling on the frilled white ankle socks he waggled his toes into his bunny slippers, at least they protected his feet from the cold floorboards that obtained throughout the house.
Miss Golightly, a local social worker, had arranged for Philip to live with this woman, who had no children, but had promised to take good care of him. His parents, in their overseas aid work, had had to move to another country, one that was very poor and unstable. They thought it safer that Philip stay in England, especially since he was rather small and very timid for his age. So it had all been arranged.
Miss Golightly had taken him to his new auntie’s house, a little over three weeks ago. It was after seven by the time they approached the large house that stood three miles from the village. Philip noted the high wall that surrounded the grounds to the rear, and wondered what kind of person lived here. Miss Golightly had told him that he should call her ‘Aunty’, she would like that, and that she should be nice to live with, because she had always wanted a baby of her own.
When he had met her, he was intimidated by her size. She was over six feet tall (and Miss Golightly had always thought that this might explain why she had never been able to marry). His new aunty stooped down to greet him, immediately talking to him as if he was a young child. ‘Hello my darling little one…I’m sure you are going to be very happy and well cared for here. I hope you don’t mind if I call you Bunnykins; I want you to be my sweet little baby bunny. And you are to think of your name as Bunnykins too, not Philip. Bunnykins is so much sweeter.’
Miss Golightly grinned and said, ‘Better do as Aunty says, Bunnykins.’
‘Aunty wants Bunnykins to take all his big boy’s clothes off and have a nice warm bath.’
‘My name is Philip and I don’t take baths,’ he retorted. If her greying hair and schoolmarm appearance had fooled him, or if it was just the inability of youth to estimate ages, he quickly discovered his mistake. He found himself across her lap, his pants around his knees, and given a good nursery spanking. He wriggled but could not escape her firm grip. Miss Golightly did not interfere; in fact she seemed to approve.
‘What a naughty Bunnykins,’ she said, administering a final smack on his bare bottom, ‘little babies like you don’t talk to grown ups like that, do they?’ Shocked by how easily she had put him across her knee, he was helpless as she held up his arms and removed his sweater. His expensive shoes were quickly discarded, and despite his attempt to resist she carried him upstairs, tucking him under her arm as if she was carrying a rolled up rug.
‘Aunty is going to scrub you nice and clean Bunnykins, and then it’s straight to beddy-byes for you.’
‘Stop treating me like a baby, I don’t want to go to bed,’ he said, confused.
Aunty smiled, ‘Why, it’s way past your bedtime Bunnykins,’ she said lowering him into the bath, ‘early bedtime for you from now on, little man.’
Miss Golightly spoke, ‘I just need you to sign these papers saying that you agree to look after his welfare, and that you will educate him from home, then I can leave you to deal with Bunnykins.’ Philip gave her a hard stare but somehow did not feel so tough sitting in the bath being lathered in suds by this strong woman.
‘Just a moment dear, I will sign your forms once I’ve put Bunnykins down for the night. Oops-a-daisy, Bunnykins.’
Aunty lifted him out of the bath, carrying him up another flight of stairs balanced on her hip. Her left hand supported his bottom, the other pressed firmly into the small of his back. Occasionally she would remove this hand to grasp the banister. Philip did not struggle; the rickety banister moved each time she grasped it, creaking alarmingly. Over her shoulder he could see down the steep flight of twisting stairs; he had no head for heights. Instinctively he put his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder, clinging nervously on. ‘There’s a good Bunnykins,’ she cooed, ‘nearly there.’
They entered an attic room and Philip was deposited into a baby’s cot that was situated beneath the staircase alcove that led to the roof. Miss Golightly noticed it had metal rails painted pink, such as one might find in a children’s hospital, Aunty quickly pulled up the side rail, ‘There now Bunnykins off you go to bye-byes.’ Philip was so small he could stand upright in the cot and grasped the rails as though he were in a prison cell, which in a way he was.
‘Let me out of here, I’m not a baby.’ he pleaded, gripping the bars tightly in frustration. Miss Golightly grinned mockingly at his predicament as he tried vainly to force his head through the gap where the alcove was highest.
‘Well you are certainly having a baby tantrum,’ Aunty said, ‘we will leave you to calm down, night-night Bunnykins.’ Realising he was totally naked he quickly sat down in the cot and watched in dismay from behind the rails as they left the room, hearing Miss Golightly laughing out loud as the door closed and mentioning something about little Bunnykins being very small indeed. Defiantly he shouted at the empty room then fell silent.
The room was becoming dark as the daylight rapidly disappeared, and Philip lay down in the cot searching for a blanket to cover him; he fumbled under the pillow, his hand closing around a baby’s dummy which he flung away in disgust before he grasped what he thought was a blanket. Too dark now to see exactly what he had found, he covered himself with the soft material, pulled his knees up to his chest and went to sleep...

* * * * * * *

‘Bunnykins where are you?’
Startled by the sound of her voice he made his way quickly down the bare staircase, remembering to tuck his handkerchief into the bib of his shorts he hurried past the schoolroom where Aunty made sure he read all his schoolbooks. She had promised him that once his reading reached a certain standard, he would no longer have to wear his nappies and other baby clothes, but Philip was not sure what that standard was.
Auntie’s size ten brogues were lined up beside the umbrella stand, three pairs – all in traditional regulation brown. Philip heard the fourth pair approach. ‘There you are Bunnykins; Aunty was just coming to look for you. Aren’t you clever dressing yourself like that? Here, let Aunty help you.’ She undid the ribbon around his neck and retied it, teasing out the bow into a neater, babyish flounce. She fastened the loose strap of his shorts then adjusted his baby pants till the elastic rested comfortably on his legs. Finally she patted the front of his bibbed shorts, checking for his handkerchief. ‘There now,’ she said, tilting his chin upward with her index finger, ‘not too difficult was it?’
She smiled down at him benignly; her hair that was neatly tied in a bun enhanced her round facial features. Her white blouse was patterned with a delicate floral design and the buttoned neck was adorned with a small cameo brooch. The cuffs of her blouse were folded back to just above her wrist exposing her functional ladies’ wristwatch.
The unmistakeable smell of her perfume wafted into his senses as she spoke. ‘Aunty is going to be very busy this afternoon so you are going to sit outside in your pushchair to take your nap, won’t that be nice?’ Without waiting for a reply she led him into the conservatory and sat him on ‘Bunnykins’ chair. His feet, adorned with his bunny slippers did not quite reach the floor, and his little legs dangled over the edge.
‘Lets get you all cosy for outside Bunnykins.’ She sat beside him and slid him up onto her lap. He half-heartedly struggled to free himself but he knew by experience he could not escape. She removed his slippers and slipped his feet into the woolly baby leggings. He sat glumly as she eased them on, ensuring his feet were settled perfectly before drawing the waist ties together to fasten the leggings around his waist. Humming contentedly she pushed his arms into the matching matinee jacket. Reaching down over his shoulders she fastened the small green buttons all the way up to his neck leaving the mittens dangling on tapes from the cuffs. The hat was made of the same pale green wool; a knitted chinstrap ensured the ear flaps fitted snugly. Aunty adjusted the peak of the cap and Bunnykins was all ready for his nap.
‘Bunnykins will be nice and warm in his pretty outdoor suit won’t he then?’ She spoke in a ‘coochie-coo’ baby talk manner, tickling his tummy as she picked him up and carried him through the conservatory outside into the rear garden.
Aunty produced his pink baby reins and strapped him into the baby carriage with its original grey paint and four large wheels it had served Aunty well down the years; the huge springs supporting the chassis creaked loudly as she wheeled him to a corner of the garden protected from the autumn chill. ‘Handy-Pandies into your mittens now, I want you to be all cosy.’
Philip felt himself blush at being addressed in such a babyish manner, ‘does Bunnykins want his dum-dum?’ she asked. Philip shook his head vehemently.
‘No Aunty I….’ ignoring him she popped the dummy into his protesting mouth and tied it loosely in place. ‘There! A dummykins for Bunnykins. And Bunnykins will soon learn to love his dum-dum,’ she said, tucking what Aunty called his sleepy-time blankie around his knees, a monstrous bright yellow blanket covered in night-shirted ‘Wee Willie Winkie’ characters. She planted a kiss on the side of his face and strode back inside, leaving baby Philip alone in his pushchair.
Philip sat watching the swing with dislike, the chains squeaked rhythmically as they moved in the breeze. Aunty had pushed him gently back and forward the other day but he had felt a type of vertigo attack overcome him and had begged her to stop. He looked at the wall he had attempted to climb over the first time he had been left alone in the garden. Aunty had plucked him down, ’Where does Bunnykins think he is going?’ She laughed, ’We must keep you safe.’ She had fastened him into baby reins with little bells attached, and secured the reins on a long line. She had also donated his ordinary boys’ clothes to Oxfam. ‘No more big boy’s clothes for you Bunnykins, you look so much sweeter in your baby outfits,’ she had told him.
Aunty smiled as she watched Philip doze off, he was coming along nicely, far quicker than she had anticipated, and that was why she had made that afternoon’s arrangements. ‘I must remember to write a thank you letter to Miss Golightly,’ she thought to herself.
She had just taken the cake out of the oven, and was busy draping his freshly ironed pyjamas over the back of the sofa, when she heard a commotion and went outside. Her friend Mrs Yates was talking to Philip with Melissa, Mrs Yates’ daughter, standing alongside her. ‘My, what a pretty outfit, I wish I was as snug as you look.’
Philip ineffectually attempted to spit out his dummy, shaking his head to loosen it while fumbling with mittened hands to undo the strap that securely held him; the hapless boy was on the verge of tears before Aunty soothed Philip as she carried him into the house. ‘There-there Bunnykins, Aunties got you all safe and sound.’ Ushering her guests inside she put him in his chair opposite Melissa and her mother, who sat on the sofa.
Philip was upset. The shock of waking up and finding a strange women and a young girl standing over him had given him quite a surprise. He squirmed fretfully as she removed his knitted leggings and woolly cardigan, ‘Goodness what a fidget you are Bunnykins, there will be no cake for you, naughty little babykins.”
Melissa was only ten years old, but she was already taller than Philip. She edged toward him, leaning against the arm of his chair, her face covered in cake crumbs, as she stuffed the last vestige of the slice into her mouth.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked, blurting fragments of cake into his face.
’Ph - Bunnykins,’ he replied, blushing furiously as he disdainfully wiped away her unwanted offering. She prodded the front of his shorts; Philip quickly tried to brush away the chocolate-encrusted finger, but was a fraction too slow.
'Urgh! You’re all wet just like a baby!’ she exclaimed, dashing off to tell her mother and Aunty. Philip had hoped to keep his accident a secret until Melissa had left but now Aunty would have to change him in front of everyone.
‘Come along Bunnykins let’s get you all nice and dry again shall we?’ Aunty stripped off his clothes before removing the wet garments. Her slow unflustered manner calmed Philips nervousness, his frantic attempts to avoid the humiliation of a nappy change in front of guests disappeared; instead he lay content as Aunty lifted his legs, powdering those important places that ensured he was ready to enjoy the feeling of soft fleecy nappies being pinned upon him. ‘What a good Bunnykins,’ she praised, as she slipped his legs into the yellow plastic pants that guaranteed Bunnykins a cosy dry cot that night, ‘shall we put our lovely warm jim-jams on now?’ Aunty continued with her rhetoric: ‘Yes we will won’t we, then you’ll be all ready for beddy-byes nice and early, won’t you sweetums.’
Used the same, singsong, cheery voice, she spoke to Melissa. ’Be a good girl and pass me Bunnykins’ pyjamas will you?’  Melissa eagerly sought his nightwear, grabbing the infantile pyjamas from behind her mother.
Philip was chastened, he never thought that Aunty would get him ready for bed in front of Melissa and her mother - he didn’t want his secret revealed.
He remembered the first time she dressed him in his special baby pyjamas, Aunty had given him a bedtime spanking for his naughtiness, not a hard one, just four smacks on his pyjama-clad bottom. Now he wanted to run away again as Aunty prepared to dress him in his babyish nightwear.
Philip stood facing Aunty as she slipped the pyjama top over his head, embarrassed at the presence of strangers to his bedtime ritual, his pyjama-clad arms waved in the air as his head refused to emerge from the pyjama neck.
‘Just a moment Bunnykins,’ Aunty said softly before releasing the buttons at the back of the top. ‘Boo! There now that’s better isn’t it?’ she asked as his flustered head popped out into the daylight. She turned him round by the shoulders to face Melissa and her mother while she re-fastened the buttons. Melissa stared at the subjugated boy wearing nappies and a pink pyjama top covered in nursery rhyme characters. Once again she approached Philip as Aunty stepped him into his pyjama bottoms and pulled them up high, almost to his armpits, before the elastic waist pinged against his chest.
‘That’s Humpty Dumpty,’ Melissa cried, ‘and there’s Little Bo-Peep!’ Poor Philip could only stand there feeling very foolish as she excitedly identified all the characters on his babyish pyjamas. ’Come along Bunnykins, I want to play in the garden.’
Philip shook his head; he didn’t want to indulge in childish games. ‘Where’s Aunty?’ Philip asked, concern entering his voice.
‘Don’t worry Bunnykins, she will be back shortly,’ Melissa’s mother said, leading him by the hand into the garden. Philip, fearful of being separated from Aunty, felt the safety-bar snap down in front of him before realising Mrs Yates had secured him in the swing, instantly his fear took over as he tried, to no avail, to prise the bar open.
‘Now play nicely Melissa,’ Mrs Yates urged her daughter, ‘Bunnykins is off to bed shortly, it’s very nearly his bedtime so please don’t get him too excited.’
Philip watched Melissa’s mother disappear into the conservatory as he found himself beginning to swing back and forth in a gentle arc. As Melissa increased her effort his head began to swim with dizziness as nausea enveloped him. His mittened hands gripped the safety-bar as best he could as he soared ever higher, his cries, mistaken for squeals of excitement by Melissa, were ignored until mercifully the ordeal gradually slowed and then stopped, as Melissa grew tired and released him from the swing.
Philip staggered into the conservatory, his walk hampered by bulging nappies. Aunty was waiting as he fell sobbing into her outstretched arms as a sheepish looking Melissa followed behind.
‘Don’t worry Melissa, Bunnykins is easily frightened, aren’t you sweetums?’ Aunty cuddled him in close to her chest, as if she was comforting a distressed infant. ‘I’m afraid our Bunnykins is a bit of a sissy,’ she explained to Melissa with a smile. She patted the sleeve of his pyjamas as she rocked him ever so slightly. ‘Never mind Bunnykins, Auntie’s here now,’ she cooed.
Philip’s sobs lessened as his nausea faded. He felt what at first thought was his dummy being pushed between his lips and opened his eyes just as the initial rush of warm milk hit his throat. She smiled lovingly down at him - then tilted the baby bottle again until he had swallowed the contents fully. A surprised Philip had received his first bottle feed from Aunty. ‘Time to get you to beddy-byes Bunnykins, it’s far too late for you to stay up any longer.’
Melissa sidled up beside them as Aunty lifted an unresisting Philip into her arms. ‘Why do you call him Bunnykins?’ she asked, ‘it is such a funny name.’
Aunty laughed and spoke to Philip as he nestled in her arms. ‘Well Bunnykins shall we let Melissa into your secret?’ Philip shook his head violently. ‘No Aunty I don’t want Melissa to…’
Aunty ignored Philip. ‘Come along then Melissa follow us up, you can bring his book. Bunnykins, give Mrs Yates a night-night kiss and cuddle, then we’ll get you off to bed.’
Aunty carried Philip into his room, his cot stood dominantly in the centre of the room. No tears before bedtime now.
Aunty sat the pyjama-clad Philip on her knee, her arm encircling his waist as she reached under the pillow. She unfurled the garment, and slid his feet into the opening until the material began to taper at the bottom; his legs were eased together, leaving his feet nestling in one large padded foot. His arms were shuffled into sleeves that emerged to become enclosed in mittens that rendered fingers and thumbs helpless. Aunty zipped up the front of the garment to the neck, reaching behind she pulled up the hood that fitted snugly around his head, framing his face perfectly as two fluffy ears flopped comically over his eyes.
Melissa cried out joyfully, ‘It’s a bunny rabbit suit! That’s why he’s called Bunnykins.’ Her eyes sparkled with glee at his appearance. The soft, white winceyette bunny suit that encased Philip was patterned with hopping bunnies. Aunty patted the fluffy cottontail on the rear of his bunny suit, ‘now Bunnykins, show Melissa how you climb into beddy-byes.’ Aunty clapped her hands and started to sing very softly –
‘Hippity hop, Hippity hop into beddy-byes, Bunnykins must go to sleep and close his weary eyes.’
Melissa quickly joined in the babyish chant, clapping her hands and singing along with Aunty, whilst giggling uncontrollably at poor Philip’s antics as he hopped across the room stumbling into Auntie’s arms before she lifted him into his cot.
’There now, my little Bunnykins is all tired out after all that hopping, it’s almost time for sleepy-byes,’ Aunty tucked Philip in and opened his book. Now Melissa will read you some nice nursery rhymes, won’t you dear?’ Melissa nodded her head, enjoying the sight of poor Philip in his cuddly baby bunny suit.
After she had finished Melissa gave him a kiss on his forehead, and patted his tummy, and turned out the light as she left the room. Inside his cot Bunnykins searched under his pillow until his mittened hand felt a familiar shape. He pushed the dummy into his mouth and snuggled down to sleep.

An exclusive version of this Sissy Babykins image,

Ready for an early bedtime

Yet another batch of responses from the archives of Pyjama Punishment Monthly

Dear Robert;

How dare you whine to me! I am a female who believes in strict early bedtime discipline and pyjama punishment for naughty whiners and cranky baby boys like you.

First off, I think it very nice of your sweet mother to escort you every day from school. She must really love you to devote her time to you in this manner and to hold hands as if you were a sweet little child sixteen or not!

          I think it admirable that your sisters bathe you. They should be allowed to undress you from now on for your impertinence in this letter you have dared to write. You should be kept shaved completely from the neck down and rubbed with sweet scented creams to make your skin soft and girlish. In your bath should be scented bath oils as well as bubble bath scented of course. You should be covered in suds and shampoo and soap completely with a bar of scented soap in your mouth to keep you quiet during your bath. They should powder and dry you off completely with your hands on top of your head.

Your mother was right to let your sisters pick out your feminine pajamas and dress you. I want more details on all the pajama sets you have in detail my lad. Do you hear me? It is good to wear the pajama bottoms in case of accidents because you should not be allowed out of bed at all once you have been put to bed. I do hope your sweet mother enforces this rule.

          After your bath, it's bedtime. In bed you will be made to sit up and be fed your baby food and formula warmed up in a bottle every day you arrive from school. What time do you arrive home? Baby food should be a lot of vegetables and some fruit and the formula should contain some sleeping powder from the local chemist strong enough to keep you compliant with your bedtime.

Your bed preparations should be: blinds lowered completely, curtains drawn tightly and if you don't have hermetically lined curtains, after your mother reads this, she should get them to keep out 100% of that nasty daylight from bothering her sweet baby. A child minder (baby monitor) is a great idea. It should be so that even if there is static you should be punished with more bedtime and your sisters should carry the receiver when they are in the house or yard and tell mother when you violate the rules. You should have no access to clothes and your bedroom door closed and locked. An electric blanket is a good idea to induce sleep along with many regular wool blankets and your sheets should be brushed flannel for the same reason. You should be tightly tucked in to keep you from getting up. A pacifier tied in the mouth is a great idea and should either be coated with nail biter deterrent or your mother should use a medicated pacifier and add castor oil to it. I also suggest padded hand mittens to keep you chaste in bed. You know how you boys get aroused. The effect will last an hour or more. Your window (in good weather) should be kept slightly open so you can hear the sounds of an active world outside.

On weekends and holidays (days off from school) you should be in bed at 11:30am at the latest, before your mother and sister's lunch so you won't argue and act cranky with them at the table and lunch should be in bed. Prior to that, you should have a bath and fresh pajamas before you are allowed down for breakfast. Your every movement until beddy bye at 11:30am should be monitored. Regardless of your opinion, if your mother wishes to take you somewhere in public, you should go in your pajamas. However sometimes you should just be put to bed for the night before mother goes out.

You should be put to bed as punishment all day for misbehavior when required by your mother or sisters. The schedule should be: 7:30am-bath and fresh pajamas, make bed. 8:00am-breakfast downstairs in pajamas and return to bed by 8:30am at the very latest. From that point it's sleepy time until 11:30am when you will get your baby lunch in bed (formula and baby food) before night -night at noon. No tea and no dinner. This is your punishment schedule.

If guests come over on weekends and holidays, you should be put to bed before they arrive. This includes friends of your sisters, even though they might only be coming over to pick them up to go out somewhere and the policy should be once down in bed, there you will stay until at least the next morning.

Your girlfriend: Does she have a new boyfriend now that you have "dumped" her by going to bed so early? I demand a report from you in the next communication? If she does come over for tea or lunch or even dinner, and with a friend you should be in bed well beforehand. She could be allowed to kiss you and say goodnight or she may elect not to disturb you. I demand you detail how she feels in your next communication and how she feels about you.

I think regardless of how I feel (I do not agree with you being allowed up for tea) that your mother is doing right by letting you up for tea as long as you are back in bed within one half hour of being allowed up and you should be in your pajamas. If she continues this practice, that is fine but if you are punished that should not be allowed. What time is teatime at your house 3:00pm?

I think it admirable for your girlfriend to buy you such nice pajamas and how dare you protest? She did help put you to night- night so the adults could talk and have dinner in peace.

          Your sisters should be allowed to make the decision if you are deserving of bed punishment for the slightest of offenses and carry out the details of putting you to bed. A bath is not always necessary by the way. I think your mother will agree to this.

I am demanding answers on any questions I have included in this communication and I want to hear about many incidents in detail which means more of what was said and done and next time I want to hear your thoughts of being put to bed as punishment while everyone is downstairs enjoying a picnic or family gathering with you.

Failure to do so will result in further punishment. Do you understand baby Robert??

Mistress Janice Oryan

From LilBbyJennie:

          Can we humiliate you any further? Oh let me count the ways.
First since you’re obviously a little child despite your age I believe the name Robbie is much more appropriate. I also think that the Dry- Nites Pyjama Pants are inappropriate for someone of your age at home when nappies obviously suit your temperament with cute frilly plastic rumba panties over them this way your mother does not have to worry
about her little one doing anything in the bathroom at all. I think a baby potty should be placed in the middle of the living room and when you need to go you need to ask your sisters or mother to take you potty, and it will be up to them if they want to or not. If they
decide to let you go in your nappy they will change you whenever they wish too with you having no say in the matter at all. I think a dummy tied in place at all times is wonderful ideas to help you better learn how to use that tongue appropriately. Also because of
your childish behavior you should call your mother Mommy or I think the U.K equivalent is Mummy.

I think the Dry-Nites Pyjama Pants should be saved for when you go to school and afterwards your Mummy should ask you if you stayed dry. Since everyone at school knows your not a big boy you may as well dress appropriately with girlish pants and sweaters and blouses. Since you still need to learn how to respect your peers and
betters you call everyone from your sisters to your ex Miss or Mrs. so and so and guys you will call Mr. REGARDLESS of their age. The only exception of course is your Mommy. You should also thank for ex for agreeing to sit for you and when she finds someone new you should thank him for treating her like a boyfriend should instead of having to subject her to childish plays. I also think a daily spanking given at beddy-byes should help remind you to be good the next day and the severity depend on your behavior. I think lines should suffice as well 500 for starters saying I will respect my betters and obey. In answer to your question, Baby Robbie can we find any other ways to
humiliate you? OHHHH YYYEEESSS 

From LilBby Jennie:

More ideas oh let me think a second if i have any. It will take awhile. OK I lied I have plenty. First since there are uniforms what about a childish book bag or backpack to carry his school books some girly cartoon character like strawberry Shortcake, my little pony to match his jim jams, Dora the Explorer even Madeline and matching lunch box which will have baby food for his lunchie. I also thought of getting him a stuffed animal or doll dressed in similar attire whether it is nappies or pyjama pants that go everywhere he does at school it will be in his book bag to remind him of his status and maybe having his ex feed him lunch at school if they have the same lunch time. Since there is a possibility however slight of him getting out of bed why use a bed at all when a crib or i think the UK equivalent of a cot will work nicer. Also baby dolls instead of pyjamas will be easier to change and dress the dear sweet boy. Why not turn his room into a little girl’s room with pink walls and possibly nursery characters. Since he has a uniform for school and his pyjamas for other occasion he does not need street clothes so donate them to a local charity. Why not also put him in childish tights and get rid of the pyjama bottoms entirely. Maybe if he is good he may have mashed bananas or something that is adult food blended and pureed into mush for the little one.
I also think a daily dose of castor oil first thing in the morning will also control that tongue and attitude during the day if he realizes there will be more where it came from if he is naughty. There are the enemas that can be given for "cleansing" and if he is
cranky he must be sick so temp taken rectally.

I do believe I have learned some tricks from the wonderful and gracious Mistress Janice.

Gertrude's son Robert writes to Pyjama Punishment Monthly.

Plea from Gertrude’s Son

Dear all, my name is Robert and my Mother has been seeking your advice regarding my bedtime. Thanks to your comments, not only do I have to go to bed even earlier then before but my mother has also changed her working hours to enforce new, even
stricter rules. Don't you think it is unfair that my mother now escorts me home from school every afternoon?  She waits for me at the school gates and I have to
walk home holding her hand! Thanks to Alice everyone at school knows I am going home straight to bed and they call out to me on the way home.

 ' Off to beddy-byes now Robert?' and 'night-night Robert' Recently one chilly day, my mother made me wear a pink scarf and matching mittens, putting them on me in
front of my friends from the football team. My mother said I must wear them or she would spank me right there and then even though I am sixteen! My sisters are now allowed to give me a bath every night. Once we arrive home my sisters undress me and
use lots of baby suds and baby shampoo to make me, 'all clean for beddy byes.' They cover me in baby powder and my youngest sister, who is only twelve, selects my pyjamas. Since my tantrum I am only allowed to wear girl’s pyjamas. Mother took me shopping and bought several pairs for me, all chosen by my sisters who took great
delight in telling the shop assistant they were for me. The pyjamas are all very childish and covered in lace and flowers and my sister takes plenty of time choosing which pair I will wear to bed. I am buttoned into the pyjama jacket. I hate wearing the brushed nylon pair as they are very hot and the lacy collar irritates me a lot.  Before my sisters
step me into the pyjama bottoms I am further humiliated.

On the way home from school one afternoon my mother made me go into the local chemist and buy a pack of Dry-Nites Pyjama Pants! I had to stand there red faced as she explained to Mrs. Robson how I was being punished with early bedtimes and made to wear girl's pyjamas and how I was not allowed out of bed to use the toilet. Mrs Robson is my girlfriend's mother! 

My sisters say 'time for your nappy' as they make me put them on before holding open my pyjama bottoms for me to step into. Don't you realize how foolish I feel standing in front of my younger sisters wearing a pair of girls brushed nylon pyjamas with what amounts to a nappy underneath my pyjama bottoms!  I am then taken straight to bed, given my last meal of the day and told to 'snuggle down for sleepy byes.'
Once I am tightly tucked into bed my sisters argue about who is to give me my milky drink, which is in a baby's bottle!  I have to finish the bottle before a baby's dummy is
tied into place leaving me unable to speak properly without sounding like a small child. The curtains are tightly drawn and my mother switches on the baby monitor and warns me I shall be spanked if she hears me attempt to get out of bed. 

Apparently it is you I have to thank for being confined to bed at the weekend. I am only allowed up at teatime and not allowed any clothes. Mother says I must wear girl's pyjamas all the time apart from school days.  I don't know where
she got that idea.  Last Saturday, I was sitting at the tea table wearing winceyette pink floral pyjamas when there was a knock at the door. It was Mrs. Robson with Jackie, my
girlfriend! I tried to run upstairs to hide but was held by my mother.  Jackie hands me another pack of Pyjama Pants saying, ' I hear you have been a naughty boy Robert
and need these.' She laughed as I was made to thank her. 'Oh and I see it is true you have to wear pink pyjamas, they are very pretty and nice and cozy too I should think. So
here is a present for you.' Inside the parcel was a pair of 'My little Pony' girl's pyjamas! Mrs. Robson said, 'they are too small for Jackie now but they should be perfect for you.'
Mother made me say. 'Thank you for my lovely pyjamas,' blushing furiously and close to tears I was actually grateful to be taken back to bed by my sisters. Once I was tucked back in however, to my horror Jackie came up and sat on the bed beside me!
'Well you are a naughty little baby, all tucked up in your pretty jim-jams. I am afraid we won't be going out together any more but you will still be seeing a lot of me as your mother has asked me to baby-sit for you.'  I started to protest but she picked up my dummy and tied it into place.

'Shush now babykins it's time for you to go bye-byes even though it is only 4:30pm!and guess what? Next Sunday you are coming to have tea at my house and your mother has promised you will be wearing your new pyjamas! Won't that be lovely? Night-night precious, see you soon' So now I am dreading Sunday when I will have to wear
my ex-girlfriends, 'My Little Pony' pyjamas in front of her and her mother!
I beg you to advise my mother to stop this punishment. Don't you think I have been punished enough? Surely there is nothing left you can think of to humiliate me
further?
Gertrude's unhappy pyjama clad son Robert.

The frilly pink girls pyjamas Robert's sister's made him wear.

The original letter Published in Pyjama Punishment Monthly

AGONY AUNT

Does anyone have a solution to Gertrude's dilemma?
A dose of Castor oil will be administered to the supplier of the best answer!

My fifteen-year-old son has always had an earlier bedtime than his sisters despite the fact they are both younger than him. Even though they are just aged fourteen and twelve they are far more capable than he. My son’s bedtime is 6:00pm with preparation beginning at
4:00pm. I expect him to be in his nightclothes by 4:30pm. These consist of dainty; cotton baby-doll pyjama sets in the warmer months and traditional, cosy girl’s floral winceyette pyjamas during the winter. These tend to be of the kind toddlers of three or four might wear, as I do not consider him old enough for “grown up pyjamas”.

At weekends his routine varies. On Saturday his sisters invariably stay with friends and since I am soft hearted I put him into his pyjamas at 2:00pm but allow him to stay up until 6.30pm when he is just in time to say night-night to Nana and Auntie Beatrice, my mother and sister who regularly visit at that time. On Sunday, since it is school the next day he is bathed and ready for bed by 1:00pm and safely tucked up no more than a half an hour later. At weekdays, since I usually have not returned from work by 5:15pm, it befalls his sisters to ensure he adheres to the rules. They will oversee his supper; the girls eat with me once he is tucked up in bed, make sure he washes his dirty dishes, select his pyjamas, help him undress and assist with the donning of his pyjamas before supervising face washing and teeth cleaning. I am always home in time to take him to bed as I think that is very important for a boy of his age to have Mummy there to tuck him in and kiss him night-night. Now he is about to turn sixteen he requested that his bedtime should be moved to seven pm. Upon consideration I agreed to a trial period to begin immediately. Unfortunately that is where my trouble
began.

My son was under the impression that a later bedtime also meant pyjamas not being donned until 5:15pm. This was not the agreement. When I arrived home I found my daughters had spanked him and gave him corner time when he refused to get ready for bed at his usual time. Something they have my permission to do. They had also dressed him in his special, “naughty boy pyjamas,” the pink floral winceyette ones with the Peter
Pan collar. Amidst all the tears and recriminations the best I could do was pack him off to bed there and then. I now find that my daughters are unhappy about spoiling our evenings together, they feel the best place for my son is to be tucked up in bed at his usual time and to continue letting them get him ready for bed, choosing jim-jams etc. I have, for the moment reverted back to the previous arrangement, something my son is not happy with but do not wish to undermine my daughters authority over their brother.
Your advice on the matter would be most appreciated.

Gertrude Kirchgarten.

More responses from the correspondence originally published in Pyjama Punishment Monthly

Dear all, 

Well I must say my son appears to have taken leave of his senses. On Saturday his Nana and Aunt Beatrice arrived unexpectedly early. With them was eleven-year-old Alice who was being looked after by my sister. Alice immediately shouted out a cry of recognition. It appeared she was in the first year of my son’s school. My son of course had no knowledge of such a junior pupil. I suggested a game of ‘Ring a Rosie’s’ for the pair of them, and indeed, Alice was soon laughing and enjoying herself twirling around and falling down. For some reason my sixteen-year-old son appeared to be less enthusiastic and I had to threaten him on more than one occasion with a spanking to remind him to play nicely.

At 2:15pm I approached them and told my son to go upstairs and fetch his pyjamas, 

as it was time for him to get ready for bed. I informed Alice that they could play a less 

boisterous game once I had put my son in his pyjamas ready for bed. Imagine my 

surprise when he flatly refused to obey me, saying such nonsense as he was to old to

 be wearing pyjamas. You can imagine the shock I felt at being shown up in such a

 manner in front of guests. I was so I took down his shorts and put him across my lap 

for a spanking. He was not at all pleased to be spanked in front of everyone but I 

ignored his cries and sent Alice off on an errand to his sisters’ room to fetch some 

punishment pyjamas. 

She returned with my son in full-blown tantrum mode and I had to elicit help from his

Nana and Aunt to remove the remainder of his clothing as he wriggled and squirmed to avoid our grasp. All to no avail as I was determined that he was going be put to bed immediately!

’How do you like having to wear these pyjamas?’ I asked, as Beatrice and I held his 

legs while his Nana dressed him in the pyjama bottoms. There were more frantic efforts to escape as he realized he was being put into his sister’s pair of white, soft brushed cotton pyjamas emblazoned with pink rosebuds. We held him as my mother buttoned him into the pyjama top, fastening the top button to enhance the effect of the pretty Peter Pan collar. How he sobbed as I made him kiss everyone night-night including Alice before asking her to help me tuck him into bed even though it was only 2:30pm. What a story she would have to tell at school on Monday!

On Sunday morning, as a punishment, he was given his bath by his sisters and put 

straight back to bed in a long pink winceyette nightie. I told him that because of his babyish behavior his sister’s would put him to bed as soon as he came in from school, homework and meals would be attended to in bed. I also told him to expect to spend future weekends confined to bed all day. Furthermore he would wear little girl pyjamas or nighties at all times when in the house until I decided otherwise.

Do you think I have been too harsh on him perhaps or even too lenient?  

Your opinions are always welcome

Gertrude Kirchgarten.

Some of the replies to the letter published in Pyjama Punishment Monthly

From Kelly Ann:

No not at all, you are taking control, and showing him who is boss, I know my bf who read this secretly wishes he were in your sons shoes as he loves to dress femme and wear lacy and frilly things. (Mistress Linda)

From Kelly Ann:

You could also then ask that girl to be his baby sitter too and also then sort of have an older female tending to and watching out for the girls and teaching them to be more dominant and helping each other

From Janice Oryan:

Dear Aunt Gertrude;

Congratulations on your treatment of your errant son. How dare he act up in the presence of young ladies and girls? You were right to put him to bed immediately without dinner. In my attachment, I have outlined how this miscreant should be treated.

May I suggest?

After school, he must be bathed by the girls and dressed in pajamas and put in bed with blinds and curtains tightly closed. He should have formula (with medication) and baby food as dinner in bed, (it is much healthier than the junk food older boys crave-no additives or preservatives)(I also suggest when unruly make him eat nasty things like seaweed, stewed cabbage in castor oil OR strained prunes and cod liver oil) do his studies and lights out within one hour of arriving home. What time does he arrive?

On weekends and holidays and the entire summer I suggest:

·        Fulltime bed confinement

·        8:00am - bath by girls, teeth brushing, toilet

·        8:30am - in bed in fresh nightie or girl's pajamas

·        Tucked in with extra quilts and preferably an electric blanket.

·        Have him sleep in a position he dislikes a great deal

·        Brushed flannel sheets to induce sleep

·        Baby doll or stuffed animal to cuddle up with

·        Consider a sleep mask-they work well

·        Baby formula in bottle with medication

·        Medicated suppository if necessary for unruliness

·        Baby pacifier tied in place

·        If very unruly-medicated pacifier filled with castor oil or soap tied in place (The girls will love this)

·        Blinds lowered, curtains (lined of course-hermetically sealed type if possible) tightly closed

·        Window slightly open in good weather so he can hear children playing, birds singing and 

·        An active world he is denied access to

·        Baby monitor and recorder (the latter in case you go out and you need to record his movement)

·        No lights allowed

·        No clock allowed

·        No reading materials, radio or any items he can entertain himself with

·        No visitors

·        Clothes removed from room-closet kept locked

·        Room should be kept very dark

·        He should be told the rules: sleep and be very quiet or else! -No Noise Allowed

·        Door tightly closed and locked

·        Sleep until baby lunch in bed of course-guests allowed to see him and help at lunchtime

·        11:30am - baby lunch

·        Formula and more baby food

·        Toilet, teeth brushing, wash face

·        BED until next morning

·        NO TEA nor DINNER - No guests after lunch - only beneficial sleep, rest and complete quiet

·        Peaceful day with naughty big boy in bed

·        On the holiday you might allow him up in the morning until 11:00am either in pajamas around the house or in bed reading and allowed visitors

·        Earlier bedtimes if punished or his sisters feels he should go to bed-whenever they wish

·        ALWAYS put to bed when you or daughters have guests or you have a party

·        If allowed up-pajamas or nightie only. Street clothes are taboo

·        I have also attached a detailed file on bed punishment for your reference. Thank you Aunt Gertrude and I look forward to more updates from you.

From jk475:

Well I think he should be ready for bed weekdays immediately after he arrives home from school and has dinner in bed, lights out within one half hour upon his arrival.
On weekends for the time being, 12:30pm is more appropriate to prevent him from running around and getting in trouble; if he continues his protesting, then all day on the weekends. 8:30-to bed, sleep till noon and baby lunch then bed till the next morning.
Big boys really need their sleep don't they? Please Aunt Gertrude, we would like to hear more?

From Kelly Ann:

That is only proper and when he does get older tell him he can wear old aged clothing but ones of a more girlish style or what is he wearing now.

From Janice Oryan:

Dear Aunt Gertrude;

It is so delightful to hear that your fifteen-year-old son is treated as the miscreant he really is. Certainly pajama of a child much younger than him has him in tears as well as teaching him a lesson that "when you act like a child, you get treated like one".

Certainly this lad's brashness must be dealt with. I can imagine him protesting that his sister's are younger and they deserve an earlier bedtime. Typical mach boy! His sisters are obviously more mature than he and as noted, help in getting him ready for bed. I applaud that action.

It is quite clear that he has too much time to be up and about. I would suggest that his bedtime start immediately whence he arrives home from school. That is to clean up, brush his teeth and take dinner in bed. His studies once complete, bedtime should be immediately afterwards with lights out, door locked and shades pulled completely down and curtains tightly closed. I would recommend lining his curtains (if not done already) with a special hermetically sealed type to resist 100% of the sunlight. And if he becomes difficult or argumentive, a sedative suppository should be given. Also he should have sleepy time herbal tea at dinner to induce sleep. I further recommend a child monitor to see he is kept quiet and chaste once in bed. Any noise should be severely dealt with of course.

The weekends are a different matter. I see no reason to allow him up to continue being incorrigible and unruly. A preventive cure is needed here. Set back his bedtime to just after lunch and he will take that once in bed. That way there will be no arguing or unruliness at the table. He will forego tea and dinner as well. A sedative suppository and sleepy time tea will help keep him asleep until the next morning.

I am sure your household should be very quiet and happy with this arrangement. Of course all day bedtime for punishment or when you or his sisters deem necessary and definitely to bed before guests or visitors arrive.

I wish you well with this chap and do let us know more about how you discipline him and whether these rules I recommend are to your liking.

Sincerely;

Janice Oryan