Miss Jacobson enjoyed parading me around wearing a selection of nighties and pyjamas she chose on Sunday. Again you can choose and rate your particular favourites.

"I thinks it's time I chose my favourite beddy-byes outfits for you." 

(Miss Jacobson decides)

A weekend of pyjamarings begins with the purpose of aunty deciding which sets of pyjamas she is going to pack for our trip to visit her sister, my aunty Geraldine, next week. She is going to mark each pair out of ten to help her decide. Anyone can join her and mark them accordingly. Later on, I am going to have to model Miss Jacobson's selections.

My Surprise Birthday Pyjamaring

Miss Jacobson decided to celebrate my birthday by holding a pyjama party. She thought it would be amusing if I attended as a naughty girl ready for bed. My aunt eagerly agreed with her and I was taken upstairs and suitably attired in floral pyjamas, pink slippers and a pigtail wig. Miss Jacobson sent me to stand in the corner of the bedroom until the other guests arrived before I was taken downstairs. It was then that I realised I was the only one in pyjamas.

When I protested rather vociferously how unfair it was that I should pyjamaed when no-one else was, it was decided I was behaving like a naughty little girl and as such should be seen and not heard. 

Aunty placed a strip of tape across my mouth and I endured a full hour of humiliating taunts and teases from my Miss Jacobson friends. When the mantelpiece clock chimed six o'clock, Miss Jacobson announced that it was time naughty little girls were tucked up in bed. Aunty insisted I kiss everyone night-night and wave goodbye as aunty led me upstairs.

I was tucked into bed still dressed in my floral winceyette pyjamas and warned not to remove the tape across my mouth unless I wanted a bedtime spanking.

What a birthday.

Oversized Pyjamas Spanking

Strange as it may seem, pyjamas and nighties are not encouraged in UK hospitals these days, they prefer you to wear their a-sexual gowns instead.

Once I was well enough to leave, my aunt and Miss Jacobson were quickly on hand to collect me. However, instead of bringing me clothes to change into  they had bought me only pyjamas and slippers. Of course the pyjamas were far too large and I protested to my aunt but ultimately I had no choice other than to put them on.

During the journey I was shocked to find that instead of driving straight home, we were stopping off at Miss Williams house.  "But I'm in my pyjamas!" I protested as I was bundled out of the car up to the front door.

Miss Williams and her eighteen year old niece Geraldine, were expecting us and not at all surprised to see my dressed only in my jim-jams.

"Now don't be embarrassed," Miss Williams cooed as she handed me a cup of tea. "Miss Jacobson has explained about how you need to wear jimmy-jams all the time, you look very cosy, doesn't he Geraldine?"

"Oh yes aunty," Geraldine replied as she took a seat on the sofa beside me as the three women disappeared into the kitchen.

"Your pyjamas are lovely and soft," she said directly to me as she stroked my pyjama sleeve. "I bet those pyjama bottoms are ever softer too."

"Err maybe." I replied, edging away from her, not knowing how to respond to her strange behaviour.

"Now, now, don't be a naughty boy, you're not trying to get away from Geraldine are you?"

I had reached the arm of the sofa and had no further room to avoid her.

"No..no, of course not it's just that...."

Geraldine changed from stroking my arm to taking a firm grip on it. "I think you are being very rude and need to be punished for your misbehaviour."

She pulled me toward her and I found myself across her lap. "Geraldine please...."

"Rude boys need their bottoms spanked." Ignoring my protests Geraldine began to smack my pyjama clad bottom.

"You're a very...very naughty boy." As her blows intensified, my howls of protestations increased. Aunty, Miss Jacobson and Miss Williams were quickly in the room.

"Oh well done Geraldine, his first post hospital pyjama spanking, keep at it." Encouraged my aunt.

Miss Williams took off one of her slippers. "Here try this."

She handed her niece the slipper  and the three women sat down to enjoy the spectacle.

Miss Jacobson leaned forward as I wriggled and writhed upon Geraldine's lap. 

"Welcome back Wincy. We've missed you."

Miss Jacobson has been irritated by recent comments and wants to make clear certain things.

Serving Pyjamas

Serving Pyjamas

Bedtime Pyjamas Tucked

Bedtime Pyjamas Untucked

I have been made aware of comments that appear to cast doubt on the efficacy of pyjamarings and pyjama discipline for males of all ages. 

Let there be no doubt that myself and Wincy's aunt, along with Mrs Sykes-Patterson, Miss Helen Good and countless other women, have successfully developed Pyjama Punishment to ensure men fulfil their obligation to obey all females.

A good pyjamaring relies on the male being humiliated by being dressed in ridiculous looking pyjamas. As in the first image, Wincy is seen wearing a pair of his serving pyjamas. 

When we entertain guests, we like Wincy to wear a smart waitress apron or a mumsy floral apron to emphasise to our guests that he is present merely to provide to our needs. Please also note how the top button is neatly fastened on his garish patterned winceyette pyjamas. Serving pyjamas should not be too oversized as the pyjamaed male needs to be able to serve tea, drinks, sandwiches etc without tripping and spilling things. 

Once the dishes are washed and dried, Wincy will be sent off to fetch his bedtime pyjamas. These, compared to the serving pyjamas, are at least three times too large and are generally striped. We care nothing for his modesty, and he is usually divested of his serving pyjamas before being buttoned into his bedtime pyjamas. 

Amongst the ranks of the pyjamaring society, there is a difference of opinion as to whether the pyjama jacket should be tucked or untucked into the pyjama bottoms. I myself am in the untucked corner and Wincy's aunt prefers tucked. This is purely up to the female who is performing the pyjamaring and is down to personal choice.

Wincy's bedtime can be anytime up to seven o'clock depending on his behaviour but never later than that. Bedtime spankings are obligatory naturally and any rule breaking is also punishable with spankings.

We are hopeful that Wincy will soon give up the ludicrous idea that he can live independently without the supervision of mature women and can return to his aunts where he will be permanently pyjamaed and receive upwards of four pyjamarings daily. 

I hope this has clarified the situations for the doubting Thomas' out there and I don't wish to read any further comments that somehow males subjected to pyjama discipline are somehow doing this to themselves. This ludicrous suggestion is an insult to all the females who are dedicated to pyjamaring and its benefits.

Yours

Miss Jacobson

A Pyjama Punishment Monthly Letter To Matron

Dear Matron

My mother insists on very early bedtimes even though I am now almost seventeen. It doesn’t matter who is present in our house, my bath time is seven P.M. (after teatime and homework). I then have to be in my pyjamas which she insists have to be the kind that have tie-cord bottoms and a jacket that buttons to the neck and they make me look ridiculous. For seven nights a week I have to be ready for bed by 7:30, in bed by 7:45 with lights out by eight. If I try to protest I am spanked across mother's lap as if I was a little boy.

This bedtime routine applies not only on school days and weekends, but holidays too which I think is particularly unfair. If we are attending a party or function, we always leave early with my mother explaining to everyone that it is getting near to my bedtime and she need to get me home so I can be bathed and put into my pyjamas.

What is even more humiliating was what occurred last Christmas. We were at a family party and my aunt, at my mothers suggestion, had gifted me striped pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers. Mother insisted on changing me into my new bedtime outfit before leaving the family party so she could, "just pop him straight into bed when we get home.”
I have two younger cousins, Peter and Rebecca and I shudder to think how embarrassed I was sitting in my night attire like a little boy while they were still dressed in their day clothes.

Mother thinks children should not grow up too fast and has never considered my early bedtimes to be a punishment. However, when I am being put to bed at 8 pm in the middle of summer with the sound of much younger children playing in their back gardens until after dark it certainly feels like one.

Mother had indicated that my early bedtimes will continue until I am at least eighteen and it is nothing to do with me what kind of pyjamas I wear.

Would you please write to my mother and persuade her to stop treating me like a little boy and let me have a later bedtime?

Michael.

Matron Replies

Dear Michael

Under no circumstances will I be writing to your mother recommending that she change your bedtime. I may well write to her to tell her about your letter and to advise she imposes an even earlier bedtime and increase the amount of spankings she administers. Who do you think you are questioning your mothers decisions? If she thinks you need an eight o'clock bedtime then that is her decision to make. At seventeen you are still a minor and must obey your mother, it is up to her what pyjamas you wear and what time you go to bed so knuckle down, do as you are told and she may let you stay up until nine o'clock when you turn eighteen.

Matron

Chris Schneider’s Bedtime Nightmare. This is a story contributed by Chris. English is not his first language but he still managed to write an excellent story.

Chris Schneider’s Bedtime Nightmare


Chris Schneider’s mother believes in an old-fashioned approach when it comes to raising children. Unlike other children his age, Chris has to make sure he is always well mannered, does well in school, takes care of his daily and weekly chores and has a non-negotiable bedtime of 7.45 pm which, for a fifteen-year-old boy, he considers to be ridiculously early.

Mrs Schneider is a non-nonsense type of lady. If Chris acts up or fails to complete any of his chores there are consequences. Chris knows this only too well. For the most part he tries to stay out of trouble but being a fifteen-year-old boy there are times when his mum must punish him. 

Every morning his mother lays out his clothes for the day. Chris knows not to argue with her and for the most part he is happy to wear whatever his mother has chosen for him. 

One Saturday in July, Chris is on summer break. He spends a lot of time with his mother helping her around the house. Most kids his age ride their bikes, go to the pool and get into all sorts of mischief but Chris is not allowed outside without supervision and sometimes he wishes that he could just take his bike and go exploring around town instead of having to do chores. 

He and his mum are at the table having lunch. Chris is wearing red gym shorts, a white shirt, white socks and brown leather sandals. Mrs Schneider informs him about her plans for the rest of the day. 

“Darling, as the weather is so good we will go for a walk into town after lunch and later Mrs Miller and her daughter Helen, are coming for tea, she’s only a year younger than you isn’t she?” Chris nodded, he wasn’t too keen on Helen Miller, it was true she was only fourteen, but she was much bigger than Chris and the last time they had met she had teased him about his lack of stature.

After lunch Mrs Schneider tells Chris to go and wash his hands and face and change into the outfit she has put out for him. Chris goes to his room and finds his navy shorts and a white shirt. He changes into his outfit and goes back to the living room to tell mum that he is ready. They leave the house and head up toward the main street. Chris and his mum talk about all sorts of stuff. At one point Mrs Schneider asks him if there was anything that he wants to tell her about, something that perhaps happened last night for instance? He shakes his head, “no mum nothing.”

Mrs Schneider looks at him, “Chris, does mummy need to be cross with you?”  Nervously he replies.“No mum, I’ve been good, I promise.” She gives him a stern look.

“Mrs Davis, told me she saw a light in your bedroom late last night. You know you are not allowed to turn the light on after I have tucked you in.”  

Chris is speechless for a second as he attempts to think up an excuse. 

“Mum I had a nightmare and got scared but I didn’t want to admit being frightened so put the light on for a minute or two.” 

Mrs Schneider interrupts him. “Mrs Davis told me your light was on for almost twenty minutes, it was 8.30 before it was turned off.” 

Chris now knew that he was in trouble and all he could do is apologise. “I'm sorry, mum. I didn’t mean to be naughty.” Mrs Schneider was not impressed with his lack of truthfulness and as they continued their walk, she told her son.

“I can’t allow your misbehaviour and lies to go unpunished, there will have to be consequences.” Chris feels a knot in his stomach. He is annoyed that he was caught, after all, it is summer and the other kids get to stay up late so why can’t he too? 

They approach the general store and Mrs Schneider goes inside. The lady behind the counter Mrs Brown greets Mrs Schneider as they have known each other for many years. 

Mrs Schneider asks to see some slippers, mentioning Chris has been naughty and requires a proper slipper spanking. Chris realises why his mother has delayed his punishment as her old spanking slippers have worn out and Chris shifts nervously from one foot to the other as his mother selects a sturdy pair with rubber soles. “Yes I’ll take those ones please, they feel just right for spanking naughty boys.” She looked menacingly at Chris, and Mrs Brown suppresses a snigger as she put the slippers in a bag and hands them across.

Chris is too embarrassed to say anything as they leave the store. “We shall go straight home now and teach you a lesson about honesty and truthfulness.” 

When they arrive home, Mrs Schneider tells Chris to stand in the corner until she is ready to deal with him. Eventually, she enters the living room and tells him to come and stand next to the sofa. His mum begins by scolding him.

“Chris, you know I won’t tolerate you lying to mummy. If I tell you it’s bedtime I mean bedtime, that means no lights on, no playing, no reading. A boy of your age needs your sleep.”  As she scolds him she removes his shorts and makes him step out of them. She lowers his underpants and positions him ready to go across her lap. 

Chris pleaded with his mum not to spank him. “Please mummy I promise I won’t be naughty again. Please don’t spank me.” 

Ignoring his entreaties, she put him over her knees and once in position begins to spank him. Steady swats of her new slipper alternate on each of his buttocks until they are both various shades of red. Finally, she stops and caresses each buttock with circular movements of her hands as Chris sobs.

“There. It’s finished now, dry those tears. Now go to the bathroom, wash your face and meet me in your room.”

Chris’s room is rather spartan. There are a desk, a chair, a bookshelf and a bed.

As he enters, he sees that on his bed she had laid out baby powder, nappy cream, a pile of soft white flannelette nappies, blue plastic baby pants and a pale blue pair of footed, winceyette pyjamas.

“Mummy, please don’t make me wear my baby clothes in front of the Millers.” He begs.

“You should have thought of that before you decided to misbehave, it’s too late for apologies now.” She pats the bed, “come along, lie down.”

Mrs Schneider places three of the nappies on the bed and lifts up his legs so she can slip them underneath him, she applies nappy cream then baby powder to his groin and sprinkles some on her hands before rubbing the powder in and then fastens the nappy snugly with large nappy pins.

Happy that his nappies are tightly pinned, she puts his legs into the plastic pants pulling them up to make sure his nappy is fully covered. 

“There’s a good little baby boy,” she coos as she swings Chris’s legs around until they dangle over the side of his bed.

“Now, footsies into your jammies.” His mum holds the legs of his footed pyjamas, so he can push his feet into them. The pale blue pyjamas are made of winceyette and have a motif of hopping white bunnies. Once his feet are ensconced in the jim-jams, she pulls the rest of the garment up and put his arms into the sleeves. Mum turns his around so she can button him into them, the pyjamas were sewn especially to button up the back by a friend of his mum, Miss Dobson so Chris couldn’t remove them unaided.

“There, now. You're all ready for beddy-byes,” his mum tells him as she fusses with the collar of his pyjamas and pats his nappy. “Still nice and dry? Clever babykins.”

Chris knows that once he is nappied and wearing his babyish pyjamas, his mum always reverts to talking to him as if he were a baby. He is anxious, for he knows that in a few minutes Mrs Miller and Helen will be arriving and he will have to face them wearing his nappies, plastic baby pants and his babyish, footed pyjamas. 

The doorbell rings. Mrs Miller enters the living room followed by her daughter. Prompted by his mum, Chris gets up to greet the Millers. He knows that disobeying at this point would only make his embarrassment worse. 

Mrs Miller looks quizzically amused at Chris as he mumbles his hellos.

“Those are interesting pyjamas you’re wearing, are you not feeling well?” 

Mrs Schneider looks at Mrs Miller and explains. 

“No Mary, he is quite well, but those are his naughty boy pyjamas. Chris misbehaved and is now being punished. He won’t be joining us for tea as I will be putting him to bed shortly. Naughty boys like him don’t get to stay up late, do they?” 

Chris kept his head low but his mum was having none of it and looked at him angrily. 

“I asked you a question, and I require an answer. Do naughty boys get to stay up late?” Poor Chris was red with embarrassment and shook his head. “No mum, naughty boys don’t get to stay up late.”

Satisfied, his mum tells Chris to sit on the floor like a baby so that Helen and her mother can be comfortable on the sofa. Helen looked pointedly at the clock on the wall then directly at Chris sitting forlornly in front of her.

“I’m curious, Chris, what did you do to earn your early bedtime, you must have been very naughty?” She asked mischievously, knowing his mum would insist he answer her.

Chris looked up at Helen, he could tell she was relishing his discomfort at being on display wearing his nappies and babyish pyjamas. 

His voice was soft and timid as he recounted how he had put his bedside lamp on after lights out and then lied about it to his mother.

“Dear me, such a naughty boy, no wonder you have been bathed and put into your nappies and pyjamas this early, I hope mummy gave you a smacked bottom too.”

His mother answered. “You can be sure of that Helen, he was crying like a baby after I’d finished spanking him.”

Helen gave a little laugh.“ Much deserved by the sound of it and does Chris have more lovely pyjamas like these to remind him that he is a naughty little boy?“ 

“Oh yes, he has Bob the Builder pyjamas and a pair with Choo-choo trains on too.” Don’t you Chris?

He nodded miserably, “yes mum.”

“How sweet, perhaps I could babysit Chris some time? I would love to bath him and put him into his jimmy-jams ready for beddy-byes.”

His mum clapped her hands. “Why, Helen that’s a marvellous idea, your mother and I could have a night at the cinema and I wouldn’t have to worry about Chris, you could bath him, put him into his pyjamas and tuck him into bed at bedtime. Oh, this is a wonderful idea.”

Chris was appalled. “But mum, that’s not fair! Helen is a year younger than I am. She can’t babysit me.” 

Immediately, he regretted his outburst but it was too late.

“Mary, would you mind if Helen assists me while I deal with this naughty boy?” Mrs Miller nods enthusiastically as Mrs Schneider hauls Chris up from the floor and orders him to go say goodnight to Mrs Miller and apologise for the trouble he has caused. 

Mrs Schneider grabbed Chris by the upper arm and marched him up to his room accompanied by Helen. 

“Check to see if his nappy is still dry would you please,” she asks the fourteen - year-old. Eagerly Helen sits on the bed and hauls Chris onto her lap as though he were a toddler and checks his nappy. “All nice and dry Mrs Schneider,” she announces before asking why Chris was actually wearing a nappy.

“That’s part of his punishment. I always use infantile clothing to punish infantile behaviour, of course you must do the same if need be when you babysit him.”

Mrs Schneider closed the blinds and the new black out curtains and removes the lamp at his bedside. “No lamps any more for baby Chris,” she tells him.

Despite the sunlight outside it’s now almost totally dark inside Chris’s room except for the light that enters from the open bedroom door. 

“So what time does Chris usually go to bed?” Asks Helen.

“On weekdays at 8 pm and on weekends at 8.30 pm but when he is being punished for a week then he is bathed and put into nappies and pyjamas at six and tucked into bed by seven at the latest seven days a week. On special occasions such as now, he is pyjamaed, nappied and put to bed as soon as possible. Would you feel comfortable, following such a disciplinary schedule?”

Helen smiles, looking at Chris in his babyish footie pyjamas she replies. 

“Of course, in fact, I would be able to walk Chris home from school and get him ready for beddy-byes straight away.”

Chris whimpers in despair as he listens to their conversation but his protest is ignored as Mrs Schneider switches on the baby monitor, pulls back the bedclothes and instructs him to get into bed. Chris climbs in, Helen and his mum tuck him in tightly and each kisses him night-night. 

As the door closes behind them, the light in his room completely disappears. Fifteen-year-old Chris lies in the darkness tucked tightly into bed wearing nappies and infantile footed pyjamas, tears roll down his cheeks. Chris has a long future of nappies, pyjamas and early bedtimes ahead of him.  

Phillip posted a comment on, "An early bedtime and pyjama punishment regime imposed on Simon by strict Auntie Beatrice." Which was originally posted 9th December 2013 and remains by far the most popular post on the blog. I enjoyed Phillip's comment so have re-produced it as a post in its own right.

Dear Auntie Beatrice

You so remind me of my Mummy. When I was sixteen I too started to get into mischief and mixed with the wrong company. My Mummy immediately put me back into school short trousers and started not only to collect me from school but she also took me there. I had to hold her hand all the time and if I resisted, a firm few smacks across the back of my legs soon reminded me that Mummy was in charge.

When we arrived home it was bath time immediately and then I was put straight into pyjamas ready for bed, and of course my pyjamas were sewn especially for me and were very babyish as they were baby blue and had pictures of Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore.

My bedtime was put back to 6.30 pm on school nights,Saturday was special as I was allowed to stay up until 7 pm, although I had to be bathed and in my pyjamas by 5 pm.

On Sunday, because I had school the next day, bedtime was very early at 5 pm and Mummy would put me into my pyjamas ready for bed at 3 pm as my aunt and her daughter Janice always came for tea. It was very embarrassing as Janice was only thirteen and I had to kiss her and my aunt night-night before Mummy took me up to bed.

Sometimes it was even worse, if I was due a bedtime spanking I would be put across Mummy’s lap for a smacked bottom while aunty and Janice looked on appearing to enjoy my humiliation.

Mummy continued to discipline me this way until I was eighteen. Thanks to her intervention my school performance improved and I went off to University where I met my future wife, but that is another story.

Phillip Jones

Wife Enforces Early Bedtime On Babykins Husband

Nappied and Spanked. Michael has sent an account of his life style.

Hello everybody.

I wanted to share my experience with you. Growing up I was always really small for my age and I tended to get along with younger children better than my own age. Puberty was very delayed and being really small I looked very young even in my early 20's. My mother used to just say I was immature for my age and still a little boy.

I had the exact same rules and routines at 20 that I had when I was 7. In the morning either my mother or sister would wake me at 6:30. I was not allowed out of bed without permission. After breakfast mother would dress me in my clothes for the day which was usually shorts and a t-shirt in the summer and long pants and longer shirt in the winter. For underwear mother always dressed me in girls briefs with childish and girly prints. I was small so I could easily fit in childish clothes.

I always had to take an hour nap after lunch around 12:30. I never slept during this time but mother used to say my nap was more for, "adult quiet time", and I didn't have to sleep if I'm not tired but I had to at least lay quietly. After my nap, if it was summer and we were staying home mother would usually dress me in shortalls and sandals and send me outside to play in the yard. But I always had to stay where she could see me.

Bath time was always around 5:00 or 5:30. My mother or sister would call me inside and undress me in the kitchen near the laundry room. It didn't matter if mother or sister had friends over visiting, mother used to say little boys don't need privacy. I had to hold mother or sister's hand when I got taken upstairs to the bathtub and got washed. After my bath I was put in a girls nightie and sent back downstairs to play quietly in the living room.

My nighties were my sister's hand me downs from but they fitted me perfectly, they were quite short and came to my waist. Once I had my nightie on either my mother or sister would diaper me before bed. At 7:15 I was sent to brush my teeth and wash my face and hands. Then I would hold mother or sister's hand and say goodnight to everyone and taken upstairs to bed at 7:30.

I had stopped wetting the bed when I was 14 or but mother still made me wear nappies from bedtime until after breakfast when she got me dressed the next day. 

Mother was reluctant to allow me to be unsupervised so my sister, who was four years younger than I was, began babysitting me when I was 18. By then, she was much taller than me and much more mature. If she had plans with her friends then mother would get our neighbours daughter, Rosalind, to babysit me. Of course the girls had full responsibility for giving me a bath and nappying me for bed and they were also allowed to spank me if I had a tantrum or was naughty.

The first time she babysat me, Miss Rosalind, as I had to call her, told me it was bath time, I pulled a face and continued to play with my toys, she immediately put me over her knee and I received a very hard spanking as well as time in the corner. I quickly learned to do what I was told and never disobeyed her again although I still received quite a few more spankings from her.

I was finally allowed to start going out alone but only to places mother approved of. I met my wife at a church event I was 24 and she was 19 but she had a really mature attitude but I remember being worried about her finding out about my home life. Mother invited her over for dinner and of course all my rules were the same. She was surprised at first but they talked about it after I got put to bed. She told me she agreed with mothers treatment of me and if we continued dating she would begin treating me in the same manner. We married two years later and now my wife and I live with her mother.

I still have most of the same rules I had growing up. I get up on my own at 6:30 and go down and eat breakfast. My wife lays out my clothes on the bed and I get dressed after she takes my nappy off. I go to work and come home on my own but I have to wear a GPS tracker watch so she knows where I am. I'm still given a bath at 5:30, but my mother-in-law however, insisted that I be put to bed wearing long flannelette nighties as she believes that dressed as such I am more respectably attired when her friends are over. Bedtime is now 7 pm and I still get put in a nappy for bed. I respectfully asked my wife and mother-in-law for a later bedtime but all I received was a spanking.

When my wife goes out she usually asks her mother or younger cousin to babysit me. I wish she would let me stay home alone but she insists I still require a babysitter. It's embarrassing still being washed, dressed, and nappied by her family or friends. Even though I'm older I still have to say goodnight to “grown ups” when I’m nappied and in my nightie. Treating adults with respect is my main priority  and it's always expected of me that I address people as aunt or mummy and I must never use first names. If I ever make a mistake or misbehave I still get spanked and put to bed early which is very embarrassing when a roomful of women are present.

Thank you

Michael

Life with mummy

Sunday to Thursday Daily Routine.

6.00 Wake, shower and get dressed for work.

7.00 Inspection by mummy. 4.45 Home from work, milky drink.

5.00 Bath-time and put into my Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. 

6.00 Supper time.

6.30 Play time. Colour  picture for mummy.

7.00 Bedtime. Tucked into bed, windows and curtains closed. Story time. 

7.15 Lights out. Reminder that mummy loves me and kissed goodnight.

Friday and Saturday

  8.30 Woken by mummy, downstairs wearing my pyjamas and slippers.

  9.00 Breakfast time

  9.30 Dressed in my sailor suit

 10.00 Shopping with mummy 

 12.00 Lunchtime

 1.30 Afternoon nap.

 2.30 Play time. 

 5.15 Bath time and put into my pink footed pyjamas. 

 6.00 Supper time.

 6.30 Quiet playtime. 

 7.00 Cuddle time on mummy's lap

 7.30 Bedtime.Tucked into bed, windows and curtains closed. Story time

 7.45 Lights out. Reminder that mummy loves me and to be a good boy. Kissed goodnight. 

Teddy Bear Pyjamas

These are the pyjamas I ended up wearing! Aunty and Miss Jacobson couldn't agree which pair of floral pyjamas I should wear so they compromised and decided my Teddy Bear pyjamas would be a perfect alternative. Lady Clutterbuck, and her young companion Miss Annette Kirton certainly enjoyed my embarrassment at having to wear such babyish pyjamas in their presence and when I nervously spilt tea on Miss Kirton's blouse, Aunty gave permission for her to spank me for my carelessness. Young Miss Kirton eagerly took up the offer and I found myself draped across her lap having my "naughty boys bottom" soundly smacked  until I was quite tearful. I was made to stand in the corner with my pyjama bottoms down showing my red and sore bottom for twenty minutes before I was sent to bed.

The next day, Aunty left me in the care of Miss Jacobson who decreed that I should spend the day pyjama punished doing various chores around her spacious home. Miss Jacobson closely supervised me and I received plenty of "encouragement" smacked bottoms as I failed to complete my tasks to her satisfaction. By the time I was presented with a pile of ironing, I had been on the go for seven hours without a break. Terrified of annoying Miss Jacobson I nervously ironed her voluminous winceyette nightgowns. Luckily I succeeded and I was relieved to be tucked up in bed at six pm.

A Puzzling Pyjamaring Problem

My Aunt and Miss Jacobson disagreed about my afternoon pyjamaring last Saturday. Both had chosen different pairs of pink floral winceyette pyjamas but my aunt wanted to put me into a pair of frilly pink floral pyjamas to greet her visitors Lady Clutterbuck, and her young companion Miss Annette Kirton. My Aunt thought the frilled collar and cuffs and the pink floral design would be smart and sensible for my tea dispensing duties.

Miss Jacobson, however, preferred to see me dressed in her chosen traditional style pyjamas because when I had previously worn them we discovered the elasticated waistband on the pyjama bottoms was not as secure as it once was. My pyjama bottoms had gradually lowered themselves as I performed my household tasks and Miss Jacobson, assured my aunt that Lady Clutterbuck and Annette Kirton, would find this tremendously amusing and that my bottom would be bared with my pyjama bottoms around my ankles ready to go across the assembled females laps for my early bedtime spankings.

Which pair do you think I eventually ended up wearing?

Whilst recuperating at my aunts, she and Miss Jacobson ensured I was permanently attired in pyjamas for the duration of my stay. Bedtime was set at 5 pm with no exceptions and any attempt at dissension was dealt with by my being put across one of their laps for a pyjama spanking.

A selection of sissy nighties that aunty and Miss Jacobson enjoy dressing me in

Some examples of what I would describe as Sissy Pyjamas

A comment was left that suggested they considered Baby-Doll pyjamas as sissy nightwear. I know plenty of people would agree but for me they are not. Sissy pyjamas as far as I am concerned, should make the pyjamaed male appear ridiculous and infantile.After being forcibly dressed in such a demeaning way, it is entirely suitable that assembled females should seek to humiliate and degrade the male until he is firmly under their control.

An Appointment with Matron

Although Philip was wearing his warmest winceyette pyjamas, it wasn’t the draught in the corridor that made him shiver, no. It was the stomach-churning anticipation of what was to come.
As a senior boy, he knew Matron would not be in a forgiving mood about their flagrant breach of the rules.

It had been humiliating to be made to change into pyjamas and slippers as if they were first-year squirts, everyone in the senior dorm had witnessed their embarrassment as Matron stood and watched them remove their uniforms and don their pyjamas.

How long was it since she had marched them both down to stand and wait outside her room, twenty, thirty minutes? He didn't know. It felt like a very long time until she had opened her door and beckoned Godfrey inside. 

From behind the door he could hear the rhythmic thwack of Mrs Knight’s cane. He counted to four when he first heard Godfrey react, “owww!”

The next strike of her cane brought forth more of a canine yelp. The sixth stroke was when Godfrey finally gave up the pretence of being brave and emitted a full blown sob.

Matron's door opened. Unable to look directly at his friend, Godfrey slithered quickly out, but not so quick that Philip failed to notice his friend's tear-stained face. 

Philip just had time to witness the pyjama clad figure scurry down the corridor clutching frantically at his chastised bottom before Mrs Knight appeared.

“Come in please Master Philip.” It always meant unpleasantness when Matron used that particular prefix, emphasising a junior status.

“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that you, a senior boy and a prefect to boot, should have behaved in such a manner. Luckily PJ had the good sense to come and tell me what you two were up to.” 

Suddenly it was all clear. Tradman! The swine, he thought, just you wait. 

Matron continued her lecture. “I hold you entirely responsible for this escapade Philip, there is no way Godfrey would have behaved in this fashion without your influence. Therefore your punishment must be harsher.”

She was aware of his nervousness and paused for a moment to study his reaction to her admonishment before sitting herself down on her chair. She patted her lap, “over you go please Philip.”

At first, he didn’t comprehend her meaning until she spoke again, this time more sharply.
“Philip! Over my lap, now boy.” Nervously, he took two steps forward and found himself lying across her lap.

“I thought you were a sensible mature boy Philip, someone who could be trusted and yet I discover you were involved in a most immature escapade. Therefore I have decided to punish you as I would a first-year, with an over the knee slipper spanking, a case of the punishment fitting the crime as it were.”

“Nnnn..no… matron please..” he stuttered as he lay helpless across her ample lap. 
Mrs Knight picked up her fur-trimmed spanking slipper, circling his pyjamaed bottom with her palm searching for the optimum position to begin his spanking. Philip tensed his buttocks, wishing fervently that he was being caned instead of this demeaning spanking.

Her slipper made contact with his bottom only four times before he began flailing his legs in reaction to the hurt. However, years of slipper spanking experience gave Mrs Knight the advantage and she altered the position of her left arm to maintain her firm grip before repeating the dose. By now, he was yelling, weeping and promising to be a good boy in future. She stopped. Philip felt a sense of relief even though he was breathing heavily, his heart racing as he lay draped forlornly across her lap. 

Then, much to his horror, he felt matron pulling at the cord of his pyjamas then tugging them down to reveal his bare bottom.

“Not very red at all Philip." I must be losing my touch. Let’s see if I can make your bottom blush as much as your face shall I?”

For the next five minutes, Mrs Knight spanked, paused to lecture, spanked and paused again. His slippers flew off and the legs of his pyjama bottoms flapped wildly as his pleas for her to stop reached full volume. Her hand gently circled his very red, very sore bare bottom. “There, that’s much better isn’t it?” she asked without expecting a reply.

“Right, up you get Philip.” As he rolled off her lap and stood, his pyjama bottoms puddled at his feet. Quickly, he raised them to his waist, his fingers fumbled with the tie-cord. 

“Allow me.” Matron maintained eye contact with him as she grasped the pyjama cord. Her arms encircled his body and as she drew them back together, she made sure to enclose the hem of his pyjama jacket inside the pyjama bottoms before she fastened the cord into a double bow.

“Much more little boy like,” she commented before reminding him to repossess his slippers.

Unlike Godfrey, who had been allowed to scamper tearfully away on his own, matron escorted Philip all the way back to his dormitory. Godfrey had already washed his tear-stained face and dressed, ready for the refectory and only his somewhat awkward gait gave a hint of what had befallen him. 

PJ Tradman was loitering there too, although Philip was trying to conceal his tear-streaked face he could have sworn he saw him smirk as he passed. Philip picked up his towel and made to head for the cloakroom and the sanctuary of the showers.

Mrs Knight halted him by grabbing at the collar of his pyjama jacket. “No you don’t Philip, you will attend the refectory dressed in your pyjamas and slippers just as first-year pupils do who have been slipper-spanked, furthermore you will continue to do so for the next two days.” 

He could hardly comprehend her words, the shame of appearing in the refectory in his pyjamas and slippers like a naughty first year was going to be disastrous for his image with the sixth form girls.

Matron continued, “since you have behaved like a little boy I have no option other than to treat you like one. Therefore your official bedtime for the next three days will also mimic that of the first years.”

Philip couldn’t believe it, an eight o’clock bedtime for three nights, oh the shame!