Tuesday, 30 October 2012
Aunty administers a pyjama spanking.
Aunty had come home early and found me dozing on the sofa instead of cutting the lawn. "Well, you must be very tired indeed to be sleepy at 2pm.Perhaps it's best if I put you to bed for a very early night. You just lie there while I fetch your pyjamas." Despite my protestations Aunty soon had me ready for bed. "I think a smacked botty before bedtime is necessary too don't you agree?" I didn't but that could not prevent aunty from hauling me across her lap and lowering my pyjama bottoms for a bedtime spanking. "Right. let's get you tucked into beddy-byes shall we." Nursing my sore bottom, I pointed out it was only 2.30 in the afternoon. "I think a week of 2.30 bedtimes will focus your mind on your chores in future, yes that includes the weekend too. Come along, time for bed."
Monday, 29 October 2012
Nanny Smackbottom finishes her tea before she administers a maternal spanking to Sissy Babykins
How wonderful to be in Sissy's place wearing his cosy long nightdress. Imagine standing there, clad only in your sissy nightie, facing Nanny who patiently sips her tea. Perhaps she is contemplating how severe to make this, his second spanking of the day. Will she lift up his nightiie to expose his bare bottom or will she merely spank over the brused cotton material of his winceyette nightie? Either way, once his punishment is complete Sissy will be despatched to bed at a ridiculously early hor of the day. Once esconced in beddy-byes he can reflect on his foolishness in misplacing his mitten.
Saturday, 27 October 2012
Another dose of early bedtime discipline from Aunty.
When Aunty came to visit unexpected she was furious to find me still in my day clothes at 3pm. Why wasn't I ready for bed she demanded to know? My excuse that all my pyjamas were in the wash cut no ice with Aunty and she went out to her car and came back with one of her nighties and a quilted dressing gown. In no time I was undressed, made to put on her nightie and sent to the naughty seat. I sat listening fearfully as Aunty rang her friends and made arrangement for them to rendezvous at my house. After I had spent time contemplating the error of my ways I was made to put on the dressing gown ready to receive her guests. I spent two hours serving tea and washing up before I was put across Aunty's lap for an early bedtime spanking.Tearfully I was made to say goodnight to each of Aunty's friends and she took me up to bed at 6pm.
Wednesday, 3 October 2012
This is a re-posting of Thomas' story. I have edited it a bit and corrected the typos, I have also included a picture of the kind of pyjamas that Aunty Susan first dresses Thomas in. I hope he forgives me for the changes as Thomas had his character being put into a nightie.
A Summer Holiday with my Aunt
By Thomas
This story is about the time I spent my summer
holidays with my
aunt because my mother who worked as a travel agent had the
opportunity to work abroad and needed some one to look after me.
aunt because my mother who worked as a travel agent had the
opportunity to work abroad and needed some one to look after me.
I was 15 at the time and almost 16 .
"Susan, I hate to ask you this but could you look after Thomas for
me over the school holidays, he’s been a bit of a problem lately ,
cheeky, won’t go to bed at a decent time, the usual really and I
couldn’t trust him on his own, I don’t want to miss this
opportunity and you're so good with unruly children.”
"If I agree, then he’s to obey my rules , I won’t put up with cheek
and he’s not too old to be put to bed with a spanked bottom. I’ll
expect him to help me around the house as well, but I’d wouldn’t mind the company , I’m a bit lonely since the girls left home and there’s plenty to do around
the place.”
The place was a small holding on the Fens that her husband had given
her as part of a painful divorce and she was coming close to 50 but
still extremely strong as I was to find out .
"This is a giant favour Susan, he breaks up next Friday I will bring him then, rest assured he’s will obey your rules, won't you Thomas?" This was the first time my presence had even been acknowledged and somewhat huffily I began to voice my protest at being farmed out without being consulted.
"Susan, I hate to ask you this but could you look after Thomas for
me over the school holidays, he’s been a bit of a problem lately ,
cheeky, won’t go to bed at a decent time, the usual really and I
couldn’t trust him on his own, I don’t want to miss this
opportunity and you're so good with unruly children.”
"If I agree, then he’s to obey my rules , I won’t put up with cheek
and he’s not too old to be put to bed with a spanked bottom. I’ll
expect him to help me around the house as well, but I’d wouldn’t mind the company , I’m a bit lonely since the girls left home and there’s plenty to do around
the place.”
The place was a small holding on the Fens that her husband had given
her as part of a painful divorce and she was coming close to 50 but
still extremely strong as I was to find out .
"This is a giant favour Susan, he breaks up next Friday I will bring him then, rest assured he’s will obey your rules, won't you Thomas?" This was the first time my presence had even been acknowledged and somewhat huffily I began to voice my protest at being farmed out without being consulted.
"That's quite enough from you Thomas," mum said
interrupting me, "any more cheek and you'll be put straight into your
pyjamas and sent to bed when we get back home."
Aunt Susan said, "It's good to hear you're still
punishing him with early bedtimes, that means I can do the same. See you soon
Thomas."
All the way home I was seething that mum had let Aunt
Susan know she still used pyjama and
early bedtimes on me but held my counsel, I had an idea.
The final week of school passed and I promised mum that I would be a
good boy when I was at Susan’s, and so we arrived at 2 ‘o’ clock.
Mum had a cup of tea with Aunty, then she left me with a good-bye kiss.
The final week of school passed and I promised mum that I would be a
good boy when I was at Susan’s, and so we arrived at 2 ‘o’ clock.
Mum had a cup of tea with Aunty, then she left me with a good-bye kiss.
When she’d gone the first thing Susan said was,"
while you're here you
will call me Aunty Susan or Aunty, now let’s get you unpacked , follow
me .”
will call me Aunty Susan or Aunty, now let’s get you unpacked , follow
me .”
I followed her upstairs to a bedroom at the back of the house, which
was just as her daughter had left it.
The room was decorated in a very feminine way with flower motif wallpaper, teddy bears sat scattered on the bedroom furniture, the curtains were pink and
the bed itself had fluffy white frilly pillows to match a frilly
white cover .
My suitcase was on the bed and it was some trepidation as I watched aunty remove my clothes and put them into drawers and hang them up. When the last of them were out and put away, Susan said in a cross voice, "where are your pyjamas?”
This was my moment, I drew myself up to my full height of five foot two.
"Aunty Susan, I don’t want to wear pyjamas anymore,
I'm almost sixteen so I
haven’t packed any. Men of my age sleep in their underwear of naked as I propose to do.”
haven’t packed any. Men of my age sleep in their underwear of naked as I propose to do.”
Her face betrayed her anger, "You, a man, don't make me laugh, look at the size of you, you're nothing but a misbehaving naughty little boy. And if you think you are sleeping naked on my clean bedding think again. If your mother knew what you were up to she would tan your backside, I know very well she insists you wear pyjamas for bed and I am certainly going to enforce that rule whilst you are under my roof!”
This tirade against me was shouted in a loud voice and I
was certain I had misjudged what her reaction would be most definitely.
"You just stand right there." She said angel as
she left the room, coming back moments later with a bundle of clothes in her
arms.
"Let’s see if these will make you regret you didn't
pack any pyjamas of your own, my daughters old nightclothes have just found a
new owner, you!"
Aunty put the clothes on the bed, I could see now that they were indeed girls winceyette pyjamas. There was a pink pair with white flowers and a white pair with pink flowers. Aunty also placed a nightdress on the bed which was also made from soft yellow winceyette and had frilly cuffs and a lacy neckline, it seemed to have a lot of buttons as well.
Aunty put the clothes on the bed, I could see now that they were indeed girls winceyette pyjamas. There was a pink pair with white flowers and a white pair with pink flowers. Aunty also placed a nightdress on the bed which was also made from soft yellow winceyette and had frilly cuffs and a lacy neckline, it seemed to have a lot of buttons as well.
"Come here," aunty commanded. Aunty held the
jackets and trousers of the pyjamas against me and said," these will do
fine , a little bit big but nice and
comfortable the nightdress you will wear when you've been particularly
naughty which I have no doubt will not be unusual!”
I had never envisaged this scenario when I deliberately lied to my mum about packing four pairs of pyjamas. Aunty Susan had taken me by surprise and I desperately tried to backtrack. "Please Aunty, I don’t want to wear girls pyjamas especially the nightie, can't we go to town tomorrow and I will use my pocket money to buy new pyjamas, I promise."
The next thing that happened was totally unexpected.
Aunty turned me around and pushed me face down on the bed ,with one
hand she held me and with the other pulled off my shoes and socks, then my
trousers and underpants, then she pulled me up and removed the t-shirt I
was wearing until I was totally naked.
comfortable the nightdress you will wear when you've been particularly
naughty which I have no doubt will not be unusual!”
I had never envisaged this scenario when I deliberately lied to my mum about packing four pairs of pyjamas. Aunty Susan had taken me by surprise and I desperately tried to backtrack. "Please Aunty, I don’t want to wear girls pyjamas especially the nightie, can't we go to town tomorrow and I will use my pocket money to buy new pyjamas, I promise."
The next thing that happened was totally unexpected.
Aunty turned me around and pushed me face down on the bed ,with one
hand she held me and with the other pulled off my shoes and socks, then my
trousers and underpants, then she pulled me up and removed the t-shirt I
was wearing until I was totally naked.
“You are a cheeky, naughty, very little boy."
she said unkindly as she slapped my hands away from my attempt to cover my
nakedness. Well you’ll soon be tucked up good and early in bed and if your
lucky a 5 ‘o’ clock bed time for you is the bet you can hope for all of next
week!”
She positioned me over her knee and began a very hard and fast spanking,
She positioned me over her knee and began a very hard and fast spanking,
"Well we know now that your behaviour warrants an
early bedtime and your cousins pink pyjamas will suit you just fine so I have
saved you some money haven't I?"
I had thought I would easily be able to resist my aunt
but, like my mother she was deceptively strong and she kept me pinioned on her
lap while she spanked and scolded me. At first I tried to be brave but after a
good 5 minutes my bottom was
glowing red all over and my struggles to free myself had left me exhausted.
glowing red all over and my struggles to free myself had left me exhausted.
Aunty sensed my
rebellion was almost over, "are you going to be a good little boy for
Aunty Susan and do exactly as you are told or do you want me to continue
spanking you,?" She asked.
Through my tears I could only nod my acquiescence but this
wasn't good enough for aunty, she was determined to break me across her lap.
"
Say, "I promise to wear my pretty girls jimmy-jams
and be a good little boy for Aunty Susan. Say it!" She spanked my bare
bottom once more and I blurted out the words from behind my sobs.
"Please aunty Susan, I promise to wear my pretty pyjamas and be a good boy."
"That's close enough," she said as she stood me
up facing her. She picked up the pink floral pyjama jacket and held it open for
me. First my right and then my left arm was inserted into the pyjama sleeves
and the jacked lay draped around my shoulders. Aunty Susan smiled at me, making
eye contact as she slowly began buttoning up the pyjama jacket beginning from
the bottom.
The neckline of the pyjama jacket had, what I later found
out was called, a Peter Pan collar and aunty ensured the top button was
fastened securely to show off this feature.
"There now, how lovely you look," she said as
she ran her hand down the front of the thick winceyette material of the pyjama
jacket, the hem of which rested two inches below my pee-pee. Her hand continued
it's downward movement and she pressed the soft material against me causing me
to inadvertently gasp.
Still smiling she picked up the pyjama bottoms and urged
me to step into them, right leg, then the left. She pulled them up around my
thighs and nestled the elastic around my waist.
"Yes they suit you, pink winceyette pyjamas are just
the thing for a
naughty boy to wear for an early bedtime but to make sure you’ve learnt
to do as your told, your going to get a hairbrush over that naughty pyjama clad
bottom,”
naughty boy to wear for an early bedtime but to make sure you’ve learnt
to do as your told, your going to get a hairbrush over that naughty pyjama clad
bottom,”
She dragged me by the ear to her bedroom picking up
the brush off the dressing table, sitting down on the bed and pulling
me over her knee again and began slapping my winceyette clad bottom.
"I hope you’re learning a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry you naughty little boy!”
Finally the spanking was finished and Aunty took me back to my bedroom , pulled back the bed-clothes and ordered me into bed, tucking me tightly in and pulling the bedclothes neck, she drew the curtains on a fine summer day at 3.30pm.
the brush off the dressing table, sitting down on the bed and pulling
me over her knee again and began slapping my winceyette clad bottom.
"I hope you’re learning a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry you naughty little boy!”
Finally the spanking was finished and Aunty took me back to my bedroom , pulled back the bed-clothes and ordered me into bed, tucking me tightly in and pulling the bedclothes neck, she drew the curtains on a fine summer day at 3.30pm.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Pyjama Time from Pyjama Punishment Monthly
Dear Pyjama Punishment Monthly
I would like to express my admiration for your magazine; it certainly shows what can be achieved when determined women put their mind to it. One thing puzzles me however: where do people acquire these magnificent dresses and baby outfits, which they seem to own in abundance? I have developed a much less elaborate, and cheaper way of disciplining my young lodger, whilst still reducing him to a babyish state that humiliates him into total obedience.
When Timothy first came to stay with me he was untidy, rude and undisciplined. I warned him several times of the consequences if he did not mend his ways, but he continued to misbehave. Eventually my patience snapped when he refused to do his college work in order to watch football on television. I switched off the set, hauled him over my lap and soundly spanked his bottom. Timothy was a small, immature boy, and physically he was no match for me. He begged me to stop spanking him, but I was determined to end his slovenly behaviour.
I stripped off his clothes, explaining that naughty boys aren’t allowed to dress and undress themselves. Then I dressed him in a pair of delightfully childish pyjamas, yellow winceyette, with a nursery print motif, which I had sewn for myself to wear at a fancy dress party. How Timothy cried as I buttoned up the jacket, and tucked it into the waistband of the trousers! They were too large for him, but I told him he would have to grow into them like other little boys.
The change in Timmytums, (his baby name), was almost immediate, wearing his babyish pyjamas he tidies his room, helps clear up after supper, and is generally a much better behaved little boy, concentrating more on his studies than football.
I get Timmytums ready for bed at 4.00 every evening without fail. Luckily, pyjamas are a simple pattern to sew, and I have made him quite a selection of pyjamas, all in winceyette and extremely infantile in appearance. Friends come around for whist on Saturdays and I make sure Timmytums is ready for beddy-byes dressed in his pyjamas before they arrive at 3pm. They love to watch as I make him serve us tea wearing his babyish pyjamas. He gets lots of hugs and cuddles but sometimes forgets his manners and he has to go over my knee for a spanking. I then pop a babies dummy into his mouth to soothe him and have one of my friends, usually Miss Fanshawe, nurse him on her lap while he quietly sucks his dummy.
At 5 o'clock he must give everyone a goodnight kiss and I take him to bed. I tuck him in under his Thomas the Tank Engine duvet, and tell him what a good little boy he is.
I would recommend the use of babyish pyjamas to anyone who wishes to discipline males cheaply and effectively, as long as they follow these general guidelines.
* Always ensure baby's jim-jams are suitably childish or feminine, and slightly too large. Sometimes I put Timmytums into a pink floral pair of pyjamas if he is especially naughty.
* Spankings should be rare, and performed in front of guests for maximum humiliation. A few slaps on a pyjama-clad bottom will suffice.
* Choose a time for the putting on of pyjamas and stay true to it, and the same rule for bedtime. I once wiped the smile from Timmytums face by pulling a pair of Peter Rabbit winceyette pyjamas from my bag for him to wear when I lingered too long at a neighbour's house.
* Finally, always make sure chores and duties around the house are completed by him whilst wearing pyjamas, to emphasise your superior female position.
Regards,
Miss Helen Good.
My congratulations on your success with Timmytums; your letter is one of the most delightful and instructive that I have ever read about the successful application of petticoating techniques. Might I suggest a pretty be-flounced pinafore for Timmy whilst he is doing his housework? I am sure that you have the skills to make one.
I have often pointed out that petticoat discipline need not be expensive, and I think that your technique is brilliant. Mothers and wives should follow your advice to the letter: make the material soft and cuddly (winceyette is excellent), the colours and patterns feminine and childish, and the pyjamas too large, which definitely adds a babyish touch.
Housework should be done in pyjamas, perhaps protected by a pinafore, and perhaps your little man could wear a pair of bunny rabbit slippers too, although they would have to be especially made.
Susan
Monday, 24 September 2012
Nanny Spankwell insists on Pink Pyjamas being worn at all times.
Pink pyjamas, a pink apron, pink rubber gloves and a pink shower cap. A wonderful outfit to wear in the presence of Nanny Spankwell as she prepares to spank this sissy then put him to bed good and early.
Sunday, 23 September 2012
Aunty punishes naughty boys who are impertinent when being bought new pyjamas.
On the naughty chair.
Being put to bed early.
Aunty had insisted I accompany her shopping on Saturday morning and reluctantly I had went with her as aunty had promised me a milkshake in the cafe if I behaved myself. I was already laden with auntys purchases when I was steered down the narrow lane that led to Miss Fairchilds just off the High Street. I began to protest but Aunty was quick to silence me with one of her stares.
The bell on the door gave its familar tinkle as we entered and Miss Fairchild greeted Aunty as a regular customer. "What can I do for you and your delightful nephew this morning?" She asked," patting me condescendingly on the cheek. a new pair of pyjamas for your nephew perhaps?"
Aunty nodded her agreement and I was told to stand quietly whilst an assortment of pyjamas were scattered on the glass counter. Miss Fairchild held some pyjama bottoms up against my waist that were decorated with characters from the nursery rhymes of my youth. "How about these?" she enquired of Aunty.
"Tempting indeed Miss Fairchild, I admit," aunty said and my stomach lurched at the thought of wearing those infantile pyjamas, so it was with some relief that aunty told Miss Fairchild that todayshe was looking for a pair of big boys pyjama for me to wear.
Miss Fairchild smiled, "of course, I have a large selection for you to choose from," she replied, looking directly at me. After perusing for a while aunty eventually decided on a pair of, "big boys", blue striped winceyette pyjamas.
"An excellent choice," chirped Miss Hargreaves as she carefully re-folded the pyjamas and placed then into a paper carrier bag that sported an advert for her shop "Miss Fairchild will supply all your requirements when looking for Little boys clothes for the bigger boy".
Those will keep you nice and cosy, won't they?" She said as she handed me the carrier bag.
Sulkily I replied, "I'm not bothered. I won't want to wear them anyway." Aunty gave me one of her looks again and I knew I had made a mistake.
"Oh is that so, well let me tell you that we are going straight home this instant, no milkshake for you my lad, I will personally put you into those new pyjamas then you will spend an hour on the naughty seat before putting you over my lap for a smacked bottom. You will learn that it is not you do not decide what you will and won't wear and don't forget it."
Horrified at her words, I attempted to protest that I was far too old to be punished in that manner but aunty was standing no nonsense from me, grabbing my hand she marched me toward the shop door.
Miss Fairchild waved at me as I was hurried out of her shop. "Good-bye then, enjoy wearing your new pyjamas, I hope you don't cry like a naught little boy during your spanking, although I hear you usually do. "
Sunday, 16 September 2012
More victims of maternal spankings.
Waiting for "mummy" to administer a maternal spanking before being dispatched straight to bed.
The second picture shows a well spanked bottom while the victim is wearing floral pyjamas. I hope that this spanking again has been a case of over mummy's knee before bedtime. Maternal hand or slipper spankings are my favourites. Lucky chaps the pair of them!
Punished in a nightie. This was written a few years ago by an author going under the name of Blondie. The author explored the wearing of a particular clothing item as a punishment. Of course this nightie story caught my eye.
Sister Mary’s Propensity
It started out as a normal school day in Sister Mary’s seventh grade classroom. The first hour was devoted to English, and the nun was droning on about diagramming sentences. Boredom was already setting in for the majority of the students, as they were entrenched in what looked like just another mundane Wednesday with Sister Mary. But thanks to one of their fellow students, coupled with their teacher’s strong propensity towards enforced humiliation, this day would be anything but mundane.
The thirty-four year old Sister Mary had been teaching grammar school for over eleven years. For the last year or two her job was starting to feel a little stale. The monotony of it all was setting in for her, and she longed for something to spice up her life. She knew she wasn’t going to find that “spice” in the convent, so she often looked to her students for her diversions. As alluded to, she took considerable pleasure in embarrassing, if not downright humiliating her students. She had recently started using her position of power for that purpose, but up until now, not quite to the extreme that she desired. There was the time earlier in the year that she punished one of her students by making him stand in front of the room and sing in front of the whole class. She remembered the pleasure she felt watching him blush profusely while singing his song.
Then there was the time she wrapped a woman’s scarf around another boy’s head. Again, she took extreme pleasure as his face grew redder by the second while she slowly tied the scarf under his chin and purposefully adjusted it until she was satisfied. She had conjectured that imposing female clothing on a young man might be one of the more powerful forms of enforced humiliation, and the boy’s extraordinarily embarrassed reaction to the scarf certainly confirmed that suspicion.
It had been over a month since she had utilized the scarf punishment, and since then she had been waiting for the opportunity to humiliate one of her students in a similar manner. Maybe today would be the day, she thought to herself earlier that morning. So when she spotted Tommy turning around and whispering something to the boy behind him, she decided to pounce on the moment. Little did Tommy know what the consequences would be of the seemingly minor transgression. As it would turn out, he picked the wrong day to make a false step.
It started out as a normal school day in Sister Mary’s seventh grade classroom. The first hour was devoted to English, and the nun was droning on about diagramming sentences. Boredom was already setting in for the majority of the students, as they were entrenched in what looked like just another mundane Wednesday with Sister Mary. But thanks to one of their fellow students, coupled with their teacher’s strong propensity towards enforced humiliation, this day would be anything but mundane.
The thirty-four year old Sister Mary had been teaching grammar school for over eleven years. For the last year or two her job was starting to feel a little stale. The monotony of it all was setting in for her, and she longed for something to spice up her life. She knew she wasn’t going to find that “spice” in the convent, so she often looked to her students for her diversions. As alluded to, she took considerable pleasure in embarrassing, if not downright humiliating her students. She had recently started using her position of power for that purpose, but up until now, not quite to the extreme that she desired. There was the time earlier in the year that she punished one of her students by making him stand in front of the room and sing in front of the whole class. She remembered the pleasure she felt watching him blush profusely while singing his song.
Then there was the time she wrapped a woman’s scarf around another boy’s head. Again, she took extreme pleasure as his face grew redder by the second while she slowly tied the scarf under his chin and purposefully adjusted it until she was satisfied. She had conjectured that imposing female clothing on a young man might be one of the more powerful forms of enforced humiliation, and the boy’s extraordinarily embarrassed reaction to the scarf certainly confirmed that suspicion.
It had been over a month since she had utilized the scarf punishment, and since then she had been waiting for the opportunity to humiliate one of her students in a similar manner. Maybe today would be the day, she thought to herself earlier that morning. So when she spotted Tommy turning around and whispering something to the boy behind him, she decided to pounce on the moment. Little did Tommy know what the consequences would be of the seemingly minor transgression. As it would turn out, he picked the wrong day to make a false step.
“Tommy, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” inquired Sister Mary.
Tommy blushed slightly at the admonition. “No, Sister Mary. Sorry, Sister Mary,” answered Tommy.
A slight smile formed on the corner of her lip. This was the opportunity she had hoped for. “Well, ‘sorry’ isn’t going to be good enough, Tommy. Stand up, please.” Tommy, who was seated in the very front of the second row of students, apprehensively complied. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to interrupt our lessons because of you, is it Tommy?”
Tommy shifted his weight uncomfortably. “No, Sister.”
In fact, it was quite true. Tommy, though generally a good kid, did have a habit of becoming restless when the subject matter didn’t interest him. Already during this school year Sister Mary had punished Tommy on three different occasions. The first time he had to write one hundred times, “I will raise my hand before speaking in Sister Mary’s classroom.” The second time he had to stand in the corner for an hour, which he found mildly embarrassing. The third time came on the day of his thirteenth birthday. On this occasion he had to wear a sign on his chest. Sister Mary made it on the spot, writing in bold and capital letters, “I HAVE BEEN A NAUGHTY LITTLE BOY.” The teasing he received from his fellow students was relentless, especially during the recess and lunch periods. Tommy, embarrassed to no end, seemed to have a constant blush going throughout that day. That was more than a month before, and he had been very careful not to give his teacher an excuse to embarrass him again, especially in light of the fact that Sister Mary’s punishments seemed to be escalating in their level of humiliation. When she tied a feminine scarf around the head one of his fellow students Tommy had cringed, and was ever so relieved it wasn’t happening to him. But now he watched his teacher reach into her drawer and pull out the very same scarf. He felt himself literally tremble with fear as Sister Mary approached.
[Oh, there goes Tommy again, talking while I’m trying to teach. I think I’ll have a little fun with him…yes, he’ll be a perfect little victim…I’ll bet I can make him blush …ah, he’s already getting a little nervous while I’m reprimanding him…I think I’ll use the scarf…I do love the way they blush when I do this…get it out of the drawer here…oh, look at him, he’s already turning red…just wait until I wrap it around his pretty little head .]
{Uh-oh, she caught me talking…and she’s got a funny smile on her face…oh, no, she’s opening the drawer…she’s got the scarf!…oh, please, no, I’ll just die!}
It was at that moment that another student chose to become involved. The student was Tommy’s sister Sally. Tommy had pulled many a practical joke on his slightly older sister, and she had not been amused by any of them. Her intrusion would go a long way towards leading to Tommy’s fateful punishment. She raised her hand, and Sister Mary stopped short of Tommy, somewhat annoyed at the interruption. “Yes, Sally?”
“Sister Mary, I think you should know that Tommy has done something much more serious than just talk out of turn in class. You may well want to consider a harsher punishment when you hear what I have to say.” Sister Mary raised her eyebrows. She was now suddenly quite interested. In fact, she secretly was hoping to hear of serious misconduct on Tommy’s part, one that might warrant a severe, even more humiliating punishment.
Meanwhile, Tommy was becoming panicky, as he knew what his sister was about to divulge. The day before, during the morning recess, Tommy was walking by the drinking fountain with one of his friends. Laura, a fellow seventh-grader, was leaning over the drinking fountain taking a sip of water. Tommy, in an attempt to impress his friend, lifted Laura’s skirt, resting it on her back. The two laughing boys scurried around the corner before the startled and embarrassed girl could see who the culprit was. Tommy had thought no one had seen him, but that night his sister said to him, “I know something that will get you in deep trouble.” Tommy dismissed it at the time, but now it appeared his actions were coming back to haunt him.
“I’m listening, Sally,” answered Sister Mary, somewhat anxiously.
“Well, you’ll be interested to know that yesterday Tommy lifted Laura’s skirt up and exposed her panties while she was leaning over the drinking fountain.”
Tommy clenched his eyes shut in anguish. Sister Mary outwardly appeared riled, but inwardly she was thrilled with the possibilities that were presented by the revelation. She looked at Tommy accusingly. “Is this true, Tommy?” she asked with feigned irritation.
“No, it wasn’t me,” Tommy lied, desperate to recover from his increasingly dire situation.
Sister Mary turned to Tommy’s victim, who was sitting on his immediate right. “Laura, did Tommy lift up your skirt yesterday? It’s okay, sweetheart, you can tell me.”
“I…I…somebody did it, but I didn’t see who,” answered the young, blushing girl.
It was at this moment that another student chose to contribute to the discussion, an overture that ultimately would seal Tommy’s miserable fate. The student was Cindy, Sally’s best friend. Cindy was a pretty little blond girl who sat immediately to Tommy’s left. Tommy had always had a crush on her, but she treated him more like Sally’s little brother than as a peer. She had also been involved as a victim in a couple of Tommy’s practical jokes. The two girls had talked about getting back at him on numerous occasions, but so far the opportunity hadn’t presented itself. Cindy, sensing that her immediate involvement would solidify Tommy’s guilt in the eyes of Sister Mary, raised her hand.
“Cindy, do you have some insight into these distasteful proceedings?” asked Sister Mary.
“Yes I do, Sister Mary. I saw the dirty deed, too. Lifted poor Laura’s skirt straight up her back; her panties were out there for all to see. It was definitely Tommy.” She was lying, since at the time of the violation of Laura, Cindy was engaged in a game of volleyball around the corner from the drinking fountain. But Cindy’s fib notwithstanding, Tommy was now in serious trouble. Sister Mary wore a look of agitation.
“Thank you, Cindy; you have been very helpful.” She turned to the troubled youth, who was now overwhelmed with dread. “As for you, young man…” She let the phrase dangle there momentarily as she contemplated how she would deal with what for her was a delicious situation. She held the scarf up. “I think, given the gravity of your offence, that we need to come up with a punishment that is a little more creative…something a little more embarrassing than this.” Tommy’s trepidation increased, while many of the students sat up in their seats, keenly interested in the scene playing out before them. “Yes, I do believe we can find something much more interesting for you to wear.”
[Yes! Sally and Cindy’s revelation really opens the door for me…bless their devious little minds …so the little pervert is lifting up skirts, is he, checking out the girl’s panties…if he’s so interested in girls’ clothes then I’ve got just the thing for him…heh- eh…I’ve always wanted to pull out the nightie…forget this scarf…we’re about to escalate the humiliation…oh, this is going to be fun!]
{Oh, please, I’ll never talk in class again…please don’t put the scarf on me…what does Sally want…oh no, Laura’s skirt…she’s telling her!…Oh, God, Cindy’s backing her up…I’m in for it now…what does she mean, something more embarrassing for me to wear?…worse than the scarf?…oh, God!…what is she doing?!}
The Nightgown
Sister Mary smiled to herself. She had already decided on a course of action. Two months before, she had put a nightgown in her desk drawer. It was the nightgown that she had worn when she was a young girl. She often fantasized about forcing one of her boy students to put it on as punishment, but she never had carried out the fantasy. She was concerned that there might be some backlash from the one of the students’ parents if word got out about what some may consider an act of depravity. But at this particular moment the need to satisfy her prurient desires far outweighed her concern about any possible repercussions.
“Yes, I’ve got just the thing for you, Tommy.” She stuffed the scarf in the pocket of her habit and walked purposefully to her desk and opened the bottom drawer. When she stood up, to the fascination of the students and to Tommy’s utter distress she was holding a long-sleeved, winceyette nightdress, femininely decorated with pink flowers. The sleeves were elasticated at the cuffs to form a ruffle. She held it up and examined both sides. Seeming quite satisfied, she turned her attention to the cowering boy standing next to his desk. “Do you know what ‘shame clothing’ is, Tommy?” asked Sister Mary.
Tommy frantically tried to extricate himself from this most disconcerting predicament. “I-I’m really sorry, Sister Mary; I promise…I promise I’ll never misbehave again. Please, I promise.” His quivering voice betrayed his apprehension.
Sister Mary wasn’t about to back down. “Answer my question, Tommy. What do you think ‘shame clothing’ refers to?”
“I g-guess it would be…clothing that…clothing that…that would…shame somebody.” The nervous student fidgeted noticeably.
“You are quite right, Tommy. And I’m sure when you’re on display at the front of the class wearing this nightgown for everyone to see you will feel an extreme sense of shame. I think you’ll find this a very effective punishment,” she said as she strolled towards the wide-eyed and horrified Tommy. “I expect that you’ll be blushing like a little schoolgirl.” She stopped in front of Tommy and briefly looked down at the nightgown. “And you’ll look like one, too,” the grinning nun said with a laugh. While his classmates joined their teacher in laughter, Sister Mary brushed the nightie against his cheek, "can you feel how soft the material is Tommy?" she said as she then held up the nightie by the shoulders for the very red-faced student. “Here you are, Tommy. I’d like you to go to the cloakroom, strip off your clothes and change into this,” ordered Sister Mary.
Tommy was frozen in his tracks. His arms remained at his sides as he was too stupefied to move. Sister Mary used that moment to assert her power and establish her dominance. She slapped the stunned boy across the face. The noise of the slap reverberated throughout the classroom, and the sting elicited a well of tears in Tommy’s eyes.
Tommy grudgingly reached out
and took the nightgown from her hands. Sister Mary continued with her
instructions. “Now, I’d like you to go back into the cloakroom and take off all
of your clothes, including your underwear. When you are naked, you’re to slip
on your pretty new nightgown, then come out and show off your new look for us.”
Sister Mary looked Tommy up and down and used her imagination to envision the
unfortunate lad naked, then in the female attire. She looked at Tommy’s
blushing face and was unable to suppress a smirk. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll make
quite the pretty little model, don’t you think so? ” She paused momentarily
while Tommy fixed his stare to the ground, wallowing in his wretchedness. “Now,
if you behave yourself then I’ll let you have your school uniform back in time
for the morning recess. Move along now; you’ve wasted enough of our valuable
time already. I’m sure your classmates are very anxious to see you in your new
finery.”
[My, the look on his face
when I pulled out the nightgown…like a frightened kitten …oh, he won’t take
it…I’ll show him…I hate to slap him, but he needs to know who’s in control
here…there, I think he gets it now…I’ve got him where I want him…he’ll cater to
any humiliation I choose to impose on him …I can’t wait to see him in my old
nightie…he has feminine features, he’ll look just lovely …and I’m sure he’ll be
blushing so…they blush so much with the scarf…imagine what he’ll look like
walking out here in front of all his classmates, wearing a little girl’s floral
nightie…oh, this will be precious!]
{Oh my God, what is that?…it’s a nightgown!…a floral one!…I can’t wear that!…oh, this isn’t happening…she’s trying to hand it to me…no, I can’t take it…ow!…she slapped me!…man, that really hurt!…I have to take it…oh, God…I have to go put this on…how can I face my classmates?}
Tommy, his face now fire engine red, turned and walked towards the cloakroom with the nightgown. He walked briskly and averted all eye contact by staring straight down to the linoleum floor. He could hear the giggling and could sense everyone’s stares. When he reached the cloakroom he threw the nightgown on a table, purposely avoiding looking at it. He was trembling, and the feeling of dread for what he was about to do was overpowering. He started to unbutton his shirt, but he couldn’t bring himself to begin undressing himself. He decided to make a last-ditch effort to maintain a small semblance of dignity. He stepped out from the cloakroom and called out to his teacher. “Sister Mary, may I at least just put it on over my clothes?”
“You mean you don’t have your clothes off yet, Tommy?” Sister Mary was now genuinely irritated. “As I said, you’re to be completely naked underneath your nightgown. It’s all part of your shame punishment. You seem to be missing the point. You see, the whole class will know that you’re naked underneath your nightgown. We’ll all know that you are just one article of clothing from being completely nude. Can’t you just imagine how vulnerable that will make you feel, Tommy? Think about it. If you make one false move, if the mood strikes me, I can slip the nightgown right off and have you naked in a matter of seconds.” The nun paused to let it sink in. “So it is in your best interest young man, to do exactly as I say. I’ll give you two minutes, and if you haven’t stripped all your clothes off and slipped into your nightie, then I’ll come back there and undress you myself.”
Again Tommy heard the giggling from his classmates as he returned to the cloakroom. He shuddered as he visualized himself in the nightgown. And worse, he visualized Sister Mary pulling it right off at her whim, rendering him completely naked in front of everybody. He was resigned to his nightmarish fate as he unbuttoned and removed his shirt. He then grudgingly pulled off his vest. It was a strange feeling to be naked from the waist up with his teacher and classmates just on the other side of the partition. He reached down and pulled off his shoes and socks. He started to unbuckle his belt, but then wavered, and chose to take another path. He would put the nightgown on first. He shuddered as he lifted the feminine garment over his head and slipped it on. He saw his reflection in the full-length mirror and realized how humiliating it was going to be to have to model the nightgown for his classmates and teacher. He reached underneath and slowly started undoing his belt buckle.
“Tommy, you have one minute. Trust me, you don’t want me to have to come in there,” he heard Sister Mary warn. “If I do, I’ll drag you out here, put you over my knee and warm your bare behind in front of the whole class. Then you’ll really know the meaning of shame.”
The giggling became louder. Tommy needed no further encouragement. He hastily undid the belt and slipped off his pants. He looked in the mirror and saw an image of a red-faced boy wearing a girl’s nightgown. The hem had cascaded to the floor and nestled, worryingly comfortingly on top of his bare feet. The sight of himself caused him to shiver. He started to reach under the nightgown to remove his underpants but then stopped. His sense of shame was already at a high level; to be entirely naked underneath the nightgown was more than he thought he could endure. He did remember being told to remove all of his clothes, but surely, he thought, he could get away with leaving his underpants on. Besides, she would never know the difference thought Tommy. She certainly wouldn’t pull up the nightgown to check. Would she?
Tommy’s level of anxiety was already extremely high, but it intensified as he considered how Sally and Cindy would be revelling in his humiliation. Tommy had cringed when he heard Cindy’s distinctive giggle as he was walking back to the cloakroom with the nightgown. He knew the giggling would turn into outright laughter in a few short moments. He took in the mental image of walking out there, and he buried his face in his hands at the prospect.
{Oh, God…I can’t believe I have to put this on…I can’t do this…maybe I can at least put it on over my clothes…I’ll ask her…oh, God, I have to be completely naked underneath…I have two minutes or she’ll come back here and do it herself…I certainly can’t let her see me naked...no way!...I have to start stripping…oh, this is a nightmare…she’s so mean!…here goes my shirt…and my vest…brrr…I’ve got goose bumps…here go the shoes and socks…now the pants…no, I’ll put the nightgown on first in case she comes back here…I can’t let her see me in my underpants…oh, look at me in this nightgown…it smells…smells like perfume…eww…oh, how can I go out there like this?…it will be unbearable!…oh, I have one minute or she’ll spank me…on my bare behind!…how did I get in this mess?…oh, how I wish I never lifted Laura’s skirt…I didn’t think anybody would see…I have to take my pants off…and look how red my face is…and I’m not even out there yet…my face is so hot…why do I blush so much?…oh, this is terrible…do I have to take off my underpants?…she wants me totally bare underneath…here goes…no!…I can’t do it…she’ll never know…she wouldn’t go that far…oh, please, don’t let her go that far!…oh, this is just awful!…how can I go out there and have them all see me like this?…especially Sally and Cindy…I know they’re just loving this…oh, they’ll all be laughing at me…I’ll never get over this!…oh!}
“Okay, Tommy, time’s up,” announced the nun as another smile formed on her lips. “Please come out and show your classmates how pretty you look.”
{Oh my God, what is that?…it’s a nightgown!…a floral one!…I can’t wear that!…oh, this isn’t happening…she’s trying to hand it to me…no, I can’t take it…ow!…she slapped me!…man, that really hurt!…I have to take it…oh, God…I have to go put this on…how can I face my classmates?}
Tommy, his face now fire engine red, turned and walked towards the cloakroom with the nightgown. He walked briskly and averted all eye contact by staring straight down to the linoleum floor. He could hear the giggling and could sense everyone’s stares. When he reached the cloakroom he threw the nightgown on a table, purposely avoiding looking at it. He was trembling, and the feeling of dread for what he was about to do was overpowering. He started to unbutton his shirt, but he couldn’t bring himself to begin undressing himself. He decided to make a last-ditch effort to maintain a small semblance of dignity. He stepped out from the cloakroom and called out to his teacher. “Sister Mary, may I at least just put it on over my clothes?”
“You mean you don’t have your clothes off yet, Tommy?” Sister Mary was now genuinely irritated. “As I said, you’re to be completely naked underneath your nightgown. It’s all part of your shame punishment. You seem to be missing the point. You see, the whole class will know that you’re naked underneath your nightgown. We’ll all know that you are just one article of clothing from being completely nude. Can’t you just imagine how vulnerable that will make you feel, Tommy? Think about it. If you make one false move, if the mood strikes me, I can slip the nightgown right off and have you naked in a matter of seconds.” The nun paused to let it sink in. “So it is in your best interest young man, to do exactly as I say. I’ll give you two minutes, and if you haven’t stripped all your clothes off and slipped into your nightie, then I’ll come back there and undress you myself.”
Again Tommy heard the giggling from his classmates as he returned to the cloakroom. He shuddered as he visualized himself in the nightgown. And worse, he visualized Sister Mary pulling it right off at her whim, rendering him completely naked in front of everybody. He was resigned to his nightmarish fate as he unbuttoned and removed his shirt. He then grudgingly pulled off his vest. It was a strange feeling to be naked from the waist up with his teacher and classmates just on the other side of the partition. He reached down and pulled off his shoes and socks. He started to unbuckle his belt, but then wavered, and chose to take another path. He would put the nightgown on first. He shuddered as he lifted the feminine garment over his head and slipped it on. He saw his reflection in the full-length mirror and realized how humiliating it was going to be to have to model the nightgown for his classmates and teacher. He reached underneath and slowly started undoing his belt buckle.
“Tommy, you have one minute. Trust me, you don’t want me to have to come in there,” he heard Sister Mary warn. “If I do, I’ll drag you out here, put you over my knee and warm your bare behind in front of the whole class. Then you’ll really know the meaning of shame.”
The giggling became louder. Tommy needed no further encouragement. He hastily undid the belt and slipped off his pants. He looked in the mirror and saw an image of a red-faced boy wearing a girl’s nightgown. The hem had cascaded to the floor and nestled, worryingly comfortingly on top of his bare feet. The sight of himself caused him to shiver. He started to reach under the nightgown to remove his underpants but then stopped. His sense of shame was already at a high level; to be entirely naked underneath the nightgown was more than he thought he could endure. He did remember being told to remove all of his clothes, but surely, he thought, he could get away with leaving his underpants on. Besides, she would never know the difference thought Tommy. She certainly wouldn’t pull up the nightgown to check. Would she?
Tommy’s level of anxiety was already extremely high, but it intensified as he considered how Sally and Cindy would be revelling in his humiliation. Tommy had cringed when he heard Cindy’s distinctive giggle as he was walking back to the cloakroom with the nightgown. He knew the giggling would turn into outright laughter in a few short moments. He took in the mental image of walking out there, and he buried his face in his hands at the prospect.
{Oh, God…I can’t believe I have to put this on…I can’t do this…maybe I can at least put it on over my clothes…I’ll ask her…oh, God, I have to be completely naked underneath…I have two minutes or she’ll come back here and do it herself…I certainly can’t let her see me naked...no way!...I have to start stripping…oh, this is a nightmare…she’s so mean!…here goes my shirt…and my vest…brrr…I’ve got goose bumps…here go the shoes and socks…now the pants…no, I’ll put the nightgown on first in case she comes back here…I can’t let her see me in my underpants…oh, look at me in this nightgown…it smells…smells like perfume…eww…oh, how can I go out there like this?…it will be unbearable!…oh, I have one minute or she’ll spank me…on my bare behind!…how did I get in this mess?…oh, how I wish I never lifted Laura’s skirt…I didn’t think anybody would see…I have to take my pants off…and look how red my face is…and I’m not even out there yet…my face is so hot…why do I blush so much?…oh, this is terrible…do I have to take off my underpants?…she wants me totally bare underneath…here goes…no!…I can’t do it…she’ll never know…she wouldn’t go that far…oh, please, don’t let her go that far!…oh, this is just awful!…how can I go out there and have them all see me like this?…especially Sally and Cindy…I know they’re just loving this…oh, they’ll all be laughing at me…I’ll never get over this!…oh!}
“Okay, Tommy, time’s up,” announced the nun as another smile formed on her lips. “Please come out and show your classmates how pretty you look.”
Taunted in the Nightgown
Back in the cloakroom, Tommy could hear the buzzing emanating from the students. With considerable trepidation he poked his red face out and saw the faces of twenty-four students, fourteen girls, ten boys and one teacher staring back at him with looks of anticipation. He quickly retreated and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He braced himself and quickly emerged, looking straight down and made for his desk. The full length nightie however made walking difficult as it swished against his legs and he automatically grasped the winceyette material and lifted the hem so he could walk more easily. Laughter filled the room as the students took in the extraordinary scene. Tommy just wanted to crawl into the seat of his desk to secure at least a minimal amount of relief. When he arrived at his desk in the front of the second row he quickly slid into his seat. He self-consciously put his knees together and once again experienced the pleasant sensation of the soft material resting on top of his feet. He couldn’t help but to turn and steal a glance at his “audience,” and he wasn’t surprised to find his gaze answered by a host of grinning faces. He blushed brightly as he caught Cindy’s eye. She was obviously enjoying the moment. He glanced up at Sister Mary and noticed that she was smiling broadly to herself—she seemed to almost be glowing in her state of pleasure.
Indeed, Sister Mary was in her glory. She always knew she had a dominant side, with a strong bend towards humiliation, especially involving the male gender. And here she had a thirteen-year-old boy completely under her control. Not only that, it was Tommy, who, given her choice, she would have picked over any other of her students to play victim to her deviant desires. She was getting an extra thrill out of humiliating the innocent looking, slender, blond-haired, baby-faced and blue-eyed boy. She felt a stimulation in her loins that she hadn’t felt in some time, and there was no telling to what extreme she would pursue her sordid fantasy. She knew full well that she could get herself into trouble, even to the point of being dismissed from the convent. But at this point her prurient desires were overwhelming, and superseded any concerns of the consequences of her actions. At the moment she sensed instant gratification, and she certainly was going to make the most of her opportunity.
“Tommy, could you please come up here so we can have a look at you in your shame clothing?” invited Sister Mary. The abashed Tommy hung his head as he trudged to the front of the classroom. He stood facing his nemesis. Sister Mary took his hands in hers and revelled in his blushing, downcast face. “You look lovely in your new nightie, Tommy,” teased his teacher. “ But you have forgotten to button up your nightie, we don't want you to catch a chill do we children?" She addressed her remark to the class who chorused back, "no Miss." Tommy cringed as Sister Mary bent toward him and fastened the three neck buttons and deliberately and slowly smoothed down the Peter pan collar. She then tugged down the sleeves of the nightie so that the frilled cuffs rested neatly on Tommy's wrists.
Back in the cloakroom, Tommy could hear the buzzing emanating from the students. With considerable trepidation he poked his red face out and saw the faces of twenty-four students, fourteen girls, ten boys and one teacher staring back at him with looks of anticipation. He quickly retreated and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He braced himself and quickly emerged, looking straight down and made for his desk. The full length nightie however made walking difficult as it swished against his legs and he automatically grasped the winceyette material and lifted the hem so he could walk more easily. Laughter filled the room as the students took in the extraordinary scene. Tommy just wanted to crawl into the seat of his desk to secure at least a minimal amount of relief. When he arrived at his desk in the front of the second row he quickly slid into his seat. He self-consciously put his knees together and once again experienced the pleasant sensation of the soft material resting on top of his feet. He couldn’t help but to turn and steal a glance at his “audience,” and he wasn’t surprised to find his gaze answered by a host of grinning faces. He blushed brightly as he caught Cindy’s eye. She was obviously enjoying the moment. He glanced up at Sister Mary and noticed that she was smiling broadly to herself—she seemed to almost be glowing in her state of pleasure.
Indeed, Sister Mary was in her glory. She always knew she had a dominant side, with a strong bend towards humiliation, especially involving the male gender. And here she had a thirteen-year-old boy completely under her control. Not only that, it was Tommy, who, given her choice, she would have picked over any other of her students to play victim to her deviant desires. She was getting an extra thrill out of humiliating the innocent looking, slender, blond-haired, baby-faced and blue-eyed boy. She felt a stimulation in her loins that she hadn’t felt in some time, and there was no telling to what extreme she would pursue her sordid fantasy. She knew full well that she could get herself into trouble, even to the point of being dismissed from the convent. But at this point her prurient desires were overwhelming, and superseded any concerns of the consequences of her actions. At the moment she sensed instant gratification, and she certainly was going to make the most of her opportunity.
“Tommy, could you please come up here so we can have a look at you in your shame clothing?” invited Sister Mary. The abashed Tommy hung his head as he trudged to the front of the classroom. He stood facing his nemesis. Sister Mary took his hands in hers and revelled in his blushing, downcast face. “You look lovely in your new nightie, Tommy,” teased his teacher. “ But you have forgotten to button up your nightie, we don't want you to catch a chill do we children?" She addressed her remark to the class who chorused back, "no Miss." Tommy cringed as Sister Mary bent toward him and fastened the three neck buttons and deliberately and slowly smoothed down the Peter pan collar. She then tugged down the sleeves of the nightie so that the frilled cuffs rested neatly on Tommy's wrists.
"She continued,
"you smell so nice, too. I love your perfume.” She paused to relish in her
victim’s blushing face before continuing. “You know, I used to wear this very
nightgown when I was a little girl, but I don’t think I looked nearly as pretty
in it as you do.” Tommy heard the laughter behind him, and turned yet redder
under the taunting from the nun. “And you’re blushing so much, Tommy, that your
face matches the bright floral flowers on your gown. I think we should share
this with your classmates, don’t you?”
She took hold of his left
hand and turned him around to face his peers. She let go and walked full circle
around Tommy, eyeing him up and down and smiling broadly. She left him standing
there feeling his shame, as his classmates soaked up the unusual spectacle.
Tommy stood and absorbed the humiliation, looking straight down and fighting
off tears. “You may return to your seat now, Tommy, and, if you behave
yourself, I’ll take your nightie back at 9:45.”
Tommy returned to his seat and glanced at the clock. It was 9:15, so he would only have to endure the agonizing experience for another half an hour. There was no way he would do anything to jeopardize his already-dismal fate.
Missing Underpants
Sister Mary had already decided that Tommy was not going to get his clothes back, though, and she found the perfect justification to deny him. When she had taken hold of his hand she had inadvertently brushed her fingers against his sides and had felt the outline of his underpants. She decided right then and there to take full advantage of Tommy’s disobedience. She let a couple of minutes go by before taking her next step. She called to one of the students in the back of the room. Not coincidentally, she picked his sister. “Sally, would you do me a favour and go back to the cloakroom and retrieve all of Tommy’s clothes for me?” Tommy stiffened in his seat. He wasn’t sure what his teacher was up to, but he didn’t have a positive feeling about the direction that things were heading. Sally emerged from the cloakroom with Tommy’s clothes and sauntered up to the front of the room. “You can lay them on my desk, Sally.” Sally complied and looked over at her brother. She grinned as she turned and returned to her seat. “Thank you, Sally,” said Sister Mary.
Sister Mary began sifting through Tommy’s clothes. She picked them up one by one and set them aside, forming a new pile. For affect, she had a confused look on her face and again picked each article of clothing up one by one. Tommy’s heart raced as he realized what his teacher was up to. “Sally,” asked Sister Mary, “Are you sure you brought all of Tommy’s clothes up here? We seem to be missing his underpants.”
“I’m sure,” responded Sally dutifully, “I didn’t see Tommy’s underpants back there.” After a pause, she volunteered, “Maybe he’s still wearing them, Sister Mary.” Sister Mary glared at Tommy, who had a panicked look on his face. Then he had an idea.
“I know where they are, Sister Mary, I’ll go get them.” Tommy rose from his desk as if to run back to the cloakroom.
“You stay right where you are, young man!” she bellowed. The chagrined Tommy stopped in his tracks and sat back down. “Sally will get them for you if you just tell her where they are.” She was enjoying herself as she watched Tommy fidget anxiously. “Well, what did you do with them, Tommy, did you hide them? You’d better not be lying to me, young man. You’re already in enough trouble as it is. Now tell us where your underpants are.”
Tommy’s situation was hopeless. He had to confess before digging an even deeper hole for himself. Looking downward, he said softly, “I’m still wearing them.”
“I beg your pardon?” Sister Mary feigned incredulity. “Did I or did I not tell you that you were to be naked under your nightgown?” Tommy was silent. “Answer me, young man.”
“I didn’t know you meant my underpants, too, Sister. I’m sorry. I’ll take them off now if that’s what you want.” Tommy was desperately trying to find a way out of his predicament.
“You know very well what naked means young, you disobedient little boy. Well it’s too late now. Come up here right now.”
Underpants Exposure
Tommy, head bowed, walked up to the centre of the room where he again faced his teacher.
“What am I going to do with you, Tommy? First you disobey me and then you lie to me.”
Tommy returned to his seat and glanced at the clock. It was 9:15, so he would only have to endure the agonizing experience for another half an hour. There was no way he would do anything to jeopardize his already-dismal fate.
Missing Underpants
Sister Mary had already decided that Tommy was not going to get his clothes back, though, and she found the perfect justification to deny him. When she had taken hold of his hand she had inadvertently brushed her fingers against his sides and had felt the outline of his underpants. She decided right then and there to take full advantage of Tommy’s disobedience. She let a couple of minutes go by before taking her next step. She called to one of the students in the back of the room. Not coincidentally, she picked his sister. “Sally, would you do me a favour and go back to the cloakroom and retrieve all of Tommy’s clothes for me?” Tommy stiffened in his seat. He wasn’t sure what his teacher was up to, but he didn’t have a positive feeling about the direction that things were heading. Sally emerged from the cloakroom with Tommy’s clothes and sauntered up to the front of the room. “You can lay them on my desk, Sally.” Sally complied and looked over at her brother. She grinned as she turned and returned to her seat. “Thank you, Sally,” said Sister Mary.
Sister Mary began sifting through Tommy’s clothes. She picked them up one by one and set them aside, forming a new pile. For affect, she had a confused look on her face and again picked each article of clothing up one by one. Tommy’s heart raced as he realized what his teacher was up to. “Sally,” asked Sister Mary, “Are you sure you brought all of Tommy’s clothes up here? We seem to be missing his underpants.”
“I’m sure,” responded Sally dutifully, “I didn’t see Tommy’s underpants back there.” After a pause, she volunteered, “Maybe he’s still wearing them, Sister Mary.” Sister Mary glared at Tommy, who had a panicked look on his face. Then he had an idea.
“I know where they are, Sister Mary, I’ll go get them.” Tommy rose from his desk as if to run back to the cloakroom.
“You stay right where you are, young man!” she bellowed. The chagrined Tommy stopped in his tracks and sat back down. “Sally will get them for you if you just tell her where they are.” She was enjoying herself as she watched Tommy fidget anxiously. “Well, what did you do with them, Tommy, did you hide them? You’d better not be lying to me, young man. You’re already in enough trouble as it is. Now tell us where your underpants are.”
Tommy’s situation was hopeless. He had to confess before digging an even deeper hole for himself. Looking downward, he said softly, “I’m still wearing them.”
“I beg your pardon?” Sister Mary feigned incredulity. “Did I or did I not tell you that you were to be naked under your nightgown?” Tommy was silent. “Answer me, young man.”
“I didn’t know you meant my underpants, too, Sister. I’m sorry. I’ll take them off now if that’s what you want.” Tommy was desperately trying to find a way out of his predicament.
“You know very well what naked means young, you disobedient little boy. Well it’s too late now. Come up here right now.”
Underpants Exposure
Tommy, head bowed, walked up to the centre of the room where he again faced his teacher.
“What am I going to do with you, Tommy? First you disobey me and then you lie to me.”
Sister Mary reached down and
up underneath the hem of the nightgown, with each hand and grasped the
waistband of his underpants and yanked them down so they nestled around his
ankles.. Tommy’s jaw dropped, and he was too dumbstruck to do anything. “Step
to the left Tommy, she ordered. As he did so the underpants remained crumpled
on the floor, but not for long. Sister Mary picked them up and showed them to
the rest of the class. A collective gasp, followed by loud giggling emanated
from the students, as Tommy’s underpants were completely exposed. Sister Mary
then did something even she couldn't have dreamed off. She pulled the
underpants down over Tommy's head, covering his face.
With his eyes were covered,
Tommy couldn’t see Sister Mary grinning at the comical sight. He couldn’t see
her scrutinizing the small, only noticeable to her, protrusion in his nightie
and the little damp stain that accompanied it.
Her grin became even wider.
He couldn’t see her walk the full circle around him, inspecting him from every
angle. But he could certainly hear the giggling from his classmates. He felt
his face flushing as he stood there in his floral nightie with his underpants
over his face.
Sister Mary lifted up the underpants just enough to make eye contact with the red-faced, agonized Tommy. “Are you happy now, Tommy, with your decision to disobey me and keep your underpants on?” Tommy shook his head back and forth. “I thought not. But I can tell you, your classmates are happy with your decision, judging by the expression on their faces. They obviously find your exposure highly entertaining.
Sister Mary lifted up the underpants just enough to make eye contact with the red-faced, agonized Tommy. “Are you happy now, Tommy, with your decision to disobey me and keep your underpants on?” Tommy shook his head back and forth. “I thought not. But I can tell you, your classmates are happy with your decision, judging by the expression on their faces. They obviously find your exposure highly entertaining.
Tommy listened to the renewed
laughter and felt his face flush yet brighter. In one respect he was relieved
to be hiding his blushing face, but in another way the awkward feeling of being
on display without being able to see anything somehow added to his humiliation.
[Oh, here he comes…my, would you just look at him!…a sight for sore eyes …his face is even floraler than the nightie …how adorable…this is so much better than the scarf…I’ll have fun teasing the poor lad…let’s get him up here…yes, this is delightful…I’m glad I sprayed the nightie with perfume…he gets to experience his humiliation with all five of the senses…he’s ideal for this…baby-faced, blond, slender…delicate features…and look at him blushing so brightly…this is wonderful!…my, I’m getting a little hot and bothered…I might have to put him through his paces today…an opportunity of a lifetime…you’ve been waiting a long time for this, Mary…like I tell my students, carpe diem …let’s turn him around so his friends can see the nightie better and his blushing face…wait!…what’s this I feel?…the little rascal left his underpants on…thought he could pull one over on me…thank you, my little pet…that’s just the excuse I need…we’ll just have to step up the humiliation another notch …is it getting warmer in here?…no, it’s me …let’s take it slowly, Mary…have some fun with this…okay, I’ll send him back to his seat…I’ll get Sally to bring his clothes up here…yes, he’s fidgeting a bit already, wondering what I’m up to…I’ll toy with him for a bit…go through his clothes one by one…oh, he’s sweating now…it’s time, my frightened one, you’ve got no way out of this…time to ‘fess up…that’s it, now come up here and let’s have some fun with you…you can show off your precious undies to us…oh, I’m actually trembling…this is so exciting!…look at him, he’s trembling, too…but for a different reason …over his head they go…perfect…oh, what a treat this is …look at the tiny bulge in his nightie…poor little lad, I have a hunch he’s been deprived in the penis department …all the more embarrassing for him, I suspect …an therefore, more enjoyable for me …let’s take a little stroll around my little victim… slowly…enjoy the moment…I think I’ve died and gone to heaven…and this is just the beginning…there’s no turning back now, Mary…you’ll never get a chance like this again.]
{Oh, God…I’ve got to go out there…I’ll make a run for it…here I go…oh, listen to them laughing…oh, this is awful…here’s my seat…pull this nightgown down…oh, it barely goes past my knees…they’re all grinning and laughing…look at Cindy…I’ve never seen her laugh so hard…oh!…and look at Sister Mary, just standing up there and smiling at me…just do the English class, for God’s sake, would you?…oh, no, she wants me to come up there…here I go…she won’t stop teasing me…oh, no, she’s turning me around to face them…oh, my face is so hot!…Sally, she’s grinning so evilly…looks like the devil…I can always hear Cindy over everybody…Sister Mary is walking all the way around me, grinning…she’s really enjoying herself…I never knew she could be so mean…I’ve got to keep from crying…please, just let me sit down…oh, thank you…I get my clothes back at 9:45…just a half hour…oh, I can’t wait…just sit here quietly and it’ll be over…wait!…why is she sending Sally for my clothes?…oh, I don’t like this at all!…she’ll notice my underpants aren’t there!…oh, why didn’t I take them off?…I just couldn’t…she’s going through them…I think she notices already…how did she know?…oh, God, I’m in trouble…she’s going through them again…oh, Sally’s trying to get me in trouble…I hate her…what can I do?…I know, I’ll run back there and act like I’m finding them…yes!…oh, no, she won’t let me…I’m in for it now…Oh, God, she wants me to come up there again…what will she do to me?…oh!…she’s putting her hands up the nightgown!…no!…oh, she’s putting my underpants over my head… I can't see anything...they can see my underpants on my head and I'm wearing a floral nightie !…oh!…I can’t believe this!…listen to them!…how can I ever face them again?…oh, …this is awful!…this is so weird…I can’t see them, but I know what they can see…my underpants!…they’re laughing so hard…oh!}
[Oh, here he comes…my, would you just look at him!…a sight for sore eyes …his face is even floraler than the nightie …how adorable…this is so much better than the scarf…I’ll have fun teasing the poor lad…let’s get him up here…yes, this is delightful…I’m glad I sprayed the nightie with perfume…he gets to experience his humiliation with all five of the senses…he’s ideal for this…baby-faced, blond, slender…delicate features…and look at him blushing so brightly…this is wonderful!…my, I’m getting a little hot and bothered…I might have to put him through his paces today…an opportunity of a lifetime…you’ve been waiting a long time for this, Mary…like I tell my students, carpe diem …let’s turn him around so his friends can see the nightie better and his blushing face…wait!…what’s this I feel?…the little rascal left his underpants on…thought he could pull one over on me…thank you, my little pet…that’s just the excuse I need…we’ll just have to step up the humiliation another notch …is it getting warmer in here?…no, it’s me …let’s take it slowly, Mary…have some fun with this…okay, I’ll send him back to his seat…I’ll get Sally to bring his clothes up here…yes, he’s fidgeting a bit already, wondering what I’m up to…I’ll toy with him for a bit…go through his clothes one by one…oh, he’s sweating now…it’s time, my frightened one, you’ve got no way out of this…time to ‘fess up…that’s it, now come up here and let’s have some fun with you…you can show off your precious undies to us…oh, I’m actually trembling…this is so exciting!…look at him, he’s trembling, too…but for a different reason …over his head they go…perfect…oh, what a treat this is …look at the tiny bulge in his nightie…poor little lad, I have a hunch he’s been deprived in the penis department …all the more embarrassing for him, I suspect …an therefore, more enjoyable for me …let’s take a little stroll around my little victim… slowly…enjoy the moment…I think I’ve died and gone to heaven…and this is just the beginning…there’s no turning back now, Mary…you’ll never get a chance like this again.]
{Oh, God…I’ve got to go out there…I’ll make a run for it…here I go…oh, listen to them laughing…oh, this is awful…here’s my seat…pull this nightgown down…oh, it barely goes past my knees…they’re all grinning and laughing…look at Cindy…I’ve never seen her laugh so hard…oh!…and look at Sister Mary, just standing up there and smiling at me…just do the English class, for God’s sake, would you?…oh, no, she wants me to come up there…here I go…she won’t stop teasing me…oh, no, she’s turning me around to face them…oh, my face is so hot!…Sally, she’s grinning so evilly…looks like the devil…I can always hear Cindy over everybody…Sister Mary is walking all the way around me, grinning…she’s really enjoying herself…I never knew she could be so mean…I’ve got to keep from crying…please, just let me sit down…oh, thank you…I get my clothes back at 9:45…just a half hour…oh, I can’t wait…just sit here quietly and it’ll be over…wait!…why is she sending Sally for my clothes?…oh, I don’t like this at all!…she’ll notice my underpants aren’t there!…oh, why didn’t I take them off?…I just couldn’t…she’s going through them…I think she notices already…how did she know?…oh, God, I’m in trouble…she’s going through them again…oh, Sally’s trying to get me in trouble…I hate her…what can I do?…I know, I’ll run back there and act like I’m finding them…yes!…oh, no, she won’t let me…I’m in for it now…Oh, God, she wants me to come up there again…what will she do to me?…oh!…she’s putting her hands up the nightgown!…no!…oh, she’s putting my underpants over my head… I can't see anything...they can see my underpants on my head and I'm wearing a floral nightie !…oh!…I can’t believe this!…listen to them!…how can I ever face them again?…oh, …this is awful!…this is so weird…I can’t see them, but I know what they can see…my underpants!…they’re laughing so hard…oh!}
Monday, 10 September 2012
Pyjama punishment for this naughty boy.
I was sixteen, it was the summer holidays, and on a Tuesday afternoon at 3 pm aunty removed the plug from the bathtub. I had just been given a punishment bath by my aunty. This had entailed an intrusive interrogation with a soapy flannel of the most intimate parts of my body ending with a mouth soaping so intense that I gagged several times as aunty worked the flannel around my mouth. "Come along, you naughty little boy, I will teach you to tell lies to aunty." My crime had been to "forget" to tell aunty I had crept out of the house for five minutes to have a crafty cigarette when I was supposed to be busy polishing the cutlery. Unluckily for me, I had forgotten about Miss Masterton, the spinster who lived opposite. She had spied upon me as she often did, through her binoculars and telephoned aunty to inform her that there was a miscreant outside wearing pale blue little boy pyjamas who was smoking a cigarette. Of course, I was even more naive when I foolishly denied my crime after Aunty had confronted me. When Miss Masterton appeared in person to confirm my crime I had no choice but to confess and so found myself being stripped of my rocket ship pyjamas and unceremoniously deposited into a soapy bathtub.
Aunty then dried me roughly and marched me naked downstairs. To my horror, Miss Masterton was still there, she smirked as I attempted to cover myself. Aunty slapped my hands aside. "Not only did you lie to me about smoking but you lied about sneaking out of the house too. Well my lad, perhaps you won't be so keen to be seen in public wearing these." It was only then that I noticed that in Miss Masterton's lap was a pair of pink floral pyjamas. Grinning like a Cheshire cat she held up the pyjama jacket. With aunty behind me ensuring my compliance Miss Masterton guided my arms into the soft, brushed cotton, frilly pyjama jacket and I was turned to face her as she buttoned me into it. The pyjama jacket had a ruffle neck that was fastened with two buttons at the very top. "No please," it's too tight," I begged pathetically. Miss Masterton and Aunty ignored my protests and merely continued adjusting the sleeves of the pyjama jacket that had elasticised cuffs.
"Step." Miss Masterton commanded as I put first one leg then the other into the pyjama bottoms. Miss Masterton slid the pyjamas up over my thighs and positioned them precisely on my waist. Using her hand she smoothed the brushed cotton material against my groin. I moaned slightly and she felt my excitement at her touch. Miss Masterton laughed and placed two fingers under my chin, raising my head and forcing me to stare into her face.” Your nephew looks so sweet wearing his frilly pink floral pyjamas, I think I shall have to bring more pairs for him to wear." Her hand, masked from my aunt's view, continued to casually caress the brushed cotton of my pyjama bottoms in a manner that almost caused me to disgrace myself further. "Please do," replied aunty, who inadvertently rescued me with the promise of a spanking. "He will be wearing girls pyjamas for the foreseeable future so I will need plenty of pairs for him. Now, get over my lap for a smacked botty before I put you straight to bed." I tried to protest that it was only 3.30 but aunty only became angrier and, after informing me that 3.30 would become my regular holiday bedtime, asked Miss Masterton if she could think of an additional punishment. Miss Masterton paused for a moment before saying. "What if you were to bring him across to my house tomorrow at say 10 o'clock? He would be wearing his pretty girls pyjamas of course, we could get him to try on some more pairs and we could choose a pair for him to wear whilst he performed some chores for me. You needn't stay. I would bring him back in time for his bedtime of course." She smiled serenely as she spoke. "I may need to put him across my lap myself if his behaviour warrents, I trust that would be permissible? Like you, I do so believe in maternal spanking's to persuade naughty boys to do as they are told" Aunty enthusiastically agreed, adding that it was every females duty to regularly spank the males under their control, and thenI was put straight to bed wearing my frilly, pink floral pyjamas, dreading what the morning would bring.
Aunty then dried me roughly and marched me naked downstairs. To my horror, Miss Masterton was still there, she smirked as I attempted to cover myself. Aunty slapped my hands aside. "Not only did you lie to me about smoking but you lied about sneaking out of the house too. Well my lad, perhaps you won't be so keen to be seen in public wearing these." It was only then that I noticed that in Miss Masterton's lap was a pair of pink floral pyjamas. Grinning like a Cheshire cat she held up the pyjama jacket. With aunty behind me ensuring my compliance Miss Masterton guided my arms into the soft, brushed cotton, frilly pyjama jacket and I was turned to face her as she buttoned me into it. The pyjama jacket had a ruffle neck that was fastened with two buttons at the very top. "No please," it's too tight," I begged pathetically. Miss Masterton and Aunty ignored my protests and merely continued adjusting the sleeves of the pyjama jacket that had elasticised cuffs.
"Step." Miss Masterton commanded as I put first one leg then the other into the pyjama bottoms. Miss Masterton slid the pyjamas up over my thighs and positioned them precisely on my waist. Using her hand she smoothed the brushed cotton material against my groin. I moaned slightly and she felt my excitement at her touch. Miss Masterton laughed and placed two fingers under my chin, raising my head and forcing me to stare into her face.” Your nephew looks so sweet wearing his frilly pink floral pyjamas, I think I shall have to bring more pairs for him to wear." Her hand, masked from my aunt's view, continued to casually caress the brushed cotton of my pyjama bottoms in a manner that almost caused me to disgrace myself further. "Please do," replied aunty, who inadvertently rescued me with the promise of a spanking. "He will be wearing girls pyjamas for the foreseeable future so I will need plenty of pairs for him. Now, get over my lap for a smacked botty before I put you straight to bed." I tried to protest that it was only 3.30 but aunty only became angrier and, after informing me that 3.30 would become my regular holiday bedtime, asked Miss Masterton if she could think of an additional punishment. Miss Masterton paused for a moment before saying. "What if you were to bring him across to my house tomorrow at say 10 o'clock? He would be wearing his pretty girls pyjamas of course, we could get him to try on some more pairs and we could choose a pair for him to wear whilst he performed some chores for me. You needn't stay. I would bring him back in time for his bedtime of course." She smiled serenely as she spoke. "I may need to put him across my lap myself if his behaviour warrents, I trust that would be permissible? Like you, I do so believe in maternal spanking's to persuade naughty boys to do as they are told" Aunty enthusiastically agreed, adding that it was every females duty to regularly spank the males under their control, and thenI was put straight to bed wearing my frilly, pink floral pyjamas, dreading what the morning would bring.
Thursday, 6 September 2012
Maternal spankings, juvenile pyjamas and an early bedtime at the hands of aunty.
I had enjoyed a relaxing holiday and on my return I headed off to visit Aunty. Oops! I had forgotton to send her a postcard. In no time she had dressed me in my little boy punishment pyjamas and put me over her knee for a bedtime spanking. Aunty patiently explained as she took me across her lap, that since she was in effect my guardian, it was her maternal duty to treat me like a child when my behaviour warranted it. Subsequently I was put to bed at 4.30 on Friday afternoon and I spent the rest of the weekend experiencing pyjama and early bedtime punishment with frequent visits across auntys lap.
Friday, 24 August 2012
Sunday, 19 August 2012
Simon's Early Bedtime.
A semi-clad Simon ran toward the door and jumped up in a vain attempt to reach the door handle.
“Just where do you think you are going? You’ve just earned your first spanking you naughty little boy. Come here and let’s finish getting you undressed.” Simon, unable to answer thanks to the baby's dummy strapped into his mouth, was helpless as an immense pair of female hands grasped his shoulders and led him back to where the Miss Barnstable sat. The diminutive Simon was lifted back onto her lap where she held him more tightly than ever as Miss Earnshaw pulled his t-shirt off over his head and removed his underpants, leaving him sitting naked on the larger females lap.
Less than a half an hour earlier he had happily rang the doorbell of the four-storey house set slightly back from the rest of the row.
“You must be little baby Simon, we were expecting you earlier.”
Philip was taken aback to be addressed as baby Simon and at the size of the two women who greeted him. His aunt never mentioned that her friends were so tall. As he was only four foot six, being confronted by these two, grey-haired women who were both over six foot tall was quite intimidating.
“Your aunt advised us you would be here at 4 pm, it’s almost 4.15 now. Where have you been?”
"I, er.... just the train was...."
His aunt had allowed him to travel independently for the first time in his life and the train journey down had excited him immensely despite twice being asked by concerned-looking women if he had lost his parents. On both occasions, he had indignantly shown them his passport to prove he was seventeen.
"Don't mumble boy, come with me, we need to get you ready." The
These two intimidating women who he was to stay with during the summer made Simon feel as if he was being admonished for something as he was ushered into the front room and the door firmly closed behind him. His first impression was how everything was scaled to the height of the two women, even the door handles had been raised higher, way out of his reach, and he wondered how he would manoeuvre his way around the house.
"Get ready for what," he enquired nervously as he was led through.
He was struck as to how everything was scaled to meet the needs of the two women, even the door handles had been raised higher, way out of his reach, and he wondered how he would manoeuvre his way around the house.
One of his aunt’s friends sat upright on a hard-backed chair. The slightly taller one, wearing the pink floral blouse stood beside her and it was she who spoke to him.
“I am Miss Earnshaw, and this is Miss Barnstable,” she said indicating toward her seated companion.
“During your stay here, you will learn to behave in a manner that we see fit for a boy of your stature. You will be punished with regular over the knee spankings and since we have determined you little boy age to be that of a five-year-old you will be ready for bed wearing your little boy pyjamas by 3 pm every day.”
Simon thought that this was all some kind of joke and laughed nervously.
Miss Barnstable tapped her lap. “Something funny little boy? We are already late, time to get you ready for beddy-byes, come here.”
Miss Earnshaw reached for his arm and before he could react he found himself propelled forward and lifted onto Miss Barnstable’s lap. Her arms enveloped him, pinning him to her as Miss Earnshaw’s left hand grabbed his jaw and squeezed, forcing his mouth into an ‘o’ shape.
Simon felt the large, bulbous rubber teat engulf his mouth before he actually saw the blue dummy in her hand. The mouth guard rammed up against his upper and lower lips and he felt the rubber engulf his mouth as the Velcro straps were secured behind his head.
“Mmmmmphhh….” He tried to cry out but his tongue was unable to move and a nonsensical, infantile utterance was all he could muster.
Miss Earnshaw’s busy hands had already removed his shoes, socks and trousers before Miss Barnstaple’s grip slackened slightly to allow access to the hem of his t-shirt. He wriggled free and made his bid for freedom.
Back in the clutches of Miss Barnstable, the naked Simon was turned across her knee and his bare bottom was soundly spanked.
"Naughty naughty little boy." She spoke as she spanked, ignoring his frantically kicking legs and his muffled cries of protest. "It's a good job you can't reach the door handles.Imagine what could happen to our babykins if you went outside all by yourself. We won't let that happen though, will we? Our little Philip will always have one of us to look after him."
“Mmmmmphhh….” was all he could manage as the stinging spanks mercifully came to an end.
He was carried into the kitchen sobbing. Through his tear-misted eyes, he became more horrified as he found himself being lowered into a plastic bath. The tepid water engulfed him momentarily as his head was submerged, panicking he struggled until Miss Barnstable's strong hands lifted him up. The two women proceeded to wash him intimately, their strong arms ensuring he stayed firmly under their control. Finally, he was lifted out and enveloped in a fluffy towel that Miss Earnshaw used to quite roughly dry him. He was totally disorientated by now and as Miss Earnshaw laid him down onto a fresh clean towel it took him a few moments before he realised what was happening to him. She grabbed his ankles, lifting up his legs she slipped a nappy under him, Miss Barnstable continued to keep him firmly under her control as Miss Earnshaw lowered his legs, Simon felt the caress of the soft fluffy material as he was swiftly and expertly pinned into the nappy.
“Baby Simon will be spending a lot of time tucked up in beddy-byes so he needs to wear nappy-wappy's to keep his jimmy-jams all nice and dry.” Cooed Miss Earnshaw, using syrupy baby talk. The poor horrified seventeen-year-old then suffered the indignity of having a pair of blue plastic baby pants fitted over his nappy. Miss Barnstable hugged the nappy-clad teenager into her bosom and kissed his cheek, “what a sweet babykins you are,” she again cooed in her annoying baby voice.
Simon was totally bewildered and wondered what other humiliations he would have to endure. Then he saw Miss Earnshaw approach him again. In her hands was a baby blue pyjama jacket emblazoned with a Thomas the Tank motif that she held in front of her like a matadors cape.
Philip shook his head, “Mmmmmphhh…!”
Again he was unable to articulate the words that formed in his head.
Miss Barnstable forced his arm out straight and the pyjama jacket sleeve was slipped onto it. Philip was helpless as he felt the soft-brushed cotton surround his bare torso. Miss Earnshaw buttoned the pyjamas up to his neck as he tried to fight back by kicking out his legs that dangled toddler like over his captor's lap.
“Naughty- naughty little Philip, you will be punished severely for that misbehaviour,” warned Miss Barnstable as she slapped his legs with her bare hand. “Mmmmmphhh…!”
Miss Barnstable manoeuvred Philip so that Miss Earnshaw could ease his legs into the footed Thomas the Tank pyjama bottoms.
Poor Philip tried to wriggle and squirm free as he saw the pyjama bottoms but he was held more firmly than ever. As the pyjama bottoms were moved up his legs he noticed that the inseams of the pyjamas were sewn together. His legs were effectively becoming bound together.
Miss Barnstaple stood him down but still held him tight as Miss Earnshaw positioned the pyjama bottoms over the hem of his pyjama jacket. Buttonholes, sewn into in the waistband of the pyjama bottoms, enabled her to button the bottom to the top.
Philip’s left hand was then tied into a pale blue lambswool mitten that had a length of cord attached to it. Miss Earnshaw threaded the cord through loops on the waist of the pyjama bottoms and attached it to a matching mitten that was promptly tied onto Philips right hand.
Philip was lifted back onto Miss Barnstable’s lap and she turned to face a long mirror. He stared; horrified at the reflection of his helpless, infantile pyjama clad self.
“Mmmmmphhh…!” He protested pointlessly. Miss Barnstable grasped the ring of the dummy and waggled it up and down.
“Aren’t you a sweet little boy all ready for beddy-byes?” She asked mockingly and laughed as Philips nodding head appeared to agree with her statement.
She cuddled Philip into her chest, his cheek pressed against the pink floral material of her blouse as she similarly gently caressed his brushed cotton encased arm of his newly acquired pyjamas.
“There-there, we’ll soon have you tucked up in beddy-byes. It’s after your bedtime Philip, we had intended your bedtime to be 5 pm but until you learn to behave as we require from tomorrow you will have a 4 o’clock bedtime.”
The ripping sound of the Velcro signalled momentarily freedom, as suddenly his mouth was free of the large bulbous rubber teat. Unluckily for Simon the teat of a baby’s bottle immediately replaced it.
Miss Barnstable tipped Philip backwards. With incapacitated arms and legs, Philip was totally helpless to prevent himself ending up cradled in Miss Barnstable’s arms as if he were an infant in arms as warm sickly sweet milk hit the back of his throat.
“That’s a good boy, drink up all your milk so you can go sleepy-byes,” she urged, tipping the bottle ever more steeply.
Much to his relief Philip finished the bottle. He burped and a trickle of milk dribbled down his chin. Miss Barnstable laughed as she quickly re-inserted his dummy, “ Does baby need his windy-woos up den?” She teased, starting to rub his pyjama clad back in a circular motion. Simon could do nothing but sit on her lap and suffer the indignation being perpetrated upon him.
Worryingly, after a few minutes, Simon began to feel his eyes struggle to stay open and if he could have yawned he would have.
Miss Barnstable waggled his dummy again as she asked, “ Is Simon tired? Does Simon want to go to beddy-byes now?” Again she laughed as she made him nod his head in agreement.
Miss Barnstable stood up and Simon was lifted up into her arms. He involuntarily rested his head, heavy now with sleep, on her shoulder and he was aware of stairs being climbed.
“Aaahh, here you are. “Simon lifted his head slightly. Miss Earnshaw stood beside a blue painted cot, the rail on one side was lowered and Miss Barnstable stood him down onto a thick pile carpet.
Teetering unsteadily Simon was guided by the two women into the cot. His head was heavier than it had ever been and he was happy to lay it down on the pillow. He was almost asleep as the baby blue blanket was tucked around him and the cot rail was raised and locked into place.
Miss Earnshaw and Miss Barnstable looked down at their sleepy seventeen-year-old guest who was wearing a nappy, plastic baby pants and Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas while rhythmically sucking on a baby dummy.
“Just where do you think you are going? You’ve just earned your first spanking you naughty little boy. Come here and let’s finish getting you undressed.” Simon, unable to answer thanks to the baby's dummy strapped into his mouth, was helpless as an immense pair of female hands grasped his shoulders and led him back to where the Miss Barnstable sat. The diminutive Simon was lifted back onto her lap where she held him more tightly than ever as Miss Earnshaw pulled his t-shirt off over his head and removed his underpants, leaving him sitting naked on the larger females lap.
Less than a half an hour earlier he had happily rang the doorbell of the four-storey house set slightly back from the rest of the row.
“You must be little baby Simon, we were expecting you earlier.”
Philip was taken aback to be addressed as baby Simon and at the size of the two women who greeted him. His aunt never mentioned that her friends were so tall. As he was only four foot six, being confronted by these two, grey-haired women who were both over six foot tall was quite intimidating.
“Your aunt advised us you would be here at 4 pm, it’s almost 4.15 now. Where have you been?”
"I, er.... just the train was...."
His aunt had allowed him to travel independently for the first time in his life and the train journey down had excited him immensely despite twice being asked by concerned-looking women if he had lost his parents. On both occasions, he had indignantly shown them his passport to prove he was seventeen.
"Don't mumble boy, come with me, we need to get you ready." The
These two intimidating women who he was to stay with during the summer made Simon feel as if he was being admonished for something as he was ushered into the front room and the door firmly closed behind him. His first impression was how everything was scaled to the height of the two women, even the door handles had been raised higher, way out of his reach, and he wondered how he would manoeuvre his way around the house.
"Get ready for what," he enquired nervously as he was led through.
He was struck as to how everything was scaled to meet the needs of the two women, even the door handles had been raised higher, way out of his reach, and he wondered how he would manoeuvre his way around the house.
One of his aunt’s friends sat upright on a hard-backed chair. The slightly taller one, wearing the pink floral blouse stood beside her and it was she who spoke to him.
“I am Miss Earnshaw, and this is Miss Barnstable,” she said indicating toward her seated companion.
“During your stay here, you will learn to behave in a manner that we see fit for a boy of your stature. You will be punished with regular over the knee spankings and since we have determined you little boy age to be that of a five-year-old you will be ready for bed wearing your little boy pyjamas by 3 pm every day.”
Simon thought that this was all some kind of joke and laughed nervously.
Miss Barnstable tapped her lap. “Something funny little boy? We are already late, time to get you ready for beddy-byes, come here.”
Miss Earnshaw reached for his arm and before he could react he found himself propelled forward and lifted onto Miss Barnstable’s lap. Her arms enveloped him, pinning him to her as Miss Earnshaw’s left hand grabbed his jaw and squeezed, forcing his mouth into an ‘o’ shape.
Simon felt the large, bulbous rubber teat engulf his mouth before he actually saw the blue dummy in her hand. The mouth guard rammed up against his upper and lower lips and he felt the rubber engulf his mouth as the Velcro straps were secured behind his head.
“Mmmmmphhh….” He tried to cry out but his tongue was unable to move and a nonsensical, infantile utterance was all he could muster.
Miss Earnshaw’s busy hands had already removed his shoes, socks and trousers before Miss Barnstaple’s grip slackened slightly to allow access to the hem of his t-shirt. He wriggled free and made his bid for freedom.
Back in the clutches of Miss Barnstable, the naked Simon was turned across her knee and his bare bottom was soundly spanked.
"Naughty naughty little boy." She spoke as she spanked, ignoring his frantically kicking legs and his muffled cries of protest. "It's a good job you can't reach the door handles.Imagine what could happen to our babykins if you went outside all by yourself. We won't let that happen though, will we? Our little Philip will always have one of us to look after him."
“Mmmmmphhh….” was all he could manage as the stinging spanks mercifully came to an end.
He was carried into the kitchen sobbing. Through his tear-misted eyes, he became more horrified as he found himself being lowered into a plastic bath. The tepid water engulfed him momentarily as his head was submerged, panicking he struggled until Miss Barnstable's strong hands lifted him up. The two women proceeded to wash him intimately, their strong arms ensuring he stayed firmly under their control. Finally, he was lifted out and enveloped in a fluffy towel that Miss Earnshaw used to quite roughly dry him. He was totally disorientated by now and as Miss Earnshaw laid him down onto a fresh clean towel it took him a few moments before he realised what was happening to him. She grabbed his ankles, lifting up his legs she slipped a nappy under him, Miss Barnstable continued to keep him firmly under her control as Miss Earnshaw lowered his legs, Simon felt the caress of the soft fluffy material as he was swiftly and expertly pinned into the nappy.
“Baby Simon will be spending a lot of time tucked up in beddy-byes so he needs to wear nappy-wappy's to keep his jimmy-jams all nice and dry.” Cooed Miss Earnshaw, using syrupy baby talk. The poor horrified seventeen-year-old then suffered the indignity of having a pair of blue plastic baby pants fitted over his nappy. Miss Barnstable hugged the nappy-clad teenager into her bosom and kissed his cheek, “what a sweet babykins you are,” she again cooed in her annoying baby voice.
Simon was totally bewildered and wondered what other humiliations he would have to endure. Then he saw Miss Earnshaw approach him again. In her hands was a baby blue pyjama jacket emblazoned with a Thomas the Tank motif that she held in front of her like a matadors cape.
Philip shook his head, “Mmmmmphhh…!”
Again he was unable to articulate the words that formed in his head.
Miss Barnstable forced his arm out straight and the pyjama jacket sleeve was slipped onto it. Philip was helpless as he felt the soft-brushed cotton surround his bare torso. Miss Earnshaw buttoned the pyjamas up to his neck as he tried to fight back by kicking out his legs that dangled toddler like over his captor's lap.
“Naughty- naughty little Philip, you will be punished severely for that misbehaviour,” warned Miss Barnstable as she slapped his legs with her bare hand. “Mmmmmphhh…!”
Miss Barnstable manoeuvred Philip so that Miss Earnshaw could ease his legs into the footed Thomas the Tank pyjama bottoms.
Poor Philip tried to wriggle and squirm free as he saw the pyjama bottoms but he was held more firmly than ever. As the pyjama bottoms were moved up his legs he noticed that the inseams of the pyjamas were sewn together. His legs were effectively becoming bound together.
Miss Barnstaple stood him down but still held him tight as Miss Earnshaw positioned the pyjama bottoms over the hem of his pyjama jacket. Buttonholes, sewn into in the waistband of the pyjama bottoms, enabled her to button the bottom to the top.
Philip’s left hand was then tied into a pale blue lambswool mitten that had a length of cord attached to it. Miss Earnshaw threaded the cord through loops on the waist of the pyjama bottoms and attached it to a matching mitten that was promptly tied onto Philips right hand.
Philip was lifted back onto Miss Barnstable’s lap and she turned to face a long mirror. He stared; horrified at the reflection of his helpless, infantile pyjama clad self.
“Mmmmmphhh…!” He protested pointlessly. Miss Barnstable grasped the ring of the dummy and waggled it up and down.
“Aren’t you a sweet little boy all ready for beddy-byes?” She asked mockingly and laughed as Philips nodding head appeared to agree with her statement.
She cuddled Philip into her chest, his cheek pressed against the pink floral material of her blouse as she similarly gently caressed his brushed cotton encased arm of his newly acquired pyjamas.
“There-there, we’ll soon have you tucked up in beddy-byes. It’s after your bedtime Philip, we had intended your bedtime to be 5 pm but until you learn to behave as we require from tomorrow you will have a 4 o’clock bedtime.”
The ripping sound of the Velcro signalled momentarily freedom, as suddenly his mouth was free of the large bulbous rubber teat. Unluckily for Simon the teat of a baby’s bottle immediately replaced it.
Miss Barnstable tipped Philip backwards. With incapacitated arms and legs, Philip was totally helpless to prevent himself ending up cradled in Miss Barnstable’s arms as if he were an infant in arms as warm sickly sweet milk hit the back of his throat.
“That’s a good boy, drink up all your milk so you can go sleepy-byes,” she urged, tipping the bottle ever more steeply.
Much to his relief Philip finished the bottle. He burped and a trickle of milk dribbled down his chin. Miss Barnstable laughed as she quickly re-inserted his dummy, “ Does baby need his windy-woos up den?” She teased, starting to rub his pyjama clad back in a circular motion. Simon could do nothing but sit on her lap and suffer the indignation being perpetrated upon him.
Worryingly, after a few minutes, Simon began to feel his eyes struggle to stay open and if he could have yawned he would have.
Miss Barnstable waggled his dummy again as she asked, “ Is Simon tired? Does Simon want to go to beddy-byes now?” Again she laughed as she made him nod his head in agreement.
Miss Barnstable stood up and Simon was lifted up into her arms. He involuntarily rested his head, heavy now with sleep, on her shoulder and he was aware of stairs being climbed.
“Aaahh, here you are. “Simon lifted his head slightly. Miss Earnshaw stood beside a blue painted cot, the rail on one side was lowered and Miss Barnstable stood him down onto a thick pile carpet.
Teetering unsteadily Simon was guided by the two women into the cot. His head was heavier than it had ever been and he was happy to lay it down on the pillow. He was almost asleep as the baby blue blanket was tucked around him and the cot rail was raised and locked into place.
Miss Earnshaw and Miss Barnstable looked down at their sleepy seventeen-year-old guest who was wearing a nappy, plastic baby pants and Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas while rhythmically sucking on a baby dummy.
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
Replies from Pyjama Punishment Monthly
Thank you for your most informative magazine. I was struggling to keep my nephew Simon from going off the rails until I discovered pyjama punishment. Now, at the age of sixteen he goes to bed on school nights at 6.30. I collect him from school at 3.30 as if he was a toddler and as soon as we arrive home I supervise bath time and dress him in his pyjamas ready for bed. My neighbour Miss Fulbright makes his pyjamas especially for him. She uses babyish patterned brushed cotton material for his pyjamas that he absolutely hates wearing. Two months into his pyjama punishment I still put him across my knee every night for a spanking to remind him that aunty is in charge. Once he is safely buttoned into his pyjamas he settles down to his studies until I call him for supper. At 6 o’clock he brushes his teeth and presents himself to me. It is then that I take him across my knee for his bedtime spanking. After his spanking he receives a cuddle from aunty and I take him upstairs to tuck him into bed.
His bedroom is strictly functional. There are no electronic distractions, just a bed and a chair that I sit in to read him a bedtime story. His curtains are made from blackout material and ensure no daylight can penetrate once they are fully drawn. This is particularly helpful during the lighter nights when Simon is reluctant to go to sleep. I use a nightlight to read to him but once this is turned off his bedroom is in total darkness, just right to induce a healthy nights sleep.
On Friday night I follow the same early routine with Simon, he is bathed, dressed in his pyjamas but his bedtime is 7 o’clock. The only proviso is that Simon must spend that extra half hour sitting on my lap for extra bedtime cuddles. Problems usually occur on Saturdays when I like him to be ready for bed by 3pm aiming for a 5 o’clock bedtime. Miss Fulbright and her sister come for afternoon tea and I like them to see Simon dressed in the babyish pyjamas she has kindly made for him. For some reason Simon resists my attempts to get him ready for beddy-byes and always ends up in tears across my knee. Am I being too harsh on him on Saturdays? I would dearly appreciate some advice from your contributors as to how I can proceed with Simon’s pyjamas punishment.
Yours truly
Beatrice Halewood.
Dear Beatrice
I had a similar problem with my son at the same age.
Perhaps you should consider this approach.
Either for bed on Friday or when he gets up on Saturday,
dress him in female nightwear, perhaps a long pink nightie or some floral
pyjamas. Then, when your guests are due to arrive; offer him the chance to
change into a pair of the little boy pyjamas that Miss Fulbright has sewn for
him. I have no doubt Simon will jump at
the chance to change from his feminine nightwear into his usual style pyjamas.
In this way you will give Simon the impression that you are empowering him and
that he has influence over what pyjamas he wears. Then, to reinforce your
position of dominance put him to bed at 4.45 instead of 5.Something like,”
you’re a little bit too excited Simon, I think it’s best you say goodnight and
we get you tucked into bed.” A firm hand on his shoulders should be enough to
steer him up to bed without tears or spankings.
Hope this helps.
Mrs Dingle
Of course you are not being to hard on him. Be firm and
don’t take any nonsense from him. Spank him without mercy with a slipper and
put him to bed at 5 on school nights when possible. Pyjamas and nappies to be
worn at all times during the weekend and give him corner time with a dummy in
his mouth. Put him to bed at lunchtime during the weekend and above all make
sure he stays your little baby boy.
No-nonsense mummy.
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Monday, 6 August 2012
Sunday, 5 August 2012
A more recent post from Pyjama Punishment Monthly. I will give you a chance to offer your own advice before I publish some of the replies.
Thank you for your most informative magazine. I was
struggling to keep my nephew Simon from going off the rails until I discovered
pyjama punishment. Now, at the age of sixteen he goes to bed on school nights
at 6.30. I collect him from school at 3.30 as if he was a toddler and as soon
as we arrive home I supervise bath time and dress him in his pyjamas ready for
bed. My neighbour Miss Fulbright makes his pyjamas especially for him. She uses
babyish patterned brushed cotton material for his pyjamas that he absolutely
hates wearing. Two months into his pyjama punishment I still put him across my
knee every night for a spanking to remind him that aunty is in charge. Once he
is safely buttoned into his pyjamas he settles down to his studies until I call
him for supper. At 6 o’clock he brushes his teeth and presents himself to me.
It is then that I take him across my knee for his bedtime spanking. After his
spanking he receives a cuddle from aunty and I take him upstairs to tuck him
into bed.
His bedroom is strictly functional. There are no
electronic distractions, just a bed and a chair that I sit in to read him a
bedtime story. His curtains are made from blackout material and ensure no
daylight can penetrate once they are fully drawn. This is particularly helpful
during the lighter nights when Simon is reluctant to go to sleep. I use a
nightlight to read to him but once this is turned off his bedroom is in total
darkness, just right to induce a healthy nights sleep.
On Friday night I follow the same early routine with
Simon, he is bathed, dressed in his pyjamas but his bedtime is 7 o’clock. The
only proviso is that Simon must spend that extra half hour sitting on my lap
for extra bedtime cuddles. Problems usually occur on Saturdays when I like him
to be ready for bed by 3pm aiming for a 5 o’clock bedtime. Miss Fulbright and
her sister come for afternoon tea and I like them to see Simon dressed in the
babyish pyjamas she has kindly made for him. For some reason Simon resists my
attempts to get him ready for beddy-byes and always ends up in tears across my
knee. Am I being too harsh on him on Saturdays? I would dearly appreciate some
advice from your contributors as to how I can proceed with Simon’s pyjamas
punishment.
Yours truly
Beatrice Halewood.
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