This is a repost from July, I didn't realise that the postings appearance was messed up. For some reason the background is wrong and I can't amend it.

MY  SWEET LITTLE LAMBIKINS

Dear Pyjama Punishment Monthly
I must tell you about my marvellous neighbour Madame Peine who, having spent many years living and working in France, only returned to these shores after being widowed. It is her that I have to thank for recommending the excellent methods that have been so efficient in disciplining my wayward son. Because she lived next door, and her own three daughters were the victims of some stupid jokes and cat-calls from Andrew over the back garden fence, she immediately recognised the problems I was experiencing with him and suggested that she would be willing to help implement the cure herself.

Since I worked each day, I eagerly accepted her offer and was amazed at how quickly her methods took effect, as I witnessed one afternoon.

Even though it was not quite 3.30 I could see Andrew being dressed for bed by Madame Peine. His pink gingham romper suit already lay discarded on the floor. I watched as she unfolded his winceyette, baby girl pyjamas. The cream ones with the sweet little frolicking lambs on and the darling little Peter Pan collar. Madame was having great success in fashioning a whole new baby girl wardrobe for Lambikins, his new sissy name.

Andrew had thrown a little tantrum at being dressed for bed so early in such babyish girls' pyjamas and I was amused at how quickly his demeanour had become that of a small child rather than his true age. Madame quickly stopped his nonsense by the award of one spanking ticket, her simple but effective way of maintaining discipline. Soon he was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching a 'Bananas in Pyjamas' video sucking obediently on his dummy. 

"Hello, Lambikins, Mummy’s home." Startled at my sudden appearance he jumped to his feet, the loose-fitting pyjamas hanging baggily upon him. His dummy fell from his mouth and swung loosely from the ribbon pinned to his pyjama jacket.

"G-Good afternoon Mummy," he stuttered. I bent down toward him proffering my cheek as he reluctantly kissed me, unwilling to forgo the attraction of the Bananas video.

You may wonder why an older boy like Andrew was avidly watching a toddler's' TV programme, well it is all down to the admirable Madame Peine. She has painstakingly compiled five question on each episode of  Bananas in Pyjamas, and each incorrect answer earns Andrew a spanking ticket, five tickets earns an over the knee spanking, usually administered for maximum humiliation in front of Madame’s ‘crème de la crème’ from her lady friends, who have been especially selected to witness and enhance Andrew's humiliation at being subject to babying and pyjama punishment. "One spanking ticket for not waving goodbye, that makes four today, Lambikins," Madame informed him with some relish. "Was Lambikins watching close enough I wonder?" Andrew sat on the floor; hands clasped together and back ramrod straight as Madame consulted her list of questions.I sat Andrew on my lap and admired the needlecraft of Madame Peine.

"Madame, Lambikins looks so sweet in these baby girl pyjamas I want him to wear them at his special tea party. Is everything ready?" I asked.

I had an extremely nervous Andrew on my lap. "Tea party, what tea party?" he asked, squirming in my arms anxiously.

I held him tightly as I told him about the invitations I had delivered to his friends; I showed him an invite; on it was a picture of a sweet little girl dressed in a swishy pink party dress holding a balloon, and she was saying:

Master Andrew Fairchild requests the presence of …… at four thirty for jelly and ice cream, followed by a concert of Baby Bunting, and other nursery songs. Little Master Fairchild will then be escorted to beddy-byes at six o’clock prompt.

His face turned pale. "What’s the matter?" I teased in baby talk, "Doesn’t my lickle Lambikins want to see his fwends, and sing Baby, Baby Bunting for them? There are some nice girls coming, Lambikins."      Actual tears filled his eyes at the thought of singing his little song dressed in his baby girl jim-jams. "If you don’t want them to come I suppose you could ring and tell them that you will be too busy being my little Lambikins to see them."

Andrew seized the opportunity and I listened with satisfaction as he effectively excommunicated his friends.

"It was just a joke by my Mother there is no party. No, I go to bed when I like. Sorry I won’t have time to see you for a while. No, don’t ring or come round."

This was the gist of his frantic calls. Such was his relief at avoiding such a humiliating experience he almost welcomed the attention of Madame Peine. Fortunately, he was unaware of what was to follow.” Now then my poppet," said Madame as she hoisted him into her arms, "who is going to eat all this food now that your friends aren’t coming?" The table was full of childish food, jelly, cakes, and of course ice cream. "Will the little lambs want some do you think?"  She pointed to the lambs on his pyjamas as she slipped him into his high chair and lowered the food tray.

"Answer Madame Peine, Lambikins." I prompted.

"Maybe," he replied hesitantly, uncertain of how to reply. "Don’t be a silly Lambikins; the lambs on your baby jammies can’t eat ice cream, can they? Never mind sweet one," she laughed as she tied a pink towelling bib around his neck, "I know just the people to help you eat up all your lovely party food." She opened the window and called out, and across came her three little girls from next door, none of whom liked Andrew very much."Oh my, I like your pyjamas Lambikins, what sweet little lambs, my baby cousin has a pair just like them but she’s only three," teased Melanie, "are you going to beddy-byes shortly? I do hope you are going to sing a song for us."

Andrew blushed furiously and was helpless as I enhanced his embarrassment by pouring juice into a big sippy cup for him to use. The girls giggled at Andrew and fed him ice cream that became smeared over his face. They messily wiped his chin with his pink bib, while he sat still in helpless embarrassment.

Quickly though they became absorbed in devouring the party food, and left poor Andrew to sit unhappily in his high chair until Madame Peine wiped his face properly clean and lifted him down from the chair. "Come along girls, time for our baby Lambikins to prepare for beddy-byes."

A mad scramble ensued as the girls rushed to find seats. Meanwhile, Andrew had begun to whimper, "Please Mummy, I don’t want to go to bed yet. Please send the girls away.” Now Lambikins, you know very well why you are being punished, so just do as you are told and concentrate on remembering your darling little song. The girls and I are looking forward to it immensely. Now off you go with Madame."

As we waited, the girls excitedly showed me the projects that Madame had set them to enhance Andrew’s new wardrobe. I was overwhelmed as I examined the gorgeous bonnet that was nearly finished, save for the frill to be added. Made from the same pink gingham as his romper suit, I commented how it would protect Andrew from the sun when he began to take his naps in the garden.

The mittens and matching bootees that had been knitted in soft white wool would complement perfectly his long, white flannelette nightie. Once Madame had supplied the lace for the bodice, we could enjoy a truly babified and petticoated Lambikins, snugly dressed for beddy-byes. 

Face washed, and teeth cleaned, Andrew appeared in front of us clutching his teddy bear. Madame Peine now asked him to recite his little nursery rhyme for the girls:

"Baby, baby bunting,

Daddy's gone a-hunting,

To get a little rabbit skin

To wrap our baby bunting in....." Just as Madame had taught him, the last line was his cue to give a little curtsey. The girls broke into spontaneous applause and laughter, urging us to order an encore. Andrew’s face was beetroot red with embarrassment, and I was sorely tempted to comply, but Madame was already beckoning Andrew toward her. "Well done Sugarplum," she praised, "but next time I want to see more enthusiasm at the final flourish."
Madame lowered his pyjama bottoms once again and settled him on her lap. Displaying her years of experience, she expertly powdered his bottom and pinned him snugly into his fluffy, white night time nappies.

"There, all ready for night-night aren’t we, tuppence." She gave him a babyish wet kiss on his cheek and then lay him face down across her knees. "Did Lambikins think Madame Peine had forgotten baby’s punishment?" she asked the hapless Andrew, as she gave him a few smacks on his heavily nappied bottom.

The girls were spellbound at witnessing Andrews’s spanking. He cried out for Madame to stop, not because she had hurt him, but because of his utter humiliation. He felt faint, and at last, he was beginning to learn his lesson.

Madame Peine effortlessly lifted Andrew into her arms. Her large frame easily allowed her to balance my diminutive son in the classic, carried-to-bed position. One arm supported his weight while the other, firmly clasped around his torso, kept him securely snuggled to her as his arm curled instinctively around her shoulders, the other hugging his beloved teddy bear. His dummy was inserted, and the girls oohed and ahhed at baby’s predicament. "Say goodnight to Sleepyhead girls, it’s after six o’clock now, far too late for tired babies to be up."

They each bade poor Andrew goodnight as if he was a sweet little baby girl being put to bed, instead of a much older male.

"Come back tomorrow afternoon girls, and I will show you how I bath our little Lambikins." Andrew’s eyes widened in horror as he heard Madame’s words but the only reaction he could muster was to suck his dummy louder and faster.

Madame smiled as she carried the hapless pyjama-clad Andrew off to beddy-byes, and I could only reflect on how lucky he and I both were to have such an expert practitioner of petticoat and bedtime discipline.

Please continue to demonstrate to other desperate mothers, wives, and aunts, how your petticoating and babying methods can result in such a brilliant success as Madame has achieved with Andrew.
Thank you very much,

Agnes Jacobson

This is a story of Janice's I kept and have just re-discovered. I hope she doesn't mind me posting it here. You know where to find me if you wish to Janice.

 ONE STEP AT A TIME

BY JANICE

The Colletta household was never quite the same when Catherine Jessica arrived. Her father remarried and she was forced to move in to the large house with her new mother and her young daughter, Anna Marie. Catherine was a loner and being with her dad, she was pretty much free to do as she pleased. She did not like the rigidity of the household rules and the atmosphere, but her father was in love. It wasn't too soon after that Edward lost his job but found a three-year contract with an overseas firm and had to leave almost immediately. Catherine begged him to let her go, but he would not have it. She was doomed to spend her time with the Coletta's and that was not to her liking.  She had just finished school and her stepmother was pushing her to get a job and go to college. Catherine wanted neither. She just wanted to be left alone to do as she pleased and enjoy life with her frivolous friends. She was annoyed with her immediate situation.
 Anna Marie was a pest to Catherine. She found her teenaged ways and life so shallow and dumb. They never got along with each other and her friends disliked Catherine a great deal for one reason or another. They would pass each other in the house and Catherine would give her a disgusted look or make a snide comment about her appearance or worse yet, embarrass her in front of her friends. Anna Marie rarely attacked back, but rather acted far more mature and usually commented on Catherine's "condition" that prevented her from playing nice all the other children. This brought laughter from her friends, who thought that she was very, very cool.
Catherine did have the financial support from her father to have many nice clothes and things, and her stepmother took notice of her careless spending habits, especially when it came to her hair. The money was spent before she even received it. She was not aware of an agreement and understanding that her father and stepmother made before he left. It was done to fill the gap in her life with daddy gone for such a long time. The winds of change were whispering through the trees….

Catherine was overjoyed with her graduation from high school. It was time to spread her wings and fly away, maybe even join her dad. She was spending large sums of money on her hair every month and clothes. She spent and spent and spent. On this day she was in a very typical bitch mode and was singing as she made her way down the hallway. In her boisterous outer celebration, she came upon her stepsister Anna Marie in the bathroom, combing out her rich, dark black hair. Catherine snickered.

"Don't forget to clean up all that rat's nest in the sink when you’re done OK? It’s not nice to leave your hair there for all to see. Why someone might think your going bald dear! …."

Anna Marie turned to look and smiled. "Gee Catherine, I thought that was your leg hair. Why don't find yourself some nice pills and swallow the entire bottle."
Catherine turned away laughing and mimicked her stepsister. She was not going to let her ruin her day either! …
Anna Marie was a very nice girl, but bitchy when she didn't get her own way and knew how to get what she wanted. She was always in control of herself. Her mother favoured her and she knew it. This resulted in favours, long nights out, credit card privileges and even a home computer in her room. Catherine was no threat to her. Suddenly her mother called. She was calling for Catherine.

"Catherine where are you? The dishes need to get done. Get in this kitchen this instant!"

Catherine slowly made her way to the kitchen. It was mid-morning and she was sloppily dressed for the day. She was attired in old jeans, an old torn sweatshirt and clogs. Her hair that she loved so much was the only thing combed out and looking beautiful and that makeup was very much overdone.  Marjorie shook her head in utter disgust and spoke to her stepdaughter like a child.

"Catherine, I'll bet you think now that you are a graduate and the oldest in the house, you can do as you please, don't you? I have been very good to you and given you anything you want within reason that is. It's time I set the record straight. You are not presentable for the day young lady. You are a slob.  After dishes, you are to march yourself upstairs and wear more cleaner attire, am I understood?"

"Yes mother of course I will change."

Catherine sneered back at her stepmother. It was nice to be impolite she thought. After all, she wanted to live here in the first place. Marjorie sensed Catherine's antagonism with her, making a mental note to discuss this matter with her later and preceded to the market to purchase the day's food. Catherine proceeded with dishes and went back upstairs where Anna Marie was putting on her makeup and singing to herself in her bedroom. It wasn't long before more words were exchanged and Anna Marie left out the house. Catherine laughed herself into frenzy as she had thought she had finally got the better of her stepsister. She lounged around watching television until Marjorie arrived home several hours later. Still in her sloppy attire, she seemed to forget her stepmother's insistence on being properly attired for the day. Catherine looked terrible. Marjorie set the bags of groceries down and approached Catherine. She did not like what she saw….

"Catherine we need to talk. I just spoke to Sally down the street and it seems that you have been teasing and harassing her fifteen year old daughter, Denise about her looks. She said you have used very vulgar language and had the girl crying. I think it's time we set the record straight."

Catherine remembered that day very well. Only she was with her stepsister, it was Anna Marie doing the teasing, not her. She looked into her step-mom's eyes and neither confirmed or denied the fact. She looked as if she didn't even care. What did all this mean anyway?

"Catherine, you are no longer a silly schoolgirl and you have not looked for a job, nor have you applied to any college. You are sloppy and spend money without concern for value. Your attitude towards others is appalling. Let me explain a few things so you understand where this all leading my girl! Before your father left, he gave me complete control over you and that means that you are in my house under my rules and you will obey them to the letter. You have been surly, unruly, sloppy and sarcastic to name just a few of your traits. I will no longer allow you to behave in that manner. From this point on things are going to change and we will start with a lesson on your behind to remind you what happens to bad girls in this house.

"What? Spank me? Are you joking? You can't touch me, no way mommy dearest! I am out of here shortly. I am going to joining daddy overseas. I…"

Marjorie pulled Catherine from the couch and quickly unsnapped her jeans and pulled them down to her knees. She was wearing a thong. Marjorie despised that type of underwear and pulled them down too. Catherine was taken over her lap and Marjorie began to slap her lower thighs with her strong hand. Catherine was fighting to get up and reached behind with her hand and tried to cover herself. This only resulted in her arm being tucked up in her back to prevent any interference. For the first time in her life she was about to get a spanking that she deserved. She squirmed and screamed at her stepmother. There was no way she was going to cooperate with such a childish punishment….

Marjorie continued her paddling of her stepdaughter alternating each cheek and then each thigh. She made a note to retrieve her long handled hairbrush and continue again. She did have an eighteen-inch wooden ruler nearby and continued with over fifty hard smacks to her soft bottom, chiding her with each smack and telling her what a naughty girl she was. At first, Catherine was sarcastic and resistive, but soon, tears and pleas followed much to Marjorie's delight. After the spanking, Marjorie allowed her to just lie across her lap and decided this was a good time to start with some simple house rules.

"Now Catherine, that's just the beginning my dear. After I allow you up, you will go and stand in the corner for one full hour. No slouching, legs straight, eyes forward and nose touching the wall. Hands will be placed on top of your head. I will be here in this room watching you, so don't think you can get away with anything naughty.

During your time in the corner I want you to think about just how nasty you been around this house and that your behaviour will definitely change. Do you understand me? …."

The sobbing and crying from Catherine indicated that she did and Marjorie was pleased. She had no place to go.

"Starting next month, I will be receiving your financial allowance from your dad and I will use it as I see fit for your benefit. You will no longer be allowed to spend money as freely as you have."

Catherine was devastated. She would die now. Without money what would she do? She needed her friends and what about her lovely hair? There had to be some other way, there had to be! ….

Once up, Catherine marched over to the corner, but not before Marjorie pulled up her torn shirt and wasn't surprised that she didn't wear a bra. She took the clothes and threw them in a pile. It was time to go through her room. She positioned Catherine in the corner and sat down to watch her and read some correspondence. It was torture to be treated this way and Catherine was slouching a little and making noises and moving a bit.

Marjorie noticed and occasionally swatted her with the ruler reminding her how to stand and talking to her like a child. The hour seemed to last forever and then Marjorie got up and left the room with the pile of sloppy and dirty clothes. Minutes later she returned with some clothing and ordered Catherine to turn around. She held up the new pyjamas before her and Catherine's eyes bulged. It was barely eleven o'clock in the morning,

"You look surprised dear! Yes pyjamas, you will wear pyjamas today. All of your clothes are just so horrible. These are special pyjamas. They are double insulated cotton and should fit you just like those designer jeans you wear. You know, that tight to the butt feeling now sit down! …"

Catherine did so and the jammie pants were pulled up to her knees. The colour was white with red stripes and they looked rather childish. The top was put on and these were buttoned from behind which was unusual. Then her pyjama bottoms were pulled up. They were very tight for pyjamas, showing her curves quite well. In fact, they were too tight! She felt and looked ridiculous.

"You will wear your pyjamas today as a reminder to behave and will greet anyone who comes over in your pyjamas as well. We will clean your room and sort your clothes when we return from our little walk. Let's go, you have an apology to make!"

Catherine was taken back and began to question her stepmother, but decided she had better not, for she already felt foolish and ridiculous. She was given a pair of white ballet slippers to wear and outside they went and down the street. Catherine felt ridiculous not only wearing pyjamas but in the daytime and in the street with everyone staring at her? She was laughed at and made fun of by the local children and soon they came upon Ann Marie and several of her friends. They made fun of Catherine and enjoyed her predicament. The public humiliation was too much for the nineteen-year-old young adult. The laughing could be heard from the other end of the street and shouts of "bad girl" and "pyjama girl" could also be heard….

They soon arrived at Sally's house and her mother greeted the pair and invited them in. Catherine was made to apologize for her behaviour (which was actually Anna Marie's behaviour) and despite Sally's grinning all the while, she finished it. Marjorie wasn't satisfied though and offered Sally's mother the hairbrush to spank her over pyjamas as her bottom was already plenty sore. She took Catherine over her lap and began the assault. A full five minutes of hairbrush spanking, yelping, pleading and crying brought claps of happiness from fifteen-year-old Sally. She was very pleased at the outcome.

Standing up, Marjorie thanked her hosts and took Catherine by the hand back home after announcing that it was time to clean up her room. They walked back home to the tune of more ridicule from children and laughter from the many adults they passed. The sight of an older girl wearing pyjamas in public was ridiculous and entertaining. And they were very, very tight! Catherine was not all comfortable in this attire. They were not loose fitting like pyjamas are supposed to be.

Back at home, Catherine was marched to her room and cleaned it up and Marjorie took note of her clothing. It was time to make a needed change. The bed was properly set and her makeup put away and then confiscated. Catherine was surprised at this.
"You will not be needing makeup Catherine! Little girls do not need cosmetics. Mommy will take that."

Annoyed at her stepmother, Catherine was getting very angry and that was so noted. Marjorie was satisfied that the room was spotless and took Catherine by the arm.

"Let's go downstairs dear. I have a lot for you to do this afternoon. But first let's have some lunch."

They walked downstairs and Catherine was put to work putting away dishes and washing the dirty ones whilst her stepmother prepared lunch. She was ordered to sit down and a steaming bowl of oatmeal was placed before her without fruit or milk. She hated oatmeal. She ate it reluctantly as her stepmother watched with a grin and then had to finish the rest of the dishes. There was a lot more chores to do. Laundry, vacuuming, cleaning the upholstery, tidying up, dusting, the list never ended and she was tired. Finally at about three o'clock Marjorie told her to prepare a nice hot bubble bath and go soak for a while. Tired as she was, Catherine did so, thinking that her stepmother was being kind. Soon after, Ann Marie and a group of friends came in and watched TV in the living room, but Catherine didn't care, she was going for a nice long soak.
Moments after she lie back to enjoy the warmth of the bubbling water, the bathroom door opened and in walked her stepmother.  She was shocked.

"Excuse me! I'm taking a bath here mother. So if you don't mind…"

"Oh I don't mind dear daughter. I am going to help wash you, and you had better mind yourself or I'll spank you bare ass naked in front of your sister and her friends. I can't have you lounging all day in here! …"

Catherine continued her barrage of complaints which made Marjorie very angry and she unwrapped a bar of Strawberry scented glycerine soap and with one quick movement shoved it deeply into Catherine's pouty mouth.

"Here Catherine, suck on that for a while. It's strawberry flavoured so you just might enjoy it. Now mommy is going to wash you so stand up and put your arms in the air."
Catherine did as she was told and she was lathered form head to toe and annoyed as she was touched everywhere by her annoying stepmother. She resented being touched on her breasts and her pubic area and winced and tried to pull away and only received a good slap to the buttocks in return. She was rinsed and dried off and the glycerine bar was removed from her mouth and she was allowed to thoroughly rinse her mouth of the soapy taste. Then she was told to go to her room and wait there by the window.
Catherine stood and shrugged her shoulders in disgust. She just couldn't stand being treated like a child anymore. If only her dad were here. Marjorie placed a bundle of light clothing on the bed and spun her stepdaughter around.

"It's time to get you dressed and then there's some work to do in the kitchen."

She held up the top and Catherine almost cried. It was pyjamas again! But this time they had pictures of the Power Puff Girls on them in lurid pink! They were horrid. She put on the top and Marjorie sat her down and helped with the bottoms. These were very special jimjams. They were made of cotton and were very opaque, but were not loose fitting like regular pyjamas. They fit snug to her body, just like dancewear or cotton tights would and the top had snaps that fastened to the bottoms. They even had sewn in feet with padded bottoms.  The wrists had snaps too and Catherine not noticing them just looked herself over and stewed.

"Oh mother, oh no! You can't make me wear these ridiculous things. They are so tight and childish. I feel so terrible and small in them, oh please let me change, oh mother, please! Oh please!"

Marjorie just smiled back and patted her on her tight rear end.

"You will wear these pyjamas as a reminder to behave and to act properly young lady. Now you will go downstairs and do your chores before beddy byes. So March!"

As they walked into the living room, there sat Ann Marie and three of her friends. Catherine's knees felt like jelly and she turned to run and hide but was stopped by her stepmother. She was jeered and laughed at by the younger girls for wearing pyjamas and skin-tight ones that made them laugh even more. The comments were devastating to her. She was ordered to get them refreshments and act like a little lady, unless she wanted her bottom bared for a good spanking in front of them. With tears in her eyes and gulping hard, Catherine served refreshments, despite the jeering and taunting of the girls. She was embarrassed and ashamed at this public display of deliberate humiliation. She spent the next hour in the kitchen doing prep work and cleanup and was becoming very tired. The clock struck 5:00 P.M. when Catherine was just about finished with her work. Marjorie sensed her tiredness and took her hand.

"It's bedtime dear! No dinner for you, just a nice glass of warm milk. Let's say goodnight to your sister and her friends and it's off to lullaby land for you. You have been too naughty to be allowed up this evening."

Catherine was resistant, but forced to march and say goodnight to a bunch of delighted schoolgirls who loved the idea of a bad girl being forced to go to bed early as a punishment for misbehaviour.

"Catherine, your sister and I discussed a few matters concerning your behaviour and I have decided that for the next thirty days you are grounded. That means you will wear only pyjamas during the daytime hours and you will receive changes at bedtime. You will be bathed and ready in your clean jammies by 3:00 and in bed by 5:00 each and every day. You will be given chores and that includes any your sister gives you as well. You will be spanked each day and how and when will depend on you. If you disobey even for the slightest reason during that time, I will add on another thirty days and so on. Do you understand? Hopefully you will be compliant and your punishment will end in thirty days. If not, well my dear, you will get used to spankings, very early bedtimes and pyjamas for a very, very long time."

Ann Marie looked at her sister with a big smirk. She was going to make sure that she would never make it through her first thirty days without an incident. She threw Catherine a kiss and laughed as Marjorie took her by the ear and up the stairs she went and into bed. Marjorie covered her up and tucked her in, kissing her goodnight. Catherine was being reduced to the status of a child, and although she resented it, she had no choice and decided to be on her best behaviour.

Another collection from the archives of Pyjama Punishment Monthly

I'm nearly 20 and have (much) earlier bedtimes than my two younger half-sisters (13 and 11). My mother prefers the girls and likes to stay in peace and chat with them in the evening. That's why she send me to bed at 6 pm on weekdays, at 8 pm on Saturday because my sisters usually dine (and sometimes also sleep) by friends, and at 4 pm (or earlier) on Sunday afternoon. I've the same bedtimes during holydays. My younger sisters not only have to go to bed later than me, but the most often that's they who make me ready for bed. They sometimes baby-sit me. I'm also put to bed daytime as a punishment, because mom or sisters have guests, because mom goes out, or even because of bad weather which forces us to stay indoor. I'm curious to know if other big boys or girls are in the same situation.

I saw your posting on Google so here I am. I have lots of questions but I will start with a few. It looks like you added some questions to the poll, is this correct? I would like to know more about what you wear to bed and how you are put to bed for a start.
Can you describe your nightclothes in detail? In the last question you mention wearing a nightie, can you tell me more about styles and materials? Are you involved in buying them and do you have any choice in what you wear? Also do you wear different nighties if you are being punished or sent to bed for your sister's convenience? Do you normally wear anything else to bed like a nightcap, earplugs or a sleep mask? How do you feel wearing nighties, are they comfortable, embarrassing, exciting or?
When you are in bed are you allowed to read or listen to music and can you get up to go to the bathroom or is your door locked? Do you have a baby monitor in your room? What sort of sheets and covers are on your bed and are there any other restrictions on you. Does your mother use medication to make you sleep?
When you are prepared for bed do you undress yourself or does another undress you? Is this different for a punishment? When do you normally change into your nightie? Also what are the arrangements for bathing, both normally and for a punishment?
When your sisters baby-sit you do they treat you more strictly (earlier bedtime or immediate bed time) or the same. Does anybody else baby-sit you if your mother and sisters are away?

"How you are put to bed for a start?"
I've ever been put to bed early by mom. At the birth of Edith, my first half-sister, I was 6 y.o. My bedtime was already set at 6:00 pm. My sister did sleep in my room at the same time. Two years later, when Sarah, my other sister came, that continues so: bedtime at 6 for the three of us, in the same bedroom. When Edith was 7 (and I was 13-14), she slept in her own bedroom and her bedtime was later because she had dance lessons and mom takes care of her. My bedtime and the one of Sarah did stay at 6 for a while, until Sarah starts also to dance and to play piano. Both the girls had then the same room (my former one, I had to move in a smaller one), and a later bedtime than mine that did stay at 6:00 pm. Since such an early bedtime suits mom (who doesn't like I'd go out in the evening and thinks I'm less mature and reliable than the girls) and my sisters (who can stay in peace after dinner with mom, play together, chat, watch TV programs they prefer€¦), I've still to be ready to sleep for the night at 6:00. As when I was younger, I've then to make me ready for bed at 5:15 and to dine in nightie at 5:30 to be in bed on time, while the younger girls are still fully clothed.
I've then such early bedtimes since I was a little baby, and mom said I'm today a big baby and I'll have to get into bed as soon as she wants, as long as I'll live with her and my younger sisters. The girl’s bedtime is at 9:00 or 9:30 on weekdays and 11:00 or even midnight on holidays.
My mother was always stricter about me than about my younger sis. When we fought (and still we fight) or when one of my sisters accuse me rightly or unfairly, that's every time me who's punished, put straight to bed for the rest of the day, had (and has) earlier bedtime on weekdays and whole day in bed during weekends and holidays. And that's often so. Besides, sometimes mom spanks me bare bottom (with only my nightie on) in front of my younger sisters (and even some of their young mates) before a corner time and a more or less long time bed confinement.
Mom always put me to bed earlier every time she or my sisters have guests. I've to sleep before they come and in this case mom usually uses medication (syrup or suppositories). I've off course to stay in bed since next morning even when the guests leave early.
When mom goes out, I've to be in bed before she leaves. When she's absent only for a short while, that's rather my sisters who put me to bed and baby-sit me. For a longer length, my babysitter is usually a neighbour (a girl younger than me, without a risk for her because I'm anyway in bed and locked up with baby phone on) or Catherine, a classmate who is also my girlfriend.
Once in bed, at any time, I'm not allowed to read nor listen music or radio, except sometimes when I'm in bed before 3:30 pm (I've next to take a snack then to sleep) because of bad weather outdoors (and for not hampering mom and sisters at home). That's usually Edith and/or Sarah who do me ready to sleep. They close my shutters and curtains, tuck me in, switch my baby monitor which has also a walkie-talkie function), kiss me nite-nite, order me to obey and to sleep immediately, switch my light off, then lock me up.
Punished or not, I'm not allowed to get up once put to bed. Moreover I’m not able to leave my bedroom since I'm shut away nor allowed to get dressed again since I had to leave all my clothes and shoes in the wardrobe before getting into bed. I'd be punished if I forget this. I've a potty in my bedroom and if I need to use it during the daytime, I can call mom, sisters or babysitter by the baby monitor. One of them eventually goes upstairs to let me go to the toilet before to put me again to bed.
"Can you describe your nightclothes in detail?"
I never wear pyjama nor panties, only female or girl nighties with nothing under. They are different depending the season. In summer, they are short and fine, light coloured (pink, blue pastel, white, yellow), most of them without sleeves, often with floral or childish motives. In autumn and winter, they are longer and larger, are in cotton and have sleeves. Some of them were the former ones of mom. Others are gifts from mommy, from my girlfriend and babysitter Catherine (2 years a half younger than me even if in the same class), and even from other classmates.
The one I prefer comes from Catherine’s mother. Its colour is salmon; it's long, almost transparent, with black thin straps. I received its for my 19th anniversary. I had to accompany Catherine, her mother and her younger sister Christine in the lingerie boutique of a friend of Catherine’s mom and mine. I had to undress fully for fitting some baby dolls and nighties. The owner was amused seeing me walking so barefoot and naked under nighties through her shop in front of other amazed female customers. She gives me a well-matched nightcap! During the whole fitting, I was very, very embarrassed but I'd in the same time to refrain my trouble and my excitation. I was happily soon token back home and put straight to bed in the early afternoon by Catherine, after the boutiques owner and her customers wished me an "happy birthday" and a "good night".
I normally wear a fresh nightgown once a week, when I've to get into bed at my usual Sunday bedtime, at the latest in the middle of the afternoon.
I've not other nightclothes when bed punished, but I put my current nightie on when I've to be spanked bare bottom and to have a corner time downstairs in the living room.
Mom wants I have my nightcap on when I've to stay in bed all day as a punishment or by bad weather, especially during winter weekends and Xmas holidays. On cold days, I've then to spend most of the time in bed and, rather than to get up barefoot to go to brush my teeth and occasionally go to the toilet or bring back downstairs my tray after a meal in bed, mommy lends me slippers of her. They are pink with a pompom and have heels.
I feel absolutely comfortable with a nightie on in bed, but at once embarrassed and excited to be seen by everyone, as a near 20 years old boy so undressed, already in bed or ready to go to sleep, at any time in the day, when all the others, even very much younger kids, are still up and fully dressed for hours. Usually, however, I'm already tucked in bed and asleep light off when guests come home, and like this I don't see them when they come by curiosity to glance at me being without a doubt the only for miles around lying so early, daytime, between his sheets, without to be ill nor actually a When confined to bed as a punishment, I've all the time shutters and curtains tightly closed. My bedside lamp has also to stay off constantly, except for eating baby's cereal and to drink sleepy tea or milk from a baby's bottle in bed. That's also sometimes Edith or more often youngest Sarah who spoon-feeds me in bed before her own meal downstairs with the others.
With the baby monitor, mom and my sisters may hear the slightest movement I could make in my bedroom. I'm then not allowed at all to get up for bathing nor for eating. I've a potty near my bed. I can only leave my room after breakfast, lunch and tea time (all eaten in bed, off course) to empty and to rinse out the potty, to go to the toilet and to brush my teeth. I occasionally have myself to bring back downstairs my bowl and my baby's bottle. On the other hand, when I've been punished following a misbehaving towards one of my younger sisters, before having to sleep before 4:00 pm and without dinner, I'm obliged to go downstairs wearing only my nightie and my night cap, then to say her sorry kneeling, in front of mom, my other sis and sometimes also friends of mommy and mates of the girls. After that, they put me back to bed and I've to sleep immediately since next morning.
Even if not as a punishment, when I've been put to bed already in the morning or in the early afternoon for any other reason, I've every time to sleep right after tea time, between 3:30 and 4:00 pm. I'm also locked up and have to eat in bed with a bib tied round my neck. The only change in this case is that I'm the most often (but not always, depending the mood of mom) allowed to keep shutters and curtains open, to read books or comics and to listen radio in bed until snack at tea time. Sometimes, one brings me the same meal as the ones who eat downstairs, instead baby's cereal or puree. I've all the same to drink sleepy milk with a baby's bottle, but never a coffee since I've to sleep earlier and because a stain of coffee on a nightie or on bedclothes is really a serious thing.

Very interesting, can you answer a few details? Are your light nighties made of nylon or polyester, since you mention your winter nighties are cotton? Also can you describe your nightcaps? When you are in bed with the monitor on are you punished if you make noise? Also when your girlfriend Catherine is babysitting is the routine and treatment different from when your sisters babysat? Also can you tell me more about when you have a babysitter? You mentioned that your girlfriend Catherine sometimes puts you to bed when your mom and sister are out. Does she do anything differently, more or less strict, earlier or later to bed? How often are you fed baby type foods instead of regular food? Thanks

I am the mother of a poorly behaved 20-year-old young man. I use a nanny cam to make sure he doesn't get out of bed without permission during his bedtime punishments. He has learned my strap can make him wish he did as he was told.

Early bedtimes were very popular with my mother when I was younger. Most night’s bedtime would be 6-30pm. I would usually arrive home from school about 4-30pm and my mother would bath me and put me in my pyjamas before tea that was usually 5pm. After tea I could watch TV until about 6pm when I would have to go upstairs and get into bed where I could read until about 6-30pm when mother would come and put me down to sleep. Mother used to dress me in very childish 'ski' pyjamas that were the same style as my baby brother. My baby brother would always be put to bed after me at I think about 9pm. Quite often my friends would come to the house to see if I was playing out after tea and mother would tell them no as I was in my pyjamas and ready for bed. Most weekends and holidays I was kept in my pyjamas all day. In the summer I was allowed out to play in the garden but I still had to wear my pyjamas. I was usually brought in and bathed about 4pm and changed into clean pyjamas and ready for bed. Sometimes I was put to bed as early as 4pm on holidays and weekends, early bedtimes continued up till I was a teenager

You say "a teenager". 13? 19?

I think I was about 14 when I was allowed to have a later bedtime.

And what time were you allowed to stay up until then?

I think it was about 8pm, but mother still expected me bathed and in my pyjamas by 7pm.

Please tell us what happened later. When did your mummy stop making you go to bed early? Or does it still happen? After the 8 o'clock bedtime at 14 what was the next stage?

Mummy extended my bedtime to 8-30pm. But if I were naughty I would be put to bed at 7pm and made to wear a footed sleeper which mummy had bought me which was identical to my baby brother.

And do you still have to go to bed at 8.30?

My bedtime is now 9 o'clock. Well, actually, my bath time is 9 and my bedtime is straightaway afterwards so it's about half past by the time Mummy is tucking me in with my teddy bear. I’d love it to be later but she says that it's plenty late enough for me. So I just have to accept what she decides.

If my son misbehaves and I hear it on his baby monitor, I go into his room, turn him bottoms up over a folded up pillow and take my leather strap to his bare bottom.

It has always been part of my disciplinary philosophy to treat adolescent boys (and young adult males) as if they were at least five years younger than their physical age. Girls, in general, mature much quicker and as such it is correct that the male should go to bed sooner and in some cases their sister or sisters should supervise their bedtime. A 16-year-old boy under my supervision would be looking at a bedtime of between 6 and 7p.m with a pyjama time of 4 or 5 p.m. I always advocate dressing boys in their pyjamas 2 hours before bedtime. If a younger sister or sisters are around to witness this then so much the better. This reinforces the boy's immature status in the sibling hierarchy. That is why I put the boys into childish nightwear. When they have to walk around in front of their younger sisters for 2 hours before bedtime wearing little boy pyjamas they quickly lose their aggressive attitudes and respond to discipline much better. If especially sewn little boy pyjamas are beyond your means then a few pairs of female pyjamas from any high street chain store are an acceptable alternative. A 16 year old wearing a pair of teddy bear patterned pyjamas kissing his younger sisters night-night at 6pm is very rewarding in terms of discipline. The girl or girls can be part of the boy’s bedtime routine, perhaps helping select his pyjamas, buttoning up his pyjama top for him and helping to tuck him into bed. Having your 12 year old sister drawing the bedroom curtains on a sunny summer evening at 6p.m as the 16 y.o is put to bed is a good way to involve younger siblings in his education as a well disciplined male.

Good for you Helen That is exactly how boys should be treated. A good bedtime spanking also helps.

Thank you. Over the years I have endeavoured to ensure that the males who have fallen under my patronage come to appreciate their subservient role in regard to the superior female. I have developed the doctrine of pyjama and early bedtime discipline as an excellent way to achieve this. Naturally during my career I have used maternal, over the knee spankings to reinforce my control. However this is a punishment I tend to use sparingly, not least because being put across a matronly lap for a spanking can be surprisingly stimulating for adolescent males. For maximum effectiveness spankings should be delivered in front of several females, I prefer to spank in the presence of ladies from my own circle who understand and appreciate my efforts. This reserves the ultimate humiliation of spanking males in front of younger females as a trump card so to speak. I always begin a spanking with the recipient pyjama clad and then expose the naughty boys bottom for further punishment if the naughtiness warrants. I trust this clarifies my position on bedtime spankings for naughty boys. Incidentally, it is only very recently that one piece; footed pyjamas have been available in the UK. Mainly they appear to be retailed by a very downmarket chain store. As a disciplinary item of bedtime attire for males I can certainly see their potential, however, the actual quality of the material and overall "cheapness" of these items leave a lot to be desired A cosy pair of babyish pyjamas are currently still much more effective as demeaning and humiliating nightwear than high street fads.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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 .”

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.”

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.

"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.

“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,

"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.

 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,”

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.

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

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.

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. "

More victims of maternal spankings.

What a lovely example of frilly pink pyjamas the top picture is. You can envisage that the waiting is the worst.
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.

“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.”

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.

"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.”

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.

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!}