Spanked by Her Aunt Sally

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WHAT!?" I stared at it in disbelief! "No way! I'm NOT sleeping in a crib! I'm SEVEN!!" I stated, crossing my arms. As far as I was concerned, this argument was over. They'd just have to put me somewhere else! All of my spankings were done on the bare bum. For 90% of them, Gram would undo my pants and take them down and then my underwear was pulled down separately. All the way to the ankles. For the remainder of them, the most common alternative was to be told "Go to your room, take your pants and underwear down and have your bare bottom in the corner when I come to spank you."

My first from Kate – Maman: spanking memories: mothers My first from Kate – Maman: spanking memories: mothers

My aunt brought my cousin Shannon into the room to change her out of her diapers, and get her dressed for the day. Shannon looked at me when they entered. "Baby!" she said excitedly. At home, mom spanked me full naked, always with a prolonged lecture first. Sometimes, I would undress myself, other times mom would assist. In public settings, such as restrooms, I would only have my pants and shorts lowered to the knees. They were afforded no modesty whatsoever and would have to sit half naked on that kitchen chair, sometimes with several other relatives nearby. I could see they were humiliated by it and tried their best to cover themselves with their hands. I could also see how much pain they were in and as old as my male cousin was, he still openly cried when he was beaten. Well, queue time lapse blur and here we are many, many moons later. We’ve evolved into a mutually and consensual agreement where she will give me a real domestic discipline spanking for offenses we’ve both deemed spank-able offenses. While I will get a punishment spanking on occasion (about monthly), I get taken to the “woodshed” about 3 or 4 times a year. Getting taken to the woodshed has become the name for getting THE (or one of the) worst spankings of my life. Our bedroom transforms into “the woodshed” for this type of spanking. And while she used to use just the razor strap, she then changed the protocol to be a belt spanking first (with her meanest belt), immediately followed by a razor strapping. There is no safeword during these spankings (although I imagine if I did say my safeword, she’d probably stop. BUT…that wouldn’t be a real spanking then, would it? 🤔 Besides, I agreed to be held accountable in this way and am man enough to take what she has deemed necessary by way of corporal punishment. Even if it means her reducing me to tears sometimes.) Don't have an account? Register in under one minute and get your own agony aunt column - recommended!

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What you’re going through is pretty normal amongst people your age - not dirty or shameful, it’s called puberty and it can come in all kinds of strange forms and at the weirdest of times. Try not to read into it too much or let it shape your thinking around sex. You won’t really know what you like till you’re older. In the mean time, if you enjoy having your bottom strapped then just enjoy it when it happens. But don’t bother to tell your mum you were turned on by your punishment or she’ll probably be the one whose ‘weirded out’ lol I was 12 when I was sent to spend part of the summer at my uncle and aunt’s house in rural Queensland, Australia. I was a city boy, born and bred and in Brisbane, and my parents were typical of the 1980s progressive Aussie middle class of the time. Consequently we have given her permission to administer a punishment like the ones at her school, and she has agreed to do this as a favour to us. Not only will you go and apologise, but you will talk to her, listen to her, answer her questions, and accept any punishment she decides you need.’

In front of everyone – Maman: spanking memories: mothers

We saw my Uncle Harold that day. Only time I ever saw the old man, he died when I was 13. He took an instant liking to me though. He didn't like anyone, that old man, but he liked me. My brother and sister were jealous when Uncle Harold gave me a brand new Baseball. It was so big to me at the time...I couldn't even hold it right in my hand. My mom and dad had very different baring styles. My dad would undress me as he was scolding and lecturing and then spank after he had removed all clothing. Baring our behinds for an over the knee hand spanking was always done by our parents. Only by dad after we were 10 or so and it continued that way well into high school. Dad was a high school and college football player and even at 17 he had no problem taking down our pants and underwear and taking us over his lap for a tanning. I waited, and finally she walked in with her pink slipper. She told me she was going to give me a hard spanking. This excited me – a 14-year-old boy about to get spanked by my pretty aunt. I hadn’t really been spanked before that, as far as I can remember.When I was younger and misbehaved I was spanked by either of my parents whoever were home at the time. It was always the same ritual for me. First I would have to strip to just my underpants then stand in front of either my mum or my dad while they scolded me and lectured me on why I was going to be spanked then my underpants were pulled right down for me where I was then told to go over the knee for a very hard spanking This sounds pretty normal really, like others have said a lot of people are turned on by being spanked. You'll probably enjoy it more as you grow up. Expression (Optional mood/title along with your name) Examples: (happy, sad, The Joyful, etc.) help) Daddy was out of arguments. My Aunt had an extra room, my brother would stay with Uncle Harold. I claimed I should be the one to stay with Uncle Harold, but they believed my brother should because he was older and could get along without Mom.

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My brother sat at the table and talked with the men. I don't think he enjoyed it much. It didn't LOOK like much fun, just sitting there and talking. He would have had more fun playing marbles with us. But, that's what you gotta do when you grow up, I guess. I suppose, strictly speaking, Good Morning is correct , given you are a few moments early’ she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. My Aunt smiled and said, "Yes dear, that's a little baby who still needs to wear diapers all day. But since you are a big girl, you get to wear training panties during the day." There was a long pause. I could feel the beating of my own heart. Though I was confident that she wouldn't spank me, I was still a little uncertain. Aunt Christine's face seemed to be fraught with indecision. It seemed to make a decision. She started walking towards me. It wasn't a normal walk though. It seemed very deliberate. My mind told me to run from her. To get away, she wasn't bluffing at all! I tried to run, but my feat were frozen. I was paralyzed with fear. The fear of what she would do. When she reached me, she grabbed my ear, by the lobe. She started to pull me towards the door. Still, scared, I couldn't manage to move my feet. Suddenly, she gave me a sharp swat on my rear. That got me moving. As she marched me up the stairs, she started lecturing me.

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Generally, the amount of baring I'd have to endure wasn't announced ahead of time. Sometimes I'd know just because of the severity of what I'd done, but sometimes not.

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Room to let for clean tidy boy, non smoker, must be new student of the university, correct candidate will enjoy welcoming home of experienced landlady When I was getting spanked before age 10 or 11, it was always over the knee and jeans and underpants were pulled down by Mom or Dad, if they were spanking one of us on the spot. There were some times when I was already undressed to my underwear and those got yanked down to my ankles before I went over a knee for a spanking. I remember getting yanked out of the bathtub once when I was in elementary school for splashing water out of the tub when my Mom had already told me not to. Nothing to yank down then. Just got pulled out of the tub while my mom sat on the edge of the tub and spanked my bare bottom. Aunt Greta used a strap that I later found out was a razor strop from my uncle’s barber shop. I’m not sure but I think my male cousin was 15 and the two girls 14 and 12, or thereabouts. The first few times they were punished, mother made me leave the room and I only heard their cries. My uncle would strap them sometimes but it was mostly my aunt who beat them. The next thing I knew, Aunt Pam was holding my arms firmly so I couldn’t move, and Doreen was unzipping my jeans. Then I was pulled across Pam’s knee in a daze.For me it was almost always bare bottom.There was some discussion of what I did wrong. Then I would have to hold my shirt up, which kept my hands occupied and gave my dad access to unfasten my pants and take them down, sometimes to my ankles and sometimes all the way off. My underwear followed. Then, with me still having to hold my shirt up, which was more embarrassing when I reached my teens, there would be some more discussion/scolding and I'd go over his knees. She continued with the belt. I didn't think I cold take any more. I was beyond crying. I didn't have the strength to. Soon she stopped. She stood me up. The swats of the hairbrush were indescribable. I never felt anything like it in my life. It hurt very much. I knew I couldn't do anything about it either. I felt helpless. After about a minute or two, I started to cry. I promised to do anything, just as long as the spanking would stop. The spanking stopped. There were a few moments of total silence, as though the world had stopped. Then movement from inside, a figure on the other side of the stained glass, and the door opened. We looked at each other for a moment, before she nodded and stood to one side, opening the door more widely to let me come in. Aunt Christine?" I ventured. She looked down at me (I was only 5'3), paused and said in a friendly tone