Spanking Aunts

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That's too early! At home I get to stay up until midnight!" "This isn't home with your parents. You will abide by my rules now." "And if I don't?" I thought that nothing could hurt more than the hairbrush, I was wrong. Before she was done, I was already bawling like a baby. I couldn't stop crying, no matter how hard I tried. Then, she stopped. There has been the issue of my garage window, and more importantly, the petulant way you responded to the situation.’ That's all right, Honey," my aunt said when I got to her. "Little babies need to be diapered at night. Nothing at all wrong with that." She patted my diapered bottom. "Just like your little cousin Shannon over there."

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.Ses­sions takeplace inmy study at a pri­vate Vic­to­ri­an cot­tage in Gilling­ham (Med­way inKent). I thought Aunt Lindy was going to cane him there and then but instead she turned to me. “Adam, trousers and pants down, please.” I was really embarrassed at my aunt seeing my willy and tried to cover it up as I slid down my clothes but she laid a light stroke of the cane on the side of my thigh. “Hands by your sides. Nothing I’ve not see before, child.” Then I heard her trot out this little ditty. “Spank a boy and do it right, trousers down, pants up tight. And if he smiles when he should frown, then spank him with his pants right down.” With that, Aunt Pam pulled my jeans down, exposing my underpants. My face was now near to the floor and I remember clearly the smell of the carpet, mixed with tobacco smoke as Doreen lit up a cigarette. Yes – I thought this may be the case…’ There was something enigmatic about her comment, and I didn’t understand. Prices (for pun­ish­ment ses­sions giv­en to a high stan­dard but with­out com­plex addi­tion­al requirements)

I want you to stand in the corner and compose yourself." I complied. It took me half an hour to stop crying and even speak. "Danny, I have here a paddle. I am going to give you 10 swats with this. Then the spanking will be over. If you miss one, or miscount, we will start again. Do you understand?" My mother stripped me down to my underwear to sleep in. Grumbling about it, I began to climb into the crib. Just as I got in, my mother said, "Hold on just a minute." I suppose, strictly speaking, Good Morning is correct , given you are a few moments early’ she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. In the morning, I awoke to find the diaper had become cold and clammy. Now I just wanted out of it. My mother put the crib side down and I jumped out.

Going Deep For You!

This all changed when I was 13. Aunt Pam was a Christian fundamentalist, and in my teens I’d sometimes stay weekends or for a time in school holidays at her lovely house in Amersham, and she became a kind of tutor to me too.

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. I do NOT have a dungeon, whipping benches, St Andrew’s crosses, bondage equipment or the other items associated with dominatrix.It was then that I realized that a wet diaper was something more than cold and clammy. It was heavy. Right, I’m going’ I shouted, and without waiting for a reply, left the house. I crossed the garden, stepped onto the pavement and pushed open the next door gate. I hesitated slightly, and glanced up at the house, which was strangely foreboding. In a moment of decision and commitment, I strode up the path and rang the bell.

She took hold of my chin and looked me in the eye. “You’ve got the face of an angel and hands that are a gift from God. Now let’s see if you’ve got a nice little bottom that the Lord made for spanking, shall we? Take your trousers down!” Think nothing of it, and get those pants down too. Then bend forward over the table and hold the edges as far forward as you can reach. Your reaction is more common than you may realise, and changes nothing at all.’

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I was crying pathetically after just 3 more swats. After what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than five minutes, she asked again. This time I said "Yes." She stood me up and brought me the shirt. Finally, she turned to me, all smiles and said: “Well, Asher, I think we have an understanding now, don’t you? And now you’ve met my little helpers!”