"Auntie Carol!"

By Robert

 

 I shall always remember Auntie Carol with, how shall I put it, mixed emotions! She was several years younger than her sister, my mother, but, having married young, her children Laura, 17, and Timothy, 14, were much the same age as me. They lived a couple of streets away from our house and I had made a habit during my gap year before going up to university to call in and have tea with Carol. Sometimes Laura and Timothy were both there, sometimes just one of them, and sometimes Carol and I had tea on our own. She was less like an aunt to me than, perhaps, an elder sister or cousin. To my naïve 18-year-old imagination our relationship at times verged on the flirtatious and it was always a delight and a pleasure to see her. I am sure she knew the effect she had on my emerging libido and that it mildly amused her. Did I presume too much on our friendship or did she take advantage of my naiveté? But I’m getting ahead of myself, dear reader, let’s go back a few years.

Being an only child I spent a lot of time with my two cousins. They were good company and Auntie Carol put on splendid teas. I always enjoyed my visits and we three were good friends, we played well together and, inevitably, we got into scrapes together. Carol was, I sensed, stricter than my mum and I knew there had been times when I went home to a scolding and they went home to something much more personal! Of course I had been over my mother’s knee! What little boy hadn’t in those days? But smacked bottoms in my house were rare and dramatic events, given with all due ritual and only when really deserved. Carol was more liberal! We three did not discuss these painful things much but I knew that Laura and Timothy were no strangers to the back of Carol’s hairbrush. This knowledge I found disturbing but also strangely exciting! Then came the day I knew, with no possible doubt, that they had been spanked because I was there and when I got home I was spanked too! As I recall it I was 11 at the time so Laura would have been 10 and Timothy 7. This is what happened! The three of us had been out playing in Carol’s beautiful garden and, as will happen with children, things got a bit overheated! We squabbled noisily, we managed to kick the ball with which we had been playing over into next door’s garden, we smashed some of Carol’s carefully tended plants. We were having a lovely time and behaving very, very badly! Carol came out and ordered us all inside. She proceeded to give us a severe telling off about our behavior and made us all feel very small. Apologies were not listened to. Carol was past listening to apologies. She took Timothy by the arm and dragged him protesting to a chair. He guessed before I did what was about to happen and squealed in alarm! In a flash she had his trousers round his ankles and, watched by Laura and me, he was hoisted across Carol’s lap. As an only child I had never seen anyone having their bottom smacked and I watched with a bashful eagerness. He lay there looking shocked and terrified as she unceremoniously pulled his pants down and began to give him a brisk spanking on his bare bottom! How he howled, I was horribly fascinated, excited as I gazed at poor Tim’s bare bottom! His body jerked and twitched with each stinging smack, his bottom bounced and flinched as it rapidly turned a fine shade of red and he howled and sobbed bitterly. I was excited and scared! Auntie Carol dumped him on the floor where he lay in floods of tears. Carol called “Now you young lady!” Laura protested loudly, I sensed she was really shocked at the turn of events and backed away refusing to go for her spanking. Carol rose to her feet and walked over to the cowering girl. Taking her by the arm she turned her, bent her under her arm, lifted her skirt and whacked her on the seat of her knickers. Laura was looking at me from only inches away as she was given a dozen or so smacks! Having given her something to think about Carol then proceeded to drag Laura to the chair and to hoist her into place across her lap! Laura lay still now, trying not to see me watching, as Carol lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers down! I could not take my eyes off her bottom! It was the first time I had ever seen a girl’s bottom all slim and round and peachy. I felt guilty but could not take my eyes off it. Her curves were blotched from the slaps she had already been given but now poor Laura received as sound a smacking as had Timothy. Brave girl, she didn’t cry. When she was put down she fled from the room hitching up her knickers as she went. I heard her running upstairs to her room where she burst into tears of shame and humiliation at having been spanked in front of me, a boy.

I stood trembling waiting for my turn! “And as for you, young man” I gasped! I was ready for it! I was almost disappointed when she said “You can go home” and she ushered me silently out of the door. I walked home in a pensive mood. I was not very proud of my conduct and somewhat disturbed at what I had just witnessed. I knew what to expect when I arrived home. My mother told me Carol had telephoned her. She told me I was to have my bare bottom smacked and sent me upstairs to wait for my punishment. I had plenty to think about how it was going to feel! After a while she came to me, took my trousers down, put me over her knee and smacked my bare bottom soundly! I lay, quite still, well, maybe I kicked a bit but wouldn’t you if you were being spanked? I did not resist as I lay across her knee feeling my bottom smarting from her well placed smacks. I was overcome by strange almost wistful feelings. I wondered as I lay there how it would feel to be over Carol’s lap with her hand spanking me. You’re shocked? Well, it’s true I wished it was my strict aunt smacking my bare bottom! I wanted my strict aunt to smack me, there, I admit it, even as mother’s hand smacked away at my reddening cheeks I wished I was over Carol’s lap!

But as the years rolled by I was very seldom spanked. Mother’s knee became less and less a threat. On the few occasions when mother did smack my bottom I took my punishment well lying still and offering her my bottom without protest. But these smackings left me with a deep feeling of embarrassment and even shame. There are, I understand, chaps who get a thrill out of remembering their mother smacking their bottoms. Not me. I was not in any way excited by the memory of mother’s knee and my sore bottom. I did not resent her smackings, I expect I deserved them and, I suppose, it “did me good” as they say. So far as I could see it was something my mother felt to be necessary and I bore her no ill feelings. She was always fair, always explained carefully what she was about to do and why. By the way, mother’s spankings, even her hand spankings, hurt my bottom badly, they were no easy option! Smacked bottoms were, for me, a part of growing up which I accepted with as much sang froid as a boy with his trousers down can be expected to muster but I was happy when I was big enough to guess I had had my very last maternal smack bottom!

Although mother’s discipline was behind me, is that a Freudian slip?, I found myself dwelling more and more on that summer’s afternoon when I had watched Auntie Carol spank my two cousins. The memory fascinated and tortured me and thinking of Carol’s hand slapping Laura’s bare bottom gave me a guilty sexual thrill! It was not just the sight of a naughty girl’s bottom which troubled me, it was the sight of Auntie Carol as she held Laura down and smacked her. Excited as I had been by the sight of Laura over her knee I found myself wondering how it would have felt had it been my bottom she was smacking. I could not stop thinking about her and, as I continued to visit their house, I knew that on at least another couple of occasions she had given them both a sound spanking. My pretty cousin was getting older now and the thought of her over Carol’s knee with her knickers down was even more thrilling. What was happening to me? Was this fascination with smacked bottoms normal? Did anyone else feel the way I felt about this most intimate form of punishment? I was worried but could not stop myself thinking about strict Auntie Carol and her strong right arm and how her hand would feel! I tried not to recognize my urgent wish but there was no denying it. I wanted Carol to smack my bottom!

The intimacy of my friendship with my aunt deepened and I came to relish those visits when my cousins were not at home and I had Carol to myself. I like to think she enjoyed it too, well I know she did. Carol showed a great interest in me and my activities, she seemed amused by episodes of ‘laddish’ behavior with which I regaled her from time to time. She would some times send a thrill down my spine by saying something threatening! Something such as “If you were my son I’d have you over my knee for that!” and I never really knew whether she was serious. That was the thrill! The threat of a smacked bottom which was not entirely flirtatious. It made me tremble, never more so than when she said, “I’ve half a mind to take your trousers down and smack your bottom for you!” Hearing those words, words which I admit to having fantasized about ever since my last spanking as boy, sent my pulse racing.. The warmth and intimacy of our relationship pleased me, of course, but I also felt I was getting out of my depth. I no longer knew for certain whether she was joking or serious. She excited me as an aunt should not excite her nephew but she worried me as well. I was too inexperienced with the ways of women to understand what she wanted from me. Auntie Carol was becoming a tantalizing enigma. I could not get enough of her and, despite my naiveté, I sensed that she, too, needed our increasingly illicit friendship. It was thrilling, exciting, fulfilling and desperately frustrating as well. Something had to happen! Something had to release the pent up desire, the erotic need which was now always in my fevered thoughts. I now knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wanted Carol to treat me like a naughty little boy and smack my bare bottom over her knee! What I did not know, could not with my lack of experience even dare to hope, was that Auntie Carol, naughty lady that she was, wanted exactly the same thing. She wanted to have my trousers down, wanted to have me laid across her knee, and she wanted to smack my bottom!

Soon we would have our wish!

I called on Carol one afternoon as usual during my gap year and while we took tea I was telling her about my latest exploits, telling her, as my friend, about some mischief my pals and I had been up to. We were alone at the time and she teased me as she had done before by telling me if I were her son she’d take my trousers down! I blushed! Her eyes were bright and excited as she added quite explicitly, “You’re not too big for a good smack bottom, you know”. The atmosphere was electric, there was a sexual charge between us, my bottom tensed, my heart pounded. It was so very close to happening, I am sure of that, when we were interrupted by the arrival of Laura and Timothy. I resented their arrival and so, I sensed, did she but there was nothing for it but to accept that the moment had passed!.

During tea there was a clash between Timothy and his mother. I do not recall how it came about but she exploded! “I will not be spoken to like that! Do you hear me, I will not have it!” He tried to apologies but to no avail. “Go and fetch my hairbrush” she snapped. “I’m going to give you a good smack bottom here and now. Off you go, go on. Fetch my hairbrush!” The poor boy protested, begged, pleaded but to no avail. He slunk out of the room and returned shortly holding a hard backed wooden hairbrush. “Take down your trousers!” “Mother, please!” he wailed. “Timothy!” Her tone brooked no argument and, with Laura and me watching, the wretched boy undid his trousers and let them fall. He knew what to do! He placed himself across her knee, my heart was pounding in my chest as I watched! Carol was calmer now. She carefully folded his shirttail clear and with a swift movement pulled his pants down!

Timothy lay over his mother’s knee, bare bottomed, with his head resting on his arms on the settee. “Now then” she said “We’ll see if this teaches you to mind your manners” and she proceeded to give him a sound smacking! He jerked and twisted across her lap but she had him held firmly in place and smacked, smacked and smacked his reddening bottom until he begged for mercy. Then she smacked him some more. I was panting with excitement as my cousin took the thrashing of his life! He did not deserve the punishment she gave him, nothing he had said warranted a public thrashing like that! He was 14, he was far too old for that humiliating spanking. When, at last, it was over she said “Now go to your room!” and he fled, trousers in his hand and with his bare bottom on display, out of the room. Carol sat with a gleam in her eye! She was fulfilled! There was an awkward silence, I did not know what to do. Laura made her excuses, clearly deeply embarrassed, and left the room.

Carol and I were alone together. “I’m sorry about that” she said. “Next time, maybe, eh?” and, with a shiver, I knew what she meant! “Yes, please, auntie!” Auntie Carol slapped my bottom playfully! “Go on, off you go”

I wish I could recall precisely how we managed it but on my next visit my bottom was smacked!

Some little disagreement led to me addressing her in a rude, offhand manner. She reacted! She caught me off balance as it were. This was not scripted, not stage managed. All my erotic spanking fantasies came true as I heard her say “You are not too big to go across my knee, young man, and if you use that tone of voice with me again that it precisely where you’ll go. With your trousers down too.”

I looked at her in shock and delight! This was the moment, make or break, when my adolescent dream became reality. I sneered. “You wouldn’t! I’m not some little boy, you know.”

“Come here” it was cold, firm and clear.

“I’m sorry, auntie, I didn’t mean it.” I was not play acting! I was scared of her.

“I said come here! Now do as you’re told young man. You’ve been asking for this! It’s high time you had your bottom smacked. Now come here – and take your trousers down!”

Valhallah!

Half in fear half in high excitement I knew my moment had come. I stepped over to her playing the part of the naughty boy obeying she who was about to smack him,

“That’s better! Now, trousers down. Quickly! I’m waiting.”

Flustered and eager not to annoy her further I found myself at 18 years of age standing in her suburban sitting room taking my trousers down. It was really happening! Too late now to decide I didn’t want to play this game. I dropped my trousers and I pulled my pants down too.

“There’s a sensible boy.” Carol patted her lap. “Come along, let me get at you! Over my knee with you/”

“Yes, auntie!”

Auntie Carol was sitting on a low settee with her skirt riding up and her nylon clad thighs well displayed. She looked at me and smiled enigmatically. She whacked her hairbrush into her hand with a crack that made me flinch!

“Well, come along. Across my knee with you. You naughty little boy!”

This was the moment I had fantasized about over the years. I had wished myself into the delicious surrender of lying across Carol’s luscious lap often enough – but that was fantasy! Her tone of voice told me this was real! She was going to smack my bottom! This was no game!

“Now, let’s have no more of your nonsense!” and with a slap on my bottom which made me gasp she pulled me to her and I was there! I was across Auntie Carol’s lap!

“That’s better” she said! “I will not tolerate defiance, young man!” and WHACK! I gasped as she slapped my bottom with her hairbrush! “Do you understand? I will not tolerate defiance”

WHACK!

“Yes, auntie” I gasped “Yes!” My bottom throbbed warmly!

“Very well! Now, I have spoken to you many times about your recent behavior. Haven’t I?”

“Yes, auntie!”

“And I told you you needed your bottom smacking, didn’t I?”

“Yes, auntie!” I gasped ! The tension was getting to me. Get on with it if you are going to!

“Yes, auntie” she repeated “Well, I’m not prepared to tell you about this any more. Any more! This time you will be punished, do you understand, punished severely!”

“Yes, auntie!!!!”

It was not too late, there was nothing to stop me even now from getting off her lap with as much dignity as I could manage, pulling up my trousers and going home! After all I was a young man of some 18 summers not her naughty little boy. But I did not! I knew I wanted to lie there, clutching the cushion tightly with both hands and with my face buried in its soft fabric. I found myself lifting my bottom for her. She must have known I wanted, wanted desperately, to feel her smacks as I lay across her thighs, warm and female against my eager manhood! I was scared and excited, I was submissive and eager to surrender to her. I was highly aroused and she cannot help but to have been aware I pressed down against her legs! Oh, the waiting, the anticipation the torment of the way she was treating me! I wanted my bottom smacked! “Smack me!” I wanted to shout “Smack my bottom!”

“Now” said Auntie Carol

She began to smack me. She was so skilled, so skilled. Her smacks were not the savage beating she had so recently given Timothy, no, they were deliciously brisk against my bottom but they were not savage. As I lay there, the exciting sting in my buttocks increased and intensified as she methodically smacked and smacked and smacked all over both cheeks. It began to hurt! I heard myself grunt with each stroke. I twitched and squirmed across her lap, the delicious feel of her thighs contrasting with the increasing discomfort in my bottom. I began to yelp out loud as the discomfort became pain and the pain grew as each successive smack landed on parts of my bottom that had already received many, many smacks. Both cheeks throbbed and I howled as she increased the intensity of her smacking. I had never imagined it would feel like this! Never again, never again!

“I’m sorry, auntie “ I wailed and, old as I was, I burst into tears! Auntie Carol continued to smack my bottom as I lay slumped and unresisting across her knee! Then she stopped! As I lay sobbing across her lap I made no protest, no plea. I was hers to do with as she wished. The air felt cool on my throbbing bottom. I expected with dread a resumption of the smacking but then I felt something quite different! I felt the soft kiss of her full lips first on the right cheek and then on the left as her long hair fell over the curves of my bottom! Auntie Carol eased my pants back up and gave my battered bottom an affectionate pat.

I crawled off her lap and I stood before her

“In the corner with you and pull those pants down so that I can see your fine bottom! No! Don’t touch it! Stand there till I tell you and think about your behavior.”



Later we had tea, I relished the warm ‘afterglow’ in my buttocks as I sat there. We discussed our afternoon!

“Was that what you wanted? Was I too strict?”

“It was wonderful, auntie” I said dreamily. “Wonderful!”

As we made our way to her front door she gave me a not entirely aunt-like hug!

“Will you be coming back?” she asked.

I tenderly rubbed my still tingling bottom!

“Oh, yes, auntie, if you’ll have me?”

..and I’ve been coming back now for many, many years!

 

 
 
 
 

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