Conversation Leads to Really
HOT Spanking & Enema Adventure!
Just one of many marvelous,
illustrated letters featured in RCR #5
a 32 year-old male & avid fan of your female-spanks-male publications, but my very
favorite is Red Cheek Recollections. It excites me to know that I wasn't the only
boy with an old-fashioned upbringing & always reminds me of my own boyhood spanking,
rectal temperature taking & enema experiences. Here's mine...
all started for me when I was 9 & happened to walk into the family room at just the
right time to overhear my mother & her elder sister reminiscing about their childhood.
They were in the kitchen & didn't notice me, & I didn't much care to hear any more
of their boring stories until the words "bare bottom spanking" & a burst of
giggles suddenly caught my attention.
only been swatted or threatened to that point in my life, & wasn't aroused by
spanking. But I was as curious about nudity & other such naughty things as the next
little boy. As I craned my ears to listen, I could tell from the tone of the voices that
my mom & aunt were somewhat excited by the adventures they'd had acting as
disciplinarians to my 2 uncles, who I'll call Ben & Jerry.
Cynthia is the eldest of four, my mom was next in age & my uncles brought up the
rear... And were brought up having their rears routinely spanked from what I heard.
Apparently, Aunt Cynthia was a real no-nonsense girl & my mom was her right hand gal.
Hearing them snicker about how they kept my 2 big, strapping uncles in line when they boys
was kind of fun & sexy, so I paid close attention & got more excited as they
swapped snatches of memories of a day long before I was born, but one that became
important to me because of what hearing about it eventually led to.
when my uncle Ben was 8, he got into the family's candy stash & pigged out until his
tummy turned on him & started to ache. Eventually, he went to seek help in the kitchen
where my aunt & mom were doing chores & compounded his crime by lying when Aunt
Cynthia asked him if he'd eaten something he shouldn't have. My aunt & mom, who would
have been 16 & 13 at the time, laughed about what a lousy liar little Ben was, &
went on to giggle over the details of how Aunt Cynthia decided to cure & punish her
little brother at the same time.
mom recalled trailing along as Aunt Cynthia took Uncle Ben to the bathroom & watching
her take down his pants & try to put the family's rectal thermometer to use. I could
hear the admiring smirks in both their voices as they reminisced about what a "cute
little cock" my uncle had & how he'd wiggled so much over Aunt Cynthia's knee
that she'd been unable to spread his "cute little buns" & insert the
thermometer in his "adorable little asshole."
don't claim to remember the exact descriptions my mom & Aunt used that day, but I do
know they were very complementary &, for me, kind of titillating. On various occasions
when I was younger & feverish, I had my temp taken rectally, usually by mom but a few
times by Aunt Cynthia when I was staying with her as I did 2 weeks each Summer. I really
hadn't thought anything of it either way before, but if these 2 women that I admired so
much had so admired my uncle's little boy anatomy, wouldn't they have secretly admired
mine, too? I assumed so. And was very pleased about it!
the sexiness of the stage set & the naughtiness I felt about eavesdropping, which I
knew was wrong, I suppose it makes perfect sense that every fondly recalled anecdote I
overheard from then on seemed new & exciting. Even the way my mom & aunt described
how my Uncle Ben had been spanked until he was crying like a baby & totally obedient
to having his "bright red buns" spread for the thermometer sounded great.
too did the way my mom & aunt giggled over their recollections of the enema that Aunt
Cynthia decided my uncle needed to clean him out. Thinking they were having a private
conversation, neither sister tried to hide their naughty pleasure as they tittered about
how my uncle Ben's gasps, coital gyrations & stiffening little cock belied his
protests as Aunt Cynthia lubed him with her finger, inserted the enema nozzle in his
rectum, & administered a "long, slow, soapy enema."
way my aunt & mom talked about what happened that day made me feel like I was privy to
a sexy conspiracy, which is about what it was. I realize now that they were using the
memory as an exciting sisterly anecdote & that it wasn't as monumental to them as it
seemed. But, at the time & in my boyish state of excitement, I only tuned in on the
pleasure in their voices & got more & more turned on.
to what they said, my uncle admitted to feeling better after he relieved himself & was
cleaned up by his sisters. He also admitted to deserving a spanking for lying & being
a bad boy, & was taken to his bedroom where Aunt Cynthia described sitting down on her
brother's bed, scolding him, turning him over her knee &, according to my mom,
hand spanking him until she really "turned his cute little heinie bright red!"
letters are dandy,
& photos &
art are eye candy.
sometimes, you've just gotta
see it to believe it...
beg, sniffle &, sometimes, bawl like
bad little kids
when they're scolded, stripped &
oh-sooo SOUNDLY SPANKED
by a diehard devotee of
acts of D/s ever invented by man or woman kind!
SEE for yourself
in one of Scarlett Hill Studio's real spanker, real raw reaction
& required psychodramas
YOU WILL BELIEVE!
AND NOW YOU CAN,
aunt laughingly confirmed my mom's observation & added that Uncle Ben had learned his
lesson & never repeated that crime. Then she ended the tale by saying that it hadn't
turned him into an angel either. My mom agreed with a chuckle & said she could say
that again, which told me the story I'd overheard was not the last time my uncle had been
punished by my aunt. But it was the last I heard about it because my mom got up for coffee
or something & I decided to high tail it back to my room.
I recalled every descriptive word I'd overheard & got more excited as I played with
myself & imagined going through what my uncle had endured. Since I had no concept of
the downside to any of it, I felt nothing but pleasure as I reached down & worked a
finger around & up a bit inside my bottom. It felt weird but good &, not
surprisingly, my erotic fantasies from that day on centered around my Aunt Cynthia doing
everything to me that she'd done to my uncle when he'd been a boy.
sure everyone reading this will understand my instant preoccupation & why, a few
months later when my annual trip to Aunt Cynthia's was in the offing, I formulated a plan
& couldn't wait to see if it would work. Aunt Cynthia had a grove of apple trees
behind her house & I'd grown up being warned about eating green apples. I'd been told
they made your tummy hurt & believed it enough to avoid eating more than one or two.
But that would change this year because I planned to eat a lot!
know I could've just made up a tummy ache or pretended to eat more green apples than I
eventually did, but the way Aunt Cynthia had said she knew my unclen was lying had
convinced me that I had to play it straight. Thinking about getting spanked & flushed
out was exciting to me, but the thought of being found out was not. I'd had a birthday in
May so I was 10, but even at that young age I knew what I was feeling & planning to do
was weird & wrong.
Cynthia & I always got along great. A medical problem had left her barren & she
treated me like one of the kids she wanted but couldn't have. She'd explained that to me
in a simple way which made me sad. But I was glad to make her happy & even gladder
when I was out playing in her yard the very first day of my visit & she reminded me
not to eat the apples from her trees.
weren't ripe enough yet & I'd get a tummy ache if I ate them, she said, which is
exactly what I wanted. But, as excited as I was to try out my plan, I was too shy to
follow through. Each day I'd look at the apples & try to psyche myself into stuffing
them in my face. And each night I'd lie in bed, fantasize, & berate myself for being
such a little coward.
during the second week of my stay, desire won out & I got up one morning determined to
go for it that day. I worked my over to the apple grove just before lunch &, before I
knew it, had eaten 3 or 4 apples. That's when Aunt Cynthia came out to call me in for
lunch & saw me take another big bite.
plan didn't call for Aunt Cynthia to see me eat the apples, but it worked out better that
way. Her yell startled me so much that I dropped the apple & stood there like the
caught red-handed naughty boy I was as she stalked her way out to me & looked down at
the apple cores littering the ground by my feet with horror in her eyes.
have you done, you naughty boy!?!" Aunt Cynthia exclaimed. Then she scolded me like
never before. I don't recall what she said or how long it lasted, but I vividly remember
her calling me a "naughty boy" repeatedly & that it ended with her grabbing
my arm & pulling me back to the house. On the way, I recall feeling a strange mix of
wonder, excitement & fear build with each step.
Aunt Cynthia going to spank me? She threatened to a time or two when I stayed with her,
but never had to carry through since I heeded her warnings & was generally
well-behaved & obedient the rest of the time. I guess I should have said sooner that
I'd snuck a look through the main bathroom & found the enema bag & thermometer I
was looking for. But since I didn't have time to get a tummy ache, I wondered if they
would be put to use?
I got a couple of hints about the answer to my first
question as soon as we got to the house. Aunt Cynthia held the kitchen door open for me
& gave my bottom a sharp smack as I went through. She followed me inside & ordered
me to sit down at the table, "while I could." That remark really made my tummy
do flip-flops. My bottom burned where she'd swatted me, & suddenly the thought of Aunt
Cynthia seriously slapping at it over & over seemed horrible & frightening indeed!
My aunt joined me at the table & began grilling me
like the dumb, guilty kid I was & most definitely felt like. Hadn't I been told a
thousand times NOT to eat green apples? Hadn't I been told why? Hadn't I been thinking
when I decided to do it anyway? Hadn't I... Didn't I... How could I...
All I really remember about that talking to from my aunt
was how one-sided it was & how it ended. I imagine most of my responses were dumb
"I don't knows" since I couldn't very well tell Aunt Cynthia the truth, which
was: "I did it on purpose so you'd give me a spanking & an enema! But I've
changed my mind now & will NEVER eat a green apple again."
No, all I could do was sit there & be scolded until
Aunt Cynthia summed up her lecture with the one question I do remember her asking, &
that was, "Didn't I think I deserved a good spanking for being so naughty &
I was so stunned that I actually looked at my aunt for
the first time since we'd sat down. I could see she thought so, but I never expected her
to drop THAT decision into my little lap! Fear & shame made me want to blurt out,
"No!" The part of me that fantasized about & planned out my punishment
scenario shouted for me to say yes & get what I'd wanted since I'd eavesdropped on my
mom & aunt. But I couldn't make up my mind.
"Well?" Aunt Cynthia finally prompted. Then she
put it in a way that sort of made the choice for me. "Are you big enough to admit you
were bad & mature enough to accept the punishment you deserve?"
10-year-old boys always want to be bigger & more
mature, don't they? I know I did. The irony of proving that by agreeing that I deserved to
be spanked like a little boy didn't occur to me at the time. I only knew that I wanted
Aunt Cynthia to be proud of me. Speech was a reach, so I nodded my head. Aunt Cynthia made
some pleased, encouraging comment. Then she pushed her chair back from the table &
told me to come to her.
Having Aunt Cynthia admire my cute little boy anatomy
like she had Uncle Ben's was a big part of my fantasies. But I didn't feel the warm, sexy
feelings I envisioned when she pulled me between her legs & started pulling down my
shorts & undies. Instead, I felt frightened & so ashamed that I babbled out a
string of protests & tried to stop her.
Aunt Cynthia used the time honored line about spankings
having to be on bare bottoms & slapped my hands away. I'll never be able to forget how
shamed I felt when the woman of my fantasies yanked down my shorts & my cock sprang
free. Even all these years later I can see it like a movie in my mind. Aunt Cynthia was
seated, I was pinned between her thighs, & my crotch was just about even with her
breasts so it was impossible for her NOT to get an eyeful whether she wanted to look or
Aunt Cynthia didn't dwell on my display before she
scooped me up & deposited me over her knee. But she didn't look away either, which
caused my little cock to stiffen in spite of the doubt & fear I felt as I lay bare
bottom up over her lap. Having never been spanked, I didn't have the capacity to imagine
what a real spanking would feel like beyond the little I'd heard about Uncle Ben's
spanking & my fantasies, which included "crying like a baby" over Aunt
Cynthia's knee like he did but no real pain.
I recall feeling Aunt Cynthia's warm thigh brushing
against my fearless cock as I hung over her knees. But before I become more aroused by it,
her big hand started slapping my little bottom. The first two or three spanks didn't hurt
right away, but they caught up fast & then I felt full force of the intense,
underlying, burning pain that seemed to grow in leaps & bounds with each spank until I
had to scream & cry as hard as I could.
Aunt Cynthia didn't stop spanking me when I burst into
tears, & I remember thinking how silly I'd been, how afraid I was that she'd never
stop, & all those other things naughty boys seem to think of when they're really
getting spanked, not fantasizing about it.
I don't remember much else once I gave in & began
bawling with all my heart & soul, which wasn't all that far into the spanking if my
memory is correct. I don't know how long Aunt Cynthia held me over her knee & slapped
sobs out of me, & I can't even say how I got off of her knee or how long I hopped
around the kitchen rubbing my rump before I regained my senses.
All I can say is that I was one very sorry little boy
when I returned from the vacuum of tears & suffering & saw my aunt calmly watching
me. I know I babbled apologies & pleas for her never to spank me that hard again, but
she wasn't sympathetic at all. She sternly asked if my tummy hurt yet, & I honestly
told her that all I could feel was my hot, hurting heinie.
Aunt Cynthia seemed pleased by that news, but said a
little preventative medicine was in order. She told me to pull up my pants & come with
her, then led the way to the main bathroom where she stripped me to my birthday suit &
administered the very first enema of my young life.
I don't want this too run on too long for you to use, so
I'll spare you my every feeling & just say that Aunt Cynthia once again showed me how
naive & unprepared I was. She didn't take my temperature since I didn't have a fever,
but being stripped bare & having my bottom cheeks pulled apart so she could stick her
Vaseline covered little finger up my bottom was much, much more shameful & arousing
than I'd imagined.
My cock sprang back to life & I know Aunt Cynthia
felt it because it was pressed against her warm, bare thigh, but she didn't say a word
about it or let it slow her down at all. She also didn't say anything when I couldn't stop
myself from moaning & thrusting my crotch against her lap as the warm water gently
filled me up to the brim.
I actually came twice during the enema, but since I was
too young to ejaculate, I don't think Aunt Cynthia knew for sure. If she did, she never
said a word about it to me or anyone as far as I know, & she also never broke her
promise to me later that day when she tucked me into bed & I asked her to keep my
naughtiness & punishment our little secret.
When the enema was through, Aunt Cynthia made me hold it
inside & used her finger to plug my hole when I said I couldn't. She scolded me for
what I'd done & told me I'd better be a good boy for the rest of my stay while I
squirmed & gasped. She kept her finger inside me when she finally stood us up &
moved me over the toilet, where she removed her finger & let the enema come shooting
back out in what seemed like endlessly loud splashing waves.
Aunt Cynthia decided to let me wash myself & left me
alone to do it, but warned to do a good job or risk an additional spanking before she
tucked me into bed. I'd forgotten about the second spanking by then & tried to plead
for mercy, but Aunt Cynthia just said I had 5 minutes, closed the bathroom door & left
I cleaned myself up really well & wondered if I
should put my clothes back on, but Aunt Cynthia was back before I could decide. She
checked to make sure I'd done a good cleaning job, then led me to my bedroom & put me
back over her knee.
My bottom was still sore from the previous spanking, but
Aunt Cynthia ignored my attempts to talk her out of another one, & proceeded to slap
my seat until I was bawling like a baby again. That spanking wasn't as long or hard as the
first, but it didn't need to be.
Aunt Cynthia hugged my naked body to her breast &
soothed my tears away when she decided I'd learned my lesson. I'll never forget how
submissive & happy I felt as she told me why she'd spanked me & how she hoped she
would never have to do it again. At that moment, I hoped so too, but after I was put to
bed to take a nap & left alone, I thought about everything & fell asleep hoping it
could all happen again.
Aunt Cynthia was her pleasant self when she came to wake
me up, but I was too embarrassed to look at her until she took me in her arms & told
me I'd been naughty, got what I deserved, & all was forgiven. Then she made a joke
about how cute my bottom was & how much cuter it looked all red, & that broke the
ice & made me laugh.
Aunt Cynthia spanked too hard to be taken lightly so I
was a good boy for the rest of my stay, but I did have the shameful pleasure of her taking
my temperature rectally when I came down with a slight fever one day. It wasn't as
exciting as feeling her finger or the enema nozzle inside me, but I enjoyed it too.
From then on, Aunt Cynthia & her old-fashioned ways
were imbedded in my sexuality. I masturbated to memories of what happened & fantasized
about it happening all over again, but it never did. My father was promoted &
transferred to another part of the country, & I never spent another Summer under the
care of my adored aunt. She was always in my thoughts though, & still is as the
prototype woman I've always sought but never found.
I'm sorry this has run on so long & hope you'll cut
it down if need be & use it in your wonderful publication. It would please me greatly
to see it in print, & I want to thank you for providing a place for me to share my
story. -- A grateful fan