My 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.

There 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.

I'm 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!

I 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.

Aunt 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.

They 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.

Finally, 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.

My 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.

"What 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.

Was 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 & disobedient?"

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 not.

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 me alone.

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