Adults finding shame and embarrassment amusing during childhood

I was talking with another Zity member about those times growing up when we were ashamed and embarrassed but adults thought this was amusing, or cute and even encouraged more shame by teasing. This has left a lasting impression on me and I wonder if this is the same for others?

The Zity member and I had both had experiences when we had been naked on the beach growing up and been seen by others.

I was bought up in the 50’s and early 60’s and we had our holidays in a rural seaside town in the UK that didn’t that have many people around. My Aunt would brush aside any concerns as I got older and she expected me to be naked on the beach. Her reasoning included there being few people around (true), drying a swimming costume in the hotel would be impossible (again true) and that other boys and girls were not interested in me. I knew this to absolutely not true and that any opportunity to see an older boys penis and bottom would be taken by others.

If another family arrived, particularly if they had girls then I was very embarrassed and wished there was a big hole I could disappear into. Even at 9 or 10 years old sometimes my Aunt would tell me to stop making a fuss and go in the sea or play on the beach naked. Often the mother of the other family would point out my embarrassment and my Aunt and the woman would laugh at me which would make my cheeks go bright red.

I recall when I was slightly older seeing a younger boy with his grandfather buying an ice cream from a van beside the beach. He had been happy playing with no clothes on the beach but was now in a different situation and looked very ashamed despite his grandfather clearly thinking he was just a little boy and there was no problem with him being completely naked. I recall the boy standing there holding his grandfathers hand and in his other hand his ice cream (so unable to cover himself) and older ladies saying how cute and sweet he was. Of course, other children were looking at his bare private parts with amusement and he was blushing bright red with embarrassment.

For me I remember staying with a married older couple who looked after me from time to time. Even at 11 they always bathed me with their younger grandchildren, two girls and a boy and would tease me about my embarrassment. I would hate the girls looking between my legs, for that is what they did. I also recall being dried after a bath with the other boy in front of the living room fire (no central heating in those days). Sitting around were their friends, older women and men sitting drinking tea. They teased me because I was embarrassed which everyone thought was very funny and I was left with my bare penis and bare bottom in full view of their friends for what seemed like ages.

I was also spanked in front of their friends for being rude My school trousers were pulled down around my ankles and underpants to my knees and I was given a good spanking standing in front of them. As I have said elsewhere, I was a small build and late to have hair below but I was about 14 and most certainly not a child down below. My shame standing in front of the assembled company with my bottom burning and the front of my shirt tucked up to my navel resulted in no sympathy but laughter and painful teasing at my deep embarrassment. There was no hurry to cover me up and the laughter and teasing at being an older boy being spanked on his bare bottom hurt my teenage pride even more. An experience I have relived many, many times.

Very often, the shame of children is neglected. This is especially true for boys. I was lucky that my corporal punishment took place without witnesses. However, I was embarrassed when the teacher gave me a spanking. This was done without witnesses. Still, I was very ashamed because she saw my naked buttocks. I was 9 years old. When I met this teacher afterwards, I felt ashamed because I remembered she saw me undressed.I was glad when I changed school after a year and didn't see the teacher anymore.

My friend said that when he was at summer camp it was normal for boys to shower in the presence of a woman (it was their guardian). The boys were arranged in rooms of three. The woman took boys from two rooms and led them to the shower. There they had to strip naked and wash. Sometimes she said where to wash. The boys were 9-12 years old and it was embarrassing for many of them.

I don't have any siblings, but many of my friends had younger sisters. Usually the difference was 2-3 years. Children saw each other naked in childhood, it ended in adolescence. But it ended when a girl, not a boy, began to mature. When the boy said that he was ashamed to be undressed by his sister, his parents disregarded it.

Often boys were spanked in the presence of their sister. One of his colleagues said that it was very embarrassing for him. When he asked his parents to do it without his sister, they did not understand it. They said that his sister sees him in the bath and when dressing.

Shame is an extraordinarily powerful emotion. We will do almost anything to either A) avoid it, or B) experience it safely.

As a child, we run from it, or hide (and shame is often about hiding.) As an adult, if the environment is safe, we are willing to experience it with someone we trust. For me, the more the merrier, if the room is safe. I don't play with shame around people I don't know.

The idea of getting gangbanged is a fantasy of mine. The idea of doing it with friends I would have to see again drives me crazy. Imagine having to face people who have used your body, and have them pinch you on the butt!

Only when safe, however.....

This struck a chord with me. I was brought up in a Mediterranean beach town frequented by many tourists from Germany and Scandinavia.

On the beach we often saw tourist children stripped of their costumes as soon as they emerged from the water and left naked while the mother towelled them down with strict instructions to stand still not to get any sand on themselves. Some were left nude until it was time to leave. I began to take notice at age 7 or 8. The younger boys did not seem to care but all the girls and older boys tried hard, unsuccessfully, to cover up and the look of embarrassment on their face was quite priceless. I remember very vividly that they acted more ashamed when they saw someone (me) staring directly at them. Even at my young age I experienced a sensation which, later in life I realised was erotic. Personally I would have preferred to die than be exposed like them but watching them was very exciting.

Hello Barry,

Growing up, nothing like that happened to me, and as you will see from my blogs, spanking wise, I got off lightly compared to other kids! But I think your excellent post illustrates just how much power and authority adults had over children in those days! Doing things in a casual and nonchalent manner, that today, would be quite unthinkable! At the special school, I was a boarder at, - a school for ‘maladjusted children’. that was the official terminology they employed in those days - whilst I did not personally witness anything like that (though I saw plenty of examples of physical abuse) the staff would think nothing of sometimes slapping the boys bottoms when they came out of the shower or tickling and gently squeezing the boys penises! This was not something that happened all the time by any means; but the fact that it happened at all - and this was in the early to mid ‘80s - shows again just how casually adults in positions of power and authotity could do such things, back then! Often at the start of term, after the first shower, boys would have to stand on a chair and be physically examined. This, in my experience, anyway, was nothing more than a quick visual examination of the boys bodies just to make sure that there was nothing wrong, or to worry about! A standard medical procedure for the times! But sometimes some of the staff would make inappropriate comments about the boys private parts; and there might be some tickling and squeezing of the boys penises and testicles! Looking back now, it wss the casual and unassuming manner, in the way it was done that, from todays perspective, is quite astonishing! Physical abuse was fairly common there; though I managed to avoid the worse of it! I was clouted a few times; but no better or worse than a lot of kids in those days! The usual ’clip round the ear' or smack round the head! Something my own Father did, from time to time! I think there were some instances of spanking; but again I avoided any of these! I seemed to have lived a charmed life! LOL

I can remember as a child 6 or 7 perhaps staying with an aunt at their farm cottage and being bathed by my aunt in a tin bath in front of the fire. Also present was my uncle, and two cousins a boy my age and a girl about one year younger. As the guest I got the bath water first so was undressed by my aunt, washed then dried and put in my pyjamas. Followed by my two cousins strangely I can't remember feeling embarrassed even when standing in the tin bath having my ‘bits’ washed in front of my cousins.

I've written about this before but later at age 11 I had a stomach operation which was repeated at age 16. I was allowed home early because my mother was a former nurse so I could have her care for me at home. This went well for me until as she couldn't go out much her two friends came to see her. More details in my other account of this but to my great embarrassment she decided without asking me to show them my scars when they asked how I was getting on. I ended up stood in front of them (shaved) with my pyjama trousers around my ankles fully exposed to them.

I think my mother being an former nurse and me being the youngest in the family she just didn't consider I might be embarrassed, I probably wasn't the only one I don't suppose her two friends expected my mother to ‘display’ her son to them.

I can remember as a child 6 or 7 perhaps staying with an aunt at their farm cottage and being bathed by my aunt in a tin bath in front of the fire. Also present was my uncle, and two cousins a boy my age and a girl about one year younger.

i so relate johcrossley. We had an old tin bathtub that was put in the middle of the kitchen floor at our farm house on Saturday morning. We younger kids all had to take a bath, one at a time. i feel like the older boys (family of 8 kids), would be laughing at us. From a very early age, i have always felt shame around being naked.

yet at the same time, i have always been secretly curious; and i began to experiment sexually very young.

weird. its like shame moved me to self discovery.

I don't think my parents underestimated childhood shame. They made conscious use of shame and embarrassment over nudity when they punished me.

Between the ages of four and six, my usual punishment was a bare bottomed "switching." Mom or Dad would take the switch off a hook on the kitchen wall (the switchings always took place inside the house, in our living room), and order me to stand still. They'd unbuckle my belt and pull down my pants and underwear, leaving them wadded around my ankles. Then the switching would begin.

By then, I knew it was "naughty" for anyone to see my bare bottom or penis, so I hated being naked from the waist down as much as I hated the pain from the switch hitting my bottom. My sister (three years older than I was) always ran into the living room to watch, unable to contain her glee at seeing me stripped, and the way my little penis would shake with each smack of the switch to my bottom (she thought my humiliation over the latter was especially hilarious.) Mom and Dad never told her to leave while I was being switched; in fact, they seemed to notice how much I hated her laughing at my shame. They always said, "Now, you remember this so we don't have to do it again!"

Just for 'good measure,' they'd force me to spend a post-switching half-hour in the corner with my pants still around my ankles. My sister continued to run in and out of the living room, just to squeal some more at my bare hips and cock, and my embarrassment.

I think I felt more embarrassed having my pants down than if I'd just been naked. It seemed to make a point of shaming me by everyone getting to see my hips and penis, in particular.

On one occasion, a neighbor came over to visit and saw me like that, standing in the corner, naked everywhere it counted. I never forgot her smile, or how she made no secret of taking in all the details, or her smug advice... "Well, you be sure to mind your mom and dad, so they don't have to do this again."

But they always found a reason.

Even after we were older, and Dad had (mostly) shifted to punishing us with two-hour (clothed) stands in the corner, he still made threats of naked humiliation to keep us in line. If my brother and I got too rowdy in the car, he would threaten to strip us naked in public.

I recall vividly an experience in which Dad lost his temper as my brother and I were goofing around in the back seat, distracting him in heavy traffic. He told us that we had three seconds to settle down, or he was going to pull over to the side of the to road, pull us out of the car, pull down our pants "right in front of everyone" and spank us. (I was about 10 at the time, and my brother would have been 8.) And he clearly meant it.

We were both horrified, and didn't make a sound for the rest of the trip.

It was clear that the main point wasn't the physical pain involved in the spanking. It was showing us who was boss by threatening us with public sexual humiliation.

None of this was even remotely "fun" when I was a kid. But things change...

It's probably because of all the bare-bottomed spankings and being on display as a kid, that I still have a thing about having my pants pulled down, and about being bottomless. Given that my girlfriends and wife # 1 often told me about their kinks (and I would try to give them what they wanted), I would sometimes ask them to humor me with my stripped butt fetish. Like my girlfriend when I was 18, who would come over evenings where I was house-sitting, gleefully strip down my pants and remove and keep them, and tell me I had to remain bottomless the whole evening (even while we watched TV)—with everything where she could see it—if I wanted her to suck me in bed that night. (For me, that was a win-win.)

I don't think my parents underestimated childhood shame. They made conscious use of shame and embarrassment over nudity when they punished me. (...) By then, I knew it was "naughty" for anyone to see my bare bottom or penis, so I hated being naked from the waist down as much as I hated the pain from the switch hitting my bottom. My sister (three years older than I was) always ran into the living room to watch, unable to contain her glee at seeing me stripped, and the way my little penis would shake with each smack of the switch to my bottom (she thought my humiliation over the latter was especially hilarious.)

I find it unacceptable to be shamed by the presence of a sibling during corporal punishment. However, shame itself is an element of punishment, even if it takes place without witnesses. I remember that when I was a teenager I was embarrassed that I had to bare my bottom for a spanking. When I asked my mother not to do this, she replied that it was necessary. She reasoned that she had to see my buttocks so as not to hurt me. When I said I was ashamed, she replied that shame was part of the punishment.

Sorry for the long response but here's my story...

I remember one particular event where I felt this kind of embarrassment. When I was about 12 my parents and I were invited for dinner at a friend from college. They had a 5 year old boy. As the adults talked I was expected to play with the boy. It was OK for a while, but when I got bored I wanted out of the babysitting role to be with the grown ups. Well, the dads had gone to the store for some last minute dinner item and the moms were busy with dinner prep so I got the "Oh sorry, but I really need you to keep so-and-so entertained so we can get dinner ready." I was pissed but felt like I had no option so I did.

Dinner was my chance to interact with the grown ups but it was short lived. The boy only picked at his food and quickly declared he was full and was allowed to leave the table. Of course he wanted me to play with him. I resisted but my mom told me to, "Hurry up and finish so you can play with him." The adults were now free to chat around the table, conversation I wanted to be a part of but they were now free to talk into the night.

When dinner conversation wrapped up, it was announced that it was time for the boy to have his bath and get ready for bed. Yea, I thought. Ha, no the boy told his mom he wanted me to take a bath with him. I shook my head no, but my mom said to me, "Oh, go ahead. It will be a good opportunity for him to see what an older boy looks like." (Mom was well aware I had pubic hair) But it seemed that if I put my foot down and refused, I'd look like a naughty child when all I really wanted was to be treated like an adult. I felt trapped. The moms herded us "boys" to the bathroom and boy's mom started the bath water and undressing the boy. I was stalling, not wanting this to happen but mom was having none of it. She started to undress me as well while telling me, "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you're both boys. Don't be so silly." Well, I didn't want mom undressing me like another little boy so I quickly turned facing a wall and striped to my underpants. I hoped I could get away with getting in the tub wearing my underpants. But mom figured out what I was trying and yanked down my underpants before I had stepped into the tub. I desperately tried to cover my privates from the other mom which allowed my mom to finish getting my underpants off. My only option of some cover was to get into the tub with the little boy. Well, the tub only had a few inches of water and so provided no cover.

Then the boy said "Look mommy, he's got hair around his wee-wee just like daddy." His mom replied, "That's right, and in a few years you'll start growing hair there too." I wanted to curl up and die right there. Of course, the moms stayed in bathroom talking the whole time until finally the boy's mom told him it was time to get out. She lifted him out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel and took him to his bedroom. Through my clenched teeth I told mom, "Now can you get out of here so I can get dressed." My mom did not appreciate being talked to like that, but I didn't care. She left and I quickly got out of the tub and dressed.

When I got back to the living room I asked dad for the car key so I could go sit in the car. Dad gave me the key and I left. About 10 minutes later my parents came out and 'good byes' were said. Once we were out of sight of the house. Mom started telling me off about how embarrassed she was by my behavior. She told me that I was acting like a little boy all evening and suggested that maybe I should get spanked like a little boy when we got home.

Well, I blew up! I told her how she had been treated me like a little boy the whole evening and how I hated it. I said much more which mom absorbed in a stunned silence. When I was done, mom turned to dad, I think, looking for support. Dad thought for a minute and then said "I think he's absolutely right. I think you owe him an apology as do I." The rest of the drive home was done in silence but when we got home mom did apologize to me. It was an important turning point in our relationship.

When I was about 12 my parents and I were invited for dinner at a friend from college. They had a 5 year old boy. (...) Then the boy said "Look mommy, he's got hair around his wee-wee just like daddy." His mom replied, "That's right, and in a few years you'll start growing hair there too." I wanted to curl up and die right there. Of course, the moms stayed in bathroom talking the whole time until finally the boy's mom told him it was time to get out. She lifted him out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel and took him to his bedroom. Through my clenched teeth I told mom, "Now can you get out of here so I can get dressed." My mom did not appreciate being talked to like that, but I didn't care. She left and I quickly got out of the tub and dressed. (...) The rest of the drive home was done in silence but when we got home mom did apologize to me. It was an important turning point in our relationship.

A very good example of a situation when a mother sees her son as a little boy. There is a huge difference between a 5-year-old boy and a 12-year-old boy. It's good that mom realized her mistake. When I was 12, my mother saw me naked more than once. But I can't imagine a younger boy or a friend's mother seeing me.

Once we were out of sight of the house. Mom started telling me how embarrassed she was by my behavior. She told me that I was acting like a little boy and maybe should get a spanking like a little boy when we got home.

Well, I blew up! I told her how she had been treated like a little boy the whole evening and how I hated it. I said much more which mom absorbed in stunned silence. When I was done, mom turned to dad, I think, looking for support. Dad thought a minute and then said "I think he's absolutely right. I think you owe him an apology as do I."

Wow. Your mother thought you embarrassed her! What a failure of basic understanding and empathy on your mother's part. And to make it about her.

I mean, c'mon: being made to take a bath with a much younger kid during a dinner visit to people you didn't know.

At least your father had the good sense to know when enough was enough of you being treated like a little kid and to give your mom a reality check.

I remember one particular event where I felt this kind of embarrassment. When I was about 12ve.

I was in a similar situation when I was 12 or 13 and the other boy, my remote cousin, was 7 or 8. Exactly like this boy, my cousin was absolutely tactless and started pestering that he wanted to have a bath with me. Fortunately my mum stayed away from the procedure but my aunt entered the bathroom a few times to check on. I had to play multiple toy boats with electric motors with him until finally my aunt came and said time is up. To andd up to my embarrassment there also was a comment about my public hair which I had just a small bit at that time.

@John_Sitter , you mentioned you mum knew you had pubic hair? Was it that she helped you in the the bath at that time?

@John_Sitter , you mentioned you mum knew you had pubic hair? Was it that she helped you in the the bath at that time?

@Kulemh, my mom knew I had pubic hair because she was used to seeing me naked on a regular basis when she gave me enemas. Since I was used to her seeing me naked at those times perhaps she thought that I wouldn't have concerns about exposure at other times.

Humiliation and teasing were a common part of my childhood and even teenage years when growing up! And this was just another example of the power and authority that parents and other adults had over kids in those days! Things that nowadays and even in more recent times would be regarded as abuse were in those days thought of as normal and invariably tolerated! Spankings, enemas and enforced nudity were a normal part of growing up in a way that would be unimaginable today! I would say that up until the mid to late '70s the power and authority of parents and many adults was virtually unchallenged and unchecked! And even then the changes were at first very slow marginal! Children and even teenagers bottoms were readily accessible to parents and and in many cases other adults, as well! Even, in some instances, (when authorised) older kids as well! If your mom and in my case and that of many other youngsters also, thought you deserved a spanking or felt an enema was needed, you had no choice but to submit to one! Also they could subject you to total or partial nudity whenever they saw fit! They had complete power over your bodies and were intimately acquinted with your bottoms! Mom was a nurse so we got regular enemas from her! And I have of course documented the numerous old fashioned, bare bottom, over the knee spankings that we received! Our lives were regulated revolving around chores, church (and church related activities), we were expected to work hard at school and get good grades; we had to mind our manners (and 'mind' more generally), we also had to address our 'elders and betters' as Sir and Ma'am and woe betide us if we ever showed disrespect to and adult or were in any way even remotely rude so much as thought of answering back! That always meant a spanking, indeed, a 'blistering' at that!

Of course we had fun and recreation as well! And even occasional treats! But any allowance we 'might' get was conditional on our earning it and on our behavior! Curfews were strictly enforced and minor misdemeanors not tolerated! Standards were high and demanded! You hardly ever saw vandalism, graffiti or litter and kids were much more respectful, well mannered and better behaved than later generations! Having said that we were by no means 'angels' or 'paragons of virtue' and got up to mischief and broke the rules, plenty! But it was all very innocent with what subsequent generations got up to!

I suppose the crux of all this is that the spankings, enemas and forced nudity we endured along with the humiliations we were subjected to had a controling effect and influence over us! Without them I think we would not have been nearly as well behaved as we were! That does not mean that everything that we went through was always justified or right! It is just how things were in those days! At least for me and my contemporaries, anyway! I believe that many of my generation did have a stronger sense of right and wrong than later generations - down often to Sunday School and scripture lessons - but it was the power our parents and other adults and even older kids (babysitters, etc...) enjoyed over us that made the most difference! IN MY HUMBLE OPINION ANYWAY!! Others may well disagree with me and I fully respect their views!

I apologise for some of the gramatical errors and mistakes I made in my last post! I did not check it before posting! Very careless of me! I deserve a good spanking! LOL

My Aunt Rose would often humiliate and tease me, my siblings and cousins when spanking us! Whether spanking us herself or witnessing the spankings we received from my Mom, Dad or Uncle Frank! Comments such as: "You have the cutest butt cheeks I have ever seen"; was a remark she often made about my bottom as well as my brother Mark's! And then after a spanking she would often say how "sweet are buttocks looked when they had been spanked"! Often remarking how "the color red siuted our bottoms"! How it (the color red) "enhanced our butts beauty!" Our sisters were also subjected to her comments and ridicule! Especially as they got older and their bodies - the bottoms in particular - filled out and became more chubby, chunky and curvy. Remarking how the were "just right for spanking!"; and "it would be a shame to not put some color on those delightful derrieres!" Also "the good Lord created bottoms for spanking; as well as sitting on!"; was another favorite comment of hers! Her own children were not spared these humiliations and ridiculing, either! And yes as I got older I did start to find these rituals and experiences sexually erotic and exciting! Even actively encouraging them sometimes! As a young adult I even, to my Aunt's delight, began spanking her myself! Something she really enjoyed! She was definitely a spanko! My cousins said that after their spankings they would often after my Aunt Rose and Uncle Frank had retired to their bedroom hear him spanking her! Listening to her squeals and protests such as "please 'Daddy' no!" She was evidently enjoying it however; and the spanking her kids had just got obviously sexually aroused her so much that she wanted to experience a spanking herself as a prelude to sexual intercourse!

I don't think my mother ever gave a thought about me being embarrassed even when I was an older teenager. I have written about this before but when I was sixteen (1966) I was quite ill and needed gastronomic surgery which left a long scar right down stomach. I was allowed home early because my mother had been a children's nurse so she could change my dressings at home. After a week or so and I no longer needed the dressings but she still stayed at home to care for me. This meant she wasn't seeing her friends so they came to see her at our house. Obviously they asked how I was feeling and the subject of my scar came up and was it painful? I assured them that it wasn't but this didn't seem to satisfy my mother who promptly offered to show them my scar. Being in my fathers old-fashioned pajamas with a buttoned jacket my mother stood me In front of her friends and took off the jacket making me feel very self-conscious.

I think her two friends probably felt a bit embarrassed and probably because of that one of them made some comment about how long the scar was. (It went right down below the top of my pajama trousers). My mother seemed to be enjoying all the attention and praise she'd been getting from her friends for nursing me and without asking me said 'John won't mind showing you it all.' To my complete horror she pulled the knot in the cord of the pajamas open and lowered the top of the trouser to just above my penis. At this one of her friends again spoke probably to hide her embarrassment at the situation saying something like 'it still looks very red and sore' and with that mother who was behind me holding the trousers up let go of them and came to look. Now my mother had been seeing me naked every time she washed or changed the dressings when I first left hospital and I'd got used to that as I think we all do in a hospital situation but now I was totally exposed (including shaved pubes) from the ankles up to her friends, both 30 something years old, whom I'm sure now if not before felt nearly as embarrassed as I did.

I reminded my mother about this many years later but she just said I didn't think it had bothered you, you were only young. I reminded her I was sixteen at the time but I now realize as the youngest child she probably didn't think about me as being a young adult.

I think my mom's stepdad loved embarrassing me and making me feel small because he would record me on video whenever I was upset or crying or anything like that then he would go to work and show his coworkers or make me watch it back (he was a cop). To this day I still don't like being recorded. he would also call me fat and stuff and make me hate my body. Again to this day I still hate my body and think I am a disgusting pig who does not deserve anything. It has even left me to self-harm especially when I am angry or sad.