From the time I was very young, maybe 7-years-old, up until the time I was maybe 11 or 12, I was subjected to ritualized bare bottom switching at the hands of my aunt. I was born in 1950 and at that point in time, corporal punishment was very common, and even the baring of one's bottom to receive corporal punishment was not viewed as child abuse in the least. As a matter of fact, many felt that was the way corporal punishment should be administered and viewed humiliation as an equally as important part of the punishment as the actual spanking. This most certainly seemed to be the case with my aunt, who used to punish me at the slightest pretext.
My aunt was often left in charge of me while my mother was away, and she would punish me for the most minor infraction of her rules, and every time the punishment was the same.
Whenever she decided that I needed to be punished I was required to go into my bedroom and remove all my clothes, including my underwear, and put on only my robe and slippers. I was then required to go out into the yard and pick a switch for her to use on me and bring it back into the house to her. I always found this trip out into the yard, dressed only in my robe and slippers, very embarrassing. It seemed to me that invariably the elderly neighbor lady would be working in her yard and witness me traipsing into the yard, head held down, and watch me pick my switch and trudge back into the house. And even though I tried to avoid direct eye contact with her, I would always steal a sideways glance at her and make eye contact long enough to see a sort of knowing victory smile on her face, which would add to my embarrassment.
Once I was back in the house, my aunt would take the switch from me and swish it through the air a few times to make sure it was supple enough for its purpose. At this point, and after seeing her swish the switch through the air, I would be in tears and hysterically begging her not to give me a switching, but she was undeterred and would simply look down at me with pursed lips and then say, “Lets go into the bathroom and get this over with.” We would then proceed into the bathroom where I was required to remove my robe and slippers and bend, totally naked, over the edge of the bathtub with my elbows resting on the inside of the tub. Once I had assumed this position she would give me a cursory lecture on my misdeeds and then start in on me with her switch. Even though I would already be sobbing, I would start to howl almost immediately as she began to work on my bottom with her switch. And if the elder lady that lived next door had any doubts about why I was picking the switch, I am sure her questions were quickly answered because I am sure I was vocal enough that I was easily heard, even outside the house. However, my aunt was undeterred by my protests and methodically worked her way up and down my bottom with her switch. She never struck me on my thighs or back, but she sure worked on my bottom, making several trips up and down my bottom until it was a mass of red welts. By the time she was finished I would be a blubbering mess and be promising the world if she would just stop. After she had decided the job was done she would stand me up and lecture me again and give me a hug and tell me how much she loved me, and how I needed to learn to be good. I was then allowed to go to my room where I would dive into my bed and cry myself to sleep.
At the time this started to happen I felt only pain and embarrassment but as I grew older I began to sexualize the experience. I think I grew up in a very strange family environment dominated by women that paid entirely too much attention to my bottom. I also received frequent enemas as well as spankings and the imprint of these treatments is that I sexualized both.