I was nearly 18 years old and in that halcyon interlude between leaving
Grammar School and starting at University. My parents had invited me to
go with them on their summer holidays but I declined thinking that at
last I'd get a chance to swan around the home without them breathing
down my neck all the time. How wrong can you get!
They'd arranged for me to go and stay with my formidable aunt down on
her farm in Devon for the fortnight. They thought I would trash their
house while they were away. As if! Try as I might, I could not get them
to change their mind and even got blackmailed into going there. No visit
to the aunt - no extra money to tide me through university.
So I resigned myself to going down to stay with her and convinced myself
that it might be worth it, as I'd not seen my two twin cousins for about
5 years. The last time they had tormented me cruelly as being a couple
of years older than me they thought that they knew it all. They would
tease me incessantly about my lack of hair growth and my spots. OK - I
was a late developer. So maybe they had mellowed and developed into
gorgeous 19 year olds! Or so I hoped.
And so I found myself being driven down to Devon by my mother one Sunday
morning. We arrived around midday and I was ushered into the sitting
room to meet my aunt who, like my cousins, I had not seen for a long
time. I groaned inwardly as all the bad memories of being on ‘her' farm
came flooding back. 'Good fresh air'. 'Good long country walks - yuk'.
'Good farm cooking'. You see my aunt was one of that dying breed of
English countrywoman. A formidable, doughty, ‘brook no nonsense'
My mother and aunt made all the usual pleasantries, as sisters do, and
which I ignored until the subject of their discussion turned round to
me, as I knew it would. My aunt gave me a long hard look up and down and
commented how scrawny I looked. My mother started to object feeling that
perhaps her sister was casting aspersions on her cooking but a withering
glance from my aunt soon shut my mother up. You can see why I called my
aunt ‘the battle axe'. My aunt then calmly told me to strip off. I
started to protest telling her that I was nearly eighteen but she cut
off my objections saying that ‘she'd seen it all before'.
Now not even my mother had seen me naked for at least six years but
under the steely gaze of my aunt I proceeded to remove my clothes. As I
removed my shirt I dropped it on the floor whereupon my aunt bawled me
out for being untidy and that I should place it neatly on the chair. I
carried on undressing and placed the rest of my clothes neatly on the
chair until all that I had left on were my underpants. My aunt just
stood there saying nothing, just staring. I tried to outstare her and
lost. I bent down and removed my underpants.
So there I was, nearly 18 years old, standing naked in front of my
mother and aunt with my hands clasped in front of me trying to maintain
my dignity but all the while blushing a deep shade of red. ‘Stand up
straight.' I remember my aunt barking out like some parade ground
sergeant. ‘Hands at your sides and legs wide apart – let's get a good
look at you'. I did as she ordered.
And so for the next fifteen minutes, I was the subject of my aunt's
intense scrutiny. She looked in my eyes, in my ears. She yanked open my
mouth and took a good look at my teeth – I felt like some prize horse
being examined in the market. She made me flex my muscles and tested
them for muscle tone commenting that ‘after a fortnights' hard work I
should see some improvement'. She looked at my fingers and fingernails
and even looked at the soles of my feet. She had me touch my toes and
then she pulled apart the cheeks of my bottom and without so much as a
‘bye your leave' stuck one of her fat fingers up my rectum. She pulled
it out without ceremony muttering under breath that ‘there was nothing a
good long series of enemas couldn't cure'. Oh boy, was I looking forward
to the next fortnight.
Finally she came around to my front and then proceeded to spend a good
five minutes feeling my penis and testicles. Pulling the foreskin back
and forth until I had a sizeable erection and rolling my testicles
around in the palms of her hand. I had never felt so humiliated and
embarrassed in my life. At last she stood up and I started to pick up my
clothes. ‘You can leave those where they are, young man. You won't be
needing those for the rest of the day. You need a good enema', she
While I was digesting this little snippet I heard the front door open
and close and a couple of girlish voices could be heard coming down the
hall. ‘Come in here girls and meet your cousin' I heard my aunt call
out, to my utter incredulity. In walked my two cousins who took a long
hard cool look at me, started sniggering and then looked at each other
and winked. For my part I simply did not know where to look. Both
cousins had blossomed out into two gorgeous examples of womanhood. Two
gorgeous examples who were now coolly looking me up and down like some
prize Herefordshire bull.
‘This is your cousin, girls. If you ask me he's a pretty feeble looking
specimen of a man but I'm sure that with your tender administrations
he'll go back to London in much better condition. After his journey and
to wash out all that London fast food why don't you take him outside
into the barn and give him a treatment of enemas?' my aunt said. And so
I was led out of the house, naked and like a lamb to the slaughter and
this little episode set the whole tone of the fortnight. My aunt and
cousins between them seemed to conspire to make my time as miserable as
possible. I had daily ‘inspections' to check how well my muscle tone was
developing and these were always done in the nude. In fact, if my memory
serves me well, they found every opportunity to keep me naked using such
excuses as ‘it's easier to wash you down than to wash the farm muck off
of your clothes' to excuses such as ‘your clothes aren't dry yet'.
I m sure that this set the scene for where I am now in my life. I seek
out every opportunity to be examined by a dominant female and to be
forcibly examined in the nude.