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I remember one day asking my aunt, do you have to take my underpants down, she replied, "I can't spank your bare bottom unless I do now can I."
I recall the baring as much as I do the spankings themselves, watching my aunt's hands undo and pull my pants down, time seeming to stand still, the look on her face and the worst part for me as a boy seeing and feeling her hands taking hold of the waist band and feeling my underpants or pajama bottoms coming down and I was standing there bare. At the same time the baring seemed to take for ever and not take long enough, because I knew what was next.
I could never understand how or why my bottom felt so bare, exposed when I was bared for a spanking compared to when I did it myself in normal every day changing or showers.
Over her lap she had complete control of us and could spank as thoroughly as she wanted, it was as a tween and teen very humbling going over the lap feeling like a little boy also frightening knowing there was nothing I could do but lay there being spanked until I was finally released.
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