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i hade just joined the navy and reported to my first ship i was assigned to #2 boiler room my boss was a 38yo first class i was 17, One night after watch i was taking a shower ancame into the head and we talked some next thing i knew he was in the stall with me he told me he liked me alot and would i like to try some g****** i just noded yes he started to feel me up my chest then pulled me close and kissed me he foundled my c*** and balls i got so turned on he held up his c*** and said s*** it i got on my knees and sucked him i gaged some, He got me on my feet had me lean on the shower wall and told me to spred my a** cheeks i felt his c*** head on my a*** he said this will hurt and try not to make noise in one push he was in me and it did hurt he kept f****** me i started to cry he he held my hips shoved it all in me and cam, it started to drip out and he rubed it on my back.when he was done he asked me to be his sea p**** i said yes from that day on every day on the shp i blew him and let him f*** me

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Living with aunt…..i found out why special surprise the next evening. That morning she again welcomed me to the shower and allowed me to touch myself. But when i got close to finishing she inatructed me to stop and to dry off and get out of the shower. Very frustrating and i pouted some and pleaded, and she was very angry. I ended up right back where i had been a couple of days ago, getting the hairbrush on my cheeks and thighs for a protracted time. She did not use the belt but after i was sobbing and pleading again she snapped at me, that this was why i needed to be cured of my addiction, i whined the minute i did not get to enjoy my body. While i did not get the belt, after reducing me to sobbing and begging, she turned the brush around and i got several agonizing minutes of the coarse bristles on my already burning backside. I was trembling and hurting and was nearly dragged back to the shower, ordered to stand there letting cold water spray on my aching backside and then facing it until my g e nit als were shrunken to near invisibility. I was a wrecked blubbering pathetic mess, and as she held me afterwards she again stressed that my behavior is what made me weak and she wanted to be proud of me for good behavior. She said she was proud of me for accepting her direcrion and punishment but she wanted me to be well behaved and not self destructive to begin with. She said these things in a loving way but there was no mistaking her when she said that punishments could be far worse than they had been. That she did not want me to force her to be that harsh but that it was up to me whether it happened.

At bedtime that day she instructed me to lay on my stomach, and she spanked me by hand, stinging and making me tear up but nothing like the hairbrush. As i lay there shivering and sniffling, she left and came back with wet towels to lay on my cheeks and backs of thighs to ease the pain. Once i was calmed down, she had me turn to spoon me and her hands gently stroked my skin. Dangerously close to my groin and arousing me but she said that just as punishment could get worse, the pleasure could get better if i behaved. So i vowed to myself to try harder to behave, because while i knew she loved me, i was also now frightened of her.

The next morning began a new morning ritual. She showered with me and let me play with myself but to reinforce her rule over me, every shower began with a standing light spanking by her hand, then bathing and allowing me to self pleasure, and then another standing shower spanking, this time with her hairbrush. As each day after day started this way, mas tu rba tion started becoming something that was associates with her control and the discipline, and my urges were dropping quickly. I began to see the morning showers as a duty or exercise in self discipline rather than a pleasure.

This was also when i had to make a daily report phone call to my mother by my aunt,’s direction, reporting whether i had disobeyed and confirming i was being spanked proactively. My mother was skeptical at first so thwt call i had to stay on the phone with my mother so she coulr hear the soanking and my crying as i was bent bare bottomed over the back or a living room char as i knelt on it.

The next door sisters/landlords, my aunt’s lifelong lovers, also began to drop in regularly and my aunt required me to report to them as well. My aunt started a calendar to track how often i had urges or waa allowed to and able to successfully play with myself.

To be continued.