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I was 15 and being raised my a single Mom. I was in that awkward phase, wanting a girlfriend but too shy to make a move. I had more erections than I could count and if it occurred around my Mom I would sit on the couch and hide it with a pillow. One night she told to me what I was experiencing was totally normal.

A week later when I was taking a rinse shower before bed, the curtain opened and my Mom got in with me. Almost immediately I was hard and my embarrassment was on the side of awful, but she placed my hands on her breasts. Honestly, that was a relief of some sort. She washed me, I washed her.

We got out of the shower, dried off, she took me to her bed, laid me on my back, moved my head to her breast and gave me a h*******. She cleaned me up, positioned me against the headboard, laid against me and had me play with her breasts while she masturbated. Hard again, she gave me oral.

We laid in bed and talked for a good while. When I became erect, she got on top of me.

This continued through high school, some when I was home from college, but by then she was dating someone who she eventually married.

Looking back, sometimes I believe she needed me more than I needed her.

Looking back more, and considering all my experiences with women since, it’s probably the most intimate s** I will ever have.

I love you Mom.

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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.