Spanking Stories Enema
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Spanking Stories Enema
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When I was growing up, there was one punishment worse than a spanking. It was reserved for the pet peeve of my mother – if she heard a bad word come out of any of her children, the culprit was in for an old-fashioned mouth washing. These were a threat until I moved out of the house, when I turned 18.
The last one I received at home was when I was 17. No matter how old or young culprit, the procedure was always the same. It started when I came home from school. Normally, the second I walked in the door, I was on the phone with one of my friends. My mother usually worked until 5pm so I usually had a few hours home alone with my brother and sister.
But this day, my mother came home early and heard me say the F-word to one of my girlfriends over the phone. All she had to do was look at me and I knew what to expect. I immediately hung up the phone and she announced as she had many times before that she needed to ‘see me after dinner in the bathroom’. My heart stopped when I heard those words but I knew that any protest would be meaningless.
I sat quietly through dinner and hardly touched my food. At the conclusion of the meal, Mother again reminded me to meet her in the bathroom when the dishes were cleaned up. My face turned bright red as now my brother and sister knew what was about to happen. I gathered my nerve and walked up to my mother’s bathroom.
There, I found the punishment materials already laid out on the counter. A neatly folded white washcloth sat next to the sink. On it was placed a small bar of soap, like the ones found in hotels and motels. I put the lid down on the toilet and sat down. Tears began to fill my eyes, as all I could do was stare at the counter and the punishment tools.
While it seemed like hours had past (actually more like 15 minutes), my mother walked in the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind her. “Alright Ericka, off with your blouse. No need to get it wet, now, is there?” she asked rhetorically. As I took off my blouse and hung it on a hook, my mother began to run hot water in the sink and slowly peeled the wrapper off the little bar of soap.
As I sat back down on the toilet seat, I began to sob, knowing what was about to take place. I sat mesmerised as my mother wetted the washcloth in the hot water and began to work up a good lather with the small bar of soap. When she was satisfied that the cloth was well prepared, she called me over to the sink. I stood before her, trembling in my bra, with tears running down my face. A very meek ‘no’ rolled past my lips as I watched her pick up the small, gooey bar of soap.
“Open up!” she commanded, as I felt her grab a handful of hair to hold my head still. With her other hand she pushed the tiny bar of soap into my mouth in a well-practiced motion. Instantly, the horrible taste of the soap filled my mouth as more tears rolled down my cheeks. “Now chew it all!” she shouted at me, giving my hair a tug to emphasise her point.
As I chewed the horrible little bar, the terrible taste of the soap intensified. Several times I almost gagged as I chewed the soap up into smaller and smaller pieces. When my Mother was satisfied that the bar had been thoroughly chewed, she picked up the soapy washcloth and began shoving it into my mouth, almost like a gag. The effect greatly intensified the putrid taste of the soap.
“Now start counting slowly, my dear!” she said, and in very muffled tones I started counting from one to 100. As I counted, I drooled bubbles down my cheek and onto my breasts, soaking my bra. I also gagged several times on the horrible taste of the soap but was careful not to lose count. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my pitiful looks didn’t have any effect on mother.
Finally, I mumbled 100 and she mercifully pulled the washcloth from my mouth. She quickly pushed my head into the sink and told me to spit. That command was hardly needed as, in a very unladylike fashion, I began to spit out as much of the soap as I could. After about two minutes, she pulled my head upward and told me to get my blouse.
Turning, she unlocked the door as the sounds of my brother and sister scurrying down the hall could be clearly heard. Not letting me put my blouse back on, she grabbed me by the arm and escorted me to my room. There she watched as I put on my nightgown and got into bed.
“You may not leave your room until midnight – is that understood?” she said. “Yes mother,” I replied in a very small voice. She turned off the light and closed the door.
I waited for a few minutes, then grabbed the wastebasket and began spitting again, trying to rid my mouth of the horrible taste. The soap coated my teeth and resisted every effort to remove it. I once smuggled a toothbrush in my room but using it only resulted in a huge mouth of bubbles, aggravating the problem and taste. There was no way to avoid swallowing some soap, and my stomach churned and cramped as the soap did its worst.
About 11pm, I finally fell asleep, still tasting soap as I dozed off. It was about 3am when I awoke with a horrible tummy ache. Still half asleep, I ran to the bathroom, where my bowels erupted the minute I sat down from the powerful laxative action of the soap. Before the alarm went off at 6am, I had made several other mad dashes to the toilet.
That morning I dressed and brushed my teeth several times with mint flavored toothpaste in an attempt to remove the still-present taste of soap from my mouth. When I walked into the kitchen for breakfast, my mother walked up and gave me a big hug and kiss and told me how sorry she was for having to punish me. With tears in my eyes, I apologised for using foul language and promised to clean up my act in the future.
To this day, I cannot remember the last time I swore or heard a foul word from my brother or sister. Mother would be proud to see the way we turned out.
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All Maman stories are copyright, unauthorised reproduction may lead to legal action.
Maman is an adult website containing recollections of corporal punishment experienced during the contributors' childhoods. By proceeding, you are asserting that you are over the age of majority for the country in which you reside, and you further agree to the use of cookies on this website. Note that although this website contains only legal content, Maman is nevertheless a fetish site and should be considered Not Safe For Work (NSFW). Maman does not advocate corporal punishment for today's children. If you are a minor or likely to be upset by the subject matter, please do not proceed any further.
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Выбрать язык русский азербайджанский албанский амхарский арабский армянский африкаанс баскский белорусский бенгальский бирманский болгарский боснийский валлийский венгерский вьетнамский гавайский галисийский греческий грузинский гуджарати датский зулу иврит игбо идиш индонезийский ирландский исландский испанский итальянский йоруба казахский каннада каталанский киргизский китайский (традиционный) китайский (упрощенный) корейский корсиканский коса креольский (гаити) курдский (курманджи) кхмерский лаосский латинский латышский литовский люксембургский македонский малагасийский малайский малаялам мальтийский маори маратхи монгольский немецкий непальский нидерландский норвежский ория панджаби персидский польский португальский пушту руанда румынский самоанский себуанский сербский сесото сингальский синдхи словацкий словенский сомалийский суахили сунданский таджикский тайский тамильский татарский телугу турецкий туркменский узбекский уйгурский украинский урду филиппинский финский французский фризский хауса хинди хмонг хорватский чева чешский шведский шона шотландский (гэльский) эсперанто эстонский яванский японский
I was with my sisters-in-law recently – the wine was flowing pretty freely and the girl talk was starting to get naughty. My husband’s middle sister Brenda (I’ve changed all the names here, by the way) doesn’t have many inhibitions at any time and certainly not when she has been drinking.
During our chat, Brenda blurted out that she hoped that my husband could satisfy me since he had such a little dick. This is unfortunately true, but nevertheless I came to my man’s defence and insisted that he did not. Brenda replied bluntly that she knew he did, and regaled us with this spanking story from their youth…
My husband Tony is the oldest of four kids, and as the oldest he was generally very responsible and well behaved. My mother-in-law told me that he was the easiest of the four children to raise and subsequently not spanked very often. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Brenda, who is two years younger than him, was the most unruly of the four and by contrast often found herself with a sore and stinging bottom.
This story happened when Tony was 14 and Brenda was 12, and it was one of the last spankings that Tony ever got. He had returned home later than he was supposed to and then got into an argument with his mother about it. He gave her some attitude and she sentenced him to a spanking with the belt.
In the kitchen, he had to pull down his pants and underwear and then bend over and grab his knees while sticking out his butt for the spanking. Unbeknown to Tony and his mother Brenda and her friend Lisa had just come in from outside and were immediately drawn to the kitchen by the sounds of a spanking.
The two girls surreptitiously peeked around the corner and suppressed their giggles as they watched Tony getting about a dozen hard cracks with the wide leather belt. By the end, my husband-to-be was openly crying and the girls had to put their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter.
When she was done spanking her son, my mother-in-law let him up and he immediately did the spanking dance, hopping around from foot to foot and trying to wiggle out the pain. It was while he did this that Tony unwittingly exposed his little willy to his sister and her friend, who were naturally loving every minute of it.
The girls beat a hasty retreat to Brenda’s room, where they burst into fits of laughter. Lisa, who was 13 at the time and quite a bit more worldly than her friend, said: “I can’t believe how small your brother’s dick is – he’s such a baby!”
Brenda had no point of reference for this statement – when it came to boys, she had only ever seen Tony and her much younger brother naked. Lisa assured her that Tony’s penis was very small – she had seen her brothers even her little brother was bigger than that.
After more fits of laughter, the girls decided to go and tease Tony. After some taunts about him crying, they brought up the subject of his manhood. Lisa was really mean to him, making the ‘little pinky’ sign and talking about how she was going to tell the girls at school. Tony was getting very frustrated and begging them not to do so.
Suddenly, his mom showed up – she had not heard everything but she had heard enough. She ordered both girls downstairs immediately. She phoned Lisa’s mother and described what had happened. Lisa’s mother was horrified and promised that a spanking would be applied to her bottom upon her return home, but then my mother-in-law asked if it was OK if she administered itself. Spanking other people’s children was not uncommon in those days, and Lisa’s mom told her that would be fine with her.
My mother-in-law hauled both girls out of the corner where she had placed them, and divested them of their pants and underwear. She laid into them in no uncertain terms with a lecture about respecting people’s privacy and not being mean.
Finally, she made both girls present their bottoms and spanked them both thoroughly, alternating from girl to girl in groups of three strokes. Each girl got 15 stinging swats and then did their own spanking dance. They were then made to apologise to Tony and swear that they would never mention it again.
And until that day she told me, Brenda never had!
All Maman stories are copyright, unauthorised reproduction may lead to legal action.
Maman is an adult website containing recollections of corporal punishment experienced during the contributors' childhoods. By proceeding, you are asserting that you are over the age of majority for the country in which you reside, and you further agree to the use of cookies on this website. Note that although this website contains only legal content, Maman is nevertheless a fetish site and should be considered Not Safe For Work (NSFW). Maman does not advocate corporal punishment for today's children. If you are a minor or likely to be upset by the subject matter, please do not proceed any further.
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Subject: The Soapy Finger Treatment
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Date Posted: 10:49:48 08/28/17 Mon
Did anybody else get the soapy finger treatment?
My mom is a bit eccentric, o.k., she's crazy and had some strange habits. One of them was, along with my spanking she would poke her soapy finger up my butthole. Oh it burned!
I doubt it, but did anybody else get the soapy finger treatment?
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[> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 16:27:11 08/28/17 Mon
Sounds kind of yucky to me.
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[> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 05:40:47 08/29/17 Tue
Good heavens! Why did she do that?
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[> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 07:05:49 08/29/17 Tue
I've gotten the soapy finger treatment but not from my mom and not during a spanking. My room mate has done that after I'd gotten a spanking and because I stunk so bad she threw me in the bath and scrubbed me. Not the kind of anal fingering I would hope for.
Why did your mom do that? How did she do it? How often did she do it? Did she do it because you had dirty panties? How old were you when she did that? Did you ever get a soap suppository or enemas?
Sorry about all the questions.
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[> [> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 06:10:49 09/12/17 Tue
How did she do it? Usually over her knees with my bottom on fire. Either a wet bar of soap or dip her finger in shampoo, then poke her finger up my butthole. Makes my bowels burn just to think about it.
How often did she do it? I don't know how to answer that. Not with every spanking, and I got spanked a lot.
Did she do it because you had dirty panties? You seem to have some obsession with dirty, poop stained panties. There's nothing wrong with that, just something I've observed. Not specifically for that, but if it makes you feel better, my panties haven't always been spotless.
How old were you when she did that? I guess about 9 to 25 when I got my last spanking (from my mom).
Did you ever get a soap suppository or enemas? Those too, but not that often.
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[> [> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 05:50:40 09/14/17 Thu
Thanks for answering.
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[> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 07:16:50 08/31/17 Thu
What was your mothers intention when doing this?
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[> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 05:36:04 09/07/17 Thu
Oh yes. At first it was just for constipation, but constipation and misbehavior tend to go hand in hand, and mum knew that anal penetration (of any kind) was a greater threat for me than spanking.
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[> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 07:49:10 09/15/17 Fri
Let me also add that the after effects (burning bottom aside) last for a long time and are not pleasant. Lesson definitely learned, which may be what my mom was going for......or she was just crazy.
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[> Subject: Re: The Soapy Finger Treatment
Date Posted: 03:47:55 09/20/17 Wed
I used to get an enema after every spanking. Not as a part of the punishment, but because my mother was an anti-constipation fanatic and in her opinion, constipation was a leading cause of naughty behavior. She felt that if you needed a spanking, then you certainly needed an enema too!
Sticking her finger up your butt was her way of lubing you up for the nozzle. She had a rubber glove just for this chore. It was a very thin one and bright yellow. Depending on how mad she was at you and how you took the span
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