Examination by My Aunt

a True Story



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!

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' tweed-wearing battleaxe.

My mother and aunt made all the usual pleasantries and small talk, as sisters do. I ignored this 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 18 years old 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 – 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 bum 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 her 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 barked.

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. Two gorgeous girls who, having seen me naked, meant that I now stood absolutely no chance of chatting up either of them.

`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 a new man. 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 other 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 welcome every opportunity to be examined by a dominant female and to be forcibly examined in the nude.


by londonman42@hotmail.com