By Sushil
Copyright 2020 by Sushil, all rights reserved
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This
story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced
nudity,
spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for
the
purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be
attempted
in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not
of legal age in your community to read or
view
such material, please leave now.
My mother and father are from India, but I was born and grew
up in the United States. By age 10, I had developed a real sense of
modesty, and was mortified even at the thought of a girl seeing me
naked. For example, one time for a school book report, I read "Little
Men" by Louisa May Alcott. In the book, there is a scene of boys being
bathed by two women when he enters an orphanage. Just reading that
story made me feel embarrassed and I felt glad I was not that boy.
My
mom, for her part, respected my modesty. She had stopped bathing me
around age 8. Up until I was 10, she would help me wash my hair. After
age 10, I was never naked in the presence of my mom, except for school
physicals. Even there, she tried to minimize my embarrassment by taking
me to a male pediatrician, and turning away when the doctor did the
whole turn and cough routine.
That state of affairs continued
until I went to India with my mom for the wedding of one of her younger
sisters. I think I was around 12 years old, but, in any case, had not
started puberty yet. We stayed at my grandma’s house. My mom was the
oldest of 3 sisters. The middle one was in her 20’s and was getting
married. The youngest sister was 19 years old, and was away at college
when we arrived.
This was some time back, before India had
developed like it is now. The house was large, but did not have a lot
of the modern amenities like indoor plumbing. Instead, the house was
built around a large courtyard. In the middle was a pump. Off to one
side of the yard was a bathing area that was walled off for privacy.
Whenever you took a bath, you would fill up a bucket with water at the
pump and carry it to the bath area. There, you would use a small cup to
pour water on yourself.
Well this proved to be a problem, I was
used to showering and using washcloths in America. I was not used to
taking a bath with a bucket of water and soaping myself with my hands.
Because of this, I did not do as good a job as I should have. Add to
that the fact that there was more dirt in general due to dusty unpaved
roads, and in a few days, I had developed a few small boils on my legs.
When I showed them to my mom one morning, she immediately
called my grandma and aunt to come to the room and take a look. The
three of them agreed that it was due to my not bathing myself properly.
It was agreed that my mom would give me baths from here on out.
“Mom, I don’t want you to give me a bath. I’m a big boy now.” I protested.
“Would you like me to give you your bath?” my aunt piped up?
I blushed at the thought of my aunt giving me a bath.
“Don’t
tease him,” my mom said in my defense. “He did not grow up here, and so
he is very shy and is not used to our culture. Sushil, honey, remember
I am your mother. I changed your diapers and gave you baths all your
life. I know you are embarrassed, but this is for your good.” my mom
told me.
I realized it was hopeless. I would much rather have my mom give me a bath than my aunt. I agreed.
My
mom grabbed a towel and we went out to the courtyard. I helped my mom
fill the bucket with water from the pump, and carried it to the bath
area. Once we were in the bath area, my mom threw the towel on the wall
to keep it dry, and then began to undress me. She took off my shorts,
and then my shirt. I thought for a minute that I might be able to keep
my underwear on, but as soon as she had pulled my shirt off, she
quickly pulled my underwear down as well and had me step out of them.
I
stood completely naked before my mom. To be honest it wasn’t really
that bad. It had only been a couple of years since she had seen me in
the shower, and like I mentioned, I had not yet started puberty. After
a few awkward minutes, I kind of became used to it and we started
chatting like normal. After the bath, my mom wrapped the towel around
me and we went into our room where I got dressed.
This continued for a week. By this time, I was used to my mom giving me a bath and thought nothing of it.
Then
my youngest aunt came home from college. When she arrived early in the
morning on the train, I was overjoyed. She brought me books and toys.
Since I had come here, there was no one even close to my age. I was
bored at the house. While my mom, older aunt, and my grandma more or
less ignored me during the day, my youngest aunt would play games with
me. I had learned a little chess back in America, and my aunt and I
would play.
The second day after she came, my mom called me to come take my bath. I was playing chess at the time with my youngest aunt.
“Akka,” my youngest aunt addressed my mom. “Akka” is our word for “big sister”.
“I will give Sushil his bath.”
Before I could say anything, mom came to my defense.
“Thanks,
but I had better give Sushil his bath. He did not grow up here, so he
doesn’t understand our culture. He would be embarrassed to have you
give him his bath,” my mom replied.
“Embarrassed to have his favorite auntie give him his bath?” my aunt asked incredulously. “Let me ask him?”
“Sushil, you are ok with me giving you a bath, right?”
I shook my head.
“Why not?”
“You’re a girl!”
“I know, just like your mother. She is a girl too.”
“But… She’s my mom. Mothers are special.”
“But I am your mother’s sister. Your aunt. I am also a mother to you.”
In our culture, we referred to mothers’ younger sisters as “little mothers” and they were treated like our own mothers.
“But my mother has been giving me baths since I was little. She’s already seen me.”
“But I gave you your baths when you came to India when you were five. I have already seen your cute little bottom and pee-pee.”
Apparently
the argument convinced my mom. My mom joined in at this point. “See
Sushil, she is just like me. I am so busy honey these days, it would
really help me if you let auntie give you a bath, just like she did the
last time we were here.”
I was used to listening to my mom, so I
didn’t put up any resistance as my aunt grabbed a towel and led me out
to the courtyard. Just like with my mother, I helped her fill the
bucket, and carry it to the bathing area.
As soon as we got into
the bath area, my aunt casually put her fingers in the waistband of my
shorts and underwear, and pulled them both down in a single quick
motion.
I yelped, and instinctively covered myself with my hands.
“I’m
your aunt. I’m just like your mother. No need to be shy,” my aunt said
with a smile. “Now lift up your hands so I can take off your shirt.”
I lifted my arms so my aunt could take off my t-shirt, exposing my privates to her.
“You’ve grown a lot since I saw you last,” she commented as she pulled my t-shirt off me.
I blushed. It was a lot more embarrassing and exciting to be naked in front of her than my mom.
She
then proceeded to matter-of-factly give me a bath, not really paying
any attention to my embarrassment. She even pulled my foreskin back to
wash the head of my penis and washed up my butt crack with her hand.
This was all done in a casual way, while we were talking about other
stuff.
After we were done, she dried my off with the towel, wrapped it around me, and sent me off to our room to get dressed.
After
that, my youngest aunt bathed me whenever my mom was busy. I got used
to it, though there was always a little rush when she undressed me. I
think the fact that my aunt hung out with me a lot during the day
playing games and talking and joking with me, made it more awkward for
her to see me naked. Most of the day she was like a playmate and peer,
unlike my mother. But then for my bath, I had to switch gears and see
her as an authority figure and stand naked and exposed in front of her.
For
her, I don’t think it was a big deal at all. In the Indian culture in
which my aunt grew up, older sisters and aunts and moms bathed boys. It
was just what was done, and nobody thought that was weird or shameful.
For her, my embarrassment was more a source of bemusement about the
cultural differences.
Because of this, she was a lot less careful about protecting my modesty than my mother had been.
My
mother never allowed anyone else to come into the bath area while she
was giving me my bath. If one of my aunts or grandma wanted to talk
with her, she would tell them she was giving me a bath, and would talk
with them afterwards. However, my aunt was different. If my mom or
grandma or other aunt wanted to talk with her, she would yell out that
she was in the bath area and for them to come in. The first time was
with my mother. Since I was already used to my mom seeing me naked and
giving me a bath, I did not object. My aunt took that as a precedent,
and later on, the visitors included my other aunt and grandma. Although
I was embarrassed for them to see me naked, I did not protest or make a
big deal about it. Everyone seemed so casual about it, and as my aunt
had pointed out, they were all in a mother-like relation to me.
Then
a few days before the wedding, my mom’s cousin arrived from out of town
to stay with us until the wedding. She had four daughters. The oldest
was 12, the same age as me. The rest were younger.
They were
in awe that I lived in America. They asked me about how life was and
about all the modern stuff. I was like a god to them.
For my
part, I enjoyed the adulation. It was satisfying to my male ego to have
all these girls hanging on every word I was saying and being impressed
with my life in America.
That evening, my aunt took me for my
bath. The whole time I was being bathed, I was in mortal fear that one
of the girls would come into the bath area. To my relief, no one came
into the bath area, and it was just me and my aunt for my bath.
The
next evening, there was a big pre-wedding event we all had to go to.
The whole house was abuzz with excitement. Everyone was getting ready.
My aunt called me. “Come, Sushil, let’s go take your bath.”
Just
like usual,I filled the bucket at the pump. Just as we were about to
head to the bathing area, the maid informed us that my mom was taking a
bath in there.
My aunt just shrugged and said “Ok, then we will do it here!”
And
with that, she casually pulled down my shorts and underwear, and told
me to lift my arms to take off my t-shirt. I was embarrassed to be
naked in front of the maid, who until this time had never seen me
undressed. My aunt acted like it was no big deal and began to pour
water on me and soap me up. I closed my eyes as my aunt soaped up my
face.
After my aunt rinsed my face, I opened my eyes. To my
horror, I saw the four girls that were staying with us. They were fully
dressed in their party outfits. I was mortified!
Up until this
time, I had been the big, suave, sophisticated boy from America, and
now I was just a naked little boy, with my bare bottom, balls, and
penis exposed, getting a bath in front of them while they were fully
dressed! I am sure my face must have turned red with shame! How would I
be able to look them in the eye, much less talk with them in the future
now that they had witnessed my complete exposure?
As soon as the
bath was done, I hurried upstairs and put on my clothes. We all went
together to the pre-wedding event. In the festivities, I forgot about
my embarrassment. We came home exhausted, and all fell asleep.
The
next morning, to my surprise, the girls’ attitude toward me had not
changed. They still asked me about America and hung on my every word. I
was still the big, suave, sophisticated boy from America. To them, a
boy getting bathed in the open was just a routine part of life.
I
realized that the whole time that the only person who cared about my
nudity was me! Nobody else cared or thought any less of me on account
of seeing me naked. I was stressing myself out unnecessarily.
For
the rest of my time during my India visit, I decided to be as casual as
they were about my nudity. I let my mom and aunt bathe me in the open
next to the pump. While my mom or aunt was bathing me, I would often be
talking and laughing with the girls. There was a strange excitement and
freedom at being naked in front of these females.
The actual
wedding occurred a few days later, and shortly after that mom and I
went back to America. What was strange is that once I was back in
America, it was like a switch flipped and I went back to being modest
again. It is so weird how just a change of location can change a boy’s
feeling about modesty so greatly.
Unfortunately, my mom did not
appreciate fully, just how much my modesty had returned, now that I was
back in America. The big reason for this is that while I once again
felt mortified at the thought of a female seeing me naked, that shame
did not apply with my mother. Sometimes, she would come into the
bathroom while I was getting undressed or showering to collect clothes
for washing or to put away clean towels in the cabinet. Since we had
clear shower doors, I was completely exposed to her. However, because
she was my mother, and she had seen me naked so recently in India, this
casual exposure did not bother me at all.. I would happily chat with
her about my day while stark naked. However, my mom thought that my
care-free nudity around her was due to a general lack of not caring who
saw me naked. This misunderstanding would lead to some embarrassing
situations for me.