When I was ten years old, I went through a stage, either because I was in a hurry or thinking about getting back to playing, where I didn’t wipe my bottom properly after pooing.
My uncleanliness was noticed by our maid, who made it known to my mother. With my dirty underwear in her hand and in front of both the maid and my grandmother, my mother warned me that the next time something like this happened, I would receive a beating.
I took care of myself properly for a few days – but you know what boys are like…after only a few more days, the maid went back to my mother, again holding a very dirty pair of white underpants.
My mother made good on her threat. In the living room, and in front of everyone, she made me lower my trousers and underpants, then hit my bare bottom hard with the hairbrush he kept for disciplining me.
As I stood in the corner afterwards, my shame was made complete when mother showed my grandmother – who had inquired why I was being spanked – the dirty underpants.
Not did the humiliation end there. My mother also told me that from that day on and until I could be trusted, every time I went to the bathroom for a ‘number two’ I would have to ask my either her or my grandmother to come with me to wipe my bottom like a little child.
That ordeal lasted for ten days and I was hugely ashamed each time I had to ask to be taken to the toilet. I only complained once during these ministrations – when it was my grandmother who had to wipe my bottom – and once again, mother’s hairbrush paid a sharp, painful visit to my bare backside.
The punishment certainly worked, though. From then onwards, I was always much more careful to wipe my bottom properly when I went to the toilet and make sure both my behind and my underpants remained clean.