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Ich finde das eine Lederpeitsche für Züchtigungen das richtige Mittel ist. Wenn man mit dem Rohrstock oder der Reitpeitsche gezüchtigt wird gibt es zu dolle Striemen die auch sehr lange zu sehen sind. Für meine Züchtigungen hatte Mutti eine Hundepeitsche mit glattem Riemen, eine Hundepeitsche mit geflochtenm Riemen und einen Siebenstriem. Den Siebenstriem gab es bei uns in vielen Haushalten und er wurde zum auspeitschen ungehorsamer Jungen benutzt. Der Siebenstriem hatte einen Holzgriff an dem 7 ca. 50 cm lange Lederriemen befestigt waren. In Frankreich hieß die Peitsche Martinet und wurde ebenfals zum auspeitschen ungehorsamer Jungen verwendet.Natürlich tat das auspeitschen mit dem Siebenstriem auch weh und es gab Striemen. Aber die waren schnell wieder weg. Ich fand es richtig das Mutti oder meine ältere Schwester mich für meinen ungehorsam oder das einnässen mit der Hundepeitsche oder mit dem Siebenstriem ausgepeitscht haben.

Chapter Five The Tall Grandma-Aunt   “There she is. Cait, isn’t it?” her smile was genuine. It wasn’t stretched like she was pretending for a child. It wasn’t forced. It was just there, as if it belonged. “Come on out so I can get a look at you?”   Cait looked up at her, down at her dirty skirt and her stained and dingy top. She felt too dirty to be next to this tall very pretty woman with the moving of a queen. But she didn’t want to be rude.   She glanced down at the floor by her feet, far enough in and away, she wondered if maybe the woman didn’t see the floor. Maybe she doesn’t see the orange and yellow stains from the two times her writing paper had been ruined by her own stupidity. She looked back up at her.   The lady was bent down now, her arms held out for her, like big people often do with kids that are expected to make their way over.   Before she started to scoot towards her, she lifted her butt, and looked under it for a wet patch. It didn’t look lighter or darker than the seat. It felt safe. Making sure her skirt back stayed under her… in case any pee stains were visible either on it or her panties, she lifted up and moved and then sat and then did it again.   She clutched the crayon box in her hand, and stared up at her as she got to her feet.   As she looked down at her dingy brown strapped sandals, her dirty feet that showed through the sandal straps, and her eyes glanced back in the car where she was, afraid all of these things would tell Auntie how bad the trip was for her.   There were animal smells out there that made her wrinkle her nose. Did she smell like them?   Cait felt like the woman was really looking at her. It was hard to explain. It wasn’t like a test or like she was looking for a mistake.   She didn’t tell her to turn so she could check her butt like Daddy did if he thought Cait made another potty mistake.   She wasn’t asking her if she had something to say that… in that way… in the Daddy tense way.   She was just looking at her for a long moment.   “Cait,” she remembered back in February or March when the school had a Science fair, and he and mama took her and her sisters to the Middle school that night.   Her Sister, Grainne, the sister that often cleaned her up, made something for it, so they all had to go see it since there was no one to watch the little kids at home.   Cait had just gotten out of the car, and Dad wheeled her around without a word, the cigarette bouncing on his lip, and he lifted her skirt right there, and felt her panties. She was dry. But everyone in the parking lot saw the big fourth grader being checked for poop in her panties!   That had left a larger (in-flame-ited burning flush, that hurt her eyes,) on her face than anything her body had done until then. “You can let me check out here where no one is paying attention, or we can do it closer to the light. I don’t care,” Daddy bent her over and checked at that time.   Cait peeked up through the top of her head at the lady to see if she was frowning, but she still had a smile.   The woman seems to be measuring something about her, she didn’t wheel her around and lift her skirt to look for a mess in her panties. Cait tensed her legs and squeezed her legs together hoping she wasn’t going to.   She didn’t stare at her crotch trying to decide if a shadow or a darkened spot was pee or not. Cait put her hands in front of her, hoping to cover any deep shadows that peeing might have made on her dress from peeing in her sleep.   Eiboline’s gaze did go from her from foot to head, but her eyes rested on Cait’s eyes, not her stained clothes or her crotch where even if the woman didn’t see it, Cait knew that her panties were cooling and clammy from a little pre-pee pee that wanted to start—again, for a third time. She was too scared to tell her she had to go yet, though.   The wetness of the earlier little drizzle that stopped before it became a real pee pee pulled at her insides like she knew she was going to get caught even if it was only real pee pee, if it showed and everyone saw the wet….   Especially if it was a puddle on the floor…. Cait knew that was…. Her thoughts were interrupted.   “You’ve grown,” the woman whispered.   Cait’s feet shuffled on the ground, her left kicking at the ground. She’d grown from last time the woman saw her, a woman she doesn’t remember, a woman that was about to realize she peed her pants in the car, maybe know it happened twice.   “The last time I saw you, you were about this big,” and she bent down showing her hand to about half the girl’s height. “Your mama had you in a pram.”   Cait looked up and something about the way she was talking to her was different.   She wasn’t telling Cait to do something. She wasn’t trying to make her tell her something like she was bad—or something.   She was… almost talking to the young girl like… like the lady herself was a kid or… something.   Cait shook and looked at the ground, afraid that in some way, she might be breaking the rules. Maybe she made the lady talk to her like this? Grownups are hard to get. “The pram is broken,” Cait whispered.   “Oh? Whatever happened to it?” Cait saw the lady stand up and as she did so, she moved her hands towards Cait, but both of her hands cupped her face for a moment, and then moved her hair back around her ears, as if she was trying to see her blue eyes or her freckles.   “Last year, my big sisters had to move some big rocks for dad in the field. They used it as a wheel-thingy like you use to move dirt and stuff, and it got stuck and two wheels broke off and then the pushing handle part bent.”   The kind woman, with all of her grandma wrinkles in her face, smiled at Cait and nodded. “Well, how about we come inside for some lemonade, pet?”   “Pet?” Cait looked up at her frowning.   The lady smiled and reached for her back, but Cait stepped back from her and ducked.   She didn’t want the pretty, glide-y, almost float-angel woman getting too close.   What if Cait smells bad, or Cait might not be clean enough for the woman’s hands to touch?   “It’s okay,” the woman walked towards the door in front of Cait and then she opened it.   “I’m Sure they told you my name,” she whispered. “But just to make sure, I am Eiboline, your mom’s cousin.”   Cait cautiously looked up at her holding the door open.   “Cait,” she looked down after telling her name. “Yeah. Daddy says to call you Auntie or Aunt Evie. He says I’m too dumb to get your name right because we practiced, but I can’t say it right.”   Eiboline smiled and squatted down to Cait’s height.   “Well, a lot of American girls have trouble with Gaelic names. It’s not just you. You grew up over here, but your Mam and I, we grew up in Ireland. Your name is Gaelic, too, you know?”   “I wondered about that,” Cait put her finger on her chin. The lady smelled like something with flowers and something like a lemon-thingy. It was a nice smell. It wasn’t Mama’s flower smell, but it was nice.   “My classmates always say it since Kindergarten—that I spell my name wrong, and then when they hear my name said, they said ‘meow.’”   “Children are imaginative, but no, Cait, your name isn’t Cat, either. The sound is different. When they say meow at you, remind them that they forgot the ‘it’ sound hidden with it. It’s Cah-it, not cat, pet.”   Cait looked down. “I don’t think anyone would wait for me. It’s just a name and if they like you, you talk, and if they don’t, they walk away and find someone else.”   Cait shrugged like she was saying it didn’t matter. But it did. She knew she was dumb, but she did spell her name right.   “I guess I forgot what school was like,” Auntie Eiboline sighed.   Cait looked up into her eyes for a moment. She had something shiny at the moment in her eye, and she looked towards the house door. Cait didn’t know why she seemed to have such shiny eyes, but grownups were strange sometimes.   “Of course, school might be a little different too, from the old country and this world. Still. Let’s get you that lemonade. American born girls do like lemonade, right?”   The young girl nodded and walked in ahead of the aged cousin, definitely understanding why Daddy told her to call her Auntie, out of (be-spect). If Cait had just met her with no telling her what to say, she might call her grandmother.   They walked right into an Entrance that had stairs going up to a balcony and then right through to the kitchen and a doorway into the living room from the kitchen. The back door was immediately across from the front door, though the space it took to cross it was definitely a few steps from entering the large hall, past the steps, and through the kitchen.   “You have a farm?” Cait looked up at the woman whose hair glowed in the bright kitchen. “I didn’t see any wheat or corn or nothing on the way.” She didn’t say it smelled like something like… she didn’t know a word for it.   Two large windows cascaded light into the space in a way that her own home back in Missouri did not.   “Yes, we do,” Auntie Evie, wait! That name isn’t her at all. It’s not queen-like like her.   Even if her name is hard, Cait decided she’d try to get used to the name of Eiboline. She whispered. Eye-boll-ine? No, that’s not right...”   She was nice about Cait’s name, explaining that it didn’t even sound like the animal. The nice Auntie or cousin went on.   “Sean, my husband, has been running a Dairy farm from since before I met him. He inherited it from his family.”   “Day-lee farm?” Cait looked up at her. As she took in the new word before she tried Auntie’s name again. Aye-ba-ine? That sounds closer.   “That’s right. That’s why you don’t see much in the way of grown things. We do grow a few things, actually, but most of the field is for animals. We have mostly cows of course because it is a dairy farm.”   The window to the left of the preparation area with the stove and sink really threw the sunlight in the room like it belonged there, and when it glowed on Auntie Eiboline, the lady looked even more queen-like, almost like a fairy queen.   In contrast, the nearly windowless kitchen in Cait’s own home never made her mom look good at all.   The kitchen at home was dingy. The kitchen table was always cluttered. There were stains on the floor from Cait being Cait, and it smelled almost as much like a bathroom in use as a bathroom; and that was Cait’s fault.   “Why don’t you sit, pet?” Eiboline’s voice whispered naturally, as though it had always been soft and easy on the ears.   “Don’t you even think about it—fully sitting in that chair?” a dark voice whispered in her ear. “Do you want your aunt to think you want to pee in her chairs like you do at home? Remember, sitting just far enough on the edge that makes you look like you are doing what they tell you gives the pee a better chance of reaching the floor instead of the seat—if it happens again.”   “I know,” Cait whispered at her little ghost. “Stop. I know, okay?”   Cait sat, carefully, on the edge of the chair, anxious and adjusting herself for the failure she knew would come—probably before Daddy left.   She watched as the kind beautiful grace-walking queen poured something from a small jug into a glass—filling it maybe just enough to cover the bottom. The teacher would called it a fraction, but Cait shook her head at the idea of math.   She just knew it was less than half, maybe less than a one on a three or maybe even less than a one over four. Or… was that a one over a four is bigger than a one on three? Four is bigger than three. No, if the number on the bottom is bigger and the top number is the same, then it’s small? No, that doesn’t make sense. Cait shrugged. It was a small amount.   Then, the grandmother-Auntie-cousin person filled it with water. She held the glass for a moment as she continued to talk to her.   “So, how is your mammy doing?” Auntie Eiboline spoke kind of funny, but Cait liked it. It was refreshing, and it sounded more… smart… than other people.   “She was sick before. She threw up every day. But now, she’s feeling better. She’s more fat though than I think in the Spring. I know it’s because she has someone inside her, but how do you get a full-sized baby out of a someone who doesn’t even have an extra hole that big on their body?” Cait asked.   Auntie smiled and started to hand her the glass of drink after mixing it a moment with a metal spoon. “I looked at my own body. The pee-pee place is barely big enough for peeing to come out, and it seems gross to have a human baby pushing out when you’re pooping. How would that work? You poop your pants, and you get a baby?” Cait was still in mid-thought while she took the glass of juice.   Eiboline shook her head and smiled. “Cait,” her smile brightened for a moment. “Youth can be so innocent.”   Auntie’s eyes seemed to watch Cait for a moment before she went on. “It’s a little bit hard to explain, and I’m not sure it’s my place to explain it.”   Cait frowned. It meets again. Even people who don’t know her, know she’s stupid. Mommy and Daddy will tell them so the little lady doesn’t cause them trouble.   “I will tell you, though, that your baby brother or sister will not be pooped out, especially not into your Mama’s pants. Panties couldn’t hold a baby.”   “Yeah,” Cait agreed. “It would be really cramped for a baby to be stuck in your panties when it gets borned.” Cait’s finger went into her mouth. She looked seriously at Auntie. “Mommy won a prize, back in December at a school contest!”   “She did?” Eiboline saw Cait take a small sip of the lemonade.   “Yeah. She made the best pie.” Cait licked her lips. That was really good stuff! How she make it? Cait continued her story, though. “She won twelve jars of strawberry jam, and she won some money, so we all got ice cream to go with the pie that she made for us at home.”   “What did your dad think?”   “He didn’t like it. He said that the jam they gave us—and even the money mom got—barely paid for the stuff he had to buy. It wasted money, I think.”   Eiboline frowned a little, a word on her lips that she seemed to swallow instead.   “And your farm is doing all right?” Eiboline asked.   “I guess. But we didn’t cut the hay yet.”   “You’re late.”   Cait shrugged. She didn’t cut the hay so she didn’t care what Daddy was late with. She had food, and clothes, and a house, so if he was late with something, then he had his reasons.   I had chapter 5 posted, but it seemed to have been duplicated in the process, so I deleted and reposted it hoping to cut out the duplication.  

Je suis d’accord avec vous j’aime le design des vêtements anciens pour bébé, je cherche une salopette avec jambes en jeans Denim bleue avec élastique à la taille mais c’est pas évident d’en trouver. J’ai un jour commander sur Bigtots sur Etsy. C’est vraiment bien mais tous les articles sont en coton extensible.

I can't believe it's been a month, whoops, I've been way way busier than I normally am.   Yeap really really busy the past three weeks basically  It doesn't feel great.  It's just a vague fullness and needing to pee.  It feels much nicer empty.  Yeah I really push it.  Often absent mindedly.  If I l'm walking around I never need to push it but yes if I'm sitting or lying down it can fill up and I may have to push it to feel better. That's... amazing I know someone who has done this himself on people with other parts of the body to create permanent paralysis.  Why did I never connect this in my mind to the anus!  Wow... So how did this go for that person??  Do you know if they're bowel incontinent now and what the result has been?

Have you had any issues since? Also would you mind telling us more about your journey over the past 7 years?