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An Enema Story

   In my early teen years, I palled around with guy named Larry Snyder. 
He lived with his mother and his aunt, Gertrude Webber.  Gertrude was a
principal at an elementary school in our city.  She was the sole support
and indisputable head of that small three-person family.  Gertrudeıs build
was thin and angular, her manners were impeccable, her English was
perfect, and her demands for Larryıs behavior were without compromise.

When my parents went out for a late weekend evening, I was Larryıs
guest overnight.  Larry and I got along well and his aunt and mom were
nice to me.

I met Larry at school in the first days of our seventh grade.  In that
we lived only a block apart, we often walked to and from school together. 
Early in our acquaintanceship, Larry remarked that he had had a stomach
ache the previous evening and he had been given what he called a
Washing.  A big red rubber bag with a long hose, you know?
   An enema.  I suggested, with considerable interest.  I asked who had
given it to him.
   My aunt and my mom. Larry answered.
   Did you like it? I asked.  In that the question was so unexpected,
the boy was taken aback by its directness.
   He stumbled a bit, but answered Well, kind of...
   Oh, I interrupted, I enjoy a good, warm, soapy enema.  It always
makes me feel so healthy.  I went on telling Larry how my mother used a
black open-top bag, how she had me lie on my tummy, and how I enjoyed the
whole procedure.  I asked him a lot about the enema heıd received the
previous evening ‹ like how big was it, the position he was required to
take while getting it, if it had soap, and if it worked very well.  He
warmed to the subject enjoying his telling, in great detail, all about it.
   As the kid and I got to be better friends, we talked about all the
usual stuff pubescent boys discuss, like masturbation, which we called
jacking off, heterosexual sex, of course, although it would be a long,
long time before we had that experience, and enemas.  
   I was the first to volunteer the fact that an enema made my cock long
and hard.  Larry was eager to remark that his, too, got stiff when he got
an enema and that, sometimes as he got the treatment, heıd shoot.  If he
didnıt do that, he told me, heıd jack off as he was emptying out.
   Doesnıt your mom say something if you shoot while youıre getting an
enema? I asked in amazemenent.
   No. he replied, besides, itıs usually my aunt who gives me an enema,
and I donıt think she knows it happens.  In that Larry's aunt was too
sharp to miss much, I had trouble believing that.
   One Friday evening of a weekend in which I was the guest of Larry and
his family, we went to a movie at a neighborhood theater.  We enjoyed the
show so much that, when we got around to the place where weıd come in,
Larry suggested we just sit through to the end.
   I dunno,  I remarked.  Your aunt just might be upset.  You told her
weıd come right home after this show.  Sheıll probably beat the shit out
of you! I said, only half in jest.
   Ah, fuck her!  said he in a most arrogant tone.
   I donıt think so, big-shot, said I.  Sheıll fuck you with a wire brush!
   Nah.  Youıre fulla shit!²  Insisted the kid.  Sheıll have no way of
knowing how long the movie was, anyway.
   I said nothing else, although I knew heıd underestimated the smart
Gertrude Webber and I wasnıt too pleased about being told I wasnıt seeing
the matter accurately.
   When we did get home, Larryıs aunt and mother greeted us as we entered
the apartment.  That was the last his mom would say to us, absenting
herself from what followed.  Good evening, Thomas, Miss Webber said
politely.  And to you too, Lawrence.  You do know, of course, that youıre
late.
   It was a long movie. stated Larry, with chin a bit too far out and
manner a little too sure.
   Precisely.  I know how long it was.  Said Gertrude with an edge in
her voice.  Then, becoming clearly angry, she continued You would have
been home twenty-eight minutes ago, but you doubtless stayed beyond the
point at which you had come in.  You saw the ending a second time.  Did
you not?
   Well... started the boy, now bereft of the arrogance of a moment before.
   Did you not?  she fired like a pistol shot.  No matter, she said,
with quiet firmness.  You disobeyed me and I will now punish you.  I
would like to punish you, too, Thomas, but since youıre not my child, I
canıt.  However, I will ask you to allow me to impose a penalty.
   This scene of Gertrude Webberıs anger had me shaken.  I didnıt know
what to say.  I didnıt want to incur her disapproval, so I just answered
with a tentative Okay.
   Then, Lawrence, youıll go to your room, where youıll put on your gray
nightshirt  in which youıll receive a sound spanking and, Thomas, youıll
observe.
   Oh Hell, I thought, Iıd be delighted to see Larryıs ass tanned.  Heıd
been too damn cocky.  And, besides, Iıd get even with him for telling me I
was full of shit!
   Larry was now quite conciliatory as he pleaded with his aunt to not
spank him and to, please, not make me watch.  His pleas were, however, to
no avail.
   Get upstairs, Lawrence! his aunt demanded as she tilted her
wristwatch into view.  Prepare yourself for your much-deserved
punishment.  You have three minutes from...now!  Then, in a more kindly
tone, And, Thomas, you go along and get into your pajamas and robe.
   Larry and I said nothing as we got into our night attire and he took a
seat on one of the twin beds.  His expression was a mixture of fear and
respect as his aunt entered the room.  He pleaded, I know the lesson. 
You donıt have to spank me.  Please donıt.  Iıll never do that again.  I
promise.  Oh, please!  
   Oblivious to the boyıs begging, she sat down on the bed next to him and
demanded he lie across her lap.  She asked me to sit in a chair across the
room.  Larry did as he was instructed and his aunt lifted the tail of the
nightshirt exposing his bare buttocks.
   Lawrence she said, youıre being punished for disobedience and
arrogance.  Your tone when I asked you about your tardiness, was defiant. 
I canıt have that.  Were you trying to show your friend here how tough you
were?  Youıre not that tough, are you? she badgered.
   No.
   Then take your punishment like an adult!
   Increasing the suspense, Gertrude allowed a few long seconds to
elapse.  Then she dew back her hand almost as far as her shoulder would
allow, and she brought it down on Larry's butt with an explosive crack! 
Almost immediately, Larry yelped and again, his aunt whacked him ‹ hard. 
She then allowed three or four seconds to pass between spanks as she
continued to bring her open hand down on her nephewıs back side.
Whack...whack...whack until his butt was a rosy red and Larry was crying
loudly.  Finally, she stopped.
   I was aghast, but I noticed my young dick had developed a raging hard-on.
   She instructed the boy to stand as she handed an open box of tissues
from the night stand.  You know, Lawrence, your aunt loves you.  She
wants you to be a good, upstanding, humble person.
   Yes, maıam. responded the boy, still sobbing and sniffing.  Iım
sorry.  I love you, too, aunt Gertrude.  It was a tender moment as the
aunt hugged the sobbing adolescent.
   Now, we have another piece of business.  she said.  Your mother
tells me your bowels didnıt move today.  Or yesterday either, for that
matter.  Is that right?
   Yes, maıam.
   Then, you know Iım going to have to give you an enema and, Thomas, as
part of your continuing punishment, Iıll ask you to observe this event,
too.
   Again, I was very pleased.  Iıd never seen anyone get an enema and it
was with considerable enthusiasm ‹ which I believe I successfully hid ‹
that I responded Of course, Miss Webber.
   Get the footstool from the living room, Lawrence.  Thomas, do you need
to go to the bathroom?  When I responded to the negative, Miss Webber
instructed me to follow her into the bathroom where she gestured toward a
short stool on which I seated myself.  
     This was, obviously, a routine Larry was used to.  Heıd mentioned the
footstool once when he was telling me about an enema heıd received, but I
didnıt quite understand just how it fit in.  Momentarily, he reappeared
with the thing and placed it in the middle of the bathroom floor.  From
the linen closet, he took a part of an old plastic table cloth and a
towel, which he placed, plastic first, over the footstool.  Concurrent to
this business, Miss Webber was removing from a drawer under the linen
cabinet, the only thing in there, a dark red open-top enema syringe, with
dark red hose and short, stubby, black nozzle.  
   The boy sat on the footstool while his aunt ran water into the tub,
regulated it for temperature, and half-filled the enema bag.  From the
soap dish, she took a fresh bar of Ivory and immersed it in the bag.  For
a few long minutes, she worked the soap in her hand, dissolving a goodly
amount in solution.  She then filled the bag to over-
flowing and I saw rich, thick suds spill down the side.
   As she hung the bag on a hook next to the medicine cabinet and sat on
the toilet seat lid, she instructed her nephew to Take the position
now.   The boy knelt at the end of the stool and lay across its length. 
He grasped the feet on the end opposite his knees.
   I had a clear view of Larryıs still quite red butt as Miss Webber
flipped the tail of the nightshirt up, swiped that stubby nozzle in a jar
of Vaseline, and placed the greased thing against his anus.  Ready,
honey?  she asked.
   In a soft voice that cracked as though his throat needed clearing, he
answered Oh, yes.  Then with clarity,  Yes, please, Aunt Gertrude!
   With a twisting, pushing motion, she inserted the nozzle.  My raging
hard-on had returned as the woman clicked open the clamp.  The snap seemed
to startle the boy.  She partially pinched the hose and I could barely
notice the emptying of the syringe as she softly encouraged her young
patient.
   Youıre doing so well, sweetheart, sheıd say. Youıll feel so much
better when itıs over.  Enemas arenıt pleasant, I know, but constipationıs
miserable, isnıt it?  Aunt Gertrude wants you to feel well.²
   Oh, yes.  I know you do.  Really.  said the boy.  Evidently,  he
appeared to be struggling to take it, his grip on the front feet of the
stool tightening as if in some desperation.
   I know itıs hard, honey.  Since youıve been constipated for two days,
I put a lot of soap in this time and that makes it difficult, but you know
itıs necessary to properly wash out those poisons.  Take deep breaths,
now.  Does Thoması presence make you nervous?
   No, said Larry ‹ between gasps ‹ with a tone of slight surprise. 
It's okay.  But, please stop it for a minute!
   Of course, dear.  assured Gertrude as she tightly pinched the
tubing.  After what was probably a full minute, she allowed a slow
infusion to resume.  I noticed her face was a bit flushed and her
expression one of contentment.  She seemed to be enjoying the task as she
very slowly gave Larry his enema.   With my hands in my bathrobe pockets,
playing with my hard cock, I was enjoying the spectacle.
   In what had probably been a good fifteen minutes from the time she
started giving the cleansing, Larry seemed to be relaxing.  Heıd taken
almost half of the bag.  He took a little more before advising he could
hold no more.  
   Iıll help you. said Gertrude as she snapped the shut-off closed and
pressed the nozzle more tightly against the boyıs anus.  She gripped his
buttocks, pinching them together.  She, almost imperceptibly and very
slowly, slid the nozzle almost all the way out.  Then she reinserted it.
   I watched with great interest and excitement as she moved the thing
very slowly in and out a few more times.  In a short time, Larry seemed
once again to relax.  
   Okay now honey? she inquired.
   Yes.  Itıs better.
   Snap!  She released the clamp, the enema flowed unimpeded by her
pinching fingers and Larry did some grunting! 
   At first, I didnıt understand, but I soon perceived Larry was coming! 
He was having orgasm right into the towel under his dick.  He was fairly
quiet about it, but he still let out some rhythmic sounds for more than a
few seconds.  I saw the hose in his rectum wiggle and his aunt remark
Thatıs fine, Lawrence.  Take your enema.
   Oh, I... was all he said.
   Thatıs fine, honey  his aunt, interrupting, assured him.  I wasnıt
quite sure why.  If I saw Larry having orgasm I thought, surely, Gertrude
did too.  But maybe not.  She clicked shut the clamp but continued to
press the nozzle against the boyıs anus for a good minute or maybe even a
little longer.  Now, she continued, slowly withdrawing the nozzle and
placing it up in the washbowl, you may get up and expel.  
   She stood up, flipped the seat lid open and Larry, holding the towel
over his lap, stepped over to the toilet, sat down and began expelling.
   You'll stay with Lawrence wonıt you, Thomas?²  
   As I agreed to the ladyıs wishes, I decided that, one day, Iıd like it
if I could get her to give me an enema!

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