I can still remember the first time that my mother made me go to the bathroom rather than letting nature have its way. We were at my mother's aunt's summer place on a lake and my mother had me in the bathroom seated on the toilet and she was telling me that I had to go. Just don't sit there. Push. You're not trying. No wonder you have a stomach ache. You have to go when you get the feeling. Why did you put it off? You are really going to make yourself sick. Push harder. If you don't try, I am going to have to get something to make you go. You are being stubborn.
At that point my mother's aunt Mary came into the scene and asked whether I was having a problem going to the bathroom. My mother said yes and maybe you would watch him while I run to town to get something to make him go. Her aunt said you don't have to do that. You can do the same thing that your grandmother did when we had a problem going when we were growing up. What's that asked my mother. Her aunt said put soap up his hiney. My mother said does it work and her aunt said never failed with me.
By this point I am saying I'll go. Don't put soap in my hiney. I had memories of the beginning of the summer when I said a word that I must have learned in kindergarten that my mother didn't like and she put soap on a washcloth and made me stick out my tongue, which she soaped. I could still remember the stinging.
Auntie Mary left the bathroom and came back with a knife and went to the soap dish and got the bar of Zest soap (I remember because it was blue and at home soap was always white) and cut down the side of it and then cut that in half. She said he should only need one although mom sometimes had to use two when we were very blocked.
She said just push him across your knees and then push the stick up him as far as you can. I'm yelling I'll go, don't do it and my mother picks me up, sits on the toilet and puts me across her legs. Auntie Mary wets the stick and hands it to my mother and it slips to the floor. My mother tells me to hold still or I am getting a spanking. No matter what I did that soap was going up my hiney. She pushed the stick in me and stands me up. At first I don't feel anything and then start to cry. It hurts. It burns. Get it out. I'll go. My mother says don't be a baby. Push. You have to push hard. Her aunt said just let him sit there. He'll go.
In about ten minutes I had an overwhelming urge but I stand up and cross my legs and try to stop it. It hurts coming out. My mother said sit down and push and get this over with. It's what you get for not going the first time you have the feeling. Why would you ever not go for four days? Sit down and push! She put me on the toilet. Then the urge was beyond overwhelming and I went. The sting from the soap in my ass lasted a couple of hours after I went. Auntie Mary came back with a piece of plastic wrap and said we'll wrap this other piece and save it in the vanity in case he needs help again. Two days later my mother had it up my ass saying we're not letting you go that long again. .I'm crying and she is saying didn't I tell you that you have to go as soon as you get the feeling. Start listening to me.
A few years later we were at a birthday party and my mother scooped me up to take me home saying you are out of control. When we got home she said you need a soap-stick. I screamed I didn't and flew to hide under my bed. She got me out carried me to the bathroom got my ass exposed and gave me a wallop with a hairbrush and then pushed the soap up me. Ten minutes later she wanted to know if I pooped yet but I hadn't. She cut another piece of soap. I started to cry. She said this is what happens when you don't do what you need to do.
Then one day she took me into the bathroom and there was a jar of Squibb glycerin suppositories on the sink. Again she got me across he knees and pushed a suppository up my ass. I did what I had to do in ten minutes. I liked them much better because they did not sting.
When I was around eleven I was over my aunt's house on a Saturday morning when she walked into the family room where I was watching TV with my cousin who was about nine. She was carrying a blue jar and I knew they were Squibb glycerin suppositories. My stomach churned because my mother told me that I was getting one when she returned from shopping and had bought a new jar. Instead my aunt told my cousin that she wanted to take care of his problem and he pushed down his sweats and underwear and pulled his legs to his belly and she went over and pushed a suppository up his ass.
Then she looked at me and said your mother told me that you have a problem too. Why don't we take care of that now. I said that's okay. My aunt said to my cousin get up and let Bryan get there. Like a sheep to slaughter I got on the couch and pushed down my jeans and briefs and pulled back my legs as my cousin had and my aunt pushed the suppository up me. My cousin started to leave. My aunt asked where are you going. He said I have t poop. She said you have to hold it longer for it to really help you. You know that.
My cousin went and I was still sitting there. My aunt said are you feeling it. I said no. My aunt said your mother told me you were not responding the way you should. I better give you another one. That was my mother. The state of my bowels was never very private. My aunt knew about it. My grandmother knew about it. My grandmother was always trying to have m mother give me an enema convinced that I was like my uncle, too lazy to make myself go. My grandmother had given my mother an enema once and my mother hated it so I was in no danger. . My aunt got the suppository and I supplanted my cousin on the couch and got my jeans down and my legs up and back and she pushed another suppository up me. In about five minutes I was going.
Once when I was twelve I was going for a haircut and my mother said I'll pick you up. She picked me up and said I have to stop in Hunters which was our downtown drugstore. We get there and she tells Mr. Hunter that I have not been responding to glycerin suppositories very well and he said some people are like that. He asked my mother did she want to stick with suppositories or did she want to try something else. My mother wanted to continue with suppositories. I was turning red during this encounter. Then h looked at me and wanted to know how old I was and I said twelve.
Mr. Hunter got this little box that turned out to contain two Dulcolax suppositories. He told my mother these should do the trick although they are a bit expensive. Just make sure he holds them for twenty minutes. When we got home my mother said let's get one up you so we went into the bathroom and I dropped my shorts and briefs and my mother un-peeled a suppository and sat on the toilet and I bent across her knees and she pushed one up me saying we're going to have to find another way the next time you need one you are too big fitting across my knees.
In about ten minutes I really had to go and my mother is saying hold it, fight it, The urge and the cramps were overwhelming. In another couple minutes I said if I don't go I'm going to go in my pants. My mother said hold it. I said I can't. She let me go and I shit like I never had before in my life.
After that she made me kneel on my bed and she would push one up me. Then when I was around fifteen she told me that I was big enough to do this by myself. She put a box of suppositories on my computer desk. Sometimes she would tell me you better use a suppository when you go to your room. This didn't bother me because for the last few years I had been getting intense hard-ons when the Dulcolax was working. When my mother put one up my ass she was always checking to see whether it was working so I couldn't jerk myself off. Putting a suppository up my ass on my own always allowed me to jerk off. My mother would never think of coming into my room when my door was closed. The jerk offs were so great I even started to use Dulcolax when I wasn't constipated so I would get the throbbing boner.
