enema | Billy's Enema

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Billy's Enema

Billy's mother brought a box of tissues into his bedroom and sat down on the young boy's bed. He had been in bed all day with a cold and was miserable and in a bad mood.

"How are you feeling, hon?" she asked, feeling his forehead with her hand and pushing a tuft of hair back out of his face, "Would you like some soup or something to drink?"  "No, Mom, I'm OK.  Just leave me alone for awhile and let me sleep," he said.

"All right, Billy, go back to sleep for awhile.  I'm going downstairs, and you call me if you need me," she said. "Oh, and your grandmother is coming over later."

Billy became instantly alert.  This was not good news. His eyes opened wide. "Why?" he demanded, "Why is she coming over, Mom?"

"We're going to give you an enema, Billy.  You know how you get when you're not feeling well," said his mother.  "I KNEW IT!  HALF THE TIME WHEN SHE COMES OVER HERE YOU WIND UP GIVING ME AN ENEMA!  I DON'T WANT TO HAVE AN ENEMA, MOM," the boy complained, his face reddening as he pulled the covers up to his neck.

"Nonsense, Billy, you know you don't get an enema very often.  I know they're a little uncomfortable, but it will be over before you know it.  Now you go to sleep and I'll let you know when she gets here," she said.  "NO," he shouted, turning away from her, fidgeting as she left the room, "I DON'T NEED AN ENEMA, MOMMA, PLEASE DON'T GIVE ME ONE!  CAN'T YOU JUST GIVE ME A LAXATIVE?" Without answering, she patted his shoulder and left the room. Soon, he dropped off into a fretful sleep.

Billy woke to the sounds of activity across the hall.  His bed was near the door and he could see into the bathroom and guestroom where his mother and grandmother were unpacking a small suitcase. He pretended to be asleep.

Billy's mother brought the coat rack from her bedroom and placed it beside the bed in the guestroom.  He knew that the enema bag would hang from the highest bracket "Laura, would you go to the kitchen and bring me your big pitcher?" asked his grandmother.  As his mother disappeared to the kitchen, the grandmother continued to prepare for the enema.  She went to the linen closet in the bathroom and pulled out the dreaded red enema bag.  She inspected the tubing and fittings, and Billy saw her replace the large douche nozzle with the smaller enema nozzle.

The grandmother withdrew a large jar of Vaseline from her case and unscrewed the top.  Then out came a thermometer.  She took the thermometer from its case, looked at it and shook it down.  She then stuck the business end into the jar of Vaseline and left it.

Billy was horrified.  His mother hadn't taken his temperature that way since he was little and he hated it when his grandmother insisted on doing it.  His face grew beet red as he remembered the embarrassment.

Laura returned with the pitcher and a bar of Ivory soap, and turned on the water in the bathtub.  Holding her hand under the stream, she waited until the water was warm enough and filled the pitcher about ¾ full. She then unwrapped the bar of soap and dropped it into the water and left it to soften.  After a few minutes she reached into the pitcher and worked the soap around to make it dissolve faster.  She withdrew it and Billy saw that the bar of soap was significantly smaller than when it went into the water.

Billy's grandmother went to the guest room bed and turned down the covers.  She then took a large plastic sheet and spread it out on the bed and covered it with a smaller white sheet.  She returned to the suitcase and took out a wooden hairbrush and laid it on the table.  Billy recalled with a jolt that his grandmother was a stern disciplinarian and that on one occasion he had acted up when as she was inserting the nozzle and she had quietly taken him from the bed to the straight chair, sat down and pulled him over her lap and, as she said, "tanned his fanny" with that hairbrush.  He winced at the thought and uncomfortably shifted in bed.

"Laura, why don't you wake Billy now, I'm going to take his temperature," Billy heard his grandmother instruct.

Laura entered the bedroom.  Billy was still feigning sleep.  "Wake up, hon, Grandmommy's here," she said as she gently shook his shoulder.  Billy opened his eyes and complained, "Mom, let me sleep!".  She then reached to lower the covers and Billy grabbed them.  "Stop that, Billy!" Laura exclaimed.  "Grandmommy's going to take your temperature and we have to uncover your bottom."

"MOMMA, I'M 14 YEARS OLD!  DON'T TAKE MY TEMPERATURE THERE, PLEASE," Billy cried out.  His grandmother appeared at the door with the big jar of Vaseline and the thermometer.  "Billy, I have to take your temperature in your bottom so I can tell how high your fever is.  I might need to cool the enema water a bit," said his grandmother gently.  "Now let Mommy lower the sheets and you turn over and show me your bottom," she instructed.  Reluctantly, Billy complied, remembering the hairbrush that had been placed on the table.

Billy turned over as his mother drew back the sheets.  His grandmother placed the Vaseline on his bedside table and bent over the boy's upturned bottom and gently pulled down his pajamas to expose the boy's pale white but muscular buttocks.  "My, Billy's really growing up," she said to Laura as she noted the firmness of the boy's posterior. Billy's ears burned with embarassment.

Billy watched as his grandmother withdrew the thermometer from the jar of lubricant.  There was a big glob of petroleum jelly on the end that was to go into his rectum. "All right, Billy, now you just settle down while I put this in," she instructed.  Bending over the boy, she reached down and placed her thumb and forefinger between his buttocks and spread them apart.  "Don't clench, Billy," she said.  "I have to get down in here to put it in."  Billy could feel her spread his cheeks wide apart.  She always spread so that "the pink" showed before she inserted the thermometer or enema nozzle.  He felt the coldness of the petroleum jelly and then the tip of the thermometer met his anus and continued into the boy's rectum.  His mother stood on the other side of his bed with a tissue in her hand as she watched the process.  After reseating the thermometer she held it securely.

"It doesn't have to be a big enema, does it, Grandmommy?" plead the young teenager.  He knew not to be argumentative with her as he recalled the wooden hairbrush in the guestroom.  "Yes, Billy, it has to be a big enema," the older lady replied as she patted his shoulder.    Billy had already known it would.  A couple of times when he was younger she had agreed to give him an enema with the bulb but she had not been happy with the results.  The boy involuntarily squeezed his butt cheeks.  Billy began to be upset.  "PLEASE GRANDMOMMY, NOT A BIG ONE, AND PLEASE DON'T USE SOAP," he cried.  "Billy," she said, "You know I'm going to use soap and you know it's going to be a big enema, but if it hurts too much I'll stop it running in for a minute while you get used to it.  You need it, and I want you to behave yourself or there's going to be a trip across my knee for a spanking." The boy knew not to press his luck.

The grandmother removed the thermometer from Billy's rectum and read it.  "He does have a temperature, but not enough to warrant cooling down the enema," she told Laura as she reached to again spread the boy's buttocks for Laura to wipe the lubricant from the boy's bottom.  "All right, Billy.  You can pull your pajamas up now and just stay here while your mother and I finish getting your enema ready."

Laura and her mother returned to the bathroom to fill the bag.  "Mother, how full should the bag be?  I think the last enema he had was a little over a quart."  "Yes," said the grandmother, "But the rule of thumb is that when they are fully developed ‘up front' they're ready for a full bag.  Billy has grown quite a bit and his system is probably mature enough for two quarts, but I'd better check him first." Billy had been watching television and was not aware of what was being decided.

Laura called Billy to come into the bathroom.  "Honey," she said, pull down your pajamas so we can check you up front."  Horrified, Billy cried out, "UP FRONT?  WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SEE UP FRONT? NO NO NO NO!!!! ^$#&*$(*, I WANT MY DAD TO DO THIS.  HE CAN SEE BUT YOU CAN'T!  NO WAY AM I GOING TO SHOW YOU." "Young man," said the older woman, "I am going to take your pants down and check you, and then I'm going to get that hairbrush and have a little chat with your fanny."  She took Billy by the arm and pulled his pants down, exposing the boy's front as he squirmed and tried to get away.  Both women were taken aback by the extent of the boy's development. "Two quarts, Laura," she said as she took Billy into the guestroom for a spanking.  She sat down in the straight chair and picked up the hairbrush as she pulled Billy over her knee and carefully positioned him.  He realized his predicament.  Bare bottom, head down near the floor and butt up in position for the spanking, legs kicking, the grandmother took the hairbrush and gave him a thorough spanking, concentrating on the low butt crease, the dreaded "sit spot".  "I'M SORRY, REALLY I AM, I WON'T ACT UP AGAIN GRANDMOMMY," he cried as she continued the spanking.  She didn't spank as hard as she did long, so his bottom never got beyond pink.  Finally she completed the boy's spanking and helped him up.  His face was red from crying and embarrassment.  His bottom really didn't hurt much, as his grandmother had been intentionally easy on him.  She gave him a quick hug and sent him back to his room.

Laura had filled the red enema bag and hung it, bulging, at the top section of the coat rack that had been placed by the bed.  The grandmother made sure that the air was out of the long tube and clamped the hose shut.  She then returned to Billy's room to get the Vaseline. Gently, she laid her hand on the teenager's sheet-covered bottom.  "Billy, your enema is ready.  Take your pajamas off and put on a T-shirt and come to the guestroom."

Billy did as he was told, feeling very naked with just the T-shirt and nothing covering his private areas.  Suddenly, it dawned on him that he could hide his front from the women and still keep his bottom bare if he put on the jock strap that his dad had bought for him when he was 13-as he called it, kind of a "rite of passage."  He retrieved it from his drawer and put it on, carefully adjusting the leg straps to fit under his buttocks.  His low butt crease was still a bit sore from the spanking, but it would be worth it to keep from having them see his front again.

He went to the guestroom and lay down on the bed.  His grandmother pulled his T-shirt up to his shoulders and saw the jockstrap.  "Take it off, Billy," said the older lady.  "BUT MY BOTTOM IS BARE, GRANDMOMMY, YOU CAN PUT THE ENEMA IN WITH IT ON!  THIS IS SO EMBARASSING!" She chuckled, "I know, Billy, but it has to come off.  It comes together down where I have to insert the tube, and besides, it would only get wet and greasy from when I use the Vaseline."  She turned Billy onto his back and removed the athletic supporter, and noted that Billy's substantial private parts had hardly been contained by it. She would tell Laura to get her husband to refit Billy with a larger one.

"Now turn over onto your tummy, Hon, and let Grandmommy see your backside," his grandmother instructed as she dipped the enema nozzle into the jar of Vaseline to lubricate it.  Again, she pried Billy's pale, muscular buttocks apart very wide, exposing the pink fleshy part of the boy's anus and deftly inserted the rectal tube.  The boy felt naked under the watchful eyes of the two women.

"Now Hon, stay still and breathe deeply when I start the enema.  And remember, you have to hold it inside you for 5 minutes after it's all in." With the tube going in between the boy's deeply cleft cheeks, Billy heard the fateful "click" of the clamp opening.  He felt the warm water relentlessly flooding his rectum.  As the soapy water rushed in, the boy cried out  "PLEASE TAKE IT OUT! OWWW! I CAN'T HOLD IT GRANDMOMMY!"
 

"Settle down now, Billy, there's a lot to go.  You're a big boy now and I have to put the whole bag in so the enema will do some good." The older lady rested her hand on the boy's naked buttocks as he clenched them together to help hold the enema in.  As the bag emptied into Billy's rectum she occasionally closed the clamp as the cramps grew stronger.  "Just a little more, Billy," she coaxed.  She helped the boy hold his enema by squeezing his buttocks together.  "Just a little more, just a little more."

Finally the enema bag was completely empty.  Billy fussed and fretted as he tried to keep the two quarts of water inside.  His grandmother withdrew the nozzle and again squeezed his butt cheeks together as the minutes went by.  Billy begged to be allowed to go to the bathroom.  At long last the 5 minutes were up and he was allowed to get up and run to the adjoining bathroom to evacuate the soapy enema. As the water flooded out of him in full view of his mother and grandmother, he was at least grateful for the T-shirt that provided some covering for his otherwise naked body.

"Don't flush," said the older lady, "I'll check to see how you did in a minute."

Finally, after several waves of elimination, Billy told Laura that he had finished.  His grandmother came and checked the results of the enema.  She frowned.  Meanwhile, relieved that it was over, Billy pulled his T-shirt down to cover his private parts and went back to his bedroom and put on a pair of briefs and lay back down in the bed.  He was still embarrassed and turned on the television for some distraction.

John, Billy's father, drove into the garage and came into the house via the back door.  "I'm home!" he called.  "Up here, Honey," Laura called back.  A moment later Billy's father came into the room, still dressed from his tennis match.  "How're you feeling, Son?" he asked.  "Terrible," grouched Billy.  He was glad that at least his dad had not been there for his enema.  Though John and Billy saw quite a bit of each other nude, because they shared the same bathroom, the enema was somehow different and humiliating.

Billy's grandmother came into the room with a tube of ointment.  "Pull your pants down, Billy, so I can put some of this ointment on your bottom.  "GRANDMOMMY!  JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!  I DON'T WANT TO PULL MY PANTS DOWN ANY MORE! Dad, make her leave!" cried Billy.

"Settle down, Son," soothed the father as the older lady again pulled down the covers and turned Billy over and lowered his briefs, again exposing Billy's bottom.  Coating her finger with ointment, she spread the hapless boy's cheeks and applied the soothing ointment to his anus. John chuckled.  "I know what you're going through, Boy, my own mom put me through that plenty of times."  Then the grandmother rubbed some of the ointment into Billy's pink bottom.  "I had to spank him," she told John.  "He got a little uppity."  Then she turned toward Billy and said, "Don't worry, Billy, the NEXT enema won't be as hard to hold.  The results weren't very good, so I'm going to repeat it.  John, maybe you can help get Billy to behave for me.  Will you take his pants off and bring him in?  The bag is ready…" Billy groaned, resigned to his fate…     THE END

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