Foreign Affairs

by Tom

Old Mrs. Knox died and the realtors boards went up on her house. It was pretty old, it had two stories and a sort of pointed tower on the top and it was pretty tumbledown. It looked like nobody was ever going to buy it and mom got pretty worked up about that - she said that it wasn't good for our property to have an empty house beside it for such a long time. I think they gave up eventually, because one day the boards changed to "For Rent", and shortly after that the McLoonies moved in.

Their name was McClurie, but my version seemed better. Mrs. McClurie was a big woman who spent most of her time screaming at her brood of monsters - four of them, neatly spaced at ages two, four, six and eight and wild as they came. She also seemed to have some attachment to the letter B, because their names were Billy, Bobby, Bart and Baby in descending order.

Baby was always gooey. She seemed to feed him on jelly, honey and chocolate because he was always covered in one or the other. Most of the time he just ran round with no clothes on - I suppose it saved on laundry, but it wasn't very nice.

The other B's were from the same mould. They were always scruffy and it looked like they never got washed - and neither did their clothes. They played outside long after it was dark and drove mom and me mad by bouncing their ball against our house. It made no difference if mom shouted at them - I suppose they were pretty used to that.

One day mom and I went shopping. I helped unload the car and we were carrying the things into the house when we were suddenly splattered with water. I looked up and saw the two oldest Bs standing in the window of the tower and for one awful moment I thought that they were pissing on us. Then I saw that it was just water - Billy had a rubber pipe in his hand that seemed to be fed from a big rubber bag of water that Bobby was holding up. He was chortling with glee as we ran into the house followed by the jet of water.

Mom slammed the door shut. Her face was red with anger as she leaned against it.

"That woman! It's bad enough that she gives those kids enemas all the time, but to let them play with the filthy thing! George - I want you to go to your room and take off every stitch you're wearing, then take a shower. Right now, please.

"Mom, it's only a little water. It will soon dry."

"NOW!"

I fled to my room, wondering just what had gotten into mom. I shed my clothes and ducked into the shower. Then I heard mom come in to my bathroom.

"I'm just taking your things, honey. Sorry I shouted at you."

I peered round the shower curtain to see mom with a large garbage bag. The surprising thing was that she was wearing rubber gloves as she picked up my clothes. I retreated back under the hot water, wondering just what the hell was going on.

When I was dried and dressed, I went back to the kitchen to find that mom had taken a shower too - she was wearing her robe and toweling her hair. It was totally incomprehensible to me.

"Mom? What's going on?"

She looked the way moms always look when you ask an adult question.

"Oh - that water seemed a little dirty to me. I thought we had better have a good wash."

"Why did you wear rubber gloves?"

"To stop my hands getting dirty."

Then I remembered what she had said.

"What's an enema?"

Mom sighed.

"You don't know?"

"I never heard the word before."

For a while I thought she was just going to ignore the question. Then her expression changed.

"I'm sorry, George, I keep forgetting that you aren't a child any more."

I preened myself. Fourteen is the age where you really are neither one nor the other and it was real nice to hear mom confirm my adult status. I followed as she stood up and walked into the living room.

She fingered the spines of the books.

"Now where is it? I know we've got an ancient Home Doctor somewhere."

Then she pulled out the book and opened it on the table. I leaned against her as she leafed through the pages.

"Let me see - catarrh...colic... Ah - here it is - constipation. That's an enema, honey."

I stared at the text and the picture of what looked like a little girl kneeling on the floor with a pipe disappearing into her butt, fed from something that looked like a hot water bottle. I couldn't say a word - it seemed to me to be the most barbaric procedure that I had ever seen. The words spoke of soap and salt, of temperature and of volume. For a fourteen year old boy a whole quart was recommended, injected slowly and retained for as long as possible... and repeated if there was no result!

I shuddered and mom put her arm round my waist and gave me a hug.

"You see now?"

"You mean that thing had been in their bottoms? Oh JEEZ - no wonder you wore gloves!"

"Well, maybe I over-reacted honey."

"NO! I think I'll take another shower right now. That thing was probably crammed full of germs. Why on earth would anybody do something like that to a kid?"

Mom sighed and hugged me tighter.

"I think one shower is enough, George. A while ago, parents used enemas a lot with their children because they reckoned that if you didn't empty your bowels every day then the poisons were absorbed back into your body and made you ill."

"And don't they? I feel pretty bad when I get stuffed, then I go to the bathroom and feel fine."

Mom laughed.

"You want me to get an enema bag for you then?"

"NO!"

"Look - it gives the volumes right up to sixteen years old. I could give you enemas for another two or three years if you like."

"MOM! You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Of course not, honey. Just kidding."

"And they all get it?"

Mom nodded.

"When they first arrived I took a welcome gift over to them. Would you believe the first thing she had unpacked was that enema bag? She had just given Billy an enema and he was running around the place without a stitch of clothing on him waiting for the last of the water to come back."

"How's that? What do you mean?"

I could see that she regretted starting the story, but she just sighed and pulled a face.

"After you have an enema, some of the liquid stays inside for a while. Then it comes back and you have to rush to the bathroom - it won't wait."

I didn't say anything, but it sounded to me like mom was speaking from experience!
 
 

Things stayed pretty bad with the McLoonies. I didn't think much about enemas then - just occasionally wishing that they got more of them - preferably of gasoline followed by a lighted match. Then the phone rang and I could tell by the look on mom's face that it was Mrs. McLoonie on the other end. Finally mom put the phone down and reached in her purse for a twenty.

"George, honey, could you cycle down to the drugstore and collect a prescription for Mrs. McClurie? Pay for it with this, then take it next door - and get the money from her before you leave."

"Aw, MOM!"

"Please, George."

"Aw, okay then. But you owe me big time."

I knew why mom had sent me, of course. It was to get Mrs. McLoonie to pay up - she would probably sweet-talk mom, but all I had to do was act stupid and keep holding my hand out for the cash.

I collected the prescription and rode back, then I knocked on the back door of the old house.

"Prescription."

"Just leave it there, honey."

"Mom says you'll give me the money for it."

"Just leave it. I'll settle up with her later."

I had to laugh - mom was really on the ball.

"I can't do that. Mom said I had to get the money from you."

Her tone changed to one of sweet reason.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it like that, honey. Just leave it there and I'll be over at your place in five minutes."

"I'll take it back to mom then, shall I?"

I was quite enjoying myself - there's nothing quite as good as pretending to be stupid. There was a long silence.

"Come in then."

I stuffed the bottle in my pocket and opened the door. It had turned into a sort of game and I was determined to win. Mrs. McLoonie looked flustered.

"Well? Where is it?"

"You have to give me fifteen dollars to take back to my mom."

"I'm busy right now."

"I'll wait for it then, shall I?"

She glared at me and I could see that I had won. Then she grabbed at Baby McLoonie who was making noisy and destructive circuits of the kitchen.

"All right. I'll deal with this one, then you can have your money! Nobody trusts anybody nowadays."

Baby was bollock naked as usual. She gave him a sharp slap on his butt and I winced at the high pitched wail which came out of the other end.

"That's enough from you! Get over that chair."

Baby McLoonie sniveled his way to the chair and bent down over it and for one awful moment I thought she was going to take a belt to him. He bent over it and grasped the legs on the far side. Then I felt my stomach heave when I saw what she picked up.

It was a bright green plastic bulb, pear shaped with a flat bottom to stand it on. The other end bore a long, tapering tube - and that was the part which she was intending to use.

She put her finger and thumb between Baby's cheeks and prised them apart - I could clearly see his miniature asshole at the center of the target area. Then she aimed the pipe straight at it and I felt my balls tingle and pull up inside of me as she just slid it straight inside his ass.

I felt it almost as a pain as she slowly squeezed the bulb flat. Baby McLoonie started to wail his way right up the scale to supersonic - it sounded like it was killing him. Then her hand clamped his butt cheeks firmly together as she pulled the pipe out.

The poor kid seemed to be in agony. He was trying to jump up and down, but she held him firmly for ages. Then she carried him over to the corner and sat him on his potty - the sound and stink of the resulting BM made me gag.

She seemed happier now. She opened her purse, produced three crumpled fives and thrust them at me.

"Okay. Give me the damn stuff."

I was only too glad to hand it over and run home. Mom raised an eyebrow.

"Well? Did you get it out of her?"

I handed her the money.

"There's five change from the drugstore and the rest is from her. She really didn't want to give it to me!"

Mom burst out laughing and held the three fives out to me.

"Here - take it. I reckon you earned every cent!"

"WOW! Thanks, mom!"

I sat down to eat and mom fetched over my lunch. She stopped dead in her tracks a few feet behind me.

"George. Keep very still."

"Huh?"

"There's something on your neck. I'll get it."

She put the food down and crept up to me while I sat in a state of some tension. Then she screamed.

"OH MY GOD! There's dozens of them!"

"What?"

"COOTIES! You're crawling with them!"

Suddenly I itched all over. I could feel them roaming over my body, biting and burrowing. I started to scratch.

"Stop that! You'll make it worse. Outside. NOW!"

I fled into the backyard. Mom followed, waving the keys to the car.

"STAY RIGHT THERE! Don't scratch. Don't MOVE!"

She must have made it to the drugstore and back in record time. She returned carrying a large bottle of red liquid.

"Wait."

Mom vanished into the house and returned with a large garbage bag.

"Put your clothes in here."

I looked around wildly.

"Mom - I can't strip naked here."

"All except your undershorts. Quickly."

Boy - I didn't need her to tell me that! My whole body felt like it was on fire. I stuffed my clothing in the bag and mom stood to one side.

"Straight to the bathroom and stand in the bath."

She followed me up. I didn't need any urging to shed my undershorts either - modesty has its limits and crawling, biting creatures over-ride teenage shyness.

"Just drop them there."

I did as she said and watched as she poured some of the liquid over them. Then she turned her attention to me.

Jesus! That stuff stank and stung. She poured half of the bottle over my hair and then spread it over the rest of me as it ran down. I kept my eyes clamped tight shut - whatever was in that liquid was dissolving my skin and no way was I letting it in my eyes.

That's when I really realized I was naked. I couldn't do a thing about it as I felt mom rubbing the stuff in my pubic hair - then she grabbed my dick and anointed it as well as my balls. I yelled as it stung even more on the sensitive bits.

"Turn round."

I knew what was coming. I didn't even think of objecting - I just bent forward and let her get on with it. I winced as the stuff started to burn - then mom spread it right over my asshole and it ignited like an Atlas rocket on the launch pad. I couldn't stop the urge - I had to take a shit right away.

"Mom... toilet..."

I was blind - no way was I opening my eyes. I felt her guide me into position and I gratefully let my bowels relax and expel their contents. Mom put a towel into my hands.

"Get that stuff off your face."

I blinked gratefully as I was finally able to see again. Mom looked worried, but all I could think about was just how ridiculous I looked - pink and blotchy, squatting on the commode while my asshole tried to detach itself from my body.

I couldn't stop myself. I just started to laugh. After a few moments of surprise, mom joined in. When we finally stopped, she looked sheepish.

"I'm sorry about that, George. I should have known it would have that effect on you - it worked just like glycerin. Why don't you take a shower now and wash all of that stuff off?"

As I showered I heard mom's voice from outside the house. Boy - was she mad!

"I'm calling the public health department right now! And social services - you aren't fit to have children if you let them get infested like that!"

I dressed in clean underwear and a robe, then as I opened the door from my room, I was suddenly hit by a wave of shame and shyness as I fully realized what mom had done to me. Then I shrugged. So what?

When I went into the kitchen mom smiled at me.

"Feel better now, honey?"

"Yes. Much better."

"Sorry about that accident. I just wasn't thinking."

That triggered the curiosity that I had suppressed.

"Mom? What were you saying about glycerin? I thought you used it for softening your hands?"

Mom shuddered.

"Granny's magic bottle!"

"Huh? What's that?"

Mom sat down - she looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Oh - glycerin is very irritating on sensitive parts. My grandmother had a bottle of it with a wide neck and she called it her magic bottle. I really, really hated that bottle!"

"Why? What did she do?"

Mom sighed.

"Seems like every time I saw her she would ask me about my bowels. I don't know why she bothered, because the magic bottle came out just the same."

"But what did she do?"

"She dipped her finger in the glycerin and applied it you-know-where. I really did hate that - her finger was all long and bony and the glycerin stung like fire - I used to cry all the time when I had to have it. It sure made me go, though!"

I didn't dare ask what I suspected. Where I reckoned that bony finger had gone. I returned to the events of the day.

"Baby McLoonie cried too."

Mom looked up curiously.

"Did he? How come?"

"She made me wait for the money until after she gave him an enema with a sort of squeeze bulb. It sounded like it was killing him."

Dark clouds gathered on mom's face.

"She gave her child an enema in front of you?"

"And a slap when he wouldn't take it."

Mom stood up, looking determined.

"That does it. I really am going to call social services!"

In fact, she didn't need to. Overnight, the McLoonies vanished in their pickup, leaving every door and window in the house wide open. Mom called the public health people and screamed at them until two guys dressed in things that looked like spacesuits went into the house with their spray guns and zapped every bug in the place.
 
 

I found myself suffering from curiosity about Mrs. McLoonie and the way she gave her kids enemas. So I sneaked the Home Doctor book up to my room and read through it - I didn't tell mom because I somehow knew that she wouldn't approve.

It recommended enemas for just about everything. I shivered as I thought of what kids had to go through in those days - they got enemas for everything from asthma to worms! The actual section was pretty detailed - it gave precise instructions about temperature and volume and the right direction to insert the tube. The funny thing was that they always referred to "her" when they were describing the process, like it was girls who mainly got them.

I could hardly wait to tell John about what had happened. He was my best friend, although it was a bit awkward sometimes because he hadn't started to grow yet - he was just five foot tall and his voice hadn't even started to break. He was pretty childish, really, but he was okay.

"Hey, John - you'll never guess what happened."

"What?"

"You know the McLoonies - they used to live next to us?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I had to take some stuff to them. And when I was there, she got this big bulb full of water, and she squirted it right up he baby's ass! It's called an enema."

I waited for his response. He just shrugged.

"I know. I had to have one of them once."

"You did? When?"

"Aw, years ago. I got real stuffed and then I had pains in my belly, so mom took me to the doctor's."

"What happened?"

"He poked around for a while, then he took mom outside to talk to her - I hate it when they do that - and then they came back in. Mom took me to another room and the nurse came in with an enema bag. I didn't know what it was, but I soon found out - mom took my pants off and they made me curl up on the couch and next thing there was this tube up my ass and it was filling me up with hot water!"

"Jeez - it must have hurt like hell!"

John looked puzzled.

"No. It didn't hurt at all - it just felt funny. Then they stood over me when I went to the bathroom. I didn't do enough, so they took me back and gave me another enema. That sure fixed me up - I shat a real mountain. Then mom said I was a good boy and took me to McDonalds."

"Well - you must have been pretty embarrassed about it."

John looked baffled.

"Embarrassed? No. I mean, it was only mom and the nurse, and that was Mrs. Vincent anyway - she just lives up the road from us and I knew her already."

"I would be embarrassed if my mother saw me getting an enema!"

John shrugged.

"I don't see why. Mom sees me in the buff anyway, so what difference does a bit of rubber pipe make?"

That was when I realized John was still a baby - I had been locking the bathroom door for a couple of years by that time and I insisted that everybody knocked before they came in to my room. No way would I let mom see me naked - that time with the bug-killing stuff still made me cringe when I thought about it! But John was laughing now - a real dirty laugh.

"And you saw it happen? I sometimes think about that."

"Seeing a little kid get an enema?"

"No, stupid. Seeing Sarah Gibbons getting an enema. And other girls. Wouldn't it be something if all the girls had to have one in the gym and we were up in the gallery watching? That's my favorite dirty thought - you can spin it out for ages if you imagine them getting done one at a time!"

Maybe John wasn't all that innocent after all!

"You should be careful then. Your mom might catch you beating your meat unless you lock her out of the bathroom! Then you would be real embarrassed if she knew what you did!"

He looked surprised.

"But she does know that I masturbate. You know last year when they were all saying that it made you go blind? I asked mom about it and she told me it was just a silly story. She said it didn't do any harm at all and that I should just go ahead and do it whenever I felt like it."

"Not in front of her?"

"Don't be stupid. Mom said it was a private thing except maybe with a girl when I got older. Dad said that when he was my age he did it two or three times a day!"

"Your DAD was there as well?"

"Sure. Why not? We don't have secrets in my family."

Then he blushed.

"Except what I think about when I do it...."

I tried John's suggestion, but it didn't work for me. I preferred thinking about peeking through a hole into the girl's showers. Like they did in Porky's!
 
 

I was quite surprised when some new people arrived at the old house the next week. They were a young married couple and they had bought the place real cheap because it was so rundown. Mom watched through the kitchen window as they started to load a pickup with bag after bag of garbage. Then she turned to me.

"George. Why don't you go and give them a hand?"

"Aw, mom..."

"Be neighborly. Off you go."

I wandered across to them - they looked even younger close up.

"I'm George from next door. Want any help?"

The guy grinned.

"We sure do! I'm Bob and this is Cindy - we'd be glad of your help."

I had never been further than the kitchen and what I saw in the rest of the house disgusted me. No wonder it had been infested - the place was full of food wrappers and shitty clothing that they had just dropped on the floor. Bob gave an embarrassed grin this time.

"Hey - I know it's filthy and falling to bits, but we got it for next to nothing. It doesn't cost much to renovate if you do it yourself. Energy we got, money we ain't got!"

I had to laugh because he pulled out his pockets to show that they were empty. Then we tackled a huge pile of stuff. Bob suddenly guffawed.

"Hey - what have we here?"

He pulled out an enema bag and examined it, then showed that it was split in two.

"Blowback?"

I laughed until I cried. Cindy shook her head.

"Typical boys! Scatological humor is the best you can manage."

I looked at Bob and he saw that I didn't understand.

"It means that guys laugh at butt and asshole jokes. Girls don't have them, of course - I went out with Cindy for two years before she finally admitted that she had to use the bathroom once in a while."

That made me laugh as well. These were a different breed of adult to the ones I normally met. Bob looked closely at the enema bag and then at Cindy.

"I could glue this back together if you like. How would you like a nice big enema?"

Then he held the pipe like he was going to use it on her and chased her round the room with it until they finally collapsed in fits of giggles. Cindy smacked him on the head with a newspaper.

"You get rid of that damn thing right now - I had enough enemas when I was a kid to last me a lifetime!"

Bob stopped dead.

"You never told me that!"

"Oh sure, I could have told you. 'Sorry I'm late, honey, but mom took a long time with my enema tonight'?"

Bob grinned widely.

"Oh. I don't know. Maybe I could have helped."

Cindy snorted.

"More likely you would have ended up on the bathroom floor with your butt in the air getting one of mom's specials!"

Now Bob looked intrigued.

"Specials? What were they?"

Then Cindy flicked her eyes to me and back to him. Bob got the message and so did I - there was going to be no more talk of enemas while I was there.
 
 

Mom arrived just after midday. She smiled and we went through the introductions, then she gestured towards our house.

"I've prepared a picnic lunch for us. Come along now."

She led the way to our deck and smiled proudly when they complimented her on the food. They were just big kids really - they devoured everything real fast!

We worked through the afternoon and eventually the house was completely empty apart from a few boxes that Bob and Cindy had fetched and some sticks of furniture left by the McLoonies. They sank down gratefully into a couple of the kitchen chairs and started to rummage in the boxes. I stood up to leave.

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

Bob looked around and grimaced.

"This is where we live now. We can't afford rent and pay for the stuff we need here, so we'll have to rough it for a while."

Mom interrupted us before I could say anything.

"Supper, people. Come along now."

Bob and Cindy looked embarrassed. He held his hands wide.

"Ma'am, we can't keep on imposing on your hospitality. We can't pay you back."

Mom clucked around.

"Don't be silly - come on - eat first."

They really were hungry! But then, so was I. And thirsty and sweaty and dusty. Then it dawned on me that there was no hot water in the old house - we had needed to heat it up in a kettle to wash things down and Bob had said there was something wrong with the furnace. I was also beginning to realize that they wouldn't ask.

"Mom? Can Bob and Cindy take showers? They don't have hot water yet."

"Oh LORD! Why didn't you SAY? Of course you can. Go and fetch some clean things to wear and then you can get that grime off."

I saw that I had done the right thing from the look of relief on Cindy's face. They went back to their place and I told mom the rest.

"They don't even have a bed - just sleeping bags and a camping mattress. They don't have anything at all!"

"I didn't realize they had moved in."

"They said they couldn't afford rent as well as the payments for the house. They're real poor, mom."

I shut up as I heard them returning. Mom took charge, of course.

"George - Bob can use your bathroom - show him where everything is. I'll look after Cindy."

I took Bob to my room and got out a fresh towel. By the time I turned round, he had stripped off. I was embarrassed at first - adults didn't strip in front of kids. Then I reasoned that he was just a big kid, and that made it all right - and he was big all over! He disappeared into the shower and then poked his head out.

"Gee - I'm sorry. You want to go first?"

"No problem. I'll wait."

I showered after him and it was wonderful to get rid of the itching dust. By the time we were finished, dad was home and mom was organizing.

"Artie - get into your overalls and go fix the furnace next door. George - take Bob to the garage and show him where the camping stuff is - he can borrow beds and whatever else he likes until they get organized. Cindy can give me a hand with the laundry - we'll have everything washed and dried in no time at all."

Bob looked like he wanted to say something, but I just grabbed his arm and got him out of there.

"Don't argue with mom when she's in that mood. You won't win."

"But..."

"I said not to argue. The camping stuff isn't great, but it's better than sleeping on the floor."

Dad was real good at fixing things - he found the problem straightaway and the furnace burst into life like magic. Mom organized the rest of the place and it looked much better when she produced a cloth for the table and some "old" curtains for the windows. When we got home she really got into her stride though - I think she called the entire neighborhood!

I slept late next morning and I could smell paint as soon as I woke. Mom pushed my breakfast at me.

"Get that down, then put your oldest clothes on and give them a hand with the painting."

The first thing I saw when I entered the house was Bob, wearing only a pair of undershorts and covered with paint. He grinned at me when he saw the look on my face.

"Hey - it's easier to get paint off your skin than off your clothes!"

"It's even easier to just get it on old clothes and keep them for painting."

He looked amazed.

"Gee - I never thought of that. But it's fun getting dirty anyway."

"You're just a kid!"

He grinned mischievously.

"Not all the time. Sometimes I'm very grown up."

I turned as Cindy entered and then tried to slow down my heart rate. She was wearing a long tee-shirt and it took me a few moments to work out that she wasn't naked underneath it. It was still sexy as hell though!

We all settled down to the task of painting - fortunately everything was going to be white, so it didn't matter if you went over the edge of some object.

Then I saw Cindy. She was kneeling down as she painted underneath a fitting almost at floor level. Her shirt had ridden up, revealing plain white panties stretched tight as she twisted her body to see what she was doing. Bob was grinning at the sight - then he reversed his paintbrush and goosed her with the tip of the handle.

She squealed, jumped up and then set about attacking him in retaliation. I watched for a few moments, grinning as she tried to get her revenge. Then it all suddenly changed - Bob's tattered undershorts barely concealed the sight of his erection and certainly did not hide the bulge. Meanwhile Cindy suddenly went all strange - her face changed, her body stretched and she kinda melted into Bob as their fight changed to a kiss.

I fled back home for lunch - mom had prepared enough for all of us, of course.

"Call Bob and Cindy will you, honey."

I felt my face burning.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, mom. Not right now."

I could feel her reading my mind. Then she chuckled.

"They haven't been married very long, have they? Let's give them ten minutes."

Then I wanted to die as the words just popped out of my mouth.

"Is that how long it takes?"

I was burning up with shame at asking such a stupid question. Mom just chuckled.

"About that if you're hungry. Less if you're very hungry."

It was all very unsettling for a fourteen year old boy. Being realistic, sex was a couple of years - an infinite length of time - in the future as far as I was personally concerned. It was a sort of golden glow on the top of a high mountain with a choir concealed nearby - yet Bob and Cindy made no secret of the fact that they did it. Hell - they were doing it at that very moment!

The couple appeared after mom's ten minute estimate, grinning and blushing slightly as she asked them just what was so important that it took precedence over food. After lunch, mom's calls started to bear fruit. Nobody wanted the McLoonies or someone like them back in the neighborhood, so a steady stream of assistance and gifts started to flow into the old house. Bob and Cindy looked embarrassed, but they were grateful just the same.

The place looked just great after three days. Okay - not all the furniture matched, but there was a nice table and chairs and comfortable places to sit - and then they invited mom, dad and me to be their guests at their first dinner party.

When we arrived the kitchen was full of good smells but Bob and Cindy were nowhere to be seen. I yelled to let them know we were there and they appeared a few minutes later, looking disheveled and flushed - I saw mom and dad grin at each other because it was just so obvious what had been going on. I was starting to get used to the strange idea that in the adult world sex was regarded as nothing unusual. It was all right for them, of course - it was just kids who missed out!

I missed out during the meal too. Bob asked if I was allowed wine and dad said no. So I had to drink Coke while they swilled down lots of booze and got quite giggly about everything.

Afterwards, I stood up and said I needed to use the bathroom - I had to rush to make it before mom got there. I unzipped and let fly - a long luxurious piss was the biggest pleasure I was going to get - and looked round at the same time. I just about peed my pants when I saw what was lying in the bathtub - a brand new enema thing with its rubber tubing coiled untidily around the place and a dribble of water still slowly dripping from the end of the pipe.

My blood ran cold - I was real embarrassed at seeing it myself, but mom was outside, waiting her turn. If she saw it then, judging by her reaction to Mrs. McLoonie and her enemas, mom was going to be just plain revolted - she might decide that Bob and Cindy should be reported to the city as well! I hastily finished my piss and grabbed the enema stuff, then I pushed it right to the back of the closet and covered it with a pile of towels.

When I got back down, Bob and Cindy looked like they were panicking. I tried to tell them that it was okay by winking at them, but it wasn't until Cindy visited the bathroom herself and came back smiling with relief that they got the message.

Mom and dad decided that it was time for them to go - in fact it was dad who decided, because mom was starting to wobble around from the effects of the wine. She wanted to stay, of course.

"I can't just leave Cindy to clear up."

"Honey, they haven't got enough plates for you to help."

"What do you mean? I'm fine!"

"Yes, honey. George will stay and help - let's get you home, eh?"

Bob and Cindy waited until they saw mom and dad enter our house, then Cindy squealed, grabbed me and kissed me - on the MOUTH!

"George, you angel! Where did you hide it?"

"In the closet. Under the towels."

"Thank god for that. You mother is real nice, but she's pretty nosey as well, isn't she?"

I had to grin at that because they were 100% right - mom collected information like it was going out of fashion. They were both giggling now and cuddling together - I realized they were pretty well under the influence too. Cindy dug Bob in the ribs.

"It's all your fault! I said there wasn't enough time to try it out, didn't I?"

Bob grinned at her.

"It's your fault! Who decided that she was tired of me teasing her about her mom's enemas? Who said she was going to get her revenge on me?"

"Who got so excited at taking an enema that he raped me on the bathroom floor?"

By this stage I wanted to crawl away and die - I really didn't want to hear the details. It was like being a peeping tom - and I had an awful feeling that they were going to feel different when they sobered up and realized what they had said. Then Cindy rushed over to me and hugged me.

"Now see what you've done - you've embarrassed poor George - after he saved our bacon by hiding the evidence!"

Bob took another big drink of wine - he was really getting drunk.

"Aw, he's a friend. It doesn't matter if he knows!"

"Bob!"

"What? Anyway, he knew a lot more about enemas than I did when we found that burst bag. Greatest sex aid ever invented. Just about blew my mind - and my ass as well!"

"Don't be crude!"

"Hey - who was it wanted one after we fucked? Who turned into a cat on heat? Who did the raping then?"

Then they both started to giggle like little kids. Bob staggered back and lay on the couch, then he passed out. Cindy wasn't nearly so far gone - she sobered up pretty fast when he puked all over himself, the couch and the floor.

"OH GOD! What a mess!"

Then she looked at me and my heart sank.

"George, could you be an angel again and help me get him cleaned up and into bed?"

"Yeah. Sure."

At least he was starting to come round by the time we manhandled him into the bathroom, but he was still pretty drunk. I held him steady while Cindy stripped his clothes off. He started to giggle again.

"Can I have another enema, mommy? Please?"

Cindy slapped a cold wet sponge on his chest and that quieted him down. She wiped the sick off him and then dried him.

"Bed now - he needs to sleep this off."

We laid him on the bed, still naked, and Cindy sprinkled him with baby powder and started to rub it all over him. I blushed again when she got to his dick, because she paid it a lot of attention. Then we rolled him over and she did his back. All of it. Even his ass.

He stirred when she got to his asshole and started to make happy noises. Cindy just slapped him hard on the butt and covered him up with the sheets before we went back down.

I made some coffee - she looked like she needed it. As she drank it, she suddenly looked at me in horror.

"Oh god! What on earth must you think of us?"

All I could do was shrug. I didn't know what to think, because everything had turned upside down in my mind. Baby McLoonie had screamed when his mother gave him an enema - it seemed like it had hurt him. John had said it didn't hurt - it had made him feel funny. But Bob and Cindy had been turned on by it. It was baffling - I had no idea what was going on.

Then Cindy kissed me on the forehead.

"If you don't mind, George, I need to look after that drunken husband of mine. Thanks for everything."

Mom and dad had gone to bed when I got home. I took a shower and then turned in while my brain attempted to make sense of the contradictory information. Finally it gave up and I decided that it was just one of those unsolved problems.
 
 

I called John next day. Mom had given me some money as a reward for helping Bob and Cindy so much and I needed a break. We went bowling and had a pretty good day just hanging out and then he asked me if I wanted to sleep over at his place. That was fine by me, because it gave me the chance to ask him some more about his enema experience - maybe that would clear things up in my mind.

John groaned when I asked him about the time he got his enema.

"Aw hell - I told you once."

"Come on - I want to know exactly what happened."

He sighed.

"I really told you most of it. Mom took me to this room, then she pulled my pants and underpants right off. Then the nurse came in with this real scary thing - all rubber tubes and glass bottles."

Then he giggled.

"I didn't tell you what I did next. I reckoned that something that evil-looking was bound to hurt, so I just ran out of the room and tried to escape."

"But you said you had no pants on!"

"That's the whole point. I was so scared that I forgot - mom caught up with me in reception and dragged me back in. All the ladies just laughed when she told them what I was going to get."

"How old were you?"

"Seven, I think. It was a long time ago. Anyway, mom took me back and I was crying and trying to get away, but then she told me that it was going to be like having my temperature taken and I calmed down."

"What are you talking about? Your temperature?"

"Yeah - sometimes they take it in your ass instead of your mouth."

"Yuck! That's disgusting!"

He laughed.

"No - they do it all the time with babies. My mom is French, you know - she says they always take it like that in France because it's the only way you get a proper reading."

"What? Even adults?"

"Everybody."

"Even you?"

"Well - it still gets taken in my ass, but I do it myself now."

"How?"

"Mom just hands me the thermometer, I stay under the sheets and push it up my ass, then I take it out and hand it back to her to read."

I shuddered.

"That sounds awful."

He got out of bed and went into the bathroom, then returned with a thermometer, one end covered in grease.

"Here. Try it - it's okay"

My first reaction, of course, was to refuse but then I suddenly decided that I would try it. Maybe it would resolve some of the confusion I was feeling. I took the thermometer from John and stayed under the sheets while I pushed my shorts down and maneuvered the greased tip between my cheeks to my asshole. It felt cold and hard. I applied a little pressure and it slid smoothly into my ass.

It was a total disappointment to me. No pain, and no sexual feeling either. It was just a cold glass rod sitting there in my asshole - it felt strange, but that was expected.

"Don't let it slide all the way in!"

I looked to see an expression of concern on John's face. I laughed.

"Don't worry - I'm holding on tight."

"See what I mean? It's no big deal."

I pulled it out and placed it on the table beside my bed.

"Yeah. But did the enema feel the same?"

John dived back into his bed before he answered.

"I can't really remember. I know it felt all funny when the water went in, then it started to hurt a bit when I was full up. Not real pain - just like, you know, when you really need to take a shit. Anyway - why are you so interested in enemas?"

"Well... I heard that some people get a real sexy thrill out of them."

I expected him to laugh and say that it was a stupid idea. He stayed quiet for a long time before he answered.

"Yeah. Now that I think back, maybe it was that sort of feeling. I'm not sure - it was years ago - but when I have dirty thoughts about the girls getting enemas while I watch, it makes me feel funny in both places."

"Huh?"

"My dick and my ass. Like it was happening to me again."

That made me even more baffled. Then John sighed.

"All this talk - now I gotta do it!"

And he just started jerking off under the sheets like I wasn't there. What was a guy to do....?
 
 

Disaster struck the next morning. John's mom came in to wake us up. She pulled back the curtains then stopped and looked at my table.

"What's that thing doing there?"

Hell and damnation - the thermometer was still out! I didn't know what to say, but fortunately John spoke up.

"George wasn't feeling so well last night."

Mrs. Lavelle looked worried.

"You should have called me. You must not try to be a doctor at your age."

"Aw, mom, I take my own temperature. Why shouldn't George?"

I was starting to get worried now. She looked me straight in the face.

"Was there any pain when you did it? Any blood?"

Okay. I panicked. Had I done any damage to myself? Then she pulled the sheets back.

"Let me see what you have done."

I didn't even think of refusing. I just let her pull my shorts down and shivered with fear as she examined me closely.

"No damage done, thank the Good Lord. Now let me check your temperature properly."

Before I could even think of protesting, I felt the thermometer slide smoothly into my asshole.

It was different to when I had done it myself. Perhaps because I didn't know it was coming, perhaps because when I did it I knew exactly which way to point the end of it. The thing was slightly off center and slightly off track - and I just about passed out from the sudden intensity of the sensations it produced as it probed against the inside of my asshole. To my horror, my dick reacted instantaneously and I got an immense hard on. Mrs. Lavelle couldn't see it - but John could. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped while I scrabbled to cover it with the sheets.

It took an eternity of embarrassment before the thermometer was removed and I could grab my shorts and pull them up. I rolled on to my front and let Mrs. Lavelle cover me with the sheets. Then she consulted the thermometer.

"Quite normal, George. No harm done."

As soon as she had gone, John started questioning me.

"What happened to you?"

Boy, was I blushing! To be caught with a boner at school was just about the most humiliating experience you could imagine - and painful too if it happened in the showers, because then it became open-season with wet towels. This was worse, because of what had caused it.

"I don't know. I wasn't expecting it, but it just happened."

His only reply was an interested sort of grunt.

Now I was really on my own. I went home as soon as I could and I thought of going across to see how Bob and Cindy were doing. Hell - I couldn't just breeze in there, could I? Not after what had happened. I couldn't face John because of what had happened to me, and I couldn't face the neighbors because of what had happened to them. So I stayed home and played games on my computer - that was pretty safe.

Somebody had to do something to break the cycle, and that person happened to be Cindy. I reckon she waited for everybody else to be out of the way - then she came in to our house and kidnapped me into their kitchen - I didn't want to go but she grabbed my arm and took me there anyway. Then we sat facing each other over her kitchen table - I didn't know what to say, so I waited for her to break the ice.

"George, Bob and I want to apologize for our behavior last week."

I just gawked at her. Adults didn't apologize to kids. She put her hand out and got hold of mine.

"We're both sorry for embarrassing you. We were pretty drunk and we said lots of things that we shouldn't have."

That brought it all back and I felt my face burning with shame. Cindy squeezed my hand real hard.

"The thing is, George, you're a friend - we don't think of you as a boy - but I guess we went way too far. It was the booze talking, not us."

I began to relax. I wanted to be friends with them again and maybe I could. Then Cindy looked real sheepish.

"George? What did we say? Neither of us is very sure and it's driving up crazy in case you tell anyone."

That made me angry.

"I wouldn't say a thing. Anyway, it was nothing."

"So nothing that you've kept away for a week?"

"Well... Maybe you were a bit indiscreet."

She glared at me.

"We both remember that you hid the enema bag so that your mother didn't see it. Right?"

"Yes."

"What else did we say? I've got to know before I go out of my mind. Please."

"You gave Bob an enema and then he raped you. On the bathroom floor."

Another new experience. I watched a deep blush creep up Cindy's neck and spread all over her face. Then she looked alarmed.

"It wasn't really rape, you know."

"Aw heck, of course I knew that. You just meant he couldn't wait."

She looked relieved.

"Yes. I'm glad you understand that. I wouldn't like you to think Bob forced me or anything like that."

"Oh no - he said you raped him back after... "

"Oh NO! We told you that as well?"

I nodded. Cindy looked real upset - I wondered if she was going to burst into tears.

"You don't understand, George, do you? Do you think we're... strange... ?"

"No way. I know what it feels like. Well - not an enema, I've never had one of them. But I had my temperature taken there and that really got me excited."

"You did? I thought they didn't do that any more! How come?"

We were both relaxing and I found myself telling her about Mrs. Lavelle - I didn't say that I had been experimenting, of course, just that she was French and that was they way they did it. Cindy burst out laughing.

"Oh - I know all about that! We went on a school trip to France in my junior highschool year and one of the boys got an infected tooth - his face was the size of a pumpkin. They called the doctor and the poor boy not only got his temperature taken in his butt, he had to have penicillin suppositories four times a day for a week! The men teachers refused to have anything to do with it, so he got them pushed up his ass by the lady vice-principal. I would have felt sorry for him but he was such a dickhead that we all just laughed and made rude gestures for the rest of the holiday!"

"You said your mother gave you enemas. Was that bad?"

Cindy wrinkled her brow in concentration.

"Bad? Depends which meaning. She gave them because she honestly believed that the contents of my bowels would poison me if she didn't wash them out on a regular basis. It wasn't as though it was just me - my sister got the same and every week mom and dad locked themselves in the bathroom and came out a lot later looking much better. They waited until we were in bed, but we still knew what they were doing.

"She didn't really make me have them against my will either. It was just a regular thing from the time I was a baby - every week mom syringed me and my sister. We didn't really think about it - it just happened.

"When I got into my teens, I discovered that it didn't happen to other girls and I told mom that I didn't want it any more. So she stopped - and I missed it. I think I was so used to getting an enema every week that I felt lousy when it didn't happen. So I told her to start again and it carried on until I left home for college and then I just kinda grew out of it."

I was shocked.

"I just can't imagine what it must be like. Surely it wasn't necessary to do it every week?"

Cindy grinned. A sort of knowing, mischievous grin.

"Not exactly necessary but... Kinda nice...."
 
 

At least that got me back on friendly terms with our neighbors, but it didn't solve my problems. Bob and Cindy were nice people, but I didn't have that much in common with them - they were devoted to each other and to working on the house. I lent a hand sometimes, but it was pretty boring stuff really.

Then John came to call. It was awkward at first, but mom helped with her usual habit of interrogating him dry and then feeding both of us. Then he smiled sweetly at mom and asked me his question.

"Say, can I sleep over?"

I got no chance to say a thing before mom told him that he was welcome. I wasn't sure why he wanted to stay - until we went to bed and mom was no longer hovering. John grinned at me in some sort of triumph.

"They are sexy!"

"What?"

"Enemas. They're amazing!"

"How the hell do you know?"

His grin grew broader.

"I got one. Two in fact."

"How did you manage that?"

"Aw, it was easy. I held in my shit for a couple of days and that got me constipated. Then I told mom."

"And she gave you an enema?"

"No way! She told me to go to the bathroom and try hard. I told her nothing came out and it hurt a lot. Then I reminded her about when I was little."

"So she took you to see the doctor?"

"No. She called Mrs. Vincent. Then she told me to go round to her house."

"And?"

"And Mrs. Vincent gave me an enema. It was great."

I could have throttled him. He knew I wanted to know all about it but he was making me ask.

"Come on, John. Give."

John was in bed by this stage and I could see the little tent and his hand slowly moving. It was making me randy too - I lay back, looked at the ceiling and started to fiddle with myself as John told his story.

"She was waiting for me and I reckon she thought that I might make a run for it, because she took me straight into a bathroom. It was like a doctor's office - all white and clean, with this big couch along one wall. I think she remembered that I had run away the last time, because she made me take all of my clothes off and then she took them out of the room and said that I was staying until I was fixed up."

"You were completely naked?"

"Yeah. It felt funny just lying on the couch while she prodded around my stomach. Then she gave me a long lecture about eating the right sorts of food - but all the time she was getting the enema stuff ready. It was like watching them test the guillotine when you know that you're first in line."

"What did she use? A bag or a bulb?"

"Neither. She had this shiny can with a tap in the side - she put some water in it then she added some powdered soap and stirred it up. Boy - the whole place stank of soap by the time she finished. But the worst bit was when I saw what she was going to put up my ass - it was all coiled round on the table and when she picked it up I saw it was a real thick rubber tube about ten feet long."

"Don't exaggerate."

"A couple of feet at least. I was real scared and I asked her if she didn't just have some ordinary stuff. She just laughed and said that I was a big boy now, so I was going to get a big boy's enema."

"Jeez. I bet you nearly shat yourself!"

"I tried. I said I thought I could go by myself - and then I discovered that I was really stuffed! She made me lie on the bench like this."

He hopped out of bed, then lay on top of the sheets. He bent his lower leg halfway to his chest then pulled the other one right up to it. The seat of his shorts was straining and it didn't take any imagination to see why he had to adopt that position for an enema!

"Then she pushed the tube up my ass, and I nearly passed out. You know what it feels like if you get some silver paper on a filling?"

"Yeah?"

"Well - it was like that, except that it was the end of my dick that tingled. I mean, I got this absolutely humungous boner and it felt like the end of my dick was going to explode and shoot off."

He got back into bed and I could see that the memory had produced a recurrence of the boner. John was real excited now - he didn't give a damn about jerking off in front of me.

"And then she ran some water in and it blew my mind! It was just incredible - like the best jerk of my life squared! It just went on and on and I got more and more worked up and then..."

He trailed into silence. I wanted to know.

"And then what?"

"And then I came. All over the couch!"

The horror of it made my erection shrivel into nothing. I was truly appalled that John had had such a terrible thing happen to him.

"Jeez. That was hard luck."

John didn't reply. His body was arched and his mouth hung slackly open while his hand moved faster and harder until he slumped back, gasping and grunting as his body jerked in the throes of his climax. I felt embarrassed - it was too reminiscent of my private activities. Finally he got his breath back.

"It was just like that, only better. I thought Mrs. Vincent would be angry, but she just patted me on the back and said that I must have really needed it."

"She said that?"

"Yeah. Then she took the tube out and I went to the toilet for one immense shit. I thought it was finished, but she said I had to have two enemas to make sure I was really cleaned out."

"That sounds weird."

"Not as weird as the enema. She made me lie on my back and get hold of my legs so she could get at my asshole. Then she put the tube back in and she let me put my feet down on the couch."

"You got it on your back?"

"That's what I said. She ran the water in real slow, and she kept pushing the tube further in, a little at a time until it was all inside of me. Then she rubbed my tummy real hard - she said it was to dislodge everything. Then I came again, right there in front of her."

"JESUS!"

"Aw, by then I was way past caring. I didn't like it when she squeezed my balls, though."

"She did WHAT?"

"She said that maybe they were congested. She pushed her fingers right down to the root of my dick and then pulled them forward to get all the sperm out and she squeezed my balls at the same time."

"That must have killed!"

"No - it didn't really hurt. I just didn't like her doing it, but she said it would be good for me and that I just had to lie still while she did it."

A dark suspicion was forming in my mind, a suspicion that maybe John wasn't the only one who had enjoyed the session. I kept it to myself, though.

John crashed out almost immediately, leaving me with my mind in a turmoil. It was a warm, quiet night and I was startled by a sudden sound - a male voice yelling something. I raised myself on my bed and peered round the curtain and out of the open window. There was no sign of anyone - just a light on upstairs in the old house.

Then I heard it again, more clearly this time. It was John's voice - and it was coming from the lighted room. Their bathroom.

"More! Faster!"

"John. Take it easy - there's plenty of time. It will hurt if I do it faster."

"Yes! Oh YES!"

It couldn't be, could it? It was! I listened to John's voice carrying overtones of lust, then I heard it joined by Cindy who added a descant of voiced pleasure which grew more and more urgent, faster and faster until it reached a pitch of cries that were quite unmistakable, even though I had never heard them before.

I felt real ashamed of myself for eavesdropping, but I kept seeing Cindy's face, feeling her hands gently inserting the enema tube, her fingers, not mine, sliding up and down my dick, her fist as it grabbed my balls and squeezed them.... Until I too threshed around in ecstasy as the cries reached their joint climax and were finally terminated by the sound of flushing water.

It left me in a difficult situation. First off, I was acutely conscious that John was way ahead of me in sexual experiences. I craved to know what an enema felt like and I fantasized about a lady examining my intimate parts, squeezing and stroking - even giving me granny's glycerin. I suppose it was inevitable that Cindy should occupy the fantasy role of the older woman, but it made things real awkward for me. Whenever I met her, my balls tingled and my asshole sang a song of desire as its muscles clenched and unclenched. Worst of all, my dick showed a distressing tendency to join in - and the last thing I wanted was for Cindy to find out that I lusted after her.

Eventually she cornered me, of course. I sat opposite her at the kitchen table, sipping coffee, while she subjected me to a gentle interrogation.

"You're not very happy nowadays, George."

"I'm okay."

"What's the problem? Can I help?"

Of course she could. We could go up to the bathroom, I could find out what was so great about en enema and then I could make mad, desperate love to her.

"Naw. It's nothing."

"There's something - I can see that. You found yourself a girl? Is that it?"

That made me laugh.

"No such luck."

"Ah. Maybe you want one? A particular one? And you don't have the nerve to speak to her?"

I felt sick. This was getting just too close for comfort. But I could tell her the truth.

"She's already got a boy and she loves him very much. She wouldn't be interested."

Cindy looked sympathetic.

"Gee, that's the toughest sort of problem. You will just have to wait, George. Maybe they will break up, or maybe another girl will happen along. Hang in there, guy."

And she stood up, came round the table and gave my shoulders a sympathetic squeeze while she kissed me gently on the top of my head.

"Don't despair, George. Things will work out."

I fled for the bathroom before I creamed my skivvies there and then. That made it worse - the closet door was half-open and they had screwed a hook inside it for the enema bag. I dropped my pants and started to jerk off. Then I got this totally disgusting urge - I pulled the tube out of the closet and slid the nozzle into my butt, pretending that it was Cindy doing it. Then I resumed my jerking, feeling the pipe in my asshole adding something extra, something special to the activity.

When I finally emerged, sore as hell, Cindy was looking worried.

"Are you okay? Have you been sick? You were a long time in there."

"I'm okay."

"I've got some medicine if you need a laxative."

It was ironic, I suppose. Medicine I didn't need, but I would have sold my soul for a quart of soapy water. No way was I going to get it, of course - I just shook my head and said that I was fine. Then I went home and wept tears of teenage misery.

Mom noticed it as well, but fortunately she reckoned it was just a normal teenage thing. She did her usual thing and fed me on vitamin pills, her solution for every ailment.

Strangely enough, Cindy was right in one way. John got pretty excited.

"Hey - my cousin Louie is coming to stay. All the way from France!"

I assumed that Louie was a boy. It was only when cousin Louise arrived with her mom and dad that I discovered my mistake. She was thirteen - at least that was her age in years - but she looked and acted like she was at least sixteen.

It was embarrassing when I met them - it was bad enough to be kissed by her mother, but I almost died of horror when her father seized me by the shoulders and kissed me on both cheeks - well, actually he just kinda rubbed his cheek against mine, but it was the principle of the thing that counted. Guys didn't kiss guys. Ever.

It was different with Louise. I was taller than her, so she had to stand on the tips of her toes and that pressed her body against mine in the most delightful way. She was wearing some perfume that was different to the stuff the local girls used - more subtle, more exciting. And when her hair brushed against my ears.....

My envy reached heights that I did not think possible when John smugly told me that she was sharing his room with him! Cousin or not, I could not imagine my mother letting me sleep in the same room as a girl over the age of two, but John just said that French people didn't have that sort of attitude. I was incredulous.

"They actually trust you?"

"Sure. Why not? We wouldn't do anything."

"But what about when she takes a shower?"

"So what? There's nothing special about that."

"There is if you can watch!"

He shrugged.

"We've spent our summer holidays together since we were babies - one year they come here, the next we go over there. I'm used to seeing her in the buff."

"You're a damn liar!"

He grinned.

"You'll never know, will you? But I'll tell you for free that she has amazing boobs with tiny nipples that stick out..."

The bastard. I didn't really believe that she would ever strip in front of him, but there was enough doubt in my mind to make me ultra-jealous. Maybe that gave me some extra courage - whatever the reason, Louise and I got along just fine, and that really annoyed John! I wouldn't have forced myself on them, but Louise insisted that I came along for every outing and her parents seemed to give her anything she wanted.

Louise and Cindy met by accident when we were leaving my house. I just gaped as they chattered to each other in French - John was pretty good, but he refused to speak anything but English while I staggered along trying to find the words and the accent.

I managed to get the gist of the conversation - Louise was missing French food. To cut a long story short, John, Louise and I were invited to take supper with Bob and Cindy next day.

I was surprised when Louise turned up on her own.

"Where's John?"

She pulled a face.

"Pah! All day he has been a pain in the buttocks. He thought I would not come if he did not. Now he is on the ground because he swore at his mother."

"You mean he's grounded?"

"Yes. If I had said what he said, I would have the real pain in the buttocks!"

It took me a moment to work it out.

"You mean you would have been spanked? Surely not?"

She looked surprised.

"Of course. Papa would have taken my knickers down and smacked me hard. In France, children must be polite - not like American children."

I swallowed hard. Louise sans culottes was an awesome thought! We went into the old house and I gasped at the food that was laid out for us - it must have taken Cindy all day to prepare it. It even looked French.

"Bienvenu, mes amis! Ca fait plaisir de vous voir."

Cindy stood there, beaming at our response to the meal. She winked at me as she poured four glasses of wine and handed one to each of us.

"A votre sainté."

I drank mine down like I had seen people do with a toast. Louise sipped hers, then looked at the food and finally looked unhappy.

"Merci bien, malheureusement j'ai la grippe."

Cindy rushed to her.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"It is this American food. It disagrees with me." Bob and I looked on as they went into a female conclave in rapid French. Finally Cindy looked at us.

"Louise and I have something to do. Don't dare touch that food until we get back."

Then they went upstairs. I assumed that it was one of those secret girl's problems, then I saw Bob grinning.

"What's so amusing?"

He chuckled.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, Miss Louise is currently baring her butt for one of Cindy's enemas."

He filled my glass to the brim.

"She didn't say we couldn't have a drink, did she? Poor Louise is suffering from a surfeit of junk food and Cathy is the girl to sort that out!"

I just sat there, stunned at the suddenness of it all. Bob looked at me.

"You don't exactly approve of it, do you?"

I didn't answer. All I could see in my imagination was Louise's little pink asshole with a plastic pipe slowly easing its way inside, the tender tissues slowly giving way until it slid smoothly inside her. Bob must have misunderstood my silence.

"Hey, an enema isn't the end of the world, you know! I know you'll keep this to yourself, but Cindy and I use them quite often. They're very refreshing."

That was the understatement of the century! I didn't want to give anything away, so I shrugged.

"I wouldn't know. I never had one."

Bob laughed.

"Boy - you really don't know what you're missing. I never had one before we moved here and it's certainly helped our love-life."

That made me blush - I was still uncomfortable with that kind of admission from an adult. Then he smiled again.

"Hell - I even had my breakfast that way last week."

That created confusion. I tried to imagine having a slice of toast pushed up my ass and failed. Bob guffawed.

"Not all of it! Cindy wanted me to fix some loose shingles but I was real tired. She even brought me a cup of coffee, but I went back to sleep again before I drank it. Then she came back with one of those rubber bulbs, sucked the coffee into it and shot it up my ass!"

"Didn't it scald you?"

"Hell - it was cold by that time. But it had an amazing effect - it went straight into my bloodstream and before I knew it I was jumping around with energy."

"What made her think of that?"

"Oh - coffee enemas are quite well known. She read about it in a magazine and she'd just been waiting for the chance to do it."

I settled back to digest this new and rather unsettling piece of information. Bob looked at me for a while then went to the desk and pulled out a dog-eared magazine.

"If you don't believe me, read this!"

It was a kind of health magazine full of articles about herbs and things, but the one that Bob pointed to was called "Grandma's Health Secrets" and it sang the praises of enemas. What amazed me was the variety of things you could add to them - not just coffee, but a whole list of things like chamomile and catnip! Apparently all you needed for perfect health was an enema bag and a selection of herbs.

I put the magazine away as I heard the sound of footsteps. Louise burst into the room, completely transformed and made for the food.

"I am ravenous! Can we start?"

It was an interesting meal - lots of strange tastes and nearly raw meat, but Louise made me try them all - even if they had been poison I would have opened my mouth while she popped various morsels into it. After we had eaten, I sat in one of the armchairs and Louise sprawled herself over my knees. She smelled different - a faint odor of soap that reminded me she had just had an enema - with the obvious result inside my pants.

I shifted position to get the bulge away from her. Then she giggled as she saw it and deliberately moved so that her thigh came into contact with my erection. She mover her head towards mine and gave me my first real kiss while her leg moved slightly backwards and forwards and drove me to the very brink of disaster.

I panicked, of course. Heck - Bob and Cindy were there, grinning at us, and if I creamed my skivvies I would have to commit hara-kiri or something from the shame. I heaved myself up.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

It was there, of course. That slinky, alluring coil of rubber tube, fitted not with a plastic pipe but with a sort of thin extension tube which terminated in a blunt point with an eye in the side. This was the thing that had been inside Louise - it still glistened with grease - several inches of it!

It felt perverted, but deliciously perverted, as I dropped my pants, knelt on the floor and slid the tube into my own ass. It even seemed warm, although that was impossible. My mind filled with erotic images as I pumped myself to a long, sensuous orgasm, intensified by the stimulation produced by the tube.

Then it was back to the armchair - at least I was pretty safe from disgrace now. We spent what seemed like an eternity kissing and cuddling while Louise's leg slowly took me back to the brink.

Then it was time to go. Cindy looked at me.

"You'll walk Louise home?"

I felt like a fool. I should have thought of that. Still, better late than never! We said our good-byes at the door and started to walk down the drive. As soon as it closed behind us, Louise grabbed my hand and pulled me behind the house into a secluded corner, then pinned me against the wall with another kiss.

It was a shock when I felt her fingers at the front of my slacks and the small vibration as she unzipped them. Then her hand was inside my shorts, grabbing and stroking me into a frenzy. I slid my hand up her dress and fumbled with unfamiliar fabric, feeling damp heat but unable to navigate my way around.

"Attends toi!"

Wait? What for? Louise stepped back and lifted her dress, then removed her panties in one smooth action.

"Et tes pantalons."

I stood, transfixed, until she undid them and pushed my pants down to my ankles.

"Voila qui est mieux!"

"Yeah. That is better!"

I still fumbled, though. Eventually Louise snorted and got hold of my hand, then she guided my finger to a small, hard piece of flesh, one much discussed in the boys' locker room and showed me the right rhythm and pressure to apply....

I was one happy guy when I eventually got to bed, the female odor still on my hand, infinitely stimulating as I inhaled it. My first sexual experience - at least the first non-solo attempt - had worked out just dandy! The only thing was that I still had no idea what it was like to get an enema - although, judging by its effects on others, it was some kind of sexual supercharge.

Louise and I became inseparable. John sulked at first, then the situation drove him to invite the delectable Sarah Gibbons to make up a foursome. To his, and my, surprise, she accepted! I think she learned a few things from Louise too, because John got his dick felt with increasing frequency and Sarah dropped her objections to his hand inside her shirt once she saw that Louise not only let me do it, but positively demanded it!

It was a wonderful time. But it had to end. Finally I stood watching them drive off to the airport, the only chink of light in my misery being the fact that Louise had invited me to stay with them in France the following year. Mom tried to let me down gently by saying that maybe we would both forget about it, that maybe it was just something nice to say - I knew, deep-down, that she was probably right, but I didn't want to accept it.

Then it was time to go back to school - and the greatest shock of my entire life. The principal told us that Mrs. Black, our home-room teacher, would be away for a while, having a baby. Then he introduced the substitute teacher. Cindy.

I was more angry than anything else. After school I stormed over to the old house and complained bitterly that she should have warned me in advance. Cindy was upset too.

"George, it only came up yesterday - I put my name on the county list of substitutes, but I didn't get the job. The person who did dropped out at the last moment - until this morning I didn't even know what school they wanted me at."

"You could still have let me know. I felt an idiot when the principal announced Mrs. Gibbons and then you walked in."

"Honey, don't be angry. It was just one of those things, and it's a wonderful opportunity for me. Jobs teaching are hard to find, and this one is for French - it's ideal. It will make all of the difference to Bob and me to have my salary coming in."

"Are you a real French teacher then?"

"I certainly am. I spent a whole year in Paris after I graduated - you heard me talking to Louise, didn't you?"

I calmed down a bit. As long as the rest of the school didn't find out that I was friendly with a teacher it would be okay.

Next thing I knew, Cindy had started a soccer team. The problem was that I was quite good at the game and I liked playing it so, despite my misgivings, I tried out for it and I was selected.

Cindy was a sensation! You could hear the steady drip of saliva from every boy in the place when she turned out to coach us in a real French shirt and brief, European-cut shorts with a large net of soccer balls.

Then "Butch" Cassidy, the class wit, just had to try it on.

"Can I feel your balls, Mrs. Gibbons?"

Cindy just stood and stared him down. It didn't shut him up though.

"You can feel my balls any time you like. Or would you like to tackle me?"

Cindy ignored him, but he obviously wasn't going to stop.

"How about some head... I mean heading practice?"

"Suppose we see if you can keep goal first?"

I didn't know a soccer ball could move so fast. I couldn't follow it as she kicked it from the penalty spot and it impacted on his groin area with a noise like a pistol shot. He didn't scream or anything - it was like his bones turned to rubber and he just collapsed in a heap. Cindy looked at him for a moment until he started to moan, then she sent me to fetch the nurse.

Poor Butch. The nurse was a much-avoided person, because she didn't seem to have any feelings at all. She hauled his shorts down right there and then and I winced because his balls were already twice their normal size. She slapped the cold-pack that she had fetched on the area - and then he really did scream! Last thing we saw of him was an ambulance driving him to the hospital.

Cindy had absolutely no trouble after that. Even when Butch got back to school, he actually apologized to her and asked if he could still be on the team! We trained real hard in preparation for our first game and I realized that Cindy really did know about soccer - I had a feeling that the team was going to do real well.

John didn't join the soccer squad - he was too busy pursuing Sarah. Then came the big bust-up.

Sarah stormed into school one morning and announced to the world that it was all over.

"That John is a pervert! You know what he wanted me to do?"

Several voices eagerly requested the information.

"He actually wanted me to give him an enema! Is that sick or what?"

A chorus confirmed that it was indeed sick.

"AND... he wanted me to take one as well!"

I felt so sorry for John. He disappeared from school at lunchtime, unable to withstand the mockery and suggestions that he was queer. Maybe I should have defended him - no, that wouldn't have done any good at all. The pack was in pursuit of the fox, ready to tear him to pieces, and an extra fox would have simply given them a second victim.

I felt pretty shabby myself. Suddenly I wondered if they were right - was he perverted? Because if he was, then so was I. Okay - nobody would know what I thought and my anal experiments had been conducted in total privacy, but that only helped a little.

Cindy grabbed me that evening and steered me into her kitchen.

"What's going on? What happened to make John run home?"

"Nothing."

She actually shook me!

"George, there's no time for that. There are all sorts of rumors around the place and I want to know exactly what happened."

"It's too embarrassing."

"Don't be stupid, George. We're friends, aren't we?"

I sat down and tried to choke back the tears.

"The thing is, John had to have an enema a few months back."

"Is that all?"

"No. Sandra said that he wanted her to give him an enema - that's why they broke up. Everybody says that he's a pervert now."

Cindy's face bore an expression of pain.

"Oh my god! The poor boy."

That did it. I completely lost control and I started to cry. Cindy put her arms round my shoulders.

"George? What's wrong?"

It all came rushing out.

"I must be a pervert too. I keep thinking about them and wanting to have one. I don't know what it's like, but I want one just the same. It could have been me instead of John."

She hugged me real tight.

"Honey, don't worry about it. They just don't understand that sex is more than a plug and socket job in the missionary position. You know that Bob and I use enemas now and again, don't you? And we're certainly not perverts."

"But everybody says..."

"Honey, they're just fourteen or fifteen years old. All they know about sex is reading magazines with one hand and masturbating with the other or maybe some amateur groping in the dark. They don't really know what sex is all about."

I sniffled my way back to mere misery. Cindy patted me on the shoulders.

"I'm going to call John's parents and then I need to go and talk to them before John does something silly. We'll talk later if you like."

School next day was a somber affair. John didn't show up, and Cindy tore into the whole class. She was magnificent - she talked about honor and privacy, of loyalty and friendship, of similarity and differences. By the time she finished all of the girls were crying and the boys looked completely ashamed. Then she stood tall and asked the question.

"So. What are you going to do about this?"

It was Butch who stood up - following his near-castration, he had actually become Cindy's greatest fan in the class.

"I reckon some of us should go to his house and say that we're sorry. And ask him to come back to school."

Cindy nodded.

"I think that might be the right thing to do. Three boys and three girls."

They went off straightaway and returned with a pale and sheepish-looking John. Everybody crowded round him, saying sorry and welcoming him back - I was just amazed that Cindy could do something so dramatic - or maybe that she could get others to do it.

I took the opportunity later to get Butch on his own.

"That was a good thing you did, man."

He shuffled his feet - compliments were not normally on our agenda.

"Aw, man, I had to. I mean, it was real bad what we did - I should have told them to back off because I knew what he meant."

"You what?"

"I knew what he was getting at. About taking an enema."

"Butch, what the hell are you talking about?"

He shuffled some more and looked bashful. I waited - Butch could never keep quiet for very long. Finally he sighed.

"You know when Mrs. Gibbons kicked that ball?"

I grinned.

"Nobody will ever forget that, Butch."

"Well, by the time they got me to hospital, everything was swollen up real big."

"I bet!"

"Shut up and listen. They gave me a shot that put me out while they examined me, and when I woke up in bed I found this tube running through the middle of my dick."

I shuddered.

"Honest? Why?"

"Because I couldn't piss any other way, stupid. I think everybody in that hospital came to see my balls - they were all purple and enormous."

"You should have got a picture of them! You could brag about then for life."

He grinned then.

"I did! My big brother took one - awesome, man!"

"Anyway, what's all this got to do with John?"

"Aw, it was all the medicine they gave me - it made me real stuffed..."

"Oh jeez - so you got an enema?"

He nodded.

"They made me have one before they would let me go home. That's how I know why John wanted another one."

"Oh. You liked it then?"

He nodded.

"It was like having sex."

"How would you know?"

He looked sheepish.

"Well - like I reckon it would feel like. Hell - I wasn't expecting it at all when she showed me the tube and told me where it was going - I just thought it was one of those real shitty things they do to you in the hospital."

"Shitty! That's a good one!"

He didn't react to my attempt at a joke.

"I didn't know what was happening to me when she stuck it in my asshole. It was like an electric shock - it went right through me. And when she let the water in it was like I was fucking her - she was real pretty. Next thing I knew, I came in bucketfuls - I hadn't jerked off for more than a week, so it was all just waiting to come out."

"Jeez!"

"Yeah. I thought she would be angry, but she just looked at the stuff and said that everything was working fine!"

I didn't know what to think. I mean Butch was... Butch! Nothing bent about him. Maybe it was okay after all. Then a thought struck me.

"Butch? Why are you telling me all this?"

He set his jaw in a determined stance.

"Because tomorrow, I'm going to stand up in front of the class and tell everybody about it. That will help John out."

Butch was a nice guy and real strong and athletic, but he wasn't great in the brains department.

"Bad idea, Butch."

"Huh? Why?"

"It would just start the whole thing up again. I think you should have paid more attention to Mrs. Gibbons - she said things like that were private."

"Did she? Well, maybe she's right. I'll think about it."

I heaved a sigh of relief. He wouldn't do it now. Thank god.

I don't really know why I told Cindy about Butch and what had happened to him. It was probably just to resume the conversation that had been interrupted. She heard me out, then she hugged me.

"Well done, George. That was exactly the right thing to do."

I felt good - like everybody else I was falling under the spell that made us want to please her. Then she said something strange.

"You let him get it off his chest - it's bad to bottle thing up."

"What do you mean?"

"He wanted to tell somebody - if you hadn't been there that he probably would have bared his soul in public. We all need somebody to talk to, don't we?"

"I suppose so."

"George - didn't it help when you told me your feelings?"

"You want the honest answer?"

"Of course."

"Well - not really. I mean it made me feel better to talk about it, but I still think about it all of the time. It just made me more frustrated to know that Butch knows what it's like and I don't."

Cindy sighed.

"Honey, I'm real sorry for you but there's nothing I can do to help you out."

I just blurted my fantasy out.

"You could give me an enema. Then I would know."

She shook her head firmly.

"No. Absolutely not. It would be all wrong. You're a young boy and you need to discover all the wonderful things about sex and relationships with people your own age. Nobody should spoil that for you. I'm sorry - I wish I could help, but I can't."

I resigned myself to the inevitable. My relationship with John was a little awkward at first, but we gradually returned to the status quo. Eventually things had settled down enough for me to ask him what had happened.

He winced.

"Well - you were there at school. I went out at lunchtime and just wandered around until I could go home - I really did think about killing myself, you know."

I shuddered. A kid had done just that the previous year when he had been rejected by Harvard and had not dared face his father.

"So what happened?"

"Mom could see there was something wrong, but I just went to my room and wouldn't talk to her. Then Mrs. Gibbons arrived and told my parents everything."

"I can't imagine how bad that was."

John shook his head.

"No - I was grateful to her. Mom and dad would have found out anyway and it was better to have it out in the open."

"What did they do?"

"Well - first off, they were pretty surprised, then they calmed down. Mom had a long talk with me and she made me admit that I had just pretended to be stuffed so that I could get that enema from Mrs. Vincent. Then she said it was okay to enjoy enemas, but that I shouldn't play around with them. She threw that thermometer out too."

Something was puzzling me now.

"Hey - you asked Sarah to give you an enema? Where did you get the stuff to do it?"

He looked surprised.

"I bought it, of course. Mom made me throw it out as well."

It sounds stupid, but I had never thought of just buying an enema syringe. Maybe I might find the courage to do the same? Bad idea - it was a small town and my mother was too well known in the drugstore.

Meanwhile, I got into trouble at home when the phone bill arrived - dad hit the roof when he found out that I had been calling Louise and not telling anyone. I was rationed to fifteen minutes a week, or I could save it up and have a whole hour once a month. When he finally finished chewing me out, though, he handed me a brightly colored box.

"Here - never say that I stood in the way of young love!"

I stared at it.

"A modem?"

"Yes. I called the number that appeared so often on my phone bill, and I came to an arrangement with Louise's father."

"What arrangement?"

"Electronic mail, boy. It's time we all got connected anyway."

Wow! My own Internet connection! As much pornography as anyone could handle! That was the first disappointment - dad got a friend of his to set it up and to put a block on most of the sites. He winked at me and said that he didn't want me going blind before I left home.

The second problem was that I wrote to Louise and then connected every couple of hours to get her reply. It came eventually - in French! Several pages in a foreign language.

Okay - there was a solution to that as well. I printed it out and took it to Cindy.

"I got this Email from Louise. Will you help me read it?"

Cindy took it and started to read. Then she went into a fit of giggles.

"I think you should learn to do this yourself, George."

"Why?"

"It's rather ... personal. You still want me to translate it?"

"What does she say?"

Cindy's eyes twinkled and she grinned.

"Just what did happen behind my house, George?"

"Aw SHIT! She didn't say, did she?"

"No - but I can guess from the look on your face."

I sat at the kitchen table and went through a surreal session of translating a love letter with my French teacher. Cindy was right - I had to learn to do it myself. Leaping forward in time, I eventually discovered that it was a plot between my dad and hers to make me concentrate on the language - dad reckoned that so few Americans spoke a foreign language that it would be a real asset to me if I learned one. He was right, but that's really way ahead of the story.

It worked, too. Cindy was more than happy to teach me, I was relieved to be able to read my own mail and John's mom would only speak French to me when she found out what was happening. In a couple of months I was amazed to discover that I could read and speak the language pretty well.

The other thing that took my time was the soccer team. I wasn't brilliant, but I found that I was a good defender - it got me a few sore shins, but I learned to stop fast attacks and earned my place on the team.

It also got me my first home-grown girl - Candi Byers. That was one of those coincidences - she was a gymnast who bounced around on those asymmetric bars that only girls use - and she saw me limping back into the locker room nursing what seemed to be a broken leg at the time.

"Hey - what happened to you?"

"I got kicked. I think it's broken."

"Don't be stupid. Let me see."

I pushed my stocking down and displayed the purpling area on my shin, complete with stud marks. Candi examined it with professional interest.

"It's only bruised. I've had a lot worse than that on the bars. At least you get to wear padding - we don't!"

"It's killing me!"

"Come on - you need cold water on that."

Fortunately the boys locker room was empty - Candi lent me her shoulder to help me walk - it also took my mind off my leg, because she was only wearing a leotard. She took my boots and socks off for me, confirming my suspicion that she was not wearing a bra, then made me sit above the big sink and hold my leg under freezing cold water until the worst of the pain subsided.

"I'll get changed now - my mother is picking me up and I'll ask her to give you a ride home."

Okay. I did exaggerate a bit. But only so that Candi would help me into the car and out again when we arrived home. I don't think mom was fooled much, but she got talking to Candi's mother and insisted on coffee and cookies for everyone. I invited Candi to try the Internet and discovered to my horror that it was absolutely crammed with fashion and gymnastics - still, I had to lean over Candi quite a lot to help her. My story, anyway!

As my friendship with Candi started to develop and we got to the stage of kissing and cuddling with the promise of more to come, I had to deal with the problem of Louise. I felt guilty at first, like I was two- timing, then I reasoned that since she was several thousand miles away and I might never see her again it was reasonable to have a girlfriend that I could actually meet and touch. On the other hand, I didn't tell Candi about Louise - that was too private to share.

As the reputation of the soccer team grew, we traveled further to play against better opposition. That was when I got my chance. We were playing miles from home, in a place where nobody at all knew me, and we had time to kill before the match. That was when I saw a small package in a drugstore which described itself as a "Travelling Enema" - a translucent plastic bag and a coil of clear tubing. On impulse I bought one and hid it deep down in my sports bag.

The journey home was one of high tension as far as I was concerned. We had won the game and everyone was high and singing songs. Except me. I sat there, knowing what was stashed under my seat with a growing sense of excitement which intensified and made me dizzy with anticipation. Once home, I quickly hid it away in the bottom of my closet and waited until bedtime when I could be sure of being alone. Mom sensed that there was something going on - she felt my brow and wondered out loud if I was going to come down with something.

Finally, I was sure that I would not be disturbed - I lay awake for what seemed like hours until mom and dad went to bed before I dared take the thing out of its hiding place.

Just opening the pack produced a level of excitement that made me shiver. An everyday object, really, just pieces of plastic, but I had waited a year or more for this moment.

Then came the practicalities. My bathroom wasn't really equipped for the administration of enemas and I eventually took the laces from one of my soccer boots and used it to hang the bag from the shower rail. I filled it with plain, warm water - the family doctor book said use soap, but I was wary of that and salt sounded way too drastic!

Finally, everything was ready - the pack even contained a little plastic bag of slimy jelly stuff to lubricate the tube. I laid the book out on the floor and knelt in front of it so that I could read the correct angle - towards my navel, it said. Then I grasped the tube in my trembling fingers and searched for my asshole with the tip.

I just about came on the spot when the plastic pushed against the center of my asshole. I took a deep breath and applied a steady pressure like the book said and then slipped it into my ass. It was like the thermometer, but much more so. The semi-rigid tube was difficult to control, it wriggled around as I slowly pushed it in and it felt like it was striking sexual sparks deep inside of me.

The moment of truth. I struggled with the clip - it was stiff as hell - then it suddenly sprang right off the tube and a gush of water and air shot into my butt.

It HURT! It made my guts tie themselves in knots and my stomach muscles try to tear themselves apart. I frantically pulled the tube out and then had to cope with a sudden flood. Eventually I just doubled it between my fingers to stop the flow and then painfully eased myself towards the commode. My guts convulsed again in one mighty spasm that expelled everything in one huge BM and left me weak and panting from the effort.

I had obviously done something horribly wrong. I read the book again, carefully this time, and realized that I had failed to clear the air from the tube - it was dead right - it did cause painful cramping! I thought for a while, then decided to give it another try and to dump the enema bag if it was as bad second time round.

My fingers were trembling again, this time with fear, as I inserted the tube a second time. I folded the tube to hold back the flow - just as well, because the clip did exactly the same thing. I carefully allowed the tube to straighten up. Then I almost passed out as a controlled jet of warm water flowed into my ass.

It was everything I had ever imagined - and more. I soon found the way that I enjoyed most - I increased the flow until the onset of cramping, then clamped the tube as I fought back the butt-clenching near-pain that it produced. It made me tense all over and it kinda shot down my dick in the most fantastic way. Then I repeated the process... The only problem was that I needed three hands. One to control the tube, one to stop me falling flat on my face and the other to rip my dick out by the roots to stop the pleasure from becoming totally unbearable. That had to wait until the bag was empty - then I made up for lost time by frantically searching for orgasm at the same time as I struggled to hold in the liquid. Jeez!

It was like being twelve years old again - the age I first discovered the amazing pleasures that were associated with jerking off rather than fiddling about. It was like that wonderful session with Louise behind the old house...

That thought sent me from ecstasy to misery as the liquid cascaded into the toilet. I was acutely conscious that there was probably much more to the process of taking an enema if it was administered by someone else. That was why John had asked Sarah of course - but no way was I going to make that mistake!

Candi and I were getting on better and better - we were old enough for our parents to leave us strictly alone when we were in either her or my room. We had progressed by then to the stage of undressing - me completely, Candi everything except her panties - that provided access for fingers but prevented us from going the whole way.

For some reason, the topic of John came up - he had eventually managed to find a new girlfriend after a long period when he was regarded with overt suspicion. Candi suddenly giggled.

"I wonder if John has asked Julie for an enema?"

I laughed at the idea.

"I don't think so. Not after Sarah."

"It's a pity he didn't pick the right girl!"

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

She grinned at me.

"Well - you know the problems girls have with gymnastics."

Candi had told me some of them - mainly involving the incompatibility of periods with leotards. I had previously listened in fascinated horror as she had spoken of super-tampons and ultra-thin pads to avoid both spots and detection. But this was new.

"What problems?"

"The asymmetric bars, stupid. You have to curl round them, swing around them and use your stomach to bounce yourself up off them."

An awful suspicion was forming.

"And..."

"And you can't do that unless your bowels are empty, otherwise it hurts like blazes."

I could not believe the implications of what she was saying.

"You mean..."

"I mean that if it's a competition and there's anything inside, then it has to go."

"But... can't you just go to the bathroom? I mean, I can imagine you want your bladder empty."

Candi burst out laughing.

"That's right enough - otherwise you pee yourself."

"But wouldn't that shift everything?"

"Come here - feel."

She guided my hand over her stomach - a pleasant activity at any time. She had no fat at all, of course, and I could feel her bones with ease.

"Here - that's my colon."

A vague cylinder that was situated on her left side.

"Yeah?"

"And that's my bladder - gently, or I'll wet myself."

Jeez - I could really feel it!

"And here's my rectum."

I was amazed.

"It's just like the pictures in the biology book!"

Suddenly her face screwed up.

"Hang on - I need to go to the bathroom."

I listened to the usual female thunder as she peed - I could never work out how they did it so fast and for so long. She looked relieved when she got back and pushed me on to the bed.

"Let me feel you."

Her fingers dug around and I followed their track with mine. She grunted.

"Your bladder is in a different place. Because you're a boy."

I was more concerned with her than with me. My dick said so as she tickled it gently.

"What did you mean when you said that just going to the bathroom didn't get everything out?"

"It only empties your rectum, stupid. Then the stuff from the colon can come down and fill it up again."

I experienced a flashback to the first time when Cindy spoke about her mother.

"Do you need a 'special' to empty it all out?"

"Oh - you know about it then?"

"No. I just heard the word. What does it mean?"

"Well, coach examines us before a competition, and if she finds that our colons are full, she gives us a high enema - that's with a long, long tube that goes all the way up inside us so that it can reach the colon."

"COACH does that?"

"Oh, it's all right - she's a qualified nurse as well as a gym coach. Sometimes mom does it - coach showed her what to get and how to do it."

I was appalled.

"That's diabolical! Why do you put up with it?"

Candi suddenly got serious.

"Because I'm damn good at it, and because coach reckons I have a good chance of getting an athletics scholarship to a good college. If I can make the big time, I would travel all over the world - maybe even the Olympics! That's worth a few enemas, isn't it?"

"Well ... I suppose so."

She continued absently prodding at my guts, then she giggled.

"You could do with a clear-out right now. I bet you wouldn't mind if your coach did it for you? You've got a crush on Mrs. Gibbons - everybody knows that!"

I almost came on the spot. Candi giggled as she prodded my dick with her finger.

"See - he wants her to do it!"

My voice came out hoarse.

"Not her. You."

Candi became suddenly still.

"What?"

"I would prefer you to do it."

She seemed to be thinking - her face bore a faint smile and her eyes were not focused.

"I would, if you had the stuff."

I jumped up and threw stuff around the place until I got to the enema bag.

"I have got it!"

"You little swine! I should have known you knew all about taking an enema before a game!"

"There's one tomorrow. Well - the day after anyway. Come on - you said you would."

"Oh, that's okay. I don't mind even with something as feeble as that!"

Candi certainly knew what she was doing - she even put some soap in the water. I showed her how I tied the bag up and she laughed.

"That's primitive! I guess your mother doesn't know about this?"

"Hell no - she thinks enemas are terrible things."

"Well, I don't. Come on - let's get this done."

I knelt down, trembling with anticipation, then I felt her small fingers probing, pulling, opening me up. The tube wiggled its way slowly inside me - and I couldn't take any more. I just came and collapsed into a pulsating heap on the floor.

I heard Candi's voice from a great distance.

"So that's what coach meant!"

I somehow managed to croak an interrogative grunt. Candi looked serious.

"It was when John got into all of that trouble about that enema. We asked coach what was going on, and she said that some boys were..."

She was searching for the word - then she found it.

"...hypersensitive. I didn't realize what she meant until now!"

Then she picked up the tube again.

"I think maybe you had better lie on the floor for this. Turn on your side."

I had no energy left and Candi had to roll me over - she sure was determined to finish that enema!

At first it was almost unbearable - the insertion of the pipe triggered me into a long series of dry spasms. That earned me a hearty slap on the butt from Candi.

"Behave yourself, boy."

"Yes ma'am. I'm trying to."

As the urgency faded, I settled down and discovered just how pleasant a slow infusion of warm water could be. Eventually, the soap did its work and I felt the desire to empty my bowels grow to unbearable proportions - accompanied with the resurrection of my dick.

Candi giggled when she saw it sticking up while I went through the process of expelling the contents of my rectum.

"You are hypersensitive!"

"No I'm not - I'm just randy."

"I can fix that!"

Unfortunately a lot of time had passed. There was just time for a quick session before we had to dress and compose ourselves for Candi to go home.

We spent alternate weeks at each other's homes, so the following Saturday I walked round to Candi's house and was greeted by her mother - I didn't really like her because she insisted on hugging me and kissing my cheek far too often for my machismo to accept. Then came the bad news.

Candi's little sister - a supercilious twelve year old called Babs, normally spent Saturday evenings with her friends, doing whatever it was that turned little girls on - getting stoned on 7-Up, squealing and wetting their panties over pictures of the latest teen heartthrobs and dissecting their friends in gory detail. Not this Saturday though - apparently she had let her mouth run away in a dispute over taking out the garbage and as a consequence she had been grounded for the night.

Babs sulkily retired to her room - at least Candi had her own bedroom, although they shared a bathroom. Candi glared at Babs as she flounced into her room.

"If you don't leave George and me alone, there will be big trouble for you."

"I'll do what I want. You aren't my mother."

"Remember last month?"

Babs gave Candi a look composed of pure poison before she slammed the door behind her. I raised my eyebrows.

"What was that about?"

Candi smiled.

"Mom always does my enema in my room so that I can have some privacy. Babs decided to walk in and laugh at me while it was going on."

"She is a brat, isn't she?"

"She got her comeuppance though! Mom told her to sit down and wait - then poor Babs got an enema as well. I don't think she'll risk that again - she really didn't like it one bit - and mom promised the same any time Babs decided to bust in on me."

"That was pretty cruel!"

"No way - Babs doesn't do anything until she realizes that it will be worse if she misbehaves. That's why she's grounded tonight - and she still had to take the garbage out."

"Why didn't she like it?"

Candi beckoned me to come into the bathroom, then she opened a closet and revealed the mother of all enema syringes. An enormous rubber bag and a tube that would have served pretty well as a fire-hose. I picked it up and winced.

"It hardly bends at all!"

"Of course - if it did then it wouldn't go to the right place, would it? It would just coil up inside."

"And Babs got this?"

Candi laughed.

"She certainly did! You should have heard the fuss she made."

Then Babs walked in from her bedroom and time stood still for me - I was still holding the tube and I didn't quite know what to do with it. Babs was furious.

"You told him! I knew you would tell him! You're a real bitch, Candi!"

"You know you aren't allowed to bust in on me!"

"This isn't your room. The bathroom is as much mine as yours."

I tried to calm thing down.

"Take it easy, Babs. It was only an enema."

"It was disgusting - that thing poking around inside me. Then all that water - it took ages to get it all out again! I think Candi is a fool - gymnastics isn't worth it if you have to have that thing up your bottom every week!"

Candi grabbed Babs and tried to push her out of the bathroom.

"Get lost, sis. Otherwise I'll tell mom and you'll probably get another dose of the tube!"

"If you tell her then he will probably get it for messing around with the stuff!"

"You didn't get it for that."

"That's all you know. Mom caught me with it the other day and she said that if I was so interested then she would be happy to oblige - so I got it again."

Candi looked at her sister curiously.

"And what were you doing with it?"

Babs turned slowly crimson.

"It's your fault anyway. When you said how George went crazy when you gave him that enema - how he messed on the bathroom floor and everything - I thought maybe I should give it another try."

My blood turned to ice-water as I stared at the bickering sisters. I just dropped the tube and started at Candi.

"You told her?"

Candi looked puzzled.

"She's my sister. We tell each other everything."

"I can't believe you did that."

"What's wrong with you? Babs won't tell anyone - we never do."

"It was PRIVATE, for god's sake. You had no right to tell anybody!"

"What's all the fuss about? Sisters always share their secrets."

"Well, why don't you both just go to hell? I'm going home."

There was really nothing else I could do. It cost me my girlfriend, but I couldn't go with somebody if I knew that she was going to tell her kid sister everything we did. Candi called a couple of times but I just put the phone down on her - it hurt like hell though.

The very worst bit was that there was nobody I could tell my troubles to. Certainly not mom or dad, not even Cindy or Bob - and definitely not John! I turned to my computer just for something to do, and read the new mail from Louise. Another person that I couldn't tell!

It was a bubbly letter, all about Summer vacation. I had to read it twice before it sank in - Louise wanted me to come over as well as John and his family. It was a fantastic offer - two whole months in the South of France - where bikini tops were optional! It lasted as long as it took to call John and to get the bad news - his parents couldn't make it this year and had promised him a Christmas skiing vacation instead.

Not that we let it stop us - we were fifteen now and quite old enough to go by ourselves. Hell - a plane was only a bus that flew - and we would be staying with a family over there. The clincher, from my viewpoint, was Cindy. She was really enthusiastic about the idea of me spending the summer in France to improve my conversation - and she was quite happy to tell my parents that.

It wasn't easy, of course, but I said that I wanted to major in languages when I went to college and that I reckoned I would try for a career in the State Department afterwards. Dad eyed me skeptically, even though it had been his idea in the first place, but mom and Cindy just lapped it up. Anyway - all I needed was the air fare because the rest was free! Monsieur and Madame LeBrun were quite happy to provide bed and board in their summer home!

Eventually we wore them down - in the end dad reckoned he would happily pay them to keep me for good if only I stopped whining. I got my very own passport and mom, I reckon, was disappointed to find that I didn't need any shots to go to France - she always had a thing about shots, that woman. She bought extra underwear instead and I had to listen to dozens of lectures about behavior and personal cleanliness and how the LeBruns were going to be the same as parents while I was over there. I just agreed with everything - no way was I giving anybody an excuse to say that I couldn't go!

It must have looked like a convention when they put us on a commuter plane to New York, complete with written instructions, tickets, passports and clean handkerchiefs. Actually, it was dead easy - when we got there we were taken straight to the airline desk by the air hostess lady (who said they were cabin attendants now but smiled at us a lot).

Then it was hurry up and wait - we both got sore butts from sitting around waiting for the plane after we called home and told our parents that we had made it that far. Finally we were ushered down a long corridor, right at the end of the line because we hadn't heard the flight called and they had needed to fetch us for it.

Dad didn't like wasting money - we looked out of the windows at the strange airliner that was waiting for us and John guffawed.

"It says 'Virgin' on it."

That struck us both as highly amusing. John started to make fun of it.

"Does that mean you have to be a virgin to travel on it?"

I pulled a face - it was a sore point with me that Candi and her new boyfriend were reputed to be screwing each other insensible.

"Well - we qualify."

John grinned.

"If this vacation goes the way I hope, we'll have to get a different airline back home!"

Our sniggers were interrupted by a polite tap on the shoulders and a cool English voice from the cabin attendant who had crept up behind us while the rest of the passengers had disappeared without us noticing.

"Would you mind boarding, gentlemen?"

I could see from her face that she had been listening to our conversation. Major embarrassment for both of us.

"Er... yes, ma'am. Sorry."

When we got into the plane, we could see that she was telling the other attendants about us - they all laughed, then one of them came to our seats.

"There are a couple of empty seats in club class, gentlemen. We would like your last trip with Virgin Airlines to be as pleasant as possible. If you would like to follow me?"

"We've only got ordinary tickets. And no money."

She smiled.

"We call it bumping - if there are unsold seats then we offer them to special passengers free of charge."

We got a few hostile stares as we went forward through a curtain into an area with bigger seats and no kids. It really was very comfortable - loads of room and seats that you felt like going to sleep in.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"It's the least we can do for your final journey."

I felt like a king when they came round with the food - and gave each of us a small bottle of wine to go with the meal. Then we got the biggest treat of all.

"The captain would like to know if you wish to visit the flight deck."

Jeez - it was awesome. Zillions of gauges and dials with mystifying switches and levers. The captain grinned at us - he had obviously been told the joke too.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen."

I just had to ask.

"Do you always call kids gentlemen? Is that what English people do?"

That made him laugh.

"We try to be polite. It's not always easy though. The girls tell me that you are embarking on a great adventure."

"AW...!"

We did real well out of that flight! We even got special ties and pens and things. Tons of goodies.

Heathrow was scary. Cops with bullet-proof vests and machine guns! Worse still, we had twelve hours to wait for the plane to Nice. John wasn't happy.

"Why don't we go into town for a while?"

"You heard them when we phoned home - we have to wait here."

"How would they know? Come on - let's go."

There was nowhere to check our bags - we asked one of the Virgin ladies and she said it was because of terrorists. Then she hid them behind her desk - sometimes it was useful to be famous, even for being virgins.

It didn't take long to get to the center of London - the train turned into a subway coach and deposited us at what they call an underground station - the lady had advised Oxford Street, because that was where all of the famous stores were.

London is weird - one minute you're in the middle of a big city, the next you're in a small back street that looks a thousand years old with shops that sell all sorts of sex things. We gazed in the windows and tried to work out what the devices were for - and that's when I spotted the strangest object of all. It was red and it was rubber. It had a bulb in the middle and a shaped black nozzle that could only fit one possible orifice. I dug John in the ribs.

"That's for giving enemas!"

"What is?"

"That rubber thing there - it must be some kind of pump."

"Jeez. I think you're right!"

"I'm going to buy it."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Then a sudden shadow and a cough made us spin round. It was one of those English cops - the ones with the funny hats.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Up to town for the day are we?"

"We're Americans."

"Are you, now. That's nice for you. Staying here?"

"No Sir. Just passing through. We're going to France."

He nodded gravely.

"I'm sure you two boys don't need any of this stuff. Why don't I walk you to the underground - you'll need to be getting back to the airport, I suppose?"

We tailed miserably behind him, sure that everyone was looking at us. When we got to the station he smiled.

"Take my advice, boys. You really don't need that sort of stuff - just find a nice young girl and let nature take its course, eh? Good afternoon to you."

I felt terminally humiliated. He actually thought we wanted to buy some of those giant rubber dicks? Or the strange plastic objects with teeth? Let me out of here!

We arrived back at the airport and found that we were actually late - we grabbed our bags and raced to the Air France desk and then sprinted to the boarding gate, arriving just in time and getting some pretty vicious glares from the people there. It only took a couple of hours to get to Nice - the airport was right next to the Mediterranean Sea and it looked just fantastic - deep blue with white sandy beaches. I felt a fool when one of the attendants heard me comment on the color of the sea - she told me that it was the reason why they called this the Cote D'Azur with the scorn that only the French can manage.

We didn't even have to show our passports - we just walked out. Then I was hit by a small tornado.

"Georges! Mon ami! Comment va tu?"

I didn't get a chance to answer because she was blocking my mouth with her tongue. Her parents looked on fondly - if they had been American they would probably have gone looking for a shotgun instead. Then she pushed me away from her and wrinkled her nose.

"Quelle puanteur!"

"Yes - I stink. We've been travelling for more than a day."

Madame LeBrun took charge of us and magicked us and our luggage into one of those people-carrier things. Louise pointedly sat beside the open window for the journey - I tried to explain that I couldn't help it, but that made no difference. Madame LeBrun chuckled.

"I asked my husband to fill le Jacuzzi - I thought you might need it."

I looked at John, who nodded and grinned as though he knew something that I didn't. I was really looking forward to a bath and I'd never experienced a real live Jacuzzi before - it would get the ache out of my butt too!

It was outside! The house was one of those long, low places, built in an L-shape, and it had its own swimming pool with the circular shape of the hot-tub just beside it. These people had some serious money, if this was their summer home!

I wasn't sure about the Jacuzzi though. It looked awful public - I wondered if I should try to find my swimming trunks or whether to just bathe in my shorts. Then came the shock.

John grinned widely and just stripped to the buff. I started to do the same, but I was beaten into the tub by a naked Louise. And her mother just stood and smiled! I was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to France than a foreign language!

The hot water was wonderfully cleansing and the air bubbles massaged my entire skin - I decided there and then that when I grew up, the first thing I was going to buy was a Jacuzzi. Then Louise pinched my butt.

"Wake up, Georges. Time for a swim."

She jumped out of the tub and executed a graceful dive into the pool. I followed and felt my heart stop before it decided to start again - the water felt absolutely freezing after the hot tub. I swam a couple of lengths then jumped out into a towel that Madame was holding out to me and started to dry myself off.

I don't remember much after that. I know we ate something but the lack of sleep caught up with me - somebody put me to bed, but I had absolutely no memory of anything else until I finally awoke with a bladder at bursting point and an erection to match. Fortunately someone had unpacked my things so I scrambled into my gown and located a bathroom.

The relief of taking a piss seemed to trigger my system into action. It started as a vague pain low down in the area of my bladder, a pain which rapidly grew in intensity accompanied with a desperate need to take a shit. I quickly sat on the toilet - the pain doubled me up in agony as my guts contracted in an attempt to expel their contents. My asshole added its protest as something enormous tried to force its way through it. I sobbed and tears ran freely down my cheeks as the pain increased beyond the point where I thought it simply could not get worse.

"Mon Dieu! Que s'est-il passé?"

Madame LeBrun stood in the doorway, looking concerned.

"I have to go, but I can't!"

She eased me to my feet and her fingers probed my stomach - that hurt like hell and I yelped.

"Quelle horreur!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Tu es constipé!"

Constipated? Jeez - the last shit I had taken was the day before we left home - but constipation didn't hurt like this, did it? Then I saw Madame LeBrun reach up to an enameled cylinder that I had not really noticed before which was sitting on a small shelf on the wall. A long coil of black rubber tube fell down from behind it and I suddenly recognized what the apparatus was for. Madame paid no attention to me - she was too busy filling it up with hot water.

"Undress please."

Even the sight of the nozzle - black, six inches long with a rounded lump on the end - did not deter me. I would have accepted disembowelment if it had offered the prospect of the pain going away.

It was certainly not an erotic procedure - the enema was painful and Madame LeBrun was far from gentle. I knelt on the floor and yelled in agony as she used the nozzle like a poker to stir and to break up the lumps inside of me. By the time she had finished I was reduced to a sobbing heap of humanity.

She helped me up and steered me to the toilet. Several large lumps squeezed themselves out, followed by a rush of water - and then a sound like the Last Trump as an incredible amount of evil-smelling gas rasped from my anus. I felt my belly deflate like a pricked balloon and the pain vanished as if by magic to be replaced by a relief that was verging on euphoric.

Madame LeBrun approached me with a wet towel and wiped away the tears from my face.

"Merci, madame."

"Pas de problème, m'sieur."

That made me laugh. French people didn't often translate English phrases into their own language. Madame LeBrun insisted on bathing me afterwards - actually it was rather nice to be babied once in a while.

She let me eat, but not very much, then she pointed to a grassy hill.

"They are on the beach. But you must not swim today."

I had no intention of swimming - my guts felt like they had been kicked violently by a particularly malicious mule. I put my swim shorts on, picked up a towel and walked slowly and carefully to the beach.

Louise greeted me affectionately whilst John grinned happily from the center of a group of three topless girls. I explained what had happened and Louise gave me a sympathetic hug.

"Poor Georges! I have had that and it is not amusing."

"You've had it?"

"Oh yes - but only twice. Maman normally uses the thin tube and that is very pleasant, but that black thing - oh no!"

"Pleasant?"

She grinned and looked me straight in the eyes until I just had to laugh - we understood each other.

That holiday was memorable in many ways, but the one thing I will never forget is sneaking down to the beach one moonlit night with Louise and making love for the very first time to the sound of the sea. I don't think it was her first time - she knew exactly what to do and she helped me to get it right. After that I embarked on a postgraduate study course - maybe not every French person is skilled in the arts of love, but Louise certainly was!

We kept it to ourselves - I didn't even tell John what had happened. He was having a whole heap of fun of his own, chasing after the trio of girls and he certainly didn't tell me what he was doing! Fortunately, we all had our own room and the windows were always open, so clandestine meetings with Louise were very easy to achieve.

After our first session, she took me to town and into a shop which sold jewelry. Then she bought me a slim gold ring and placed it on my finger. I was totally embarrassed - I didn't have enough cash to buy her one.

But I did have the card which Dad had given me for use in extreme emergency only. I decided that it was worth whatever punishment I got when I returned home - so I used it.

At one stage it seemed like the holiday was lasting for ever - then the end came into sight and accelerated towards us. I started to pack with the aid of Louise who had already stolen half of my clothes - okay, they did look better on her than on me, and there was a certain cachet amongst the girls in terms of worn real American garments, but it did mean that I was going to have something else to explain when I got home. I looked up to see John following Madame LeBrun past the door.

Louise giggled and I looked at her, puzzled.

"What's so funny?"

"You will find out."

"Tell me!"

"Oh - it is nothing."

"Tell me or I'll take my clothes back!"

She pouted.

"It is nothing - maman told me about how you suffered and she is going to make sure that she does not send both of you back home with the gas."

It took a moment for it to sink in.

"We have to have an enema?"

She nodded, her eyes alight with what seemed like excitement. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it - not after my previous experience in that bathroom.

Eventually John passed by on the way back to his room - he didn't even turn his head, so I guessed that maybe he hadn't exactly enjoyed the session. Then Madame LeBrun appeared and beckoned to me.

"Your turn now, Georges."

Louise suddenly reacted.

"No. He is mine. I will perform the lavement for Georges."

Madame LeBrun gave one of those Gallic shrugs that says so much and I suddenly got the feeling that she knew just what had been going on between Louise and me.

"Bien sur, mes jeunes. A tout a l'heure."

See you later? She did know!

Louise propelled me into the bathroom, locked the door behind us and made disapproving noises when she saw that long black nozzle.

"Oh - poor John! He has not enjoyed that!"

She just pulled it from the tube and then attached a much thinner, tapered one without any bulge on it.

"You will like this better."

In fact, I wouldn't have cared what she used. I didn't need to be told to strip off - my clothes hit the floor immediately. Louise greased the pipe in what can only be described as a seductive manner and then waited for me to kneel down.

I just about hit the roof when she gently and slowly worked that thin pipe into my ass - the only thing that kept me on the ground was that she grabbed my balls with one hand and squeezed them gently at the same time as the nozzle went in! And that added another dimension to the enema - she kept squeezing them and releasing them while she slowly ran the water into my ass. I came but that didn't stop her - she just kept on doing it while I writhed in sweet agony.

I couldn't leave it there, of course. After I took my shit, I picked up the nozzle and acted masterful.

"Now you. Strip."

She giggled and complied. I had never done this before - I cautiously inserted the nozzle while Louise giggled and wriggled. Not that the enema was completed - I got some water in before the emotion overcame both of us and we screwed right there on the bathroom floor.

Next day I picked up my somewhat slim bags and waited for the car to come round to the door. Monsieur LeBrun embraced both of us, then slid an envelope into my hand.

"A compensation for my daughter's larceny."

I didn't open it until we were on the plane to London - it contained about five hundred bucks worth of Francs! Maybe I was saved after all!

The only thing I really had to do in London was to revisit that shop. It was tight in time, but I rushed into town, found the place and bought one of those syringes. I made it back to Heathrow and changed the francs into dollars and then I discovered that the inevitable had happened - it was the same plane with the same crew that was taking us back to the States.

This time they just took us straight into club class - I was getting to like this airline! They were too bust for a while, then two of the stewardesses came to talk to us.

"We weren't expecting to see you two on Virgin Airlines again!"

I grinned. Whoever said that Brits didn't have a sense of humor?

"Aw, you won't report me, will you? I know I don't qualify any more, but I just wanted to use up the ticket."

John emitted a sudden snort.

"You did it? With Louise?"

"Yeah. Dozens of times. How about you?"

I felt sorry for him. He went bright red and just shook his head in total misery.

We had a sort of minor celebration on the plane - they gave each of us a glass of real champagne. John sulked a lot though and he just looked away when they asked if we wanted to go and see the captain. He got up out of his seat and shook hands with me.

"I believe congratulations are in order?"

Maybe I should have gotten mad, but they were just so friendly that I couldn't. Then the captain handed me a long, slim box.

"A memento of your experience. I now declare you an honorary virgin - you can still fly with us."

I examined the gift when I got back to my seat and then just pushed it into the pocket of my jacket. What was it with these Brits and their ties?

Mom and dad met me and said the usual things about how brown I was and how much I had grown. As soon as I got home, I asked dad if I could talk to him and we went into his study. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Dad, I did something real bad, but I'll make it up. I bought Louise a ring on that credit card."

"Oh? And why would you do that?"

I held out my hand and showed him my ring.

"She bought this for me. I couldn't be a cheapskate, could I?"

"Huh - it certainly wasn't cheap!"

"You know already?"

"Yeah - I got the bill last week."

Then he grinned and ruffled my hair.

"I just hope it was worth it!"

There was something strange about the atmosphere. Then dad winked at me and I realized he was somehow aware of the other thing.

"Yeah, dad, it sure was!"

And then I realized what was happening as dad stuck out his hand. I was being allowed into the world of men for the first time in my life. WOW!

"Monsieur LeBrun gave me some money because Louise wanted to keep most of my clothes."

I pulled the cash out of my pocket and held it out to him.

"I know that, son. He called to apologize for what she had done and he told me about the money. I'm proud of you, son - another guy might have tried to keep that for himself. Hey - what's this?"

The tie in its box had fallen on to the floor.

"Aw, it's just one of those things they give to passengers - you can have it."

He opened the box and then burst into laughter.

"The Mile High Club? What on earth did you get up to in that airplane?"

"Huh? I don't know - nothing special except we got champagne. The captain gave me the tie afterwards. Why do you ask?"

"The Mile High Club is a pretty exclusive one - it's for guys who... make love in planes while they're flying. Why did you get champagne anyway?"

So I told him the whole story - somehow I just knew that he would understand. At the end of it he wiped away his tears of laughter and slapped me on the back.

"Just as well we don't get the London Times - it's probably on the front page by now. You want the tie back?"

"Heck no. You keep it."

He grinned like a small boy.

"Just wait until the guys in the office see this! I'll make up a real good story to go with it too!" I was shocked.

"You'll tell lies?"

"Son, we all tell lies. Like you're not going to tell mom about Louise. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

He handed the money back to me.

"Give that to mom so you can get some new clothes. She'll be so pleased to get some cash that she won't ask awkward questions."

I had enough brains left before the jet-lag kicked in to hide my illicit imported syringe. Next day I adamantly refused to let mom take me shopping - her taste ran to brightly colored garments which looked great on a ten year old kid but plain stupid on a nearly-sixteen.

To my surprise, dad actually agreed with me. He said that if I was old enough to travel to a foreign country by myself then I could probably manage to shop for clothes on my own.

There was another reason why I didn't want to be supervised. Louise wanted a pair of real American jeans - girl's fitting, not boy's - with buttons, not a zipper, and she had given me the money to buy them.

That meant I had to go into a ladies department - and that was when I realized that she had given me the size in French measurements, not US. I was trying to divide by 2.54 in my head while I stood in front of a pile of folded jeans when I was interrupted by a laugh. Two laughs. From Sharon and Maxine, two girls in my class.

"Aren't you in the wrong place, George?"

"Maybe he prefers ladies clothing?"

People were looking at me and I felt my face burning. I had to say something.

"I'm buying some jeans for a girl."

"Oooh! Who's the lucky lady?"

"Nobody you would know - she's in France. John's cousin. She wants me to send her some real jeans with buttons and she's given me the continental size."

Deprived of inside information and soothed by 'cousin' the girls actually became quite helpful. They got the store to wrap them for posting abroad, to put a special label on for customs inspection and even to agree to put them in the mail for me. I repaid them with coffee and cream cakes which they consumed greedily while they complained that I was making them fat. Weird things, girls.

Sharon had to go, and that left Maxine to grill me about what else I was buying. She looked shocked when I told her that I had to get clothes for myself.

"Boys are no good at shopping - they just buy the first thing they see. How much money have you got?"

"Three hundred bucks."

Her eyes widened.

"Your mom let you out with that much money? She needs her head examined - come on, I'll help you."

It was a long session, but even I had to grudgingly admit that Maxine was useful. She made me try things on and was ruthless in discarding those that she did not like - I was even quite pleased with the final selection. Then I heard a woman calling. Maxine turned round.

"It's my mother - she said she would pick me up. Come on - you need a ride with all those parcels."

I knew Mrs. Gordon by sight - we piled into the car and Maxine said that I was coming for tea. I got a definite feeling that I was being railroaded, but Maxine was a nice girl and she had been very helpful. Stupid idea. I felt like a tailor's dummy after we had tea because Maxine insisted that I try everything on again, much to the amusement of her kid brother, a cheerful five year old called Pete whose room I had to use to change in. Then they gave me a ride home and I had to go through the whole thing again for mom's approval. After they had gone, mom seemed pleased.

"That Maxine is a nice girl. Good taste too. I'm glad you took advice from somebody even if your mother wouldn't do."

In fact, I was beginning to think the same thing. Louise was already fading from my mind and Maxine was a nice girl! Even better - she was here!

That began a gentle relationship as she and I got to know each other while our families did the same - well, our mothers did, anyway.

I visited Cindy to show off my newly fluent French - she squealed with glee when she realized how much better it was. I got a different reaction from John's mother though. She looked at me with horror.

"What have they done to you?"

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"Your accent - it is Provencal!"

"Is that bad?"

"My dear, it is like speaking as a hillbilly here."

I grinned.

"Bill Clinton seems to manage okay."

She pouted.

"He is a mere president - all you need for that is votes. But to speak as a Frenchman - that is something special. You will come to speak to me each week - I will teach you Parisian French, the true language."

That was when I realized that Cindy had not heard the difference. And that was when I decided that I was going to college in Paris. It wasn't quite the right time to say so - I would leave it until later.

Meanwhile, I had discovered the joys of my new syringe. It was a vast improvement over the flimsy travelling equipment - the nozzle was shaped so that when it was inserted it stayed in position. I liked the feeling of the sudden jet of water when I squeezed the bulb and the way I could vary its intensity. Best of all, it was fitted with valves so that the liquid didn't run back.

I rapidly evolved my favorite method - a pitcher of warm water beside my bed with the tail of the syringe anchored in it with a peg, me under the sheets with the tube snaking its way into my asshole, one hand behind me to squeeze the bulb, the other to stroke myself to a glorious climax while I thought of Louise - and then some time later of Maxine.

Things were going slowly with her, something which made her even more desirable as I anticipated the final conquest. We got some privacy when she came to my house, but Pete or her mother was always around when I visited with her. I quite liked Pete - he was a real cute kid - but you can have too much cute kid when you really want to be alone.

Like most little kids, Pete's bath time was an exciting affair involving naval battles between brightly colored plastic animals and a variety of submarines - he saw nothing strange in a plastic frog launching torpedoes and being dive-bombed by a bar of soap. Either his mother or Maxine officiated at the ritual while I held a towel ready in case of the dreaded soap-in-my-eyes problem.

One Saturday evening, Mrs. Gordon decided to visit with her neighbor and left Maxine to attend to Pete's bath. She popped him in to the hot water then looked down at herself.

"Help me with the zipper, George - this is a good dress and I don't want it to get saturated."

My fantasy that she was going to strip naked was abruptly aborted - I pulled the zipper down part way and she went into her room and returned wearing a long tee shirt. It was pretty good thought - her underwear showed clearly through the wet patches as the bath proceeded and I got a picture of Bob with that paintbrush....

Everything went as usual until she started to soap him down after the water games had finished - she rubbed soap over his tummy - and he winced.

Maxine fixed him with an accusing look.

"You haven't pooped, have you?"

He shook his head. Maxine pursed her lips and continued washing him down, then she wrapped him in a towel and lifted him from the bath as usual.

I watched as she opened the bathroom cabinet and got a flat, white box out of it. She opened the end of the box and withdrew a strip of plastic holding what looked like miniatures of the Apollo capsule in shaped holes.

"This will fix you up, Pete."

She dipped one of the translucent pieces of jelly in warm water and walked back to him. Pete dropped the towel, turned round and bent over the tub with his legs spread wide apart and it was only then that I realized the thing she was holding was a suppository - I had heard of them but never seen one.

It was all very quick - she bent forward and placed the tip of the thing against his asshole, then I got an electric feeling in the pit of my stomach as her finger propelled the thing way inside his ass and held it there for what seemed like a very long time before she removed her finger and went to wash her hands.

"Pete - you're a bad boy. How long have you been keeping all that stuff in there?"

"Long time. Can I go now?"

"No. Wait for it to work, otherwise you'll only have to have another one."

She finally gave him permission at the point when he was jumping from one foot to another with an expression of pain on his face. He immediately took an enormous shit -while I picked up the box like I didn't have a lot of interest in it. Glycerin Suppositories - Infant Size, eh? Now who had mentioned glycerin? - oh hell - mom said she had to have it when she was a kid!

Pete finished and submitted to being cleaned up with the sponge, then Maxine dried and powdered him ready for his pyjamas.

"Bed now, Pete."

He scampered toward his room, then stopped in the doorway and grinned at both of us.

"Are you going to give George one now? Can I watch?"

"Bed! You little monster!"

Maxine took the packet from me and turned it over in her hands.

"These wouldn't work anyway - they're baby size."

My voice came out as a croak.

"Oh? I didn't realize."

She picked out a larger pack and showed me its contents - two rows of large, amber jelly bullets.

"These are adult size..."

The atmosphere felt like it was charged with high voltage electricity. I tried to work out what was happening - was this just an innocent situation where Maxine was merely displaying something? We hadn't gone far down the sexual route - just a few stolen kisses, so she couldn't really be suggesting that she administer one.

"You can use one if you need it."

It suddenly had gotten worse and, not for the first time, I wished for the gift of telepathy so that I could know what she really wanted.

"I never had one before."

That was good - particularly the 'before'. Now she had to respond.

"Oh - they're real easy to use. You just dip them in water and they go all slippery, then you just pop it in."

Neat return. The ball was back in the air, heading towards me.

"I don't think I could do that. I never did it before."

Maxine had picked one out now and she was rolling it between her fingers, looking at it, not at me. I waited, saying mental prayers.

"Well... I know how to do it. I could do it... if that's what you want...."

Yesssssss! Don't act too eager though!

"Maybe that would be best - I have been having some trouble with my bowels recently. You sure you don't mind?"

Maxine beamed.

"Of course not. Just bend over like Pete did and I'll do it for you."

I faced the tub and undid my belt, then I let everything fall round my ankles before I bent forward and grasped the rim of the bath. I didn't dare look round as I heard Maxine approach and felt her hands - soft, cool and gentle - touch my bare butt.

"This will only take a second."

It was the longest second in the history of the universe. I felt my body stiffen automatically as the rounded end of the suppository pushed against my asshole. I gritted my teeth to choke down the moan that tried to come out. Then the thing was way inside me and my asshole was gripping something warm, soft and rigid. Nobody had put their finger in there before and I was momentarily shocked at the strength of the sexual feelings it was arousing - a whole new dimension on a theme of rectal pleasure.

It lingered there far longer than I reckoned was necessary - my asshole muscles gripped the finger and attempted to expel it without success while my dick swelled and throbbed with an entirely new version of sexual pleasure. Eventually the finger slid out and I rapidly pulled my pants back up and trapped my unruly penis against my belly before I turned round.

We didn't say anything, but now we weren't fooling each other any more. I was distracted by a burning sensation and moved towards the toilet - to my utter relief Maxine stepped out of the bathroom while I took my shit - and masturbated with utter intensity.

Okay - now it was her turn. I took one of the bullets and dipped it in water - it really did got all slimy - and then carried it into Maxine's room.

"You want yours in here or back in the bathroom?"

Dead silence. For one awful moment I wondered if she was going to tell me that she didn't want a suppository. Then she nodded, turned round, pushed her panties down and bent over her bed.

My hand was shaking so much that I had to pause for a moment. Then I prised her cheeks apart and saw that her anus was already open revealing a sort of conical hole disappearing into her body - that was surprising - I didn't know it could do something like that!

I positioned the suppository and it slid in without any resistance and left my finger investigating its unique new surroundings. It felt strange - the skin was warm and silky smooth, I could feel the tube opening out into her rectum, my finger was gripped by internal muscles - and at the same time she gasped in a way that I recognized - she was really turned on!

I held my finger in position as she started to move and moan - Christ - she was getting off! She went right through the whole ritual and finally her anal muscles gripped hard and pulsed while she moaned and gasped in an intense climax! Unbelievable!

Then she was all business. She came out of the bathroom in her underwear and put her dress back on with hardly a glance at me, then led me back to the kitchen and made coffee for both of us.

Afterwards, when I got home, I lay on my bed and mentally surveyed what had happened - it was a real revelation to discover that a girl could come like that, just by me fingering her asshole.

I could hardly wait until the next week when she came to my place. It was soon obvious that she had changed dramatically - we were soon naked and my fingers sought her love-button while she kneaded my butt and teased my asshole with her finger before she plunged it deep inside of me and commenced a sort of internal massage that drove me wild.

I could feel how wet she was and I started to slide my finger inside her. Then she suddenly pushed away from me, grabbed my hand and moved it to her asshole. As soon as I penetrated that, she went crazy and moved quickly to her climax, leaving me in a state of complete frustration when she stood up, went to wash her hand and then got dressed, completely satisfied with the evening's activities.

It took me a while to discover that Maxine was interested only in one way of reaching a climax - and that once she had done so she lost all further desire. Not in a selfish sort of way - she just switched off sexually and wanted to something else. Like play Scrabble. No other form of contact excited her and she didn't seem to know - or maybe care - that for me the anal part was great foreplay but that there was more to life than having a finger stuck up my ass. I even gently suggested that she might like to take an enema but she just shook her head and said that she knew what she liked and an enema wasn't it.

Eventually I got to the stage where I avoided being alone with her - I had never imagined that sex could become so boring and unsatisfying that I would prefer watching TV in the family room! I really appreciated soccer in those days, because it gave me the excuse to plead fatigue.

In fact our team was going from strength to strength - and Cindy managed to arrange a tour for Spring Break. That meant we all had to take physicals. My turn came and I went down to the nurse's office - they had a doctor come in to the school to examine us.

It was a typical physical - until he got to my balls. The doctor paid a lot of attention to them and the area around them before he raised his head.

"How long have you been like this?"

"Like what?"

"Give me your hand."

He guided it into my groin and moved my fingers up and down.

"Feel it?"

I was still in third degree shock from discovering the lump.

"Yeah? What is it? Is it serious?"

"You can get dressed now and I'll write a note for your family doctor."

"WHAT IS IT?"

He stared at me like I was an idiot.

"It's a small hernia, of course. I'm surprised you didn't notice it before now."

"Is it serious?"

"Serious? Oh no - not at all. It's almost minor surgery nowadays. Send the next boy in will you?"

I staggered out, with only one word ringing in my ears. Surgery? I had to have an operation? Oh JESUS!

Dad was totally blasé when I told him about it.

"That will cramp your amorous style for a week or three! Don't worry about it - it's just a cross men have to bear."

Even my mother didn't seem at all perturbed - although I reckon she was pretending so as not to scare me. Cindy seemed a lot more concerned with where she was going to find a new central defender and Bob just laughed. I fired up my computer and composed a long letter to Louise - she at least would be sympathetic.

I waited in vain for a reply. Okay, maybe I hadn't written her as often as I should, but I was devastated by the fact that she didn't say a single word. I wondered if I should call her, but hell - if she wouldn't reply to my mail then she would probably not answer her phone either.

I was pretty scared when mom took me to the hospital. The only amusing thing was that a nurse handed me a disposable razor and a can of foam and then stood and watched as I shaved off my pubic hair - hell, I hadn't expected my first shave to be in that particular area! I had to take a bath in some kind of antiseptic, then she loaded me on a gurney, someone stuck me in the arm and the lights went out.

I slowly came back to the world to the sound of raised voices somewhere in the neighborhood. Typical French, typical Louise - she was screaming French obscenities at some doctor or nurse. I just hoped he didn't know what 'sale con' meant, nor that 'putain' meant either 'whore' or 'fuck' depending on the volume. Maybe it meant both - she was really getting angry.

It took a while for my addled brain to realize that Louise wasn't here - and then suddenly she was. She stormed into the room, stopped and then wailed in distress.

"Oh you POOR boy! What have they done to you? They are barbarians, these doctors, to cut you open!"

"Louise?"

"Qui d'autre veux-tu que ce soit?"

I laughed, then stopped because it hurt. Who else indeed?

"How on earth did you get here?"

"In an aeroplane, of course. When my lover is dying, I must be at his side."

Sometimes French didn't translate all that well...

Things quietened down and they managed to get Louise out of the room without putting her in a straitjacket. The nurse shook her head in disbelief.

"She came all the way from France to see you?"

"She's like that. Impulsive...."

Then she smiled.

"It's soooo romantic...."

Next time I woke I felt much better. Mom was there, holding my hand.

"How are you feeling, honey?"

I relaxed.

"Fine. I had this weird dream, though - I thought Louise was here all the way from France!"

Mom patted my hand.

"That was the anaesthetic, honey. It often gives you strange dreams."

Then a Gallic scream echoed down the corridor.

"He is awake? You did not tell me?"

...and Louise stormed into the room. It hadn't been a dream after all! Mom stared at her, then got down to practicalities.

"What on earth are you doing here, girl?"

"I came to see poor Georges. He needs me."

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming? Is your mother with you? Or your father?"

Louise suddenly looked real guilty. Mom stared hard at her.

"They do know where you are, don't they?"

"They would only have been difficult about it - so I just came by myself."

"Oh my GOD! What are they thinking now? They must be quite frantic! You're coming home with me right now, young lady, while we sort this out."

They let me out of hospital next morning after the doctor examined me, decided that I was alive, painted my groin pink and gave mom a list of instructions. Louise bounced around, trying to push my wheelchair, kissing everything in a white uniform and thanking "Le Bon Dieu" at the top of her voice.

I got the story when we arrived home - Louise had helped herself to all of the cash she could find, picked up her passport and traveled standby across the Atlantic. She was completely unrepentant - all she wanted was to play nurse with me and my hernia. I could see that mom was getting more and more annoyed with her, but even mom could not control Louise - she just did exactly what she wanted. I reckoned mom was going to explode when Louise insisted on seeing the operation site - I tried to be discreet by pulling my shorts to one side so that only my groin was visible, but Louise just pulled them right down and then rolled on the floor in hysterics when she saw that I had been shaved.

That caused a lot of explanations afterwards - mom was truly shocked by what Louise had done. I had no option but to explain.

"Mom, French people don't think the same as we do about being undressed."

Mom sniffed.

"Obviously. I don't know how she dared! Right there in front of me. Has she no shame?"

"Mom, the whole family there used the Jacuzzi together. Nobody wore any clothes. It's just the way they are."

"Nobody? Not even her parents?"

"Not even visitors. And on the beach, none of the girls ever wore a top and some of them didn't wear anything at all."

"That's disgusting - it's immoral! They should be arrested!"

I sighed.

"It isn't immoral. It's normal - there."

"Huh! All I can say is that the sooner her father gets here, the better I'll like it."

Monsieur LeBrun arrived the following afternoon, shook hands with mom and dad, then grabbed Louise by the arm.

"Is there somewhere private that I can use?"

Dad nodded.

"My study. I'll show you where it is."

Just as dad came back into the family room, the sound of loud slaps of flesh on flesh resounded through the house, accompanied by wails of pain from Louise. Mom and dad just froze while I cringed in my chair - it sounded just awful! I lost count at a dozen slaps - it went on for quite a while after that. Mom started towards the door with an expression of shock and anger on her face, but stopped dead when she heard them returning and then Monsieur LeBrun pushed Louise ahead of him into the room.

She was obviously in extreme pain - her hands were clamped to her butt and tears were running freely down her cheeks as she stumbled into the room. Monsieur LeBrun still looked terrifyingly angry - I tried to make myself inconspicuous in case he decided to tackle me next.

"Louise wishes to apologize."

That triggered a sob from Louise and a thermonuclear explosion from mom. She rushed across the room and gathered Louise protectively in her arms, then she let rip at Monsieur LeBrun.

"YOU... YOU BARBARIAN! How dare you treat a girl in that fashion? Come on, Louise - we'll see what the police have to say about this!"

They swept out in a fresh torrent of tears. Dad looked apprehensive.

"If I were you, sir, I would apologize to your daughter and to my wife. As soon as possible."

"What are you saying? Why should I apologize - that girl stole from me and took a flight here without telling a soul. Can I not discipline my own child?"

Dad shook his head.

"Not that way, sir. Not here. You could be charged with sexual abuse of a child."

"What nonsense! I am taking her back to France immediately."

Dad sat down and gestured to Monsieur LeBrun.

"Sir, I guarantee that if you try to do that, my wife will have you arrested and thrown in jail. You will be up to your neck in social workers, cops and lawyers. You will not be permitted to leave the country and you could well get a jail sentence. At the least you would be deported and never allowed into this country again."

That scared me - and Monsieur LeBrun actually turned pale.

"What sort of mad country is this where a parent cannot discipline his own daughter? This is outrageous."

Bad move. Dad didn't like to hear his country criticized. He just shrugged.

"Have it your own way then. But you pay a price here for child abuse even if France permits such a thing."

Monsieur LeBrun turned to me.

"Is this true? What your father is saying?"

I was angry. This was the man who had hurt Louise. I didn't know squat about what could happen, but I wanted to scare him.

"Yes. You will be on TV and in all of the papers. And you will probably go to jail for years and years."

Monsieur LeBrun knew when he was beaten - I think it was the talk of publicity that did it. He held out his hand.

"I will apologize. Please ask them to return."

Dad went to the door and called for mom. She came back in, clutching Louise who had washed her face but was still sniffling. Monsieur LeBrun stood up and faced her.

"Cherie, Je m'excuse au plus profondément."

Louise erupted.

"Look what you have done to me!"

She turned her back on us and dropped her pants, displaying her butt - it was that sort of dull red that means it is going to bruise. Dad's jaw dropped - then dropped further when she turned round to display it to mom and gave him a clear view of her pubic area before she pulled her pants up again. Dad even blushed - then he became a man of action again.

"You need some ice on that, young woman. George - get a pack of frozen peas and a towel."

I limped to the freezer and fetched them - the instructions said I had to walk around normally, but it still hurt when I did. Dad took them from me.

"Lie on the couch, Louise - face down."

Louise went to the couch and started to lower her clothing again. Dad butted in.

"Keep your panties on, please. This will help draw the bruise."

He spread the towel over her butt and placed the pack of peas on top of it, then folded the fabric over it. Louise sighed with relief then kicked her slacks right off, rested her head on her folded arms and made noises of satisfaction.

I have to admit I was surprised at dad. He turned to Monsieur LeBrun.

"I need your word as a gentleman that you will not punish your daughter further for this when you get her back home. This has gone quite far enough, I think."

That drew one of Louise's special supersonic screams.

"I am not going home! Not while Georges is an invalid! I will not leave his side. He needs me!"

Mom opened her mouth and I waited for her to tell Louise to go home. Instead she walked over to her and stroked her hair while directing a poisonous gaze at Monsieur LeBrun.

"Of course you are welcome to stay, honey. Stay as long as you like."

I must admit that Monsieur LeBrun knew when he was beaten. He waved his arms in the air.

"Stay. They can keep you as far as I am concerned."

Louise peeked from her folded arms.

"Papa? Could I stay for a school semester? It would help my English and I would learn much about America."

He sighed.

"If these good people will let you live here, then you can stay. I am really sorry chérie - I was so afraid that you had been kidnapped or killed that I was angry with you for being so irresponsible."

"PAPA! Thank you! I love you so much!"

She leapt to her feet and jumped up to hug him. Dad cast his eyes to heaven but mom just looked real pleased. Especially when Louise transferred her affections to mom and hugged and kissed her like she was ten years old.

Adults are strange people - after a couple of hours everyone was on first-name terms and Monsieur Gaston - what a name! - was sampling bourbon and Anchor Steam Beer with dad and promising to send him a case of the local wine while mom and Louise planned their expedition to buy her some clothes because she had not brought much with her. I just sat and watched with awe as Louise captivated both of my parents - M. Gaston suggested at one stage that Louise stay with John and his family, but mom wouldn't hear of it. How did she DO that?

Mom came to check on me late that night when Louise was asleep.

"Honey, I owe you an apology."

"What for?"

"For doubting you when you said that the French have different ideas about being naked. You were absolutely right - that poor girl wasn't in the slightest concerned at showing where she had been spanked. It's rather charmingly naïve, isn't it?"

I grunted agreement. If that was what she thought, I wasn't going to say any different. I was still warmly appreciating the fact that Louise had jerked me off while the adults were chewing the fat....

Monsieur LeBrun stayed the night and there was a tearful scene as Louise said goodbye next morning. He certainly wasn't mean with money - mom tried to refuse the cheque he wrote for Louise's keep, then she took a good look at it and smiled as she folded it up carefully. The problem of phoning home was solved the same sort of way - Louise was to have her own phone in her room and he would pay all of the bills, and mom looked real relieved when he said that!

I stayed home while they went shopping and realized that mom had completely swallowed the story when Louise just pranced around in varying stages of undress right there in the kitchen as she displayed her new purchases to me whilst mom smiled tolerantly at the display.

Louise showed her iron core later though when Maxine came to see how I was. It was hate at first sight as they sharpened their claws and then started in on each other.

"You keep your hands to yourself, Louise. He's my boyfriend!"

"Pah - you were just substituting while I was in France."

"You bitch! George and I are in love!"

Louise pursed her lips and then delivered the killer punch.

"How could he be in love with you? You have the figure of a camel and the breath of a crocodile!"

I gaped at Louise as Maxine fled in tears.

"That was cruel!"

She shrugged.

"It is better that she knows who is in charge, is it not? She will not be a problem now."

"But..."

"But now I must speak to Maman."

Mom came in while Louise was rattling high-speed French into the phone. I mouthed "Her mother" and mom beamed.

"Give your mother my regards, dear."

"I will."

Mom gazed absently around like people do when they can't understand what is being said. I was suddenly very grateful for that, because Louise was getting advice about me and my hernia.

The instruction sheet had been pretty simple. Light diet the day after the operation, keep the stitches dry, call the hospital if there was any sign of infection, swelling or high temperature and take gentle exercise, gradually increasing it over a week - then I had to go back and get the stitches out.

Louise's mother did not agree. What was really necessary was "le lavement quotidien" - the daily enema. I lay back on Louise's bed in delicious anticipation while she discussed the details with her mother while my mom listened uncomprehendingly and eventually got tired and wandered off.

Louise eventually put the phone down and looked at me.

"I must speak to your mother."

"About an enema? Forget it."

Louise's eyes widened.

"Forget? Why?"

"My mother disapproves of them. I mean she really hates the idea of enemas."

"But how can this be? Your father - he attends to them?"

"No way!"

"No enemas here?"

"No enemas here."

"What shall we do? Maman says that it is essential you do not exert yourself."

I grinned happily - after Maxine's brutal directness a gentle session with Louise would be wonderful. And one every day!

I showed Louise my "travelling enema" which she regarded with contempt, but for some reason I didn't understand myself I didn't want her to see the English device. Next day was a work day for dad and one of her many societies for mom. As soon as the house was empty, Louise called a cab and to my horror directed the driver to take us to a supplier of enema equipment! I sat in silent embarrassment as the grinning guy drove us to an unfamiliar area of town and halted outside a store with no windows - just a plate saying "Medical Supplies".

Louise then proceeded to charm the guy inside - she saw no reason why his entire stock should not be spread out for her inspection. I tried to make myself small and wished for a quick and merciful death as she happily told him about my surgery and how she intended to administer daily enemas to me until further notice. That was when I realized that he had no idea that he was dealing with a fifteen year old schoolgirl - Louise dressed much older and she had that air of confidence that I always envied so much in adults.

She picked up a strange object.

"And what is this?"

"A retention tube, madam. Watch."

I tried to pretend that I was not interested as he produced a small bulb and inflated the end of the thing to something that looked like a rubber doughnut.

"You see - it cannot come out until you release the pressure."

Louise clapped her hands with joy.

"How ingenious! I will have one of those, please!"

Then she paused.

"No. I will have two. I will send one to my mother in France. She will be delighted with something so clever."

I groaned as the man looked at me.

"Is this for the boy?"

"But of course. Georges - you will like this, no?"

"I'll wait in the cab."

I fled from the place while Louise inspected a selection of rectal tubes of enormous caliber. The cab driver grinned as I slumped into the seat.

"I wish I had a nurse like her!"

"Huh?"

"Boy - I'm jealous. What would I give to get an enema from a beauty like that! How come you got your own nurse? Does she do outcalls?"

"No."

I was saved from further interrogation by the reappearance of Louise. We drove home in silence, then she did a truly appalling thing. The driver told her what was on the meter, she gave him a bill and stood with her hand out, waiting for change. Then she looked at me, puzzled by the sudden appearance of winter. I pointed to her money.

"Un pourboire!"

"Pas compris?"

"Non!"

I picked a ten and handed it to the driver.

"Sorry - in France the tip is always in with the price - they do it automatically."

"She's FRENCH? Jeezus - a French nurse and all that stuff...?"

He drove away muttering about the fundamental unfairness of life. Louise had already forgotten him as she hurried into her room and started to unwrap her purchases. I watched, my tummy twitching with sweet apprehension as she selected a large rubber enema bag, a long length of tubing - and the special inflatable attachment.

I was doubtful - it looked far too clinical, but Louise brushed my doubts aside.

"Have no fear - that nice gentleman showed me what to do. Take off your clothes and lie on the bed."

I shivered as I heard her filling up the bag. She returned with it and my bootlace and an awful chill ran through me as I realized that it had been hanging up for weeks. What if mom had realized?

Louise hummed happily to herself as she tied the bag to the light fitting - I winced as it seemed doubtful if it would bear the strain. Then she took the cap from a tube of gel and spread it lovingly over the frilled, floppy end of the tube.

"Now for the enema!"

I lay there, semi-paralyzed with fear. Jeez - it was enormous - but then she slid it into my ass and I forgot my apprehension as it filled that aperture almost to the point of pain.

Then I heard the sound of air being pumped and at the same time I got the most eerie, most amazing feeling as something inflated inside of my rectum. It was like I had already gotten an enema, except that it stayed in one position - I could feel it at the entrance to my rectum. Then Louise stated to run in the liquid - exquisitely slowly, deliciously warm, infinitely stimulating. I sighed in deep content - goodbye Maxine, hello Louise!

Her free hand worked its way round my body and gripped my dick.

"Formidable!"

I sighed in deep appreciation as the muscles round my asshole tensed and twitched, starting a cascade of activity that culminated in a prolonged, glorious climax.

Then I became conscious that I had enough liquid inside of me - and there was no way of releasing it!

"Louise - please - I gotta go..."

She gripped the tube like it was the tail of a dog and held me back.

"LOUISE!"

"Oh - very well."

She followed me, still holding me back with that diabolical object, then I heard a hiss of air and felt the thing deflate. Not a second too soon, I squatted and relieved the pressure in an orgiastic burst of relief.

When all was done, I looked at Louise.

"What about you? Want to try it?"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"No. I think just an ordinary cleansing will suffice."

I made her kneel down - that was the sexiest view and I could get at things easily. Then I had my revenge as I teased her with the thin tube and my fingers before I plunged it swiftly into position and administered an enemas fast enough to have her squirming and squealing.

I wanted to screw afterwards, but Louise had consulted her mother on that subject, much to my discomfiture.

"No. Not for one whole week. You must be a good boy until then."

"I don't want to be a good boy."

"You can be a little wicked if you like..."

Then began a week of incredible experiences as Louise insisted on trying various tubes and nozzles on me. She let me use them on her too, but never the inflatable one.

Then, finally, I got the stitches removed. It was my last day of freedom, too - we both had to go to school the next day. To my surprise, Louise produced both of the inflatable nozzles.

"What?"

"Bend forward."

I felt the familiar but always different thrill as it slid into position and my dick stiffened like the bulb was attached to it and not to the tube. The Louise spun me round and handed me the other tube.

"You do it for me?"

I needed no urging. It looked improbable as the blunt end went in, followed by the thin rubber of the inflatable section, folding as an umbrella as it entered that enticing circle of flesh. I gave it five pumps, like Louise had done.

We faced each other with incongruous rubber tails. I didn't quite understand - she made me bend over and I felt some liquid enter. Enough to excite, not enough to hurt. The thing vibrated and I looked round to find that she had detached the main tube from the nozzle. She held it out to me.

"Pour moi?"

Then I got it! The load inside my ass sent its signals of pleasure to my brain as I injected her with a pint of liquid or so.

"Clamp the tube."

Oh JEEZ - what had given her this idea? What demon had inspired her to such sweet torment? We were both desperate for each other but who on earth could imagine screwing while you were both in mid-enema? It went on for ever and I almost passed out from the multiple stimulations - but I didn't....

Back at school we were confronted with a purely poisonous Maxine and her friends. She didn't worry me - not when I had as much on her as she had on me. Louise was the honey pot, the brilliant butterfly, the exotic foreign girl who shamelessly tempted and discarded. I was forbidden soccer, but to my horror Louise decided that she would take my place.

I began to realize why the US has not yet made world class in soccer. Louise was ruthless and crafty - she left a trail of 'accidental' injuries behind her as she drove for goal and then looked so contrite that she got away with it! The referee never had a chance of catching her and once she had put her hand behind her back and mercilessly squeezed the balls of an opponent who had grabbed her boobs, she had no more problems with harassment of that type!

The semester was wonderful. I basked in the love of Louise and the total envy of every other guy in the school. I made sixteen and got my drivers license - that made Louise real envious.

"In Europe we have to be seventeen. It is not fair!"

"You can get your license here next month."

"Pouf - what use is that?"

"You should get it anyway."

"Maybe."

Then came the news that her parents were coming over for Louise's sixteenth birthday. Mom went into terminal panic, of course.

"You'll have to sleep on the couch, George."

"Aw, mom..."

I couldn't argue. I think dad knew that Louise and I slept together most nights, but mom certainly didn't - and I wanted to keep it that way.

The LeBrun parents arrived and mom fussed around them. I sat it out - they were busy organizing food and catering - mom blanched when Louise announced that she had invited her whole class, plus anyone else who had asked. She even called the weather center to make sure it wouldn't rain - as though that was any good!

Madame LeBrun looked puzzled when she saw me carrying a sleeping bag in from the garage.

"What is this?"

Mom hastened to set her straight.

"George will sleep on the couch, of course. You and Gaston will take his room."

Madame looked puzzled.

"But there are enough beds."

Mom looked pious.

"Well, of course there are, but he can't share with Louise, can he?"

"Why not?"

"Well - they might... you know..."

"They can only do that at night?"

"Of course not. It's just not decent. Surely you would not want them to share a room?"

Madame LeBrun chuckled.

"It would not be the first time, would it, children?"

Louise and I looked at each other as we realized that she must have known all about our clandestine activities the previous year. I felt a chill of terror as mom looked straight at me - shit and corruption, she was going to make my life a misery from now on! I trembled as I waited for her wrath.

"Oh - well, if you know about them and it doesn't worry you, that's a real relief for me, I can tell you."

I had to sit down as her words percolated into my consciousness. She had known all along?

Mom looked at Louise and me.

"I have to say that I didn't approve of your activities, but I talked it over with your father and we both came to the same conclusion - it was going to happen whether we liked it or not. So we did what parents always do - we let you fool us. Or think you did."

So it was settled as easily as that! Funny thing though - it wasn't as much fun when we knew we weren't fooling anybody!

The party was a riotous success. Gaston worked wonders in organizing people to come and run an enormous barbecue, Louise dragged a local up- and-coming group to play loud music, and the neighbors were pacified with food and Gaston's special wine. I was beginning to realize just how much money a French banker made - particularly when he paid the band a hundred bucks each instead of the twenty they were expecting!

We slept late the next day. In the afternoon I nagged Louise about taking her drivers examination. She was diffident.

"Why should I? What good will it do?"

Gaston was listening and he asked what the problem was. I explained and his eyebrows rose.

"She can get a valid license here at sixteen?"

"Yes. Everybody does."

He burst into laughter and hugged Louise.

"Then, my little cabbage, you must take the test. What a clever idea, Georges."

"Huh? What's so clever about it?"

"It will be valid in France for a year after Louise enters the country! We recognize each other's licenses!"

"Even though she is sixteen?"

"If she married where it was allowed at fourteen, that too would be valid when she returned home!"

Louise jumped up and down with undisguised glee.

"Wonderful. Everyone will die of envy. Georges, you are so clever!"

She passed, of course. She kissed the license and tucked it into her passport. Then Gaston beamed at everyone.

"My clever daughter and your genius son must have a reward. Anyway - my wife is entering her second childhood and she wishes to go to Disneyland. You will be our guests?"

Like he needed to ask! He didn't understand why dad made him book a hotel outside the complex - until dad said that alcohol wasn't allowed in Disneyland!

The hotel didn't bat an eye when we took three rooms - that surprised me until dad whispered that they wouldn't do much business if they only allowed married couples to share rooms.

Louise went quiet for a couple of days. Then, when we were at dinner, she called for attention.

"I think that Georges deserves to go to school in France."

You could have heard a pin drop as all four parents communicated silently. Dad spoke first.

"It would improve his French, honey."

Gaston interjected.

"And stop my daughter talking to herself and being bad tempered."

I held my breath as I waited for mom to speak. She was the one who really made the decisions, after all.

Finally she sighed.

"I don't suppose we could live with him if his beloved was the other side of the ocean, could we?"

"And it's only fair after she came to my school. Can I go? Please?"

"Very well. But just until Christmas."

I looked at Louise and she winked at me. This was just the beginning.... And the END of the story.... But the beginning of something very special...
 
 

Tom