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My Summer Camp

It was my first time for being away from home and even though my older sister would be in the girls' camp that didn't give me much courage because I knew that the boys' camp was separate and that we probably wouldn't be seeing each other until the end of camp in six weeks.

"It's only for six weeks," my mother had said in an attempt to reassure me.

Only six weeks! It sounded like an eternity. And I didn't know one single other boy who was going to be there. "You'll make friends," she said, "you'll see."

We went shopping at Albert's with the list of required clothing and then I watched as she sewed my name tapes on my shorts and underpants and socks and tee shirts. "Hmm," she said, "I don't see pajamas on the list. Oh, well, I'll throw some in anyway." It was the same with bathing suits.

When the day came we piled into the Ford and headed north. It took us most of the day to get there. As we came to the sign for the town the camp was near my heart started pounding. I was wedged between my mother and my sister in the front seat, and my mother said, "And remember, Ricky, if you get feeling clogged up or if you miss a day you're to go to the camp nurse and ask her to give you a you-know-what." I blushed, because I knew what and so did my sister because she turned to me with her prissy look and said, "Yes, and be sure she makes it nice and soapy."

"That will be enough, Gwendolyn," said my mother. I looked out the window, hoping the subject would be dropped. The trees sped by like a blur.

"Well he does need them, mother. You know that."

"I know he does, dear, but I'm sure the camp nurse will take care of the problem."

I focused on the trees slipping by so I wouldn't have to listen. It was true I was often constipated, and it was true that my mother gave me enemas for it. What was also true, but what neither she nor my sister knew, was that I liked them. Oh, sometimes mom gave me too much, or she made it too soapy, so I had cramps, but the good parts outweighed the bad and I always looked forward to them, though I would rather die than have them find that out.

But no more was said, and then suddenly we were there. We were obviously in the boys' camp because there were boys everywhere. Most were wearing just blue shorts, though some had on sneakers and some were wearing T-shirts. After asking directions we found where I was supposed to be. My cabin was called "Blue Jay" and my counselor was named Steve. I said goodbye and watched the familiar rear end of our car disappear with mom and Gwen.

"Come on, Ricky," said Steve, putting his hand on my shoulder and he helped me with my duffel bag and showed me the cabin where I would be living along with seven other boys my age. Steve said that because I was early I could chose my bunk, either an upper or a lower. I chose an upper because I'd never slept in one before. I later found out that lower bunks were considered better, but by then it was too late.

By late afternoon all the boys in my cabin had arrived and we had exchanged names. Two of the boys had been to the camp before; the rest were new like me. We all had supper in the big dining hall, some one hundred boys and we were greeted by the head of the camp, Mr. Peel. I wasn't very hungry.

After supper we had some free time to unpack and get ready for bed. Some of the boys were starting to get undressed and into their pajamas, when one of the old boys said, "We don't wear pajamas here, we sleep bare." The boys who were putting on their pajamas stopped and stared at the boy. Then the other old boy said, "And we swim bare and we do our calisthenics bare." I guess we looked kind of shocked because the first boy said, "You'll get used to it, it's fun."

Some of the new boys looked doubtful, but I knew it wouldn't bother me.

Just then Steve came in and made sure we were all set for the night. Everyone got into bed naked and Steve said good night. He slept in a separate part of the cabin, out of sight but within earshot.

I slept O.K. and the next morning sure enough we were taken out onto the grass area in front of our cabin and there we did nude calisthenics for about fifteen minutes after which we ran into the lake for a bare tailed morning plunge, and then got dressed - shorts, tee shirts and shoes - for breakfast.

I mention this stuff about the nudity because it sort of set the tone for the camp and we were young enough so that it didn't bother us, but it might have if we'd been older and had more to hide.

I soon got into the camp routine and wasn't too homesick, though I sort of wished I could see my sister Gwen, even though we didn't get along well. But after a while I got over that too and started having a good time. I liked the nature part where we took care of sick birds and small animals and learned about them and I liked the free swims where we swam out to a big rubber raft and lay on it naked in the sun and dived off of it. There was also a rope swim we could use to swing out over the lake and drop.

We did Indian stuff, too, where we made loincloths to wear and painted our bodies and learned Indian dances. It was a fun camp and I was having a good time until one day I fell into some poison ivy and because I wasn't wearing anything except my loincloth I got a lot of poison ivy all over my body.

Other boys did too and Steve looked us over and told us to go to sick call, which we did.

I had been expecting a lady nurse and was surprised to find he was a man, whose name was Rick, like mine without the "Y".

I was about fourth in line and the boys ahead of me took off their shorts when their turn came so Rick could look them all over and then dab some pink stuff on them where they had poison ivy. We were not embarrassed because he was male, like us.

It was while I was waiting my turn that something caught my eye. It was a blue jar filled with some little white cones and beside it was a jar of Vaseline and some rubber things like tiny balloons. I didn't know what these things were, but because of the Vaseline I thought they had to do with something going into our behinds, maybe the little cones.

When my turn came I took off my shorts and raised my arms so Rick could look me over, then he dabbed me all over with the pink stuff. It kind of tickled when he dabbed me in certain places, like down by my pecker and also in back. Then he told us to put on our shorts and watch out where we were playing because there was a lot of poison ivy around the camp. I liked Rick and was glad he wasn't a lady nurse, because that would have been embarrassing.

The next time I went to sick call was when Steve said to us that if any boys were not having regular b.m.'s they should go to see Rick and even though I had only missed one day I decided to go to see Rick, because I knew it would only get worse if I waited and also because I was curious about that little blue jar with the cones in it. I was pretty sure that's what they were for, even though I'd never seen one before.

When my turn came I lied and told Rick I hadn't gone for two days and he nodded and told me to go sit on one of the stools in the corner where another boy was already sitting.

I sat down on the stool next to him but we didn't say anything at first. He was even smaller than me and was just sitting there swinging his legs and humming a tune. Finally I said, "What's Rick going to do?"

"How should I know? I don't even know what 's wrong with you."

He wasn't being very friendly, but his answer was pretty logical, so I said, "Well, I guess I'm sort of constipated."

"Me, too," he said, but not looking at me.

"So, what is he going to give us, then?"

"Torpedoes. That's what he usually does."


"Yeah. You've never had one?"

"No. I guess not. What is it?"

"Well, you'll find out in a minute."

"Are they those things in the blue jar?"

"Yeah, that's them."

"Oh." I could see I wasn't going to get much more out of the kid, so I just sat there and waited until Rick was finished with all the other boys .

When they'd all gone Rick said, "O.K. which one's going to be first?" The other boy raised his finger and Rick beckoned to him and patted the table.

The boy hopped onto it and lay down on his back. Rick poked his stomach and asked if it hurt and the boy said no. He asked him when he had last had a B.M. and the boy said three days ago.

"O.K. Tony," said Rick, "Assume the angle and we'll get you unplugged in a jiffy."

At this Tony got over onto his hands and knees and the collapsed his arms so his chest was on the table and his behind was in the air. Rick reached under the elastic of Tony's shorts and pulled them down over his hips so that his behind was bare. It was a very small behind, and from where I was I could see right into his asshole, which was brownish. I hoped mine was cleaner.

Rick took one of the rubber things and put it on his finger. Then he unscrewed the blue jar and took out one of the cone shaped sticks and unscrewed the Vaseline jar and dipped the cone into it. Then he came behind Tony and I couldn't see his asshole anymore but I knew what was going to happen.

"Ready Tony?"


"O.K. Fire one!" And I could tell Rick was pushing the thing right into Tony's behind. Tony gave a groan. Rick didn't take his finger out right away and I could tell he was pushing the thing up as high as it he could with his finger. Tony did some more groaning. Then Rick took his finger out and took another cone and went behind Tony again.

"Fire two!" he said, and again Tony groaned as Rick pushed the second torpedo up his behind. Then he took out his finger as before. He took off the rubber thing and put a fresh one on, then he crooked his finger at me and patted the table. I got up onto it and lay down on my back the way I'd seen Tony do.

Steve poked me here and there and asked if it hurt and I said "Some."

"I'm going to give you two suppositories, what the kids call torpedoes. Have you ever had one before?"


"Have you ever had an enema?"

"Oh, yes, lots of times."

"Well, if you've had enemas, these will be a cinch." Then he told me to "assume the angle" and having watched Tony do it I was soon over on my knees with my arms collapsed and my bottom in the air. I felt Rick's finger under the waistband of my shorts, and felt him draw them down, exposing my behind. I felt the soft air across my bottom and right into my asshole. I heard Rick making his preparations, putting on the rubber thing and other things, and then he was behind me with one hand pressing down on my back to make my behind stick out more.

"O.K. Ricky, ready?

"Ready," I said, holding my breath for some reason.

"Fire one!" he said, and I felt the tip of the cone pressed against my hole, and then I felt it slide in, slippery as it was with Vaseline, and then I felt Rick's finger going right into me, and it all felt very nice. I felt myself getting stiff in front, and was glad Rick couldn't see. I pushed back with my bottom so he could get higher up me with his finger. I felt it go up me until his other fingers were pressed against me and he couldn't go any further. Oh, it felt good! He left his finger there for a while, then took it out. I felt very empty. I had never had someone's finger up my behind before and decided I liked it very much.

I heard Rick moving behind me and then his hand on my back again.

"Fire two!"

Again I felt the little cone go into my behind, followed by Rick's finger. I heard myself give a little groan, but it was of pleasure not pain, and I felt my little cock throbbing. Rick worked his finger up as high as he could, then left it there for a while. I could feel his breath on my behind.

Then, to my sorrow, he took out his finger and snapped off the little rubber thing.

"Good boy, Ricky" he said. "Now you two just stay as you are until the timer goes ding. That means Tony can get go to the John. And then when he's finished, Ricky, you can go. O.K.? I have to go now and see about a sick boy."

And he went own the hall to the rooms where the rooms were for boys who were sick.

Well, if you're kneeling there with your behind in the air right next to another boy with his behind in the air sooner or later you're going to start talking to each other, which is what we did. And so I found out that the suppositories inside us were melting from the heat of our insides and that after a while we would have the urge to go.

"I wonder how long he set the timer for," I said.

"I don't know," said Tony, "but I'm starting to feel mine already and if it gets too bad I'm going to go to the John even if the bell hasn't rung."

"Won't Rick be mad?"

"No. He's a nice guy."

After a while Tony started groaning and squirming around. "I've gotta go soon," he said. "Aren't yours working yet?"

"They're starting to," I said. "It feels funny."

"Yeah, well it beats having an enema."

"My mom's aren't too bad."

"You're lucky then. I hate enemas." And that was that.

After a while Rick came back and asked how we were doing, and Tony said he had to go .

"Well, if you gotta go, you gotta go." And I heard him give Tony's behind a little smack as he went away again, and then I heard Tony get off the table and go into the little closet where the toilet was. and then I heard him letting go, and the noise echoed inside that little closet. I guess Rick heard him because he came back to inspect Tony's production before allowing to flush.

Then he asked me how I was doing and I said fine, which was true although I felt some rumblings inside me. But before long I started to feel very crampy and uncomfortable and I was sweating. But I was saved by the bell and when it went off I ran into the toilet and let go. It burned coming out and I decided I didn't like suppositories much, though I liked the feeling of Rick's finger in my behind.

After I was finished Rick came and checked the contents of the bowl and asked me if I felt better. I said yes and pulling up my pants I thanked him and left.

Somehow the guys in my cabin knew I'd had the "torpedo" treatment. Maybe one of them had been at sick call. Anyway, during rest hour after lunch they asked me how I liked being torpedoed by "Coldfinger." (The movie "Goldfinger" was showing everywhere that summer). I said it was O.K. but they wouldn't drop the subject One of them said that Rick got his jollies from pushing torpedoes up boys' behinds. I didn't say anything to that, but I thought that if so, then he and I would get along just fine.

I came back for "torpedoes" two more times because of my being constipated and both times I loved the feeling of Rick's finger in me but didn't like the way the torpedo burned when it came out. What I really wanted I knew, was for Rick to give me an enema. I just missed mom's enemas I guess and thought Rick would probably give me a nice one, man to man. But naturally I couldn't just go and ask for one.

Then fate stepped in. I got sick. Some sort of bug. I'd felt kind of funny after supper and was glad when it was time for bed. Then in the middle of the night I felt awful and got up and went out to the latrine where I sat on the hole but couldn't go. Then I felt like throwing up, and got up and bent over the hole, and sure enough I threw up. Afterwards I felt very tired and went back to sleep, but in the morning I felt all hot and achy and knew I was sick, because I just wanted to be in bed somewhere and be taken care of.

In the morning I told Steve I was sick and he said I should stay in bed and skip breakfast and then go to sick call. I wanted to be first in line for sick call but I overslept and when I got there, there were already some other boys in line and I felt all dizzy and weak standing in line while the boys ahead of me had only little things wrong with them like bee stings or cuts.

When my turn came Rick stuck a thermometer in my mouth and asked me some questions I could answer by nodding or shaking my head, and when he took out the thermometer and read it he told me to follow him because I was going to be his "house guest" for a while. He led me down the hall to a room with two beds separated by a night stand. The far bed was empty, but there was a boy asleep in the near one. He was partway in his sleeping bag, even though it was a hot day, but he was far enough out of it for me to see that he wasn't wearing anything. He looked to be a couple of years older than me. There was a guitar beside his bed, leaning against the wall.

Rick said he was putting me in with this boy because here were no other boys in the infirmary and that what we had was not catching, so we could keep each other company. He said his name was Seth. I didn't remember having seen him before.

I asked Rick if I should have brought my sleeping bag and he said no, that the weather was supposed to stay hot for a while, but that he would send some boy down for my toothbrush later. Then he handed me a little bathrobe and told me to get undressed and into bed. So I undressed and got into bed and pulled the sheet up over me and curled up in a ball and in no time I was fast asleep and having strange dreams.

I was awakened by someone shaking my shoulder and then pulling the sheet off me. It was Rick, and with him was a man I didn't know who turned out to be the camp doctor, Dr. Wick. He sat down on my bed and asked me how I felt.

I told him I felt hot and achy and that I'd thrown up and felt sick at my stomach. He took my temperature and felt my pulse, then put on his stethoscope and listened to my chest, then my back, thumping me down my backbone. He looked into my ears, my eyes, and my throat, and poked and prodded my stomach for a long time, asking me if this hurt and if that hurt.

Next he put his arm under my knee and raised it so it dangled freely, then hit it with a little hammer. My leg jerked. He did the same thing with the other knee.

Then he did a strange thing. He took a pencil from his pocket and lifting one of my legs, ran it down the underside of my foot. It tickled, making me jerk my foot out of his hand.

"Good," he said.

Then, reaching down between my legs he lifted up my balls and ran the pencil along the piece of skin between my asshole and my balls. That really made me jump.

"Excellent," he said. He didn't say why my being ticklish there was excellent, but I was glad I had reacted the right way. Much later I found out this was a test for polio, because even though the Salk vaccine had been invented it was still quite new and summer camps didn't want to take any chances.

The doctor and Rick left the room and I could hear the doctor talking as they walked down the hall but I couldn't make out what he was saying. After a while Rick came back to the room alone. He sat down on my bed and brushed my hair back with his hand.

"The doctor wants you to have some enemas," he said, giving me a sort of smile that seemed to say, "Look, I know, but what can I do? It's doctor's orders." Little did he know that those were the words I had been hoping for. Still, when I heard the word "enemas" some old fear swept over me. I wondered what he meant by "some" enemas. How many was some? But I didn't ask.

I looked over at Seth, so see if he'd heard my sentence, but he seemed to be still sleeping. Rick must have seen the fear in my face because he played with my hair again and said, "It won't be so bad. You've had them before, haven't you? At home? Your mom?"

I nodded and tried to smile. I felt very excited, but at the same time nervous.

"But you can go back to sleep for a while first if you want."

"O.K." I said.

Rick left, and I did sleep for a while, rather fitfully and when I woke up Seth was sitting up and playing his guitar very softly, just chords. When our eyes met he smiled.

"Hi, little guy," he said, "What's your name?"


"Mine's Seth. Seth Osborne."

"What's your last name?"


"You Irish?"

"Scots-Irish. My father was Scottish. My mother's Irish. MacLeod's a Scottish name, not an Irish one."

"Are your parents divorced?"

"No. My father's dead."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Tell me, do you wear kilts?" he asked.

"I have one, but I only wear it on special occasions, like Christmas."

"Really? I 'd like to see you in a kilt," Seth said.

I wasn't sure I liked Seth. But then he started playing his guitar again.

He played a song called "The Eddystone Lights" which I'd heard before.

"Do you want to sing along with me?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know all the words, probably."

"That's O.K. Come on over here."

So I got out of my bed and sat next to Seth, naked as I was, and he played it again, teaching me the words. There was one verse that went, "A voice from the starboard shouted 'Ahoy!'/ And there was my mother, sitting on a buoy" and because "buoy" rhymed with "ahoy" I thought he said "boy" and so I said, "Why was she sitting on a boy?" Seth thought that was pretty funny.

He knew a lot of Burl Ives songs like "The Fox" and "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" and "The Bluetail Fly" and my favorite, "The Big Rock Candy Mountain." I sang along when I knew the words. He told me I had a nice singing voice, which I knew because back home I was head boy in our church choir.

After we had sung a lot of songs he put the guitar down, saying he was tired.

"What have you got?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't think they know. If they do, they're not telling me."

"Why don't you go home, then?"

"Because my folks are in Egypt and won't be back for two weeks."


I looked at Seth, and even though I was younger than he was I felt sorry for him because he was sick with something and his parents were away in a strange land..

"What's wrong with you?" Seth asked.

"I guess I have a stomach bug."

" Rick knows how to take care of that," he said, smiling.

"I guess he does," I said, and I think we both knew what we were talking about, and again I wondered if he had been awake when Rick told me the doctor had ordered "some enemas" for me.

Seth turned toward the wall so I went back to my bed. Before long Rick came into the room and sat down on my bed and told me he was going to give me my enema now. This time I was pretty sure Seth was awake and listening.

"I'll go fix it and call you when it's ready," he said, smiling at me. And brushing my hair back again he got up and left.

I could hear him in the examination room getting my enema ready for me, and all the old feelings I used to have hearing the preparations came rushing back, and I both wanted the enema very much and at the same time didn't want it at all. I told myself that it didn't really matter what I wanted or didn't want because I was going to get it anyway.. It was doctor's orders, after all.

I heard the sound of metal hitting porcelain, and knew he was going to use a can like the one mom used on me at home. I wondered what the nozzle would be like, and whether he was going to use soap. I heard him filling the can and then the sound of the water being stirred. Soap. Then I heard him come down the hallway. He poked his head in and beckoned to me with his finger, smiling in a silly way. I got out of bed, put on the little bathrobe, which had no belt, and holding it together in front I followed him down the hall to the examination room.

I saw the can hanging from the metal stand. It was enamel, like ours, and there was a long red tube like on ours coiled around the can, but instead of a nozzle there was, another rubber tube, smoother-looking than the regular tubing and with a little hole at one side very near the tip, so that it looked like a one-eyed snake. I had never seen anything like this before, and I wondered how it was going to feel. Rick patted the table and I got up.

"On your left side," he said. He took a rubber pillow and telling me to lift up he put it under my behind. He bent my upper leg so my knee was up by my chest. He made my arms and head comfortable. Then he took the tube from the can and laid it across my hip. It was thicker than a nozzle, but it looked soft, so I wasn't afraid of it. I wondered how far up it was going to go. Rick must have sensed my concern.

"This is called a rectal tube," he said. "That's because it's a tube, and it goes into your rectum. Makes sense, doesn't it? If you're used to the hard nozzle I think you'll find this feels very nice. Any questions?"

"Um. How far up does it go?"

"That depends. Have you been having regular B.M.'s?"


"Then you're probably not impacted, so we can go up to the sigmoid flexture. We'll just play it by ear."

"By ear?" I was baffled. Rick laughed.

"It's just an expression. Like if you're playing the piano and you don't have the music in front of you, you just play it by ear."

"Oh." I understood that because I played the piano by ear sometimes, if I knew the music, but I wasn't sure how he was going to play the tube "by ear." But I forgot about it, because now I was busy watching Rick, who was putting one of those little rubber things on his finger and coating it not with Vaseline but with something from a blue and white tube.

"What's that stuff ?" I asked.

"It's called KY," he said. "Here. Read all about it." And he gave me the tube. I read the part that said "For easy insertion of rectal thermometers, enema, douche and similar type nozzles."

"What does 'dowch' mean?"



"That's a French words. It's pronounced 'doosh'."

"Oh. But what does it mean?"

"It means to rinse or shower. It's something women do. You don't have to know about it yet."

"Oh. But why are you putting the stuff on your finger? Are you going to give me another torpedo?"

"No, but the rectal tube is thicker than the nozzles you're used to, so I'm going to lubricate you first, to make it go in more easily."


When he smeared enough of the KY onto his finger he pout his other hand on my behind and pried my cheeks apart with his thumb.

"Here goes," he said, and I felt the cold jelly on my hole, then Rick's finger working around the outside, then slipping right in. He worked his finger up, twisting it this way and that and sending tingling messages through me. I closed my eyes. My cock was hard and throbbing. I wanted him to keep his finger in me for a long time, but pretty soon he took it out.

Then he picked up the rectal tube and ,squeezed some jelly onto it and smeared it up and down the tube, coating it thoroughly so it would go in more easily. Then he lifted my cheeks again and I felt the blunt nose of the snake poking against my back door. Rick gave it a little push and it was inside. I liked the feeling of it.

Slowly Rick worked the tube up into a ways. Then he said, "O.K., ready, set, go!" And he opened the clamp and the warm water flowed into me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being filled with warm water, while Rick twisted the tube and worked it further up.

"Let me know if it hurts," Rick said. I liked the feeling of the tube going deeper into me, but then it came up against a wall or something, and I told Rick it hurt.

"That's your sigmoid flexture," he said. "We'll stop there." He gave the tube a little twist, which sent nice feelings through me.

Rick gave me my enema slowly, pausing often to let it "soak in" before going on, so there was no pain or cramping. Now and then he reached around and rubbed me, pushing the water higher up. I felt it churning inside me. He took the can off the hook and sort of waved it around, raising it and lowering it. I could feel the water surging in, then receding, like water at the seashore. I just lay there with my bottom sticking out and let Rick fill me.

Finally the can made a gurgling sound, and I knew it was empty. I had taken the whole thing! Rick told me I had done very well, and asked me if I could hold it in for a while. I said I could. He said he had to go check Seth's temperature and if I had to go before he got back that was O.K. I noticed he took the Vaseline with him which I thought was strange because he had taken my temperature in my mouth, and Seth was a lot older than me.

Imagining I was Seth and Rick was taking my temperature I started playing with the tube in my behind, pushing it in and out, and playing with my cock at the same time. This got me very excited, of course and I was starting to get my feeling, but I didn't know when Rick might be coming back and I didn't want him to catch me at it so I stopped. And none too soon, either.

When he came in I was just lying there.

"You seem a little out of breath," he said, "And you look flushed." He felt my forehead. Then he looked down and saw my cock, which had disobeyed my order to go down, so I guess he figured out what I'd been doing . But he didn't say anything. He just reached behind me and took out the rectal tube. It was in much farther than a nozzle, so it took longer to come out.

He helped me off the table and held my bottom cheeks together as he took me down the hall to the little toilet. He left me there but said not to flush.

I sat and the water came out in great gushes, with solid things too. It took me a long time to get empty and twice I got all wiped and ready to leave when some more water came down.

When I was sure there was no more I called Rick and he came and looked and said I had needed that enema and didn't I feel much better with all that stuff washed out of me ? I said I did. And it was true.

"You go and rest now," he said, "I'll be giving you another enema before you go to sleep tonight."

This news made me get excited again, so I was glad to be able to turn my back and walk down the hall to my room, or rather I should say Seth's and my room. Seth was turned to the wall again so I didn't have to hide my hard-on from him. I felt nice and sleepy after my enema, so I got into bed and pulled the sheet up over me and curled up in a ball, and soon I was sound asleep too.

When I woke up Seth was still sleeping. He was lying on his back, and he was half hard. His cock was a lot bigger than mine, and he had a bush of hair down there. Otherwise his body was smooth like mine. I noticed the Vaseline jar on his night table, and next to it the thermometer in a glass of water or some liquid. I thought it must be very embarrassing to have your temperature taken that way at his age.

The thought of the thermometer in Seth's behind got me hard, so I started playing with myself under the sheet in a leisurely sort of a way. I had been doing this for some time when I began to feel Seth's eyes on me, so I looked over and sure enough he was wide awake and watching me.

"Don't mind me," he said, with sort of a smirk on his face.

"Oh, hi," I said, stopping my hand. "I was just -."

"Jacking off, so go ahead and finish."

"I don't feel like it now."

"Because I'm here?"

I just shrugged.

"Well, tell me about your enema, then."

"How did you know?"

"Oh, I can hear everything that goes on down the hall. Besides, Doc usually orders them when someone comes in."


"So how'd you like it?"

"It was O.K."

"Do you get enemas at home?"

"Sometimes." I felt myself blushing.

"From your mom?"

"Uh huh."

"So how does Rick's compare?"

"Nicer, I guess."


"Well, you know, not as bad."

"Yeah, I know."

That seemed to be the end of his questioning, so I decided it was my turn.



"Um, how come Rick takes your temperature in your bee-hind" I jerked my head toward the thermometer and Vaseline jar. He looked at me and I thought for a second he didn't like my asking about it.

It was none of my business, of course, but then neither had my enema been any of his business. Then he looked down, and said, "I've got this fever that goes up and down, and have to keep accurate records. They take it rectally because it's more accurate."


Then I said it must be embarrassing to have your temperature taken that way, but he said it was no big deal and that you get used to it. I said I hadn't had my temperature taken that way since I was about six and he said ' "Well, I guess you must really miss it then. don't you, little guy?" I laughed, but I could feel my cheeks get warm. t was strange how Seth seemed to know what I was thinking. He really seemed to have me figured out. I wondered if I'd been talking in my sleep or something.

We talked about other stuff for a while and then Rick came in. He had a lab coat on and a stethoscope around his neck.

"How'ya feeling Ricky?" he asked.

"A little better," I said. Then Seth opened his yap.

"He said he loved his enema and can't wait for you to give him another."

"I did not!" I said, blushing wildly.

Rick just laughed. He took a thermometer case from his pocket, took out the thermometer, shook it down and put it in my mouth. I thought of getting even with Seth by making some remark about his having his temperature taken in his bottie like a baby but I didn't, because Seth was really sick and that was not something to joke about. Anyway, I couldn't talk with the thermometer in my mouth. If I tried to with my mom she always said, "You keep your mouth closed, dear and the thermometer under your tongue like a good boy unless you want me to put it somewhere else where you can talk your head off." If Gwen was around she would giggle at that.

After he was finished with me Rick got up and sat down on Seth's bed. He put the earpieces into his ears and placed the round disc on Seth's chest.

He listened to Seth's chest for a long time, moving the stethoscope around to various places. When he took it out of his ears I said, "That thing should be called a Stethoscope." I thought it was pretty clever, and Rick laughed, but Seth just groaned. Then Rick reached for the thermometer and Seth flopped over onto his stomach, but I couldn't see his behind because Rick was in the way. Anyway, I knew it wasn't nice to watch, so I turned toward the wall and listened.

After a while I heard Rick get up so I turned my head an saw Seth lying on his stomach with the thermometer sticking out of his behind. Rick was writing on Seth's chart but I knew that wouldn't take him long so I turned my head back to the wall. Thinking about Seth with that thermometer in his behind made me hard again. Maybe it was no big deal for Seth but it sure was for me. I wished Rick would take mine that way.

At about six o'clock Rich brought us our dinners, clear broth for me and spaghetti and meatballs for Seth. I drank all of my broth and still felt hungry, but Seth only ate a little of his dinner. I wondered when I was going to get my enema. Maybe Rick had forgotten.

"Can you play chess?" Seth asked. I said I could but I wasn't too good. He reached over to the nightstand took a small chess set out of the drawer and began setting it up on his bed.

"C'mon over," he said.

I got up and put on my little bathrobe and went over and sat on Seth's bed.

"Getting modest all of a sudden?"

"I was cold." Anyway, it didn't hide much since there was no way to fasten it around my waist, and as I sat crosslegged on Seth's bed it hung down open, exposing me completely.

He beat me easily the first game, but the second was a draw. He was a good player but I held my own pretty well. He was winning the third game when we heard Rick coming down the hall.

"Enema time," said Seth. "Saved by the bell."

Rick crooked his finger at me and I got up and followed him up the hall, my stomach gurgling in anticipation.

"O.K. Ricky, take off your bathrobe and hop up onto the table and we'll get started. I want you on your hands and knees for this one, just like for the torpedoes."

I wondered why he wanted me in that position but didn't ask, just got up onto the table, on my knees with my upper body collapsed and my behind sticking out.

"Atta boy," said Rick. Then I felt his hand pressing down on my back, making my behind stick out even more. I felt his eyes looking at my asshole. I was glad it was clean. Then I felt his finger pressed against it, and then it was in me, working the Vaseline around.

It occurred to me that he really didn't need to do this, because the tube wasn't really very thick, and I remembered what the boys had said about his liking to stick his finger up boy's asses. He worked his finger around, causing me to get very stiff in front, and when he removed it I felt quite empty.

Next he inserted the rubber tube that he had used before, pushing it up several inches. It felt very nice. Again I imagined it was a small snake with a blunt head. Rick opened the clamp and the rush of warm water hit me and I closed my eyes in bliss.

"This is going to be just a quick rinse," Rich said. "That's why I had you 'assume the angle'. The water flows in faster. For a cleansing enema I let the water in very slowly, but for a rinse I make it go in faster." I lay there letting Rick fill me up, panting a little when I started feeling full.. Then Rick closed the clamp.

"I think that's enough," he said.

"I can take some more," I said.

"Well, I don't want to fill you too full right before you go to bed, or you might have an accident during the night. So we'll just rest here and let you hold it a while."

Rick had me lie flat on my stomach, then carefully turned me over onto my back, holding the tube in place in my behind as he did so. He raised my knees. Then he began massaging me, working the water up into me. Of course I was hard and of course he noticed.

"Don't worry," he said, "it happens to most boys."

"Why?" I asked.

"It's the warm water, and something called the prostate gland. It's a physical reaction and doesn't necessarily mean you like enemas." I thought about that while Rick massaged me, twisting the tube in my bottom from time to time.

"Um, Rick?"

"Yes, Ricky?"

"Do some boys actually like enemas?"

"Oh, you bet. A lot of them do, but most of them don't admit it."

"Why not?"

"They're afraid of other boys calling them queer for liking having something stuck up their butts."

"So liking enemas doesn't mean you're queer?"

"Certainly not. It just means you like the feeling, and if it turns you on, well, go ahead and enjoy it. Now I'm going to leave you alone for a while. I'll be back in exactly five minutes. If you need to go sooner than that just ring this bell." And he handed me a small silver bell. Then he left.

As soon as he was gone I started beating my meat, of course, moving the tube in and out of my behind with my other hand. It didn't take more than three minutes before I had a very intense feeling, even though of course nothing came out.

When Rick came back I was dozing off, but I'm sure he could tell from the color of my face what I'd been doing. He smiled at me and nodded his head up and down. Then he slowly drew the tube out of me, wiped me off, and helped me to the toilet.

When I was sure I had finished on the toilet I called Rick so he could see what I'd done. Then I wiped myself and Rick flushed the toilet and handed me my bathrobe, which I put on.

"And did we have ourselves a nice little enema?" Seth asked when I got back to the room.

"Oh, shut up," I said, throwing off my bathrobe and getting into bed. I was tired of Seth's sarcastic comments. I pulled the sheet over me and faced away from him. I went right to sleep and didn't wake up until I felt my bed sag, and there was Rick, sitting on it, and it was morning.

"Feeling better?" he said after taking my temperature.

"Tons better," I said. He brought me a soft-boiled egg and a piece of dry toast, the first solid food I'd had. It tasted good.

Later the doctor came again and felt my tummy and asked me whether it hurt anywhere. I said no.

"I think you're going to live," he said. Then he looked up at Rick. "How does he take his enemas?"

"Lying on his side," joked Rick. "No, seriously, he takes them very well, Doc. No problem."

"I think he should have at least one more good enema before he leaves" said the doctor. "Do you think you could survive that?" he asked me

"I think so," I said, smiling, feeling my cock stiffen at the thought of another enema.

"Good. Give him a high soda enema, then, Rick, with a rinse before bed."

"Right," said Rick.

When they had gone I looked over at Seth. His eyes were half open.

"Aren't you the lucky one," he said.

"I dunno. What's a high soda enema?"

"It's a Coke enema that makes you get high," he said. "They put LSD in it."

"No, really."

"It's an enema that goes higher up. He uses a longer tube."

"How high does it go?"

"Oh, three or four feet I guess."

"Bull shit!" I said.

"Oh! Such language! You should have your mouth washed out with soap! But never mind, you'll soon have your little bee-hind washed out with soap."

"Fuck you," I said softly.

"Take that back or I'll come over there and spank your little bee-hind."

"I'm not taking anything back."

"All right, then, you asked for it." And in no time he had come over, pulled the sheet off me, and grasped me around the middle. Sitting down, he pulled me across his lap and pinned my arms up my back.

"Now lets see if we can't put a little color into those tender cheeks of yours."

"No! Please! I didn't mean it!" I was mostly play-acting, because I knew he wasn't going to really spank me.

"It's too late for apologies. You're in for a bottom-warming." And he began spanking me, not too hard, just enough to sting. Then he started tickling me in between spanks, and rubbing my behind, making me I squirm on his lap. My stiff pecker rubbed against his thigh, and now and then I felt his much bigger one pressing against my stomach. I was giggling and crying "Ouch! That hurts!" at the same time.

This is how Rick found us.

"I hate to interrupt your little game," he said, "but it's time for Ricky's enema."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't want him to miss that," said Seth, pushing me off his lap and covering himself with his hands, "And I'm sure he feels the same way."

I lay there rubbing my behind and laughing.

"Come on," said Rick, pulling me upright, "we've got work to do." And he led me out of the room and down the hall, naked as I was.

Soon I found myself on the table again, on my side with my legs drawn up, and Rick was putting the little rubber thing on his finger and smearing it with Vaseline. I stared up at the enamel can hanging from the stand. There was a little stick sticking up, which I guessed he had used to stir in the soda.

"Your bottom's a nice shade of pink," he said, "It shows right through your tan." We boys had "all- over" tans of course, from swimming and playing in the nude so much. Rick lifted my upper cheek and I felt him swirl his finger around my rosebud and then poke right in.

"Why was Seth spanking you? Did you lose at cards?"

"No. I said "Fuck you" to him."

"Well, that wasn't very nice, was it? Why did you say " 'fuck you' to him,?" he asked, pushing his finger all the way in my behind, causing me to gasp for breath.

"I don't reme-ember. He was tea-easing me I thi-ink."

"You shouldn't egg him on, you know. He's supposed to stay quiet. Strenuous activity like that sends his fever up."

"Oh. I didn't know."

"Coldfinger" was getting me very hot. If he had kept up his finger massage much longer I would have had my feeling, but he soon replaced his finger with the rubber tube, which he had anointed with KY as before. I felt the nice slippery snakelike thing go into me and closed my eyes. Up and up it went, with the warm water preceding it. When it reached the something flexture, that bend in my gut where he had stopped before, Rick said, "We're going all the way up today."

I gulped.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt There's no soap, only soda, which won't bother you."

Rick twisted the tube so that it's little snake head turned this way and that inside me, looking for the way up. Then suddenly I felt it go past the kink..

"We made it!" said Rick. "It'll be smooth sailing from now on." And he worked the tube higher and higher, pushing water ahead of it, and sometimes pulling it back before pushing it further up again. This went on for some time. I pushed my bottom out to be helpful, and Rick worked the tube back and forth, causing indescribable sensations inside me, until I felt something fatter go into me.

"That's the nozzle inside the tube," said Rick. "That's as far as we go. You now have eighteen inches of rubber tubing up your behind." Rick turned me over onto my back and gave a twist of the tube so that the nozzle inside it was pushed right up against my bottom. I loved the feeling.

Then he massaged my tummy, ignoring my hard-on. I felt and heard the water sloshing around inside me. Then Rick opened the clamp and more water came into me.

"Um, Rick?"

"Yes, Ricky?"

"What has Seth got?"


"I don't know. I don't think anyone does. But I know he's not getting any better."

I thought about that as the warm water filled me up. I felt bad about cussing at him, and wished I could make it up somehow.

When my tummy was tight as a drum Rick closed the clamp, even though I could have taken more. As he had done the day before he gave me the little bell and said he would return in five minutes but to ring if I needed him sooner.

There was a clock on the wall above me so I knew I had five minutes alone. I took my cock in one hand and the tube in the other and soon was giving myself a nice little treatment that ended in my having my dry orgasm right then and there. I felt a little water leak out during my spasms, but otherwise I was fairly calm and breathing almost normally when Rick returned. Still, he gave me a sort of crooked smile that said he knew what I'd been up to.

Rick turned me onto my side again and began snaking out the tube. It felt almost as good coming out as it had done going up me, and it just came and came, and I thought the tip would never come out. But finally it did. Rick wiped me off and helped to the toilet, and after I had gotten rid of the water, and some solid stuff, too, I wiped and got up - and almost fell over.

Rick caught me, though, and picked me up and carried me in his arms down the hall and plopped me down onto my bed.

"Enemas can make you light-headed," he said, "So stay put. And no monkeyshines with Seth."

But Seth was sleeping and very soon so was I.

And when I woke up he was still sleeping, but I felt like doing something.

But what? It was boring when I was awake and Seth was sleeping. I wished he would play a game with me or something, or sing some songs. I looked at his guitar leaning against the wall. I wondered if he would mind if I tried it out, and decided he would.

I wandered out of the room and down the corridor to the examination room. I saw the enema can, upside down to dry, and above it, draped over a peg, the tube that had recently been inside me, also drying. I smelled it. It smelled mostly of rubber, not of my poop. I wondered how many boys' behinds that tube had gone up. I saw the blue jar full of "torpedoes" and next to it the Vaseline. Very quickly I unscrewed the cap and gouged out a gob and screwed the cap back on. Reaching back, I poked my finger into my bottom as far as I could, then took it out. I had a hard on.

I wiped my finger on a tissue and put it in the waste basket. I fantasized Rick was Sherlock Holmes and had found the tissue. "Look, Watson, this tissue has...hmm... petroleum jelly on it, and something else. Aha! Yes! That odor! It smells like...BOY! Quick, Watson, no time to lose. The game's afoot!!"

Back in my room I flopped onto my bed. I remembered one of my mother's favorite sayings: "The Devil makes work for idle hands". Well, I would prove her right.

Soon my right hand was working my cock up and down while my left forefinger was poking in and out of my behind. This time it didn't take long for me to get my feeling.

I was sleeping off my Devil's work when Rick came in with some beef broth with crackers. Sleepily I sat up and took a sip of broth. It tasted good, and soon I had devoured both broth and crackers.

"What about Seth?" I asked Rick. "Isn't he going to eat anything?"

"Maybe later."

When Seth did finally wake up it was mid-afternoon. I had been lying on my bed singing to myself a piece by Haendel called "Wash Me Throughly From My Wickedness" a very appropriate song for me to be singing considering that I had earlier been washed very "throughly" and also had more recently been quite wicked. Would an enema wash me of my wickedness? Or would it stimulate me to be even wickeder?

It was a rather difficult piece for two sopranos and I had sung in church with another boy, who took the second part, as his voice was slightly lower than mine. I had reached the point where the second voice would come in and miraculously, it did!

I looked across at Seth and he was on his side, partway up singing. I couldn't believe it, him knowing that piece, and also him being able to sing it, because his voice was almost changed. I turned and sat on the edge of my bed, and he did the same and then we were standing and singing at each other, and somewhere in the middle his voice cracked and we both got lost and broke out laughing and we exchanged high fives, slapping each other's hands quite hard and laughing, because it was such a miraculous thing, Seth knowing the piece too.

It turned out that Seth had been a choirboy too and had sung the piece with another boy, just as I had done. So we talked choirboy talk for some time, comparing notes and sharing stories. And after a while I asked Seth if he could teach me to play the guitar and he said sure and he sat on the edge of his bed and I sat on his lap and he put his arms around me and his hands on my hands and showed me the chords and how to pluck and strum the strings. It was nice sitting on his lap and feeling him under me. One time he said, "Stop squirming, you're giving me a hard on!"

I giggled, which probably made me bounce around even more.

By suppertime Seth had taught me the C chords, the G. chords, and one of the minor chords, and we sang a lot of folk songs together. Then I said, "Sing the one about the buzzing of the bees in the cigarette trees."

"You mean 'The Big Rock Candy Mountain' O.K." And he sang it, while I tried to memorize the words. Some of the words were pretty funny, like "the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft-boiled eggs." And when he came to the one that went "In the Big Rock Candy Mountain, you never change your socks/And little streams of lemonade come trickling down the rocks" he changed it to "come trickling out of your cocks." He had me really giggling over that one.

"I like that song," I said when he had finished.

"It's a song hoboes used to sing to boys like you, to beguile them."

"What does 'beguile mean?"

"It means 'to entice.'"

"Oh." I wasn't quite sure what 'entice' meant either, though I had a pretty good idea.

"You mean they wanted the kids to join their gang?"

"You've got it."

"But why?" But he didn't get a chance to answer, because just then Rick came with our suppers.

He didn't say anything about me being sitting on Seth's lap and both of us naked, but I tried to hide my hard-on as I went over to my bed.

I ate all of my supper, and for once Seth ate all of his too. Rick was amazed when he came in later. He looked at me and smiled, as if I had something to do with it. And maybe I did. It can get pretty lonely if you're the only sick boy, and having me there kind of cheered him up, I guess. I think he sort of liked me, even though he didn't always act like he did.

One again we were in the middle of a chess game - Seth was winning - when Rick called me for my evening enema.

"Have fun," Seth called as I threw on my bathrobe and went off down the hall to meet my fate.

"This is just going to be a rinse," Rick said as I shed my bathrobe and climbed onto the table, "But a high rinse, so I want you on your side again as it's easier to pass the tube that way."

The now familiar finger was soon inside me, preparing the way for the tube.

I pushed back against it, to let him know I was liking it. But soon his finger was out and the tube was in, and going up rather faster than the first time. It went around the flexture with no problem, and, pushing the warm water ahead to open the way, it soon was all the way in me, with the nozzle lodged inside my behind.

"You took that very well," Rick said, giving my behind a pat. I smiled.

Rick waved the can up and down, making waves inside me. Then he turned me onto my back with my knees up and massaged the water higher in higher. I lay back, breathing deeply, as Rick filled me. My cock was standing up as usual, but I was used to having Rick see this by now, and knew it was normal in boys my age, and didn't mean I was queer or anything.

Rick didn't make me hold the enema for long, since it was just a rinse, and soon I felt that funny feeling as he slowly pulled the tube out of me. Then I was off the table and running to the john.

Everything came gushing out fast, leaving me feeling very empty and when I got up and looked in the bowl I saw it was just water.

"Looks like you're clean as a whistle," said Rick, examining my production.

"What's clean about a whistle?" I asked.

"It's just an expression," he said,.


"Now I want you back on the table for just a second while I put something on your spot, in case it's sore from all the enemas."

It wasn't sore, but I wasn't going to say no to a little more attention back there so I just nodded and climbed onto the table and assumed the by now familiar position, with my behind in the air.

"I'm just going to work a little soothing cream into your bottom," he said, parting my cheeks with one hand and swirling his finger around my rosebud.

The stuff was very slick, smoother than Vaseline, and felt cool and nice. It felt even nicer when Rick pushed his finger right into me and worked it in and out and around, bathing my insides with the soothing cream.

He took out his finger and dipped it into the jar again and applied some more cream, inside and out. Then he wiped off the excess and gave my bottom a light slap to indicate he was finished with me. I grabbed my bathrobe and put it on.

"Sleep well," said Rick, "And be nice to Seth. Don't say 'fuck you' to him anymore."

"I won't."

When I got back to the room Seth was awake, reading a comic.

"So, how was your enema?" he asked.

"It was very nice, thank you," I said, tossing aside my robe and getting into bed.

Seth laughed. "You're a funny kid."

"I know."

"You do?"


"How do you know?

"People tell me."

Pretty soon Rick came in and said it was time for lights out, so Seth switched off the lamp he was reading by. It wasn't really dark because there was a moon shining in our window. My behind felt all squishy inside from the cream Rick had put there, and I wanted to put my finger in and play with my cock, but I knew Seth was still awake so I didn't. I just lay there listening to the silence. I knew this was my last night in the infirmary, and for some reason it made me feel sad. Then I heard my voice, which sounded like it was coming from far away.



"Are you asleep?"

"Yes." And a gave a snore.

"I mean, are you sleepy?"

"Not very. Why?"

"Well, I was just wondering..."


"Can I, um, come over to your bed?"

A long pause.

"You mean, to sleep here?"

"Um hum."

Another pause

"You're not afraid ?"

"Of what?"

Longer pause Then Seth took a deep breath and let it out..

"That I might, you know, take advantage of you or something."

"You mean beguile me?"

"Yeah, beguile you."

"I wouldn't mind. I just want to sleep with you. I'm lonely here." .

Pause. Then: "Well, I guess you're clean enough, anyway. O.K., little guy. C'mon over."

I leapt out of bed and ran over to Seth's bed and jumped in. He put his arms around me and I put my face down on his chest, and when he ran his hand down my back I shivered with pleasure and snuggled in closer to him. He sniffed my hair, then began singing, very, very softly, into my ear: "On a summer's day, in the month of May, a burly bum came a hiking......."

The first thing I remember in the morning was the sheet being pulled off of us and I knew without opening my eyes that Rick was standing there above us, probably smiling as he looked down at us, two boys, one big, one little, lying naked in bed together, arms and legs entwined. I pretended to be asleep. Then I felt the bed sag and Rick's hand on my hip, rocking it back and forth.

"O.k. you two love birds," he said. "Time to rise and shine."

I would like to be able to say that I kept in touch with Seth, visiting him in the infirmary and so forth, but the fact is that when I returned to my cabin the next day I got so involved in camp stuff that I hardly gave him another thought until after camp was over. And so I never knew whether his parents came back from Egypt and took him home or what was really wrong with him or if he got well or anything.

But for years afterwards my fondest memories of my summer camp were not swimming bare ass or hiking in the woods or playing Indian but those two days I spent in the infirmary, of Rick and his torpedoes and his wonderful enemas and most of all of Seth, and how he sang with me and taught me how to play the guitar and of the night we spent together, in his bed.

[Note: The Haendel piece is spelled correctly. That is, "Wash Me Throughly" not "Thoroughly"]


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