Date: Sat, 12 May 2001 11:12:16 -0700 (PDT) From: Bobbie Subject: warren and the woodie pt 5 In my last account I mentioned my passion for enemas. It seems to play a major role in my activities and was my first real adventure into anal erotism. So, without further ado here is how it happened. I was back at that pre pubescent age, before the encounter with Warren that started this narrative. My buddy Tommie was a year older and he always seemed to have something special to tell me about. Wait, I have to go back even farther to introduce you to Tommie. It was before we were even in elementary school. One morning Tommie came over and told me he had something neat to show me. We had to go into the back lot, an area covered with tall weeds, or a shed and he would show me. We went into the weeds. There he produced a bunch of crayons. Wow, I wasn't impressed at all. Everyone had seen crayons. "Watch this," he said. Tommie pulled down his pants and in one quick motion stuck the crayon up his ass. The waxy shaft slid right in. "Here, you try one." I thought about it for about two seconds. After all Tommie was older and I generally followed his lead. I was a bit cautious as I slowly inserted the crayon. It felt good in a strange sort of way that I really couldn't understand. "Try this," he urged and I watched as he slowly moved the crayon in and out. I tried it and liked it. We spent the morning in the weeds playing with crayons. First it was each of us doing ourself and then it moved on to taking turns inserting crayons in the other's all. Over the next few years, Tommie and I tried various things that we found, gradually taking larger items. Then one day when we were probably about 10, Tommie showed up with a squirt bulb. It was a tine bulb that held probably a teaspoon of water at the most. I don't know if he knew about enemas or the idea just came to him, but we just had to try squirting water up there. Since his mother was at home and no one was at home at my house we went to my house and into the bathroom. It was wild, the tiny bulb squirted water through the anal opening. It was a bit clumsy but it worked. Of course we never really got very much water that way, but we liked it. After a few afternoons of that sport, we started looking in the drawers and cabinet in the bathroom for new excitement. We found my mother's douche bulb. It was a big white bulb and the nozzle was one of the old style that gradually increased in size until it formed a shield probably about 2 inches across. It was awesome. Tommie immediately pronounced that he could take that in his ass. As exciting as the prospect was, we were very careful with our selection of items for insertion. We knew somehow we would be in a world of hurt if we got caught. We examined the bulb with care and decided there was no way we could get it totally dry if we used it and we would get caught. But, we reasoned out a plan that should be the envy of any man. I would check it daily and If I found it damp, then we thought it would be safe. I didn't check every day but about three weeks later I found a damp bulb. I ran to Tommie's house with the news. In minutes we were in the bathroom and the sink was full of water and the bulb was being squeezed to fill it. Tommie bent over and tried to insert the nozzle, but it was a little too big to go in easily. At that point we weren't going to be stopped. We quickly found some vaseline and greased the thing up and managed by sitting down on it we got it in. I squeezed the bulb and the water sprayed against the side of Tommie's bowel. The reaction was almost instantaneous. Tommy had to go and go bad. As soon as he had recovered from the wash out he commented that it felt pretty good "in a funny way." I had to try it. We refilled the bulb and put some more vaseline on in and started pushing it in. Finally it split my ass open and I had the nozzle in. I was in heaven. Tommy squeezed the bulb and the water rushed in. Like Tommy, I couldn't hold it long but it was really a turn on. I'm not sure if it was the fact that we were doing something we shouldn't be doing that made it so good or if it was really that good. After I had emptied, we wiped the bulb clean (or so we thought) and put it away. It was Friday afternoon and we had just had a really great experience. However, it wasn't over for me. In our haste to get everything put away and cleaned up, we made a mistake. Instead of putting the bulb in its blue cloth bag under the towels in the drawer, we left it on top. I got caught. Saturday morning Dad went off to work and I was about to head down the street to see Tommie when I heard the voice in the background, "young man," she started, "We have to have a little talk." Those words meant only one thing, I was in Trouble. "Yes Mom" "Come in the bathroom for a minute." O shit, I'm a gonner flashed through my mind. I went into the bathroom and mom was standing by the drawer, the drawer open and the bulb in its blue sack there on top of the towels. "Would you like to tell me about this?" I tried to play dumb -- dumb thing to do. "What mom?" "About this," she said as she picked up the douche bulb. "Well uhh," I was stammering as I tried to come up with an excuse I though would work. "Well" I had about 10 seconds left to come up with something before I was dead meat. "Uh, I happened to see it there and I was kinda well, I hadn't gone and well, I tried to..and..that is about it." "What?" "I was trying to make myself go." "I, see." At that point I got a fifteen minute lecture about the personal nature of the douche bulb, the problems I could create if I contaminated it and how I would probably not live to see the sun set if I ever touched it again and did I understand?" I thought it was going to pass over at that point. "I'm sorry, I didn't know." That started a recitation about the things I didn't know that ended with "You just sit down on the edge of the tub while I clean this. The sink was run full of warm water and lots of soap and mom scrubbed the bulb in and out. She turned on water in the tub to rinse it and then patted it dry before replacing it. "Now there is no need for you to look for it in the drawer again because it won't be there, understand." "Yes mom." It was beginning to look like I might live through this afterall. "Wait right there," She said and she left the bathroom for a couple of minutes. She returned with a combination water bottle enema kit and a measuring cup that had a pouring lip. "Since you were having problems going, and I know that your little adventure with my douche didn't cure that problem, we are going to take care of that for you." "What?" "You are going to have a proper enema, young man." When she tacked that `young man' on to the end of a sentence, there was no reason to argue or question. It was a done deal in her mind. "Now, out of those clothes." My protestations were to no avail. Embarrassed and bare assed I was soon over her lap and the bag was hanging from a cord tied to the shower curtain rod. The bag hung about a foot above my butt. "We are going to get you cleaned out good." I was kicking and complaining but at the same time curious. I didn't have to wait long. Very soon the warm soapy water that she had used to wash the douche syringe were entering my bowel. The soap burned a bit and I squirmed a lot, but at the same time It was producing a very strange pleasurable sensation. Before long however I was bloated and the bag was empty. Mom kept me there on her lap after she pulled out the skinny enema nozzle. The soap suds were beginning to work and I was complaining that I had to go and after what seemed an eternity, she let me up to empty my straining bowels. When I thought it was all over with and that it hadn't been that bad, in fact kinda pleasurable, mom reappeared with another bag full. This time it was cooler plain water. "We can't leave all that soap in there so now it is rinse time." I complained, not about to admit it felt good but secretly I enjoyed that second bag full. This time mom let me up pretty quickly and told me I could get dressed after I was done. I savored the moment and then working hard put a frown on my face and left the bathroom. I was going to head over to Tommie's and tell him all about it. Mom stopped me before I got to the door. "I think you will be staying home today." "What" We have to make sure you are really regular again so until you have a normal bowel movement for me, I think you will have to stay home. It was going to be a long day. I was dying to get out and see my best friend, but it wasn't looking likely. Right after lunch, however, I did have to go to the bathroom. Mom saw me go to the bathroom and told me not to flush. I produced a bit of brown water and a couple of tiny pieces of feces. "Just as I thought," she pronounced after looking at my work. "What?" "You are still bound up or that would have been a good BM." "We are going to have to do it all over again." "Mom" "Don't argue." I no more needed another enema than the man in the moon, but Mom was going to try and make it so miserable I wouldn't try it again. The afternoon session started with a bag of soapy water and a long wait. I was starting to enjoy the full feeling. I later learned that the second enema, after the system has been cleaned out is much more pleasurable. Then came the second bag. I just couldn't take all of it but the strain was a mixture of pain and pleasure. Mom was hoping for discomfort and I was cheering for pleasure. Pleasure really won out. I evacuated and mom finished the afternoon session with a quick bag of plain water. My bowels had been rinsed from top to bottom. When we were done, she handed me a tube of cloverine salve to sooth the heat of my now rather warm bottom. Then came the final admonition. "If I ever catch you messing around with enemas or my douche you will be grounded for a month. If you think you need to get loosened up, you come ask me." That settled it for her. On Monday I searched for the douche bulb and the enema equipment but couldn't find them. Tommie had a hard time believing what had happened and we immediately started looking for substitutes. Anyway, that's how I got hooked on enemas.