Saturday morning treat
This bag holds 2 quarts like most bags, but to a boy woken and called into the bathroom Saturday morning, it looks SO big. Will I be able to hold it? Will it hurt? Well, I would find out. “Get undressed. It’s time for your enema.” I was compliant and soon found myself naked, over the lap, head at the floor and legs dangling with the nozzle in my rectum and the hot, soapy water flooding my colon. It was such a love-hate thing, but one that left an indelible mark. This morning, in just undies and sox, I will replay that and be the good boy I was all those other times.
Caleb knew the routine: strip and get on all fours. He could hear the water running and saw the soap. He knew the enema was going to be hot and soapy and that he would have to take the whole bag. He also knew that as it progressed he was getting harder. As tough as the enemas were to take, he really loved them.
De Clisteribus 