After a few minutes, Aunt Kate stopped massaging me, and I felt her warm hand on my bottom suddenly go away. “I’m taking it out now, Andy,”

I felt her fingers spread me a little, and the thermometer slowly slid out. It had more of a warm feel compared to when she had put it in. She allowed my buttocks to close. After a few seconds, Kate spoke, “No fever, though checking your temperature was not really the primary goal for this exercise. Stand up. We’ll get you on the exam table for your enema. This is going to be different than those little Fleet enemas that your mom gave you years ago. Climb up on the table so I can give you a rundown of what to expect and what I expect of you.”

I was still naked from the waist down, and it was awkward just standing there in front of Kate. When she told me to get up on the exam table, I went around to the other side to climb up facing her, but I was slowly realizing that my efforts at preserving my modesty were quite futile at this point. When I sat down, I could feel some of the greasy slipperiness between my inner buttocks and the smooth vinyl covering of the exam table. Aunt Kate hung up a bulging bag of clear water on a hook attached to the ceiling and unfurled the tubing. When she got to the end, she held out the nozzle to show me, “Andy, this is what I’m going to put in your bottom. It’s thicker than the thermometer, but small enough that you should have no trouble handling it. The thickest part is the egg-shaped tip, but it is no larger than a plump olive. You’ll take it just fine. It’s more for your peace of mind to keep it securely in your rectum so you don’t have to worry about it sliding out. I’m going to give you at least half the bag, but hopefully, you can take more. The more, the better. As you’ve noticed, there’s no toilet in the cottage. I’m going to have you expel squatting over that white bucket next to the table. Squatting rather than sitting is better. It’s a more natural posture for a BM. I don’t want you running to the house to use the bathroom there. I’m not going to have you leaking all over the floor in the house, making a mess.”

I pleaded against this indignity, “Please! I won’t make a mess! Let me go to the house!”

“No, Andy, it will be better this way. You’ll see. Just trust your Aunt Kate. Now — turn on to your left side and bring up your top leg with your knee bent. Way, way up close to your chest. That’s it. Aunt Kate needs good access to your bottom. Since my finger is thinner than the thickest part of the enema nozzle, I’m going to put my finger in you first. We will make progress by taking small steps like that. My nails are short, but I’m going to use a glove just so there is no chance of a sharp edge causing you any discomfort. I want you to understand that I am NOT using a glove because I think your bottom is not clean or it’s distasteful in any way. I think all parts of your body are beautiful and special in their own way.”

I could hear Aunt Kate putting on the glove behind me. I peeked over my shoulder and saw her stretch the blue glove over her hand with her slender, long index finger pointing upward. She caught me looking and smiled at me, “Just lay your head down and relax. I’ll tell you everything I’m doing before I do it. Just lubricating my finger now. And now I’m going to touch your anus. I’m just going to gently smear some Vaseline on your bottom hole. Good boy. Now, I want you to push out for me as if you are trying to poop. Good! That’s it. I can feel your anus relaxing with my fingertip. Relax for a few seconds and then push again. Good! Perfect! Rest again. The next time I am going to gently but firmly push my finger into you. You just have to keep pushing and you’ll do just fine. Push, push! There! Good boy! Nice and gentle right up inside you. My finger is in your rectum. Concentrate on your breathing and stay relaxed. Very good!”

The insertion was easier than I thought. Aunt Kate’s voice was soothing, and her encouragement made me want to please her. I was intensely aware of her finger, but it was just mildly uncomfortable. The slightest movement of it caused my anus to clamp down. It was so emotionally intense to have my Aunt doing something so intimate to me, but I no longer felt compelled to try to resist everything she wanted to do to me.

“OK, now Andy, I’m going to keep my finger in your bottom a bit longer so that we can do some exercises to help you learn how to control the muscles of your bottom hole. I’m going to have you squeeze my finger as tight as you can while I count out to three, then you will relax while I count to three, and then you’re going to push and bear down for three — like you did when I pushed my finger in. Think of it as trying to push my finger out. Don’t be worried that you’re going to fart or poop. I can tell that your rectum is completely empty. There is no gas or poop in here. Are you ready to start?”

“Yes. I’m ready.” This seemed like a game designed to embarrass me. It was mortifying that she was assessing whether I had poop or a fart in my butt.

“OK, here we go. Squeeze. Squeeze my finger! Tight, tight, tight! Good! Hold it! One. Two. Three. Good! Relax now. Breathe easy. Very good! You have a very strong anus. OK, now bear down and push. Push my finger out. That’s it! Harder. One. Two. Three. Relax. That worked very well. I could feel your anus soften and relax very nicely. That’s the way you’re going to be able to comfortably be penetrated in other parts of your exam. Remember how important that is.”

We did five rounds of this, and I found myself increasingly eager to hear my Aunt Kate’s soothing voice as she encouraged and praised me. We finished, and she slowly slipped her finger out of my bottom. It felt warm and so slick and somewhat like I was pooping, which was very unsettling. I felt empty then and, surprisingly, it did not give me the sense of relief I thought it would. The emptiness and the fact that her focus was now on readying the enema equipment made me feel a bit neglected.