B continued to sob as the shameful reality washed over him while he watched a porcelain basin be positioned below him. It looked like a larger version of the sinks you would see in a dental office. It was attached to a wall behind him by piping that resembled a pasta arm. He watched water swirling around the bowl as the height of the table was adjusted. MN held his tubes up and out of the way. The tug of the catheter in his dick was not something he would ever get used to.

Tears poured from his eyes. He knew he was not going to be allowed to use a bathroom or be afforded any sense of privacy. These two women were going to watch him uncontrollably lose his bowels in a few short moments.

His muscular form hung limp in the restraints. A sheen of sweat covered him. Held tight against the table B knew there was nothing he could do.

He whimpered as the balloons sealing him up were deflated one at a time. MN combing her fingers through his hair. She told him what a good boy he was.

The nurse who seemed to enjoy hurting him yanked the nozzle from his posterior without warning. B immediately clenched his sore overworked little muscle trying to delay his horrible shame.

She laughed at the futility of his attempt to hold it in. The torrent that gushed out of his body was accompanied by painful spasms in his rectum and asshole.

After what felt like an eternity of water gushing and his little bottom hole throbbing and twitching all the while— MN began to gently clean him up with warm towels. He winced and clenched when she wiped his little rosebud. It felt strange back there. Almost swollen.

“We will leave you to rest for a bit. I will come check on you later” and she left.

The other nurse gathered up the used enema equipment, tapped a few things on his exam table, and left the room.

The table moved back into a lying position. The lights clicked off. And he almost immediately fell asleep from exhaustion.