“SLRRRRP….”

That unmistakable sound… Michael realized the first bulb was finally empty and sighted deeply. AH…. Yes, he felt it; the (also) unmistakable feeling of hot, very soapy water resting in his awaiting, but not compliant, rectum, after traveling from the black, round bulb mom was squeezing, through the plastic nozzle inserted in his pretty well-lubed asshole, right into his depths. 100cc of a very special mixture formed with familiar Ivory soap, whose smell flooded the entire bathroom, carefully worked into a big bowl of water, until mostly dissolved; a bowl Michael could perfectly see from his spot over mom’s warm lap: a subtle form of psychological punishment, the boy seeing the bowl’s water level slowly going down the same rate that same soapy water was emptied inside him. A fine addition to the real punishment, obviously that big enema he was starting to receive. He couldn’t forget, too, mom’s grip on his naked, bruised cheeks, burning bright after the hard spanking dad gave him; now a V.I.P. witness of this second part of the discipline his parents were imparting of him. That part, in his 19 years old, was the part he felt the hardest pill to swallow: there he laid, completely naked, on his mother’s legs, his own legs apart, asshole exposed, ass filled with hellish liquid, observed carefully by his father, who just finished beating his ass into submission. Humiliating, after feeling so adult to make his decisions, but all has turned into shame… First cramps, expected, but those cramps, harder than expected…

“SSSSLLRRRPPPP…”

UUUH…. The nozzle got outside his backside for a second time: another 100cc he had to deal with. He noticed his bowels complaining already with the content they were receiving against their will. OGH… That beer he drank was not agreeing with the enema¡ Somehow, dad read his mind and expressed the exact same words to him, reprimanding his attitude. “I didn’t drink that much…¡” Michael replied, defying the authority supervising his punishment. “I…. I did not…. It is not that serious, Dad¡ Mom…. C’mon, it’s just some beers…¡” He insisted on his innocence; Well, most precisely, in the “not-such-severity” of his fault: Michael couldn’t comprehend how taking some beers from the weirdo in the store in the corner was such an atrocious crime that earned him that fifty swaps spanking (and father hit HARD) and what looked like (and surely would feel like) an awfully big & uncomfortable enema. Dad, likewise, could not understand how his son wasn’t seeing he just narrowly avoided a report because that “weirdo” talked to him instead of going to the police. Angered even more with this son’s denial, Dad raised his tone trying (successfully) to impose rank, threatened him with more swaps after the enema (Michael swallowed saliva), telling him in harsh words how serious was what he did; her mother agreed, supported his husband’s reprimand inserting the nozzle into his son’s ass for a third time. Michael’s mind was in the middle of HIS vision of that happened, that he, and his friend, just “borrowed” some cans, and his father’s vision, which was, and for him hard to accept, he stole from that poor old man. His bowels receiving the next bulb could change his mind…

“SLLLRPPPP…”

OOH…. Michael moaned. He tried understanding how he got caught; Dad didn’t tell him. Did the man saw them? Impossible, they had Jhonny distracting him, the beer was in the fourth hallway… He couldn’t see that far. And he’s deaf, he couldn’t have heard them either¡ Someone saw them and snitched on them? They were alone, supposedly at least. Then, how the f*ck…. MMMM…. Michael heard his mom filling again the black bulb & felt his colon twisting. He needed the toilet already, but the bowl hasn’t even half emptied yet. His mind run full steam between thinking both plausible & impossible scenarios about how they got caught, the solution shaking his bowels as if it were a wasp’s nest, and once more, the plastic nozzle trespassing his asshole with the next dose of punishment soup to be placed deep in his guts. The boy could barely focus on the lecture he was getting about ever thinking about anything remotely close to stealing again, and that that punishment enema he was getting, entirely, they reiterate, would make sure of it. Michael was starting to get convinced about not trying again, but for now, he knew, without a doubt that, if he DID try, he would be extra careful because that was indeed an enema he could not forget. SHIT… he thought. So hot, so soapy… so desperate¡ How much he regretted drinking three of those cans, that cigarette he smoked after, how… much he was starting to regret his attitude. His squirms over mom’s lap, clue enough for both his parents, their child starting to come to his senses.

“SLURRPP…. “

“Do I… must take the entire bowl? Really¡? Dad, I can’t….” Michael begged. Dad repeated, he was to take the entire bowl. Oh, no… Michael was having such a tough time coming to terms with his sentence. He was informed both Jhonny & Derek, his “co-perpetrators” were getting enemas too. Man, he has seen Derek take an enema when he was little and didn’t manage the situation very well¡ Michael though, if the enema was like his… But, he could not find any consolation in knowing someone was having a worse time than him, because, he was having one HELL of a time there¡ Sweat from the hotness in his asshole ran down both his cheeks, cramps running through his intestines, wave after wave braking into his bowels. His limit was near, and he wasn’t sure his limit was below taking the full bowl. How much was? 700cc, maybe…? He never took that much being the enema that soapy. He turned a little bit to see his father’s look, to know if he could ask for mercy… It didn’t look like it, his world falling apart little by little…

“SSSSSSSLLPP… PRR….”

“OHMYGOD¡” Michael whimpered, loudly. He clenched hard around the nozzle stuck up his ass, the bulb drained from its contents, now a pool of torture inside Michael’s rectal cavity. He was desperate but not done, trying his best to hold still, moving around mom’s legs to avoid exploding wild, clenching shut while his mom retired the nozzle. Mom ordered stillness, but Michael couldn’t guarantee that anymore. “Mom, I’m so full… I need the toilet, please…¡.” He begged. Not lying: he was THAT urged. Too much liquid demanding a way out, and he was losing its resistance against the rebellion uprising in him. Mom told him he had to finish the entire enema, Michael not resisting the overwhelming feelings he had, his voice shaking. “Please, I just can’t….” He whimpered, but found no mercy: father told him, as hard as the enema was, he had to take it entirely. Tears dropped from his eyes, he boy, terribly sorry for his attitude, apologizing sincerely for his boldness. “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry…¡ I won’t do that again… I learned my lesson¡.” Sincere words, Michael managed to melt a bit of mom’s ice heart: the woman felt some pity and managed to get the water pendant into one (filled to the brim) bulb, which would be its last.

“SSSSPPPP…PR…. SLRPPP….”

“MMMMMPPH….” The bulb finally surrendered all its fluid into Michael. The enema was finally over, at least getting the bowl in. Mom got his son standing in front of them, congratulated her son for taking such hard punishment, and asking for a sincere apology. Michael, sobbing beyond consolation, swearing to God, he would never do that again. Dad was right all along when warning him he would promise to be a better boy: his son’s attitude reflected truth in his words, the enema, as intended, placing all that bad behaviour into the exit ramp. With several other stuff, of course. Michael could no conceal in any way he was utterly desperate, about to POP in a very messy way: his face bright red, legs bended over, both hands placed on his butt, and, just seeing his expression, their parents could deduce he was clenching his butthole like his life depended on it. “Dad, can I use the bathroom, please?” He asked. Dad, satisfied, authorized his son to sit on the toilet; Mom passed the seat, and Michael sat loudly on the throne; with both his parents already picking up the material they used, but still on the bathroom, Michael, embarrassed but too urged to care that much, lost control of his body and wide-opened the floodgates, unleashing an almost two-minutes long Maelstrom on porcelain village. The boy sighted DEEP in extreme relief, all that water that he took progressively expelled violently in one fell swoop, in the form of a loud gush of mud that splashed noisily. The smell was unmistakable, too: healthy s*t after a soapy enema and all that nasty attitude ridden of the spirit, another extra point in embarrassing Michael in front of his parents. But, with a life lesson learned, Michael got clean in all forms possible from that bathroom… Beer shoplifting, meant, attitude cleansing.