I have been good friends with Daniel for several years. We are both railroad enthusiasts in our 20s, and while Daniel is well known at a railroad park in our state, I was an unknown. We first came to know each other in an online railroad forum, and finally started private messaging each other constantly talking and sharing of train photos online. After a couple of months of this, we finally had the opportunity to meet in person when my parents and siblings decided to do a family get together on a fall weekend when Daniel just happened to be in town. It was a great meet up for us, but it was obvious that we both had one common interest: trains. Everything about us was different: our looks, our skills, and our other interests. Just to give you an idea of our looks, I am tall, with dark hair, and while I am husky, I am not overweight for my height. Daniel was mid-height with blonde hair, and was fairly thin.

As we lived several hours away from each other’s homes and from the park which was about halfway between us geographically, our entire friendship was mostly online for the first couple years. Two or three times a year, we would plan to get together to visit the railroad, and eventually both of us joined the historical society affiliated with the park. We both volunteered with the railroad to work on locomotives and railroad equipment, and occasionally went with the railroad’s maintenance crew to perform light repair work on the tracks.

One summer, after a particularly heavy summer storm, the road bed underneath of the tracks was washed away, causing a section of the railroad to be closed. Daniel and I, as well as a couple of other volunteers, agreed to get together one weekend to help the crew repair the washout. Our organization had a small dormitory and clubhouse that we leased so that our Board could have a place to stay for their meetings. The volunteers often stayed there too, but that particular weekend was also a planned meeting, which meant some of us had to take rooms at a nearby hotel. I chose to do this, and got a private room for myself. Daniel’s family owned a cottage less than five miles away, so he stayed there.

As the sun came over the horizon, we all got together for a quick breakfast of pancakes at the clubhouse, then hopped on a series of four track cars and headed to the site of the washout where fill dirt, ballast gravel, and equipment had already been set the day before. The washout was not as large as any of us volunteers had envisioned, but still took most of the day anyway. When lunch was served, I noticed that Daniel didn’t eat anything, and I asked him why. He said his stomach had been bothering him for a few days, and he just couldn’t see his way to eating the sandwich and chips that he had been given. I asked him more about it, he said he didn’t want to talk about it, and I left it at that.

The day wore on, and we finally finished the repair, and a locomotive was brought down to slowly run over the repaired washout to make sure that it was solid enough, and safe to begin hauling passengers over the following day. Everything went fine, so we packed up and went back to the depot. Everyone went their separate ways as it was still mid-afternoon, plenty of time for most of the other volunteers to make their way back home by dark, but too far for me. Daniel also planned to stay at his cottage, so I asked him to come hang out at my hotel room for a while, and maybe go get dinner later in the evening. He said he was glad to hang out, but still couldn’t eat anything.

He came over to my room, and we started playing cards. I decided to dig a little deeper, and ask him what the problem was, and why he wouldn’t eat anything. He said his stomach felt really full, and I told him, half jokingly, that my bathroom was nice and he should go check out the toilet. He just snickered and tried to change the subject, but I pressed on and said “Seriously dude, you should go sit on the commode. That is what you need isn’t it?”

He finally confessed, “Yeah, you figured it out I haven’t shat at all since Tuesday.” (it was now Saturday).

“Sheesh! Not at all?” I said. “How the heck do you hold all that in you? Where do you put it?”

We finally came to the end of a card game.

“Serious, man, go sit on the toilet for a few minutes, see what happens. That isn’t good.”

He threw his cards down kinda in a tiff, and went into the bathroom. He was in there for about ten minutes or so before he finally emerged.

“Well I got a small pebble out,” he said, feigning triumph.

“Is that all?” I returned. “There should be a lot more than that after four days. How often do you usually go?”

“Wow what is this 20 questions? None of your damn business.”

“I was just asking.”

He shuffled with the cards for a few seconds then finally said, “I usually go twice a day, but this has happened a lot lately. Last month I went a whole week without going.”

“Holy shit! So really you have about ten dumps worth in there,” I said, half laughing.

“Something like that. Come on, I’ll deal.”

We played cards for about an hour, by then it was 5:00 and I was starting to get hungry, but worried about Daniel, too.

“There isn’t anything you can eat? I think I’m going to go grab something.”

“None for me,” he said.

“Daniel, I’m going to ask you a personal question and I want an honest answer, okay?”

“I guess. What?”

“Have you ever had your pipes cleaned?”

“Huh?”

“You know. Have you ever had one of those enema things?”

“What is that?” he asked, confused.

“When you run water into your colon. It makes you take a huge crap and cleans your bowels.”

“Ugh, no, I haven’t done that before. I think I’d remember if I had.”

“Yes you would, no question. I think you need one really bad. It sounds like you’ve got some blockage in there if it keeps happening like you say.”

“I just don’t know. It sounds painful.”

“No, it’s a little uncomfortable, but not painful. Remember how I told you when I was in high school I went to vocational school for a semester to learn to be a medical practitioner before I quit?”

He nodded, I had told him my life story.

“Well, one of the first things they taught us was how to give an enema. I think they were trying to weed out some of the people by grossing them out. It didn’t scare me off.”

“Sure it didn’t!”

“No, I just couldn’t do the chemistry. Anyway, if you want, I can run to the store and pick you up a kit. I can tell you how to do it so you don’t hurt yourself.”

“No thanks. I just don’t think I could do that.”

“You really need it. I mean, I can do it for you, all you would have to do is let it happen. I think you’re going to eventually end up getting one anyway whether you want it or not, wouldn’t you rather have it done in private with me or in a doctor’s office someplace?”

A temporary silence befell the room. He got up from the spare bed we were sitting on and headed for the door.

“I’ll think about it,” he eventually said. “I’m going to head back to my place since you’re going to get dinner.”

“Come back over later tonight if you want. We can watch a movie or something.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I get into at home. If I don’t see you tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The area where the railroad is located is very remote, and there are only a couple of stores in the area, neither of them chain stores. Both had a limited supply of groceries and a limited supply of household merchandise. Literally only the basics.

There was a small restaurant right next to one of the stores, so I decided to peruse the aisles while waiting for my takeout dinner to be complete. I really doubted I would see Daniel again that night, so wasn’t really looking for anything in particular when I saw ‘it’! I couldn’t believe it…this small store which had virtually nothing in stock, had a hot water bottle kit…complete with enema accessories! I picked up the box and looked it over, but then set it back down. I started to walk away, and then something drew me back. I ended up buying it, overcompensating by telling the cashier we had kittens at home and needed it to keep them warm.

I went to get my dinner…I was so hungry I ate right in the parking lot. Delicious, but large portions…I had tons leftover. As I finished up eating and was about to leave the store parking lot I received a text from Daniel. He said he’d be back over to my hotel around 8:00. I had already started my car, but decided to go back into the store. I bought two gallons of purified water, salt, and some KY. I also saw they had travel sized baby oil on sale, so I grabbed one of those too. I got another cashier, so I’m sure no one suspected a thing.

As I pulled back into the hotel parking lot, Daniel was just coming down the road. I walked into the room with the items I’d bought, and he followed behind. I asked him if he was feeling any better.

“If you’re asking if I took a crap, the answer is ‘no’. And I still don’t feel well, I’m only here to visit with you, not be interrogated. Okay?”

“Jeez, don’t be so irritable. I tell you what, give me a couple of minutes, and I think I have a solution for your problem. I need to go in the bathroom, and I’ll be back out in a couple minutes.”

Conveniently, there was a coffee maker in the bathroom. I took out a small bottle of peroxide that I had in my first aid box, and poured some water into the tank, and mixed in some peroxide to sterlize it. After the water had run through the tank and into the coffee pot, I then poured about 1/3 of one of the gallon jugs of water back into it, and let it run through the machine. I poured it in the bag, and to even out the nearly boiling water, I poured more of the cool water from the gallon jug into the bag. I then poured some salt in, then attached the cap. I shook the bag to mix up the salt, then hung it from the door knob. I was feeling a little nervous, so just hung out for a minute. The water was still red hot even though I had diluted it, so there was plenty of time.

I went back into the room and asked Daniel if he would mind if I gave him an abdominal massage to see if that would help him out and relax him. He was still a little tense and nervous as we had never even touched each other before that I could recall, but he lifted up his shirt so it was around his chest, exposing his belly. I was surprised to see that he had a significant amount of hair on his stomach—I had imagined that since he was blonde he probably had peach fuzz. He did not have a six pack, but rather had a rounded tummy like I did, but was not fat in the least. I took some of the baby oil and rubbed his belly clockwise, starting in the lower right where his appendix would be, and working around in the approximate outline of his bowel. When I hit a sore spot, he screamed out in pain.

“Be careful, will you? No need to be rough!”

“I wasn’t, I just hit a blockage I think. I’m going to rub it a little deeper.”

I pushed down, he exhaled heavily, but I could feel a hard place. I heard his belly growl and he relaxed some, so I assume I did break something loose that needed it. I found another sore spot down near his waistband of his pants, and did the same to it. It was pretty tight, and I gave up before I got anywhere, figuring the next part of the treatment would take care of that.

When I was done, I told him it was time to assume the position.

He looked at me quizzingly and asked “What position”?

“I need you to get up on your hands and knees facing the head board.”

He did as I asked but still seemed confused.

“If you need to rip a fart, now’s your chance,” I snickered.

I went into the bathroom and brought the enema bag in, full to the brim. There was a coat hook screwed into the wall near the bed, so I hung the bag on it. I grabbed the chair from the desk, and pulled it up behind Daniel. I told him to pull down his pants, and he

looked back over his shoulder at me, puzzled.

“Why do I need to take down my pants?”

It was at that moment that I realized that Daniel had absolutely no idea what an enema was. I can only imagine the confusion he was feeling, for I had known since my mom gave me a Fleet enema when I was four. I tried to gently break the news to him.

“Daniel, I’m sorry I didn’t know you weren’t aware what I was doing. An enema, which is what is in the rubber bag, is salt water that I’m going to squirt up your butt to make you poop. It won’t hurt, and there’s no reason to be embarrassed because no one will ever know about this but us.”

I expected him to get mad or storm out of the room in a fit of rage. He just laid down on the bed for a second and asked if there was any other way to do this so he didn’t have to take his pants down.

“No, there really isn’t. You could try to give it to yourself and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Ugh, no I just would be afraid to make a mistake and hurt myself. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes, I’m very confident. I’ve never given to anyone else before, but I’ve done it to myself a few times, and of course practiced on the dummies in Tech School. It’s a simple procedure really, its just very sensitive.”

“Yeah,” he said nervously.

“Just so you can see how it works, I’m going to turn it on. I have to do this anyway to let the air out of the hose.” I opened the clip as he watched closely. The water finally shot out like a water fountain. He just sat there, sort of in awe.

“Come on, you don’t have to do anything but kneel on the bed and just do what I say. Nothing to worry about. It will be over in a few minutes, and you’ll feel a lot better after its over. I promise.”

He drew a deep breath, gave an awkward half smile, and got back up on his knees, facing away from me. He lowered his pants, showing his tighty whiteys. I had never really realized how big of a butt he had compared to the rest of his body. It was nice and round, and filled out his briefs well. I was a guy, but was really excited to “de-brief” him.

I sat down in the chair and asked him to scoot back so his feet were dangling over the edge of the bed in front of me. “Just lean forward,” I then told him. I walked up to the head of the bed and grabbed him a pillow. “Here, rest your head on this and fold your arms under it.”

I went back and took out the KY and started lubing the enema nozzle. “I’m going to pull down your underoos now.” I reached for the waist band and slowly lowered his underwear down just under his ass. What a nice rump! As with his tummy, it was a little hairier than I had imagined, but no where near as much as mine, and it was mostly confined to the lining of his butt crack. I could barely see his butt hole, so I pulled his right cheek to one side and took a look. The kid was spotless! His butt smelled of baby powder, and not of shit. I was surprised. I reached again for the KY, and applied some to my finger. I had forgotten to buy rubber gloves, but decided it didn’t matter to me. I spread his cheeks again, and shoved my finger up his rear end as far as it would reach. My last knuckle was in his butt! It was a very warm and moist tube, and I could feel his muscles grabbing on to it as I moved my finger around to spread the lube. I could feel something hard right at the tip of my finger, and realized it was a petrified turd.

“You really need this,” I told him. I decided to play a quick little game with him. “I’m going to put my finger up your butt again, and I want you to poop it back out. I’m just checking your muscles.”

It felt awesome! It was almost like his hole was giving my finger a massage as much as the other way around. “Good. See not so bad. My finger is bigger than the enema tube, so if you didn’t have a problem there, then you will definitely be fine.”

I then went back into the bathroom and grabbed some TP to clean my finger off, and to have in case he had an accident during the enema.

“Well, Daniel, we fixed a washout earlier today, now I’m going to give you a washout!” He gave a small giggle, then back to business. I got ahold of the tip, spread his rear again, and held it up to his ass hole. “Alright bud, here it comes. Just stay still.”

I heard him take a deep labored breath as I drove the tube into his butt.

“God that’s cold,” he said.

“Just give it a minute, the water in the bag is lukewarm, so you’ll warm right up.” I opened the clip, and heard a gurgle as the water started to enter his butt.

“Just relax man. I started the water. Do you feel it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Let me know if it starts to cramp up bad. When it does I’ll stop the water a moment so you can catch your breath. The hook on the wall is fairly low though, just above the top of your butt, so it should flow nice and slow. It will take a few minutes, so the cramps will probably be minimal,” I said in a clinical voice.

I held the tube in his ass for a moment to make sure it was seated firm, and finally let it go gently. I reached over and grabbed the baby oil I had used when massaging his belly, and started rubbing it on his butt.

“What are you doing back there?” he said.

“Just giving you a little massage,” I returned. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No it feels alright. I don’t think I’ve had my butt massaged in baby oil ever! Well at least not since I was a baby,” he chuckled.

I continued to massage him as the water slowly flowed into his gut. “How you feeling up there?”

“I’m starting to get a pain right where you were rubbing me a while ago.”

I looked around and could see he was holding his stomach right under his ribs, right where I found the sore spot before. “Just relax,” I said, trying to sooth him. “I’ll stop the water for a minute. You’re a little over half way done. I’ll come up there and rub your belly some more.”

I got up on the bed next to him, and laid back, almost like a mechanic looking under a car. I gently applied pressure to the spot and he cringed, then relaxed a bit. “Feel better?” I asked.

“A little. I don’t know if I can take much more though.”

“You’ll make it. I’ll give you another minute before we continue though.” I relaxed on the bed a second, and looked over. Holy shit…I got a glimpse of his prick completely on accident! It was uncut, semi-erect. Even though he was significantly smaller in body size than me, it looked like he was fairly endowed down below. This guy would make a girl really happy someday…a nice butt and a nice dong…dang! I resisted commenting on it, figuring I’d probably embarrass him more than he already was. I went back to his rear end, made sure the tube was still properly inside him, and started the flow.

“I’m going to raise the bag up to give the water a little more pressure. You will probably get another cramp, but this will speed the process up a bit for you. I know its uncomfortable kneeling like that, and you have to hold it a while after we stop the enema.”

We hit another rough spot and he cramped, but I asked him to try to deal with it until he couldn’t take it. Just as the last drops were flowing into his bowel, he cried uncle. “Stop! I just don’t think I can take anymore. You’re going to have a mess to clean up!” I did stop, but not until I had let the water finish flowing.

“You’re all done anyway. You took the whole thing! Congratulations!” I said, as if he’d won the Publisher’s Clearing House.

“How much did you give me?” he quizzed.

“About half a gallon.”

“Damn, I feel that.”

“Okay, well you need to hold it for five minutes, then you can go poop it out.”

“That long? I don’t know if I can make it.”

“You’ll make it,” I encouraged. “Here, I’ll help you a little.” I reached back between his cheeks and firmly pushed my finger back in his butt. I started moving it in and out.

“Stop!” He shouted.

“Just relax, Daniel. Just let it happen.”

He exhaled deeply as if he was mad, but didn’t say anything.

I worked his ass pretty hard, moving in and out. I really was trying to soothe him, but within a couple of minutes: “I think I’m going to cum!” he yelped. I didn’t have time to get a towel, so he jizzed all over the bed comforter. He must have dropped ½ a pound off of his body weight in that one orgasm. Just as it was happening, I leaned my head down to see it happen. What a show!

“I can’t hold it any more,” he said. I’ve got to take a crap…NOW.”

“You held it for about three minutes, so not bad. Okay, you can go.” I thought about making him poop my finger out again, but figured that would end badly, so I just pulled it out gently. “Leave the door open. I need to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t faint.”

I heard him slam the seat down quickly and then the gush of water and shit spewing out of him all at once. He was literally exploding in my toilet. After the initial gush, I was surprised, though, at how much the rest of his dump just sounded like I did when I took a regular crap. I guess he really had a lot bunged up with a lot of solid coming out…the enema was really, REALLY needed. After a few minutes, I heard the telltale signs of him find his way to his feet.

“Good god,” he said. I went over to see him standing there, pants around his ankles. “Boy did I need that,” he said with relief.

“Yup, you did.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Of course man. You need help, and you’re my bud.”

Just then his guts gurgled and he doubled up, and quickly sat back down on the commode.

“Now the real stuff is going to come out,” I said. “Whenever I do an enema, I always think I’m done, but then this happens, and all the really heavy, gross stuff comes out.”

He was focused on his efforts, so I left him to finish. He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, and I asked him if he regretted it.

“No, it was embarrassing at first, but since I know this is just between friends, I don’t feel bad at all. I know you won’t tell.”

“For sure. I mean, how would I bring this up in conversation? ‘Well I gave my friend an enema the other day.’” We both snickered.

As it turns out, this wasn’t the last ‘washout’ that Daniel and I shared. This is just the beginning.