Robert was 23, recently graduated with an MBA, and freshly hired as a junior associate at the regional office of a well-known consulting firm. His thick, dirty-blond hair was of medium length, parted in the center and brushed to the sides in a manner not unlike that of Lysippus’s portrait of Alexander the Great (though he wouldn’t have known that). It framed a face of regular and unblemished, if not strikingly handsome, features. Pale grey eyes signaled a ready intelligence, and introspection sometimes bordering on melancholy. His frame was slender, even slight; at 5’10”, and weighing no more than 135 lbs. when sopping wet, he was nonetheless agile and quick, the product of competitive swimming and tennis in school and college. The overall impression he gave was one of youthful good looks rather than of fashion-model beauty.

The most remarkable physical features he possessed were his buttocks. Curving gracefully outward from the small of his back, they formed two perfect, smooth orbs, crisply delineated where they met his thighs. The cleft between them was deep. In short, he had an archetypal bubble-butt. It might even have been called prominent, were it not so perfectly proportioned to the rest of his body. When concealed beneath the conservative drape of the dark suits he wore to the office, his truly callipygian physique was not apparent, but it ‘came into its own’ during his leisure hours, when he changed into the snug, faded Levis that he’d favored since his teens. His round cheeks filled out the seat of his jeans in spectacular fashion. The center seam rode up into his cleft, lifting and separating them. People of either sex who did not give him a second look as they walked toward him, turned and stared as he walked away. This had been the case since he was in high school, though he was not fully conscious of it.

Quiet and reserved by nature, while he made no secret of his sexuality, he also felt no need to proclaim it to the world. His close friends, both men and women, knew that he was gay; that was enough for him. Some of them might have surmised (not entirely incorrectly) that he’d like to have a stiff cock thrust deeply and vigorously into that gorgeous bottom – a few wished they might be the ones to render that service. Yet even those who made overt advances were gently dissuaded, not by an outright rebuff, but by the demurral of interest in a casual fling. His relationships, if any, remained a cipher to all but one.

The truth of the matter was that Robert was intensely anally erotic, but in a very specific way. Enemas, and allied procedures, had been the principal source of sexual energy and satisfaction in his life almost since puberty.

Being a bright and curious lad, Robert read all that he could about the prostate, the rectum, and the pelvic anatomy of the male. He began to masturbate anally on a regular basis, first with fingers, and then with improvised toys, such as wax candles he pilfered from the supply his mother kept for the formal dining room. At length he read about enemas and proctological examinations, and (despite or perhaps because he had never experienced an enema) was curious about the experience.

One day he found an old douche bag on the shelf of a dusty closet – whether it had belonged to his mother, his older sister, or some other female relative, he did not know, but it had lain there unused for some time. Using the longer douche nozzle, he administered his first enema. His cock became tumescent on the first insertion of the nozzle – and, as he worked it in and out during the infusion, then sat on the toilet to expel, he aroused himself further until he exploded in an orgasm surpassing anything he had experienced before. It felt so good!

After that, enemas were the order of the day any time he had the house to himself. He couldn’t wait to strip down, get on his hands and knees, and soak up a quart, then two, then three, as his capacity expanded. It always ended with a satisfying and saturating ejaculation. Going off to college, as a resident in a dormitory, he found his ability to enjoy such occasions curtailed; later, in graduate business school, he had his own apartment and was able to indulge himself more often. However, he found that he could not comfortably raise the subject in the course of typical sexual encounter he might have with another young man of his age. His contemporaries might use a Fleet to clean out before a date or before going out clubbing, but the idea of enemas and other ‘medical’ ass play seemed extreme and outré. After a couple of negative responses, Robert quit bringing it up.

All this had changed in the past six months. Robert had met a fellow enthusiast – finally not too far away – via an enema enthusiasts’ group on the Internet. Doug was somewhat older. He was barrel-chested, stocky but fit, in his mid-forties, with a brushy mustache and a ready smile. He made quite a handsome living with a string of truck stops, having good native intelligence if nothing like Robert’s education. After a cautious meeting, they hit it off. Robert drove to Doug’s house in a small town 35 miles from the city on every possible occasion. Sometimes his stays lasted only a few hours, sometimes they were overnight, and sometimes for an entire weekend. They left both men fulfilled, in all senses of the term. Robert thought back on his last visit, and drifted into a reverie of remembrance…

* * *

“Robbie, are you ready to be my enema boy?” Doug asked. “Get those jeans down.” Robert removed his white button-down shirt and peeled his tight Levis off. He was wearing a jock underneath them rather than briefs. Sometimes he and Doug enjoyed that when they were playing, but this time Doug said. “The jock, too. You’re getting your enemas nekkid.”

Gesturing to his towel-covered lap, he said, “over here.” Robert wordlessly draped himself over Doug’s lap, spreading his legs so that one was between Doug’s legs and the other was over both of them. Doug told him, “raise your ass up a little. Let’s start by taking your temperature.”

Doug used an antique rectal thermometer, a full 5” long, with a pear-shaped bulb. He preferred it to the shorter infant thermometers that were all one could buy any more, if indeed one could find them. He knew that Robert would enjoy it more. The young man’s wonderful buttocks were already naturally spread by virtue of his position, but to emphasize his control, Doug deftly spread them further, placing his thumb and forefinger on either side of Rob’s hairless pink anus. He thrust the Vaseline-coated thermometer firmly and deeply into his “boy’s” rectum, giving it a twist as he did. Robert’s cock stiffened against Doug’s thigh, and he shifted himself to try to accommodate. Doug responded, “don’t squirm so. Do you want me to spank you?”

For the next five minutes, Doug rubbed the young man’s back, ran his fingers through Robert’s blond hair, and conversed softly with him about how the past week had gone for each of them. Occasionally he re-positioned or twisted the thermometer, causing an extra thrill to run through Robert’s body. It was a time of great relaxation and relief for both, as they let go of their cares. When the five minutes were up, Doug again spread the young man’s cheeks firmly apart and withdrew the thermometer, twirling it between his fingers as he did. “Normal,” he remarked as he read it, but observed a brown fleck of faeces on the instrument.

“Now let’s do a quick rectal exam.” Generously lubricating his rubber-gloved index and middle fingers, he inserted first one, then two, deeply into the boy’s rectum, palpating the prostate, and examining the first few inches carefully all the way around. Robert squirmed some more. “I warned you!” Doug removed his fingers from the moist, warm, cavity, and stripped off the glove. He proceeded to spank Robert lightly several times on both firm nates – not hard enough to really hurt, yet sufficiently to bring the bubble-butt’s color from natural alabaster paleness to a bright pink.

“It feels like you might be a bit impacted” Doug observed. “I’m going to give you a little oil to soften things up.” By perfect forethought, a syringe filled with eight ounces of warm olive oil just happened to be ready at hand. It had a six-inch long curved and fluted nozzle, with several holes on each side so that it sprayed it all around rather than squirted it straight in. Doug applied generous lubricant both to the young man’s anus and to the nozzle. The insertion was a protracted process, with plenty of twisting and gradual pumping of the syringe’s contents into Robert’s rectum, until the last ounce was emptied just as the nozzle was as deep inside as it could go. The syringe was withdrawn with equally slow and twisting motions, as the young man squirmed and curled his toes, abandoning all pretense of remaining still for fear of a spanking. Of course, it was all in play, and Doug was a full party to the “let’s pretend” aspect.

After administering the oil, Doug remarked, “I’m going to give you a plug to help you hold it.” In truth, Robert could have held it without the plug, but Doug knew it could only add to the eroticism of the session. “Get up now. Let’s go over to the bed. You can lie down and let that marinate for a few minutes while I prepare your first soapy enema.” Robert rose from Doug’s lap, as both he and Doug noted that the towel was damp with pre-cum and a string of it was dribbling from the young man’s semi-tumescent penis. They walked – Robert sort of waddling, as he felt the greasy plug stretching his rectum and its flange rubbing against the insides of his buttocks – over to a king size bed that was covered with a rubber sheet. Doug plumped three pillows and set them in the center of the bed. “Why don’t you lie face down and straddle these. That will help the oil go deeper into your rectum and colon. I’ll be back with the enema in a bit.”

Robert did as he was instructed. He placed one leg on one side of the pillows, the other on the opposite side, spreading them wide. His chest rested on the rubber sheet, and his face was pressed against it, turned to one side. His splendid bottom was raised high by the pillows under his hips, his plugged anus as exposed between the splayed buttocks as it could possibly he. He heard water running in the adjacent bathroom, and soon footsteps and the sound of an IV stand’s wheels being pushed toward the bedside.

He raised his head and saw Doug standing there, with a bulging red bag and a hose connected to a 9” long black nozzle that he and Doug had ordered from an Internet supplier. He said, “Oh, good – you’re using the big nozzle. I love that one.” Doug reached to remove the plug.