(An illustrated version of this story is at https://sites.google.com/view/declisteribus)
--The morning sun shined through the window as the two boys slept. Grant and Brad were home from college on winter break. Their parents had gone to visit relatives and left the boys to fend for themselves. The Williamsons’ had a modest suburban house. The brothers had always shared a room. This spoke to their closeness, but it also allowed one room to be an exercise room which everyone in the family used and the other bedroom for their mother’s arts and crafts, as well as serving as a guest room.
“Yeah.” There was a pause. “It’s Saturday morning.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You really hated them, didn’t you?”
To an outside observer, one would not have a clue about the conversation. But for Grant and Brad, Saturday morning had taken on a very special meaning. It was the day the boys got their enemas. It had been going on most of their lives. In fact, if you were to ask any Williamson boy about Saturday morning, you would get a very similar response, it was enema day. No one really knew how many generations back it went, but everyone knew of the practice.
“Didn’t you hate them?” Brad, the younger brother, asked Grant.
“Initially, yeah, they were horrible.” He paused, “But then with time,” another pause, “I don’t know, maybe I got used to them.” Another pause, “I don’t know, something happened.” Yet, another pause, “I kind of came to like them.”
“I know, but, and I know this is weird too, but, as I got older, I started to get a hard on whenever he gave them to me.” Grant was referring to their father who was responsible for giving the boys their enemas.
“I know, I got them too. Dad would say, ‘Don’t worry most boys get erections, your brother does, too.’”
“He told you that?” Grant was a bit surprised.
“Yeah. I guess it was supposed to make me feel better.”
Grant and Brad were good friends not just brothers. Sure, growing up, they had had their sibling rivalry, sometimes with seemingly brutal knockdowns, but overall, they had each other’s back. Grant sat up on the edge of the bed.
“Can I share something with you?”
“Of course.” Brad not only admired his older brother, but he also loved him.
“They even, at times, felt kind of good.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Any observer in the Williamson house on Saturday morning would attest the Brad was not a fan of his enemas. It would start after his father told him it was time for his enema. Brad would start out trying to negotiate out of it. His father would insist. Brad would head to the bathroom and the volume would increase. What started out as conversation would crescendo to begging and pleading. It was not uncommon to hear from the closed bathroom door, “Take it out,” “I’m full, no more,” “Please stop, it hurts.”
Grant continued. “They would get me hard and then when it was your turn and I was back here alone and could hear you getting yours, I would jerk off.”
That comment, of course, caught Brad off guard. “Wow.”
Somewhat hesitantly, Grant continued, “And then I decided to try it out on my own.”
“Seriously? What do you mean?” Brad asked.
“When mom and dad would take you to practice, I would fill the bag and take one myself.”
“Yeah.” There was a pause.
“And?” Brad found himself more interested than maybe he felt he should have been.
“I don’t know. Maybe, I’m just anal erotic or something, but they felt good.”
“OK.” Brad had moved a bit on his side facing away from Grant. Grant noticed it. He had also noticed the developing bulge in Brad’s bed linens reflecting a growing erection.
“They don’t have to be horrible, and in fact they can be really enjoyable.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Brad responded. Despite his growing sexual arousal with their talk, Brad felt he needed to appear taken by surprise and disinterested. After a pause, he had to ask, “Like have you been giving yourself enemas?”
“Yeah.” Grant admitted, not sure he should have shared that.
“And like, you like them?” Brad was trying to understand what his brother was telling him.
Brad had to pause. His brother had just shared something pretty intimate. He loved his brother, so it was OK, but he was not sure how to proceed. At the same time, he had his own secret. While, yes, the enemas their dad gave him were really hard to take, they did give him erections, and he, like he just learned from his brother, had been curious about them. In fact, Grant’s bringing them up had gotten him hard, which was why he had positioned himself so it would not be too obvious. Grant broke the silence.
“Have you ever given yourself one?”
“Have you ever thought about doing it?”
“No.” Well, Brad actually lied. He had, but he did not think he could admit that to his brother.
“You know, they can feel good.” Grant was selling his point.
“Maybe, I guess.”
“I can see that since we’ve been talking about them, you’ve gotten hard.” Grant decided to go in for the kill.
“What?” Brad did not know what else to say. “Shut up.” He really did not mean it; he had been caught off guard and needed to redirect the conversation.
Grant got up and went over to sit on Brad’s bed. He reached to the bulge and gave it a slight rub and squeeze, “Mmmm, yeah, definitely hard.” This might have seemed weird, but the brothers were close enough that such play was not unusual.
“Stop.” Brad pushed Grant’s hand away. Sexual play together was not unknown to the boys. In the same room, living, sleeping, and dressing together brought them into close contact. How could it not, teenage boys with raging hormones? Grant and Brad had done the usual teen-boy games: measuring each other to see who was bigger, and of course, circle jerk, and even once they jerked each other off. And each had, on occasion, woken up in the middle of the night to hear that characteristic sound of the bed covers ruffling from a hand underneath giving pleasure, accompanied by some heavy breathing, and a final release. Out of respect, they just kept those encounters to themselves.
Putting his hand back on Brad’s crotch, Grant smiled, “Maybe you are interested?” Grant had a devilish smile on his face. Brad knew it well. Grant continued, “I bet I could show you how to enjoy your enema.”
“Don’t fight it. You know if dad were here, you wouldn’t have a choice.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not.”
Grant reached for Brad’s crotch again. Brad did not resist as much. Hesitantly he said, “So what, you want to give me an enema?”
Grant looked into Brad’s eyes with a smile on his face, “Yes.”
“You’re weird.” Brad broke off eye contact. He felt very conflicted.
Grant rubbed his brother’s bulge some more, “You know you want it, and I can guarantee you need it, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
Brad looked at his brother sitting there. Grant, too, now had an erection tenting his underpants. “You really are into them, aren’t you?”
“I just know they can feel really good, and well, I’d like to show you, not to mention help you get a load off.”
Being on break, neither boy had had any sexual gratification unless, of course, they had rubbed on out privately.
Brad closed his eyes. Grant could tell he had not ruled it out. Grant really wanted to give his brother the enema. He rubbed Brad a little more, “Come on Brad, just try it.”
“You always do this to me.” Grant did have a habit of getting Brad to do things, many times with great results and a few times with disastrous ones. Brad was definitely conflicted, but he was also horny. He sensed that Grant would not take no for an answer, and he had actually wanted to try it. So, he thought, it might as well be now. “OK,” he responded, “But you have to promise, if I tell you to stop, that you will stop it.” This had always been a sticking point getting enemas from their father. Grant regularly heard his little brother in the bathroom begging their dad to stop it.
“You need to take it all for it to work.” Grant said initially seriously, but being unable to hold that expression, started to smile. It was exactly what their father would say. Brad looked at him seriously only to see the smile come on Grant’s face, and know he was messing with him.
“I will, but trust me, you’ll want the whole bag.” Grant provided reassurance.
“You say that, but…”
“Trust me, I’ll make you a convert, though honestly, I’m thinking you may already be one.”
“Come on, let’s go.” He patted Brad on the butt and got up from the bed.
The boys headed to the bathroom in their usual sleep attire – undies, T, and sox. It was a trip they had made on many Saturday mornings. Grant was visibly more excited than Brad, though the tenting in Brad’s undies made it clear that he had interest.
In the bathroom, Grant went straight to work. He opened the vanity cabinet and got the enema bag, soap, and lube and turned on the hot water faucet. Brad eyed the enema bag and accessories and knew exactly what was going to happen. He was nervous. That said, he innately trusted his brother and if he were honest with himself, was also interested in trying the enema, though, this time, Grant-style. When their father gave him enemas, there was a coldness which only heightened the anxiety. Although he had gotten better at taking enemas, Brad always hated them and could usually be heard Saturday morning initially asking, but increasingly begging and sometimes, especially when younger, pleading not to have to take his enema. He learned that it did not matter. His father in a calm voice would tell him he was getting an enema and that he could take it the easy way or the hard way. There were times when he was particularly refusing that he got an OTK spanking in addition to the enema. One thing was for sure, in the Williamson house when you were told you were getting an enema, the best thing to do was to say, “Yes sir,” head to the bathroom, and strip.
The water had gotten hot and Grant turned the cold on and adjusted each to make the water very warm but not too hot. He reached for the enema bag, grasped the clamp, and shut it. The metallic sound was one both boys had engraved in their minds. He then held the mouth of the bag under the flowing water. Brad watched as the bag filled with water. Mid-way through, Grant pulled it from under the faucet and handed it to Brad, “Here, hold it while I add the soap.” Brad took the bag. He felt the warm rubber confirming that the water was very warm. He watched as Grant picked up the soap bottle and opened the top. Williamson boys always received hot, soapy enemas. Their father believed the soap was needed to clean them out, and the enemas were always very effective at doing that, sometimes with a lot of cramping, but always with healthy evacuations.
“Not too much.” Brad said. Grant paused and looked at his brother.
“You want a big boy enema, don’t you?” This struck a chord because it was a saying their dad had used when they were young, meant to help the boys accept their enemas without fussing. It was like guilting them into being good and making him proud. Grant opened the top and squeezed the soap bottle, letting the thick viscous soap flow into the bag.
“Stop.” Brad said nervous about the enema his brother was preparing for him. Grant was worried he went too far.
“I’m sorry, but seriously, lighten up. You know you need the soap in it for it to work. It’s not going to be bad. I promise. Plus, I told you if you tell me to stop it, I will.” Their father’s rule was, once the enema was started, the boys were expected to drain the bag no matter how full they felt or how much cramping they got. He felt it helped them build character and helped the boys learn that you cannot always have what you want. If they complained about cramping, his response was always the same, “That’s how you know it is a good enema.” Grant had gotten used to the cramps, even learned to like them; Brad on the other hand, really did not. Everyone in the house knew it from hearing Brad during his enemas.
Grant had another secret; one he was not ready to share with his brother. After his enema, he would chill in their room on his bed. This typically was a time when he would jerk off. He came to realize that hearing his brother’s begging, protesting, and even crying actually made him harder and heightened the orgasm he would experience while jerking off. He would relive his enema in his mind but also had fantasies of giving Brad one. Today, those fantasies were coming true.
Grant gently shook the partly full bag to disperse the soap and then put the mouth of the bag under the faucet to fill it up. As he did, a head of soapsuds rose to fill the bag’s mouth. Grant took the bag from under the faucet and shut the water off. He then moved over to the towel rack and hung the bag. It was mid-wall and the perfect height to administer an enema with the recipient on the bathroom floor. He put the hose and its nozzle in the bathtub for the time being, and then reached for a bath towel and placed it on the floor on top of the bathmat. Brad just watched; it was a well-rehearsed procedure repeated essentially every Saturday morning in the Williamson home. Both boys knew it well.
Brad started having second thoughts seeing the bulging bag. Grant knew his brother and knew he was having second thoughts. He approached Brad from behind and touched him on the shoulder, “Listen, I know you’re nervous. Trust me. We’ll go slowly. I’m going to make this good for you.” He let his hand move to Brad’s crotch. While not rock hard, Brad was still stiff. Grant rubbed him and said, “This is going to be good.” The reality was that, as nervous as he was, Brad wanted the enema. He had fought his enemas from his dad partly because they were pleasurable and caused erections, leading him to feel guilty and embarrassed. He would learn later on that this was a common feeling for boys, typically referred to as the ‘love-hate’ of the enema. You want it but are scared of it. On one hand it feels really good and on the other it can be uncomfortable, cramping and sometimes downright painful. It was the edge of agony and ecstasy. For boys who got hooked, many say there is nothing more sexually arousing and enjoyable than a big, hot, and soapy enema. Some even like and want the cramping that goes along with a soapy enema. It hurts so bad but feels so good. Grant had discovered this and now wanted to introduce Brad to it.
“Get undressed.” Grant gave the direction. Brad knew it was time. He took his T-shirt off. Grant watched as Brad pulled it up and over his head. This was not the first time he had seen Brad undress, but something was different this time. He looked at his little brother whose athletic body was very attractive. Brad played college lacrosse. His muscles were defined but not overly so. He had enough hair on his body to be attractive but not a bear. And the happy trail led right to the top of his briefs. Grant watched as Brad put his fingers in the waistband of his undies and pushed them down. They fell to the floor. He stepped out of them and put his undies and T on the hook on the back of the door as was the routine on enema day. He knew the procedure; their father had trained them well. Now, he stood in front of his brother and the bulging bag in only his short white sox. Grant adjusted his own basket which had gotten bigger as he watched his brother strip in front of him for his enema.
“You know the drill.” Grant said pointing to the towel on the floor. Brad got down on his knees. He crossed his arms in front of him and lowered his head and shoulders, ultimately resting his head on them. He moved his knees apart a bit. His butt was high in the air, and very exposed. From that position, he could look up at the bulging bag. He knew what was going to happen. He had a slight shiver go through his body as he felt the cool air on his exposed back, ass, and legs. He thought, “What the hell am I doing here?” He was naked in front of his brother about to let him fill him with a bag of hot, soapy water which would typically cause him to beg, moan, and plead. This time, he willingly waited for it to happen, and more importantly, wanted it to happen. His brother’s enthusiasm was evident. Grant moved facilely. Brad could see the well-defined outline of Grant’s rock-hard penis in his undies. Brad was beginning to recognize just how much Grant was into enemas.
Grant kneeled down behind Brad. He rubbed Brad’s back moving down to his buttocks. “You doing OK?”
“Yeah.” His brother responded from his knee-chest position.
“OK, I’m going to lube you first.” Brad knew the procedure but appreciated Grant telling him. He felt Grant spread his cheeks. Grant got a whiff of his brother’s boyhood and saw his cute, pink rosebud. It was like it was winking at him. He took the tube of lube and squeezed some on the Kleenex. He rolled his index finger in the lube to coat it well. It felt cool.
Brad responded, “Yes.”
Grant then touched his fingertip to his brother’s rosebud, “Bear down.” Even though Brad did, Grant felt the resistance of his brother’s tight sphincter. He pushed his finger more firmly overcoming the resistance and entering the rectum. Grant gently moved his finger all the way into his knuckle. He could hear his brother gasp. “Relax, you’re OK. I’m going to make this easy for you.” He spread the lube around but then let his finger come to rest on Brad’s prostate. As he gently massaged it, he reached under and took Brad’s cock in his hand and gently stroked it.
“Oooooh.” Brad let out a deep moan.
“It’s your prostate. They call this the passion muscle. You can see why.”
“God, that feels good.”
“I told you, I would make this enjoyable.” Grant took his finger out and reached for the nozzle. He spread the remaining lube on the nozzle and wiped his finger clean. He then aimed the nozzle into the tub and opened the clamp. There was a pause and then the water started to stream out of its tip into the tub. He shut the clamp, and then picked up the Kleenex with the lube and rolled the nozzle in it, evenly and generously coating the nozzle. “OK, are you ready for the nozzle?”
From his mouth buried in his arms, Grant could hear Brad say, “Yes.” Grant took one hand and rubbed his brother’s back, moving down to his buttocks, ultimately, spreading them more than they were to fully expose the target. With the nozzle in his other hand, he touched the large tulip shaped nozzle to Brad’s rosebud. Brad contracted. “Take some breathes, try to relax. Let it in.” Grant gently moved the nozzle around, and as Brad relaxed, he exerted increasing pressure until he was able to push the nozzle in. Brad’s tight hole grabbed it, sucked it in, and seated it inside the sphincter. Grant pushed and pulled it a bit to make sure it was secure, further eliciting a moan from Brad.
“You’re doing great.” Grant reached up and rubbed Brad’s back. “Still doing OK?”
“Are you ready for me to start it?”
“Yeah.” It was a response that signaled both resignation but with some anticipation.
“OK.” Grant reached for the metal clamp and opened it. The quietness of the room was broken by the dull metallic sound of the clamp, “CLICK.” It was a sound both boys had come to know very well. There was a pause, then a gurgle. Grant waited a bit and then asked, “Is it going in?”
“Yeah. I feel it.”
“OK, try to relax and let it fill you.” Grant gave his brother some encouragement. He rubbed his back. “You can do this.” He then reached under his brother to his cock and gently took hold of it and stroked it. Brad had gotten very hard again. With his other hand, Grant took hold of the nozzle and slowly pushed it in and then out a bit. As the nozzle rubbed over Brad’s prostate, Grant could hear soft moans, a different tone from the usual protests and fussing that Grant would hear while in his bedroom jerking off. Like those times, today’s scene, had gotten Grant excited. He took his hand from the nozzle and let it slide inside his own briefs taking his cock in his hand and slowly stroking it. He stroked both himself and his brother in unison. Both boys were very hard. Grant looked at the bag. It had delivered about half of the enema. He reached for the clamp and shut it off. The audible click broke the silence in the bathroom.
“Is it all in?” Brad looked up distracted from the nirvana of his brother’s edging him.
“You’ve taken about half. I want you to turn over on your back.” This was new to the procedure; not something their dad had done. Brad was not completely sure what his brother was doing. He was hesitant, but seeing Grant’s encouragement, he started to get up on his knees. Grant held the tubing. He enjoyed watching his brother’s athletic body as he pivoted and went onto his back. “Bend your knees.” Grant helped Brad position his feet flat and legs spread a bit. He reached for a towel and handed it to Brad, “Here, for your head.” Brad took it, folded it, and used it as a pillow. Brad laid there naked, knees bent, legs spread with an enema nozzle emerging from his crack and his dick pointing straight in the air.
“I’m going to start it, are you ready?” Brad nodded. Grant reached for the clamp and CLICK. The enema began again invading and filling Brad’s colon. As he laid flat, his muscular belly was starting to distend from the enema.
Grant reached up and gently rubbed Brad’s belly, “You’re going to look pregnant.” They both smiled at each other. From his kneeling position, Grant sat back on his heels. He looked up at the bag delivering its enema to his brother and let his hand go into the waistband of his briefs again to play with himself. He reached under Brad and moved the nozzle in and out a bit. “You doing OK? Cramping at all?”
“No. I’m OK. This does feel good.”
“See, I told you so. Just relax and enjoy it.” Grant was not finished making Brad’s enema the best. He took his hand out of his underpants and took hold of Brad’s cock and gently stroked it. Brad moaned. He closed his eyes as if in ecstasy. It felt really good. He would never have thought an enema could feel so good and what was more, was that it was his own brother giving it to him. He was also surprised how comfortable he was with his brother edging and jerking him off.
As he laid there, eyes closed, taking in the feeling, Brad began to experience something even better. It was a feeling of warmth. He figured the enema had just worked its way up higher in him but when he opened his eyes and looked, he could not believe it. Grant had taken his cock in his mouth and was sucking him off. It was an amazing feeling. Grant licked and sucked Brad’s cock. He alternatively would lick it and then take the whole thing in his mouth. Brad had never had a blow job but now understood why they were so coveted. The feelings were overwhelming. He had a nozzle in his ass, an enema filling his colon, and his big brother giving him a blow job.
Grant looked up and smiled. He eyed the enema bag which was just about flat. He stroked Brad. Then both boys heard the gurgle signaling the emptying of the bag. Grant reached without losing a step and closed the clamp. He reached up to Brad’s pregnant belly and gently rubbed it. He took his mouth off of Brad’s cock and moved his hand up the shaft and began to stroke his brother. Grant seemed very skilled. Brad was close to the point of no return. Grant could tell. He focused on stroking Brad. He could tell by the tensing and relaxing of Brad’s muscles, the guttural moans, and the hip thrusts that Brad was getting closer to orgasm.
“Let yourself go. Cum for me Brad.” Grant said in a soft voice. “Cum,” he repeated. He stroked Brad with more determination. Brad closed his eyes. He was overcome by so many emotions and physical feelings. He continued to thrust. It was like waiting for the volcano to erupt. Grant reached under him and moved the nozzle in and out helping the eruption to begin.
“Oh, oh, oh.” Brad grunted. He arched his back a bit lifting himself off the ground pushing his feet down, “I’m going to cum.” His breathing picked up.
“Let it happen” Grant encouraged. “Cum for me.”
And he did. There was a final guttural moan and then the first shot came hitting Brad in the face. Subsequent streams of jism hit his neck, chest, and belly. His body was anointed by threads and globs of white milky ejaculate. Small beads of sweat were also clearly present. Brad grunted, beathing heavy until he relaxed and fell back to the floor panting as he did. A smile came to his face which was met by a similar smile on his older brother’s face.
“Oh my God, that was amazing.” The words came out through his labored breathing. Grant sat there with a contented smile rubbing his brother’s inner thigh.
“Good job. I told you I would make it worth your while.” Grant reached up and got some Kleenex and gave it to his brother to clean up the mess he had made. “You look cute in cum.”
“Right, thanks” He started to wipe up his mess, looking at it in the Kleenex as he did. Grant helped wipe up the load on his brother’s belly. They threw the tissues in the toilet.
“You doing OK holding the enema?”
“Yeah, but it is starting to want to come out.”
“Try to hold it if you can.”
“Yeah, No. It’s wants out.”
“OK, let me take the nozzle out.” Grant reached and started to pull on the nozzle which slipped out. He put it in the tub. Brad got up and placed himself on the toilet, bending slightly forward resting his forearms on his thighs. He made a bit of a facial grimace and then it happened. The torrent of enema water and shit started to come out. There were some pauses but a lot came out. Gant got up from the floor and sat on the tub edge across from his brother. Both boys new how enemas affected them. They both had been on the toilet before. Their father believed in a good clean-out. If the first enema did not give the desired results the boys knew they would be back down on the floor on their knees and elbows with a second bag of hot, soapy water filling them up. This experience for Brad was different. Yes, it definitely was cleaning him out, but it was aimed at showing him a different side of enemas, one that Grant had experienced.
“You doing OK?” Grant asked.
“Yeah, typical enema. I’m shitting my guts out.” They both chuckled sharing in the experience.
“Doesn’t help that you eat all that junk food.” Grant added.
“Shut up, you eat as much junk as I do. Maybe you need an enema too.” Brad raised his head to look straight into Grant’s eyes. Both boys smiled signaling a new facet of their relationship. Brad had experienced the world of erotic enemas, and now the brothers had the weekend ahead of them, home alone.