Alan’s first few weeks of classes were pretty stressful. He has smart, perhaps a bit of a geek, but he had a tough schedule and was getting worn down already. Meals at the dining hall were pretty bleak. Every vegetable was either wilted and slimy if it was at the “fresh“ salad bar, or if cooked, overdone to the point were it fell apart if he even tried take a portion to put onto his plate. Consequently he was subsisting mostly on burgers, fries and pizza. His mother had warned him about this kind of diet and that he would have to make an effort to make nutritious choices and she was always telling him which foods had the fiber that he needed. More and more often he was feeling bloated and sluggish and though he knew what was happening to him, he found the foods he should be eating unpalatable the way they were offered.

He had made a few friends from his physics class, but they were all pretty busy and rarely hung out together. In his dormitory, he found his roommate to be a jerk as he had expected. The only other person he spoke to in the building was Sarah. The would often wind up riding the elevator together. She would always say hi to him and smile and ask him how classes were going and so on. She was doing clinical rotations, so she usually had scrubs on and Alan often could see her stethoscope sticking up out of her bag. He liked it best when the elevator was crowded and he was in the back behind her, admiring her hair and her shape.

Things got worse for him quickly and before September ended, he found himself feeling so unwell with stomach cramps and bloating on a Saturday afternoon, he felt he had no choice but to go to the student health center. It was staffed by one nurse practitioner who seemed to be about 60 he thought. He looked at her photo ID badge — Janet Stockton, APRN. The photo looked like it was 15 years old. She looked much younger in it, but had a scowl of an expression on her face. She checked him in and then took him back to a cubicle. She never cracked a smile nor seemed to be the least bit concerned with his complaints. She took his vitals and then told him to undress from the waist up and gave him a gown to put on. When she returned, she had him lay on his back on the small bed and she had him undo the button and fly on his jeans. She proceeded to do a heavy handed abdominal exam and Alan grunted and winced when she pressed along his his lower abdomen below the waist band of his underwear. “When was your last bowel movement,” she asked without even looking up at him.

Alan hesitated until she stopped moving her hands and looked up at him with an emotionless stare.

“Three days ago,” he finally admitted.

”No surprise there, you are FOS, I can feel it in your belly.”

Alan had not heard the term before, “What’s FOS?”

”Full of stool. That’s putting it politely,” she answered with her back to him as she squirted some hand sanitizer on her boney hands. Alan kept noticing her fingers where bulbously deformed at each knuckle from arthritis.

”Get dressed and then come out front for your prescription,” she muttered as she walked out of the exam cubicle.

Alan got dressed and headed out front. He was embarrassed at her conclusion, but he really was not surprised as he had known what was wrong all along but had been in denial. A sheet of paper came off the printer and she signed it and handed it to him without looking up. “Fill it today and take it. The sooner the better.”

He thanked her and quickly walked out.

He walked to the pharmacy right off campus, but had to stop a couple of times when his stomach cramps surged. When he handed the script to the woman at the pharmacy counter, she looked at it and told him he did not need a prescription for it, that it was just magnesium citrate and was down the third aisle on the right hand side. He walked off and found it and brought two bottles back up to the counter. He payed for it with his credit card, and walked out quickly, hoping to limit to two the number of women who would know that he was constipated.

He got back to his dorm and fortunately his roommate was out. He took out a bottle of the magnesium citrate and more or less guzzled it in it’s entirety. He then tried to get some studying done, certain that relief would be coming soon.

After several hours, his cramps picked up in frequency and were accompanied by an urge to poop. He was happy to be feeling this, but when he went out to the communal bathroom, on of the other guys from his suite was taking a shower. He turned back to his room and waited. The urge to go and the cramps both soon faded. When the bathroom was finally free, he went in and tried to have a BM, but after straining for 10 minutes, nothing happened. Not good, he thought to himself. He went to bed and slept ok, but woke early the next morning with intense wrenching cramps. He tried to go again, but failed once more. He was a bit panicked now and though he dreaded it, he felt he had no choice but to return to the student health center.

It took him a while to get there this time as he had to walk slowly and rest often. When he arrived and walked in, Nurse Stockton was at the the one at the desk much to his chagrin. She looked up briefly at him from her game of solitaire on her computer and said, “You must be here to report your success and to thank me.”

”Um, no…. it didn’t work. I feel worse.”

She looked up surprised, “It always works.“

He described the sequence of events to her. She sighed and shook her head.

”Well that’s what happens when you don’t heed the call. When you feel like you need to go, you better go then and there. Come on back.”

She got up and led him back to the same cubicle. She gave him a gown but this time told him to take everything off. He was hoping for a different prescription, but now he knew he was likely to get more than he bargained for. He undressed and got the gown on, wrapped it all around him and sat down on the bed and waited. He could hear her outside opening some cabinets. She came back and put two small foil packets on the table next to the bed.

“I‘m going to give you some suppositories. It’s the best option at this point.“

It had been years since Alan had had a suppository and it did not seem like a fitting way to be making the transition to adulthood. He felt scared. It had been so long, he was not sure what to expect. He could only remember that he did not like the experience the last time. He watched as the nurse pulled two blue gloves from the box near the sink and saw that they fit her rather tightly. Once they were on, he could see her swollen knobby knuckles bulging through the bright blue glove fingers and it immediately reminded him of a sex toy he had seen online — one that was for anal use.

“Lay down and turn onto your side and bring your knees up.”

He did as he was told. She came around behind him and he could hear her peeling open the foil packets.

“OK, in case you haven’t had these before, they are medicine to make you go and they are shaped in slippery little bullets. I am going to put two of them up your bottom with my finger. “

She pulled away the gown and exposed Alan’s skinny pale hairless bottom. He felt the coldness and then her hand on his butt. She pulled his upper cheek up and he squinted his eyes shut tightly at the thought of her seeing him back there so exposed. He next felt the tip of the suppository touch his anus and it was not so bad. She then told him to bear down and when he started to do that, he found himself gasping as her finger pushed into him. He could feel the two big knuckles of her index finger pop through the tight ring of his anus one right after the other.

“Relax, I am going to keep my finger in for a minute to make sure it stays where it needs to be.“

Her finger stayed in his rectum at full depth for only 20 seconds, but it seemed like much longer. It’s presence made him feel like he needed to poop urgently and he was about to tell her he needed to get to the bathroom when she finally started to withdraw it. He felt the two knuckles pop back out as she removed her fingers and he worried that he was actually pooping when he felt this. He almost caught his breath and regained some composure when she announced that the second one was coming and he audibly gasped as the bumpy finger penetrated him once more, but a bit more quickly and roughly this time. He was holding his breath waiting for her to take her finger out of him until she noticed and told him to breathe. He then felt her slick finger slide out for good. She then held his buttocks together with her hands and said, “Tell me when you no longer feel the urge to expel the suppositories.”

The need to expel didn’t really go away, but it lessened in a few minutes and he was eager to end the humiliation of her squeezing his bottom, so he told her it was gone. She let go and pulled the sheet up over him.

“Lay here until you feel like you really need to go. The bathroom is around the corner to the left. You’re not leaving until you poop,” and with that, she walked out.

The suppositories surprised him at how quickly they took effect. He felt burning in his anus and rectum and more and more cramps below his navel. It was quickly more than he could take and he jumped up and walked as quickly as he could to the bathroom. His bowel movement was a relief, but also a painful ordeal with cramping and a near constant urge to push and strain. The worst was the pain of the hard stool exiting him and his anus burned and throbbed when he was finally finished and gingerly wiped himself with the unpleasantly rough coarse institutional toilet tissue.

When he emerged, Nurse Stockton was there waiting for him. “Sounds like it was a success,” she said. The hard tile interior of the bathroom and the wide gap between the floor and the bottom of the door allowed the sounds of Alan’s ordeal to confirm to her that she had succeeded. She felt a smug satisfaction that her knowledge and ministrations had enabled her to get this young man’s body to yield to her will. She knew he was quite embarrassed and she relished the fact that he had needed to poop and he couldn’t, and that he needed her to help him to be able to.