George lay on his back with his knees pulled up to his chest, fully exposing all his "sensitive spots" to his wife's skilled hands. It was Linda's favorite position to put him for a "real clean-out" and she made sure that he got one every weekend. Single enemas were for sissies, she told him often enough. Real men could take and hold volumes of warm suds.

"This is the last enema tonight" she said, pushing the greased colon tube higher. "And after your exercise I will make sure you have a really good ejaculation."

George sighed. He did not look forward to the exercise that "took all the tension out of a body" while holding a large enema. Usually Linda had him walk the treadmill for a mile before she let him use the toilet. On the other hand, when she said "really good ejaculation" it was sometimes anyway he wanted it. And all day he had planned what he wanted from her. The earlier ejaculation that she brought on with her slippery hands while massaging him between the first and second enemas reduced his urgency so that he could slowly enjoy the last one, the strong one, the ejaculation he wanted so badly. The earlier one happened hours ago.

George lay enormously bloated with three quarts of water and a large butt plug securely fixed with adhesive tape strapping it tightly between his rear cheeks. Linda did not allow accidents and she always made sure he got his exercise. She helped him up from the bed. He stood in front of the full length mirror, the first thing she asked him to install when they moved into the house. She said she liked the way he looked full, when he lolled and moved like a pregnant woman.

Linda took him by the penis and led him to the large room that had once been a garage but now held exercise equipment and other devices such as the massage table in the center of the room. George moved toward the machine to walk off his mile. He hoped it was only a mile. Linda was often vague about actual distance and sometimes set the meter for a longer walk and a more rapid pace than George would ever have chosen for himself. Of course if he were choosing for himself, he would have stopped the enemas after the second one. He thought two were plenty and Linda considered two to be the warm-up for the "really deep ones" that she insisted were necessary.

"No, George," Linda said firmly. "It is a beautiful night. I want you to exercise in the backyard." George moaned again. Loudly. But Linda unlatched the glass doors, and firmly gripping his penis, led him into the darkness.

It was a large backyard for an old suburban neighborhood of prim brick houses. The previous tenant had installed a solid fence that stood an even five feet high around the perimeter. That fence had been another reason Linda wanted that particular house. "I can give you enemas in the backyard after dark." she told him.

"No," George had insisted. "Neighbors can see over the fence."

But they bought that house anyway and last summer, about midnight, Linda took him into the yard several times for one of the enemas in the series that happened every Saturday night. It was a quiet neighborhood, mostly retired people, and that had been another buying point. George hated noise.

Linda walked along the fence, touching it with one hand to guide her in the star-strewn darkness while her other hand held George's penis, gently but firmly, to lead him along for his exercise. He walked spraddle-legged, in a half-crouch, the enema sloshing and churning throughout his mid section, his rectum packed and stretched and burning.

Where the fence went behind the lugstrum bushes, Linda became aware of a faint yellow porch-light which George did not see with his head down. Linda gripped his penis tighter and spoke to someone in the next yard.

"Mrs. McKelvey," Linda said, "imagine meeting you in the middle of the night."

"Why, hello Linda and George. It is just such a lovely night tonight, the first really warm night we've had. I love summer evenings. And I could not sleep, the complaint of every widow." Her voice was soft and whispery, a really old woman, George recalled. He had only spoken to her a few times.

"Yes, I love summer too," said Linda. "And I thought George needed some exercise before going to bed. He has had a rough work week."

George nodded toward the elderly woman and tried to remove Linda‘s hand from his penis but she only gripped tighter and let him feel her fingernails. He knew that she would never release him. He sagged against the fence. The enema pressure seemed to double. Without realizing it George moaned again.

"Oh, my," said Mrs., McKelvey, "George seems to be in some distress."

"Yes," Linda agreed. "I am about to take him into the house, put him on the toilet, give him a shower, and put him to bed."

George did not think Mrs. McKelvey needed to know all of this, especially the part about being "put on the toilet."

Mrs. McKelvey leaned close to Linda and whispered something. George caught the word, "enema," and almost cried out.

"Yes," said Linda. "Every Saturday night, a total cleanout."

"Does a man so much good," said Mrs. McKelvey. "I used to give my husband a series once a week too. He really needed it too. Nothing works on a man's system like enemas."

"Every man needs it, I suspect," replied Linda. "But most women don't know it and the man is never going to tell her."

George attempted to pick up his wife so he could carry her away but instantly realized that his body would support no such effort.

"I am so glad to see that you know how to take care of your man," said the elderly woman. "I have lots and lots of recipes. Tell me, dear, have you tried the black-strap molasses mix? Or corn starch?"

"Why, no, Mrs. McKelvey, but I would love to have the recipes."

George could stand it no longer and did not stifle the loud moan. "I really have to go in. NOW." He insisted. "Good night Mrs. McKelvey," he said in his best non-nonsense voice and took Linda‘s hand in his, to twist it behind her back if necessary.

"Run along children," the widow waved them off.

"I'll call you in the morning, for the recipes," Linda called over her shoulder as they walked quickly toward their back door. To George in a quieter voice she said, "I am going to punish you for this. I will give you an ever more thorough cleanout in the morning."

End