Forced Suppository

I’d say that all of my childhood suppositories were forced up my butt against my will. My mother used glycerin suppositories to treat real and suspected cases of constipation while I was growing up. She’d announce that I needed a suppository and all hell would break loose. I would cry, plead with, and beg her not to give me a suppository, to no avail. She’d retrieve the glass jar of suppositories for infants and children (the long, skinny type) from the bathroom medicine cabinet, close the toilet lid, sit on the closed seat, and pull me over her lap. Down came my panties and my butt cheeks were spread open so she could visualize the target: my poor little rosebud. She would unscrew the lid, retrieve a suppository, and insert it full length as far up inside my bottom as possible. I only remember her following the directions once when she slowly inserted and withdrew the suppository repeatedly to stimulate a BM. (My mother never was one to read and/or follow directions.) I think she stuck with full insertion because she believed doing so inflicted the most damage. After full insertion (during which I cried and howled), she pulled up my panties to remind me that the suppository had better stay put unless I wanted another. Those suppositories felt like they had been dipped in Tabasco sauce. As soon as my panties were pulled up, I began telling my mother that I needed to poop right now. When I actually felt a strong urge to poop 10 to 15 minutes later, I began begging in earnest to use the toilet. My mother would make me sit at the kitchen table so she could keep an eye on me and prevent me from reaching the toilet. On more than one occasion, I made a break for it and ran towards our only bathroom. My mother always got there first and sat on the still-closed toilet lid to prevent me from using the toilet. Then she would pick me up in her arms and bounce me on her hip, increasing my torment. For another half-hour or so, my mother would not allow me to use the toilet regardless of how much I cried or how often I told her I was going to poop my panties. She would tell me it was “too soon” and that if I pushed out the mostly melted suppository, another would immediately be inserted to take its place. So I don’t recall ever having an accident. But I do remember the awfully painful cramps and how I sweated and shook while retaining those suppositories. I never felt like the torture of receiving a suppository was ever paid off by the relief I felt expelling its remnants. I always felt humiliated beyond belief, betrayed by the person who was supposed to love me, and hotly angry after each and every suppository ordeal.

@Iris1858

Thank you for this full confession which explains well why now, long after that tormented youth, you are among us.

@Iris1858 Suppositories that felt like they'd been dipped in Tabasco huh? I just about guarantee there will be someone here who would really like a Tabasco dipped suppository & no it's not me! 😈

Iris !! - for sure not the best memories of your growing up time, i would mean !! - all the best wishes for nowadays to you and also for liquidsky !!

@Iris1858 Suppositories that felt like they'd been dipped in Tabasco huh? I just about guarantee there will be someone here who would really like a Tabasco dipped suppository & no it's not me! 😈

- i would be very interested, whom do you mean !! - tabasco is for sure a good condiment - but in another context !!