My first expereince of getting REALLY constipated was when I was 19. I went to work away from home during a study vacation (on a gold mine). The hostel food was more than OK, but the reduction works where I was stationed was hot as hell and dry with it. Tea, taken morning and afternoon was not going to hack it for liquid intake - and nothing more was available (couldn't drink the tap water in the plant). Also the journey there had been more than traumatic, with my ancient car running a bearing so I had to complete the trip by train.
Well, my colon went into spasm. I didn't shit for two weeks. I felt no discomfort; but after taking a heroic dose of laxative on day 9 with no result at all (not even gripes) I began to get increasingly worried. The mine was far from the nearest clinic or doctor. On day 14, I began to feel a stirring in the depths and shot into the nearest toilet in great hope. With huge effort I heaved and strained for almost half an hour, by which time my arsehole had stretched to over 3 inches diameter and was very sore. I could feel in the open hole, a flat, rock hard surface, but I couldn't get anything out. The log that was in there was thicker! You must undertand that there were no scubala (no shit balls) at all - just one continuous and very hard mass. I wasn't squeamish, but I couldn't get a finger in to hook anything out at all. That felt really scary and I decided to abandon the effort while I thought of ways to get rid of it. That was easier said than done, though. The shit was so tightly wedged in the constriction of my anus that it wouldn't go back inside me by itself either. I tried standing up, but that was almost impossible with the huge thing wedging my arse cheeks apart. I had to give it a sustained and painful shove! Finally, I got my poor arsehole closed again, all raw and swollen.
I was on my own, facing a problem I couldn't share (I was just an apprentice - imagine the ribbing?). So I took a tea spoon from the canteen and waited fearfully. In a few hours, my rectum began to do its thing again, and again I had to go through the agony of stretching my sphincters until the mass of shit was present within the skin of my anus, now tight and sore. I tried to slip the tea spoon up along the side of the shit: no go - too sore. So I begain to dig into the hard surface of the log with the spoon, carving off what I could get at (which wasn't too near the edges - again too painful). It was slow work, and my arsehole began to sthrob painfully as I dug away. I suppose I got about an inch into the mass before I had to give up and push it back in. THAT HURT!
Later I had another go, and was encouraged when the edges of the shit mass where I had dug earlier caved in, crumbling and coming away. Again I dug, and again mined another inch out of me. How much of this thing was there? I had no idea. It was then that I hit on the idea of an enema. I was alreay hooked on enemas; but I had no gear with me at all. What to do? The bathrooms in that all male place were communal - the baths all out in one big space. I waited until everyone else was in bed, and then turned on the cold water, got into a bath and scooted my bum up and under the cold tap (faucet), pressing my anus against it until the water was forced into me. To my great relief, it did go in (I was scared it wouldn't get around the turd!) but with every second my anxiety about getting caught was rising while the water flowed into me. When I had taken as much as I could hold, I ran stark naked into the nearest stall and shut the door. I still had my trusty tea spoon! Once more the awful stretching had to be undertaken, but at least the water now lubricated the passage of the turd. Again the rim of my "turd mine" collapsed under the pressure; and then, ever so slowly, the whole mass of shit began to come out. I guess the repeated stretching had finally got my hole big enough to let the monster out. It was a good 7 inches long, and on its side I could clearly see how each day's shit had been compressed into a sort of biscuit (cookie) and stuck fast to the ones before it and after it. The enema still had to come out, though; the shit had completely plugged it inside me!
As I said, it was a COLD enema perforce - no mixer taps in a cheap hostel! So the gripes were intense and the following emptying of my colon (remember the failed laxative?) was thorough. The toilet pan began to fill up alarmingly. When I was through, my anus was on fire. I didn't dare flush, as the huge turd had no hope of getting round the bend. There was nothing for it but to plunge my hand and the tea spoon into the revolting (and really stinky) mess and break the thing up. EEEeeewww!
The sequel was my first acquaintance with piles - and it lasted for another two weeks. Now you know how it feels to be constipated. But afterwards, and for many years, I have sought to relive the experience. That what being a crazy anl erotic is all about!
Johnny