| Subject: Re: My Story part 14: the sneaky bulb |
Author:
AV
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Date Posted: Tuesday, July 22, 2025, 04:57: am
In reply to:
AV
's message, "My Story retold once more" on Thursday, June 05, 2025, 04:09: am
I was around 11-12 years old, I remember it was prior to me going into junior high, I was still fighting the urges, still pooping in my pants, and yes, still receiving enemas from mom. Eventually, she said to me, “if you want to go into junior high and still be pooping in your pants, go ahead.”
And soon after, she stops giving me enemas.
The strange thing was I felt like I could not have a BM without an enema.
One afternoon, I decided to do something.
I decided to sneak into the kitchen and find the enema bulb. I found it. It was inside a bottom cabinet sitting inside the mason jar.
But I had an issue, the cabinet made a popping and squeaking noise when open.
I had to be very very quiet about somehow opening that cabinet and simply putting my hand into the cabinet and feel for the jar so the cabinet would not squeak so much. I would reach in and put my hand inside the jar. To be honest, even as I write this, I can feel the rubber of that bulb. Another dilemma was I had to squeeze the bulb to get the bulb out of the jar. Oh my, my heart was racing. There I was touching the sacred enema bulb, squeezing the sacred enema bulb. I quickly as I could went to the bathroom with it. I had to make my own soapy water mix since I did not know mom’s. I had the bulb sitting on the floor and I figured I would lay across the top of the toilet and give myself the enema.
About that time, dad came to the door telling me it was an emergency, he had to go to the bathroom, to hurry.
I got scared and nervous. I quickly lifted the lid, flushed the toilet, washed my hands and left as if I used the bathroom.
As I walked out, dad quickly walked in.
I went into my room and waited for him to finish. As he came out, I waited a few minutes and walked back in. My jaw dropped. I forgot about the enema on the floor. I immediately thought, surely there was no way Dad could have missed it. He didn’t say anything though. I was done. Finished with the idea with giving myself an enema. My heart was racing even faster.
I squeezed the bulb into the sink and washed it. I now had to return it back into the squeaky cabinet which I successfully did.
Later, that evening, I did get that enema after my evening bath, but at the hands of mom. As I was taking my bath, she knocks in the door for me to unlock and open it. I quickly get out of the tub, unlock the door and jump back into the tub. Mom walks in and sits something on the sink counter, turns and leaves. I look. It’s the enema bulb and the filled mason jar. I decide to finish my bath and get out to dry off. As I am drying off, mom returns. She doesn’t say a word, she simply took my arm, lowered the toilet lid, and set down. I did not want my brothers to come in. I didn’t want this to be an enema struggle with me kicking and fighting. I don’t know if dad said anything, but It was just enema business as i went over her lap and received two good soapy enemas. Of course, I breathed and cried for her to hurry, “I gotta go! That’s enough! I gotta go!”
That was one of the last enemas I received from mom. Soon after I was back to sneaking the enema in during bath time. The only difference was I didn’t know mom’s solution mix and I had to make my own. I would sneak a disposable paper cup in with me to use as my mason jar.
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