Create a New Forum Admin Login Member Login Contribute to Voyager Search VoyForums Help Desk VoyForums Exchange VoyForums Directory/Categories VoyForums Homepage VoyForums News FAQ - Frequently Asked Questions

[ Show ]

Support VoyForums

[ Shrink ]

VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2 ]

Subject: Re: greatest fear Author: Ben [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: Sunday, August 16, 2015, 09:17: am In reply to: Nick 's message, "greatest fear" on Saturday, November 08, 2014, 05:39: pm i didn't mind the enemas, what bothered me was hearing my mom on the phone saying "yes well I had to give Ben another enema today, yes he was constipated" the conversation would go on and on. If mom was talking to our neighbor the next day at school her kids would be talking about my enema and all of my friends would know. My only hope was that they too would fall victim to the enema bag! Which sooner or later would happen. Mom talked about giving us enemas like t was nothing and that was my greatest fear. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[> [> Subject: Re: greatest fear Author: John [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: Sunday, August 30, 2015, 12:09: pm hearing the drawer in the bathroom where only the enema bag was kept was my greatest fear. Home from school for 3 days sick my senior year I was restlessly sleeping with a fever and the flu. It was between thanksgiving and Christmas. I was constipated and miserable. Throwing up about every hour. Mom was giving me milk of magnesia but I still didn't poop. I knew I was going to need an enema and wanted relief but was dreading it at the same time. It felt like I had a log in my butt and when I threw up my stomach hurt. I had gas and was farting a lot. It was a bad case of the flu. Mom took my temperature in my butt thinking it would help me poop. My fever was 102 and just after mom took my temperature she went into the bathroom and I heard her open "the drawer". A minute later I heard the water running and I knew it was enema time. Mom came into my room and gently touched my shoulder and said "honey you are so miserable and I want to help you get better, come into the bathroom ....I have a little enema ready for you"....well there was nothing little about moms enemas, the bag was full of warm soapy water and she was going to make sure I took every drop. I slowly got out of bed and followed her to the bathroom where I saw the bulging red bag hanging from the towel rack in the tub. I dropped my boxers on the floor and assumed the position in the tub that I knew all too well. Without a word mom was sitting on the edge of the tub and inserted the nozzle in my rear end. I clenched my teeth and waited for the click and the enema was in progress. I could feel the pressure of the warm soapy water as mom held the nozzle in place. She gave it slowly and every minute or so would clamp the hose shut and give me a break. I looked over my shoulder and could see the bag emptying into me. Finally the bag was empty and I was full, mom withdrew the nozzle and told me to hold it for a few minutes. As she refilled the bag for enema 2 because one was just to get warmed up I got up and expelled what seemed to be gallons of water. Very little poop came out... A few round hard marble sized turds, I knew it was going to be a long morning. 4 enemas later I was back in bed and cleaned out. I was actually feeling better, but still had a few and was throwing up but less frequently. My younger brother came home from school and saw the enema bag hanging from the towel rack and asked me how many enemas mom gave me. When I said 4 he shook his head and said he was sorry I was so sick. He knew how I felt because the flu had hit him first a few days after thanksgiving and he needed the same TLC from mom and she gave him enemas on a Saturday morning and I was home and heard the whole thing from the family room. Dad was playing golf (we lived in South Carolina) so he wasn't aware of the enema marathon going on with Timmy. Poor Timmy was throwing up between enemas and I felt so bad for him. Then the little shit gave me his bug and I was just as miserable. My enema day was Friday some had the weekend to recuperate more but mom gave me 2 more enemas on Saturday morning and one on Sunday night before bed. The bug was going through our school and my best friend Jason was sick the same time I was. I asked him how many enemas he got and he said 5. I high fived him and said I beat you. I got 7. We both had a good laugh and we're glad to be back in school. [ Post a Reply to This Message ]