My Aunt Edna

Rate this story... Really bad | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Fantastic (currently 2.7 out of 5)

My Aunt Edna

2008-05-17 17:49:24

It was a hot day, and even though I was dressed in just my playsuit---no shoes, not even underpants---and even though I was playing with my cars and trucks in the shade of the big chestnut tree, I felt quite warm. I felt trickles of sweat on the back of my neck, and the pants of my playsuit stuck to my behind when I stood up. I wished I could go swimming, but my Aunt Edna had told me as I ate my lunch that I was to stay in the yard where she could keep an eye on me, and it didn't do to disobey her. Every now and then I glanced up at the house, and once I saw her looking at me. It made it hard to concentrate on my play. This was because of the way she had looked at me at lunch. I knew that look. It had given me a funny feeling in my stomach, I knew that before the day was over I would be given an enema.

I knew some other boys who got enemas too, but that was usually when they were sick or couldn't go. Aunt Edna gave me enemas then, too, but she also gave me enemas for no reason at all, or so it seemed to me. She had given me a big enema the first night I came to live with her, two years ago. She said it was because I had been on a long trip and needed to be cleaned out. My mother had given me enemas too, but not very often, and her enemas were much nicer than Aunt Edna's. I wished I could go back to living with her. No one ever told me why I couldn't, and after a while I had stopped asking. I didn't remember ever having a father. I was on my hands and knees playing with my fire engine when I heard the upstairs window open. I stopped and listened.

"Billy! Come up now!"

I looked up. She was leaning out the window, the one in her bedroom. She crooked her finger at me. I felt a rumble in my tummy, and a shiver went down my back. It was going to happen. There was nothing I could do. "I'm coming, Auntie," I said, standing up and brushing the grass off my hands. My playsuit was caught in my behind, and I pulled it free. It felt cool on my behind, like when you had to take your pants down. I walked slowly toward the house, my heart beating faster and faster the nearer I got. I went in the door and climbed the stairs slowly.

No matter how many times I'd had enemas, I never got used to them. I went down the hall to her room and toward my doom. She was standing in the doorway, one hand on her hip, a suggestion of a smile on her face. She was a big woman in every way: She had big features and big hands and feet, and she was tall. I always felt even smaller than I was when I stood before her. She took me by the hand and led me into the room. Then I saw it, on the table next to the bathroom door: the red bulb syringe, adult size, the basin which I knew by the steam rising from it was full of warm, soapy water, the tumbler with the stubby thermometer in it, the open jar of Vaseline, the roll of toilet paper, and the hairbrush.

She sat down on a straightbacked chair next to the table and drew me between her ample thighs. Then she undressed me. It was easy. She just eased my arms out of the short sleeves, flipped open the buttons at my waist, and down fell my playsuit to my ankles. I stepped out of it and handed it to her, then stood before her, naked. She folded my playsuit and put it on the table next the enema equipment, then looked me up and down. Especially down. I knew without looking that my little thing was sticking out. I didn't know why it did that. I always told it not to, but it did anyway. She took my chin in her thumb and forefinger and made me meet her gaze. "Do you have to tinkle, Billy, or are you thinking naughty thoughts?" she asked me, stroking my thigh with her other hand. "Hmm? Answer me. Do you have to tinkle?"


"Then you must I thinking dirty thoughts," she said, still stroking my thigh. "Are you?

"No." She gave me a stinging slap that landed half on my thigh, half on my behind.

"Don't lie to me," she said.

"I'm not lying, honest, Auntie Edna." I felt her hand on my leg again, in back, near my behind.

"Then perhaps you're a little boy who likes my enemas? Is that it?"

"No." I felt my face get hot, and knew it was red. Embarrassing questions like that always made me blush. And I saw her look down at my thing again.

"Well, I'm afraid we're going to have to do something about this.". And, as I knew she would, she drew me down over her broad lap. There was a dictionary on the floor which she nudged into position by her right leg, then placed her foot on it, raising her knee so that my bottom stuck up in the air. My thing was right on her leg. I felt her pull my left leg toward her so my bottom was opened up.

"So, are you a little boy who likes my enemas?" Her hand was now on my bottom, gently caressing it. "Hmm? Answer me."


A sharp smack on my behind sent a wave of fire through me.

"No, what?"

"No, Auntie Edna."

"That's better." She continued gently rubbing my behind.. I could feel my thing moving on her bony knee.. I knew she could feel it. She gave a sigh, and said, "I am afraid you are one little boy needs to be put into the proper frame of mind for his enema."

"No, please not, Auntie Edna!"

"Pleading will get you nowhere."

I knew that. She didn't have to say it. She picked up the broad hairbrush with the smooth ivory back and laid it across the crests of my buttocks. It felt cool on my behind. She rubbed it back and forth a few times, then round and round in circles. Suddenly she raised it and brought it down sharply. I let out a cry and fluttered my legs. She tapped my bottom a few times , watching it wiggle like Jell-O, then surprised me with another smack. I cried out again.

Now she set out methodically coloring my behind., first one cheek, then the other, then the places that were still pale. By the time both cheeks were rosy I was of course crying lustily and my legs were kicking wildly. She stopped, put down the hairbrush, and placed the back of her hand on my behind..

"Oh, it's so warm! Nothing like a warm behind to put a boy in the proper mood for his enema, that's what I always say." Yes, I thought, that is what she always says. And I knew what was coming next.

"Well," she said, "suppose we'd better check your internal temperature, hadn't we.."

I felt her shaking down the thermometer, and knew she was dipping it into the Vaseline jar and now I felt her parting the cheeks of my behind and felt her eyes looking right down into the most secret place in my body, just staring at my orifice, taking aim.

Then the cold tip of the thermometer touched my spot and I felt her twist it around to spread the Vaseline, and then it slipped into me. It was embarrassing to have my temperature taken that way. I was getting to be a big boy, after all. None of my friends had it taken in their behinds anymore. I was old enough to have it put under my tongue. Why did she treat me like a baby?

Still, I had to admit that I liked the feeling of that little rod being poked into my bottom, and liked it when she pushed it in and out., and twisted it inside me. It made me feel very funny, and I could feel my little man get stiff again, because being spanked had made it soft. She took her time, poking it in and out, which made me squirm on her lap, which earned me a smack on my already sore behind. At last she took it out, wiped it off with a piece of toilet paper, and read it. I could feel the Vaseline in my bottom when I worked my muscles back there. "Hmm," she said. That's all she ever said

She tested the enema water with her wrist. It was too cool. Making a "tsk tsk tsk" noise she made me get off her lap and come with her into the bathroom while she ran some very hot water into the bowl and added more soap.. I watched with fascinated horror as she shaved off the yellowish brown soap with a knife and swirled it around until it had dissolved. The thought that that soapy water was soon going be to squeezed into me made my stomach churn. As if she could read my thoughts, Aunt Edna ran her hand down my bare back and over my behind.

"You know where that water's going, don't you, Billy?" And she patted my warm behind in case I missed the point

"Yes, ma'am." I felt myself blush again, and also felt my little thing stiffen. She must have noticed, because after she placed the bowl back on the table she drew me between her thighs and said,

"So you think you like getting enemas, do you? Well, we'll see how much you enjoy this one."

And with that she drew me across her lap again and adjusted me to her liking, so that my bottom was once again thrust upwards and open, my legs parted to expose my hole. Then she filled the bulb syringe, lubricated it liberally with Vaseline, parted my sore cheeks with her left hand, and aimed it at my opening.

I felt the black nozzle circling my hole, then felt it go right in. The nozzle was bigger than the thermometer, but not too big. Now it was in me all the way, the little flange pressed against me. I liked the feeling.. Then my aunt's large hand squeezed the bulb, and I felt the hot, soapy water rush into me. I closed my eyes.

It felt good at first, the warm water, the slippery nozzle. And the funny thing is I sort of liked being over her lap in the spanking position. I think it was because if she was in control and I was under her power, then it wasn't responsible for anything that happened. She had spanked me for getting a stiffie and now I was getting another one but it wasn't my fault, because here I was lying helpless over her lap and one of her hands was holding my wrists up my back and the other was holding the nozzle in my behind and she could do whatever she wanted to me.

I pushed my behind up to show her I was going to take my enema like a good boy, because I really did want to please her. The trouble was that I knew she was going to fill me too full. She always did. Right now it felt good, but I knew it would start to get bad pretty soon.

She slowly withdrew the glistening nozzle from my behind and refilled it . I felt her part my cheeks again and felt the hard black nozzle pushing into me again until it was all the way in, and again I felt the warm water gush into me, churning inside me. The soap stung a little and made me feel full. This was bad because I knew I had more squeezings to go. I liked the feeling of the nozzle going in and out, but by the fourth bulbful I felt very full of the soapy water.

"Please stop, Auntie Edna. I'm too full!"

"Nonsense, child. I know how much you can hold."

How could she know? It wasn't her belly that was filling up. That's when I started to feel sort of panicky. What if she gave me so much I burst? She could do whatever she wanted. I felt very helpless. At first I had liked this helpless feeling,, but now it scared me a little.

"Please, Auntie Edna, please! I can't hold any more!"

"I'll be the judge of that, young man," she said in a slightly threatening tone of voice,

I knew my behind was very vulnerable just now, sticking up bare and inviting, still pink and tingling from my spanking and in her view just asking for more, so I decided not to press the matter. And to my relief, instead of filling me up some more she reached under me and massaged my stomach, working the water around. I could feel and hear it sloshing inside me. At the same time she pressed hard against my bottom hole with her thumb so no water could leak out.

After a while I felt a little better. and she announced that I was ready for another syringeful. I didn't think so, but said nothing. I heard the sucking noise as she refilled the syringe, and again my bottom cheeks were parted and the nozzle inserted. This time she squeezed the water in quite slowly, massaging me with her other hand.

"Take deep breaths," she said, and that helped a little I wanted to please her, so I tried to be brave, but the soapy water was making me cramp, and my belly was stretched tight as a drum, and I was afraid she was going to give me another squirting, and this made me begin to sob.

Aunt Edna squeezed the last of the water into me, and with it came a little air. Then she took it out, much to my relief. My relief was short lived, though, for again I felt my buttocks being parted and something invading me. This time it was her long, bony finger that was being inserted. Deeper and deeper it went, until it was all the way in.

"Now, Billy, you're to hold your enema for five minutes."

A dreadful sentence! There was a clock on the dresser which I could just see by looking sideways and up. I tried to make the big hand move my using will power, but it seemed to stand perfectly still. The five minutes seemed like an eternity as I lay there trying to hold it in, and feeling her long bony finger inside me.

With her other hand she massaged my tummy, and again I felt the water sloshing around inside me. I was not stiff now. All the nice feeling was gone and now it was just all I could do to hold it in until the time was up. . "Can you feel the water moving inside you, Billy? That's the enema going to work. It's breaking up all your poo that's poisoning your insides, so that when you got potty it will all come out. And afterwards you'll feel so much better.

I didn't tell her that I had felt fine before the enema, because I knew that would be the wrong thing to say. So I just lay there panting as she massaged my tummy and worked her long longer around inside my bottom. At last I felt her finger coming out of my bottom. It came out like a cork out of a bottle, and holding my bottom cheeks together with one hand she helped me up and led me into the bathroom. I was trying as hard as I could to hold it in but I knew I couldn't hold it much longer, and as soon as she sat me down on the toilet I relaxed my muscles back there and it came gushing out of me.

What a relief! She stood watching with her arms folded as I noisily expelled the enema water and all the little bits and pieces of poo it had loosened up. It was embarrassing to have her there watching and listening, but it felt good to be able to let it all come out that I didn't care. From time to time she massaged my tummy to work the water down, and I could hear it sloshing around, so I knew there was more. When she was quite sure I had expelled it all she let me up, wiped my behind, then put me on the table for the final humiliation: the diapering.

None of the boys I knew got diapered. I'd been afraid to ask them directly because then they might think I did, so I told them that I once knew a boy who got diapered after his enemas, and they all laughed and said "What a sissy!". So I knew they didn't have to wear nappies like little babies. When I asked my aunt why I did, she told me it was to save the sheets in case I leaked, and in fact I knew I did leak into them sometimes, and then when she took them off she saw stains in them she would nod her head as if to say, "You see, I told you you might leak." It was just one more proof that Aunt Edna was always right.

Still, I hated wearing them, But I knew that any show of resistance would only earn me a red behind, so I let her raise my legs high and slip the nappy under me, then fold it up between my legs and pin it with a huge safety pins Then she let me off the table with a pat on my padded behind and led me into my own room and put me to bed. As I lay down on my side, exhausted from my ordeal, I heard her say,

"You'll be getting another enema before you go to bed tonight, to make you sleep well. Now you stay in bed until I come and tell you you can get up.." And she left my room.

It was only mid-afternoon, so this gave me lots of time to anticipate my next enema. The immediate effect this thought had was to cause my little thing to stir inside my nappy. And just before drifting off to sleep I thought about the things that had happened: my aunt undressing me as if I were three years old, and being made to go across her lap in that submissive position that gave her such easy access to my bottom, and the humiliating spanking that made me bawl like a little kid, then the nice feeling of the cool, slippery glass rod in my bottom, and then the bigger enema nozzle, and then the first surge of hot soapy enema water, and the feeling of being completely under her control and so not responsible for what my little thing did.

And the more I thought about these things, the more confused I got, and the stiffer I got in front, and when at last I fell asleep I dreamt that Aunt Edna was giving me my bath and the water was very warm and somehow it was going up my bottom too and filling me up so that I was surrounded by water and being filled with it too. And it felt very nice.

Rate this story... Really bad | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Fantastic (currently 2.7 out of 5)