A Change for the Worst # 7 (After the Doctors)


by Daveboy <daveboy@iname.com>

When we got home from the doctors, we had a late lunch and I was allowed to go up to my room. I was left in peace until Timmy came up and said I was wanted downstairs. He followed me down and I found my mother, step father and Alice in the lounge. On the table was a jug filled with what looked like dirty soapy water, a funnel, a length of tubing and some tubes and jars.

My mother smiled at me and said, "David, your father has told me what the doctor said and I am going to give you your first enema. Come here".

I didn't really no what an enema was and I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it but I went over to her. She pulled my shorts down before I knew what was happening and as I had still not been given any underwear all my private parts were once more on display. She pulled me across her knees removed my shorts completely and asked Alice to bring her the Vaseline.

I lay across her lap and heard her thank Alice and then ask her to pull my cheeks apart. Despite what I had been through that day I could still feel the indignity of having an eight year old pulling my bum cheeks apart. While her little fingers dug into my sore flesh I heard her giggling. The next thing I felt was my mother's greased finger working her way into my exposed hole. It was pulled out and more grease was pushed in. Although I hated her doing it especially in front of Timmy and Alice I was soon pleased that she had done as she started to push a nozzle into my well greased hole. Although I had a variety of people's fingers up there recently and the dreaded tooth brush this felt bigger than anything I had had up there before. While the tip was probably the size of my stepdad's finger it spread out quickly to a large bulb before narrowing with two finger grips on the end where it joined the tubing. I was able to see all this later and found out it was six inches from the tip to its widest part At the time all I knew was it felt like my hole was being spread open and might well soon tear apart. Almost with relief I felt my sphincter close over the widest part but this left the long nozzle jammed inside me. My mum told Alice she could let go now as it wouldn't come out. How right she was it felt as if it would never come out again.

Soon I was aware of the liquid being poured into the funnel and the next thing was this strange sensation as it poured into me. It wasn't unpleasant to start with and I could feel it swirling around inside me but by the time she had finished pouring I felt pretty full. The next moment I was screaming again as my stepdad came over to me and yanked the nozzle out of my hole. The pain took my breath away and I clamped my hands to my hurt hole. I was stood up and must have looked a sight wearing only a tee shirt which finished well above my hips and my sandals and both hands clasped to my bare butt.

I was commanded by my mother to jump around to make sure the liquid cleaned me properly which I did. This caused them all to start laughing at me. If I'd been a spectator I would have probably found it amusing too but when you are the object of everyone else's merriment you find nothing funny in it at all. Soon I could feel the pressure growing inside and I knew I would have to go to the toilet.

"Please mum, I need to go," I said still bouncing.

"Leave it to work a bit longer to get the full benefit," she replied.

As I bounced I saw Timmy whispering to his twin sister. I had learnt by now that when he had that evil grin on his face it usually meant bad news for me. "Please Mum, I really need to go now, I'm sure its worked properly," I begged.

"No a few minutes more will be better," answered my stepdad, "Don't be a baby about this as well".

"Dad," Timmy said, "Alice and I need to go to the toilet now. I think we might be sometime. Is that alright?"

"Sure son, you both take as long as you need. David won't mind waiting for you, he's getting used to controlling himself". With that the pair of them ran off giggling and I was left there knowing that if they weren't quick I was going to have a very nasty accident. I had stopped bouncing when Timmy had spoken and I was squeezing my cheeks together ignoring the soreness from the earlier punishments desperately trying to keep everything in. Although controlling my bladder earlier had been very painful and at times I had thought I wouldn't be able to do it I knew this was different. I knew it was only a matter of a few minutes before I would not be able to hold the pressure in. I also hated to think what would happen to me if I made a mess in the lounge. I knew there would be no understanding that it wasn't my fault. I guessed I also knew that Timmy and Alice would not come back in time although part of me still hoped they would. I pleaded with my mum and stepdad to make them let me go but I was just told not to be selfish and to wait my turn. When I explained that I couldn't wait with tears streaming down my face once again I was just told I would have to. As I got to the point of bursting I made a decision and hobbled out of the lounge through the kitchen and out the back door. It was hard to move fast as my stomach was cramping and it was literally my hands that kept everything in. I only got a few steps onto the concrete area outside the back door when the water and solids gushed out of my back passage. I could only squat there crying as I emptied my bowels in the open.

As I looked up I saw my stepfather, mother, Timmy and Alice standing there. My mother again had the disgusted look she had when she found I had wet my bed, the eight year old sadists had broad grins on their faces and my stepdad looked furious.

"You filthy animal," he roared, "How dare you mess out here".

All I could do was apologise and repeat over and over again the fact that I couldn't help it. This cut no ice with him. Timmy was ordered to get him a rubber glove which he pulled on. "Normally I would rub an animal's nose in a mess like this," he growled, "But the concrete would scratch your face and I don't want all the bother if your face goes sceptic". With this he grabbed my neck and held my face close to the mess and with his gloved hand he rubbed the mess into my face. He was rough and it hurt and he kept getting more of it up and rubbing it in including working his fingers into my mouth and around my teeth. When my face was fully smeared he told me I was to clean up the rest of the mess but I was not to wipe my face. I felt sick but I didn't even dare spit any of the mess out of my mouth. I was given a bowl which I filled from the garden tap and an old scrubbing brush and I had to scrub the concrete. There I was with my face covered in _s_h_i_t_, bare arsed down on my bare knees scrubbing away. I had to keep going over to the tap and filling the bowl and carrying the water over getting back down on my knees and scrubbing away. He kept me at it for over half an hour until he was satisfied and by that time my knees and back ached as well. Then he went and got a hose and attached it to the tap and made me bend and pull my arse cheeks apart while he squirted the water on my hole. The water nearly knocked me over. As the water stung me I wished he had allowed me to use it to clean up the mess. After he was satisfied that my bum had been washed clean I was taken back inside with my face still covered in the mess.

The first thing that happened was the burning cream was applied to my hole. When it had dried my stepdad turned me over his knee and slapped my backside until I was crying.

Next he ordered me to stand and he left the room. Shortly he came back and was carrying a black leather strap. He told me it was called a tawse. I was to get to know this implement well over the next few years. At one end it had a sort of handle and the other it was split into three tails. It was about 2 foot long and the tails were 9 inches long and I was about to find out how painful it could be when applied with force to my bum especially as now when it was already sore. He turned one of the armchairs round and I was ordered to bend over the back. He yanked me further over so I was right on my tiptoes.

"Right David, I am now going to show you what happens to dirty little animals. When I have finished I think you will never behave so disgustingly again," he threatened.

I heard a swish and then felt and explosion across my cheeks. I couldn't help myself I yelled and leapt up grabbing my cheeks, trying to rub the pain away.

"Get back down," he yelled, "You are getting 12 and each time you move that one won't count. So I'll start again". I got myself back over the chair and this time grabbed hold of the cover with both my hands.the leather bit into my skin. "One," he said. I gripped tighter "Two".my tears were starting again "Three".I had never felt pain like this before "Four".My feet left the ground as I desperately tried to stay in position "Five".Each hit covered both cheeks. "Six" This one caught me at the base of my cheeks and the top of my thighs and the build up and of pain and being hit on this tender position made me lose my grip and I collapsed on the floor with a scream. "That one doesn't count. Get up" As I got to my feet I noticed how close Timmy and Alice were standing obviously wanting to get a real close up of my punishment. I found it hard to stand but leant over the chair again. "Get that bum up," Dad ordered and he put his hand between my legs and lifted me up. "You still have six to come, stop being such a wimp it only means you get extra. You are going to get each and everyone if it takes me all night to give them to you. I'll teach you how to behave you filthy brat".

All I could do was lie there bent over the back of the chair crying and sobbing I knew nothing I could say would stop him hitting me. It was so unfair, it hadn't been my fault I couldn't help it but even so I felt ashamed. Added to my bedwetting my inability to control my bowels left me wondering what was wrong with me. Maybe I was the wimp like he said. As I lay there in my misery I heard the swish of the tawse and felt it biting into the same spot again.I learnt over the years how tender that spot at the bottom of my cheeks were. "Seven"."Eight"."Nine".By now I was screaming and begging even though I knew it was hopeless. "Ten". All I could focus on was not letting go of the chair. I didn't know if I could take one more but I knew I couldn't take any extra. "Eleven".It was probably the hardest hit of them all and my legs shot up and thrashed in the air but although my hands slipped I desperately managed to grab on and stay in position.

"OK get up, now you are going to stand on this stool, hands by your side and you will explain overtime anyone comes in to this room why you are standing there with a red backside and a dirty face. You will tell them you have been punished because you are a filthy little animal who can't control his number ones or twos. It doesn't matter if you've already told them I want to make sure you know why. And don't you dare touch your bum or cover your front. Do you understand?"

"Yes dad," I meekly sobbed. The stool was placed in the middle of the room. I clambered on it and stood there as directed. Where it was placed I could see myself in a mirror. My filth covered face had streaks in it where my tears had run down and I became aware again of the mess in my mouth. I felt sick and sore and thought how pathetic I looked.

I must have been there for about an hour and repeated the message many times to Timmy and Alice who took great delight in coming in and out of the room. Then Elizabeth came back.. My situation would have been embarrassing enough but she had a boy with her. "Hello what have you been up to squirt," she greeted me.

I saw dad looking at me warningly so I knew what I had to do. "I've been punished because I'm a dirty little animal who can't control his number ones and twos," I recited. I saw the look of contempt from the boy with Elizabeth.

"This is Gordon," she introduced, "He goes to the same school you will be going to next year but he will be in the fifth form". I was horrified someone at my new school would know about me. What if he said anything.

He left shortly after but as he was leaving I heard my step father telling him to call round tomorrow as it was my birthday. "If you know anyone else who'd like to call in please get them to call again as David doesn't have any friends here yet," he added. I couldn't hear what else he said but I heard Gordon laugh and say he would see us tomorrow.

I spent the rest of the evening standing on that stool until my mother took me up to have my bath. I was not given any food as I was told they didn't want me needing to have a _s_h_i_t_ until they had sorted out my toileting problems. I asked what they meant but was told to wait until tomorrow when I would find out. The bath despite not having the brush put up my backside was probably the most miserable one yet as my mother spent the time berating me about my behaviour and telling me how ashamed she was of me. Although she didn't hit me once I was reduced to tears and felt the lowest form of life on earth. When she had dried me she took me downstairs naked.

I was taken downstairs to the lounge where all the family was gathered.

"Right David," my stepdad said, "Tomorrow is your birthday and we want you to make a new start. So I want you to go round the room and ask each person in turn for forgiveness and ask them to help you be a better boy in the future and give them a kiss goodnight. Tomorrow is going to be an exciting day, we have some special rules for teenage boys on their birthdays and there will be a special tea party for you when we will give you your presents.

After I had followed his instructions I was taken into the kitchen where I saw a pile of newspapers spread out in one corner. "This is where you are going to sleep tonight," he explained, "because you haven't got a mattress for your bed and if you wet it won't matter. We don't want to have to start your birthday with a punishment now do we".

"What do you say, David, to your father for being so thoughtful," asked my mother?

So I had to thank this hateful man for making me sleep naked on the kitchen floor.

"That's all right David, I always want to help you if I can but you have to try and be better behaved. Now go outside and do your number ones and hopefully we won't even have any wet newspaper to clear up in the morning".

So on the last night before I became a teenager I had to go out into the garden to pee because I wasn't allowed to use the toilet in my house. I spent the night sleeping fitfully on the newspaper. I didn't wet it which I was only to find out many years later was not surprising. It turned out that it was Timmy who had put some of his piss in a bottle and poured it over me and my bed to get me into trouble. Unfortunately as I say I didn't ever find out while we were kids and he did it just often enough to make everyone, me included, think I had a problem for many years and as you can imagine it was a source of embarrassment and trouble for me all through the rest of my childhood.


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