Tammy's Troubling Tuesday

Eighteen year old college freshman Tammy Green knew that something unpleasant was up when her mom reminded her to come directly home from school that day as she had “something that she wanted to talk to her about”. This usually meant a punishment of some sort, or at best, a lecture about whatever. She tried her best to think what this could be all about, but as the school day drew to a close and she hopped in her car for the ride home, she still hadn’t a clue.

Arriving at home, she announced her presence, but discoved that no one was there. However, there was a note on the table from her mom saying that she had to run to the drugstore and that Tammy wasn’t to go out, but wait until she arived back home. With some time to kill, Tammy went up to her room and into her closet to find a joint to smoke and pass the time until her mom came home. Funny, she thought to herself; she could have sworn that there was a joint or two in her hidden jewelery box, but the box was empty. Oh well, she probably smoked it, got stoned, and forgot that she had used it up. . .or did she?

After about ten minutes, Tammy heard her mom’s car pull up in the driveway and the front door open and shut. “Tammy? are you home?”

“Yes, mom. . .I’m upstairs”

“Would you come down here, please. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Tammy bounded down the stairs and ran directly into her mom who was holding a small baggie with two hand-rolled cigarettes in it. “Lose something?”, she asked.

“Why no, mom.” Tammy tried to look puzzled. “What’s that in the bag?”

“You know damn well what this is”, said her mom, “and to make matters worse, you’re trying to lie to me about it. This was your pot stash and I found it in your little jewelery box when I was cleaning in your closet!”

Tammy protested, “But mom, It’s not mine! I was keeping it for a friend and totally forgot I had it!”

“A likely story. . .well, I think I have something for you that’ll help improve that forgetful memory of yours and improve your ability to tell the truth. Go up to my bedroom right now and remove all your clothes and lie face down across my bed and wait for me. I have a few things to get ready. . .now scat!”

With that admonishment, Tammy ran up the stairs and into her parents’s bedroom where she saw that a latex sheet had been placed on top of the bedspread as well as a large bath towel. Puzzled, she removed her sweater, skirt, and finally her panties, leaving herself clad in only a tank top and her white sneakers with quarter socks. She saw her naked bottom in the full-length mirror and began to wonder what was going to happen to her. Laying face down across the bed she heard her mother bustling about outside the room and her thoughts began to deepen.

Just as a thought cleared her mind, her mother entered the bedroom carrying a pitcher of water with a bar of soap floating in it and a red, rubber bulb syringe with a curved, black nozzle protruding from its end. “Mom. . .what are you going to do with that?”

“I’ve decieded that spanking you has no effect any longer, so it’s time to try something else, like a nice, soapsuds enema. . .and if you give me any lip at all, we can do all this over again when your father gets home. Now spread those legs, young lady!”

Tammy, laying naked and face down on the towel spread her legs apart and felt the wet bar of soap rubbing across her rosebud and heard the sound of the bulb being filled with the water. She then felt her mom pry her cheeks apart and sighed as the curved, black nozzle found its way into her rectum. She moaned as the warm soapy liquid was squeezed into her bowels. Quickly withdrawn when empty, it was just as quickly refilled and again inserted into Tammy’s slippery canal. This sequence was repeated several more times until the pitcher was empty. By this time, her swollen belly was churning for the release it needed. “Mom! Please let me get off the bed and go to the bathroom! Please, NOW! Ohhhh. ..ohhhh.”

Mrs. Bell looked at her watch. “Five minutes, young lady. And you better not spill a drop, or we can repeat this whole thing again.”

Tammy grimaced in her discomfort as the soapy solution churned inside her. “Oh, mom, I don’t think I can hold it anymore. . .Please let me go!”

“Very well”, Mrs Bell replied. “I’ll walk you to the bathroom because we’re not quite finished with all this yet.” This statement brought a quizical look to Tammy’s face, but nevertheless, she slowly climbed off the bad, and holding her asscheeks together walked with her mom, her swollen belly sloshing as she moved, down the hall to the bathroom. When she entered the bath, she was astounded to see, hanging from the shower rod, a large, red, hot water bottle with a hose dangling from it. At the end of the hose was a black nozzle larger than the one which had just been used on her.

“Mom! What’s that for?”, Tammy said as she made a beeline for the toilet. “You gave me an enema already, and here it all comes!” And with that comment, a huge torrent of soapy water and soggy turds exploded from her distended asshole. A few noisy farts later, more water and poop flowed from her burning bum.

“ That’s your ‘rinse’. . .you don’t want those soapsuds left in there, so I’ve decieded to give your a three quart rinsing from this new enema bag I got while I was at the drugstore. Now if you’re finished, clean yourself and stand up for your rinse.”

Tammy looked in disbelief at the size of the red fountain syringe her mother had just purchased from the local drugstore. It had an open top with warm, clear water filling it to the brim, a red rubber hose about five feet long, and a large, black, curved nozzle with a smooth ball on the end. The thought of having her mother put that huge tube in her rear end made her both shudder and tingle with aprehension. “Mom, please don’t give me that. . .I’m really all cleaned out, and I promise I won’t ever have pot in this house again.”

“No, Tammy, I’m not going to give it to you. . .you’re going to give it to yourself. I want you to stand up and insert that tube in your bum, and I want you empty that bag. When that is done, you can consider you punishment over, and I won’t have to mention this to your dad. Do we understand each other?”

Tammy sighed, “Yes, Mom. . .I’ll take another enema, but can’t you give it to me?”

“No, this is something that you must learn for yourself. . .after all you’re going to be a mother someday and you’ll have to know how to do these things. Your grandma did the very same with me when I was your age, except it was for smoking Chesterfields. All right, young lady, let’s get started!”

With that, Tammy took the tube in her hand and rubbed it with the wet soap bar, and then took the soap bar to her rosebud to again lubricate it. Spreading her legs slightly wider and bending at the knees, she took the hose under her legs from the front and pushed the bulbous end against her well soaped rectum. Pushing outward, the nozzle found its mark with ease, sliding all the way up so just that the rubber hose showed between her cheeks. The sensation of the large object in her ass was not all that unpleasant, as a matter of fact, it felt somewhat good, especially when Tammy opened the stopcock and let the water flow. “Oh my! This is certainly different than the one you just gave me,” Tammy said as the pink nipples of her firm breasts began to stiffen, and” she began to rub her wet clitoris with one hand as she gently moved the tube back and forth with her other.

“Ohhh. . .Mom. . .I didn’t think that an enema would do this to me. . .” , Tammy moaned as the last drops flowed from the bag into her well distended tummy. “I’m sorry Mom. . .I just couldn’t help myself. . .but I never felt a sensation like that before in my life.”

Mrs. Bell gave Tammy a big hug, “I understand completely, dear. The same thing happened to me when your grandma gave me mine, and she understood completely too. There’s nothing to be ashamed about. . .now take a look at yourself in the mirror. That’ll give you a peek at what you’ll look like when your about five months pregnant with my grandchild someday. Now I sorry I had to do this today, but it needed to be done. . .No hard feelings?”

“Of course not, Mom. . .I love you”, said the punished teenager as she stood there with the now empty bag hanging on the shower rod and the tube still firmly planted within her; and with that returned her Mom’s hug.”But I have to let this out. . .and now!”

And with that cue, Mrs. Bell turned and left, closing the door behind her. . . .although she did quietly stand outside the door and listened as the last gushes spurted from Tammy, knowing well that a lesson in life had just been well taught.

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