“Helen walked out.” Those were the first words I heard on my cell phone when I returned the page that had come in. I was standing in the grocery store parking lot. The voice was that of my 20 year old son, Hank.
“When did that happen?” I asked, not really interested, but wondering what was so important that he paged me about it. I suppose I should explain. Hank’s father is my ex-husband, Joel … we’ve been divorced for the better part of Hank’s 20 years. Helen is – was – Joel’s live-in fiancee of 5 years. Joel has always been a wonderful, caring, docile man and always did what his women told him to do. That’s why we’re no longer married. I couldn’t stand the fact that he let me and his mother and his sister walk all over him. Helen was no better. Hank refered to her as “Helen the Dominatrix.”
“Five days ago. Mom, I’m worried about Dad.” Hank went on to explain … since Helen left, Joel wasn’t eating or drinking much and he hadn’t left his bed. “Can you help him, Mom? He looks weak and his skin is kinda gray.”
Gray skin on the man with the golden tan? That’s not good. “I’m on my way, son. Stay with him and be there to let me in.” I put my groceries in the car and drove quickly to their house. The wheels were turning in my head. Could he be really ill? Or perhaps it was a heart problem … as in broken heart. Well, the only way to tell is to see him.
“He’s still in bed,” Hank whispered as I walked in. He pointed down the hallway to the master bedroom, as if I didn’t know where it was.
“Bring my groceries in from the car, honey. Make sure you put the cold stuff in the fridge. If anything spoils, your butt is mine. And don’t come in unless I call you!” I told him and walked into Joel’s room.
Good thing Hank had prepared me or I might have given myself away. The man on the bed was not the man I knew. His dark hair spilled across the pillow, liberally streaked with gray. His beautiful dark eyes were closed, but I could see the circles under them, his skin seemed to just hang off his cheekbones and, Hank was right – he did look gray. I bent down and kissed him on the forehead, resting my hand on his neck. Actually, I was checking for fever and pulse, but he didn’t need to know that. Joel opened his eyes.
“What in hell are you doing here? Come to gloat? Why don’t you go talk to Helen? You two can compare notes and tell each other what a perfect asshole I am..” He sounded weak, too. But his words reassured me. He wasn’t seriously ill. Heartbroken perhaps. Bitter, definitely, but not seriously ill.
“Nobody’s perfect, dear. Now, why did Helen leave?” I’d already gotten the gist of the situation from Hank. He and Helen didn’t like each other much, leaving his father feeling rather like the rope in a tug of war. Helen had given Joel an ultimatum.
Joel was visibly upset. “She gave me a choice … her or Hank. I dillied and dallied until she knew I wasn’t going to make a decision. Why couldn’t I make a decision, for once? You were right, Mel. I can’t do it … like you said, I couldn’t even choose whether to shit or piss if my body didn’t make that decision for me.” And he surprised me by bursting into tears.
Always a sucker for a man’s tears, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed his face into my shoulder. “Oh honey, I never would have said that if I knew it would stick with you this long. I’m so sorry. Sssh, it’s ok, baby. Helen gave you no choice. She knew you couldn’t make a choice between her and Hank. Hush, honey. Hank’s a part of you. Helen was wrong in trying to cut that off. You did right. It’ll be ok. Hush, now.” I rocked him and crooned to him until his sobs subsided. He rested comfortably against my shoulder, but I could feel the heat radiating from his body. And it wasn’t a natural heat, either. I layed him back against his pillow and and looked him in the eye. “Now, what have you done to yourself?”
“Nothing” Joel mumbled, sounding like a small boy with something to hide.
“Nothing, huh?” I replied. “Hank said you’ve not eaten anything, nor drank anything, nor spent much time out of this bed for 5 days. You’re running a fever, but that could come from the fact that you’ve dehydrated yourself. I imagine you’re constipated, too, since you’ve not had much to drink or eat.”
“Hank has a big mouth. I didn’t …” he started.
I cut him off. “We need to re-hydrate you and get some food into you. And I want to take your temperature. Do you have a thermometer?”
“Bathroom,” he mumbled.
Sure enough. There was a thermometer in the bathroom and, if they’d had anything besides a rectal thermometer, Helen took it. I washed my hands, grabbed it, and the KY, out of the cabinet and headed back into the bedroom. Joel squeezed his eyes shut as I stepped into the room. I shook down the thermometer. “You may as well open your eyes, love. We’re gonna do this, regardless.”
“Because if your temp is as high as I think it’s going to be, I’ll be running you to the doctor. If not, well, we’ll just treat you here … so be a good boy …” I said as I lubed the thermometer.
“God, I hate this.”
“Sssh. Think I’ll put you over my lap, like I used to do Hank when he was little. That way I can make sure you don’t wiggle around and dislodge it or hurt yourself.” I grinned impishly.
Joel’s eyes got wide, then he got this strange, half smile on his face. He sat up and undid the tie in his pajama bottoms and, to my surprise, slid over my lap. Wide-eyed myself, I slipped his briefs off his bottom and down his thighs, marveling in the fact that in 20 years the man’s butt hadn’t changed a bit. I put a little KY on my finger and placed it against his anus. He tensed, but I just rubbed it around a little until he relaxed. I placed the tip of the thermometer against the hole and again he tensed. I waited until the muscle relaxed and inserted the tip of the thermometer, waited again and slid it in. Joel gasped and tensed again.
I rested one hand against his bottom, with the thermometer protruding from between my fingers. With the other, I reached over and massaged the back of his neck. “It’s ok, sweetheart. It’ll be done soon.” He relaxed more and lay there, letting me stroke his neck and back, only flinching a bit when I twisted the thermometer around so I could see the scale. When his temp had registered, I gently removed the thermometer. Joel sighed, but made no move to get off my lap. Not as bad as I’d thought … his temp was 101 – high enough that I wanted to bring it down, but not so high that I’d need to take him to the doctor.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
“Mmmmph.” was all the response I got. I let him lay there for a while, continuing to massage his back and his bottom. I applied a little more KY to my fingers, rubbing the fingers together to warm it, and gently inserted one finger into his backside. He stiffened, then relaxed. The finger met with the obstruction I’d felt when I inserted the thermometer, but I could tell what it was this time and I slipped my finger out. Joel sighed again. “How bad is the damage?”
“Not too bad … 101 … about a degree & a half above normal. But we need to bring it down. And we need to get some fluids into you. Your face is gray, your skin is hanging. And you’re constipated.” He’d really done a number on himself. “I’m going to send Hank in with some juice – sip it slowly – and I’m going to call Karl to get his advice.” Karl is one of three doctors I worked with before I quit nursing. He was always willing to help out. Although I had a few ideas as to what he’d say.
I walked into the kitchen and poured Joel some apple juice (from my groceries, of course). “Hank, take this is to your father. And stay with him, please.” Hank, ever the obedient son when it suits him, followed my orders. I picked up the phone and called Karl.
After I explained the situation to Karl, he answered me with one word – enema – explaining that it would take care of both problems. “You apply liquids at both ends, Mel,” he said in his booming voice. “You made a good start with the juice. But a couple of enemas will do him up right and undo the damage he’s done to himself.” He went on to tell me Joel would need the one to clear out the “build up” in his colon, and another one (or two) so that his body will absorb the fluid. “I’ll call over to the Medicine Shoppe and get them to prepare you a goodie bag.”
Ok, I thought to myself, how am I supposed to do this? Having given enemas to patients, I knew that the vast majority of people aren’t too happy to be presented with the prospect. I didn’t mind them myself, but then that’s me. Joel had always been reluctant to have anything in contact with that part of his anatomy, but I did have an idea. He always liked “role playing” when we made love and he did have a thing for my nurse’s uniform. Hmmmm … I walked back into the bedroom.
“I need to go out for a few minutes. Karl called in a prescription.” (Ok, so it was a little white lie.) “Hank, keep an eye on your father. Joel … drink your juice.”
“Yes, mother,” was the unison answer. I laughed as I walked out. It was a short drive to the Medicine Shoppe. When I got there, the package was all prepared for me. I paid for it and walked out the door. I really didn’t need to look in it, knowing Karl would have everything I needed in it, but I couldn’t resist.
Yup, enema bag & rectal tube, exam gloves, hemorrhoid suppositories (good idea, Karl), bulb syringe, mineral oil and castille soap (what would I need that for?), instructions (oh, that’s what I need that for), and what’s this? Sedative suppositories … I guess I did mention he was having trouble sleeping. One more stop … at my house.
I never wore a uniform at the office, just a blouse, slacks and a lab coat. BUT I have a uniform that I normally wear as a Halloween costume, including stockings & garter belt and the cap. I quickly changed clothes, adding a lacy bra, a pair of French-cut panties and a pair of 3-inch white spiked heels … every man’s dream of the perfect nurse, right? I put my coat on over it and called my son.
“Hank, be prepared to leave as soon as I get there.” At the shocked silence on the other end, I continued. “Go to Heather’s and stay until I call you. You can take my car and you can take my cell phone. But you don’t need to be witness to what I plan to do to your father.”
“Oooh ok, but you’ve made me curious. What you gonna do? Seduce him?”
“Goodbye, Hank.” Well, gee, maybe I did plan to seduce him, but that’s not something I’d admit to my son. I drove over and walked into the house. Hank was standing in the kitchen. I set the bag and my purse down on the counter and took off my coat.
“Wow, Mom. Too bad they don’t have nurses like you at my doctor’s. I’d be sick a whole lot more often.” Hank said with a low whistle.
“Your Dad’s insurance wouldn’t cover it, sweetie. But I’m not too bad for an old girl, huh?” I said as I handed him my keys and my phone.
“You’re not bad for ANY girl,” my son said as he walked toward the door. “Let me know how everything comes out.”
I’m sure he didn’t mean that pun. I don’t even think he knew what I’d planned. But, time to get started. I unwrapped all the packages. I warmed the oil in the microwave, and filled the bulb syringe. Then I went into the bedroom, with the syringe behind my back.
Joel was still sipping his juice and he choked on it when he saw me. “Oh, God,” he said. “I guess Karl prescribed some perfectly hideous treatment and you dressed that way to distract me so I wouldn’t mind?”
“Weeeelll, yes,” I said as I brought the syringe around in front of me. His eyes got wide and he started to get up off the bed. I quickly moved to stop him, sitting partly on him and partly on the bed, a revealing a nice length of thigh while I did it. He was definitely distracted. “Look, honey. It’s for your own good. And it will be done, with or without your cooperation. Now, you can behave yourself and we’ll get on with this, or I can call your son in to help me.” Not that I would or even could do that, but the threat was enough to make the fight go out of him. I patted his leg. “Ok, now let me explain what I’m going to do. There will be a series of at least 3 enemas.”
“How many?” he said hoarsely, trying to swallow. I handed him back his juice.
“Drink that. Three. The first one will loosen and soften the fecal material that’s in your bowel. Believe me, you want what’s there to soften before it tries to come out. And much of it will come out when you expel that enema, but you’ll need to hold it to give it time to work. The second will clear out the residue of the first one. That one may be a little rough, but you’ll be ok. The third one, tho’, you’ll have to retain. The longer you retain it, the more fluid your body will absorb and the less likely we’ll need to give you a another one. So are you ready, or do I need to give you more time to prepare?”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he groaned. “So how are we going to do this?”
“Well, there are several positions, “ I explained as I pulled on a pair of exam gloves. He flinched at the sound of them snapping back around my wrist. “You can lay on your left side with your top leg drawn up. Or you can get up on your hands and knees, well, not exactly hands and knees. You’d be on your knees with your head and chest resting on the bed. I rather like that position.”
“For giving or receiving?”
“Can I go back over your lap?”
“Oh, you liked that, did you? Sure, you can go over my lap, but keep in mind, this will take a little longer than a rectal temp and it might become a little uncomfortable. Ok? Let me get ready,” I said as I moved a little further down the bed and off him. I pulled my skirt up so that it exposed the bare skin at the top of my stockings. Joel stood and looked at me. “Well, I didn’t want to get my uniform wet. Ready?”
Joel grinned. “Then you better pull the back side out from under you.”
I frowned at the comment. He once again undid his bottoms, looked at me, shrugged, and then pushed them and his briefs all the way down his legs and stepped out of them. His semi-erect cock was at eye level for me and it was everything I could do not to reach out and touch it. I could feel myself getting wetter by the minute.
I patted my lap. “Come on.” He lowered himself across my lap. “Move up a little, sweetheart.” He looked at me funny. “Joel, I need your head lower than your tail. Rest your head and chest on the bed, yes, just like that, so your bottom’s up in the air.” What that also did was position his cock directly between my thighs. I started explaining what I was doing. “I’m going to lubricate your anus and rectum so the nozzle will go in more easily, “ I said as I inserted one finger into his anus. I felt his cock jump between my thighs and bit my lip. I moved the finger around a bit until I was sure he was well greased (I know I was.) “Ok, I’m going to insert the tip now.” And I did, sliding about two inches of the nozzle in. Joel jumped.
“For God’s sake, Mel. Stop with the play-by-play. Just do what you have to do and be done with it.” He said from between gritted teeth.
I stifled a giggle. “Sorry. Let me just put this in the rest of the way and we’ll finish up this one.” I’m ashamed to say I teased the poor man unmercifully with nozzle … putting it partially in, letting it slip out a bit, moving it in and out a little, until finally, after a “Jesus, Mel,” I inserted it all the way and began injecting the warm oil. “You’re doing fine. Are you alright?” At his affirmative grunt, I finished up the oil and slid the nozzle out of his bottom.
He moved as if to get up. I pressed down in the middle of his back. “What’s your hurry, babe?”
“I have to go …”
“You don’t understand, I have to go!”
“No, I do understand. But you can’t go yet. You need to retain this for a while to give it time to work … to soften the stool and lubricate the track back here. Not too long, only ten minutes or so.:
“Mel, I don’t think I can. I feel like … I’ve just got to …”
“No, you don’t. Stop thinking about it and the sensation will pass.” I parted his buttocks and looked. His anus was rapidly opening and closing. “Maybe I can help a little,” I said as I slipped a finger back into his bottom and moved my legs closer together, effectively pinning his now-rigid cock between them. I could feeling his anus clutching at my finger. I started rolling my legs from side to side a bit … the clutching stopped.
“What are you doing? That feels so …”
“Good?” I asked.
“The finger is to keep you from expelling too soon. The rolling motion, well, I used it with colicky babies … placed them on their stomachs on my knees and rolled them like this … it seems to comfort them. How about you?” His breathing was getting faster, but not from panic any more. In fact, I could feel his cock jump with every roll of my knees. Well, that’s one way to distract him. I began moving my finger in and out a bit and pressed my knees closer together to provide some friction. It didn’t take long. He came very hard … not only did I feel the warm fluid shoot down my leg, but I could feel his anus spasming around my finger. He stopped moving … so did I. And I watched the color creep fron his neck all the way down to his knees.
“I’m sorry,” he said, effectively burying his face in his arms.
I caressed the back of his neck. “No need to be, after all I wanted to distract you.” His sphincter was no longer clutching at my finger so I carefully removed it and rested my hand on his bottom.
Joel chuckled. “That you did and quite nicely, too. As I recall, you were always good at distracting me.”
Memories flooded my mind, but none I wanted to think about right then. “Still feel like you have to go?” He shook his head. “The sensation will come back shortly and when it does, go. Then we’ll move on.”
“You’re not going to give me a break, are you?” His expression turned back to anger. He pulled himself off my lap and stood there glaring at me.
“If you want a break, you’re talking to the wrong person.
He stalked into the bathroom and I moved to the kitchen. After cleaning myself, I cleaned the bulb syringe and prepared the next solution … mild cleansing enema … filled the bag and went back into the lion’s den. The lion was still in the bathroom, but I could tell from the noise, he was making progress. Of course, some of the expletives I heard were directed at me. I giggled quietly and set up the room for the enema. I hung the bag on the headboard then got some towels from the linen closet (and found out what I’d need to give Joel for Christmas … Helen must have owned all the towels) and spread them on the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed and noticed Joel’s clothes still laying on the floor. I wondered if he’d come out of the bathroom as naked as he went in. Somehow I had my doubts.
He came out with a towel wrapped aroung his waist. And a very small one at that. The only thing it covered was his genitals, leaving most of one hip and his buttocks bare. “Stop laughing,” he said. Of course, I hadn’t made any noise, but I have a very expressive face. Joel gave a sigh. “Where do you want me?”
I gave some thought to that one, more than I should have actually, before I answered, “I think we’ll keep you off my lap for a while.” Joel blushed. “So the choice is yours … lay on your side, or bottoms up? They’re both equally effective. Just make sure your head is toward the foot of the bed, whichever one you choose.”
He positioned himself on his hands and knees. I grabbed a pillow and layed it on his hands. “Rest your head on that.” Then I moved his knees farther apart. “Wonderful. Are you ready?” Joel just snorted. “I’m taking that as a yes.” With clean gloves on, I lubricated the nozzle and his anus (“Joel, stop wiggling”), bled the air and cool water out of the tube, and gently slid about ten inches of it in.
Joel reared up like a horse. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” \,p.I calmly walked around, took his hands and pressed his head back to the pillow. “I apologize, Joel. I should have warned you about that. It’s a rectal tube. It goes in a little further than the bulb syringe.”
“Everything’s relative.” He glared at me. “… Ok, twice as far. Are you alright? Then let me get this started before the water cools again.” I released the clamp on the tube and let the water flow in. I reached over and massaged his belly, making sure to keep my hand away from his cock which was again making its presence known.
Maybe 8oz of fluid had gone in when Joel said, “Mel, stop. I’m full.”
I clamped the tube and massaged his belly with both hands. “Better.” He nodded. I restarted the flow.
“I’m gonna have to take the whole thing before you’ll let me up, aren’t I?” I nodded. He sighed. “So I should resign myself?” I nodded again. “This and one more?” Another nod. “You know if I wanted to I could just get up and stop this. Put you out of my house.”
“I know,” I said. “But you won’t.”
“You’re right. I won’t. Because I already feel better, and I know you’ll take good care of me, if only for Hank’s sake.”
“Not only for Hank’s sake,” I said, looking away. “Good, bag’s empty.” I slid the tube out of him. “This one you won’t need to hold. So…”
He needed no further encouragement from me. Once again, he headed for the bathroom and I went to the kitchen. After cleaning and preparing again, I stood by the sink and thought. Joel and I were married for 5 years and four of them were very happy. He was just as attractive to me now as he had been when we met in high school. I knew he loved his son, just as I knew he didn’t love Helen … why would he have made her wait 5 years after giving her a ring. And I was lonely … I missed Bruce tremendously. Wait a minute, what was I thinking. There was a reason we divorced years ago … if I think about it, I’m sure I’ll remember what it was. Reconcile with my ex … I’ve got to be losing my mind. Oh well, back to the business at hand.
I walked into the bedroom to find Joel already lying on the bed, this time on his side, with his back toward me. I hung the bag back up, touching his hip as I passed to let him know I was there. “What took you so long?” he asked without looking back.
“I decided to afford you some privacy,” I lied. He snorted. “Shall we get started? Pull your top leg up a little higher. Yes, like that. It might be more comfortable, and less of a balancing act, if you turn partly on your stomach. Perfect, hon.” I sat on the bed behind him and once again lubed him and the tube, bled the air … “Ok, deep breaths … aaaand … it’s in.” I opened the clamp on the tube. “If you start cramping, start panting … you know, like when you were coaching me in Lamaze classes.”
“God, Mel. That was 20 years ago.”
“I know, but some things you never forget. Or do you?” I left that question hanging.
“No, I never forgot,” he said quietly. “Besides, I was better at that breathing then you were.”
“I know, so if I only could have let you carry and deliver the little monster.” Joel chuckled. He understood – Hank was an 8 lb, 13 oz baby and I had been pregnant from neck to knees. He put his hand back behind him. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I put my free hand in it. He lifted his head and brought my hand under it, kissed my fingers, and pressed my palm to his face.
He sighed, “What happened to us, Mel? I mean, we were really happy at first. And then … “
“I don’t know, Joel. Maybe we were too young. Maybe we both needed to grow up some more. I know I certainly did. I think I was looking for a man like my father … someone strong, forceful, decisive …”
“Picky, picky. Anyway, you are all those things, with the possible exception of ‘tyrannical.’ I reserve judgement on that one. But you weren’t that way with me … you indulged my every whim and I was too young to appreciate it or control it.”
“But you’re not now?”
“I’m not now. What about you? Looking for a woman like your mother?”
“Yes and I found her, too.” At my gasp of outrage, he quickly added, “No, not you. Helen. Helen is exactly like my mother, which is probably why I could never bring myself to actually set a date. Although you come in at a close second. Do you know how bossy you are?”
“Only with people I really care about. And you know I’m really just a toasted marshmallow … hard and crusty on the outside, gooey and sweet on the inside. Don’t say it,” I added quickly when I saw him getting ready to speak. He chuckled again. “So if you know you weren’t going to marry Helen, why were you so upset that she left?”
“I’m not sure I was upset she left. I think I just felt alone and I didn’t like the feeling. I mean, you spend six years of your life with a person and then they’re gone. It’s … it’s lonely. Do you know what I mean?
“Yeah, I sure do,” I answered, my voice getting a little husky with remembered love and sadness.
“Oh, Melli. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“No problem, honey. Don’t worry about it.” The bag was empty. I clamped the tube, but left it inside him. I patted his bottom. “You’re done … well, mostly. Roll over on your back and bring your legs up. Not quite so far. There you go.” I massaged his belly. “You need to retain this one, Joel. Fifteen minutes minimum, longer if you can. When you feel as if you have to go, pant … “ He panted at me like some overgrown mutt.
I laughed as I walked into the kitchen to set the timer. And to get myself back under control. Talking to Joel like that, honest and open, was definitely wreaking havoc on my emotions. When I walked back in the room, he was panting desperately with a panic stricken look on his face.
“I’m trying, Mel. I really am.”
“Ok, ok. Breath …” I said as I reached over and massaged his abdomen more. That stopped the immediate sensation. “Turn back up on your side, no, the other way so I can get to your back.” I walked into the bathroom and grabbed the hand lotion I had seen earlier. Putting some on my hands and warming it, I applied the hand lotion to Joel’s back and bottom and proceded to massage those parts.
“Aaah. That’s feels so good, Mel.”
“Good. Just relax now, and let everything work.” We continued that way until the timer went off. “Ok, whenever you’re ready, go ahead.” I reach over and removed the tube from his bottom. He just lay very still and let me stoke his skin. The he got up and went into the bathroom. I went back into the kitchen and cleaned and packed my supplies. I called Hank and told him to bring back my car. And oh, the suppositories. I just took those with me back into the bedroom. Joel was out and had put on a clean pair of pajama bottoms. “Here,” I said as I handed him the packages.
“Well, they both have instructions, but I’ll explain.” He was frowning again. “The yellow package contains hemorrhoid suppositories. Your backside’s gotten a little more of a workout today than it usually does, so you may be a little sore. Those will lubricate the track, so you won’t be as sore. You might want one of those now.”
His face darkened more. “And the other?”
“Is a sedative. Mild one. I mentioned to Karl that you were having problems sleeping, so he included those. Actually, I think he might have included them so I could get you to go through with this,” I joked.
Joel had lost his sense of humor. “I don’t recall that you gave me any choice.”
“No, I didn’t. It was for your own good. Now, unless you’re wanting lessons in inserting those, I’ll be leaving.” Before I knew what was happening, Joel sat on the bed and pulled me face down across his lap. He flipped the back of my uniform up to bare my panty-clad backside and brought his hand down on it. Hard.
“THIS is for always thinking you know what’s best for everyone.” (“Joel, stop it.”) “And THIS is for thoroughly humiliating me today.” (“Joel, you’re hurting me!”) “And THIS is for enjoying it.” (“Joel!”) “And THIS is for tormenting me with that syringe. And THIS is for making me come when I didn’t want to. And THIS … “
All told, his hand landed about a dozen times. But the man has hands of steel. By the time he was through, I was crying worse than any 2 year old and squirming in his lap. He kept me over his lap and rubbed my bottom until I stopped crying. He stood me up … I was still sniffling and rubbing my backside … and wiped my face.
“Now when you quit sniffling like a child, you can go home. If by tomorrow afternoon, you’ve forgiven me for what I just did to you and the mean things I’ve done to you over the years, the way I’ve already forgiven you for what you did to me today and over the years, you can come back tomorrow night for dinner. Seven o’clock.”
With those words, he climbed into his bed and promptly fell asleep. So, did I go back for dinner? You bet. But that’s another story.