The Candystriper

The timer pinged, and the two sixteen year old candystripers began to unload the autoclave with long steel tongs, transferring the slithery red rectal tubes to a flat tray where they steamed away the last traces of water.

Gemma reached for the shaker of talc and sprinkled a liberal portion over the rubber, then stirred them about to make sure that they were fully coated. Mrs. Miller, the head pediatric nurse, went ape if her precious rectal tubes were not dry and completely talc coated before storage. Liz pulled a stack of the crackly paper bags out of a drawer, and the two girls started to coil the tubes and seal the bags prior to storing them ready for the next day. Gemma shook the last traces of powder into the sink and flushed it away.

“You know, this job is really boring. Susie says that they only use disposable enemas in her department. Did you know that they all call Mrs. Miller the enema queen?”

Mrs. Miller ruled her department with a rod of steel. She had been head nurse for more than twenty years, and she had very fixed ideas about child care, based around a core belief that the source of most ailments was bowels overburdened with poisonous waste matter. The enema bag was wielded with a gentle but totally firm insistence on the Kellogg ideal of inner cleanliness. Providing that the child who was admitted was not actually hemorrhaging, their first experience of hospital was one of lying on their side while a pint or two of warm liquid was delicately run into their kid sized rectum in full view of the other kids who were sharing the room, and, indeed of anyone who chanced to pass by.

Her other weapon was ‘the book’, a hard covered volume of lined paper in which all bowel movements had to be religiously recorded. Woe betide the kid who failed to get a daily entry in the book - he or she would be marched off to the toilets the following morning and told to perform there and then, the alternative being a return to their bed and the subtle delights of the enema.

Mrs. Miller was very much a heroine in Liz’s eyes, as she saw the results of her dedicated nursing in restoring to rude health some of the very sick children who were admitted to the unit.

“That’s not fair! She even treats us like we were real nurses. Susie only gets to fetch and carry and plump up pillows, but we get to do real treatments.”

Liz fell silent, remembering the day when Mrs. Miller had first suggested that they help with the morning enemas. It was only after they had both nodded agreement that Liz discovered their first task was to practice - on each other. Liz had wanted to back out at that point, but such was the authority of the head nurse that she found herself meekly removing her striped dress and lying in misery while Gemma was coached through the process of inserting a greased tube deep into Liz’s butt.

It was then that Liz first understood the reactions of some of the kids when they were confronted with the big red bag. Most of them looked with initial incomprehension and then mounting horror as they realized what was going to happen, but some of them had already experienced enemas. Particularly if they were boys, they would giggle and blush in an almost salacious manner whilst they submitted to having their pyjama pants removed, displaying juvenile erections that they were too young to need to conceal.

Liz still did not understand just how the apparently neutral act of inserting six inches of rubber into her anus had produced such violent feelings deep inside her. And the water! As her rectum had become distended and the urge to empty her bowels had grown almost to unbearable proportions, it had suddenly been replaced with a new and deeply disturbing feeling - the sort that she associated with her secret, sordid dreams.

The other nurses did not mind that Gemma and Liz administered almost all of the enemas. Mostly they regarded the head nurse as, to say the least, eccentric, and the administration of routine enemas as an unskilled task that simply consumed their time without any real benefit to the patients, so they were happy to just let the girls get on with it.

Gemma found it yet another boring task, but Liz actively enjoyed the process - especially with the boys. There was something special about having a little boy lying there, maybe a little scared, but meekly submitting to her performing that most intimate of rituals. It aroused more of those funny feelings when she gently teased the blunt end of the rectal tube inside the child’s anus. It even looked almost sexy to see the way in which the tube emerged, tightly gripped by a young sphincter, snaking its way towards the bag of liquid. Liz prided herself in her sensitivity, the way in which she controlled the flow so as not to cause pain, the gentle rubbing of small tummies to spread the soapy solution around before she helped or carried them to the toilets and watched the wonderful expression of relief as their bowels emptied.

Today was going to be one of the bad ones. When the girls returned to report the completion of their task, they found a distinctly annoyed Mrs. Miller bellowing into the phone.

“No way! This is a pediatric ward.”

There was the sound of equally angry squawking from the phone. Mrs. Miller’s face deepened to a purple shade.

“Now you just listen to me, Mister administrator…”

She was obviously cut short, and the sounds of angry conversation continued. Eventually she slammed down the phone with an explosive grunt.

“These administrators! They never listen - all they care about is cash.”

“What’s the problem?”

“They just won’t listen, that’s the problem. Somebody has messed up in adult surgical, and now they are foisting one of their patients on us. Well, His Majesty has spoken, so you had better go and make a bed up.”

The girls fled to carry out their task. When the head nurse was in this sort of mood, it was best to be very busy. Bed made, they timidly returned to her office to find that the worst of her anger had dissipated.

“Mrs. Miller?”

“Yes, Liz?”

“Is it OK to ask who is arriving?”

She grunted, then picked up a sheet of paper.

“Some boy called Sean Harvey. I don’t know how he got to be seventeen without it being discovered, but, of all the stupid things, he has an undescended testicle.”

Liz felt the room start to spin. It couldn’t be! But how many Sean Harveys could there be? It just had to be HIM! The cutest boy in the whole universe, only a couple of months older than she was, but forever unreachable because he was a year ahead of her at school. The heartthrob of all of the girls, who had never shown the slightest interest in any one of them. She collected herself.

“Oh. We just made up a bed in room five, but there are already two girls and a boy in there. Should we open up room ten so that he can be by himself?”

Mrs. Miller sniffed eloquently.

“Indeed not! If patients are sent here against my wishes, then they will just have to fit in with us - I’m not going to organize my department around the whim of some accountant who calls himself the administrator!”

The girls made themselves busy again, conversing in whispers. Gemma was in a teasing mood.

“So your dream guy is coming in here!”

“You fancy him as well.”

“I do not. He’s not a patch on Robert.”

Gemma and Robert had been dating for years, and they had become unofficially engaged several months ago. Liz could not see the attraction - Robert was studious and certainly not handsome. She contented herself with a grunt, but Gemma wasn’t going to let it rest there.

“I suppose you want to do his enema?”

Liz felt her stomach knot into a tight ball. She felt dizzy again, almost as though she was going to be sick.

“I think Mrs. Miller might want to do him herself”

“I don’t think so. She’s out to make a point here.”

They were interrupted by the sound of a wheelchair moving outside the room, towards the nurse’s station. Timidly, the two girls peered through the doorway at the back of Joe the porter as he wheeled the new arrival along.

“Ah, there you are! Come along here.”

The porter moved away at last, and Liz saw the new patient for the first time. He looked around, his perfect features at first puzzled, then showing recognition, then finally setting into an expression of concern as he looked back at the head nurse.

“Sean, these two young nurses will get you settled in, then I will be along to see you.”

Gemma wheeled him into the room, with Liz dreamily tagging behind, and halted beside the bed, setting the brake on the chair. She picked up the gown and shook it out, then realized her mistake. This was a child sized gown.

“You stay with him, Liz, while I see if we have a large gown.”

Gemma halted in front of Mrs. Miller.

“All our gowns are too small. Where can I get a big one?”

Mrs. Miller sniffed again.

“Go up to the adult ward and ask for one. Oh yes - ask them for a shaving kit while you are there.”

The head surgical nurse retrieved the supplies and handed them to Gemma with a smile.

“I don’t suppose you need all that many shaving kits in pediatrics.”

“I don’t know why we need it. I thought he would have brought his own.”

The nurse started to laugh, until she was doubled up with mirth.

“You silly girl. These aren’t for shaving faces!”

Gemma blushed as the purpose of the item finally dawned on her and fled blushing, back to pediatrics, where she handed the gown to Liz, gave Sean a weak smile, and departed to deliver the rest of her burden.

Liz had been pottering about, talking to the other kids, making certain that Sean did not manage to make eye contact with her. On firmer ground now, she became businesslike.

“Right, Mr. Harvey. Please remove your clothing, put on this gown and get into bed.”

He stared incredulously.

“Here? Right here? In front of these kids? You do realize that two of them are female, don’t you?”

That’s the rule, Mr. Harvey. Private accommodation is not available in pediatrics.”

“Oh, all right. But you have to turn your back.”

Liz burst out laughing.

“That sounds like a line from a forties movie - and a corny one at that! Just get on with it, will you.”

She stood there as he struggled out of his shirt and donned the gown before easing his pants down cautiously. He had just gotten into bed when Mrs. Miller swept in to the room.

“Good, good. Now let’s have a look at you, young man.”

Sean yelped as the sheets were flipped back and his gown lifted to his navel, revealing all to the grinning Liz. The absence of one testicle was immediately obvious, and Liz suddenly realized just why the boy had never gone out with a girl - he was scared that she would notice and spread the information around the school. Mind you, she thought as she gazed appreciatively at his penis, the rest of his equipment was extremely well developed.

Sean was in an agony of shame at the casual revelation of his genitals. It was bad enough that the miserable old hag of a nurse was seeing everything, but to have a girl at his school also looking on with interest was infinitely worse. That was even before he considered the two interested twelve year olds, who were receiving an impromptu sex education lesson. He grabbed at the gown and forced it back down.

“Hey - you’ve got no right to do this. What about some privacy here?”

“You’re discharging yourself, then? Good. I’ll get a waiver for you to sign.”

Sean shut his eyes and groaned in despair. He had become aware of the missing testicle when he was thirteen, and had resorted to multiple artifice to conceal the situation from his parents and the other kids at school. The problem had only come to light when he applied for a rock climbing course and a physical had been sprung on him. His dad had been furious, his mother distressed, and they had moved heaven and earth to get him into hospital at 24 hours notice. The surgeon, an eminent school friend of his father, had broken his vacation and was flying in as a special favor to a long-standing friendship. If Sean walked out now, the shit would really hit the fan! He opened his eyes again, trying to ignore the beads of moisture forming in their corners, and put his hands by his sides.

“No. Just do it quickly, please.”

Mrs. Miller lifted the gown again and probed his scrotum with long, bony fingers. Sean was getting used to this, but he had not appreciated the extent of the wrath of the head nurse, who turned to Liz with an expression of malicious satisfaction on her face.

“Have a good look at this, nurse. That’s what happens when silly little boys play hooky when it’s time for their physicals, just because they are too shy to let someone see their willies. Now you see why we check all of them when they come in here. Go on, it won’t bite - if you push your finger up the inguinal canal you can feel the shape of the undescended testicle.”

It was the ultimate indignity, thought Sean, as younger and smaller fingers prodded and probed, pushing up into a tube in his body that he had never known about until yesterday. He squealed and squirmed as it impacted the testicle more violently that the head nurse had done. The damn ball might not be in the right place, but it sure was just as tender as the other one. Sweat was breaking out on his face before the probing ceased, the finger was withdrawn and he was allowed to cover his shame.

Liz looked on regretfully as the more usual tests were performed, wincing in sympathy as blood was drawn. She followed Mrs. Miller back to the nurse’s station.

“There’s a bit of a rush about this - a special surgeon is flying in from the East, and we have to get the boy prepped immediately. You attend to his enema while I get everything else ready. He’s a big boy, so give him at least a quart - nice and slow, now.”

Liz met up with Gemma in the prep room, and they prepared the solution, exactly at the right temperature. Liz was still wondering if she would get to give the enema when Gemma asked to be excused.

“I just couldn’t do it, or even be there. That poor boy!”

Liz was happy enough with the arrangement. She fitted the bag to the short pole that rose from the cart, selected the largest rectal tube she could find, and added gloves and a tube of lubricant.

Sean looked up as the cart rattled into the room.. His face fell.

“Oh god, no. I had one of them when I was a little kid.”

Then the situation dawned on him.

“Surely you don’t think you’re going to do it? Not a chance.”

He gripped the sheet firmly for protection. Liz looked at him in frustration. This was something that she really wanted to do. She addressed him with her best imitation of Mrs. Miller on a really bad day.

“Well, if you’re just chicken, I’ll fetch the head nurse. I’ve got to warn you, though, she’s not gentle like me. Just wait until I tell the kids at school about all this.”

Sean blanched. He could just imagine the scene when he returned to school if they all knew just what his problem had been. It made suicide seem a pleasant alternative.

“You wouldn’t tell them… would you?”

“I couldn’t if I was your nurse. That would be against professional ethics.”

“That’s blackmail!”

“Yes. Are you going to pay up or take the penalty?”

Sean was seething with anger, but there was no way out for him. He tried another tack.

“You aren’t going to do it here? Is there no privacy at all?”

Liz thought she had lost it when one of the girls chipped in.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It happens to everybody - nobody cares about it.”

With a deep sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, Sean allowed himself to be rolled on to his side. He was actually trembling as he remembered that awful day when he was about seven. He had been feeling off-color, and suddenly Mrs. Jones from across the road was in his room with mom, and before he really knew what was happening mom had him held firmly over her knee and something hard and painful was forced into his butt hole. He could still recall hearing his own voice as he screamed with pain and terror while the soapsuds were forced into his rectum. He had been sore for a week, and there had been flecks of blood on the toilet paper for a while. That had really been the start of his fears about medical procedures, and now it was all happening again. Well, this time he would keep his mouth shut, no matter how much it hurt.

There was the strangest tickling sensation back there as Liz tried to insert the rectal tube. She could see the boy’s anus pucker tightly shut - heck, he was just a kid after all, scared of the unknown. She spoke gently to him, like he was five years old, murmuring reassurance as she watched him slowly relax. This time the tube managed a half inch before the aperture closed again. Liz withdrew it and started the gentle talk again.

Sean felt himself responding, despite his fears. It wasn’t a girl in the year below him any more, it was a sort of combination of mom and kindergarten teacher. He felt another gentle push as the tube managed a slightly deeper invasion of his asshole.

Then it all changed. A jolt of pure sensation originated in his anus as the tissues were stimulated by the end of the tube. It wasn’t pain, it wasn’t pleasure. It was both and neither at the same time. He heard himself again, only this time it wasn’t a scream, more a sharp intake of breath as the confusion spread, like an electric shock deep inside of him, rebounding off his stomach, contracting his muscles, terminating somewhere back of his penis and producing an immediate erection.

“Are you OK, Sean? Did I hurt you?”

He could hardly speak. His voice was cracking.

“No… yes… I’m OK. I just didn’t expect….”

Liz smiled to herself. She could see the cylindrical swelling underneath his perineum. The enema magic was working again. She felt the power in her hands as the boy relaxed and submitted to more of the rectal tube.

“I’m going to start running in the water. Let me know if you feel any discomfort.”

Sean lay, almost paralyzed at the waves of sensation as his rectum detected the invading liquid and added its own urgent signal to that originating from his anus. He suddenly realized just how attractive Liz was, how gentle and understanding. He fell in love to the accompaniment of a quart of soapsuds.

The tube slid out, and then Sean realized his predicament. His prick was engorged and throbbing. He was caught between the desire to conceal it and the increasing urgency of the requirement to empty his bowels. He grabbed the front of the gown and forced it between his legs as he waddled to the toilet. To his intense discomfiture, Liz just stood there in the open doorway. Sean’s voice took on a beseeching tone.

“I need to go by myself. You can’t stay there.”

“Regulations. Patients must be supervised after an enema.”

Sean no longer had any option. The stuff was going to squirt out at any moment, his only choice was whether it went into the bowl or on to the floor. He felt awful as he squatted, the front of his gown sticking out in a parody of a crude comedy sketch. A feeling of pure bliss swept over him as the hot jet of liquid exited, carrying lumps like logs in a swollen river. When he opened his eyes, he realized that his erection had at least partially subsided, and sighed with double relief.

Liz looked round as Mrs. Miller appeared, wheeling a gurney ahead of her. She clucked approvingly at the boy, then issued her next orders.

“Jump up on here, young man.”

Sean allowed himself to be wheeled into a large, tiled bathroom containing a tub of hot water which was emitting an antiseptic reek. He started to climb down, when Mrs. Miller stopped him.

“There’s just one small task first, then you can take a bath.”

He felt his gown being removed, and blushed at his semi-erection.

“Just lie back for me.”

Sean felt horribly exposed. His prick flipped on to his belly, forming an arc from the remnants of his erection. He jumped at a hissing sound and a simultaneous feeling of cold on his front.

“What are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

He shuddered as she produced a razor. A blue plastic razor - with a blade in it.

“I’m just going to shave you. Hairs carry germs, you know.”

She started to mow his pubic hair with slow, sure strokes, wiping the shorn curls on to a piece of paper towel. Her first area denuded, Mrs. Miller signaled to Liz.

“Hold his penis vertical and don’t make any sudden moves. This bit is tricky.”

Cool fingers grasped the head of his prick and hoisted it erect. More hissing, this time around his sac. Mrs. Miller took pinches of skin, stretching it taut as the razor continued its task. Sean could not see what was happening, just the back of Liz’s head as she watched in awe while every trace of hair was removed.

It was the outline of her bra strap that did it. Sean had been an involuntary celibate for the past four years. While his contemporaries indulged in the age-old rituals of fumbling and feeling, wondering and seeing, desiring and achieving, he had been forced to watch from afar, forbidden by his awful secret from taking part. He had been forced to take his pleasure where he could, and the outlines of underwear had become a prime sexual stimulus for him.

Liz felt the thing in her hand suddenly stir and swell. It has seemed big before, but now it was absolutely enormous! She involuntarily released her hold and took a step back, shocked and half frightened by the sight. Mrs. Miller snatched the razor away and hurriedly examined Sean’s scrotum, sighing with relief that there was no sign of blood. She turned on Liz.

“You stupid girl. I could have castrated him. I told you to keep a firm hold, didn’t I? Get hold of it again and keep it steady for god’s sake.”

This time Liz was determined that there would be no further mishap. She wound her fist around the erect organ and concentrated on preventing the slightest movement while Mrs. Miller continued her reaping of the sparse crop of hair at the back of Sean’s scrotum.

Sean gritted his teeth as the tiniest motions were transmitted to the head of his prick. He strained to keep totally stationary, but there was always a residual stimulation as his erection moved within the circle of Liz’s fingers. He felt it coming, the unstoppable rush as his muscles tensed and released in a series of shuddering gasps.

Liz was doubly shocked. First there were the strange noises and the slow movement of the boy’s hips, then his penis was jumping and jerking, and a white, sticky fluid was everywhere. She hung on desperately until the gasping and spasming ceased. If this was sex, it sure was a messy sort of business.

Mrs. Miller was totally unconcerned. As Sean lay, more humiliated than he imagined possible, she added to his mortification.

“Better out than in, I always say. It’s going to be a while before you can do that again.”

Sean puzzled over her words as he lay in the deep, hot disinfectant bath. The warmth soothed and deflated the remnants of his erection, so much so that he hardly cared that he was being gently toweled dry by Liz and the head nurse working together. His new gown was green. That awful, washed out green that surgeons wore. He cringed as he realized that his operation was close. Real close.

“Just lie flat on your back on the gurney.”

There were fresh cloths on that as well. Sean raised himself on his elbows as once again he felt the hem of his gown tucked up. Mrs. Miller was wearing that cheerful smile that presaged no good at all. He gulped as she donned a surgical mask and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

“Be a good boy for me, Sean. I’m afraid this is going to be a little uncomfortable.”

She picked up a tube of ointment and unscrewed the long cap, revealing a tapering white nozzle.

“Just a little anaesthetic. Hold Liz’s hands while I put it in.”

Sean collapsed flat on his back and yelled in pain as Mrs. Miller held his penis firmly and inserted the nozzle right down the sensitive tube inside it. He could only see her eyes above the mask, and they were concentrating in a way he found totally disconcerting. Then she squeezed the tube, and he screamed in sheer agony as the gel forced its way down inside him like a shaft of liquid fire. He found himself squeezing Liz’s hands until she too yelled in pain.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pain vanished, to be replaced by a blessed numbness as the lignocaine took effect. Mrs. Miller tore open the end of a long plastic pack. Sean groaned in terror as she produced a long, thin tube, whose destination was all too obvious.

“I’m sorry about this, dear, but you have to be catheterized. Everything will swell up after the operation, and we need to keep a path open for the urine.”

At first Sean could hardly feel the tube going up his anaesthetized urethra. Then it reached the end of the numbed area, and a deep, awful pain made itself felt as it traversed more tender tissues. Sean felt himself starting to black out, then suddenly it stopped.

“Right in now. I’m just going to inflate the end to keep it in position.”

She produced a small rubber bulb and attached it to a sort of small side tube, then squeezed it several times before clamping the tube and removing the bulb. Sean reached the depths of despair as he looked at his ravaged organ, the white latex tube emerging from its center.

Then things got all blurred as Mrs. Miller gave him a shot in his butt. His mouth dried up, he felt as though he was floating. Bizarre sexual images of Liz floated before his eyes as the lights in the corridor moved in front of his blurred vision. Then a sharp pain in the back of his hand, and everything faded out.

Liz wanted to stay beyond her shift so that she could be with Sean when he returned, but Mrs. Miller was firm.

“It’s a delicate operation, and it might take a long time. You get home now - you can see him tomorrow. Incidentally, if anyone asks, he is in for a hernia repair - that’s bad enough, but I don’t want either of you girls gossiping about his real problem.”

Liz lay on her bed for a long time, replaying the events of the day. Her feelings oscillated between a sort of maternal tenderness and a hungry sexual desire as she recalled the huge erection pulsing in her hand. She opened her purse and delicately unfolded the paper towel that had been used to wipe the razor, then gently washed the soap from the strands of curly pubic hair before concealing it in a small envelope, hidden securely at the back of a drawer. She felt guilty, almost perverted, but the opportunity had been too tempting to pass up. Whatever happened, she had the most intimate of all souvenirs of the day.

The phone rang. Gemma sounded agitated.

“Tell Mrs. Miller that I’ve come down with a cold and I won’t be in for a week, will you?”


“It’s Robert. I told him that Sean had been admitted to our ward, and he just went ape at the thought of me caring for him. He’s really jealous - if I go back while Sean is there, Robert says it’s all over between us.”

Liz agreed, part outraged that any boy would dictate terms like that, but mainly relieved to be rid of what might have been a rival.

She was early for her shift the following day, attracting a friendly grin from Mrs. Miller.

“He’s fine - sleeping naturally. Light diet today - we don’t want any messy accidents, do we?”

Liz peeked into the room, to find the two girls suitably awed.

“Is it true? Does that tube really go right up his willy?”

Liz followed their gaze. The catheter emerged from between the sheets, terminating in a large graduated bottle which was already quarter full of a yellow liquid. She frowned at the youngsters.

“None of your business, young ladies. More to the point, have you gotten your names in the book?”

Their eyes widened as they solemnly shook their heads in unison.

“I’ll be back with your enemas, then.”

The rattling of the cart awoke Sean with a start, momentary panic overwhelming him as he struggled to recognize his surroundings. He groaned in misery as he saw the cart, and Liz hastened to reassure him.

“Not for you, Sean. It’s for two little girls who didn’t go yesterday.”

It was Sean’s turn to enjoy the spectacle as the two twelve-year-olds received their enemas. This was the closest that he had ever come to viewing female genitals, and he was quite shocked to see that both girls had started to sprout pubic hair. One was shy, but the other seemed positively to enjoy being watched by an older boy as Liz inserted the tube and slowly inflated her with suds. She made no effort at concealment as she slid off the bed, allowing her gown to ride up, fixing Sean with an almost mischievous grin as it did so.

Liz got to hand things as Mrs. Miller inspected and the re-dressed Sean’s incision. His scrotum was swollen like a balloon, purple with bruising as though it had been savagely kicked. Liz winced in sympathy as Sean grunted and groaned - the slightest touch was obviously very painful. She hung about him for most of the day, an expression of concern on her face, until a short sharp dressing down from Mrs. Miller made her skitter about her normal tasks.

Two days later, Sean was bouncing back, delighted at the fact that there were now two bulges where there had been only one before. Mrs. Miller was consulting the book.

“Young Sean needs an enema today. There are too many internal stitches to allow him to strain.”

She thought for a while.

“Use room ten. It’s too much for those little girls.”

Sean was ambulatory, the collecting bag for his urine now strapped to his leg. Liz had learned a lot about the virtues of springing treatment on patients - the first that Sean knew about what was going to happen was when he saw the bag hanging beside a bed. He yelped and hastily unfastened the collecting bag as his prick responded to the very idea of an enema - especially one administered by Liz. His shyness had departed by now - his only problem was the fact that the catheter was becoming increasingly sore and proving quite an inhibition to any sort of sexual activity. As Liz deftly inserted the rectal tube, Sean’s anus seemed to open up to welcome it, and his increasing frequency of groans and twitches revealed that he was actively enjoying the process.

To Liz’s intense disappointment, Sean had vanished when she arrived the following day. A bed had become available in the adult ward and Mrs. Miller had taken the opportunity of removing the offending boy immediately. As the days went by, Liz found herself increasingly miserable - it had been a wonderful dream, but only a dream.

She was alone at home the following Saturday, when she heard a car draw into the drive, followed by a ring of the doorbell. Her heart leapt when she saw that it was Sean, carrying a couple of parcels, looking rather sheepish.

They drank coffee while she opened the first parcel to reveal a huge box of chocolates.

“Just to say thanks to the best nurse in the world.”

Sean looked distressingly awkward as Liz gave him a hug of thanks. She felt a hard object pressing into her stomach, and realized that his shyness was in danger of overcoming any other action. A wave of tenderness overcame her and she sought his mouth, the kiss awkward at first the more than making up in passion for any lack of expertise.

They parted and gasped for breath. Liz looked at the second parcel.

“What’s in there?”


He was blushing furiously. Liz just had to know. She tore the paper open, and revealed the very last object she had expected to see. A brand new enema bag. Sean was starting to panic, his fantasy fading in the hard light of reality.

“What’s this for?”

“Nothing. I’ve got to go now.”

Liz placed herself between Sean and the door.

“Tell me. Tell me now.”

He looked as though he was about to burst into tears.

“I’m sorry. It was a stupid idea.”

Comprehension dawned on Liz.

“Trouble with your bowels?”

“Well… not really. Like I say, it was a stupid idea.”

Liz felt a surging of pure animal lust.

“You need an enema? So you bought a bag and brought it round here?”

Sean was close to tears.

“I said I was sorry. I have to go now.”

She took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom, where she gently undressed the boy. His mood changed to one of total disbelief as Liz stepped out of her clothes as well. They stood, feasting their hungry eyes on each other’s nakedness. Liz broke the silence.

“I’m glad you came. I’m a little costive myself. Why don’t we look after each other?”

His speechless nod conveyed acceptance. Liz wasn’t stopping there.

“And we never did get a good semen sample in the hospital. Maybe we can put that right as well…..”