Disclaimer: This work contains graphic descriptions of a punishment
enema. It is not intended for reading or downloading by anyone under the
age of 18. If this subject offends you, do not read on.
Corbet knew he was wrong and deserved to be punished, but that didn't
make it any easier. He sat, for what seemed like hours, in his parents
master bedroom awaiting his fate. The rules were well known to him, but
just this once, he though they could be bent a little bit. But to his
parents, coming home two hours after curfew would not be tolerated under
Finally, he could hear his mother s footsteps in the hallway approaching
the door. Corbet's heart began to race as the door swung open and his
mother walked in the room. "Let's not dilly dally young man, you know
what to do," she said.
"Yes mother," was his only meek reply. As his mother disappeared into
the bathroom, Corbet began to remove his clothing stripping on down to
his underwear. He listened intently and with some trepidation as he
heard the sounds of his mother preparing things for his punishment in
the bathroom. As the sound of the cabinet door closing crept out into
the bedroom, Corbet heard his mother's voice, "Corbet, I am ready for
you now!" With a lump in his throat, Corbet entered the bathroom.
Corbet's stomach began to flutter when he saw the all too common
instruments of his punishment. On the counter of the sink sat the red
rubber two-quart enema bag and tubing. A large white douche nozzle was
placed next to a small jar of Vaseline along with several latex
examination gloves. More ominous was the large pitcher and new bar of
Ivory soap. Corbet felt a hard tug on his arm as his mother positioned
him facing the bathroom sink standing next to the toilet. Tears began to
creep into his eyes as he watched his mother remove the wrapper from the
bar of soap and place it in the pitcher. She then ran the hot water for
several minutes, which seemed like hours to Corbet, before filling the
container letting the water splash directly on the white floating bar.
Corbet's mother set the pitcher down on the counter top and opened the
small bathroom cabinet to remove a roll of toilet paper, which she set
on the back of the commode. Corbet couldn't look away from the pitcher
as wispy trails of soapsuds floated off the bar of Ivory and drifted
through the hot water. His mother swirled the soap in the pitcher with
her finger until the water took on milky white color. She sighed as she
removed the bar of soap and set it on the counter. It s surface was all
bubbly and after sitting in the hot water for several minutes it was
clearly apparent that it softened considerably.
Corbet sniffed as tears began to flow from the corners of his eyes as he
watched his mother pour the contents of the pitcher into the red rubber
enema bag. As bubbles flowed out of the top of the bag and dribbled down
the sides of bulging bag, she put the empty pitcher down and screwed in
the white cap, which was connected to the several feet of rubber tubing.
His mother checked to see that the clamp on the tubing was closed as she
turned and hung the enema bag from the shower curtain rod. Corbet
sniffled again as he saw her take the large douche nozzle and slid it
into the tubing, which now dangled from the bag like a snake.
Turning to Corbet, his mother said, "Now I think we are about ready
young man. Come here!" Corbet took a few steps towards the sink as he
watched his mother pick up a washcloth and wet it under hot running
water. Tears flowed down his face as he watched her pick up the slippery
bar of soap and rubbed it all over the wet washcloth, until a good
lather was created. He watched his mother fold the cloth over several
times before she turned to him and said, "Now open up!" Corbet began to
plead for mercy as his mother grabbed the hair on the back of his head
and forced the soapy washcloth into his mouth. "Mmmmpffhs," was all that
Corbet could say as the horrible taste of the soap overwhelmed his
tastebuds and tears rolled down his expanded cheeks.
Corbet's mother put the lid down on the toilet and sat down. Reaching
over she grabbed Corbet's hand and pulled him directly in front of her.
This was the part that really embarrassed Corbet. Reaching her fingers
into the waistband of his shorts, his mother pulled his underwear down
to his ankles, leaving him naked before her. Corbet's face flushed red
as he fought off the urge to gag from the horrible soapy taste in his
With a practiced motion, Corbet was pulled over his mother's knee with
his bottom high in the air and his young manhood wedged between her
thighs. He sniffed again as he heard her snap on a pair of latex gloves
and he heard the distinctive sound of the jar of Vaseline being opened
and then set down on the countertop. He groaned slightly as he felt his
mother pry open the cheeks of his ass and then experienced the coolness
of a Vaseline coated finger just touch the entrance to his anus. With a
quick thrust, the lubricated finger pushed up his behind and twisted
back and forth several times before withdrawing.
Corbet began to softly sob as he felt the tip of the douche nozzle touch
his lubricated hole. He wiggled a bit as the plastic tube was inserted
deep into his bottom. Corbet's mother then said, "I hope this teaches
you a good lesson young man," as a loud CLICK signaled the start of the
water flow. Corbet's mother kept one hand on his bottom holding his
cheeks together and the nozzle deep up his bottom. The water and soap
rocketed up his backside and burned as it went in. Corbet began to
squirm on his mother s lap and through the soapy washcloth that filled
his mouth came strange unintelligible noises of distress. The cramps
started soon as the warmth of the soapy water invaded deeper into his
colon. The pressure of the water flow added to his distress and soon
Corbet lifted his legs off the floor and trembling, held them straight
When the bag was half-empty, a series of sharp cramps filled his abdomen
and sounds of him sobbing worked their way past the soapy washcloth that
filled his mouth. Twisting and turning on his mother s lap, Corbet's
legs began to slowly kick in the air as if he was trying to run away
from the soapy invasion that filled his bowels. After what seemed to be
a lifetime, Corbet heard the salvation of the bag gurgling dry as the
last drops of the two-quarts of solution filled his backside. With a
CLICK his mother shut the clamp on the hose and with a sharp jerk, she
removed the douche nozzle from his burning anus.
With a sharp slap on his ass that left a distinctive red hand print,
Corbet's mother said, "Stand-up!" and Corbet struggled to his feet.
Standing before his mother who was still seated on the toilet lid,
Corbet's abdomen was clearly distended. His bowels growled in
retaliation to the soapy invasion and his youthful manhood stood half
erect. "I think 10 minutes will be sufficient for you young man," said
his mother as Corbet could only groan past the horrible soapy cloth that
filled his cheeks. He began to sob and moan louder as he watched his
mother set the kitchen timer to 10 minutes and set the clock down onto
The pressure quickly grew in Corbet's belly and soon he was doing a
little silly dance as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other
and then back again. The cramps came in waves and when they hit Corbet
grimaced and bent over slightly while rubbing his stomach in an attempt
to soothe his innards. He clenched his butt cheeks together as tight as
he could as his body trembled while he struggled to retain the solution.
Every tick of the timer echoed through his brain as he fought to retain
the enema and struggled to keep from retching up the soapy washcloth
that filled his mouth with foul flavor.
At last, the bell on the timer rang, but it seemed that it also signaled
a wave of very bad cramps that doubled Corbet over and caused his ass to
tremble as he clenched his cheeks as tight as he could to retain the
fluid. As his mother stood up, Corbet moved into position to sit on the
toilet, but he was quickly rebuked. Corbet cried with big sobs as he
watched his mother go to the bathroom cupboard and take out the
porcelain bed pan and set it on the floor in front of the commode. Bad
boys don t deserve to be comfortable, said his mother as Corbet sat down
on the pan.
Corbet's mother pulled the washcloth from his mouth as he made a
horrible face in reaction to the foul taste that filled his mouth.
Corbet's bowels growled and groaned, but Corbet's embarrassment of
sitting on the bed pan in full view of his mother seemed to prevent him
from gaining relief from the invading waters. He sobbed and watched his
mother clean the enema bag and put things away as the cramps continued
to rack his midsection. Finally, as Corbet's mother left the bathroom
and closed the door, his backside erupted and the foul liquid flowed
from his bowels.
Ten minutes later, Corbet's mother re-entered the bathroom and handed
the youth a roll of toilet paper and told him to clean-up and head for
bed. Before she left the room, she filled a bathroom glass half full of
warm water and walked out into the bedroom. Corbet cleaned himself off,
emptied the bedpan and cleaned it before replacing it back into the
cabinet. He then rinsed his mouth with the half glass of warm water,
which only seemed to refresh the taste of the soap.
Corbet walked out into the bedroom and was handed his underwear by his
mother. As he put his shorts on, the cramps from his bowels stilled
caused him considerable discomfort. Picking up the rest of his clothes,
he heard his mother say, "I hope this has taught you a lesson," to which
he replied, "Yes Mother!" Corbet went to bed and finally fell to sleep
as occasional cramps swept through his stomach. He tried to eat a piece
of candy in his room, but it didn't begin to mask the taste of soap that
lingered in his cheeks.
The next morning at breakfast, Corbet still could taste Ivory soap in
his mouth as he ate his corn flakes. As he put his coat on to go to
school, his mother gave him a big hug and told him how sorry she was
that she had to punish him, but that it would make him a better person.
Corbet again thanked his mother as he walked out the door knowing that
she was right.
All portions of this story are fiction. Any resemblance to persons
living or dead is purely coincidental. This work is copyrighted 1996 by
Uthur and is intended for non commercial free distribution. No part of
this work may be reprinted, modified or distributed for a fee without
the written permission of the author. Any redistribution of this
material must be in its entirety with this disclaimer attached.