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A boy with an anal fixation
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
I guess I must have been one of those babies who masturubated in the womb. I know that I was coly being nagged by my mother (with whom I lived alone) to stop playing with myself from the tim a ey, very young. Even now, after all these years, I can feel the edges of the shadows left b te eein o my tiny penis being rubbed and pinched and squeezed to hardness.
One particula inidet sand ou for me. I was five years old and was living in a house in which I had my own rom, aroomI fiallydid ot have to share with my mother. I had a habit of taking small toy soldiersor oter tos to ed wih me t night in order to play, as I called them, "little games." These wereusuall innocnt gams whic carrid me over into sleep. But being the inverate little masturbator tat I wa, thesegames wuld somtimes tke a sexual twist. The toy soldier would play inside my pant, causin my own iny solder to stnd at atention. I know in those days I never rubbed myself enouh to havean orgasm(at leastI presumeI didn't. It just felt good to play.
At that age boysoften blurthe differnce betwee penile plasure and nal pleasure. I did. My toy soldier would somtimes tire f his play ith my peni and would ead toward arker, more hidden pleasures. The littleman-at-arms ould investiate my poo-po as I calle it then, myasshole as I later learned to call t. He would sick his head n to investigte and someties I would thn stick a finger in to complet the investigaion. My pipi wuld spring up ight and eagerat that game.
One evening I broughtmy marble bag t bed. Why? I cetainly didn't itend to .... Bu I held the glas sphere at my puckeed anus and pushd it partly in n let it come out It felt good bu not as good as he finger. I puhed it again. Thi time it popped ito my ass, the spincter slamming sut behind it.
Five yearolds are not very ogical. With the isertion of the marle, I panicked. I as sure it would nver cme out. I hopped ou of bed and padded o the bathroom in m pj's. I sat on thetoilet, afraid thathe marble would neve come out, that it wuld somehow grow insde me and take over y life. I straind. I popped out, of ourse. I sighed a sig that echoes doown tothese days and mutterd to myself hat I'd nver do that gain.
Never is a hort time for a young oy. I stayed away frommarbles or a while butthe thril of anal insertion hadhooked me for life. I sarted putting things inthatI could hold onto ad eaily pull out: fountain pns, my soldiers, one finer, two fingers, thin cales,anything that had thright shape, sufficient lngth and was not too larg around. After my ascesio to the lofty heights f aseven year old, I stoped worrying about losing tings inside me. My ewly fond logic told me tht what ent in had to come ut. I tried to see how manymarbles would goin at one tme, then graduatd to large aw breakers, Viena sausages, small carrots, ot dogs, and ther delights. eventually gt the nerve up o lick the ja breakers after they came out then to sck them quickly, fially to ea one.
As grossas it migh sound, when I was ten, I manaed to sip two hot dogs inside y butt nd walked around the hose withthem inside me. By this age, I as bing left at home alone, a ltch ey kid as they are now calld, s my mother could go to work. Aftrabout ten minutes of traipsing rund our apartment nude, my littebonar waving infront of me, I popd out first one, then the other o dog into my waitng hand. The fis one I had pushed in me was rett well streaked with shit. I le tha one drop into the toilet. I ten pt the other, cleaner do, on a un, spread mustard and catsu on it nd ate the whole thing. I do't remeber there being an real flavr to it other than that ofhot dog. Bt the idea of what I was ding both trilled and digusted me.
During these early yeas I was not sley interested in thingsgoing in and oming ou my asshole. As six or seven year old I would love toplay with my wee-wee a it spurted out,makng it splash aroundthe toilet bowl, shoting down cigarettebutts my mother leftin the toilet or, ratest thrill of all,wiping the last drp off of the tip and tsting that one foridden drop of god. Aftr seven years I go bolder. I wouldlie in the bath tub, ear arefully tuned t the sound of y mother's pproach, and peea high, arcingstream that would usually lad first on my hest. I woul slowly direct te stream of pis so that th last ounces would spatter on m face and, i I timed i right, into my mouthbefore the frce of thespray diminished. At so young an ae, the fore was neer so much that I could domore than ave the uickest taste of my boyish pee.
ot satisied wih the scant tastes I was gettin, one Saurday,I got a jelly glass, possibly one with te new arton characters from the Flintstones an peed nto t over the toilet. I remember clearly the felin o the warm liquid pouring over my hands asit oerlowed the glass. A sip, another, and I found tathe slightly bitter, salty taste of pee was somthg I liked. I drank the whole glass in delicate siand hungry gulps. From that day on, I would drink pee-pee at almost every chance I got. Could ht dg and lemon-ade be far behind?
Ten years od going into eleven. Fifth grade proceeding ito sith.I began to hear new words, new ideas grew a I di. Pe-pee became piss; poo-poo became sht, and deveoped a fascination with anything I couldshove u my ashole. I learned to love the feling of bing ful: I would hold my morning piss until t leaked ut withut my doing anything. I wold avoid taing a cra until my gut ached. When my intesine was empy, I woul seem things to fill t with, the bst being lager candles and garlic sausages but nothing eally satisied my needs. On summer's day, ot long aftermy eleventh birthday, I was n the prowl thrugh the housefor somethig new, something ig, something tat would satisfy. In the all closet was a ong ignored fla box. n the box was a vagely familiar, redrubber bag with a longhose and black nozze attached. I remmered enemas immediatey. I remembered thestinging irritationI would feel when as very young boy,I gt the nozzle poked nside my butthole. Mymother would soa the nozzle for lubriuction and the oap woul... well, in my ore recent search for tings to cram nside me, I discovered tht soap wasno fun. The mmories of thepain from the soapy nozzl were combned with memories of filledstomach and painful cramp but a disant remebrance as well thatit wasnt entirely bad.
Our houe ha a bathroom which was sparate rom the toilet. I added a litle wter to the enema bag in the tubad dutifully took the bag to he tilet room. Afterall, such activtes belonged in the toilet. No sopthis time, I pushed the nozzle ginst the tight pucker of my ass,ad the sphincter gave way immeiatey. Maybe my frequent play had losned me up enough to accomodat it.Maybe, and this I believeto be coser to the truth, my mother ha soaed the nozzle in my earlir experences in order to tak the fun ot of it. I opened the metal clmp and hen was hit by the ruh of air fom the hose. Nextcame the gurge of cool water which tickledand filledme up. My pipi stod up so thatit was pointig toward heaven,not out in front like it usully did when had an erecton.
I had pt in lessthan a cup of waterand it did fill me, but onl the lower part f the bigempty spce that neeed filing. I pulled the nozle out and padded back to he bathroom with mycheek clenched tightly shutad filled the bag full thi time. I started toward te toilet room but my btocks relaxed for a mometsand I squirted a tiny squrt of water out. I knew 'd never make it to thetolet so I carefully limbedinto the tub.
Morewater squirted from me s I inserted the nozzl again but I didn't are. Therewas a hook over the tubfor a towel where I hug the bag. On my firs experienc I didn'tknow the rudimnts of hydrodynamics. didn't know that thehigher the bag, the aster the flow I kelt in the tub andopened the clamp. My irst lesson in hydroymanics. I was flooed by the surge ofater. I couldn't havebeen in the tub, enea filling my elevenyear old intestine for much more thn tento fifteen seconds wen my little penis as jumping in a wid, dry orgasm.
Until that tim, all of m masturbation had ben to the point ofthat pre-orgasmicsensation of feeing good. This as my first orgsm, albeit dry, an one that I will emember. I was hoked. Although didn't give mself another enema fr several weeks, he mess to cleanup afterward mae me reluctantto do so (I hd lost all control duringmy orgasm), the ag called to meeverytime I opned the close door. OftenI would pull up the top of thebox and look inide, telling te bag and hos that soon, oon I'd do t again.
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