-This is a story I find myself telling repeatedly because I think it's a major event which made me what I am today and because it's so damn funny!

I was eight. I had been having these awful lower abdominal pains. I was able to blunt the pain by cowering in a fetal position but after a couple days this trick provided no relief. Finally my parents noticed my strange posture and they rushed me to the hospital fearing the pain was an appendix bloated with poison about to burst.

At the hospital a doctor poked around and asked questions.

"When was your last bowel movement?"

That was a loaded question! I hadn't shit in two weeks!


You see, I had a big problem with dumping. I was in constant denial of performing the lowly function. Why would a sweet beautiful nubile thing like myself stoop so low as to have a brown cord slipping out of his ass? Let alone be found in such a vulnerable position! OH NO! I wasn't like the rest of them! Or so I tried to make it seem- I would cause myself the greatest discomfort by holding in my crap to keep the illusion. Discomfort? Hell! Here I was in the hospital with my bowels busting at the seems with 2 weeks of petrified shit!

I think it all started with that enormous ham a couple years prior. Easter dinner at Grandma's...I ate a lot of ham and it was trying to make room- so off the bathroom I go- nothing out of the ordinary- just pooping- a normal human function.

...There's a rustling outside. Who's that? Fuck! It's my older brother, Karl and my cousin, Lisa! Oh! Many laughs on their part! They taunted and pointed fingers, giggling, hahahaha. I spazzed out! With my pants around my ankles and my asshole crusted over with fresh shit, I started crying, screaming, "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! ASSHOLES! FUCK YOU!"

From that day forward, I vowed to never let anyone see me in such a vulnerable position! Nobody will ever victimize me EVER again! The hiding of 'doing #2' was now first protocol...sometimes ending in embarrassing episodes:

I was playing Battleship with my brother. The urge to extricate was overpowering, pushing harder and harder no matter how tight I clenched my ass.

"I gotta go piss."...my usual cover up story

At this point the denial was to the point where I couldn't even sit on the toilet. FILTH! GERMS! GERMS! So I squatted above it, did the grueling and disgusting task as quick as possible and went back to my game of battleship.

"What's that smell?" my brother immediately asks.

"What smell? I don't smell anything?" I replied defensively- does he know I just took a shit? Can he smell the residue of shit on my ass?

"Smells like shit." he insisted.

"Hmmm...I don't smell anything."

"Check your shoes."

And sure enough...I had a big blob of shit stuck to the bottom of my shoe! My brother was suspicious and looked outside the room to find brown footprints leading from the bathroom to our room. I guess I didn't position my ass far enough back over the bowl and I shit on the floor. In my haste to make it seem like I was doing #1 and not #2, I stepped in my load and tracked it through the house.

And there I was in a hospital bed with an IV sticking out of my arm and two weeks of crap ossifying in my bowels. The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with me; appendicitis was quickly ruled out because the pain was too low. For the next couple days the doctors scratched their heads, whispering in huddles at the door of my room while the bills piled up for my parents. I knew what the problem was, but I didn't dare admit to it.

Then one morning the doctors decided to take action. A nurse came to my room and explained I must come with her. My mother was nowhere around and nobody told me about this mysterious trip I was about to make. What were they going to do with me?

"Your mother knows all about it, she will be around very soon."...choice words for a child abductor! I knew what was going to happen! This strange slack-jawed nurse! ...eh, but I didn't put up too much of a fight- I wasn't feeling too well. I let myself be put in a wheelchair and pushed into a terrifying unknown destination. Where was my mother? Why has she deceived me?

I was wheeled into a strange room. cold, metal, harsh lights, I'm propped onto a cold slab. A doctor introduced himself with a bone crushing handshake and commanded, "Lie on your side and open the back of your gown."

"Where's my mother?"

Tube inserted into my asshole! Berium pumped in! It actually was so bad with the entertainment: a screen above me showed the progress of the liquid as it moved through my intestines; a white line slowly making twists and turns over the screen.

Afterwards, the doctor seemed very pleased and left the room muttering and scribbling on a clipboard. I was left with the nurse who barked, "GO TO THE BATHROOM! MOVE YOUR BOWELS!"

PANIC! I was able to handle having a foreign substance shot into my ass but to shit in the tiny bathroom in the corner of the room with the nurse standing outside? I insisted I didn't have to go but she didn't believe me, "YOU BETTER GO TO THE BATHROOM OR ELSE ALL OF THE LIQUID WE PUT INSIDE YOU WILL HARDEN LIKE A ROCK! YOU WILL GET VERY SICK!" Good reasoning but I still would not go. I stood in the bathroom for a couple minutes and flushed the toilet, exiting with a phony face of relief. "GOOD JOB." and I was wheeled back to my room.

Oh! So look who decided to arrive! My mother was waiting for us next to my bed. She and the nurse laid me down, put me on my side, opened the back of my gown and stuck an enema in me. In Fifteen I was clumsily running to the bathroom with my IV pole in hand! WHAT A BLAST OF SHIT! MY MORTALITY REVEALED! WHAT A SAD PATHETIC CREATURE I AM! CROUCHING OVER A TOILET! THE SOUND OF EXPLOSIONS REVERBERATING IN THE PORCELIN...FOR EVERYONE TO HEAR! MY ANUS SPUTTERING AND SPURTING A WHITE GOOPY CUSTARD OF BERIUM! ...but oh jeeeesus, what a relief!

First the enema! Then a suppository! Another enema! Over and over! It might have been a hundred of them, I don't know- I lost count after the fifth blast when I asked for a break because my ass was on fire. No time for a break! Over and Over! Squish Squish of the enema bag and the greasy melting of the small hard suppository pellet, maneuvering that damn IV on squeaky wheels, eruptions and high pressure squirtings! The white gunk turned into a steady brown until nothing was left. It was all over. My bowels were empty and clean!

I didn't leave the hospital a brand new boy free of bathroom angst. The humiliation of the hospital fiasco has only intensified the obsession with the abject process. I still can't shit in public. But the funny thing- if I must use a public toilet I get very aroused and almost always cap off my public crap by whacking off. I just can't help it! My cock swells red and I palpitate! Sex and shit are very close together in my mind. I don't roll turds around in my mouth or ask sexy ladies to unload their bowels on my face- it's something different. It's something about the vulnerability of having to obey your bodily needs. Pull down your pants, sit on the toilet. Fancy shoes, striped stockings, plop! plop! It's just stupid and ridiculous.

- Gregory