Enema punishments happen when naughty boys decide to lie to their mommy.  When I left the kitchen this morning, that jar of cookies was filled to the top.  Mommy couldn’t even close it all of the ways because it was so full.  But then I go back into the kitchen, and now there’s only one left.  You insist that it wasn’t you who took them, even as crumbs pepper the corners of your mouth.  I know I didn’t take them, and daddy isn’t also home.  Still, you insist it was burglars.  I blame your inability to lie well on the fact that you again haven’t outgrown your diapers.

You get punished.  You’re standing there rocking back and forth nervously isn’t going to make me go easy on you.  I gave you every opportunity to tell mommy the truth, but you insist that you have.  So I give up.  You may never come out and tell me that you did it, but you will still be punished for it.  I smirk at an idea that pops into my mind and decides to let you choose between two punishments.  You can either take a spanking or an enema. You’d never heard of an enema, but you most definitely have heard of spankings.  I try to keep a straight face as I order you to your changing spot.

At first, you don’t understand.  You may need to change often, but this was one of the rare times you were dry.  So why did I tell you to assume the changing position?  I disappear for a moment, and you can hear him rustling around with something from one of the closets.  When I come back, I’m holding something you’d never seen before.  I give you one last chance to take a spanking instead, but you vehemently shake your head.

“Alright, then,” I say while trying to stifle my excitement. I’d never done this before to you and couldn’t wait to see your reaction. “Here we go.”

Usually, I’d have warned up the part that goes inside your little bum, but I chose to let the cold, lubed metal send a shock up your starfish instead.  Your reaction was adorable.  Mommy can’t help finding you cute sometimes, but even mommy has to maintain her authority sometimes.  I squeeze something in my right hand and your first lesson on what an enema is officially beginning.

You begin to fill up with warm water.  It feels weird.  You can feel the space back there fill up more and more and more while becoming tighter and tighter.  I can see you blush, and can tell you think it feels kind of nice not necessarily by your blushing, but by the fact that you’re getting hard for mommy.  And you’re right. It is nice…at first.  Until mommy doesn’t stop, at the moment, you would consider yourself comfortably full, mommy pumps in even more water.  Your eyes widen, even your belly starts to show signs of expansion.

“Mommy…I gotta…”

“Nope.”

It’s not recommended I use this much, but want you full to the brim.  Just when you think you can’t take anymore, I plug you up with a butt plug, sealing you uptight.  Then I rest a hand on your tummy. “There. Let’s just leave you like that for a while until you decide to tell me the truth.”

“Mommy, please!”

“I’m waiting.  And trust me, sweetheart.  With that butt plug inside you, it’s not going anywhere for a while.”

Where did I get such a stubborn little son from?  You want to let it all out, don’t you?  What a relief that would be.  This is not what you expected an enema to be or feel like at all.  Are you brave enough to tell mommy the truth yet?  Or are we going to be here for an hour or so?

I’m still waiting for my naughty, diaper boy, to be honest with me so that he can relieve that tight belly.  Are you ready to call my phone sex line and tell mommy what you did?