Shawn

  I was sitting around my living room one evening, just relaxing after a
hard day's work, when my doorbell rang. Getting up from my chair, I wondered
who it might be as I was not expecting any visitors. Upon opening the door,
I discovered a young boy of about nine or ten wearing a blue T-shirt and
shorts. I recognized him as one of the children I had seen playing around
the neighborhood. I had often admired his young body and small rounded rear
end as he ran around the street with his friends. As he stood in the
doorway, I glanced down between his legs and noticed the slight bulge that
his small penis created in the front of his tight shorts. Pulling my eyes
away with some difficulty, I said:

  "Can I help you"

  "Mrs. Taylor says you fix TV's and stuff. I was wonder'in if you could fix
my tape recorder?" The child explained.

  Always eager to help out a neighbor, (especially a cute little boy), I
said "Well, I can take a look at it I suppose. Where is it?"

  "Right here!" He exclaimed, producing a small unit from his pocket.

  "Well come on in and we'll have a quick look at it." I said, opening the
door for him.

  "Gee, thanks mister!" The lad said as he entered my house.

  "You can call me John." I said, taking the initiative for introductions.

  "I'm Shawn." He responded in kind.

  "Glad to meet you Shawn, Do you live on this street?"

  "Yep. About four houses down on the other side. It's the white house with
the green shutters."

  "Oh yes, I know the one." I said, leading the way to the second floor
where I have my electronics shop. "I have my equipment up here." I said as
we climbed the steps.

  Upon entering the room, Shawn's face lit up as he saw my collection of
electronic paraphernalia. "Wow, you sure got some neat stuff!" He exclaimed.

  "Thank you." I said, "I have managed to collect a few things over the
years. Now let's see that tape player."

  Shawn handed the unit to me and I started my preliminary inspection. "WHat
does it seem to be doing?" I inquired.

  "The sound's not very loud, and it's too slow." Shawn explained.

  "Well, it probably just needs a good cleaning." I explained, reaching for
my tools.

  After a few minutes of work, I had the device apart and proceeded to clean
the heads. Unfortunately I discovered that I was out of head cleaning
solution. Well, alcohol works pretty well, so Shawn and I went downstairs to
the closet to get some.

  Upon opening the closet, my heart skipped a beat. I had forgotten to hide
my three enema syringes that I had used the day before during one of my
fantasies! Hoping that Shawn either would not notice, or that he would not
even know what they were, I quickly grabbed the alcohol bottle and started
to close the door.

  When I looked at Shawn, I noticed that he was staring right at the enemas.
Well, I figured he was only a kid, and probably too shy to say anything
about them even though it was now obvious that he knew what they were. But I
was wrong, because right then he said:

  "Do you have kids, John?"

  "No," I replied, "why do you ask?"

  "I saw the enemas in your closet, I thought they were just for kids."

  "Well, " I said trying to think quickly, "I have a young nephew who visits
me sometimes, and once in a while he needs one, so I keep them around."

  "Oh." the boys said. I couldn't tell if he believed me or not.

  "I take it you've had an enema before?" I asked turning to head back
upstairs.

  "My mother used to give me 'um. But not so much any more."

  "Oh, I see." I said. I noticed that Shawn sounded just a little
disappointed about that fact. I figured it could be that he, like myself,
might have enjoyed the enemas his mother gave him. I decided to find out.

  "When I was your age, I used to get an occasional enema myself." I
volunteered.

  "Really?" Shawn said, definitely interested.

  "Yep, " I continued, "usually she would use one of those refillable white
bulbs like I have in the closet there. What kind does your mother use?"

  "Well," Shawn said reluctantly, "she uses both that kind and then
sometimes those ones she buys at the store. I don't like those ones though,
because they hurt."

  "Does she put you across her lap?"

  "Yep, and after she's done, she holds my butt together for a couple of
minutes before she lets me go.

  "Yea," I said, "that's normally how it's done." I noticed that Shawn's
face was a little flushed. Obviously he was still a little embarrassed
talking about this subject. I was surprised that he would talk about it at
all - especially to a stranger!

  While we were talking, I finished cleaning the tape recorder and now
putting the last screws into the back. "There!" I said triumphantly, "That
should do it."

  "Does it work now?" Shawn asked.

  "It should, let's put a tape in and find out."

  The unit worked perfectly and Shawn was delighted. "How much do I owe you
for fixing it?" he asked.

  "Don't sweat it." I replied. "It didn't cost me anything except a little
alcohol, and I enjoyed your company."

  "Gee, thanks John!" The child said.

  "No problem." I replied. "Glad to do it. Let me know if it gives you any
more trouble."

  "Sure. Hey, can I stay here for a while? There's no one around outside to
play with, and I don't want to go home right now."

  "I don't mind." I said, happy that I would have this cute boy for company.
"Let's go downstairs and get something to drink."

  "Great!" Shawn said heading towards the stairs.

  We went to the kitchen where I poured two glasses of Coke, then went and
sat down in the living room.

  "How often does your nephew come to visit?" Shawn asked after a few sips
of his drink.

  "A couple of times a month." I replied.

  "Oh. How old is he?"

  "Seven." I said, wondering how far I was going to have to go with this
story. My real nephew was only a couple months old, and had never visited me
once!

  "Does he like it when you give him an enema?" Shawn asked.

  It was starting to seem that Shawn did indeed have a very strong interest
in enemas. This could be an interesting evening!

  "Not really," I said, "he usually cries a little bit. How about you, do
you like it when your mother gives you an enema?"

  "Well, .... I didn't at first, but after a while, I didn't mind it as
much, it kinda feels neat. Ya know?"

  "Yes, I suppose it does. When was the last time your mother gave you one?"

  "A couple of weeks ago. I told her I had a tummy ache, and she finally
used it on me."

  "Did you really have a tummy ache?" I inquired.

  "Yea, " Shawn said, a little nervously, "it hurt real bad."

  "I see. You don't have a tummy ache now, do you?" I asked.

  "Well, actually, it does hurt a little." Shawn responded, looking at the
floor.

  "Where does it hurt?" I asked him.

  "Right here." he said, pointing to an area around his stomach. "It kinda
feels like it did that time."

  "Maybe you had better go home and tell your mother about it. She should be
able to take care of you."

  "Naw, she won't do anything about it for a while until she says she's sure
that I need an enema."