there was something real too. It was so hot, the way you
wanted the pain. And I liked giving it to you.”
“Well, you are a top.” Aiden stroked Keaton’s
chest.
“But I’ve never been that kind of top. Whips,
chains, dungeons… boys wearing collars… I’ve done all
that before, but I never got much out of it.”
“We could do it sometimes, couldn’t we? When
we’re both in the mood? Not, like, whips and chains. But
you spanking me, for fun?”
“I think I’d like that.”
Aiden snuggled close to him, and Keaton felt an
overwhelming gladness at having him in his arms. “You
spank hard for such a nice guy.”
“That ass of yours begs for it.”
Aiden’s body tensed suddenly, and he rolled onto
his back, one hand on his stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Keaton asked. Aiden seemed out
of sorts tonight.
“N—”
“Don’t say nothing. You’ve been telling me that all
evening. The truth now.”
“Don’t laugh.”
“Okay.” Keaton was confused.
“I can’t go.”
“What?”
“I can’t—go to the bathroom. I can’t shit.”
Keaton set a hand on Aiden’s stomach. Aiden rolled
away from him and curled into a ball. “How long has
this been going on?”
“Five days?” Aiden said in a small voice.
“I see.”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first. My body’s
just not used to eating regularly, and I thought I just
needed some time… but now it hurts really bad.
Laxatives don’t help much, and I don’t know what to
do.”
Keaton uncurled him, pulling him closer. He
rubbed Aiden’s stomach, and this time Aiden let him,
sighing softly. “It might be a good idea for you to see a
doctor.”
“No! Keaton, seriously, I don’t want to see a doctor
about this.”
“Any particular reason why?”
“I hate doctors. They never help, and I can’t afford
one anyway.”
“Money is not an issue,” Keaton said firmly. “If you
need medical help, you’ll get it.”
“It fucking is an issue! But I wouldn’t want to go
even if I was a millionaire.”
Keaton decided not to press the matter. “You said
you tried laxatives?”
“Yeah, pills or whatever.”
“Suppositories?”
Aiden shook his head.
“What about an enema?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Very serious. It’s the quickest, easiest, and most
immediate solution.”
Aiden’s mouth fell open. “But it’s—But I can’t—It’s
gross
.”
“What makes it gross?”
“What do you think? And it’ll
hurt
.”
“Have you had one before?”
“Fuck no.” Aiden was wide awake and tense now.
Keaton stroked him reassuringly.
“It isn’t painful. It may cause some cramps, but they
won’t last long. And when it’s done, you’ll feel much
better.”
“I think I’ll just wait this out,” Aiden said uneasily.
“You really want to go a minute longer than you
have to feeling like this?”
“It’s better than having a fucking nozzle up my
ass.” But even as he spoke, he curled up with an arm
around his belly as another cramp hit.
“I’ll help you. It won’t be so bad.”
“God,” Aiden whispered. “You’re sure it won’t
hurt?”
Keaton felt a rush of warmth for the boy. One thing
he loved about Aiden was that, even at his most
vulnerable, he never sounded whiny or pathetic. Even at
his brattiest, he was intelligent, thoughtful, and capable.
Now he stared at Keaton, needing reassurance but not
sounding desperate or overwrought. Keaton stroked his
jaw. “It’ll be uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.”
Keaton waited, holding his breath. Aiden had made
a huge stride toward trusting Keaton. But would he
decide to trust him on this?
“Okay,” Aiden said finally.
“Good boy,” Keaton praised.
“Now?”
“No reason for you to keep suffering.” Keaton
climbed out of bed.
“Keaton?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s—This isn’t a punishment, right? For not telling
you?”
“Jesus,” Keaton said, sitting back on the bed.
Aiden hurried on. “It’s just I know some people in
the scene use enemas as punishments.”
“Do you really think I’d do that? Use a medical
procedure that scares you as a punishment?”
Aiden shook his head. “I just don’t always know,
Keaton. I’m sorry.”
Keaton rubbed his shoulder. “This is to help you
feel better. It’s going to be just fine. Wait there.”
Keaton went to the closet in the hall and retrieved
what he needed. In the bathroom, he filled the red rubber
bag with warm water and saline solution. He connected
the tubing and let some of the solution flow onto his
hand, checking the temperature. He grabbed a thick
towel and returned to the bedroom. Aiden lay quietly on
his side, covers pulled up to his chin. Keaton reached
over him and removed the painting that hung on the wall
over the bed.
“What are you doing?” Aiden asked shakily.
“I’m going to hang the enema bag on this hook. It’s
about the right height.” He set the painting on the floor
and hung the enema bag, then snagged some lube from
the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed beside
Aiden, rubbing the boy’s shoulder through the blanket.
“You ready?”
“I really don’t feel well,” Aiden said quietly.
“Let me help you feel better.” Keaton peeled back
the covers.
Aiden shifted. “This is so fucking awful.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you mind?”
“Not at all.” Keaton spread the towel out on the
bed. “Here, lie on this. That way you don’t have to worry
about leaking.”
“Oh God.” Aiden shut his eyes.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“Shh.”
Aiden lay on the towel.
“Good. Bring your knee up toward your chest.”
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“You’re doing fine. There you go.” Keaton stroked
his hip. “Now I’m going to lubricate the nozzle and slide
it inside. Then I’ll start the solution flowing. It’ll feel
strange at first. You’ll feel very full, and like I said, there
might be some cramps. Hold the solution inside you as
long as you can, and then when you’re ready, I’ll help
you to the bathroom.”
“Fuck. Okay. Let’s do this.”
Keaton squeezed some lube onto the enema nozzle,
then lubed Aiden’s entrance, making a soothing noise as
Aiden winced from the cold. “Ready? I’m going to slide
it in.” He positioned the small nozzle at Aiden’s opening
and slipped it in. Aiden’s breath caught. Keaton rubbed
Aiden’s back. “Doing fine. Okay, I’m going to start it
flowing now. Deep breaths. Try to relax.”
“Yeah, right,” Aiden muttered.
Keaton unclipped the tube. There was a slight
gurgling noise as the liquid passed through the tube.
Aiden lay tense and trembling, then jerked suddenly as
the first gush entered him. He was very quiet, making an
effort to breathe deeply. Keaton rubbed his hip and
murmured to him.
“That’s too much,” Aiden said suddenly. “I’m full.”
“About half to go.”
“Keaton!”
“Shh, kid. It’s all right.” He hated that Aiden was
uncomfortable, but he loved that the boy inched closer to
him, wanting his touch, his reassurance.
The bag finally went flat, and Keaton removed the
nozzle. A small amount of water spilled out of Aiden
onto the towel, and Aiden mewled.
“I’m sorry!”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Keaton assured
him. “That’s just what happens when the nozzle comes
out.”
“Now what?” Aiden asked in a small voice.
“Hold it as long as you can.”
“Shit. Fuck, it’s hurting. Keaton—”
“Just a cramp. Breathe through it. It’ll pass.”
Keaton rubbed circles on Aiden’s belly, easing the
tight muscles.
“I have to go,” Aiden whispered.
“Can you hold it just a couple more minutes?”
“I’ll try.”
“Breathe.” Aiden did. “Such a good boy.”
“It’s cramping again.”
Keaton rubbed his stomach until the cramp passed.
Aiden shuddered.
“I hate this.”
“Is it really so bad?”
Aiden nodded.
“You’re being very brave.”
“I’m a wimp.”
“Cut it out.” Keaton tapped his hip. “Being
respectful means respecting yourself—not just me.”
Aiden ducked his head. “Keaton, don’t punish me
now. It’s not fair; I already hurt so much.”
Keaton frowned. His poor brat was lost somewhere.
This experience—the discomfort, the intimacy, the
humiliation were all too much. “Of course I’m not going
to punish you. I just don’t want you attacking yourself.”
“I have to go—really!”
“All right. Let me help you up. Slowly. Moving
quickly can make the cramps worse. That’s it—lean on
me.” Keaton guided Aiden to the bathroom and lowered
him onto the toilet.
“Are you going to stay?” Aiden asked, looking
panicked.
“If you want me to, I will. If you want privacy, I’ll
go.”
“Privacy, please. I really appreciate—I just need—
oh God.”
“No problem. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”
Keaton closed the bathroom door and went back to
the bed to collect the equipment. He was surprised
Aiden had found the experience so intense. Aiden had
experience with many different elements of kink, and
Keaton had assumed the boy had received an enema
before.
The toilet flushed. Keaton heard the shower go on.
Ten minutes later, Aiden emerged from the bathroom,
still pale and a little shaky. He tried to smile at Keaton.
“I feel ten pounds lighter.” He got into bed and curled
up next to Keaton. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Of course. I’ll always give you what you need.”
“Always?” Aiden sounded confused.
“As long as you’ll let me.”
Aiden was silent for a while. “My subletter’s
contract is up next week.”
Keaton felt like a rock had been dropped down his
throat into his stomach. “And you’re moving back?”
“He asked if he could take over the contract and
renew the lease.”
“And you said—”
“I don’t know. I can’t afford the place. But where
else would I go?”
“You could stay here,” Keaton suggested, trying to
remember how to breathe.
“For how long?”
Forever would be nice
. “As long as you want.”
“I still don’t have a job.”
“I still don’t care.”
“Keaton.” Aiden sighed. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t
you get pissed, having me mooch off you? And I’m
really—I keep getting in trouble, and I’m needy and
moody… ”
“I want you here, Aiden. It’s as simple as that.”
Aiden was quiet. “I like it here,” he said at last,
very softly.
“So stay. And we’ll figure things out from there.”
Aiden yawned. “I’m too tired to argue with you.”
“Good. Now go to sleep. We can talk in the
morning.”
Aiden obeyed, tucking his body against Keaton’s
and closing his eyes. Keaton stroked his hair until the
boy’s breathing deepened and he slept.
It had seemed like the perfect solution five minutes
ago, but now Aiden sincerely doubted the wisdom of
what he’d done.
Yesterday he’d finally completed a draft of his
personal statement that he felt satisfied with. Using
Keaton’s prompts, he’d cobbled together a five-hundred-
word overview of his past experiences, goals, and
unique qualities that—while far from spectacular—was
better than anything he’d have come up with on his own.
But when he’d read over the statement today, he realized
there was nothing good about it at all. It sounded
cloying, clichéd, and no admissions director in his or her
right mind would look twice at it.
So he’d deleted the document from his computer
and shredded his only hard copy. It was no worse a fate
than the tripe deserved, except now he didn’t have a
personal statement, and his applications were due in a
week.
He sighed. He didn’t want to tell Keaton.
Really
didn’t want to tell Keaton. But he felt confused and
stressed and angry, and according to Rule Five, these
were all conditions he was required to report.
The lousy personal statement was partly Keaton’s
fault. Aiden hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything
in the last few days except his increasingly puzzling
feelings for the man. They’d gone out to dinner last night
to celebrate Aiden getting the job at Zippy’s Pizza, and