Suppository Punish

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Suppository Punish

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Messes, hotmesses, messy messes, oh my! These are the stories of ridiculousness, hilarity, and completly absurdity from me, the people I know and love, and people I encounter everyday that make me question my sanity.



Suppositories and Spankings: A Mother's Love
My earliest
recollection of what my mother did to me was when I was six years
old. I'll share both that story and six years later when, at 12, it
was the final time.
I was very small for my age and my mother was
quite concerned about this. We lived in the Pacific Northwest. She was
so concerned that she was dragging me to doctors all over the west
coast. In the absence of any real father (although he was around), she
was playing both mother and father. In other words, all decisions
about the childrearing of me and my older brother rested with her.

At the age of six she decided to drag me to California to see a
doctor there. After meeting the doctor mother was told to undress me
which she did down to my underpants. After the usual type of exam, I
was told that they wanted me to both pee into a bottle and to have a
bowel movement. Under the watchful eyes of both my mother and a
strange nurse staring at me, I could do neither. After awhile of no
success I was redressed and as we were leaving the nurse slipped
something into mother's hands. We went back to the hotel.
I got
a lecture about how if I did not do as the doctor told me I would get
a spanking (I had only been spanked once before by my father). She
said she was going to order room service in order to help me have a BM
and if that did not produce the desired results that the nurse had
given her some medicine for me. I was not thrilled by any of this.
She suggested that I lie down on the bed and watch tv until the room
service had come.
About half an hour after we had finished our
hamburgers mother called me into the bathroom. On the counter was the
same bottle that they had had at the hospital for me to pee into.

"Now, young man, you are going to pee into the bottle now and then you
are going to have a bowel movement."
"Well, you are just going to make yourself go."
She kneeled
down next to me and undid my shorts (it was late summer) and lowered
them to the ground. She then moved behind me and pulled my Fruit of
the Loom underwear down to my knees. Taking the jar, she undid the
lid and placed it in front of my penis.
I could not as even at six I could only go in private.
Growing impatient, she pulled back the foreskin
of my penis in the hopes of stimulating a stream. Still nothing.

"You are doing this on purpose," she barked, "just to annoy me."

Without any warning, she flipped the toilet seat closed, put the
bottle aside and flung me over her knees. The spanking seemed to last
forever as I cried and begged her to stop. Finally she did, setting me
back on the floor.
"Now maybe you'll coorperate," she said.

I said that I could probably do it if she left me alone. Doubt crossed
her face but she handed me the bottle and left the room. In a few
minutes I came out, my pants back up, and handed her the filled bottle
of my urine.
"There was no point," she said, "pulling your pants
up as you still have to do a BM."
Taking my hand she dragged me
back into the bathroom, pulling down my pants and underwear and
sitting me on the toilet. I hated this. For five minutes she then
stood there, ordering me to have a BM. Of course the longer she stood
there the less likely I was to go. Frustrated, she marched out of the
room returning with the little package the nurse had given her.

"These are suppositories," she said, opening the box and laying them
by the sink. "They go up your bottom to make you have a bowel
movement. You are going to have one now because I am tired of you
dawdling. And for dawdling when we get done with this you are going to
have another well deserved spanking."
I hardly thought it was
well deserved. She explained to me that I had to be naked for the
suppository and began to unbutton my shirt while I was still sitting
on the toilet. My shirt off, she ordered me to raise my arms in the
air and she pulled my tee-shirt off. Given how hot it was this
actually did not feel bad. Little did I know what was to come. She
proceeded to untie my little tennis shoes and take them and my socks
off. She then pulled the little blue shorts which were at my knees off
and finally my underpants. Of course I had been naked in front of
mother before but for some reason this felt different.
"Stand up
and face the bathtub," she ordered.
"Now spread your
legs as far apart as possible, put your hands on the rim of the tub
and bend over."
Fearful of the whipping I was yet to get (I had
never seen her this annoyed), I quickly obeyed, saying nothing.
I
felt her spread my buttocks wide apart with her left hand. With her
right hand, and without warning, she suddenly applied some cold jelly
to the outside of my anus. In a moment she had some more of this jelly
on her finger and was putting it up inside of me.
"You have to be
lubricated well," she said, "for the suppository to slip up easily and
the bowel movement to come out easily."
She then took her long
finger out of my rectum.
"I'm now going to push the suppository
high up inside of you."
Suddenly I felt this little thing at my
anus and then it and her long finger were going up inside of me. Not
convinced it was high enough up, she seemed to endlessly push it
higher and higher. Finally she took her finger out of me. I was told
to lie on the bed until she told me that it was time to sit on the
toilet.
At first I felt nothing. After about 15 minutes I sort of
had to go and have 30 minutes I had to go real bad.
"You will
keep the suppository in for a whole hour."
Finally after the hour
was up she allowed me to run to the toilet after which I got the much
promised bare bottom spanking. Crying, I was put into bed still naked.

If this had been an isolated situation it would have been bad but
not real bad. However, my mother believed that because I was small I
would, for awhile, need "help" with my BM's. So from the age of that
first experience at six until I was ten I would get a supposity twice
a week. Any efforts to not comply would result in the customary bare
bottom spanking by mother and the threat of her allowing my dad to do
it.
For some reason during the age of eleven she got off the
suppository kick. The following year, at age 12 and in the sixth
grade, I woke up one morning with the feeling of having to go to the
bathroom. Pulling my pjs down, I sat but nothing came. My worst fear
(remembering four years of weekly suppositories) was that I was
constipated.
Trying to pretend that this wasn't it, I got dressed
and came downstairs for breakfast. I didn't really feel like eating
and mother saw this. I forced myself into a few bites. Being warned to
get ready for the school bus, I ran upstairs and once more tried the
toilet. Still the feeling of having to go but nothing coming. Sitting
there I rationalized that, now being 12 years old, if I told her I
thought I needed a suppository she would let me do it
myself. Afterall, I was just starting to sprout hair under my arms and
around my penis. I certainly did not want my mother to see me
naked. (She had not since the last suppository almost 2 years
earlier.)
Forcing up my courage to deal with her, I pulled up my
pants and went downstairs.
"Where are your school books? The bus
will be here any minute. Your brother is ready to go. I swear, why are
you always dawdling?"
I sort of glanced over at my brother, not
wanting to talk about my problem at all but certainly not in front of
him as well.
"Stop this
nonesense," she said, tension growing in her voice. As for me, I was
feeling pretty bad in my stomach area.
Suddenly I blurted out,
"Fine. I don't feel well. I've got a stomachache. I think I'm
constipated and I think I need one of those _d_a_m_n_
suppositories. Alright."
This stopped her cold. I looked over at
my brother who thought the idea of me being really constipated was
pretty funny.
"Enough laughing," she told my brother. "You go
outside and catch the bus. Your brother is going to stay home from
school. As my brother walked toward the door, I was told to go back
upstairs and put my pajamas back on. She was running to the store.

Upstairs I stripped naked and then put on my pajamas. Just the
bottoms as the house was pretty warm. I then laid down and thought
about putting the suppository in myself. I was, afterall, 12 years
old. Not a little kid anymore.
Pretty soon mom came in with the
box of suppositories.
"Ok. Pull down your pajamas," she said.

"Mom, I think I'm old
enough to do this myself."
"Nonesense," she said, taking the
little white bullet out of its wrapper. "You can't get it high enough
up inside you. Now get the pajamas down. Reluctantly I pulled them
down, trying to turn quickly on my side so she would not see my
penis. Upon her orders, I raised my knees towards my chest. As she had
so many times before, she spread my buttocks and quickly shoved the
suppository high into my rectum. Then the phone rang.
"You lie
still," she said (as if I had never been through this before), and she
went to answer the phone just outside my room.
It was my 6th grade teacher. God, I thought, what was she going to
tell her.
"Yes, well I kept him home from school today. He's
constipated and pretty uptight. Yes, I've given him a rectal
suppository."
God, I thought to myself, why was she telling her
this about me. I felt humiliated.
"I'm also going to give him a
good, sound spanking as he told me about this like just before he was
supposed to get on the bus. What? Do you think I should? Well you are
the teacher. Thank you for calling, Mrs. Davidson."
I wanted to
kill her when she came back in the room but I said nothing, knowing
that would only make the whipping worse.
"That was
Mrs. Davidson. She had an idea to help you to relax. Lie on your
back."

"Because I need to do something with your penis."
I was confused
and I did not like this at all. Before I could say anything else, she
was turning me onto my back and taking my pajama bottoms from around
my ankles. I was, once again, totally naked for my mother's
inspection. She then took my penis in her hand and starting rubbing it
while talking to me about hormones, puberty, masturbation. It was a
strange sensation to have her rubbing my penis while the other side of
me was feeling like I had to go to the bathroom as the suppository was
melting up inside of me.
Looking at my now erect penis I could
see some liquid forming on the tip. Suddenly I felt this urge which I
had never felt before. I tried hard to contain but mother, moving her
hand now faster over my penis, told me not to and suddenly some white
stuff came shooting out of my penis. For a moment I felt relaxed and
then suddenly I felt the urge to go to the bathroom. I ran to the
toilet. She followed, watching her young son have his bowel movement.

"Remember, there is nothing to be ashamed of about your body with
your mother," she said.
After getting done in the bathroom I was
taken back to my bedroom where I was put over her knee and soundly
spanked. I didn't cry though like I had always done before. In part
because I was, afterall, 12 years old and, in part, because I knew
that she did all these things because she loved me.



8 Gruesome Medieval Punishments That Will Give You The Creeps
By: Ariel Rodriguez - April 6, 2018
Medieval punishments were horrific ways to keep citizens controlled. Here are some of the most gruesome medieval punishments and inquisition torture devices in history.
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These days, no one's going to punish you for doing magic, but a couple of centuries ago, women were sentenced to death simply because someone pointed at them and shouted, "Witch!" The trials could hardly be called as such because the only thing that could prove someone’s innocence was if they survived the deadly punishment, the court's reasoning being that God would intervene if they were truly innocent. Hanging people was just one of the many punishment methods used at this time. Medieval punishments were creatively evil, and to be honest, I think punishers took their time coming up with these cruel and terrifying methods. There wasn't any kind of written code or law that dictated what offense deserved which punishment. You could get anything from public shaming to decapitation, and there were two different kinds of trials, depending on the crime committed. The non-serious crimes were determined by a jury, and the serious ones were sort of tricky because they were taken to the king’s court, where the trial (by ordeal) almost always meant death. 
This is what I meant when I used the word “creative.” The object really is unthinkable, and it definitely shows someone put some thought into it. The pear-shaped object was used as punishment for the alleged crimes of witchcraft, prostitution, and homosexuality. The metallic object was introduced into either the vagina or anus and as the stem was turned, it would slowly open damaging the insides and causing inevitable pain. The book Letters From The Inquisition cites a case where a woman who received the punishment died from the pain after 27 turns. Read about other historic torture methods : The Ancient Persian Torture Method That Killed Victims With Milk And Honey
This pyramid-shaped stool was a punishment method during the Spanish Inquisition. Offenders sat on the tip of the pyramid (metallic or wooden), which would cause them tremendous pain in the anus or vagina. The punishment could last for hours, or even days, and it was also used for interrogation purposes. Their hands and legs were tied to prevent them from resisting, and weights were added to inflict maximum pain. When they fell asleep, or passed out, victims of this horrible act were woken up by guards. If they didn’t die from the extreme pain, they would usually die from an infection or of virus, since the stool was never cleaned.
Also known as wooden horse or chevalet , this triangular bench with small spikes on it is similar to the Judas Chair. Like the stool, this punishment method originated in the Spanish Inquisition. It consisted on having the person sit down (like riding a horse) fully naked with weights tied to the legs to ensure the tips would pierce all the way through. T he vikings had their methods too: The Bloody Viking Torture Method That Shaped Ribs To Look Like Wings
Although more associated with torture, this wooden bed is one of the most recognizable forms of pain infliction created in the Middle Ages. You’ve probably seen it in a movie. The criminals were laid on the rectangular bed, and their hands and legs were tied up from the ankles and wrists to prevent resistance. Then, the interrogator would question the victim, while the roll that was tied to the robes would rotate, stretching the body parts and causing infinite agony. A later, more modern version of the rack included blades to stretch the spinal cord as well. 
At first glance, you might think this one was less horrible than the previous methods, but you'd be very mistaken. Being sentenced to death in Italy or England, usually meant spending the rest of your life inside this man-shaped cage. The cage was hanged on the streets, so the community would see the criminals as they starved to death, died from the freezing cold or dehydration, or before an enemy would take the opportunity to kill them.
We couldn't talk about medieval punishment without mentioning the iconic stocks, usually implemented for petty crimes like stealing. The delinquents were restrained on the wooden blocks with their head and hands out, or sometimes just the feet. The criminals were placed outdoors where they were publicly shamed, and citizens threw food and rocks at their faces. The method remained incredibly popular for centuries, even during colonial times in America.
Although this method was more of a trial than a form of punishment, it’s worth mentioning because being taken to the king’s court was seen as the ultimate punishment, and all offenders were found guilty. This trial by ordeal consisted of holding a burning iron as the offender was forced to walk – and it didn't end there. After three days, the alleged criminal had to go back to court and show their healed wound as proof of innocence. If the wound showed no progress, they were found guilty.
This was another trial by ordeal that didn't take into account any evidence, or testimonies. Serious criminals were taken to the king’s court, and the delinquents were tied to a chair, and thrown into the water – that's the trial. If they sank, they were innocent. If they floated, they were guilty. Even if they somehow managed to release all air from their stomach and sink, I doubt they had a chance to escape.
As bizarre as they might sound, these methods were really used on people, and the punishments were meant to inspire fear because authorities wanted citizens to think about the consequences of committing a crime, but sometimes people were innocent, and no authority figure bothered to hear their side of the story. It sure makes you appreciate the current justice system, which (usually) listens to testimonies and bases the sentence on the evidence.
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When I was growing up, there was one punishment worse than a spanking. It was reserved for the pet peeve of my mother – if she heard a bad word come out of any of her children, the culprit was in for an old-fashioned mouth washing. These were a threat until I moved out of the house, when I turned 18.
The last one I received at home was when I was 17. No matter how old or young culprit, the procedure was always the same. It started when I came home from school. Normally, the second I walked in the door, I was on the phone with one of my friends. My mother usually worked until 5pm so I usually had a few hours home alone with my brother and sister.
But this day, my mother came home early and heard me say the F-word to one of my girlfriends over the phone. All she had to do was look at me and I knew what to
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