Andres enema

Andy was easily the cockiest guy on the socker team. Very handsome, well-built, I guest he had plenty to be cocky about.

I was the male nurse attached to the team. He treated me with such disdain -- you'd think I was his servant -- that I thought he needed to be taught a lesson.

"Andy," I said one day when all the others had left, "You're overdue for a physical."

"Can't we do it next week?"

"Not if you want to play in Sunday's game.

Grumbling, he followed me to the infirmary. Everybody had left so there were only the two of us.

"Ok, Andy," I said, "first I must take your temperature."

He took off his shirt, thinking I'd put the thermometer under his arm.

"Sorry," I said, "This new thermometer works only rectally."

His eyes grew bigger as he saw the thermometer I'd prepared for him. It was really a thick syringe with the needle taken out. The diameter was at least an inch thick.

"Mmm...ust I?" he mumbled.

"Only if you want to play in Sunday's game," I said with a smile.

Most reluctantly, he dropped his pants, lowered his blue briefs and lay on the bed face down. I could see his briefs were soiled, in the front and in the behind.

"Guess you get real sweatty out there in the field," I said as I stuck the thermometer up his ass.

He gasped. I pushed it in several inches deep.

"Ok," I said, "I should be ready to read you temperature in twenty minutes."

"That much?" he asked, moving about uncomfortably.

"Yep," I said, "Remember, it's a new thermometer. State of the art."

I sat by his side and watched him suffer through it.

"Ok," I said, pulling it out. "Oops. Looks like you have a fever. Guess we'll have to deal with it."

"What do you mean 'deal with it'?"

"I have to give you a soap enema, champ. It will clean you out."

His face turned red.

"Can't you give me pills or something?" he asked

"Nope," I said. "Of course, if you'd rather not play on Sunday..."

He sighed. "It's OK," he said, "I'll take the enema."

And take it he did, all two liters of it. I stuck the hose in real deep and put plenty of soap. I bet he could hear his ass singing.

"Ah...ah...ah..." he said. He was more humiliated than in pain. But then I saw tears coming out of his eyes and felt sorry for him. I took out the hose and said: "You're done, champ. You can cover up."

"Thanks," he said with obvious relief. Then, as he walked out, he turned back and said very politely: "Thank you very much, sir. I appreciate you got it done so quickly."

"You're welcome, Andy," I said.

Andy had learnt his lesson.