Assplode Therapy

My friend wouldn’t take no for an answer. He paid the hydrotherapy clinic in advance for six sessions. At first I told myself, I’m not going to do this. Then I decided to call and just ask some questions.

I spent a lot of time on the phone with the resident expert, explaining that I had serious reservations and I was only checking it out to please my friend. I wasn’t convinced the procedure wouldn’t do me harm.

Reading up on it, I found hydrotherapy can hurt people with ulcerative or inflammatory bowel disorders. But the doctor’s diagnosis ruled out those problems, and with my friend urging me on, I went ahead and reluctantly made an appointment.

That’s how I came to be lying on a hospital bed with a thick metal nozzle pumping warm water up my ass for three-quarters of an hour while Maggie, the attractive young woman holding the tube, made small talk about her trip to the cloud forest of Costa Rica. Occasionally she would pinch off the outflow hose, which was very uncomfortable, but it only lasted a minute. Otherwise, it wasn’t terribly unpleasant. It just felt like lying on a hospital bed with a warm and slightly pulsing metal tube up my ass.

After the first session, I felt great. Energized. Wonderful. So I set up the rest of the appointments.

The second time was a let down. I didn’t feel any better, and I had watery poop for a day afterward. Both times I was disappointed that hardly anything came out of me, after my friend’s graphic descriptions. The outflow tube is transparent and runs right next to the bed, so you can see what’s coming out.