Lorraine's Brown Dares

"No, no, no. You put it in your mouth like this; with the end pointing down."

I watched as the young woman showed me how to pop a suppository into my mouth, before handing me three of them and gesturing for me to do the same. I was feeling more than a little embarrassed about all this but she was so nice and was being patient with me so I figured "why not" and went along with it.

She'd just given me a quick lesson on the different types of enemas, explaining that sometimes you needed one to be inserted into your rectum and other times you needed one to be inserted into your vagina. She told me that if I get a female helper she should use an enema tip - shaped like a little penis - in my vagina as it would be more hygienic than using a syringe.

She also explained that they could be used while you're awake or asleep and that sometimes people actually enjoyed having enemas. They could even be used as part of sex play and that some people even used them to get high. Apparently there are some drugs you can mix in with the water to make it taste disgusting so you'll throw up and then you take the drug again and then you start vomiting again and so on and so forth until you've got yourself hooked on this bizarre cycle of puking and taking drugs.

After filling up her large stainless steel enema bucket with hot water from the sink she had led me over to the toilet bowl. She'd opened up my legs, held onto my ankles, slid down my panties and gently guided me over the rim of the bowl. She let go of my ankles to pull out the plastic bag full of warm water which contained three suppositories - one purple, one blue, one yellow - which she then popped into my mouth one at a time while I stared at her blankly. After washing her hands she squatted down behind me, pulled aside my skirt, grabbed hold of my plastic panties' waistband and yanked them down below my knees leaving them bunched around my feet.

She then proceeded to make a hole in each end of the plastic bag with her scissors before gently pushing it into my anus. The plastic tasted horrible but I didn't want to throw up because I didn't want her to think I wasn't holding up my side of our bargain. Although honestly I couldn't really see how swallowing three suppositories was going to be considered an appropriate punishment for getting completely wasted at a bar last night and stripping off in front of everyone while singing "Pour Some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard while riding around on top of motorbike which had been temporarily converted into something akin to Mad Max's car by way of Tim Burton's twisted imagination.

I'd told her about how I'd ended up singing "Pour Some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard after too many drinks when we were having dinner earlier tonight but now that I thought about it maybe she hadn't believed me when I told her about how much I used to love Def Leppard back when I was younger because who really likes Def Leppard these days? She seemed nice though and she was helping me out so who cares if she didn't believe me? And besides, why would anyone lie about something like that anyway? It's not like lying about singing "Pour Some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard is gonna get someone arrested or anything right?

* * *

My name is Lorraine Moorehead but everyone calls me "Lorri". My dad called me Lorri but he died when I was five years old. He had always called me Lorri but he kept insisting on calling his new wife Lorra instead which drove her crazy because nobody calls women Lorra anymore. My mom eventually gave in though because dad kept pestering her about it but only after he promised never to call his new wife Lorra again once they'd gotten remarried and moved out west where they could live among God fearing people who don't fall victim to Satan's temptations whenever they turn their backs for a moment. That's what mom said anyway; that Satan uses distractions to lure us away from God's light so we can serve him instead.

Mom married Royce after dad died but Royce didn't stick around for very long because he wasn't happy living under mom's rules about no TV or music unless it was played softly through speakers which were hidden inside small bookshelf boxes lined with sound proofing foam cutouts shaped like flowers or whatever mom felt like cutting out at the time (she did this often). Mom said Royce liked rock music because Satan can hear our thoughts better when we listen to music loud enough that it hurts your ears, and Royce said he didn't care what god thinks anymore because he already served Satan since he was ten years old, just like all those other rock stars we see on TV these days who dance around in their underwear while they