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Davey couldn't conceal the blush on his face as he walked towards his apartment with his little brother in tow. He'd noticed that Jack had seemed a little off that morning, but he hadn't expected his selling partner to confide something so personal to him.
"I ain't crapped in days," Jack had said, after leaving an outhouse and pulling Davey aside during their route that afternoon. "You're smart, Dave. You got any ideas on how I can get it out?"
The question had startled him. Davey was still getting used to being around a group of boys who were so open about their bathroom habits. He and Les were raised to be quite the opposite. However, the taboo nature of the topic was not going to keep him from helping a friend in need. Especially one he cared so deeply about.
"I know a solution, but you're not going to like it," Davey had told him.
"I'll try anything," Jack had insisted. "My stomach's killin' me."
And so, here Davey was—walking through Manhattan with rosy cheeks as he thought about the intimate procedure he was about to perform on his best friend.
When he reached his apartment, he left Les in the hands of his parents and quickly gathered the supplies that he needed. Once everything was discreetly tucked into his newspaper bag, Davey started back towards the lodging house where his patient was due to be waiting for him.
Davey arrived to find a handful of newsies hanging around outside. Walking past them, he entered the lodge and took the stairs to the second floor. As expected, Jack was resting on one of the bunks in the otherwise empty bedroom.
"Did you try going again?" Davey asked, though he could already tell by looking at him that Jack was still in discomfort. But, he wanted to remain hopeful that the equipment he'd brought could just stay inside his bag.
Jack sighed. "Yeah. Still nothin'."
"Well, I brought something that will fix that," Davey explained. "Let's go into the bathroom."
Jack's eyebrow quirked, but he stood and followed him anyway.
The shared bathroom at the newsboys' lodge was a long, narrow room. Walking in, a row of sinks lined the left wall and to the right was a row of toilets, each of which were hidden behind a thin curtain that separated them from the rest of the room. The space was divided by an open aisle in the middle, just sizable enough to accommodate multiple boys constantly coming and going.
Once the two were inside the bathroom, Davey closed the door behind them. Slowly, he set his bag on the floor and removed from it a cylindrical, metal object with a wooden handle at one end and a pointed tip at the other.
"Have you ever used one of these?" Davey asked cautiously.
Eyes wide with curiosity, Jack shook his head.
"Do you know what it is?" He could feel the warmth returning to his cheeks.
Jack shook his head again.
"Um...," Davey knew what to say, it was only a matter of saying it. "This is a clyster. It's a medical instrument used to administer medicine."
Jack nodded.
"Or, like in this case," Davey continued, "it can be used to cure constipation by delivering fluid into the colon, which softens waste and then flushes it out."
Confused, Jack stared back at him blankly. "So... How does...?" He trailed off.
It was time to rip off the bandage. Davey held up the pointed part of the mechanism. "This end goes inside your butt," then he maneuvered the handle on the other side, demonstrating how it moved up and down like a piston, "and I'll use this to pump warm water into you."
Now, Jack was as white as a ghost. "I-it's alright, Dave, I don't— You don't gotta—" he stammered, taking a few steps backwards.
Davey could tell he was afraid. "Look, I know it sounds intense, but it's really not that bad," he promised. "And it works."
"You've...?" Jack started, still a bit stunned.
Understanding the unfinished question, Davey nodded, his cheeks glowing brighter. "A few times. Me and Les both. Our Mom uses this when we go too long without going."
That seemed to ease his nerves a little. Jack appeared to be warming up to the idea. "Does it hurt?" he asked, hesitantly.
"No," Davey was quick to respond. "I won't lie—it's uncomfortable, but it doesn't really hurt. You'll feel a lot better afterwards."
He still seemed slightly unsure.
"We don't have to do it if you don't want to," Davey reminded him, "but this is the only thing I know of that's guaranteed to make you go."
After giving it some more thought, Jack let out a sigh. "Okay. Let's do it." He was trying his best not to show it, but he still looked quite nervous.
Normally, when Davey was in Jack's position, this treatment would be administered while he was lying on his bed. He thought about taking Jack up to the rooftop so he could be in the comfort of his own bed too, but he needed to be in close proximity to a toilet, so that wasn't going to work. "I think we have enough space to do it in here on the floor," Davey suggested, gesturing to the open area between the sinks and the stalls. "I know it's not very comfy, but it's more private than the bunk room."
"But what if someone comes in here?" Jack asked shyly, his voice lowered.
"Everybody's outside," Davey assured him, "and this won't take very long. It'll be fine."
Jack trusted him. At Davey's request, he fetched an old towel and watched as it was spread out on the floor in preparation. Then, with Davey instructing him, Jack removed his trousers and lowered himself onto the towel, laying on his side with his knees bent up to his chest. His entire ass was now on display. Davey reached for his bag again. After emptying its remaining contents, he offered it to him to use as a pillow.
"Alright, Jack, I need to lubricate you first, okay?" Davey asked. He spoke softly and simply—the same way he would if he was explaining something scary to his little brother—to help keep his friend at ease while in this vulnerable position. "I'm just gunna put a little bit of olive oil around your opening with my finger."
Jack groaned in annoyance. "You didn't tell me about that part!"
"I'm sorry, Jack, I have to do it or the clyster will hurt going in."
He sighed begrudgingly. "Fine. Make it quick."
"I will," Davey promised as he began pouring some of the oil he'd brought from home onto his index finger. "Are you ready?"
Jack hummed in response.
Very carefully, Davey lifted Jack's ass cheek with one hand and used the pad of his finger to spread the lubricant around the outside of his anus. Jack shuddered, shrinking away from him. Davey placed a firm hand on his hip to keep him in place.
"I know it feels weird," he empathized. "Just a little more."
Another round of oil was then applied to his finger and, subsequently, to Jack's back door. Davey couldn't help but notice how tight his asshole felt. That didn't bode well for the events ahead.
"Okay, this is going to feel even weirder," he warned, "but I need to get some of this inside you."
Jack said nothing. The blush creeping all the way down to his ass cheeks spoke for him.
"Now, on the count of three, I want you to push like you're on the toilet, okay?" Davey instructed. "Then, you're gunna feel my finger."
Jack buried his face into the canvas bag beneath him. "Just do it," he murmured.
Using his left thumb and index finger, Davey gently spread Jack's cheeks to open him up a bit. "One, two, three, push!"
At that, Jack bore down and grunted as the tip of his finger pushed its way into him. Even with the slick oil coating his skin, Davey was still experiencing some resistance as he attempted to enter him.
"Ehmmm!" Jack whimpered, clearly irritated.
Davey removed his finger. "Sorry, Jack. I think I need to use a bit more."
Jack huffed out a breath he'd apparently been holding as Davey applied a very generous amount of olive oil to his finger.
"Alright, let's try this again. One, two, three, push!"
This time, it was easier getting past Jack's anus, though it was still quite a tight squeeze. Davey worked quickly to spread the lubricant around the walls of his rectum, trying his best not to hurt him or stretch him too much.
"Ugggh," Jack groaned in discomfort, beginning to squirm.
Davey steadied him again with his other hand. "You're doing good, Jack," he cooed. Luckily, he didn't feel any shit yet, which meant that he didn't have to remove any manually. He knew from experience that Jack wouldn't have enjoyed that—it was not pleasant. If he would have gone in a little deeper, he probably would have found some, but he didn't want to risk making Jack any more uncomfortable than he already was. Though, he did make sure to go in far enough to thoroughly prepare him for the clyster.
"Aghhh, Dave! It— Nnngh!" Jack whined.
"I know, I know. Almost done," Davey soothed him.
Under their voices, the two of them missed the sound of the bathroom door opening.
"Jack? Davey? What's goin' on?" They heard from the doorway.
Davey—who, thankfully, was stationed between the intruder and Jack's naked ass, protecting Jack's decency with his form—whipped his head around to see Crutchie approaching them. Confusion and concern were evident on his face.
"Oh! Crutchie!" Davey shrieked. "Don't worry, everything's fine." He removed his finger from the other boy's rear, a maneuver he hoped would be subtle, but another pained moan from Jack brought a lot of attention to it.
"What's wrong with Jack?" Crutchie asked, clearly upset by the sight of his friend in pain. Before anyone could stop him, he was crouching down next to Davey, now with a completely unobscured view of Jack's bare butt.
Redder than a tomato, Jack hid his face behind his hands.
"He's okay," Davey assured him. Then he lowered his voice. "He's just having a hard time going to the bathroom is all."
That still didn't explain all the strange equipment laid out on the floor. Crutchie gazed at the unfamiliar objects inquisitively.
"I'm giving him a treatment that will fix that," Davey explained further. "He'll be alright."
Crutchie nodded solemnly. "Is there somethin' I can do to help?" He asked.
"I think I've got it all taken care of," Davey insisted, hoping that he would leave them to the little privacy they had before. But then he thought of something. "Actually, Crutchie, do you think you can stay and comfort him?" Now, he was whispering. "He's pretty nervous and this might be a little painful."
Crutchie nodded again with wide eyes. "Sure, 'course I can."
Davey showed him the clyster and described the procedure.
"Ey, what are you'se whisperin' about over there?" Jack finally spoke.
"Crutchie's gunna stay and help out," Davey responded, at a normal volume this time. "Is that okay?"
Uncovering his face, Jack looked up at Crutchie, who smiled at him softly. He returned it with a sheepish grin of his own.
At Davey's suggestion, Crutchie moved to the other end of the room. He sat on the floor and delicately lifted Jack's head into his lap.
"I'se sorry you ain't feelin' good," he sympathized.
Jack uttered something indecipherable in response.
Crutchie slipped his fingers up the back of his hat and started lightly playing with his hair. "Does your belly hurt?"
"Yeah," he mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning into his touch.
"Awh, don't you worry, Jack. Me and Davey's here to help ya."
Meanwhile, Davey took the clyster over to one of the sinks and began filling it with warm water, making sure that it wasn't too hot or too cold. Next, he coated the tip of it with an abundance of oil. Once everything was ready, he resumed his position on the floor.
"After the tip is inserted, I'll start pumping in the water," Davey explained, reiterating the same spiel his mother had delivered to him and Les the first time they went through this process. "It might feel a little strange but it shouldn't hurt, so let me know if you experience any pain. I'll go slow and we can stop and take breaks whenever you need to, okay?"
"Okay," Jack answered in a small voice, resulting in a couple pats on the back from Crutchie for encouragement.
Davey parted Jack's cheeks like before, but wider this time so he could see his anus clearly. Very precisely, he lined the pointed end of the clyster up with his opening. "I need you to push again for me as it goes in. Ready? One... Two... Here it comes... Push!"
As instructed, Jack pushed hard against the foreign object. The narrowest part entered him with ease. As the diameter of the tip—plus the length of it that was inside of him—gradually increased, he seemed to grow more uncomfortable.
"Oonh," Jack moaned, just as Davey finally got the instrument settled into a good position.
"Fantastic. See, that wasn't so bad," Davey commented.
Jack scoffed.
"I'm gunna let some water in now, okay?" Davey announced.
Jack's body tensed as he braced himself for it.
"You can do this, Jack," Crutchie whispered to him, offering his hand to hold for support. Jack squeezed it tight.
"Deep breaths," Davey ordered as he slowly began to push the handle into the barrel of the clyster, sending a light stream of water into Jack's rectum.
He reacted with a flinch and a shrill gasp. Quickly, Crutchie placed an arm around his shoulder to hold him in place.
"Careful. You don't want the clyster to fall out," Davey cautioned. He let up on the handle until Jack calmed down some. "You're doing great. Let's try a little more."
With Crutchie quietly commending him and rubbing his back, Jack took in a lot more water this time before stirring again.
"Agh! Ow! Wait!" He cried out.
Davey stopped the water instantly. "What's wrong?"
"Stomach cramp," Jack muttered through gritted teeth.
Crutchie looked up at Davey, panicked.
"Oh, that's normal," he assured them. "I probably should have warned you about that."
"Yeah, thanks a lot," Jack said resentfully.
"I did tell you it would be uncomfortable," Davey defended himself. Then his voice softened again. "Just try to relax and breathe through it, okay? Tell me when you're ready to continue."
Crutchie rubbed his abdomen tenderly to help ease the pain. Another minute or so went by before Jack gave Davey the go ahead. They had to stop again soon for another round of cramps to pass, but after that he took the entire rest of the water without any more breaks. It was a struggle, though. Jack was getting restless towards the end, constantly letting out whines and whimpers despite himself.
"Just a liiiiittle more water, you're almost done," Davey cooed.
By the time the clyster was empty, Jack had tears in his eyes and Crutchie was cradling his top half in a comforting hug.
"Excellent job, Jack!" Davey exclaimed with pride. "And congratulations, the worst part is over. Now, we just need to wait ten minutes for the water to do the trick and then you'll be able to use the toilet. I'm going to remove the clyster now, so once that's out, you'll need to clench tight to keep the water in, alright?"
Jack answered with a tired hum.
Carefully, Davey pulled the tip out of him, setting the device aside to be cleaned later. Jack squeezed his ass closed as he was directed to. The other two boys helped him stretch out his legs and roll onto his back in an attempt to make him more comfortable. Jack's face twisted as the cramps persisted in his abdomen. Gingerly, Davey rubbed light, steady circles on his tummy, trying to soothe them. That always felt nice when he was the one in that position. Beneath his hand, Davey could feel the contents shifting around in Jack's distended belly.
While he did that, Crutchie pulled off Jack's hat and continued gently combing through his friend's sweaty hair. To distract him—and also to try to get him to smile—Crutchie entertained the group with some silly impressions of the other newsboys while they waited. This worked almost too well because when Jack finally started to chuckle, some water leaked out of him onto the towel.
He gasped again. "Shit! Guys! Nnnngh, it's comin' out!"
Jack was really struggling to hold on now, but he still had a few more minutes to go. Quickly, they got him back onto his side. Davey held some toilet paper against his opening to help him hold everything in. He noticed that Jack's asshole had dilated a lot since he'd last observed it and, through the paper, Davey could feel a solid mass pushing against it trying to escape.
"Just a couple more minutes, Jackie, you can do it," Davey coaxed.
Jack buried his face into Crutchie's thigh, clinging tightly to a fistful of the blond boy's shirt until all ten minutes had finally passed.
Together, the other two helped him to his feet and over to one of the toilets, careful not to let anything else leak out of him until they got there.
"Alright, Jack, you can relax now and just let it all out," Davey informed him as they got him seated. "Take your time," he added, patting his shoulder.
"Good luck, Jack!" Crutchie chimed in, following Davey out of the stall.
Before they could even finish closing the curtain, they heard a rush of water flowing into the toilet. However, soon that sound was replaced by silence.
"It ain't comin' out!" Jack shrieked.
Not knowing what to do himself, Crutchie nervously looked to Davey for a solution.
"You may need to push a little, but don't strain too hard or you'll hurt yourself," Davey advised. "Take your time, Jack," he reiterated through the curtain.
The two listened anxiously as Jack gave a strong grunt accompanied by a few more drips of water.
"Oh, fuck! It's huge!" Jack yelled frantically.
Davey winced, having somewhat of an idea of what he was up against. "Awh, I know, pal. That's what happens when you let yourself get backed up that bad."
Another loud grunt was heard. Then came a yelp followed by a pitiful whimper.
"What's wrong?" Davey fretted.
"Is it comin' out?" Crutchie asked.
"Yeahhh," Jack answered in a strained voice. "But it hurts!" He cried out, his whimpers turning into full-on sobs
Crutchie couldn't let him suffer in there all by himself. Wasting no time, he flung open the curtain and was standing at his side. "Oh, Jack! Please don't cry!" He used his sleeve to mop up the tears that were still accumulating on his face.
"I-I just want this to b-be done with," Jack bawled.
Now, Davey was there next to him too. "It will be over soon," he promised, rubbing his shoulder. "Do you mind if I take a look at your progress?"
With a pained groan, Jack bent forward, once again exposing his back end to his friends.
Davey looked behind him, expecting to see some waste piling up in the bowl. However, the toilet was empty. A thick log of shit was sticking out of Jack's stretched asshole, making its way towards the bowl very slowly. The treatment had definitely softened it, but Davey instantly understood why passing it was causing his friend so much distress—it was huge.
Crutchie saw it too, letting out a sympathetic whistle.
"You're doing so, so great, Jack," Davey soothed, trying his best to keep his voice calm. "Let's try another push, okay?"
Both boys offered one of their hands for him to hold as he bore down again hard.
"UMMMMMMGH!"
They watched over his shoulder as the massive obstruction grew a few more inches in length and their friend's poor anus struggled with its diameter.
"Easy, Jack," Davey cautioned.
Jack ignored him, pushing again. "NNNNNAAAAAGH!"
With that, the rest of the log shot out and into the bowl at long last. But once the main blockage was out of the way, there was still more to come.
"Agh! Oh! Nnngh!" Jack moaned as a torrent of water and waste relentlessly cascaded out of him.
Davey checked him again, watching as several chunks of shit in varying sizes forced through Jack's asshole and landed atop the large log in the toilet. "That's good, Jack. Just let it all come out," he encouraged.
Jack's tears intensified again as the waves continued to pour, clutching his stomach and gritting his teeth against the pain in both his ass and his belly.
"It's okay, pal, we'se got ya," Crutchie comforted, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders.
Davey also joined the hug, stroking his back with one hand and his thigh with the other. "I know this part ain't fun, but it's almost over."
Suddenly, the water stopped flowing and Jack became distraught. "Mmmmnn! Unngh! No!" He shouted in frustration.
Taking another look, Davey discovered a new solid obstruction blocking his exit. "It's alright, you're alright," he reassured him. "You can do it."
Jack strained again forcefully until a loud splunk was heard beneath him. His friends cheered for him as the stream of liquid resumed, now carrying a bunch of soft, mushy shit with it.
After a little while longer, Jack's tears subsided as the water began to run lighter and clearer. Eventually, it stopped completely. He sighed with relief as the last few drops finally trickled out of him.
"All done?" Davey asked.
"Think so," he mumbled back.
Crutchie handed Jack some toilet paper. It took quite a few wipes for him to feel clean. Once he did, he stood and let the others help him back into his trousers. They didn't even try flushing the toilet, they just continued towards the sinks to wash their hands.
"I'm real glad you're okay," Crutchie said, hugging Jack one more time.
"Yeah," he responded stoically. "Thanks, Crutch."
Then, Crutchie ventured into another stall to finally take care of his own business like he'd originally come into the bathroom to do. He told the other boys that he would handle flushing Jack's toilet when he was done.
In the meantime, Davey led Jack up to the roof so he could lay down for a bit. He looked exhausted. Neither of them said a word to each other as they climbed to the top of the building.
"Do you feel better now?" Davey asked, breaking the silence.
Jack remained quiet as he crawled into his bed.
"Please talk to me, Jack. I need to know that you're alright."
"That was horrible," he confessed, avoiding his friend's eyes.
"I know. I'll admit that I kind of sugar-coated how bad it is," Davey revealed. "I'm really sorry, it's just— I knew you wouldn't want to do it but I knew how much you needed it, so I—"
"Dave," Jack interrupted, "I get it. It's fine."
"You're not mad?"
"'Course I ain't mad, you'se right," he said. "Thanks for what you done." Jack offered him a small smile.
Davey smiled back. "So, you're okay?"
"Yeah," he sighed, "I'm just... I'm a little embarrassed is all."
"Well, if it helps, you handled that a lot better than I did my first one." Davey blushed again.
"Nah, you'se just sayin' that," Jack laughed.
He didn't argue. "Well, either way, I'm really proud of you."
"Shut up," Jack playfully punched him, then disappeared under his blanket.