No dignity left. That’s right- tomorrow morning I will once again go before the ass man but this time sedated. This time, unaware of what is happening, nor when to clinch.

And it should happen as it will– sharting on his table or worse, after his tools come from my arse.

You see, I’ve barely eaten in days- prepping to empty my bowels and for days I’ve been stellar. Nothing happening other than the standard sissying.

That was, until today. Somewhere out of nowhere, it began… think: newbornish. Several times today what I mistook for some gas was the entire chamber. Thrice I made the same mistake- so I tried to eat all the bread I could find.

And as luck should be for me… I realized the bread I inhaled was Keto bread. Meaning, the bread that I ate, was fraught with fiber- more fiber in one tiny, matzah- tam-tam sized piece to create lava just in time for my 6am fiss-eroctomy.

Not only have I tried for this rectal professional to not see what’s going on in that area, but now he’ll slip and slide trying to ease my physical pain.

Worse, in 6-weeks and then 12, I’ll have to drag my mortified being to his office right about the time he’d be able to move forward with his career.

CALGON MY ASS!