Enema StoryI am a 43 year old female anal erotic. This is a journaling of my introduction into the world of anal eroticism. I can recall my first anal induced ******* occurred when I was in eighth grade. My parents are very wealthy and sent me off to an all girls boarding school in the South rather than deal with my rebellious teenage bullshit. I lived in a dorm with students my age and older, up to high school seniors. The older students were supposed to act as sort of big sisters to the younger kids, although there was always the role of superiority and quasi-dominance that came into play. They called it "respect".
The dorm rooms were much like two hotel rooms back to back, only with a large common bathroom between allowing access from either room. The bathroom had a shower/tub as well as a large multi head shower booth. There was a doublewide marble vanity with a full width mirror and a potty.
One morning, I was feeling a need to exert my independence and decided to skip my first class and get some sack time instead. I rolled out of bed about ten o'clock. Feeling kind of hungry, I went out into the hallway to get a candy bar out of the snack machines. I was trying to be as quiet as possible lest I garner the attention of the house mother whose suite was across the hall from the vending area. Klink, klink, klunk. The vending machine dispensed the chocolaty snack.
Suddenly, my attention was drawn to the sound of a door being unlocked and before I could duck out of site there stood Broom Hilda aka house mom. Damn. Busted. She inquired as to what I was doing and why I wasn't in class. I always prided myself on my ability to think on my feet so I stammered out something about not feeling good, sick to my stomach; yes that was it. She glared at the recently dispensed candy bar in my hand and inquired as to my intent. Before I could reply, she grabbed my arm and directed that I visit the school nurse immediately. I was marched to the clinic location where I was turned over to the student assistant Beth, a senior I recognized from the adjacent room I shared a bathroom with. She was interested in a career as a health care worker and assisted in the clinic as a practicum. She inquired as to the nature of my illness, and I stuck to my story so as to not get into any further trouble. I explained that I wasn't feeling well, my stomach didn't feel right. I was taken to an exam room where I was told to take my clothes off and put a skimpy paper gown on. I tried to indicate that all that attention was not necessary, and I was feeling better already. Beth invoked her role as a senior and explained that the school had a policy to check out all medical complaints and it would be wise for me to shut up and do as she said.
I shed my clothes and unfolded the gown, awkwardly trying to figure which appendage went in what hole. The rough paper scratched against my nipples made hard by the coolness of the exam room. What a curious feeling. I hopped up on the table and waited for the doctor to appear. After about fifteen minutes, the doctor appeared and introduced herself. She inquired as to the nature of my stomach ailment and as I explained how much better I was feeling, the subject of my eating habits came up. Apparently the tale of the vending machine preceded me. She invited me to lay down on the table and began her exam. She pressed on my stomach and abdomen, mumbling to herself in tones of agreement, as if her exam was conferming her diagnosis.
She moved to the end of the table, and fitted it with stirrups. As my feet were guided into them, the bottom of the table dropped away and my private parts were now afforded full and unfettered access. She moved to a side table where she donned rubber exam gloves. I did not like the looks of this situation. A small package of lube was torn open and applied to the gloves. She moved back into a position between my legs. She asked if I had ever been examined down there. I replied that I had not. She explained that I would feel a little pressure as the exam progressed, but it should not be uncomfortable. Then two fingers were inserted into my vagina as she pressed on my stomach. While I was technically still a virgin, I usually only *********** with one finger or a tampon and the insertion was producing unusual feelings in my crotch. She withdrew her fingers and then began to lubricate my anal opening. Sure enough, two well lubricated fingers were inserted in there as she pressed on my stomach and abdomen some more.
She withdrew her fingers and removed her rubber gloves with a snap. She moved from her position between my legs to a position behind my head where I could not see what she was doing. I heard her running some water and I assumed she was washing her hands. A few moments later she returned carrying a bulging red rubber bag with a rubber tube attached to the bottom and a small hard plastic piece attached to the end. She asked me if I had ever had an enema before. The mere word sent shivers up my spine. An ENEMA! The things I had heard of about them from others ranged from awful to sexy. While I was curious, I never had the facilities to actually have one. I explained that I had never had one and she began to describe the procedure in purely medical terms adding that a lot of girls who were away from home for the first time needed them because they had adopted poor eating habits. She raised a pole from the end of the table and hung the bag there; taking the tube with the nozzle she lubricated the end and guided it toward my anus. It went in without difficulty sensing only the change in temperature of the nozzle from my body.
A clamp in the rubber hose holding the water back was released and a warm tingly feeling began to build within my body. Then the worst thing happened. The nozzle began to slip from my anus. I guess what with all the lube and having two fingers stretch my hole open just moments ago, the small nozzle had no chance. Plop. Out it came spraying water all over my ***, the table and now the floor. The doctor quickly retrieved the flopping hose and shut the clamp. She called for Beth to assist in the procedure. Beth responded between my legs at the end of the table where the doctor warned her that it was probably not a good place to stand lest she get sprayed by an errant expulsion, not to mention the puddle on the floor from the nozzle mishap. Beth was positioned at my right side with her left arm draped across my abdomen, her hand in direct contact with my ***** as she held the nozzle firmly in it's proper place. The clamp was again released and the squishy feeling of the water entering my body resumed. As the pressure built I squirmed a little to get comfortable. I became more aware of the feelings in my ***** as it brushed up against Beth's hand. I was getting really turned on by the whole scene.
It seemed like it took forever to finish the whole bag, but I did so without cramping. Beth removed the nozzle and instructed me not to do anything for ten minutes. About half way through, I felt the need to go and *** building. I wiggled a little more to ease both feelings. Finally it was time. Beth helped me from the table and lead me to the bathroom to release the softened waste along with the enema water. My fingers found my swollen **** and massaged it as the water flowed from me. As I began to ***, the torrents of water pulsated in rhythm in unison with my ******. I wiped and exited the restroom to find Beth standing outside smiling. I wonder if she heard me coming?
So after my experience at the campus nurses office the other day, my curiosities for enemas was peaked. As it was, Beth (the assistant at the nurse's office) also lived in my residence hall. She had mentioned in passing that the doctor wanted her to check up on my situation occasionally to insure my eating habits were not causing me any additional health problems. Later that week I passed her on campus and she asked me how I was doing. I replied that I was fine and had learned a lesson about eating properly. She seemed glad to hear of my progress and asked me if I wanted to help her do some learning. She explained that as part of her practicum she was required to administer enemas to a practice patient and asked if I would like to play the role of the patient. I felt very unsure of how to respond, having had an ****** as a result of my last enema experience and being a little embarrassed by the whole situation yet wanting to try it again on my own terms. I indicated that I would have to think about it and get back to her as I really needed to get going and get to class. She reminded me of her upper classmanship and that it was not a good idea to refuse a request out of respect for an upperclassman. Not wanting to make any more waves in my academic career, I hesitatingly agreed and asked when this practice had to occur. She indicated that it would be better to do later in the day and said that I should arrive in her room at 9:00 that night. As I went about my daily routine, my panties moistened in anticipation of the event that would occur later tonight.
Having been summoned by Beth, I arrived as scheduled. She locked the door behind me after my entry into her room. She explained that it wouldn't be a good idea to be interrupted during the process. She had the stereo playing some music with deep bass and drums like they play as ambient noise for parties. After some small talk she invited me to disrobe and she would begin to prepare the enema in the private bath of her room. I squeaked out of my clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor and joined her in her bathroom. I was surprised to find she had also removed her clothes before I entered the bathroom. She said that she felt it might remove the embarrassment factor she sensed I experienced if we were both naked. How perceptive of her.
I observed her wash basin filled with steaming water made cloudy by a bar of soap floating in it and a rather ominous ob
The top end of the nozzle from the device setting on the vanity counter was then submersed in the basin of water and the red rubber ball squeezed. The air in the ball escaped through the holes around the blunt end of the tube, creating small bubbles on the surface of the water. When the ball was squeezed flat, it was released and water from the basin was drawn into the device with a sucking sound. Beth positioned herself behind me and I could feel the hard plastic nozzle at the entrance to my rectum. Beth told me to again relax my hole and the tip of the nozzle was inserted into my sphincter. It felt OK and then curious feelings in my ***** began to return as the shaft of the device slid through my hole and into my body. Beth told me she was going to begin administering the enema and squeezed the red rubber bulb. I could sense that swimming feeling inside my body as the fluid filled my rectum. Beth then told me that she was going to remove the nozzle and that I should tighten my hole to keep the fluid from releasing too soon.
Well, that wasn't so bad I told Beth as I stood up and turned toward the toilet. She informed me that my enema was not over and that the entire basin of water would be put up my *** before I would be allowed to relieve myself. Beth took me and forcefully bent me over the vanity again and began another cycle of filing the device. Over and over again my sphincter was penetrated by the device and bulbfull after of bulbfull of water squirted in my ***. It became difficult to hold it all in. The constant clenching and releasing of my anus was arousing me. Beth had sensed this and suggested that it could help the process if I were to distract myself from all the goings on by ************ a little. So, she HAD heard me ******* when I expelled in the nurse's restroom. My hand found it's way to my crotch and began to massage my ****.
As the last of the water was drawn into the device, Beth informed me that sometimes a patient needs a little help holding the enema in so it could do it's work. She said that she has found that that leaving the large nozzle inside the patient helps to plug the water up inside. She moved behind me and inserted the nozzle into my body and then positioned her pubic mons directly on the red rubber squeeze bulb. She began to move her hips in and press against the bulb with her **** forcing the water into my body. She then moved her hips away allowing a little water to return into the bulb causing a curious feeling only to be followed by another thrust of her hips to send another pulse of water jetting into my ***. She was ******* me in the *** with the enema bulb! Her thrusts were met by my eager *** as I fingered my **** in rhythm. We both had an orgasam and fell onto the floor, our knees weakened from the ******. As my *** crashed to the floor the nozzle was shoved fully up my *** one last time before it fell out as I rolled over.
We lay on the floor for a few moments before I realized - I had an *** full of water to get rid off. I scurried over to the toilet and began to expel. As the torrents began to subside, Beth came over to me and sat strattled legged on top of me on the toilet and gently kissed me and began to take a ****. The warmth of her **** on my body enhanced the afterglow of the ****** we had just had. We retreated to the shower to wash up and as we soaped each other up Beth asked me if I would be interested in joining a sort of secret sorority she belonged to. She thought I would enjoy it very much, but explained that there would be an initiation ritual I would have to endure...
drn4321 46-50, M 1 Response 4 Apr 9, 2013