Aunt GinnyThis is a story I wrote about fifteen years ago recounting one of my first major enema experiences with a very large volume enema. I first posted it anonymously to alt.sex.enemas, but in the interim it has been re-posted to many enema sites by apparently everyone. So I thought I would share it with everyone here also. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
My aunt used to take care of me now and then. She was an RN and very forward about giving enemas. I think that she would give an enema to anything that moved, or perhaps, more appropriately didn't move.
One evening when she was taking care of me she asked me if I had had a BM that day. Sort of picking up here, I replied "No," even though I really couldn't remember if I had or not. She then asked me if I had ever had an enema. I told her my mother had given me enemas with a bulb syringe. She told me that was more of a wash and that a real enema `like they give in the hospital' was `really an experience' and that she thought I was probably going to need one.
We were lying in her bed at the time because I used to always sleep with her when she took care of me. My uncle worked nights and we were the only two in the house. Also, I used to sleep in one of my uncle’s T-shirts that fit me like a nightshirt and came almost to the floor. We would lie there at night and scratch each other's back and butts and put powder on each other's back and down the crack of the other's butt and scratch each other's crack. I enjoyed this very much and was only frustrated by the fact that when I tried to explore lower she always stopped me. Those days are probably the most memorable of my life: sleeping with my aunt who excited me sexually at a very young age and later used to give me enemas on a regular basis.
That night when I replied that I had not had a BM she replied that I needed a regular good old-fashioned 3H enema. We got out of bed and she took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. I was very apprehensive, a bit scared and looking forward to it like you wouldn't believe. As we walked into the bathroom I was on an emotional roller coaster. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach and a feeling of dread and at the same time a feeling of excitement and anticipation, but also a bit of fear.
My aunt used to keep a diary and write in it every evening while we were lying in bed and she would go into graphic detail whenever she instructed new nurses in how to give enemas, and it had always fascinated me. I knew that there was a reason for the feeling I had in my tummy. The feelings of sexual excitement and at the same time a bit of fear. I knew that in a few minutes I was going to be getting an enema like I had never experienced in my life, and at this point I had no choice but to comply and do whatever she said.
Sitting on the lid of the toilet seat, still in my uncles oversized T-shirt, I watched her open the door of the bathroom closet and take out a tube of KY Jelly and a zippered carrying case, a 2 qt. pitcher and a coat hanger. She laid these things on the counter. Then she unzipped the case and took out a blue folding syringe that had white tubing and the customary two black nozzles. To my surprise, she chose the larger curved douche nozzle and attached it to the tubing. "You're going to use the big nozzle?" I asked in a kind of meek tone. Yes, "she replied," it stays in position better and it’s always better to use the bigger nozzle unless you are giving an enema to a baby or real small child. I didn't say another word, but just continued to watch as she then proceeded to start running hot water into the sink picked up the bar of soap and started to rotate the bar rapidly between her hands under the running water. After the sink was full, she continued rubbing the bar of soap under the water for a while longer.
When she had decided the water was soapy enough, she dried her hands, picked up the pitcher in one hand and the enema bag in the other. She then filled the pitcher and poured it into the enema bag. At this point I noticed that the enema bag was not shaped like other enema bags I had seen. Instead of having the traditional shape this one looked like a big blue pumpkin (which I learned many years later is exactly what they call it) I don't know how much water she put in it, but she did dip the pitcher down into the sink twice, since because of the shape of the sink she was unable to fill the pitcher entirely. Then she took the coat hanger and ran the hook part of the hanger through the hole at the top of the bag and hung the bag on the towel rack at the end of the tub. She then ran some of the water through the tube to let the air out of the tube and placed the nozzle into the bag of hot soapy water. She then walked to the sink, picked up the tube of KY jelly and said, "OK, we're ready."
How much hot soapy water she had in that bag I am not sure. At the time I thought it was full, but I am sure it wasn't and I am sure she knew exactly how much water was in the bag. She walked over to where I was sitting and in the process of getting to my feet. With tube of KY in hand she replied, "OK time to ***** you down for your enema." With that she ordered me to raise my hands and lifted the oversized T-shirt off of me with one fatal swoop.
All of a sudden I was standing there naked as a slug in the bathroom with my aunt who was wearing only a yellow sleeveless pajama top and a pair of white nylon panties and the large blue enema bag hanging ominously on the towel rack. I will never in my life be able to put into words the feelings I was having at this moment. Shame, fear, excitement, anticipation, they were all there but still are not desc
When the nozzle was in place she began to lecture me on how she wanted me to take the enema. "Listen," she said, "I want you to take all of this enema and if you just relax and do what I tell you we won't have any trouble OK?"
Tethered by the nozzle up my bottom, I simply mumbled "OK." As I looked to the left I could see the bag hanging above me on the towel rack and see she had the shut off clamp in her hand. "Are you ready for your enema?" she asked. Again I just dumbly mumbled yes. With that I heard the click of the shut off clamp, which I thought sounded like a rifle shot in the quiet of the bathroom, and began to feel the first pleasurable sensation of the hot soapy water beginning to fill my bowels. This however lasted for only a minute or so and then the cramps began to set in. I complained to my aunt and told her I was full and ready to get rid of my enema.
To my horror, she told me that I was wrong and that I had not even taken a third of my enema. She had already stopped the flow and she told me simply to 'relax and pant like a puppy' and tell her when the cramp went away. I did what she said and she was right, the cramps went away. She started the flow again, the cramps came and when she stopped the flow and I panted like a puppy they went away. After a few times of this however, the cramps didn't go away as quickly and I found myself constantly panting like a puppy and getting into a very desperate state and begging her to let me up to get rid of the enema.
Finally she stopped the flow again and said, "OK, were only about two thirds of the way through this enema and you have your choice. You can either go ahead and get rid of this enema and then you will have to have another enema, or you can go ahead and finish this enema and that will be the only one you will have to take tonight."
"Okay," I said, panting and frantic, "I'll try to take all of this enema." With that said I watched her release the clamp. I took a little bit more, but quickly realized it was no use and told her I couldn't take it all. She shut off the flow, withdrew the nozzle and let me stand up and head for the toilet. When I stood up I couldn't believe how big my tummy had gotten and when I sat down on the toilet everything really came out as I sat there feeling instant relief, my feelings of relief were dampened as I saw my aunt take down the enema bag carry it over to the sink and begin to once again fill the sink with hot soapy water... "See," she replied, "I told you getting an enema was an experience."
My aunt rolled the bar of soap in her hands under the hot water she was running in the sink to prepare my second enema. She then picked up the enema bag and pitcher and once again refilled the bag. She then re-hung it in it's original position, placed the nozzle in the bag of water and walked over to where I was sitting on the toilet and began to softly rub my back with her hand. "Are you all empty yet," she asked.
I nodded yes. "Okay," she said, "Wipe yourself off and get back over the edge of the tub." I took some paper and did as she said; she then went to the sink and wet a washcloth. Then she took me by the hand, stood me up and bent me over her leg so that my bottom was sort of sticking up between her legs, in this position she gently cleaned my bottom. This was another very pleasant feeling, my penis against her thigh and the feel of her nylon panties against my side. After she finished she led me over to the edge of the tub and guided me into position.
By now I knew what I had to do so I simply put my head down low and stuck my bottom up high in the air and turned my head to the side so I could watch her take the nozzle out of the bag, let the air out of the tube and replace it in the bag. She then picked up the lubricant and once again placed a large glob on my bottom hole and again drove her finger up my rectum to the hilt. She then took the tube out of the enema bag and inserted it well up into my rectum. As a one last-ditch attempt, in a very weak voice I asked, "Do I really have to have another enema?"
She answered, "You haven't really even had one yet, only part of one. This one will go better. Like I said, you just have to do what I say and breathe deeply and pant like a puppy, this will keep the cramps away. Are you ready to start your enema now?"
I didn't say a word but just dumbly nodded my head yes. Again I heard the sharp click of the shut off clamp, and again felt the first rush of hot soapy water begin to enter my bowels. This time, however, I didn't even wait for the cramps to start; I started panting rapidly right away. I continued this and as my aunt knelt by my side on her knees I could see her occasionally pinch the hose a bit to slow down the flow of water, but she never did shut it off and I didn't ask her to. My belly was getting bigger and was tight as a drum by the time it was all in me, I did manage to take the entire enema! I looked up and could see that big enema bag hanging limp on the towel rack, now empty and no longer a threat to me. "You did a good job," my aunt told me, "You took your whole enema."
I thought I would now be allowed to get up and go to the toilet and relieve myself, but she didn't seem to understand this and just stayed there with the nozzle up my bottom, not moving. "I have to go now!" I announced. "Not yet, I want you to hold it in for about 5 or 10 minutes to let it work properly and do its job."
Again panic set in. "I can't hold it I don't think!" I said in a fairly desperate tone of voice.
"You'll have to hold it for a while unless you want to do this all over again," she said, "Do you?"
"No!" I answered. It was all I could do, but I somehow managed to hold it for the required length of time. She then pulled out the nozzle and put a piece of toilet tissue up against my anus and escorted me to the toilet. When I finally sat down I think I voided everything with one big rush and one of the most complete feelings of relief that I have ever had in my life. While I was busy voiding the enema, I was watching my aunt as she was washing out the enema bag and hanging it to dry over the shower rod.
After I had finished, she once again cleaned me with the washcloth and then put the oversized T-shirt on me and led me by the hand back to her bed. Once back in bed she told me what a good job I had done taking my enema and again began rubbing my back and patting my bottom as she told me that the next time I would know what to expect. She then asked me if I thought she was right when she said getting an enema was a `real experience?!