A few days into the event, I was lounging around in front of my tent, relaxing. Angela had pitched her tent near mine, at the back of our group's camp. She got back to camp from her morning's activities, and gave me a hug. While we were chatting, nature called, and she went down to the porta-potties outside our camp. She came back shortly, looking unhappy.

I asked, "Are you ok?"

"No", she replied, "I can't go - I'm stuffed up."

She'd mentioned online that sometimes she'd been so badly blocked up, that it had damaged her anus - seeing blood in the potty, and suffering intense pain. Now, something that she (probably) didn't know, or hadn't guessed, about me, was that I was seriously into medical kink. Evenings at this event, there were frequently some "adult" themed parties, down in one corner of the campground. I went to all the ones I could get to, and usually had a toy bag with me. She did know that on the normal / serious side, I was part of the First Aid Guild - had a real first aid kit, and could patch up injuries. I did, of course, maintain a firm mental and behavioral boundary between these two sides of me.

I patted her shoulder, sympathetically. "Could you use some help with that? I've got some things to treat constipation."

She looked at me. "What kind of 'things'?"

"Well, I'm not a fan of laxative pills, but I've helped some people in the past. I've got a jar of suppositories, and I can give enemas."

"You have ENEMA equipment? Isn't that a lot higher level than 'First Aid'?"

"Well, yes. Let's say that for something like that, I'd be taking off the First Aid badge, and switching over to just helping a friend. Would an enema help?"

"Oh, God, yes! Anything to get this out of me, without tearing up my butt!"

"Okay, we can do this. Go in my tent, and take off your leggings and panties. You can run to the potty in your skirt, without anyone seeing anything."

I lit the gas burner under my coffee pot, to get some hot water. While that was happening, I went into the tent, where she was sitting on my cot. Her eyes widened as I opened one of my equipment kits, and took out an enema bag, nitrile gloves, and lubricant. I also had a cooking thermometer handy. I laid them out on the table in my tent. I fetched the hot water, and poured a drinking jug half full. I then added cold water, until the cooking thermo showed it at about 100 degrees. I picked up the enema bag, and poured in the water. Then, reached into my shower kit for the bottle of Castile soap, and added enough to make the water cloudy. Finally, I hung the bag from a loop in the canvas, over the cot. Angela watched my every move.

"Okay, the enema's ready. Are you ready to get it?"

"Oh, YES! Anything to help me get this out!"

"Okay, pull up your skirt and get into position."

She got up, bunched her skirt around her waist, and got on the cot. I was interested to note that she immediately got into knee-chest position, bottom up and cheeks parted, with her anus ready for attention. I put on gloves, and picked up the lube.

"I'm guessing from the position, that you've had enemas..." She nodded, face a bit red. "Okay, I'm going to start by lubricating your anus and the enema tube. Don't want it to hurt, do we?"

She gasped as the chilly lubricant touched her anus. It puckered and squeezed a bit, and I pressed more firmly. Suddenly, the muscles gave way, and my finger slid into her rectum. I immediately felt a hard mass. Yes, she was pretty badly stuffed up.

"Yes, you do need this. Take a deep breath, and relax as I insert the tube."

I took the enema tip between my fingers, put it against her anal opening, and pushed, twisting it side-to-side. I got it in, and asked, "Is that ok?"

She nodded, as her sphincter muscles squeezed the tube.

"Okay, now. Lie down, and roll up on your left side."

She did, assuming a textbook Sims position - left side, knees pulled up toward her abdomen, enema tube protruding from her anus.

"Okay, I'm going to open the clamp. Let me know when you start feeling full or crampy. I'm not going to make you take the whole bag, just enough.

I released the clamp, and watched her bottom squirm and wiggle as the soapy water flowed in. In less than a minute, she grunted and waved her hand at me to stop. I shut the clamp.

"Okay, now, keep your legs pulled up, and I'll help you roll on your back."

We got her repositioned, on her back, tube between her legs, feet planted on the cot. She lay there with her eyes closed, a tense expression on her face. I opened the clamp, letting the water start again. This time, she asked me to stop a bit more quickly. I helped her roll to her right side, and said, "Okay, when you stop me this time, we'll call it good. You can go to the potty."

She held out for about another cup or so of water, and then had me stop. I pulled the tube, and she headed for the porta-potty. I did not make her hold it, because I didn't want an accident in the middle of our group's camp. She made it, and I went to tidy up - emptied and rinsed the bag, hung it up to dry, and pulled out a coupleof other items. She was down there for quite a while, so when she came back to the tent, I was ready.