I was introduced to enemas by my wife, who had learned how to take and administer them from her mother. Her mother did not use soap, or perhaps exceptionally — only plain water, or plain water plus baking soda — and thus my wife did likewise. We have however read all these folks that got soapy enemas at home or in hospital, and so have done it a few times as well. I just did not expect it this week-end.
We had a time for ourselves as the kids had been packed off to outside activities. My wife announced that she would first “give me a good flushing”. I said that I would first need to void my bowels — we generally have a bowel movement before taking an enema — but she said it was unnecessary: “You like reading on Zity these stories of stuffed boys and girls getting flushed by their mommas? Well it will be like that. Undress and go to the bathroom.”. So there I was, in the bathroom in a T-shirt and socks. I did not however expect her to come from the kitchen with a pitcher — we normally fill the bag straight from the tap. Neither did I expect her to take a bar of soap and swish it and rub it inside. I stared as the water in the pitcher was becoming milky. She then poured the contents of the pitcher into the bag, then filled the bag up from the bathtub tap. I saw the suds floating when the water reached the opening. My wife then screwed the piping in place, hung the bag from the towel rack, and held the nozzle above the tub while she opened the clamp for a few seconds to flush the air off the pipe.
“In position!” I knew what to do. I knelt on the floor, lowered my head and raised my bottom — or rather my derrière. I heard the Vaseline jar being opened. “Bear down.” A very greasy finger entered me and probed inside. “Ah ah I feel something inside, seems like indeed my boy needs a flushing!”. Soon after the finger was replaced by the nozzle (with that amount of Vaseline, I hardly felt it entering), and then came the soapy water.
It was not a comfortable enema, but not a very uncomfortable one either. I felt some cramping, but it was tolerable. The bag did not take too long to empty into my bowels. I felt a urge to expel.
“Not too fast. If it is uncomfortable staying like that, just walk around a bit.”
So I did. It was not long, however, before I sat on the toilet while my wife observed. I passed a lot of stools along with the water — unsure whether I would have passed so much without the soap. I stayed quite a long time on the toilet. I stood a bit, then sat back.
As usual when using Vaseline, wiping did little to suppress the greasy feeling. My wife looked at the contents of the bowl, observed that in fact it seemed I needed that enema, and flushed.
My wife then filled the bag for the rinse, and I was soon back in position. I expected the second enema to be significantly easier to take than the first, but that was not the case, and I was glad when the bag was empty.
“You understand what it must have felt for these boys and girls that you like reading about so much… Or for me, even though my mom did not use soap!”
After expelling that second enema, I came back to our room where I had the surprise to see my wife with her dildo and harness in position (my wife has a dildo that fits in her vagina, which theoretically can be used without a harness, but she uses one for more security). “Since you are well cleaned out I think it’s the occasion for a good reaming.”
Soon I was face down on the bed, some Vaseline was again applied inside and out of my anus, and she sodomized me.