Over the years the enema my father gave me has been embellished to the point that I am not sure what really happened, other then the fact that the original incident was rather mundane. I did see that same enema bag once hanging to dry on the back of the bathroom door and on several occasions as I grew up I did sneak it out from under the towels where my mother kept it hidden. So, the difference between my mother’s enema and the enema Bobby got from eBay surprised me. Bobby’s enema was beautiful! The red color had faded a bit but the rubber was thick and the enema nozzles seemed longer and the clamp was real metal! I suddenly understood why people appreciate antiques. There was something commanding about the vintage eBay enema. Bobby, smiling, watched me holding and touching and feeling the substantial bag. I was enamored. This was indeed an Enema! I felt a tinge of disappointment when Bobby made me hand back the enema equipment.
Bobby did not say a word, he just took me by the arm and I felt very tiny and timid as he marched me into the bathroom. I can still hear the dull, hollow almost echo like sound the warm water made as the bag was filled. The enema bag looked heavy and ominous when Bobby hung it from the towel rack above the bathroom chair. Bobby questioned me again and again which drove home the point that I was about to be given a large 2-quart enema.
“Are you going to take your enema like a good little girl?” He unbuttoned the straps on my play shorts and they fell to the floor.
“Bobby, please, I don’t want an enema in my bummer. I don’t want an enema.” I whimpered as he slid my little hello kitty panties down over my hips. I don’t want to be all bare for my enema!” I throw my arms around his neck and hugging him I began to softly sob. I was transported back to that afternoon when I was 9 and my Daddy took me upstairs to the bathroom.
Bobby’s hands reached down and cupped my bare little bottom pulling me closer. “We have talked a lot about this day and what did I say?”
I was whimpering softly, “You said, that little girls sometimes need enemas. And, you said that if I did not take my enema like a good girl you would have to spank my bare bottom.”
Bobby gently pulled my arms from around his neck. In a stern voice, “Do I need to spank your bottom?”
Pouting I nodded, “No.”
“Then you go lay on your tummy over the chair so I can finish getting your enema ready.”
I lay trembling on my tummy and closed my eyes holding back wet tears as Bobby opened a new jar of Vaseline. The bathroom seemed so quiet and still and I felt so bare and little as I waited ……