A number of years ago, I became acquainted with Sandy, a professional mistress who ran a dungeon in a large southern city. She asked me to teach her about erotic enemas, because she intended to expand her dungeon to include a “medical clinic.” She was also a massage therapist, so I spent several lovely afternoons on the bed she had suspended from the ceiling on chains, getting a wonderful massage, followed by a couple of enemas, slowly administered, while she reached under, and expertly massaged my cock and balls. She also liked to sit on my knee as I expelled, massaging my tummy, while I stimulated her nipples with my tongue.

But that’s a story for a different day. Sandy had just installed an ob-gyn examination table, complete with stirrups, which she had received from a clinic that was closing and was anxious to try it with one of her regular clients. She told me that this client was a submissive who loved to be humiliated, and had a medical fetish, and asked if I would use hypnosis to make a session in her new examination room seem more realistic.

I replied that I would, so long as she and the client both clearly understood that I was doing this for the pleasure I would receive from it, and that I would not be paid anything for my assistance. I’m not that kind of guy!

A couple of days later, I met Leslie, a dark-haired 23-yr old lady of vaguely Hispanic extraction, in the “waiting room” of Sandy’s clinic. Since it had a couch and a couple of comfortable chairs, it seemed like a good place to do the induction. I placed her under hypnosis, using the Chiasson technique, which is very effective with subs, and which also is more “magical” than most, which discourages amateurs who witness it from successfully emulating it. She actually went under so quickly, that I had to tell her to close her eyes and lower her hand to her lap. It’s often that way with subs. Sometimes you have to resist the urge to shake them, and yell, “Wake up! I’m not done hypnotizing you yet! (Grin) I quickly proceeded to deepen the trance almost to the plenary level, the created amnesia for her having come to the dungeon, and, indeed, for any knowledge of Sandy or myself. I suggested that when she awoke, she would find herself in a familiar medical clinic, and would remember having come to the clinic for treatment of a mild discomfort she had felt on and off for the past few days. I then suggested that she relax further, and that she would have an erotic dream about a doctor, and about how he would know just how to touch her to make her become more aroused than she ever had in the past. I allowed her to dream for a few minutes, noting that her breathing became heavier and she began to squirm slightly on the couch, indicating hypnotic sexual arousal.

After a few minutes, I suggested that in a short time, she would fall into a deep, natural sleep, until she was awakened by the doctor in the clinic. I suggested that when she opened her eyes, she would be amazed to find the doctor to be the very same one she had been dreaming about, and that she wouldn’t be able to stop wondering if his penis and testicles were as attractive as the ones she was dreaming about. I suggested that she might not be able to stop herself from stealing glances at his crotch and wondering what he would be like in bed. She might become very embarrassed by this, but wouldn’t want him to find out that she couldn’t stop thinking about him in that way. I also suggested that when he touched her, it would be like an erotic shock, that traveled directly from his touch to her clitoris and vagina, causing her to become aroused. She would try to hide her arousal from him, but every time he touched her it would be worse and worse until she was aroused almost beyond her capacity to hide it. I suggested that when she had to remove her clothing in front of him, and lie unclothed on the examination table, she would be embarrassed, but not think it unusual or suspicious.

Next, I suggested that her deep inner mind would be aware of the situation, but that she would not be aware of it at the conscious level. I also implanted a code word, “Rumpelstiltskin” which she would not consciously be aware of, but which she would recall and utilize if the situation caused her real anxiety or discomfort. Finally, I suggested that when I snapped my fingers and said the word, “remember,” she would recall everything that was said to her under hypnosis and be amused and amazed at the power of her deep inner mind. I then suggested that she relax further into a natural sleep, from which she would be awakened, to her great embarrassment, in the waiting room of the clinic.

After monitoring her for a few minutes, I slipped quietly out of the room, undressed, and put on a set of hospital scrubs under a white lab coat. Sandy already had on her nurse’s uniform. I gave it a few minutes more, during which Sandy reached down inside my pants and began to massage me, causing me to have to wait for a couple of additional minutes for the, er, swelling to go down before I could proceed.

When I returned to the waiting room, Leslie was sound asleep on the couch. I placed a magazine on her stomach, as though she fell asleep reading, then placed my hand on her shoulder and said, “Ms. Melendez?” She awoke with a start, jerked away from me, and turned beet red. I said, “Ms. Melendez, I’m Dr. Avery. Are you all right?” She looked around her, startled, then said, “Yes, I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep while I was waiting.” I assured her that was all right, then asked her, “What’s the problem today?” She complained of an intermittent “ookey” feeling, indicating the general area of her abdomen. I asked her, “When was the last time you had a complete physical examination?” and she said it had been maybe a couple of years ago. I said, “Well, in that case, we’ll need to do a thorough exam, and see if we can’t get you to feeling better. With that, I indicated that she should precede me into the examining room, which she did.

When she approached the examination table, I told her to have a seat on the table, which she did. I approached her, and began carefully running my fingers through her hair, taking a small but powerful flashlight out of my pocket and using it to check her scalp. She almost immediately began to squirm on the table, and I could tell that my suggestions that she would become aroused sexually at my touch was having an effect. It would become much more profound as we proceeded with the examination. I examined her ears, shining the light very closely to them so that she would feel the warmth, then her eyes, flashing the light briefly into each eye, watching her pupils contract, and finally her mouth, using a tongue depressor and examining the back of her throat.

Then, I stepped back and said, “You’ll need to remove all of your clothing. You can put your things on that chair.” indicating a chair beside the table. I stood back and watched as she stood up, reddening and carefully not looking at me, and removed her shoes, blouse, skirt, and pantyhose. Then she turned away from me and removed her bra, then pulled down her panties and let them fall to the floor, squatting to retrieve them and place them on top of the pile. I said, “Okay, now have a seat on the table again, I’m going to check your breasts.” She complied, and I stepped in close to her, and lightly stroked her left breast, as though feeling for any surface irregularities. She turned beet red, and I could tell that she was barely able to keep from squirming on the table to relieve her tension. I increased the pressure on her breast, cupping it firmly in my hand, working my way towards the nipple, then rubbed the aureole with my thumb, watching her nipple become erect, then rolled the nipple itself between my thumb and forefinger firmly but gently. She was breathing heavier now but trying not to make it obvious. I repeated the procedure with her right breast, noting that the nipple was already erect and firm as I first began lightly rubbing it. She was losing the battle with not squirming on the table, so I stepped back and asked her, “You seem to be a little uncomfortable. Do you need to use the toilet or something?” She stammered, “No, no, I’m fine. Just still feeling a little ookey.”

I said, “Well, we’ll try to get that cleared up. Just lie back on the table, and relax.” She did as instructed, and I pumped the table up a few inches. (It was an old manual hydraulic model.) I then began massaging her rib cage and moving on down to her abdomen. I pressed and rubbed various points on her abdomen, asking her “How does this feel?” each time I moved to a different point. She was again breathing heavily, but managed to answer “Okay” or “Fine” each time I asked. I then moved down around her closest (right) thigh, feeling down the outside of her leg, then up the inside. As I approached her groin area she began to breathe more heavily and couldn’t help squirming, so I moved quickly over to the outside of her left thigh, and repeated the procedure. I took my time working up the inside of her thigh, then bent over her pubic area and began feeling her labia. She turned her head in apparent embarrassment, as I gently separated her labia with the fingers of my left hand, and felt the inside of her labia with the “exploratory” (as we used to say in the Army) finger of my right hand. Her clitoris became erect, so I gently moved my finger around it, stroking it under the guise of examining her. At this point I should probably interject, that part of the fun of this scenario was to not only make Leslie have to appear not to be sexually aroused, but to keep myself operating at a more-or-less “professional” level. It was a real struggle to stroke her clitoris only with my fingers, and not my tongue!

She was now about ready to squirm off the table, except for her determination not to appear sexually aroused. I told her to spread her legs and put her feet in the stirrups, that I was going to have to do a pelvic exam. She complied, and I squirted some K-Y Jelly on my “exploratory” finger, as a prop only, since her own lubricants were dripping down onto the table by this point. I inserted my finger slowly into her vagina, twisting it around and feeling for any “irregularities.” I quickly found her G-spot, and gave it a good massaging, until I felt her vaginal muscles begin to spasmodically contract around my finger. She had thrown her arm over her face now, and I had her almost on the brink of orgasm. I eased my finger out of her vagina, and told her that it would be necessary for me to cleans her internally before I could finish the pelvic. I called to Sandy in the other room, “Nurse, prepare a two-quart cleansing douche solution and bring it in here, please.”

I then moved around between her legs, and used my flashlight to closely observe her labia, clitoris, and vagina which I again lightly stimulated until Sandy came in with the open-top douche bag hanging from an IV pole. She raised the head of the table, and I told Leslie to scoot down so that her bottom was at the very edge of the table. Sandy pulled out a little shelf and put a bed pan on it, then handed me the douche nozzle. I lubricated it with K-Y Jelly, as Leslie, now raised so she could see, couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of the nozzle. I told her, “Just relax.” and inserted the nozzle deeply into her vagina. I then told her, “Relax all your vaginal muscles.” I then said, “Are you ready?” and looked up at her. She nodded, looking so embarrassed that she wanted to cry. I released the clamp and let the fluid gush into her. As it began streaming back out of her vagina and into the bedpan, I twisted the nozzle left and right, inserting it deeper, then withdrawing it, only to twist and insert it once again, until all the solution had drained from the bag, and run out into the bedpan.

Sandy removed the bedpan and douche bag, and I wiped Leslie dry with a towel. I then adjusted the stirrups higher and asked her how she felt. She said, “Still a little out of sorts.” I again inserted a lubricated finger into her vagina, using the flashlight more for its warmth effect on her than for my visual entertainment, and felt her until she again began to breathe heavily. I removed my finger, again wiped her, and said, “Well, your reproductive tract seems in order. When was the last time you had a bowel movement?” She said she couldn’t remember, so I said, “Well, then I’d better check you back there next.”

I again lubricated my middle finger and smeared a glob of cold K-Y onto her anal bud, rubbing it gently around. I heard her gasp when I touched her, then, with my finger gently massaging the rim of her sphincter, I said, “Now just relax your muscles, and this won’t hurt a bit.” I felt her relax slightly, and moved the tip of my finger to the center of her anus, then increased the pressure until it slipped in. I moved it in and out, twisting it around, feeling her, and hearing her breathing again increase in both volume and rapidity. After some few minutes of feeling around inside her rectum, I said, “Aha, I think we’ve found the problem. You seem to be constipated.” I removed my finger from her anus, went over to the sink and washed my hands, saying, “Ordinarily I’d prescribe a laxative, but since you’re in distress and seem to be quite a bit constipated, I’m going to give you a cleansing enema, followed by an anal rinse to make sure you’re clear.

With that I called out, “Nurse, prepare a two-and-a-half quart enema right away, please.” Sandy, of course, was already doing so, using the pressure-fill method that I’d taught her where you fill a closed-top bag by siphoning the enema solution out of a sink to the bag on the floor. The bag blows up like a basketball, and a two-quart bag will generally hold two and a half quarts when filled by this method. I had also introduced Sandy to the delights of Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Castile Soap, which she used liberally in the solution. The enema apparatus I’d chosen to use was my own home-made Higginson pump, made from an outboard motor fuel pump bulb inserted onto the enema hose between the clamp and the tip. As Sandy brought the enema apparatus in, I lowered the table and told Leslie to turn over, and kneel at the end of the table. She did so, and I told her to put her head down on the pillow, so that her lovely anus was sticking up, right about chest height on me. I knew she was watching me, so I laid out several enema nozzles, including a couple of quite large ones (by Nozz Wiz, for those of you in the know). Sandy put the bag on the shelf and left the room again (to observe through the open doorway). I told Leslie it would be necessary for me to gauge the tone of her anal muscles in order to choose the proper nozzle to use on her. I again lubricated my finger, rubbed around the rim of her anus, then slipped it again inside her almost to the third joint. I told her to squeeze my finger with her sphincter muscles. At first she didn’t comply, so I told her, “It’s Okay, just squeeze my finger as hard as you can.” That time she overcame her embarrassment enough to gently squeeze my finger, so I said, “That’s good. Just relax now.” and when she did, I removed my finger, and again washed my hands.

I selected one of my favorite nozzles, which has about a half-inch shaft with a three-quarters inch bulge near the tip, with two side holes in case the hole in the tip should become plugged. I picked it up, again noting that Leslie was watching me carefully, and took it around behind her, attaching it to the end of the hose. I released the clamp and squeezed the bulb gently a couple of times until a few drops spurted out of the tip and onto the floor. I then lubricated the nozzle, and told Leslie, “Okay, now just relax. I’m going to insert the nozzle now.” I placed the tip in the center of her anus, and pushed gently, watching her sphincter muscles expand to accept the bulge, then contract around the shaft, helping to draw it inside her. I continued to push until all but about a half-inch was inside her rectum. I let loose of it, noting that it came out about a half-inch. I asked her, “Would you like me to hold it in for you? It’ll be easier.” She said, “Yes, please.”

I needed no further invitation; I grasped the shaft between the thumb and forefinger of my left hand, moved it back about a half-inch more into her, and placed the palm and my other fingers on her left buttock. I said, “You’ll feel a strong spurt to clear the nozzle, but then I’ll control the flow into you so that it won’t be uncomfortable.” I then said, “Okay, Leslie, tell me when you’re ready.” She hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “Okay, I’m ready now.” I squeezed hard on the bulb and sent a spurt of enema solution into her. I heard her gasp and felt her cheeks clench. I said, “Okay, the next one will be easer.” as the bulb filled itself again. I squeezed more gently this time, increasing the pressure as the bulb collapsed until it was empty. I repeated the procedure until the bag was about half empty, when Leslie said, “It’s starting to hurt.” I put down the bulb, released my hold on the nozzle (and her bottom) and began gently massaging her stomach. She had tensed up, but slowly began to relax, and began breathing more heavily again, making an “Ummm” sound. I told her that she had taken about half the enema but would have to take quite a bit more to effectively alleviate her constipation.

With that, I again held the nozzle and her lovely bottom, and began squeezing and releasing the bulb again. At about three-quarters of the bag, she began groaning every time I squeezed the bulb. I asked her, “Would you like me to massage you again as you’re taking the rest of the enema?” She said, “Yes, please. It’s really beginning to hurt.” This time, instead of going around and massaging her from the side, I reached between her legs with my left hand and massaged her abdomen, while keeping my forearm pressed firmly against her pubic area, moving it against her labia and clitoris as I moved my hand around her tummy. I continued squeezing the bulb and releasing it, but then began squeezing it in short hard spurts. This had the effect of causing the enema to spurt into her a couple of tablespoons at a time, like a man ejaculating into her rectum. It also had the effect of causing the hose to jump up and down, which wiggled the nozzle in her anus. As I spurted the enema into her, rubbing her tummy and pubic area, she began to moan, and couldn’t help but move her pelvis against my forearm slightly. Finally, when the bag was almost empty, she said, “God! I can’t take any more!” I told her “One more,” and squeezed the bulb hard until it was empty. She groaned, and I rubbed her a bit more vigorously, then removed my hand and said, “Okay, that’ll be enough.” With that, I placed a towel under her rectum, and withdrew the nozzle, keeping her dry and clean. Sandy came in and we assisted her off of the table, and into the toilet next door.

When she emerged, she said that she felt fine, now! I told her that it would still be necessary to give her another enema to clean out the soap we used in the first one, and that she would have to retain it in order to thoroughly dissolve any soap and any “material” that remained after the first enema. I told her to again kneel on the end of the table, and place her head on the pillow, and she again complied. Sandy, right on cue, entered with the enema bag again pressure-filled, this time with a saline solution to prevent the liquid from being absorbed by her colon. This time, I chose a slightly larger nozzle with a balloon at the tip to hold it in place, and make it easier to retain the enema. I lubricated the nozzle thoroughly, then moved into position between Leslie’s lovely cheeks. I told her, “I’ve lubricated the nozzle, but it may slip in easier if I lubricate you, as well. Would you like me to do that?” She quickly answered, “Yes, please. I don’t want it to hurt.” I applied more lubricant to my finger, smeared it around her anal bud, then again slipped my finger inside her, each time slowly withdrawing it for more lubricant, then re-inserting it ever deeper. The last time, she was actually thrusting against me slightly, but I doubt she even realized it. Regretfully I withdrew my finger slowly, wiping it on a towel.

Next, I placed the tip of the nozzle in the center of her now slightly open anus and pushed it slowly deeply inside her. I picked up the inflation device, and said, “Now you’re going to feel the nozzle position itself so that you don’t have to hold it in.” I squeezed the device, heard her gasp, then clamped off the inflation hose. I said, “Is that Okay?” and she said, “Yes, but it feels a little weird.” I said “You’ll get used to it.” then asked, “Are you ready?” She said, “Yes.” so I gave the bulb a sharp squeeze, again hearing a slight gasp from her, then began rhythmically squeezing and releasing the bulb, a little more firmly this time around.

This time, she got about three-fourths of the bag inside her when she said, “Could you please slow down a little, and maybe rub me again. Like you did before.” By this, I was certain she meant, “rub between my legs” so I slowed the rhythm of the enema bulb, reached between her legs, and began rubbing her abdomen with her hands, and her pubic area with my forearm. Shortly after, she sighed, saying “That’s better.” in a contented voice. I continued gently squeezing the bulb and rubbing Leslie until the bag was completely empty and sucked dry. I then clamped the hose and removed it from the bulb, letting it hang, as it had one-way valves in it that prevented anything from coming back through it. I told Leslie, now you’ll need to hold the enema for ten minutes before you can release it. I just stepped back, admiring her lovely bottom in the air, the enema tube firmly planted in it, when she said “I’m cramping again. Can’t you massage me again until I’m done?” Well, of course ol’ Doc E was willing to help out a lady in distress. I rubbed her tummy, having to resist the temptation to dedicate my ministrations solely to her pubic area, for the prescribed ten minutes, whereupon I again placed the towel under her anus, released the clamp on the inflation tube, and removed the nozzle onto the towel. I once again helped her to her feet, and she quickly disappeared into the toilet.

After about twenty minutes, I heard the shower in the bathroom run briefly, then she emerged again, with a big smile on her face, saying that she felt just great. I indicated she should sit on the end of the examination table, which was still lowered for the enemas. When she did, I looked her in the eye, and said, “One, Two, Three, Remember!” and snapped my fingers. She got a huge grin on her face, and said, “That was the best scene I’ve ever had anywhere! It was so real!” Then she said, “But you know, the whole time there was something I was just dying to do and knew then I couldn’t. But now I can!” And with that, she grabbed my scrub bottoms, pulled them down, and began massaging my balls. My cock was already erect, having spent most of the last couple of hours in that condition. I took off my lab coat, and she said, “I want you inside me.” She put her feet up in the stirrups again and pulled me over on top of her. She was well lubricated already, and I slipped in, finding the position unusually effective, with her legs held up high, as I began to slowly thrust into her, and felt her respond. I’d forgotten about Sandy, but Sandy hadn’t forgotten about me! As I stroked Leslie, I felt something cold on my anus, then felt Sandy’s finger inside my rectum, twisting and pushing as I pushed into Leslie. Sandy found my prostate and began to vigorously massage it just as Leslie began to cry out, and I felt her vagina spasmodically clutching my shaft. Guys, if you haven’t experienced this, you’re missing out on one of the great pleasures of life. I felt like I was coming out of both ends of my cock at the same time! The sensation was just, well, sensational!

Sandy had, so to speak, sacrificed herself for me. I’d promised I would give her a sperm enema when we were done with Leslie. In the old days, that would have happened. As it was, she had to satisfy herself by coming several times on my tongue. Maybe it wasn’t such a great sacrifice, after all! ;-)

That’s the only time I saw Leslie. But I’ll always remember that afternoon.

My lovely Leslie. I wonder where you are. I wonder if you think about me, once upon a time, in your wildest dream!