Another of Traci's True Stories as Told by Christine

Ann and I are twins who are both seniors in college although we do go to different universities. We are nearly identical in every respect except one of us has a strategically placed mole near a private part of our body and the fact that I grew up accepting enemas whereas Ann grew up hating them. But times change and she now accepts them for their more pleasurable side.

It was the middle of our last semester and we'd both gone home for a couple of days to see our family. Sunday night was the traditional time that Mom would give either Ann or me a regular enema. Ann, however, constipated for the past four days because her period was due and because we'd found Mom's fountain syringe in the linen closet, asked me to give her an enema last night promising that she'd reciprocate and give me one this morning. When we went down for breakfast, Mom was surprised that it was Ann who had used the syringe instead of me. This is where the conversation left off.

"Mom, I know it's taken a long time for me to get to this point, but you really did know what was best," said Ann giving Mom a big hug. "Besides, Traci is planning to take one this morning just before she showers. Aren't you, Traci?" Ann added with a devilish giggle.

"I never did mind one too much and still don't. I always thought Mom knew best." I said envisioning the full bag of soapy water I'd be enjoying in just a few minutes. As a faint smile came to my lips I thought I could also feel myself getting just a bit damp if not outright wet in anticipation.

"You going to be able to manage that OK, Traci?" asked Mom.

"I think so," I said finishing my coffee. "Besides I think Ann can give me some help if I really need it." Ann finished her coffee and, upon seeing me head for the steps, was right behind me.

"A promise is a promise," she said almost too eagerly. When we got to the bathroom, she immediately began running the water and retrieved the syringe from the faucets of the bathtub where it had been drying overnight.

"I've got the soap and bowl."

"I'll take those," she insisted. "You did a great job giving to me last night, now it's my turn." Soon I watched as Ann filled the bowl and floated the Ivory being sure that the solution got really pretty soapy, actually soapier than I would have done for myself.

I took off my robe and the bottoms of my pajamas just as Ann finished filling the bag. "Do you want the same position I used last night?" she asked inferring whether I wanted to bend over the hamper in the bathroom.

"I guess so. It seemed to work OK for you," I replied as Ann then hung the bulging red bag from the hook on the wall and got out the jar of Vaseline. Moments later I leaned over the hamper and my sister took a huge glob of Vaseline and worked it up into my bum. At first it startled me forcing me to take a deep breath, but then I relaxed and could feel that my orifice had dilated under the influence of the finger that had been thrust into it.

"I know it's not as good as when Rob does this to you, " Ann said as she inserted the nozzle.

"It might not have been, but it wasn't bad either," I thought to myself as I heard the familiar metallic click and began to anticipate the flow of the warm soapy solution that would soon be filling my insides. Seconds later the sensation arrived and about ten seconds after that the first cramp hit. "Slow it down, Ann," I pleaded.

She did as I asked. "Sorry, you OK now?"

The cramp passed and the enema continued. I was getting wetter and moved my right hand down to my clit, not only to check my wetness but to help with the sensation. My mind drifted to those times with Rob. As I fantasized that he was there in the bathroom administering the enema instead of my sister I drifted into an orgasm. "Oh, Oh, Ahhhh!" I moaned aloud.

I only came back to reality when I heard Ann giggle.

"Sorry, I guess I got carried away."

"I know. You thought Rob was here, right?"

"Yea, but how'd you know?"

"I've done the same thing thinking that Mark was giving me an enema. Only thing is that I'm alone when I do that."

"Looks like I've nearly taken the whole bag."

"It's never been a problem for you, Traci. But you know it's only been lately that I've ever been able to do that."

I looked down at my bulging tummy and pointed at it for Ann to see. "I think I see where it all is, too," I said with a little laugh. "Now it would be a good idea if I went and got rid of all this."

Ann took out the nozzle and I headed for the toilet. In just the minute or so it took for these events to occur I realized that the enema worked its wonders and was soon to yield its desired effect. I really had to go, and go really bad. No sooner had I sat down, when I let out the first wave. While I knew I hadn't been constipated, the enema sure took a surprising amount out of me. Then both Ann and I were startled to hear a knock at the door. "Traci, are you OK in there?" asked Mom. "Can I come in?"

"I'm fine, but sure, it's OK to come in."

"It didn't take you long to get Traci cleaned out," she said as she saw me sitting on the toilet. Then looking around the bathroom, she asked, "Smells like Ivory. That's what Grammy used for me and that's what I used for you girls growing up. It just never fails."

Just finishing letting out the last remnants of the enema, I couldn't help but think that Mom was right. Again! I cleaned myself up, got up from the toilet and was going to run the water for the shower, when Mom said, "You're not done yet, Traci."

"Yes, I am and I feel much better, too."

"No, you're not done yet. You probably still have soap left inside of you. You aren't done until you've also taken a clear water rinse enema. Don't tell me that you've forgotten about that."

Ann let out a nasty little giggle from where she'd been over at the sink.

Then I remembered during our later teenage years, Mom had heard about the idea of a clear enema to follow a soapy one. Soap was supposed to be irritating and this would clean out the last of the soap. Then bluffing it, I said, "I wasn't going to bother, but it would probably be a good idea."

As if on cue, Ann was already refilling the bag with just warm water. Moments later it was re-hung from the hook on the wall and I resumed my position over the hamper. Gosh, this was embarrassing with Mom now supervising things.

Ann, being the dutiful sister relubed the nozzle and reinserted it up my bum. Soon the water started and I was getting my second filling of the morning. Ann, I could see, was having a lot of fun and it was all at my expense. Truth be known, however, I adore the sensation of warm water filling my bottom.

"You're almost done, Traci, but Mom would be happier if you could take the whole bag," jibed Ann even though I had every intention of doing so.

"Don't worry about that. I know what I have to do," I told her perhaps just a bit curtly.

"As a child you never gave me a moments trouble," said Mom. "But as for Ann. Well, that's surely a different matter."

At this point the bag was empty for the second time this morning and my bowels were filled with warm water once again. It really wasn't necessary for me to hold this enema for very long and within seconds of Ann taking the nozzle out of me I was again on the toilet expelling.

"Ann, was a terror," I said returning the conversation of a few minutes prior. "She hated enemas." Then thoughts of mild revenge came over me. "Come to think of it, Ann, you didn't have a rinse enema last night after your soapy one, did you?" I asked feeling a need to get a little bit even with my sister.

"Well, I . . ."

"It's not so late that we can't fix that problem right now," responded Mom taking down the bag and going over to the sink. I looked up at the shocked expression on my sister's face and was convinced that justice would indeed be served.

After finishing getting rid of the second enema, I again cleaned myself up and put my pajama bottoms back on. Then turning to Ann, I smiled and said quite sarcastically, "OK, off with that robe, sister dear. It's once again enema time for you!"

Ann flashed me a dirty look as she took off her robe and leaned over the hamper. In the meantime Mom hung the bag for the third time this morning.

"This I've really got to see to believe. Ann being cooperative about an enema."

I quickly lubed Ann's bum, inserted the nozzle and began the flow. She didn't say a thing as the warm water traversed the short distance from the bag to her insides.

"See, Mom, she's being pretty good about it."

Ann was a bit flustered by now and her face was nearly the same color as the syringe. But she'd taken the whole bag without a murmur so I took out the nozzle and let her go expel. As she did so, I started the water for my shower, got undressed and got in. The shower felt wonderful and I washed my hair. After getting out I noticed that I was all alone.

After drying off and putting on my robe, I started to pick up the bathroom and saw the enema syringe hanging from the wall. Just as I was taking it down so I could dry it off, Mom came back into the bathroom. "I'll take care of that. You can just go ahead and get dressed," she said.

I picked up my clothes and headed for the bedroom. Mom shut the bathroom door behind me, but moments later I could have sworn that I heard water running.

CIT146@aol.com

- Chris -