This is a true story that happened about seventeen years ago when I was a sophomore in college.

On a night when I had a major psych test scheduled for 8:00 a.m. the next morning, I let some of my girlfriends in the dorm talk me into going out with them to have a few beers. They promised we'd be back early enough for me to have plenty of time to study so I tagged along. Of course, after several beers and a couple of joints those plans went out the window and we didn't make it back to the dorm until around midnight and in no condition to study. So I decided to set my alarm clock for 6:00a.m. which would give me about two hours to prepare for my test. But the next morning when the alarm blared at the crack of dawn, my reaction was to hit the snooze button....again and again and again....until the next thing I knew it was 7:45. I leaped out of bed in a state of panic. Here it was 15 minutes before my test, I was totally unprepared, not even dressed and slightly hung over to boot.

Well I knew that I couldn't afford to flunk a major test. I had excellent grades so far in college and did not want to wreck my g.p.r. , especially since I had decided to try to get into graduate school.

So the only thing I could think of was to try to get to the student infirmary by 8:00 and try to get a medical excuse for the day's classes. That would allow me to make up my test at a later date. But I had to hurry, so I threw on a navy blue pullover sweater, a pair of gray sweat pants and my jogging shoes and made a beeline for the infirmary.

When I got there I was glad to see that I was the only student that had come in that day so the nurse on duty took me in right away and led me to an examining room. She asked me what my problem was and I told her that I had a stomach ache and needed to be excused from my classes. She said that I would have to wait and see the doctor and then proceeded to take my temperature and blood pressure. She then left the room saying the doctor would be in shortly.

About a half hour later the doctor came in, asked a few questions, listened to my chest and poked around my upper and lower abdomen. One of the questions he asked was when I'd last had a BM. Wanting my story to sound believable, I lied and told him it had been a couple of days. So he diagnosed my "problem" as constipation, told me he would send the nurse in with something that would give me some relief and he would turn my excuse in to the dean's office and I could go back to the dorm and take it easy for the day.

I thanked him and he left the room. I thought I was home free. The nurse would bring me a mild laxative and I would go back to bed sleep until noon and have the rest of the day to study for my make-up test. But just as I was congratulating myself for having pulled a fast one, the nurse came back in the room. She walked over to the corner, took an i.v. stand and stood it at the foot table. Then ordered me to strip from the waist down and announced that she was going to have to give me an enema! I was in shock. I asked her if I couldn't just have a laxative instead, but she just smiled, shook her head and said, "sorry, doctor's orders".

Again she left the room leaving me alone and dying of embarrassment. I had little choice at that point but to comply. So I kicked off my jogging shoes and slipped out of my sweat pants and panties and got back up on the table in only my navy blue sweater which barely reached my hips.

After another short wait, she returned carrying a large plastic bag that was bulging with what looked like about two quarts of soapy water. Attached to the bag was a long clear tube that was around two or three feet long. She suspended the bag from the i.v. stand and snapped on a pair of latex rubber gloves then produced a tube of KY jelly. She told me to roll over on to my left side and draw my right knee up towards my chest. While I was obeying her, she squeezed out a blob of KY and lubricated her right index finger. I was about to die of embarrassment which much to surprise was making the ordeal all the more arousing. I had begun to get very moist. She the cupped my right cheek with her left hand and spread it. Telling me to relax, she worked her jellied finger into my quivering asshole up to about the second joint. She then withdrew her finger and squeezed out another glob of the KY and reached for the plastic tube which descended from the full bag. She thoroughly polished the end of the tube with the lubricant and again parted my right buttock with her free hand. I could her eyes narrow as she took aim at my defenseless asshole with the tube and gently placed it against my tiny opening.

She told me to take a deep breath and when I did, she slipped the greasy tube about three or four inches inside of my tight rectum. At this point I knew I was going to cum, it was just a question of when. She released the clamp and started giving me the enema. At first it felt kind of cold, but as the pressure began to build I began getting hotter and hotter. I was so amazed how the enema could be so uncomfortable yet feel so good at the same time. I didn't know how I was going to hide my orgasm from her when it came. I just laid there groaning in pain and moaning in pleasure. She was very professional the whole time. She kept telling me to relax and at one point told me to try to be still. Before the bag was two-thirds done I had the most intense orgasm of my life. She managed to empty the entire bag into me. As the last few drops trickled down the tube, she took the bag from the stand and standing on her tiptoes held the bag way up in the air the last of the water filtered down into me, then said , "good to the last drop."

She then told me to try to hold it in for five minutes. Then she pointed to a door and said there was a toilet in there I could use at that time. I was about to explode and the second she left the room I raced straight for the toilet where I let go with blast after blast of watery shit. To my surprise I came again on the toilet . I had been there about thirty minutes when the nurse cracked the door and asked if I was all right. I then cleaned up, got dressed, went back to the dorm, lay in bed and nearly rubbed my clit raw reliving the morning's incident. Since that day, enemas have been my obsession and passion.

Now seventeen years later I often think of the nurse and if she remembers the day the scared little coed had an orgasm in front of her while getting an enema and if she ever had had any idea how big of an impact that incident had on my life and my sexuality. I've also wondered about the doctor. Did he know I was faking to get out of class and order the enema to teach me a lesson. I'll never know, but if he did I'm eternally grateful.

Michelle