My interest in enemas goes back to my earliest childhood.

As I grew older I began experimenting with enemas, using the brown rubber fountain syringe and douche nozzle which hung conveniently on the back of the bathroom door. During the school holidays when both my parents were at work, I would give myself enema after enema, trying out different ingredients from soap flakes to olive oil and gradually building my capacity up from 1 quart to 2 and so on. It was at this time, when I was 18 years old. that the incident that I would like to share with you took place.

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It was a hot Monday in July and I had just come from boarding school for the long summer holidays. Both my parents had gone to work for the day and after a cup of coffee I put the answering machine on and went into the bathroom for what I intended to be a long and leisurely enema session. I unhooked the enema bag from the back of the bathroom door and filled a large plastic jug with warm water. I opened the box of soap flakes that my mother kept in the bathroom and poured a handful into the jug, swishing them round to dissolve them. Then I filled the bag, opened the clip to let the air out and after lubricating my bottom and the nozzle with Nivea, I hung the bag on the towel rail with a coat hanger and lying on my left side I slowly inserted the douche nozzle all the way in. It felt cool and hard inside me. Taking a deep breath I opened the clamp and felt the warm soapy water flow into me.

Soon I had taken in the whole quart and it was time for a refill. I shut off the flow and holding the nozzle in my butt refilled the jug with plain water. It was at that moment that I decided to try and see if I could take three quarts for the first time in my life, so after refilling the enema bag I again filled the jug and set it down on the floor by the towel rail.

Before I had taken two thirds of the second bag, the soap began to cause cramps. I had to shut off the flow two or three times and pant hard but eventually the bag was empty. Part of me wanted to stop there, but by now I was also highly aroused and I decided to go for the third quart.

I was too full to stand up so I slid round on the floor to the towel rail and, propping myself up on my side, emptied the bag into the jug. The movement produced a violent urge to expel the enema and I had to lie on my back and raise my butt in the air clenching my cheeks around the nozzle. Eventually the contractions subsided and I was able to undo the clip again. This time I began to feel a sense of fullness that I had never before experienced. Looked down I saw my whole belly distended as if in the last stages of pregnancy. The pressure inside me was so great that the flow from the bag down the tube had almost stopped. I was just wondering whether I could move far enough to raise the bag without starting another wave of contractions when I heard the doorbell ring.

I shut off the clamp and lay still and then to my horror I heard the front door of our apartment opening and a girls voice calling my name. I remembered my father telling me as he left that the newspaper was on the doorstep. He must have left the door ajar thinking I was going to go out and get it! I lay still and then I heard the same voice calling in a playful way "Mickey, I know you're home - your mom called me and told me - its no good hiding." It couldn't have been worse for it was my cousin Susan who was 20, two years older than me. I had had a crush on her for the past year or so and often fantasized about her though when I saw her I was often too embarrassed to speak. She seemed to like me though and I knew that I would die if she saw me like this.

Trying to sound as normal as possible I called out to her: "Susan Is that you? Take a seat in the kitchen, I'm just getting dressed. Be with you in a minute." Then I quickly pulled out the nozzle and left it dangling in the jug as I crawled on hands and knees down the corridor to the toilet which was separate from the bathroom. I sat down with my head between my knees and gushed out pint after pint of hot soapy water. I squeezed as hard as I could to expel the enema but after five minutes or so I knew that Susan would start to get suspicious if I didn't come out so I wiped myself, flushed the toilet and quickly pulled on some clothes.

I went into the kitchen trying to look as normal as possible. Susan was sitting there drinking a cup of coffee and looking ravishing. She had long blonde hair and pale skin and was wearing a very short skirt which showed off her long brown legs. I couldn't look her in the eyes and trying to sound casual I said "Hi Susan, how about a coffee?"

She laughed and held up the mug and said " Why you silly boy, what do you think this is? How about a kiss for your favorite cousin?" I went forward shyly hoping that she would mistake the flush in my cheeks for an embarrassed blush. I pecked her on the cheek, her skin felt cool against my lips and I could smell her perfume. As I bent over her the rest of the enema struck and I couldn't help doubling up. I knew that if I didn't go to the toilet I would explode right there in the kitchen and so I ran out of the room calling behind me. "I'll be right back, I've got a bit of an upset stomach."

I just made it in time and once again exploded noisily into the john. This time I knew I had to expel all of the enema and I squeezed and strained as hard as I could. Every time I stood up thinking I was empty I would have to sit down again and let out another stream. Finally after what seemed like a lifetime I was finished and I flushed the toilet and stepped out into the corridor. At that precise moment Susan came out of the bathroom where she must have gone to check her makeup. I literally froze inside when I realized that she must have seen the enema bag hanging from the towel rail. She gave me a long piercing stare and then, saying nothing went into the living room. I followed hoping that she might have been too embarrassed to say anything and that we could both pretend that nothing had happened.

As soon as I sat down she said: "I know what you've been up to and I think we need to talk about this some more. I'm going to take you out to a movie later this week and we'll talk about it then." She saw I was going to try and say something but interrupted me before I could speak. "Don't argue and you'd better come when I call or I'll have to tell my aunt and uncle what their boy has been up to during his vacations!" With that she turned and walked out of the door.

Later that evening I was having dinner with my parents when the phone rang. I knew who it was before my mom answered it so was not surprised when she said, "Its your cousin Susan. She wants to take you to a movie on Wednesday night. She says she'll pick you up around 7.00 is that OK?" I nodded meekly, trying to look pleased.

I passed the next two days in a state of extreme agitation, wondering what was going to happen on our date. I thought that Susan would probably ask me all sorts of embarrassing questions about why I was giving myself enemas and I was not looking forward to having to explain.

Finally, Wednesday evening came and at 7.00 precisely the door-bell rang. I kissed my mom good night and she said, "Don't stay out too late- have a nice time." Little did she know !

I went down and got into the car. My heart was beating and I didn't know what to expect but Susan gave me a warm smile when I climbed in and chatted to me as if everything was perfectly normal. I began to relax and as I did so I noticed how stunning my cousin was looking. She was wearing a short tight black dress that showed off her long legs and black high-heeled strappy sandals. I thought how nice it would be to stroke her thighs. My dreams were interrupted as the car drew up outside Susan's apartment. She opened the door and led me through a hall into a living room where there was another girl sitting in a chair drinking a glass of wine. "This is my friend, Michelle, Michelle this is Mickey."

The girl smiled at me and said "Hi, Mickey there's a beer in the fridge if you'd like one, help yourself." I took a beer and came back into the room to find the two girls chatting over a glass of wine. Michelle looked as though she was a couple of years older than Sarah. She was slightly plumper but by no means fat and looked quite attractive with short dark hair, a slightly turned up nose and brilliant blue eyes. After a while there was a lull in the conversation and Sarah turned to me and said; "Well Mickey you know why you're here don't you?"

I certainly didn't want to discuss the enema incident of the other day in front of Michelle so I kept quiet feeling my cheeks flush.

"Its all right, Mickey, Michelle knows all about what you've been up to. I've told her everything. You see Michelle's studying to be a nurse. She said that it can be quite dangerous to give yourself an enema if you don't know how to do it properly and as she can use the practice anyway she thought that it might be a good idea if she were to give you some training and I'm going to be her assistant."

I thought that I was going to die of embarrassment. I stared at the floor and began to explain that it had just been a one-off thing and that I would never give myself an enema again when Susan interrupted me and said : "There's no point in arguing unless you want me to tell your parents and friends at school, so go into my bedroom - it's the last door on the left and take off all your clothes - and I mean everything."

Having no choice I went down the hall to Susan's bedroom and shutting the door began to undress. I noticed that spread over the bed was a brown latex sheet like the ones that some of the boys at school who wet their beds had to cover their mattresses. I hung my shirt over the back of a chair and saw that the dressing table had been covered with a towel on which sat a number of objects. There was a tub with a screw top lid, a perspex bowl and a jug, some surgical gloves and a big black rubber enema bag. It was larger than the one we had at home and at the end of the tube was a large fluted white douche nozzle. Also next to it was another kind of enema that I had not seen before. It looked like a long tube made out of red rubber and in the middle was a rubber ball. I remember thinking that Susan and Michelle must have planned this carefully in advance and I blushed as I thought about them discussing me.

There was still no sign of either of them, so I sat down on the bed . The rubber sheet felt cool and clammy against my naked thighs and I tried to take my eyes off the objects on the dressing table as I felt my cock stiffen. At that moment the door opened and the two girls came in. I crossed my hands in an attempt to hide my hard-on but neither seemed to take any notice. Michelle spoke first, she ignored me and said to Susan "First I want to do a rectal examination. This is just to make sure he doesn't have any local problems such as piles which might make an enema inadvisable, also we can check on how full he us."

Then she slipped on one of the surgical gloves, unscrewed the lid from the jar and taking a big glob of what looked like a thick white cream on her index finger she told me to turn onto my stomach and draw my knees up to my chest. She inserted her finger deep inside me and then moved it round, thoroughly probing every inch of my rectum. She kept rubbing her finger over what I now know to be my prostrate until I thought I was going to come. Finally she withdrew her finger and told me to stand up and come over to the dressing table.

I walked over to Michelle trying to cover my crotch with my hands. Susan looked at me and said to Michelle "Do many of your patients get excited like Mickey ?"

Michelle replied : "Quite a few of the men do but I usually pretend I haven't noticed because they get so embarrassed." Then she turned to me and picking up the red rubber tubing she said : "This is called a Higginson syringe and we're going to use this first to give you a really good clean out, so pick that bowl up and come with me into the bathroom."

I followed Michelle down the hall carrying the perspex bowl. When we got to the bathroom she produced a bottle of liquid soap and told me to fill the bowl with soap and water. I couldn't believe that she was making me prepare my own enema but I clearly had no choice so I turned on the taps and added some soap to the bowl. Michelle came over, swished her fingers in the water and said :"If you want the enema to do its job properly the water needs to be hotter and soapier." She took the bottle from my hand and squirted more soap into the basin and turned up the hot tap until the basin was brimming with hot soapy water. Then she made me carry the bowl back into the bedroom, place it on the rubber sheet and lie down beside it. She made me lie on my left side with my knees drawn up and Susan held my cheeks apart as Michelle inserted the nozzle. Then she said, "OK Mickey, I'm going to start now."

She began to pump the bulb and each time she squeezed I could feel the warm, soapy water squirting into my backside. There was also a gurgling sound from the syringe as it sucked up water from the bowl. My cheeks were flushed and I thought that I was going to come with each pump of the bulb. My pleasure soon turned to pain, however, as the enema produced spasmodic cramps. Each time Michelle would stop pumping and hold the tube, pressing the nozzle into me and telling me to breathe deeply. Once or twice Susan bent over me and stroked my head. When the bowl was empty, Michelle pulled the enema tube out and said: "Now Mickey, I think you can take a little more. Susan, will you refill this for me?"

While Susan was out of the room, Michelle leant over me and massaged my abdomen. She said "Just try to relax, you're almost there."

When Susan came back, Michelle squirted another half bowl into me until I felt I could take no more. My whole stomach was blown up to the point where I felt I could hardly breathe. Then she looked at her watch and said: "OK Mickey, to give it a chance to work properly I'm going to ask you to hold it for 10 minutes, then you can go to the toilet." It was the longest 10 minutes of my life. The cramps came in waves that made me wriggle and writhe on the bed while the two girls watched me. After about 5 minutes I started to get up and dash for the toilet but Michelle must have read my mind as she turned the key in the lock and then removed it from the door, saying, "Be a brave boy, only a couple more minutes."

Finally they let me run to the toilet and both watched as I gushed pint after pint into the bowl. I felt empty and quite exhausted as Michelle filled the bidet and made me wash myself. She went out and returned with the large black enema bag that I had seen on the dressing table and said: "Soap can irritate the colon, especially if the solution is quite concentrated like the one that I've just given you. Its always important to take 2 or 3 plain water enemas afterwards to wash it all out."

Once again to my embarrassment she made me fill the big black enema back this time with cooler water and carry it into the bedroom holding the bag in one hand and the white douche nozzle in the other with the black tubing dangled against my legs as I walked. When I got to the bedroom she asked me to hand the bag to Susan. Then she made me pick up the jar and lubricate the nozzle. Once again she put me in the knee chest position and told me to breathe deeply as she pushed the long fluted nozzle into my rear, twisting it as it went in. "Now," she said, "I'm going to ask you to roll onto your back being careful not to put your foot on the tubing."

I raised my top leg and rolled onto my back. Michelle stood between my legs with one hand on the clip that shut off the water and the other holding the nozzle to stop it slipping out. She told Susan to stand with the bag by my head. She came round beside me and I could smell her scent. I became more and more excited as she leaned over me resting the full enema bag on my chest. I could hear the water sloshing around inside it. Her blonde hair brushed my face and she ran her cool fingers through my hair. "Poor little Mickey," she said with a soft smile, "Look at the state you're in, you are really excited by all this, aren't you?"

I remember Michelle telling her not to raise the bag too high as it was very large, 4 quarts, and she wanted to make sure that I took it all in. Then she opened the clip and the cool water started to flow inside me. I kept looking at my beautiful cousin holding the bag as she gazed straight into my eyes and wished that I could make my cock go down.

As the water flowed in, Susan began to massage my abdomen. As she did so, I could here the water slushing inside me just as it had done in the enema bag. The bag took a very long time to empty and Michelle had to snap the clamp shut to stop the flow three or four times when I thought I could take no more. They didn't make me retain it for as long this time but when I got up I was so full that I could not walk and the two girls half dragged me doubled up to the toilet.

They gave me three more cold water enemas. After I had expelled the third, Michelle told me to stand up and she looked into the toilet to check that the water was completely clear before saying, "OK you’re done."

I was then given a bed bath with a soapy sponge and a washing up bowl. Michelle dried me, lubricated my anus with Vaseline and then sprinkled me with powder to stop any soreness. My cock was as stiff as a ramrod and Susan said: "Look at poor Mickey. Do you always leave your patients in that state?" Susan replied that she rarely became involved with her patients but occasionally she would help them out if they were desperate. Then she put on some clean examination gloves and taking a large glob of lubricant, put one finger up my ass and with the other began to stroke my cock.

Susan said "You've been a good boy Mickey" and leaning over me kissed me full on the mouth just as I exploded into Michelle's hand.

I felt totally empty as Michelle cleaned me off with a tissue and then Susan told me to get dressed as it was time to take me home.

I didn't see Susan again that summer as my parents took me away on vacation. In the fall, I heard that she had married and although I met her at family gatherings from time to time, she never referred to our strange date. She now lives in France with her husband and three teenage children. I often wonder if her friend Michelle ever goes to visit and if they teach her family the same lesson that I learnt years ago.