I want to thank you for your lovely letter. You are giving me my first chance to put my story on paper and to comment on my sexual preferences. Some of the things describe may shock some of your readers, but they didn't happen and I bet they will turn on quite a few people. For over ten years, I was a nurse in a mental institution. And at that time, I was quite good looking, but now I am getting paunchy and a bit flabby My job as a nurse included, of course, giving enemas as a part of the daily routine.

Regarding my personal interest in enemas, this is something which I started to like when I was still studying to be a nurse. I found that taking enemas several times a week was not only an effective remedy against constipation but that they were also beneficial to good health in general. I also discovered that enemas could be highly stimulating and conducive to much heightened sensual pleasure, and that they made masturbation definitely more rewarding. So it is not surprising that I started injecting warm water up myself when I felt the urge, just for the fun of it. And fun it was. I found enemas really delightful. First, I indulged in this unexpected pleasure at home, after work, and my desire for strong, satisfying orgasms became synonymous with the act of filling my belly with the contents of a bag of warm water. The mere idea of sticking a greased nozzle in my anus always makes my pussy salivate.

But it was not just the sweet fullness of the warm water caressing the inside of my tummy which I found arousing, after the growing anticipation I felt during my daily trip back to my flat. My anus itself had become more sensitive and responsive to stimulation, especially along the stretchable channel which runs from the mouth of the anus to the rectum proper, and a moderate amount of friction inside this channel did wonders for me, Since my vaginal nozzle was not thick enough to bring the desired results when inserted, and since I did not know where to find a dildo at this time, I soon found an object of the proper shape and thickness to use in there. It was the smooth and well polished handle of a big hair brush, about six inches long and one and a half in diameter, rounded at the end and a bit thicker in the middle than at the top. Back and forth it went in my increasingly responsive behind, while played with my love nest.

After a couple of minutes, this little exercise never failed to bring me to a sharp peak of pleasure. I would push most of the handle up my rectum when the tingling I felt in front grew past a certain point and hold it there by clenching my buttocks together. The resulting sensation was exquisite. Afterwards, I would look between my legs with the help of a small mirror and move my makeshift dildo back and forth again, till I had another climax. The sight of the object smoothly sliding in and out of my ass was terribly arousing for me. I wish I could have found a large enough nozzle to masturbate my behind while I took my enema, but this did not happened till I stated working at the mental institution. By then, I had become a full-fledged anal erotic and stimulating the little puckered mouth of my bottom was the main dish on my sex menu.

The mental hospital was located near a small village, in the middle of nowhere, in the South of England and the nearest city was fifty miles away, which meant that our social life and our chances for entertainment were both reduced to a strict minimum. We spent most of o free time in the small apartments furnished by the institution few blocks away from the main buildings. This would have been enough to drive a young woman like me crazy.

If one had a strong sexual appetite, and I did, the only solution was masturbation, or an intimate relationship with one of our sex starved female co-workers. The male orderlies were just a few notches above our congenital idiots and there was no love lost between them and the nurses. So, for the first few months, it was self administered enemas and masturbation. Rhonda, the head nurse of our ward, was a very attractive red head, in her early thirties. She took me under her wing. I was twenty five then, and craving for affection. I grew fonder of Rhonda by the week. Since I was responding eagerly to her advances, this led to increased intimacies and we eventually became lovers. She took the active role most of the time and since I was eager to experience the sensual delights two-women can give to each other, she found me an ideal pupil. I learned that she had been recently divorced the year beforehand that she considered plain intercourse too tame for her. Fortunately for both of us Rhonda was also an anal erotic, as fond of anilingus as of cunnilingus, and she was delighted when I told her that I loved enemas and anal play, She also loved mutual enemas, and since she possessed a powerful sex drive and an amazing capacity for climaxing, our affair became quite passionate. I spent most of my free time with her.

The private quarters reserved for the nurses at the hospital were clean and well appointed, and divided in several smaller rooms, which allowed us complete privacy during our rest periods or in between shifts.

Two or three times a week, Rhonda and I would lock ourselves in one of these rooms, to which she was entitled as one of the three head nurses of the different wards. It was equipped with a big tub, two toilets with showers, a large sofa and couch and individual lockers to keep our uniforms and gear. That is where we made love and gave each other lovely enemas, several times a week, without any fear of being disturbed in the process. We had two large latex bags and Rhonda had brought from the supply room several of the cock size nozzles some of the nurses used on the most obdurate idiots. They were nice and fat, and I could hardly wait to feel one pushed up my fanny. Rhonda could take the largest one in her pussy as well as in her ass, and even one in front and another in the rear, at the same time, when 1 made her real hot with -my mouth and my fingers, but it took me quite a while till I could do the same.

She would give one enema after the other and fuck my ass repeatedly with a middle sized one, till I begged her to lubricate me well and to use one of the large ones instead. The stretching and the friction was more than I had bargained for, and I wondered if I could really take it. It was painful, but I refused to give up. The pain was sharp at first, but Rhonda. was both gentle and firm and as the water started to fill me up, the big thing disappeared inch by inch in my behind and the back and forth motion turned into such a pleasure that I almost passed out! I had dreamed of this many, many times before and from then on, it was the big nozzles and a full bag of water every time we met. I always got my reward when it was my turn to fill her up. I really enjoyed to work one of those fat things up her big crinkled anus and to see it sink to the hilt while the water was running . She would rub her clitoris and reach frenzied climaxes, one after the other. At times, she would spank me before the enema or I would spank her. That made both of us extremely randy. She had firm, fleshy and resilient buttocks, and my hand stung as much as the skin of her as before she had enough. Sometimes, we would visit one of her previous lovers,. a nurse who worked now in another ward, and the three of us would indulge in extended sessions of lesbian love, with lots of cunt and ass sucking and licking, mutual spankings and enemas duets and trios. We would not stop till we were exhausted and fully satiated, and that took some doing.

All I Could See Around Me Was An Eerie Red Glow...

What follows is an authentic narration, in her own words, of the first large volume enema given to a 19 year old girl, which I wrote down several years later, when she confided in me. The psychological effect of such a traumatic experience is worth noting. Laura had eventually suppressed the memory of it in her conscious mind, but she had not really forgotten it when I met her. She simply avoided to think about it.

Laura grew fond of me, probably because I was considerate and very gentle, and I was soon able to give her enemas to add spice to our love making, after she welcomed my gradual and careful attempts at anal sex. After several months, I was able to get her to enjoy 3 quart enemas on numerous occasions. Visually, it was quite impressive, because of the conspicuous (and for me, visually exciting) change of shape the injection of such an amount of liquid brought to her thin figure. She was then 5'7" and her weight was a bit under 100 pounds. Her bowels must have been markedly larger than average, because she took those three quarts easily, while I was combining oral-genital stimulation with the enema. She relished this dual stimulation to such extent that she sometimes fainted for a few minutes while I stimulated her clitoris, which grew into a hard cone an inch long under my tongue.

She climaxed several times until her normally flat belly had swollen almost to the size of a pumpkin. I also introduced her to thicker nozzles, and she enjoyed that too, up to a smooth one a bit larger than my penis. This went for about a year, to our mutual satisfaction, when she had to go for another X-ray examination. Although this was only a standard lower G.I., it brought back the memories of the first one and caused her great apprehension. Because of her renewed and extreme anxiety, this second medical experience made her feel very bad, which I think was due this time much more to psychological reasons than to physical discomfort.

After all, did not Laura get a thrill from the many three quarts enema I had given her, the hotter the water, the better ?

It was then that she told me the story of her first enema at the hospital. She was able to recall vividly the most minute detail of this dreaded happening. Since this second X-ray examination, she has had no desire for enemas. On the few occasions she agreed to try to take one for me - and I was particularly tender and careful - she asked me to stop after two quarts and complained that she was getting cramps. I have not been able to help her overcome her mental block and we have regressed to a platonic friendship. Anyhow, here is her story:

Laura Tells....

I was 19, fairly attractive, but not beautiful. Most people thought I was too thin. I was then 5 8" and weighed between 97 and 99 lbs. I had gone to live in Rochester with my grand-parents, as there were serious problems at home. One Friday night, I felt a sharp, recurring pain in my abdomen, almost near my navel. The more I pushed on the spot where the pain bothered me, the more it hurt. It began to worry me, and I thought "This must be my appendix". But since it had already be removed several years before, it sure was a dumb guess.

On Saturday, it began to hurt even more, even when I did not move or poke. My grandmother sent me off to the doctor. On I went only because I was getting scared. I hate sickness, doctors, hospitals and anything medical scare the hell out of me. It is not rational but I can't help it. Our family doctor was a kind and gentle man, but I thought he was to old to keep practicing. He pressed and pushed on my stomach and asked me how long it had taken to heal after my appendix had been removed. I started thinking "oh, no! I hope they did not leave a part of it inside me." His diagnosis was adhesions, scar tissue binding the intestine to the abdominal wall. It seemed to fit. Now, what could be done about it?

He called the X-ray clinic at the hospital. That is where I told him "No way, you are not going to put me in the hospital".

"Would you go there just for two hours or so?" This sounded better. What could happen in such a short amount of time? He made the appointment and I went back home. When I read his prescription, I thought it did not make sense. "Take two tablespoons of castor oil (which I hate ) on the evening before your visit. Take soap suds enemas until you get a clear return the next morning."

I was not about to make my grandmother a party to my misfortune and I just told her about the appointment. The next morning, after suffering half of the night with the castor oil, I decided not to take the enemas. My anus was still store from going to the toilet so often during the night, and even though I did not dislike the infrequent enemas I had been given till then, I did not feel like sticking the pipe in my rear that morning. I took off for the clinic, rather anxious, but not really fearful, since I had been assured that X-rays were painless.

After entering a waiting room, I was whisked in a matter of minutes to a dressing room (undressing room would be a more appropriate term) by a kindly woman dressed in white pants and blouse. "Here is a gown to put on after you take off everything".

I wondered "You mean even my bra?"

"Yes," she said "Anything tight could make you uncomfortable". Then she pointed to a cubicle near by. I took off everything trying to figure out what she meant by this "Tight" and "Uncomfortable" business. I entered an inner waiting room, sitting there alone and shaking in my over large dressing gown or whatever they called it. The same kindly woman appeared again and led me into a partly darkened room. She helped me to climb on a long shiny black table which had a rubber pillow at one end. She told me to lie on my back and centered a X ray machine suspended from the ceiling over my abdomen. The room was dimly lighted, like a darkroom , and everything was bathed in an eerie red glow.

This kind of light ,s required to see the Pictures on the fluoroscope, and the injection of barium, a substance opaque to X rays, allowed to see clearly the outline of the bowels explained the nurse, with a soothing tone of voice. I felt somewhat reassured. I heard the sound of metal banging against something, and it seemed to me that she was moving something heavy. "All right, now lift your gown", she said. I felt a finger searching for my anus and a cool, greasy substance spread around the rim of my anus. Then she entered me with her gloved finger.

As it slid deeper into my ass, I noticed that it felt somewhat different than when I pushed my own up there, which I often did when masturbating. Her finger was bigger and longer than mine and the tip of it went farther up, into what felt like a deep, internal sphincter and it was tickling my insides in a new way. What could I use to reach there myself?

"Now, I am going to put some of the tube in. Just relax. It won't hurt at all if you push out as it goes in", and with that, she put the tip of the tube inside my rear opening, and slowly, very slowly and gently, but with a steady hand, she pushed in what felt like a pleated balloon. She twisted it in, and it did not feel bad at all, and I am sure I would have fully enjoyed it under more pleasant conditions. "Now you can turn over while I get the doctor", she added; but before leaving, she gave a few squeezes to a black shiny bulb which was attached to what she had introduced in my rectum, and I felt the balloon inflate. It felt odd, but not unpleasant. I wondered if she would make it much bigger than that. How would it feel to masturbate with a fully inflated one pressing from the inside against my vagina? Even the pain in my belly had markedly diminished at this point. Where could I get such a balloon nozzle like that?

Then I became curious about what was attached to the other end of the tube. My eyes followed the transparent gray filled plastic hose, and in the dim reddish haze behind the X ray machine I noticed what looked like a huge translucent bag somewhat similar to a hot water bottle, but much larger. I heard the nurse buzz the doctor on an intercom. "She is all ready for you, doctor" she announced in a cheerful voice. "Oh no, I am not" I thought.

"Hello, I am Doctor Masterton. Please turn over your left side and we will get started. Nurse, we can start."

I heard something click and a cold liquid started running inside me. It soon became warmer and that felt somewhat better. What a strange feeling though. "Stop". the flow was interrupted and the X ray machine, now pushed near my left side, buzzed momentarily and a green outline flashed. "Okay, let's start again.'

The slow moving column of heavy, pasty liquid pushed further up my colon. "Hold it". Another greenish picture, and this time I noticed that the black outline of the barium was definitely larger. After two more "Okays", which was the signal for the nurse to open the valve, my whole left side felt heavy and bloated and my stomach was flopping over onto the table. "Are you almost done?"

"Oh no," was the matter of fact reply. "Now, please lie on your back." I did and this was more comfortable. The barium seemed to stay put. I heard a click again and the column of liquid pushed slowly across my abdomen. I was getting really heavy now.

"Now, turn on your right side. Nurse, increase the inflation a little." The balloon in my rectum grew larger, but painlessly. For a fleeting moment, I thought that I would like to get an inflatable nozzle later and experiment with it while masturbating. The pressure of it against my womb felt sexy and made me almost forget the heaviness of the injection, but the relentless flow took over again. "Maybe the bag will be soon empty." I hear myself mutter. "Hell no!" as I gave it a glance. The bloody bag was still half full. "How much more do I get".

"All what is needed to fill you up".

I protested: "But I am filled up right now!"

"Not really. We have to fill up all the bends." I was afraid my scar would burst. The nurse rolled me on my back again and told me to relax and to take deep breaths through my mouth. The flow started again. " We are almost finished with your lower colon," I heard.

"But I can't take any more!" I tried hard but a minute later I almost shouted. "I told you that I cannot take anymore".

"We are almost done," said the doctor.

"But you said that a minute ago," I yelled, and I started to cry. At long last, the flow stopped. "We need to take a few more plates."

The X ray machined whirred as I was rolled over on my right and left sides. I just could not lie on my stomach. It was too swollen and hard as a punching ball by then. "Okay, that's over". I really did not know how I made it.

"Now we have to look at your upper intestine. You are going to feel a little full but after that we will let the barium out. We can start and stop, but you will feel better if we just get it over with. Hold it, Snap! Good". Off went Miss Kindly with another plate, "Oh, God!" That's all I could think.

"It will soon be over," she said with a soothing tone. as she, opened the clamp once more. There was no more flowing feeling, just a steady, even increase of pressure. My bloated intestines pushed against my taught skin, and my erotic thoughts vanished.

"How much ?" I heard her ask the doctor.

"Almost four. She has an exceptionally large colon for a girl her size, but I think it will do." I had no idea of what they were talking about, and even if I had been told that they were referring to four quarts of liquid, it would still have been meaningless, since I did not know the average capacity of the bowels. I had never taken more than two quarts. at the most, and it felt like plenty. I was more ambitious once, but I got cramps. The monstrous bag, reddish under the faint light, was almost empty. All I knew is that I had never felt so completely full and that it was hurting more and more.

Finally, the pressure seemed to decrease as my overly distended large intestine pushed a part of its contents upwards through the iliac valve ( I learned the name of it later). The pain was less severe. A few more plates and my ordeal was over. "Now we are going to let it out." This was music to my ears. A strange impulse got hold of me.

"Let me sit up." They agreed and I was surprisingly amazed and I would even say pleased, to see that my once flat tummy and stomach had turned into a huge and tight balloon which protruded so much in front of me that I could not see the familiar triangle of hair above my pussy.

Even though they wanted to drain my intestines on the table, I insisted to go to the bathroom on my own power. The nurse helped me., because I felt so heavy, but I barely made it on time . When I slid off the table, the motion pulled and stretched all kinds of muscles I never knew I had around my intestines. The back of my gown became wet as the tremendous pressure forced out a gush of the thick whitish barium outside. I tightened my ass hole as much as I could but it did not help much. After I sat on the toilet, I opened the gown to observe again my stomach over-hanging and hiding a part of my thin thighs. It was really an incredible sight!

Once emptied, or at least I thought so, I had to return on the table for more pictures, before sitting again on the toilet for at least fifteen minutes. More and more barium came down. Eventually, I took a cab and went home. Everything still hurt. My virgin ass and insides had been violated in a most outrageous way and I hated the bastards who had done that to me.

Later on I learned that the procedure they used on me, overfilling my intestine to bypass the iliac valve, was actually a cruel. experiment without medical justification.

My only consolation was that I knew I had taken without a doubt the largest possible enema for a girl my size and I swore that I would never agree to be submitted to such a procedure again. I could not imagine that a few years later, Ken would convince me to try enemas again and that he would teach me to enjoy them, So on, it was three quarts running up my belly most every time and with such sexy results that if be sucked my clit when the water was filling me up, I did not feel any pain, to the contrary. Being invaded this way in my backside made me cream better than I could have ever imagined in my wildest dreams. I got hooked on big enemas

Yet, Miss X (she did not even want her first name used) did not completely forget the trauma of this cruel initiation to large volume enemas. We hope that this painful , memory will disappear for good, and that Miss X will soon be able to enjoy again the gentle love enemas of her lovers and will indulge freely in what had become such a great kick for her.

As told to Miss Pepper