A Change And A Warning
A Change And A Warning
There is nothing fictional about this story. It's actually happening to me, and I have not embellished it at all.
I’m well past 60, and enemas have always been part of my life. My earliest memory of anything at all was when I was 3 years old getting an enema from my mom with her enema bag, as my dad watched. It must have been quite traumatic, as I don’t have any other memories before I was 4 ½.
I've been married to my 3rd wife for more than 10 years. I made certain that each of my wives would give me enemas before I married them, because I knew I needed that. None of them were really into it, and never wanted to be on the receiving end. While I would have liked to give them an enema now and then, I was satisfied with our arrangement with me as the receiver. Primarily, I got enemas as foreplay before sex.
About 5 to 6 years ago there were some big life changes for me. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure and type 2 diabetes. When I started taking medications for these conditions, I began having erectile dysfunction problems. I used both Viagra and Cialis for sex. After a few months, both of them stopped working.
About that time, my wife was going through menopause, and became disinterested in sex. I still had sex drive, but I was pretty useless to a woman, which didn’t matter to her. I could still get hard enough to masturbate, which I needed to do to take care of my needs, which were driving me nuts.
Fortunately for me, my wife had ideas about taking care of her husband that have worked out for me. I’ve always been plagued with chronic constipation, and enemas have been the therapy of choice. So, once or twice a week my wife has given me from 1 to 4 enemas. Now, she makes me masturbate during the final enema, as she massages my prostate with the nozzle. It has been satisfying, given my current conditions.
I had always wanted her to be more dominant and give me punishment enemas with a good amount of cramping, as that is what I had gotten from my mother when I was a kid. My wife was not the dominant type, and didn’t want anything to do with that. She did give me enemas that made me cramp, but when the cramping started, she soon ended the enema. That worked for me, because once the cramping began I truly wanted it to end. My fantasies were well beyond my reality.
In the last few weeks, things have changed again. She has become dominant. Just so you know, I have always gotten my enemas in the knee/chest position, because that was how my mother did it. The nozzles are bigger and the volume is larger, but everything else is pretty much the same as it was when I was a kid.
We have a little 5 minute hourglass timer that has now become quite intimidating for me. She was giving me an enema a couple of weeks ago, and when I started cramping, she stopped the flow and handed me the little hourglass. I had to put it on the floor next to me, and start it. For 5 agonizing minutes, I had to watch it empty as the cramps rolled through me. Time stopped! It seemed like it took forever to finish. When it was empty she released me to the toilet. Wow, was that an experience. It was a true punishment enema in every sense of the word.
As I said, in the past I had asked her to be more dominant and give me punishment enemas. This time, I really got one. Shortly thereafter, we had a conversation wherein she asked if I still wanted her to give me punishment enemas. I said that I did, and we agreed that I will be under her control from now on. Whenever I upset her, she will punish me with enemas. I was somewhat skeptical about what would really happen, because I've heard it before.
The very next evening, I said something that upset her just a little. She followed me down to the bathroom to give me a punishment enema. When I was on my hands and knees getting the enema, I knew this was the real thing. I was being punished and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The first part felt good, but when the cramps began, they hurt something awful.
Our 4 quart silicone enema bag holds nearly 5 quarts. A good enema for me is about 3 quarts. She got 3 ½ quarts into me before she let me start the timer. After, 5 minutes of horrible cramping, she released me to the toilet, with instructions to make another enema when I was finished. She always makes me prepare my own enemas. She says it has good mental and emotional effects. She’s right.
Here's the thing. Sometimes, I really do not want an enema when she sends me to prepare one. But, I've always been a little fearful that if I fail to obey her, she might quit giving me enemas, entirely. That's the last thing I want. So, I take the bad with the good. I call it bad, because I don't feel like getting it. Later, I'm always glad she did it. Anyway, I did promise to always mind her for enemas when we got married.
So, about 20 minutes later, I had another enema ready, and I informed her. This time, when I was in position, she told me that since I had learned my lesson, she wanted me to cum during the enema. She started massaging my prostate with the nozzle, and I ejaculated with almost 3 quarts of soapy water in me. Then, she released me to the toilet.
Three days ago, she gave me another enema just to make me cum. Let me preface what comes next by saying that after I cum, I’m completely out of the mood for enemas or anything that's sexual. When she started the enema, she immediately began working the nozzle, which pretty much forces me to cum. I think I ejaculated with less than a quart of water in me. But, she held me in position and continued the enema until she had given me more than 3 quarts, and I was severely cramping. It wasn’t fun. This was something new, and I didn’t say anything about it.
About an hour later she asked me how I felt. I told her I felt good. Then she pointed out a very minor disagreement we had, earlier. Actually, it was more that she didn’t like my tone when I asked her a question. She had never ever confronted me about anything that way. During the 10 minute scolding that followed, she warned me that in the future she would punish me for things like that. Her quiet, resolute tone, made it crystal clear that she really meant it. She left no doubt in my mind that this change is for real, and it’s permanent.
After years of trying to get her to be like this, her sudden leap to dominance has been a huge surprise and an even bigger change in our life. I’m in for it, and I’m finding that it’s scary, as I don't know what's coming next, or when. Thank God, she doesn’t like to spank. Her punishment enemas are quite enough.
So, you guys who want your wives to give you enemas, don’t give up hope. I’ve read somewhere that women often become more dominant as they age. If this can happen to me, it can happen to others. You just have to keep asking, every once in awhile.
Last night we were having a bit of a somewhat intense discussion about our current houseguests who have worn out their welcome. Suddenly, she told me I was getting worked up, and ordered me to go make an enema. Yikes! I was in no mood for that. When I didn't move, she got more assertive and loudly told me to go get an enema ready. I wanted to refuse, but I knew I was in for a battle that I couldn't win. Reluctantly, I went to our bedroom, undressed, and made a soapy enema, and waited for her. (my avatar is a picture of our enema bag hanging on the back of the bathroom door, where it normally hangs when I'm getting it.) Finally, she came in. Without a word she sat down on her stool and picked up the nozzle. She pointed at the floor in front of her, and I got down in my normal knee/chest position. She slid the nozzle into me and started the flow. She has a higginson syringe at the end of the hose, so she can squeeze the water into me. The nozzle is a Beth Tyler nozzle that sprays out on both sides. She kept squeezing and squeezing. I could feel the spray inside of me as I slowly filled. As I started to get full, the cramps began. I was moaning and twisting in distress. She stopped the flow for a few minutes to let me feel the cramping. Then, she let me up, and left the room. I could see that I had taken 3 quarts, which is down to the top of the shell. The Klystra bag has stretched to the point that it holds a full 5 quarts. I have never taken more than 4 quarts, and that much only once or twice. When I finished expelling and cleaned up the bathroom. I refilled the enema bag, and called her. Our rule, or her rule, is that I must keep refilling the bag until she tells me we're through. So, I was back in position, and filled to my limit once again. It was a repeat of the first enema. To my surprise, when she let me up, she told me we were finished. I think it might have had something to do with the late hour. I get the feeling that she is not really through with me for this event. We'll see what happens over the next few days.