Hard to find what I find most arousing in porn, but I’ve been lucky enough to have it in real life a number of times (never enough, and I will always crave more, but am immensely grateful for having had what I had at all).
I love the anticipation, as others have mentioned. Knowing that an enema or, better still, more than one, no matter what, is going to happen and I will have to submit to its/their inevitable cramps, fullness, and indescribable pleasure, is always a great way to start. I may dread them and worry whether my bitchy GI tract will cooperate or not, but I look forward to the experience every time. I can feel a warm sensation in my tummy and between my legs week before the actual day of. Butterflies? Whatever it is, I find the awareness that everything inside me will be removed by the large amounts of water and soap, m&m, or whatever is deemed necessary by the giver very much a turn on (these feelings are almost identical whether the enemas are done for medical purposes, which is why most of them happen, or given by a loving partne for pleasure or punishment or attitude adjustment). Sometimes I am prescribed oral laxatives or given suppositories to help my bowels be at least partially clean before the enemas. I hate the oral stuff for the most part, but I submit to that, too, knowing it’s necessary to make sure the process works as it should. I do enjoy suppositories, even when they cause really strong discomfort and cramps or make the enema harder to hold.
The feelings that precede the administration of the enema(s) are nothing compared to knowing that the nozzle will be inside me in a few minutes‘ time. That’s another highly “electric“ moment.
Finally its time for me to lay on my left side, with very little on, or completely naked: this depends on whether it’s a medical thing and it’s a doctor or nurse who is going to give me my enema/s, in which case I am wearing a little gown, and white sheets protect whatever modesty I am clinging on to, even though my cheeks are exposed and their nakedness feels even more noticeable. I’m naked if it’s my partner who is going to take charge of my clean outs. All enemas are clean outs for me, or I like to think they will be. I love feeling free and vulnerable with my partner.
So I lay on my left side and focus on relaxing whatever muscles in my body I can. This is when reality hits me and I get most aroused if I am with my partner and I know that nothing will stop the solution from filling me. I don’t get aroused when it’s a medically necessary procedure but I get into a similarly submissive state of mind. It has to happen and there’s no point in fighting it.
A deliberate and decisive finger or two rub Vaseline or some other lube on my anus first, and enter me and add more lube inside me. Oftentimes, the other hand of the giver is spreading my cheeks open but will do it myself if it’s my partner. As the fingers are rubbing Vaseline inside me, I may have my tummy palpated and I am asked if I am feeling any pain or discomfort, and told to relax. I know that the answer won’t really matter to a doctor unless it’s really agony that I feel, and they keep palpating to assess fullness or lack thereof and that touch is deep and somewhat invasive, way more than the fingers in the rectum.
The nozzle is next. Obviously. Finally. I close my eyes and relax, and take slow, deep breaths as the object of variable sizes and shapes is being inserted inside me. This part is incredibly good when it’s my partner and I and the enema is done for our pleasure only. What follows and what I am going to describe will only be about this type of enema(s).
The nozzle is in. I may squirm a little but I usually just let out a soft moaning noise and keep on breathing deeply and slowly. I may touch my clit or use a magic wand gently press against it, or my partner will. The clamp is open and I start to feel the solution flow inside me. Assuming no suppository and the urge they cause have been in the picture beforehand, the first couple of quarts are easy to take. My partner will probably rub my tummy and lift the bag up and down, or slow the flow by partially closing the clamp. The massage, even when deep and administered by his strong fingers pushing against my fillin, stretching tummy, feels glorious. I moan more loudly and he will encourage me to do so.
If it’s the first enema and I have not had a BM beforehand, after the first couple of quarts I will start to feel like I am really full. I will say so but I’m lovingly reminded that I need to take the whole bag (or as much of it as possible) for the enema to do its job. Cramps usually start to get noticeable around now.
I may be allowed to take a break, the nozzle firmly held inside me and the clamp fully closed, but I may not. If it’s a punishment enema (which is not a punishment, really, but rather a rougher and crampier one) a break may be needed or my insides will spasm too soon for me to be able to take much solution at all. My partner will ask me how I am feeling and make sure I am ok, but can also read my non verbal language and act accordingly. I’m usually pretty happy to talk through the whole enema, but recently I have learned to appreciate just the soothing voice of the person who I trust with what is ultimately one of the most intimate acts that two lovers can share. I moan and let him take over.
My enemas are typically 4 quarts, more or less. Halfway through the bag, and being filled with hot, soapy water, the struggle is real. But it’s what I want and it’s what I know I need to thoroughly enjoy the experience and get cleaned out as I should be from the beginning and be ready to take more and deeper enemas later. I am aware of that but I find it erotic to be reminded that whatever discomfort I may be experiencing is necessary for me to benefit from my enema fully (let’s be clear: this is true for me and these statements only apply to my partner and I and they are not things that I suggest everyone should want/need/do unless they are consensual and informed acts. Everything I describe here is the result of extensive communication and exchanges and experimenting with my partner, and is done because we both want it to happen exactly the way it does). I’m encouraged by him to relax and to get lost in the feelings of the solution filling me, of opening my body to it and letting it do its job. He can tell if I am starting to be re uncomfortable and will rub my back and cheeks, slow do the flow a little (I know my body and I will use our safe word if needed, but I also know that I want to be pushed a little, and that I objectively derive much more pleasure and relief by taking my whole bag or as close to that amount as I can).
My partner will keep being firm and loving, and praise me for having made it this far, and will hold my hand or rub my tummy as the last quart or so make its way deep inside my colon. I get giggly and feel a big rush as I feel the water stretch my whole tummy and may grab my partner’s hand, not just because I want to hold it, but to have him ”trace” my bowel as I tell him what each part is, and mock “teaching“ him my anatomical nerdy knowledge. He is quite schooled in anatomy by now but indulges me in this simple activity because he knows that it helps me hold the enema longer and it distracts me from the cramps and the fullness.
He holds the nozzle inside me or quickly replaces it with a large plug. I am in a very special place if I have got it this far and I am both suffering and extremely aroused. I listen to my body and adjust my position to be able to relax as much as possible. Sometimes that involves getting on all 4s, or in the knee chest position, but I have learned to appreciate the pleasure that simply being on my side gives me.
This is when my partner shows me how well he knows what I need. I need not to think and surrender to the enema and prepare f what is going to happen a few min later. I need not to think and just moan, pant, breathe, touch myself, or him, or all of those things. He will keep encouraging me, and remind me how good the catharsis will feel.
As he senses that I really can’t hold the enema anymore he will help me up and sit on the toilet as comfortably as possible. I know that this is when my tummy will somehow hold on to the enema even though I was desperate to expel it only seconds prior. My partner will take the nozzle or the plug out if he has not done so already and tell me that I can let everything out. It’s okay, I need to let myself open up and I am not alone. I’m probably in considerable pain now. I may even panic a little and that only makes me more tense.
He grounds me. He tells me to close my eye, or to look at him, and his hand reaches between my legs, and his other hand is us on my tummy. He will calmly comment how much I need to have a few orgasms. Before I can even respond he’s giv me the first, extremely hard one. He rubs my clit until I can’t stop myself from coming and he keeps doing it as those waves of pleasure take over the spasms of tension that I had been fighting in my bowels and I start expelling. He will not stop until a good amount of enema is out and will massage my tummy and finger my ass as needed to make sure that everything is out. I come again and again, and more filth is pushed out as I let my whole body be overpowered by the orgasms that he gives me.
This may be gross to some but it’s incredible to me. It’s thanks to experiences as the ones I have described that I can cope with the medical issues and invasive and nasty procedures that they require. It’s thanks to these enemas and the catharsis they give me that I can feel so alive even when I really struggle. And that’s only possible thanks to the person who has learned to meet needs I didn’t even know I had, never once making me feel uncomfortable or broken or plain gross but invariably loved and accepted.
Nah, when real life is that good porn can’t compete.