I live almost on the Indian Ocean, and can walk on the beach most days.
I love the freedom of a walk in the dusk. In summer I can wear just a shirt and speedos. I usually take my dogs and a black rubbish bag to clean up after them and to pick up any rubbish on the beach. There's often an empty 2 litre milk jug among the flotsam, and I casually scoop it up along with other junk like old bait, worn-out footwear, and fishing line snarls. That jug is my enema syringe! As the dusk deepens, I find a rocky cove where I can fill it with seawater. I rinse it well, using coarse sand to scour the inside; then refill it right to the brim.
Resting the jug on the sand, I squat over it. I draw my speedos to one side, exposing my anus, and nestle the wide mouth of the jug against it. Then all I have to do is to bear down. The jug crumples obligingly (it's only made of thin polythene) and the seawater prises my hole open, and enters me with delicious coolness. If I sit right down on it, I can get about a litre and a half up me. I then rinse the jug again (in case of any 'blow back!') and blow into the mouth to restore the crumpled shape to hold more water. I repeat this process twice, until I am groaningly full with 4 1/2 litres aboard.
By now it is dark enough to take my speedos right off and enjoy the freedom of almost total nudity. My stomach sways heavily and I set out to walk as far as I can before I have to let go. Seawater is purgative, so there are cramps soon enough, and I have to clench my cheeks to hold the water. Sometimes it gets so bad I have to stop and hold my arse shut with a thumb. But I can usually walk about three hundred metres or so before I'm defeated. On soft beach sand that takes ten minutes or so. It's a deserted beach, so it doesn't much matter where I let go. I don't even have to break my stride, sometimes. I just let everything flow down my legs. It feels deliciously free and forbidden!
Expulsion takes about twenty minutes, This is one very high enema, remember! The fourth wave happens a long time after the first three, and summons up the 'mud' from the caecum. This is a most enjoyable final rush to the expulsion, because there's quite a lot to come out (with some gas) leaving me totally empty! To clean up is simple - I just stroll into the surf (never a calm sea here!)
Almost a litre more comes out than goes in, for the seawater is hypertonic and the bowel gives up water to it. So by the time I get home I'm thirsty (and there's often a late squirt waiting for a hurried trip to the toilet). That night I sleep like a log!
Johnny