The question is one of the most interesting and searching I have seen on the Board for a long time – I have in fact not posted for a while, but this question really set me thinking. It goes directly to the psycho-sexual heart of the matter for each individual.
For me, it starts with the anticipation and with the use of the word itself. “Enema” has a sense of excitement and taboo. Taboo, in the sense that, certainly where I grew up, it was not considered polite to discuss such things as bowel habits, constipation, or even worse, an enema, in polite company. For a while, I even wondered if I was the only person in the world to have had such treatment. Once I knew I wasn’t, seeing the printed word, or even hearing the word being spoken started that fluttering in the stomach that is a mixture of excitement and anticipation, that only can heighten and lead on to other things. I am even sure my colour, blood pressure pulse and respiration show mounting excitement.
There is also the taboo that the enema invades the most private of areas, and leaves it exposed and vulnerable. This only adds to the excitement for me. I am not in any way aroused by matters scatological, and the expulsion that follows the enema is a necessary by product that cannot be avoided – it is not really part of the excitement. We use the enema for relief of constipation. Although we both know it has sexual connotations, my spouse and I avoid admitting this, and this in a manner of speaking adds to the excitement and the anticipation. Knowing it is a sexual encounter, but trying to portray it otherwise. Anyway, the relief of the enema when constipated is enough to put up with the less exciting expulsion.
The anticipation of the actual process, seeing the syringe (we use a Higginson) being brought out of the bathroom cupboard, the mixing of the sudsy solution in a plastic jug, and putting all of this, plus the Vaseline and a towel on a tray to carry through to the bedroom makes the butterflies in the stomach change gear, and by this stage, although I do my best to hide it, I am often wet.
Perhaps the most exciting moment, and mildly orgasmic, is when I pull up my leg (we use the Simms position), lift my upper check, exposing my anus, and await the gentle insertion of the lubricated nozzle. I am on the edge of tremoring climax, but fight to control it. The better class of Higginsons are supplied with an extra nozzle – a rubber one around six inches long and about the diameter of an index finger. I am not sure what this was for, it does not seem to be for douches. In any event, this is the nozzle that we use.
By and large, for me it is about dominance and submission, which takes me back to my childhood days, and my first few experiences of the enema, which I have written about and posted in the in the Library section. It is all quite clinically done. My spouse, gently squeezing the bulb, asks if I can feel the solution going in, and if I am comfortable. We both feel the sexual electricity, but don’t acknowledge it. This pretence is part of the excitement. Trying to make a highly charged sexual experience out to be a minor medical procedure.
I rarely use the enema as a solo activity, and when I do, it is normally because I need the relief from awkward and stubborn constipation, and not as a masturbatory aid. This last aspect I can manage on my own by using my imagination, and replaying snippets from previous experiences, or any of the scenes where there has been a reference or similar to the enema or someone having one. Then I get the butterflies again, and feel the moistness. Enough said. Your biggest sexual organ, as they say, is between your ears.
So, all in all, the whole experience is one of remembrance, excitement, taboo, vulnerability, dominance, submission, vulnerability, relief and sexual tension. Do I climax? Many times I am just short of the magic moment, but that too is controlled. I can get there on my own with my imagination – it gives the idea of a ‘mind enema’ a new dimension.
Delia