Enema Fantasy

I go on 2 weeks holiday somewhere remote and I forget to take any laxatives. I am staying in a big house with lots of people so privacy for a bowel movement is limited. Inevitably I become constipated – a few small, hard and very difficult BMs in the first few days and then nothing. I spend a lot of time on the toilet trying to go, and my anus gets sore from straining. I have regular bowel cramps and feelings as if I need to go but I can’t. When I return home my belly is distended and tender; I am depressed and anxious and obsessed with the need to have my bowels open. The first thing I do is to take 2 Dulcolax tablets.

The following morning my cramps are worse but I still cannot open my bowels. That night I double the dose of Dulcolax. It is now a full 2 weeks since I had my bowels open.

The next day I continue to suffer cramps and pass some loose faeces but not the evacuation I know I must need after all this time. I have a constant feeling that I need to go and lots of embarrassing wind. By now I am frightened. Later that day, at work, I go to the toilet and discover that I have messed in my pants. An older colleague finds me in tears and coaxes me to confess what is wrong. She tells me to wait in one of the cubicles for her to return. She is gone for over half an hour and finally comes back with baby wipes, panty liners and a new pairs of plain pants. She tells me to clean myself up and put on the new pants with a liner in case I have another accident. She tells me that I am to go home with her that night and she will sort me out. She is very firm and I am desperate.

Later we go home to her house. She shows me the bathroom and gives me a long loose t-shirt. She tells me to undress, empty my bladder and use the bidet. I feel I have no choice but to obey and several minutes later I follow her into a bedroom. There is a trolley positioned by the bed. On the top level there are: a kettle that has obviously been recently boiled as steam is drifting from the spout; a large measuring jug; a smaller jug and a small basin containing a plunge syringe, and a variety of enema tips and butt plugs; a jar of Vaseline; packets of surgical gloves, tissues and wet wipes; a bottle of castile liquid soap and a jar of Epsom salts; and several brown chemist’s bottles labelled castor oil, flax seed oil, glycerine. On the bottom layer there are a 5 ltr bottle of water; a 2 ltr open top enema bag; and a large bedpan with a Higginson’s syringe curled in the bottom looking just like a snake that has swallowed its prey. The bed is covered with towels and a stick with stirrups hangs on a pulley from the ceiling. I am instructed to lie on my back on the bed with my knees bent and held apart.

I watch as she dons a pair of gloves and scoops Vaseline on her right index finger. She parts my buttocks and applies the Vaseline to my anus. As she massages it in she encourages me to relax and gradually slides her finger inside me. Simultaneously she palpitates my distended belly. She says that I am severely constipated with impacted faeces blocking my bowel. She says that she will sort me out with a series of enemas. I am nervous but I feel I have no choice. I watch as she pours hot water into the smaller jug and drops the bottles of caster oil and flax seed oil in. She continues to massage my belly in clockwise circles and explains that she will give me a preliminary enema of warm oil to soften and loosen the dry, hard lumps of faeces. After a few minutes she draws oil into the syringe from the two bottles and proceeds to inject it into my rectum, followed by a retention plug to help me hold it. She massages my belly some more and I tell her that I need to go but she says I have to hold on.

Then I watch as she mixes a litre of water with 2 tablespoons of soap and 4 of glycerine in the measuring jug and tests the temperature with her elbow. She adjusts it slightly with more warm water and then pours it into the enema bag which she hangs on a hook on the back of the door with a frighteningly large curved black enema nozzle attached. She opens the clamp and allows a little of the enema to flow back into the jug. She tells me that the first enema will be uncomfortable as I am very full. She then proceeds to hook my feet into the stirrups and raise my legs high and wide so that my bottom is lifted up and I feel completely exposed and helpless. The big enema tip is then greased and inserted into my rectum. I hear a click as she opens the clamp and then I feel the warm water flowing into me. Almost at once I feel pressure as the water struggles to find a way into my loaded, sluggish bowels. I am cramping already and I ask her to stop. She slows the flow a little but says we must continue. By this time I am pleading, almost crying, but the water continues to flow relentlessly. I can feel some of it leaking back out of me around the enema tip and I am ashamed so I squeeze my anus as tight as I can. I can see the level of the soapy water gradually going down in the bag and at last it is drained. She removes the enema nozzle from my anus and I am encouraged to hold the soapy water for a little while, but I am soon begging to be allowed to expel.

Eventually I shout that I cannot hold it and I am going to shit and she slides the bedpan under my bottom. I am horrified and I beg her to let me use the toilet in privacy. She says it’s easier if I let go in situ and that she needs to see what I produce. I lose control and squirt water and hard lumps of shit into the bedpan.

When I have finished she wipes me clean and proceeds to mix another enema. She takes the bedpan and kettle away for a few minutes, and returns with the empty pan and the kettle steaming once more. She puts 4 tablespoons of soap and 8 of glycerine into the measuring jug and mixes it well with hot water. This time she tops it up to the 2 litre mark which horrifies me as I watch her fill the bag. I know that it would be useless to protest but I whimper a little as she slides the nozzle past my sore anus and opens the clamp. I feel the warm water flowing into me again and it is a little while before I start to cramp. She slows the flow in response to my timid request but she will not stop. Once again I watch the level of water in the bag decline painfully slowly as my belly fills and bulges out. I am moaning and panting as she tells me to breathe through my mouth. Once again I can feel the water oozing out around the nozzle and I struggle to hold my sphincter tight around it. It seems impossible for me to take the full 2 ltrs but eventually the bag is drained. I am desperate to expel and scared I will have an accident. My belly is visibly distended. To my relief she says I don’t have to hold it. She slides the pan into place and I start to squirt as soon as she removes the nozzle. I am amazed at the enormous volume of shit I expel.

There follows another filling of warm water with a little Epsom salts, after which she lets my feet down and sends me to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. Before I leave, she tells me to eat plenty of fibre, make sure I drink lots of water, and not to expect a bowel movement for a day or two. She casually mentions that it is a good idea to have the occasional enema to keep things clean and moving, and that perhaps I might come round again sometime.

I love your description of the Higginson syringe looking like a snake which has swallowed its prey....how apt!

Bad Ann, from your use of the words "going on holiday" and "sort me out", I assume you live in the U.K. as we Americans never use those phrases.

Your profile doesn't indicate where you live, but your choice of words does.

I suggest you get some Miralax liquid and a 16 oz. douche bulb to use discretely. You might also crush or dissolve 4 Dulcolax tabs and inject them and hold for about 8 minutes. This will clean you out in short order.

Anyway, you posted a nice fantasy and thank you for your post.

MMMM..Lovely fantasy. 😃

A very interesting story. But what a waste of good (and expensive ) glycerine. It should always be used neat, preferably on a loaded rectum which has not previously been treated with a large water-based solution. Glycerin is so powerful that when I first started to experiment , I found that a tiny amount - only two mls (0r cc's) was sufficient to produce a vigorous reaction, very quickly, and 5 mls was too much. Now with training I can take 20 mls or more, neat, but cannot hold it for more than 20 minutes. I liked the way that the lady who helped Ann was a firm no-nonsense type, and wouldn't stop, despite the pleas.

The Epsom Salts mixture reminds me of that used by Miss Olivier. She used to practice in London until the early 1960s. Does anyone remember her?

Enema Fantasy Part 2

A few weeks later I meet my colleague in the toilets, when no-one else is there. She asks me how I am and I reply that I am good. “What about your bowels?” she says, “Have you been regular?” She questions me in detail about frequency and size and consistency, whether I have to strain. I feel myself blushing and I look down, but I answer her questions.

Then she says “It’s a good idea to have a good clearout every so often you know – a good enema. How about tomorrow evening?” I am surprised at the speed of her attack. I don’t feel able to refuse; I feel I must agree. I am completely submissive. But more than that, suddenly and shockingly I realise that I want it. I want it all.

I want the shame of exposure: naked, my buttocks pulled apart to reveal the dark crease between them, my bottom hole, my perineum, and my genitals – my vulva glistening with moisture, my labia puffy, and my clitoris visibly erect between them. I want the humiliating penetration: first the exploratory finger, then the enema tip piercing my anus and filling my rectum. I want to be invaded: the soapy water flowing into my bottom and invading my bowels, filling me so I cramp and face the humiliating struggle to hold it. I even want the shameful evacuation into the bedpan, with no privacy, losing control of my sphincter so that it squirts out the contents of my bowels. Afterwards I want to be washed; I want to feel her fingers soaping my bottom and my anus, and my vulva…….with a start, I realise that I want this woman to touch my clitoris. More than that, I want her to masturbate me whilst she administers my enema. Briefly, I meet her eyes, and I see that she knows, and she knows that I know this too.

The arrangements are made, and I return to my desk. All afternoon and all of the next day I find it hard to concentrate. I am acutely aware of both my anus and my clitoris. My clit is swollen in anticipation and it chafes inside my pants.

Eventually, on the evening of the following day, we leave the office and drive to her house. This time I have brought my own t-shirt to put on after I undress. I join her in the bedroom to find the same set-up as before. I lie on the bed and she hooks my feet into the stirrups which she uses to raise and part my legs.

She explains that she is going to proceed a little differently to last time, and I watch as she mixes a jug with my first enema: about 2½ pints of very warm water with a good deal of both soap and liquid glycerine added. She tells me that she will inject this strong solution using a higginson’s syringe, and that it will cause very powerful bowel action. I watch as she connects a bulbous headed tip with several holes in its sides to one end of the syringe, drops the other end into the jug and pumps until the liquid flows. Then she greases the enema tip with Vaseline and inserts it slowly and only just inside my rectum. She begins to pump and I feel the warmth of the water as well as the size of the bulbous tip. The enema squirts against the sensitive inner rim of my sphincter, stinging a little due to the soap, but I experience this as exquisite anal and rectal pleasure. She continues to pump rhythmically and I hear myself moaning softly as she fills me up. Once she has injected 2 pints she stops and withdraws the enema tip from my rectum. She produces a fat butt plug which she says will help me to hold the enema; she greases it and pushes it into my bottom, stretching my anus at first until it settles into the narrower neck of the plug. She tells me that I must hold the enema for at least 10 minutes and that I will suffer cramping.

Then she bends to look between my legs and comments, “You know you’re quite a big girl down there? Have you got an erection or is your clitty always like that?” I blush a deep shade of beetroot and mutter that I think I may have a bit of an erection. She bends closer and places the fingers of one hand either side of my clitoris, pulling back my labia and hood to reveal it more fully. “A bit on an erection?” she sneers, “Your clitty’s so big with excitement it’s like a little boy’s prick! And you’re practically wetting yourself!” With that she proceeds to masturbate me, but she is careful not to let me climax. She holds me on the brink until the 10 minutes are gone, at which point the cramps in my bowels are asserting themselves. She places the bedpan under my buttocks, removes the plug and tells me I may evacuate. Just as she promised, the strong solution has stimulated my bowels and I expel an enormous amount of faeces.

Whilst she washes me, she explains that she will give me a second larger Epsom salts enema, which she duly prepares and administers from a bag. She continues to masturbate me as the water flows in and now I am panting openly. Once the bag is drained, she continues to stimulate my clitoris until I orgasm and simultaneously void my bowels.

Bad ann, what a delightful story. Thank you for writing and posting it.

@ bad ann... following ya story ..intense,done well !...ty.

Oh to find a friend like that!

Very well written!

Moving to a new house and visiting the neighbors to discover three sisters with very nice bottoms .... on a 3rd day visit using the bathroom and seeing three bag enemas and a bulb on the sink. Upon leaving passing one of the sisters in the door way and her seeing the the bulb has been moved and a smile comes over her face and well

Great experience...only wish that it was me!

Yes........Very well-written but there is no way in hell that someone isn't going to take a dump in two weeks. Can you say..........911?