Barb and I had been dating for some time when I came down ill with something, I forget what it was exactly, probably a bad cold. We couldn’t go on any dates but she came over to see how I was doing, which was nice of her.
Barb was almost fat. She had large, soft breasts and a large tummy, but her ass and hips weren’t huge. Rubenesque was the term back then to describe how she looked. I didn’t care one way or the other. All I knew was that I sure loved to suck her big tits and bounce on her belly. She was a natural when it came to giving head. Her technique drove me crazy, causing me to always have violent orgasms when she blew me. She locked her lips around the shaft of my cock as it spurted, sucking it completely dry. When I returned the favor, her juices soaked the sheets and her thighs clamped tightly around my head when she climaxed.
In spite of all the sexual antics we regularly engaged in, I never brought up the subject of enemas or anal sex with her. It took that illness to do that.
After she had visited with me a while, inquiring about how I felt, she asked if I had a hot water bottle. She asked because in her probing of my condition she learned that my abdomen hurt. I thought about my answer before saying anything.
My enema kit was a combination bag, still in the original box, kept in the cabinet under the lav. The layout of my place featured a small full bath connected to my bedroom. The sink and vanity, though, was actually inside the bedroom, with a door into a very small area for the tub and commode. I would be able to see her reaction when she found my combination bag.
“Under the sink,” I told her.
Barb went over to the vanity and knelt down. There wasn’t much else under there so she didn’t have any trouble finding it. She ran the hot water and opened the box. I watched her with nervous anticipation. I was scared she would say something negative about enemas and terrified she would ask me about them.
I was disappointed when she said nothing. Barb filled the bag half way with hot water, screwed on the stopper and, with a towel, brought it over to me.
She wiped off the bag and had me lay flat on my back with my undershirt pulled up. She placed the hot rubber bag on my stomach and covered it with the towel.
“How does it feel?” she asked me.
“Hot,” I replied. She gave me a look. “I mean,” I continued, “It feels hot. It’s not doing anything else.”
I had a water bed then. It was a king sized mattress on a raised platform. It didn’t have a head board or padded edges. I was surprised to learn that a water bed isn’t that good for sex. It’s great for sleeping however, and since it was heated, it was also nice to lie upon in the winter.
“Well, give it some time.” Barb left my side and went into the bathroom to pee. She didn’t bother to close the door. From my bed I had an unobstructed view of her doing her business. I watched and listened to her pee while I gently rocked on the slight wave action beneath me.
Barb washed her hands and came back to my side. She checked my belly with one cool hand. “When was the last time you had a BM?”
Now usually if I had been home sick an enema would have been the first thing I would have taken. But I was feeling truly rotten and hadn’t had the energy to give myself one this time.
“I don’t know,” I fibbed. “Maybe a day or two ago.” I had actually gone that morning, but I wasn’t about to tell Barb that.
Barb lifted the hot water bottle off of my belly. I missed its touch immediately, the warm rubber had felt good next to my bare skin. She probed my stomach with her fingers. My whole body shook at her touch. I just knew she was going to offer to give me an enema, my first ever from someone else. From someone I was having sex with, from someone I loved. My cock, thankfully concealed by the bedclothes, was blue steel hard.
Barb flashed me one of her impish smiles. She put her hands on her hips and tried to be stern. The effect was somewhat diminished by the hot water bottle in her right hand. “I’m giving you an enema.”
“What?” I tried to talk but it came out a choked whisper.
I managed to nod. I shivered. I actually shivered with excitement and fear as I waited for Barb to administer my enema. She returned to the sink to empty the bag’s contents and began the preparations.
Barb kept a spare toothbrush at my place. It remained in one of the vanity’s drawers when she wasn’t over for the night. She knew where it was kept and consequently knew what else was in those drawers.
I watched her take out the Vaseline jar. Would she see and use the bar of Castille soap also in the drawer?
The way I prepared my enemas was to add a few shavings of Castille soap to a partially filled bag. I’d stopper the bag, shake it vigorously to dissolve the soap and then fill it to capacity.
Yes! Barb took the soap out too. She assembled the hose and clamp and stuck the rectal pipe on one end. I so much wanted to tell her to use the douche tip instead, but stayed silent. I hasn’t considered it, but from a woman’s point of view, douche pipes were for douching.
Barb of course didn’t know my method of making soap suds. She held the soap under the running water to make suds as the sink filled. She used the plastic tumbler to scoop soapy water from the sink into the bag.
Fill it! Fill it! I wanted to shout, but of course I didn’t say anything for fear of rejection or criticism. The same fear that prevented me from initiating anal sex, or even ass play, with her.
Barb filled the bag about half way. She screwed the cap onto the bag and attached the hose. She cleared the tubing of air before anointing the tip with Vaseline.
An idea formed inside my throbbing skull. Barb knew how to give an enema. Her actions in front of me proved she’d done it frequently. Why didn’t I make the connection before? Barb currently worked in a clerical position at a clinic, but she had told me that she used to work with patients. She hated the environment and hadn’t pursued a nursing career. Whether she was turned on by them or not, she was no stranger to giving enemas.
Barb left the soapy bag on the vanity and came over to get me in position. I was hesitant to follow her orders to pull down my underpants and get on my left side on the towel. She’d see my hardon. Without saying anything I did as she asked. She smiled at my condition but didn’t say anything.
Barb brought the enema bag over to the bed. Now it was time to get an enema. I was about to get, not take, an enema. I could barely contain myself, I kept shaking. Barb mistook my near shock excitement as an indication of how ill I was.
“You’ll feel much better after the enema.”
The word was spoken. It was so thrilling to hear it out loud and meant for me. “Okay,” I answered. I pulled apart my butt cheeks for her without prompting.
Barb sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to agitate the mattress, and bent to insert the nozzle. When I felt the cool plastic tip enter my anus I about lost it. A rapid intake of breath coupled with a strong shudder occurred without my conscious awareness. Barb patted my exposed ass and opened the clamp. She raised the bag and best enema of my life began.
I felt the water enter my rectum, hot and moderately insistent. My cock, painfully hard, dribbled pre cum. A very bad omen. Unless I was extremely careful, I was liable to shoot off without much warning. “Oh Barb,” I more or less moaned.
She chuckled and lowered the bag to slow the flow. Her right hand still held the nozzle. She repositioned her hand so it still kept the tip in place but was further up the hose. I think she realized that if her hand continued to touch me I’d loose control and ejaculate. Barb loved to control my ejaculations, her oral lovemaking demonstrated that often enough.
Barb continued to adjust the elevation of the bag as the enema flowed. I tried my best to resist from climaxing while attempting to monitor the enema’s progress so I could also enjoy it.
The water was filling my rectum and colon. I could feel the beginnings of peristalsis. Alone, I simply stopped the enema if the urge to go grew insistent or if I orgasmed. Now I had to endure it. I wasn’t in control. I was getting an enema and there wasn’t much I could do about it. It was painfully neat.
Barb only filled the bag half way, and I had moved my bowels that morning, so there wasn’t that much waste in the way of the intruding liquid. It wasn’t that difficult to take all of the enema.
It felt great getting an enema. I so much wanted to masturbate but I didn’t dare touch myself. I urgently wanted to come, but I wanted more for Barb to continue giving me the enema. Thus I was torn between conflicting emotions, sensations and feelings. After ten years of solo activity, getting an enema from someone else was scary. I was so turned on by it that I was shaking uncontrollably. I was fearful of criticism over the revelation of my fetish. But most of all, I was cramping from the soapy solution pouring into my guts. I was in heaven.
Barb closed the clamp and pulled the nozzle out of my butt. “All done,” she announced in her cat-that-ate-the-canary voice.
Would she make me hold it, I wondered. I didn’t move. If I rolled onto my stomach, which was the usual posture I assumed for enemas, I was afraid the bed’s movement coupled with the pressure caused by my stomach would trigger my orgasm. (That was how I masturbated during an enema.) If I shifted position onto my back, Barb would see just how aroused I was. My erection was so intense that the head of my cock was purple. A sticky purple at that, as the pre-cum oozing had continued.
I stayed still and waited.
Barb promptly got up and went to the sink. She didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. I fought the desire to shit. She turned on the water, “Go on,” she laughed.
I rolled off the bed and walked quickly past her into the bathroom. I left the door open, sat and let go. Barb continued to clean up at the sink.
When she was finished she removed her blouse and bra, both of which had gotten wet. Barb often went around the house topless, so in itself this wasn’t out of the ordinary.
I finished emptying my bowels and cleaned up. By now my erection had subsided to ‘merely aroused’. That is it was still full but not pointing directly at my belly button.
When I came out Barb asked how I felt. Better, I told her quite honestly.
She laughed. I noticed that she had left all the enema equipment on the counter. I headed back to bed, not bothering at the moment to put on my underwear.
She came over and checked my forehead. She concluded I was still a little feverish. She brought me two aspirins and then got in bed beside me.
She snuggled close, her breasts felt so warm against my bare chest. Poor baby isn’t feeling well, she baby-talked. Her left hand found my cock and she gripped it firmly.
Barb and I masturbated together exactly once in our relationship. She fingered herself to a climax and I pumped my cock until I shot my load. It was a curiosity thing, nothing more. We never manipulated each other, since we both much preferred to use our mouths instead. If Barb didn’t feel like being penetrated she’d suck me off. If birth control happened to be a hassle, we’d eat each other to climax (I did her first.).
So when I felt her hand on my cock I thought she was just being playful. Without saying anything she began squeezing it. That’s all, just squeezing. She kept at it, her head resting on my shoulder, her breasts pressing into my side, until I climaxed.
Barb was very familiar with my orgasms. I’d cum inside her cunt many times without a rubber (until she had her IUD removed) and she’d swallowed my jism every time she blew me. She’d seen me climax hard from intense foreplay and arousal but this orgasm she hadn’t witnessed before.
My cock spurted volley after volley of semen. I lost count after eleven. It was the largest ejaculation I’d ever had. Barb was amazed with my cum. She laughed and her eyes sparkled. She’d discovered something.
After a bit she got out of bed and brought me a warm wash cloth. I mopped up without comment.
She stayed with me a while longer hugging me and snuggling. But I was truly ill and wanted to sleep. She left for the night saying she would return the next day after work.
The following day I didn’t have a fever and felt a lot better. Fortunately I had a job that had a decent sick leave policy so I didn’t feel obligated to return to work. I rested all day and fantasized about the enema.
Barb arrived about five thirty with supplies to make soup. She took me back to bed where she checked me. I had left the enema equipment out where she had left it the night before. She said I didn’t have a fever, which was true.
“How’s your tummy?” she asked.
“The same as yesterday.”
Barb put her hands on her hips. “Well young man, you need another enema.” Her eyes practically glowed.
“Yes nurse Barb,” I answered.
She laughed at that. “If all my patients had been like you, I would have stayed in nursing.” Barb took off her blouse and bra before going over to the sink. I was in store for an enema from a topless nurse.
Barb prepared the enema and I got naked. She put more water in the bag this time, but still attached the rectal nozzle. I decided not to say anything in case the opportunity ever came up to see she douche. I sorta wondered how it was done exactly, since from what I could gather, douche water wasn’t retained. I hadn’t got to the point where I might give her an enema.
We did it the same as before. Barb inserted the nozzle and regulated the flow by raising and lowering the flow. She was a good judge of my progress. The extra water was desperately painful. I was cramping and wanted to go, but I didn’t want the enema to end.
Barb pulled the rectal tip out of my ass. “Enema’s finished.” She laughed. “How about a blow job?”
“Now? Huh,” I muttered.
Her eyes sparkled with glee. “I’ll suck you off right now if you want me to, but you have to hold the enema while I do it.”
I nodded. Yes, suck my cock while I hold the enema.
Barb helped me onto my back. The flat enema bag rested next to me, the Vaseline coated tip against my thigh.
Her lips encased my cock and I moaned out in pure ecstasy.
She took some pity on me and massaged my belly as she blew me. It was one of her patented, draw out the climax, total arousal blow jobs, but the enema stimulus was too much for even her talents. I shot off quickly in spite of her pacing.
Once my cum triggered, Barb sucked all out. She wanted to take all that amazing quantity of cum down her throat. And she did.
Who ever said, ‘Kissing a smoker is like kissing an ashtray’ probably also thought that cunnilingus was akin to drinking from the toilet bowl. Barb smoked and I loved deep kissing her. The tobacco taste was sexually stimulating. Actual smoking didn’t do anything for me other than provide a visual treat, when after sex, she would light up and lazily lie there, nude, smoking.
My first enema episode with her had occurred when I was sick, during the winter. It was now late spring, our relationship had its ups and downs and we were seeing if we should continue together. I should add that I was twenty-five years old and that is explanation enough for stupid behavior on my part. For some reason I no longer remember, Barb decided she wanted to shed ten pounds. She was heavy, but I didn’t consider her fat. Anyway she announced that she was going to loss weight. I scoffed that she couldn’t do it (25, remember) and we argued ourselves into a corner. If she did it within the specified time, I would be her sex slave for a week. If she missed the goal, she’d be mine. Fine. Okay.
What would being a sex slave entail, exactly? Uh, the slave would have to appear at the winner’s door after work every day, get naked and do whatever the winner wanted sexually, nothing excepted. (I had a limited imagination in those days.) I imagined that if I won I’d be treated to a week of seeing my girlfriend nude while getting as many blow jobs as I could handle. If I lost I assumed it would be something similar, me naked, eating her out all the time with occasional bouts of fucking. Well, it didn’t work out quite like that. She won, fair and square. (How was I to know that the initial ten pounds on an overweight woman are relatively easy to shed?)
My first slave day indeed went as I had imagined. I arrived at her place, took off all my clothes and waited for instructions. I had to eat her out and I got to fuck her later. There wasn’t any master/slave stuff. I called her Barb and she called me sucker. The bet began on a Wednesday. Thursday Barb was a bit more innovative. She started acting dominant and took the role of sexual aggressor. She bit my nipples for example and tugged my scrotum, nuts and all, when she decided to jerk me off, until I begged her to ease up. Still, I wasn’t prepared for what awaited me when I showed up Friday night, ready to spend the weekend under her sexual control. My silly grin faded when I glanced past Barb as she opened the door to let me in. There on her sleeper-sofa sat another woman. She was slim, with long straight hair the color of straw. She had a pretty oval face and dark eyes. Her small, pert breasts were unfettered by the need for a bra.
Barb introduced us. Carol was a longtime friend of Barb’s in town for a visit. I didn’t have the presence to ask if Barb knew Carol was arriving during our bet. I barely had said hello before Barb sharply reminded me of my obligation. I blushed and, avoiding looking directly at Carol, asked if she was certain. Barb nodded. I didn’t know if Carol knew about the terms of the bet.
All Barb had said was, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” while tugging at a belt loop on my pants.
“Okay,” I said and went into Barb’s bedroom to undress. A few minutes later, shaking with anxiety, I strode into Barb’s tiny living room buck naked.
“What do you think?” Barb asked Carol. Carol wasn’t exactly blase about my nakedness, I could see her flush, but she was clearly less intimidated by the scene than I was.
“I think you are lucky,” she replied. Barb laughed.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I said.
“I’m sure,” observed Carol and they both burst out laughing at my discomfort. I quickly went into the bathroom, closing the door after I was inside. I didn’t know if I was protecting Carol or myself by that move. Barb and I peed in each other’s presence all the time, sometimes even doing it when we showered together. I felt I had to close the door this time. I came back to see both women sitting next to each other giggling like school kids.
Carol asked me about the bet. I explained it to her. “Anything?”
Carol confirmed. “Yes.”
Barb reached up and began fondling my cock and balls. I grew hard in spite of everything. Carol giggled and again said Barb was very lucky. Barb leaned over and deep throated me once, smacking her lips loudly after my cock popped out. I didn’t know what to do, I said nothing. Barb turned to Carol, “What do you think?”
At this point my imagination went wild. I pictured some sort of threesome. Carol was very sexy, I ached to see her tiny tits and taste her cunt. Barb was built for comfort, but Carol was built for speed. I wanted a fast ride. Carol lowered her eyes and after the briefest hesitations said, “I agree, let’s do it.”
Barb got up and took hold of my still hard cock. I expected to be led to the bedroom, which was where Carol went. Instead Barb took me into the bathroom. She told me to sit on the commode, which I had dutifully lowered the seat on after peeing. I sat, still expectant of a wild threesome. A group shower first, perhaps? Carol entered and my mind did a spin of conflicting emotions. She was still dressed as before but she was holding an E-Z-EM vinyl enema bag, the kind used for administering barium enemas. Attached to its clear plastic hose was the longest enema tube I’d ever seen. Red, almost as big around as my finger and about three feet long. She also held a box of exam gloves and a huge tube of something called Lubrafax. Barb must have pinched these things from work. In those days it was relatively easy to sneak out supplies from hospitals and labs, since all they really cared about was controlling the drugs. I was tempted several times, during my work visits, to do that very thing.
Barb took the gloves from Carol and proceeded to put on a pair. I was ordered to get on my hands and knees in the bathtub. Carol busied herself at the sink preparing my enema, the first one, as it turned out. I don’t know what it was that made me meekly follow along, but I did. I did as Barb instructed, lowering my head to my hands and spreading my legs apart as far as possible. She applied a lot of lube to my up turned ass, but didn’t try to insert her finger very far into my rectum.
Carol soon had the enema ready. That bag held 3000ml and it looked very full when she brought it over to Barb. It was very cloudy too. Carol had added a packet of enema soap to the bag before she filled it. Even though she was fully clothed and I was in an awkward position, she looked incredibly sexy holding that bulging enema bag.
Barb spoke, “You’ve been acting shitty towards me lately and I’m tired of it. I’m going to clean all the shit out of you and then maybe you’ll behave yourself.” Barb took the end of the colon tube from Carol and spread white lube over about half its length from the purloined tube of barium enema lubricant. Once more I felt her finger invade my anus before she inserted the thick tip of the colon tube.
Carol slid the pinch valve over and raised the bloated bag. The slug of hot water hit me and, flinching, I clamped my ass cheeks together. That didn’t matter one bit. Barb was still able to slide more of the colon tube up my ass.
I started complaining almost immediately. Barb, possibly emboldened by the presence of Carol, taunted me. “Don’t you like getting enemas?”
I said nothing, just moaned in pain. The water was cramping and the urge to shit was overwhelming. Barb continued pushing in the tube. I yelped when a twist in my colon caused it to bump into my guts. To Carol she said, “You should have seen how he came when I gave him an enema.” Why was she telling Carol this in front of me?
Barb repeated the question to me. “You like getting enemas, don’t you?”
“Usually,” I replied, the pain evident in my voice.
Barb laughed, though I couldn’t see what was so funny. “Mr. Shitty is getting an attitude adjustment.”
“Yes Mistress,” I quietly replied. “Mistress? I quietly implored, It hurts awful.”
“Pant,” she told me. “Pant like a puppy.” I tried panting, nothing helped. The pain mounted, water leaked down my thighs. I was miserable, or at least I was when I was resting my head on my hands. When I lifted my head and looked at Carol holding the enema bag I felt a thrill. When she saw me looking at her she lifted the bag higher and I cried out from the pain. Barb held the colon tube in place, more than half its length was up my ass but still water leaked out.
Carol spoke for the first time. “You should have gotten a different one.” I had no idea what that was.
Barb agreed. “Couldn’t find one I could get,” she said. “We could have had a lot of fun with one, too.”
My stomach hurt ten times worse than it ever had. I pleaded with Barb to let me up. I begged her. I begged Carol. They could plainly see I was in agony. Carol lowered the much deflated bag.
Barb said, “Remember, you said ‘Anything.’” I thought for a short moment, or maybe I didn’t even consider it.
“Yes,” I answered. “I STILL mean it, Anything.” Barb pulled the tube out of my ass without bothering to shut off the flow. When the tip slipped free it sprayed soapy water over my legs. I made it to the toilet without losing it. Barb lit a cigarette before pulling off her wet top. Encased in one of her practical support bras, her tits were massive, intimidating objects. While I shamelessly expelled in the tiny bathroom Carol and Barb went about preparing another enema. No soap this time, thankfully. Barb put on another pair of gloves and made me get back in position much too soon.
This time while lubing my ass she worked her index finger deep into my rectum. Ever time she rotated it over my prostate gland my cock twitched. The tube was again introduced into my ass. It was time for Mr. Shitty to get another cleaning. I tried to concentrate on Carol, beautiful Carol, my enema angel. Even her pretty face, with its amused look, didn’t stop the cramps from hitting almost immediately. I tried panting, I tried flexing my belly, nothing helped. Finally I begged Barb to allow Carol to lower the enema bag. Barb relented and Carol lowered the much too full bag until its top was right below her breasts. Barb had worked the colon tube deep into my ass and this meant that Carol had to move closer to the tub because of the resulting shorter over all length of hose.
I had two women standing over my naked, wet, shivering body. I was getting an enema besides. I should have had a hardon to end all hard-ons, but I didn’t. As the water filled my guts, my cock shrunk until it was barely visible from the growth of thick pubic hair. I gulped air, struggled and moaned. Finally Barb pulled the tube out of my ass. With the liquid tether broken, Carol moved away. She took the enema stuff to the sink and occupied herself with washing and cleaning. Barb wasn’t done with me even though I was begging her to allow me up. She put her right hand on my ass and began fingering my closed hole. There was plenty of lubricant on her gloves and around my ass so it was easy for her to force a finger past my clenched anus. I don’t know what she was expecting, but I could tell she was surprised when her finger encountered my water filled rectum. She rotated her finger around a couple of times loosening me up. Water began leaking. I warned her I might not be able to hold back a big rush should a cramp hit me. Barb didn’t say anything to that. Maybe that’s why she had me in the tub in the first place. Anyway, she added a second finger and really started to massage my prostate gland. That felt weird. I never had that done before. At first I thought I would pee, that’s what it felt like. But that sensation passed. Without much warning I was ejaculating, and I didn’t even have a hardon. Barb pressed and pushed and I shot load after load out of my hanging, barely engorged cock.
When Barb withdrew her fingers a massive gush of enema water flew out of my ass. I was panting so much form having all that cum drained out of me that it was all I could do to sit up onto my heels in the tub and continue expelling. I gripped the edge of the tub for support and tried to calm myself. My head was spinning. I was weak from coming, from the enemas and from the situation. I gasped for air and shook. Barb laughed at me. She peeled off the rubber gloves and washed her hands. “There’s Ajax under the sink,” she told me. “Clean out the tub.”
Carol and Barb left me alone. Trying not to think too much, I did was she wished, cleaning myself up also. For a moment I searched for my clothes before remembering the conditions of the bet. I went on into the living room naked.
Barb stubbed out the cigarette she was smoking and came over to me. She kissed me deeply and I sucked her mouth like a man drowning. “Anything,” I whispered when we broke for air.
“Good,” Barb replied. “Carol,” she said to her still amused friend. “How about tomorrow we give him a BE?”
“What’s a BE?” I interjected.
Carol laughed, “You’ll find out soon enough.”
During the night I had to get up to pee, being rather full of enema water from the earlier sessions in the bathtub. Also, I had been stimulated, almost to the point of blue balls, before sleeping by Barb’s insistent sexual demands.
When we retired to bed she made me go down on her until I literally choked on her excretions and nearly suffocated between her large grasping thighs as she achieved climax after climax from my tonguing and sucking. Not only did I have to pee, but the underside of my tongue hurt from sticking it out so much. After I ate her she had me enter her and fuck her hard and fast until she had one of her extra strong orgasms. That was called a vaginal orgasm in those days, a term that is currently out of favor for political reasons. All I know is what I observed with Barb. Rubbing her clit produced one style of orgasm, fucking her cunt sometimes made her cum violently and spectacularly.
Anyway, after she came (biting my shoulder so as not to cry out and disturb Carol sleeping in the next room) she was done with me. While sure hard, I hadn’t cum. The activity earlier had drained all the stored semen. I was horny, but unable to get off.
I went into the toilet to relieve myself, and coming out noticed Carol was awake. She asked how I was doing.
I went over to the folded out couch. I had it bad for Carol and it showed, literally in this case, since I was still naked. There was something about her that excited me the moment I laid eyes on her. I wanted to have sex with her.
I didn’t attempt to conceal my erection. Carol choose not to accept my advances. She was certainly having fun at my expense and she at least condoned the sexual nature of it, but she wasn’t going to interfere with her best friend’s lover. It was one thing in her mind to be a party to sex play, at Barb’s lead, but quite another to take it any further.
I took my hardon back to bed.
In the morning Barb was as playful as ever. A good fuck will do that, I guess. She teased me in bed, straddling and tickling me unmercifully. Her big breasts just inches from my face and her ass pressing down on my cock as I begged her to stop.
She got off me and pulled on a pair of full-cut panties as I attempted to regain my breath. Topless, she when into the bathroom to pee and wash up. Having nothing better to do, I followed her.
She made me scrub her back as she showered. I kissed the wet skin on her neck as the water fell, producing a few shivers of delight in her body. My cock swelled in no time, but she ignored it. Instead she took the enema bag off the shower curtain rod.
I was half way through another deep enema, again on my hands and knees in the tub and still wet from the shower, when Carol walked in. She matter-of-factly pulled down her panties and peed in the toilet. It was quick and totally un-erotic. Her nightgown was sensible too, no see- through lacy affair, but a practical opaque one.
She joined Barb standing over my suffering form. “How’s it going?” she asked, amused by my condition.
Barb chuckled. Usually I loved her laugh, her voice had that sexy smoker’s edge to it. Throaty and erotic. In that cold, wet tub, it sounded unfriendly. “He’s getting it.”
I sure was. Barb had mixed up another soapy enema solution and was giving me the first enema of the morning. I was sweating from the pain in my guts. I was leaking and I was moaning. The last thing on my mind was my cock. Quite a feat when you consider there was a semi-naked woman standing over me holding an enema bag and another sexy woman in a nightgown standing next to her.
My stomach hurt from the water pressure and from the cramps the soapy solution was producing. Man, if you want to make someone shit, give them a soapy enema. It was murder, trying to hold that stuff. By the end I was gulping air in fitful mouthfuls, trying by turns not to puke or blow it all out my ass. Barb let me up before all the solution had drained from that clear plastic bag, not that there was all that much left in there when she did. I scrambled up and over to the toilet and just let go, cradling my aching belly in my arms as my guts endlessly emptied. I wasn’t too far gone to notice that Barb’s nipples were very prominent and probably rock hard.
Carol watched me expel, which embarrassed me. Guilt I guess for making a six inch pass at her last night. Barb handing the spent enema bag to Carol, who began the process of cleaning, rinsing and, of course, refilling.
Barb came over to the commode and leaned over me. “Suck my boobs,” she commanded.
Indeed her nipples were little stiff berries. I sucked one into my mouth and sucked the way she liked. Wetly and noisily with moderate suction. I moaned every time a wave of cramps wracked my guts. She found that very amusing. I couldn’t see past Barb’s tits to tell what Carol thought of it.
Barb pulled me away from the toilet when Carol had the second enema ready. My cock rose to salute my enema angel during the brief time between wiping myself and assuming the position. She held the long, full bag by its loop, with two fingers over the bright red cap that sealed in the contents. In her other hand she held the coil of clear tubing and red colon tube. Both arms were close to her chest. The warm bag of water under one breast and the business end held at an angle under the other. I wanted to fall to my knees and kiss her on the lips.
I was such a jerk.
Barb again rubbed, pushed and poked lubricant into my abused hole. The rubber gloves were a big turn on, I discovered. I could see regular prostate massage sessions in our lovemaking. Indeedy-do.
Then Barb and Carol began talking like I wasn’t there. They spoke of giving this enema slowly, so it could be fully retained and how I was ready for the BE procedure, which would be something else, certainly. But oh so necessary, the poor dear. Then he would need a cleaning out. Several, just to be sure. Oh yes, at least two more, maybe three. And a follow up cleansing, too.
Stuff like that.
Meanwhile, I’m on my knees in the tub getting the hosing of a lifetime. The water just kept on flowing and no amount of protests could stop it.
Barb pulled the tube out of my ass when the bag was empty but I couldn’t get up immediately. Oh boy, I thought, another backdoor massage coming up. No such luck. This time when Barb stuck her finger up my ass, she didn’t move it around or press down. She kept it there, acting like a plug. It felt nice, but not nice enough, if you know what I mean.
Carol washed out the enema bag and hung it up over my head. Barb allowed me up to use the toilet. She stripped off the latex gloves and she and Carol left me alone.
I took the opportunity to shit out as much water and crap as humanly possible. Which is quite a lot if that particular human had just been internally drowned a couple of times.
After an eternity, in which both legs went into complete and utter paralysis from being sat upon for so long, I concluded I was done and wiped off. After learning how to stand all over again, I went out to see what was going on.
Barb was still topless. Carol still in her nightgown. Coffee was made and cigarettes smoked. Carol looked at me, her eyes briefly dwelling on my rapidly engorging manhood, and said, “He needs his BE now.”
Barb nodded. I stared at her boobs, waiting, fantasizing, stiffening. Carol left the room. Barb came over to me and once again we exchanged a deep, passionate kiss. I could feel her nipples against my chest, she was so aroused.
“Let’s go,” she said, breaking our embrace. “A barium enema awaits you.” Ah, a BE, a small light went on inside my head.
In the bathroom Carol had another E-Z-EM enema bag. This one was rolled up and ended in a fat, pink tapered and flared nozzle. This nozzle had three huge holes in it. One large one on the tip and two big ones on the sides. The tip itself was shaped like a fat olive. Behind this bulbous tip the body of the nozzle started narrow and grew in diameter towards the ribbed end, which fit into the thick clear plastic E-Z-EM hose. It was about six inches long and thicker than the colon tube they had been using.
When Carol unrolled the new bag I saw that its bottom third was filled with a sandy looking powder. What I took to be the barium. Barb helped Carol fill the bag with hot water.
Carol sloshed the mixture around to dissolve the powder. I could tell the stuff was both thick and heavy. I realized this BE wasn’t going to be much fun. My cock shrank to half mast and threatened to recede completely. I concentrated on Barb’s tits and Carol’s angel face. Though they hadn’t said anything, I automatically avoided touching myself the entire weekend.
Carol chatted with Barb about BEs. Either about how much of a pain it was to make the barium solution or about ghastly barium enema disasters. “You should have gotten a different one,” Carol repeated.
Barn shrugged. “I got the largest tip I could find, that should work. We’re not taking X-rays, you know and he’ll be on his knees.”
Carol nodded and added more hot water to the dangerously bulging vinyl bag. The thick, heavy soup quickly filled the big hose when she held the full bag upright.
I got in the tub without being told and tried to relax. I’d read about barium enemas and the enormous amounts patients were forced to take. They’d been giving me enemas using the same size bag, so I figured it couldn’t be too bad.
Barb prepped me from the much depleted tube of lubricant. She used two fingers inside my butt to prepare the opening for that extra thick nozzle. That felt very nice, as did the nozzle when she inserted it fully and completely. My cock was once again among the living.
Carol slipped the pincher over and the barium flow began. The bag was too heavy for her to hold up like a regular enema bag. She had it cradled in her arm like a baby.
Oh man, did that barium hurt! It was thick and heavy and dragged my guts down as it filled me up. I bitched so much that after a short while, no more than a quart was in me, Barb relented and had me change positions. She had me turn over onto my back.
There was some Marx Brothers maneuvering as we three adjusted to me lying in the tub. Carl ended up perched on the vanity, with her feet on the edge of the tub, holding the enema bag. Barb had to kneel down to reach my ass. I tried to find a comfortable position for my legs, back and head. It was too much trouble to do anything but lie back and take it. I had a great view of the shower head and the other enema bag.
Carol resumed the flow of barium solution while Barb (and her tits) kept the nozzle in place. Carol suggested I massage my belly. I did that, for what little help it provided.
The pain was intense and very different from what I was used to, enema-wise. This pain was physical, the barium solution was heavy. It was a strain to support it all, let alone hold it in.
Barb was enjoying herself at my expense, but I couldn’t blame her for it. She thought it was great that I was suffering so and told me I deserved it. I really wasn’t in any position to argue, even if I wanted. But she didn’t hate me by any means. She started to tease me about the enema and threatened to have Carol raise up the bag. I begged her not to do that. I promised to be good.
“Good enough to take all of the enema?”
“Yes,” I promised. Hoping it was true. n Barb began playing with my cock, which wasn’t very interested. At first. She soon had me hard and turned on. If only those damn cramps would cease, I could really enjoy this.
Carol affected not to notice this change. She didn’t avert her eyes or anything, but she pretended nothing was out of the ordinary. She watched everything, however. Barb stroked my cock and maintained the nozzle’s position and the enema bag eventually, slowly, painfully lost its contents. I was in agony, with a teensy bit of ecstasy there on the fringes, wandering about and wondering if it would be all right to join in.
Barb, no doubt recalling how spectacularly I shot off when aroused by an enema, went for a repeat performance. She let go of the nozzle and took up my cock. There was lube on her glove but not that much of it. There was more friction of the painful kind than there was of the nice, slippery type.
I didn’t bitch. I was too busy deciding whether to shit or go blind. Shit was the odds on favorite.
Man, my stomach ached! Such pain. Such, such, nice sensations from her gloved manipulations. Yes. Jerk me off. Make me spurt jism on the walls. Anything to take my mind off this insane pain in my guts.
Barb pumped hard and fast. No finesse, nothing but manual stimulation to achieve orgasm. Like a guy would do it. And I delivered the goods. In spades.
I shook violently once, went stiff and exhaled explosively as my cock erupted like a Fourth of July fountain. Streamers and gobs of cum flew everywhere. Later Barb said I had eleven distinct ejaculations. I panted and grunted and shook. I so impressed Carol that she leaned in closer to watch.
Finally I slumped down, exhausted. Barb reached lower and pulled the nozzle from my clenched ass. I couldn’t move, yet I badly needed to. Fuck it, I said to myself and loosened my sphincter.
A torrent of barium solution flooded the tub. The flow was punctuated with impressive farts. It was a regular Disney volcano attraction between my twitching legs.
I had indeed sprayed the wall with jism. Barb’s hair too and her left tit. I came good. Barb patted my cock and got to her feet. She made no move to wipe off the semen. I’m going to have a cigarette, she said. A moment later Carol got off the vanity, set the enema bag down and left as well.
I voided again and again, rested some, and then stood on weak legs to shower off. When I showed my face the girls were sitting at the kitchen table. Carol asked how I was doing.
“Weak and tired and a bit woozy. I think I’m going to lay down a while.”
“Poor baby,” Barb cooed. She got up and took me to her bedroom. “You rest and get your strength back.”
I dozed for a few hours and when I awoke I discovered that Carol wasn’t there. Barb explained that she left for the afternoon to visit an Aunt. Barb still wore only her panties. She embraced me and we kissed. Man did we kiss, her mouth was hungry for me. She was hot.
She lead me back to bed, peeled down her panties and snuggled close to me. I was hard in no time and on top of her. Her softness was intoxicating. I fell into her flesh and pumped away. She came quickly, and when her orgasm tapered off, she made me lie still, with my cock still very much inside her cunt. Her hands caressed my ass and back, pinching the pliant flesh.
“Tonight you are going to get another enema,” she whispered.
“I’d like that,” I murmured back.
“We have to get the residual barium out.”
“Yes we do,” I agreed. My cock twitched within the tight confines of its velvet prison.
Barb rubbed her hands over my ass. “You may need more than one enema.”
My cock twitched again and was answered by a constriction. “If you think I do.” My cock twitched twice.
“Oh yes, we must be thorough.” Barb’s cunt clamped around my cock.
I buried my face in her neck and came in great, heaving sobs.
After the humiliating sex slave episode my relationship with Barb settled into an unusual groove. We fought constantly and I continued to treat her badly but our sex life became fantastic.
More and more she assumed a dominate role in the bedroom-probably to get even with the way I treated her. For my part, I guess I acted the asshole so she would do those awful things to me. At the time I had no concept of separating fantasy from reality. There wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t behave civilly towards her and still enjoy the wild sex. Maybe it was inhibitions (on both our parts) that prevented us from communicating meaningfully. Of course we eventually broke up. Badly.
But before that preordained train wreck, we enjoyed some wild times in the bedroom. And bathroom.
Barb kept the plastic E-Z-EM bags she had obtained for my sex slave weekend and continued to use them on me with gleeful abandon. She never did get a different one, but the large retention tips and thick colon tube she did sneak out were more than enough for my poor, tortured asshole.
In those days, just about every apartment had a Swag Lamp in every room. Those were ceiling mounted lights that plugged into a wall outlet. Since they had to plug in, they were naturally located close to a wall. That meant there would be a sturdy hook or two attached to the ceiling, typically near the bed. These hooks made perfect places from which to hang an enema bag. Barb made full use of that handy feature.
Another thing she made good use of, was one of those plastic, phallus-shaped vibrators. I’d bought one of them (from the grocery store, of all places) thinking she’d like to have it vibrating away inside her during foreplay. Barb hated the thing up her cunt and it wasn’t powerful enough to use with any effect on her clit. But she thought it perfect for shoving up my ass.
Well, it was, but only if I was prepared for it. Otherwise the thing hurt like hell when she shoved it deep inside my ass. I had foolishly boasted that I could take a dick up my ass without much difficulty. (Figuring that I could goad her into allowing me to bone her up the ass.)
She accepted that boast and began using the vibrator in me. Now, the first time she did that, we took it slow and I actually did most of the work, if you know what I mean. We put a dry rubber over the vibrator, slicked it up with a ton of Vaseline and carefully worked it past my tight anal ring until it was good and deep.
Man, that was some experience! First, it felt huge, stretching my hole to the limit, but it also felt incredibly good, pressing towards my cock, vibrating and moving. First I dribbled a steady stream of precum from my rock-hard cock, then when I came, it was another spectacular load of jism. My ass contracted so much during orgasm that I forced the vibrator completely out.
Lately Barb was combining large volume enemas with the anal vibrator. She’d make me get up on all fours, with my ass aimed up, take an enema then hold it while she worked that damn plastic thing in my ass.
It began with her gloved hands getting my ass ready for the nozzle. The full E-Z-EM bag would be hanging from the ceiling by a cord, slowly rotating and dripping water.
She’d snag a big gob of Vaseline with one hand and work it into my rectum with her fingers. My cock would be stiff (!) at this point, but if I came too soon, I would still have endure the enema and the reaming, so I tried not to climax right away. Sometimes that wasn’t possible, especially if Barb wanted me to come right away.
She would grab and pull my nuts with her other hand while her two fingers were twisting around in my rectum. I’d beg her to stop, and sometimes she did, but other times she continued until a rain of jism spurted from my spasming cock.
I have to confess that this wasn’t as bad as it seemed. The subsequent large enema and reaming produced another orgasm, much sooner than I could otherwise normally achieve.
After Barb got my ass lubed up to her satisfaction, in went the enema nozzle. That thick pink one with the large opening on its tip. Then the water flow began. Barb stayed behind me, one hand holding the nozzle in place. The other hand either teased my dick and balls or, if she was feeling nice, massaged my hanging (and full) stomach.
Those enemas were hell to take and she made me take just about all of the water. One and a half quarts would go in with no problem, rather enjoyably, actually. Then I’d hit that first wall of pain, the two quart mark. Up until Barb’s enemas, I had to struggle to finish a bag. (I typically stopped the flow when I shot off my load.) Now I was learning (?) to expand my capacity.
I’d start to breathe heavily and fight the cramps as I approached the two and a half quart mark. Here is where I begged for pause, in an attempt to allow my over filed guts to ease their liquid load. Barb concentrated to shut off the flow for a minute or two, but she always began it again before I felt I was ready.
Complaining didn’t do anything, she’d laugh and sternly say I had to finish my enema. She’d pump my cock and squeeze my balls in encouragement. About half the times I finished what she prepared for me.
On the other occasions I couldn’t hold it and fled to the toilet.
The enema done, she would pull out the nozzle and take the bag to the sink. Returning quickly, my moans of pain and cramps made her hurry, she’d give me the plastic weenie treatment.
Up against my asshole went the blunt tip of that vibrator. Since I knew I had to accept it, I tried to relax. Try relaxing your anal muscles with a belly overflowing with a huge enema and see how well you fair. Oh, and make sure you are on your own bed, too.
A sharp stab of pain signaled the passage of the thick shaft. I would attempt to relax so I could enjoy it, but I never could quite catch the pain up with the pleasure.
Barb would fuck me with that vibrator until I lost my load. A horrible way to come! The exquisite, intense pleasure fought with the enema’s unending pain and cramps and the vibrator-stretched asshole torture.
I loved it.
Afterwards we fucked well into the night, but pleasure’s glow lasted only so long, and we went back to fighting until we broke up.
Youth! It’s wasted on the young.
