When Jonathon left home to attend college in London he assumed that he would no longer have his bowels strictly regulated, but had he reckoned with Mother he would have known differently. Immediately after his departure she arranged for a weekly appointment at Nurse Allenby’s colon clinic. Thus it was that within a few days of arriving in London he found himself in a familiar position – on the receiving end of a thick red colon tube.
Nurse Allenby presided over a suite of three treatment rooms where her knowledgeable, young nurses flushed out the upper class colons of London. Each room was thoroughly equipped with all types of enema and irrigation equipment, a well padded enema table, and a private toilet. Here, Jonathon learned to appreciate luxury in the art of enemas as each week one of the dedicated young ladies went to work on his interior.
He soon realized that, after dealing with elderly patients made bad-tempered by constipation, the prospect of treating a youthful male colon was most appealing to these girls, so much so that they arranged a roster between themselves…first week, Susan, second week, Elizabeth (Betty for short), third Marie, then Susan’s turn again. Nurse Allenby allowed her staff considerable freedom of choice in method and consequently Jonathon experienced a very different variety of clysters at the hands of this delightful trio.
It all happened this way. On his first visit to the clinic a lovely maiden, Denise led him into a spacious waiting room where he was warmly greeted by Nurse Allenby, who was, of course, an old friend of Mother’s. After a brief social chat she showed him to a treatment room and left with the instructions to strip completely and lie on the couch with a sheet over him. This he did with some trepidation for he had never been naked in front of anyone outside home, nor for that matter had anyone but his Mother ever given him an enema. Miss Allenby soon returned accompanied by a tall blond nurse who she introduced as Susan. To his youthful embarrassment they immediately started to examine his rectum while Miss Allenby explained Jonathon’s Mother’s wishes. “Each week Jonathan is to have a thorough washout…he is used to high soapsuds and his Mother tells me she has employed the large tube on him. Therefore you may use any technique you like to get him completely clean.”
After this introduction she left him with Susan who proceeded to go to work. Now, you must visualize each enema nurse and her own distinctive style became indoctrinating so that after the first few weeks, he found himself looking forward to Friday afternoons with keen anticipation because those girls added a new dimension in enemas for him…Sex!
Initially, Jonathon did not realize that getting an erection during an enema was not something peculiar, but a symptom to which enema nurses were quite accustomed, at least in the colon clinics of London. It was definitely quite usual to give relief massages to make the patients more comfortable. What a pity. Had he know this, he might have spent less effort during those first few appointments trying to hide his bulging thick prick! Needless to say, those first few contorting, unrelieving sessions were frustrating; however by the time Jonathon left London, Friday afternoons had frankly become erotic as I will describe in detail as follows.
Susan, the first person other than Jonathon’s mother to give him an enema was without a doubt, his favorite. She gave him a very gentle treatment using a simple tube and funnel, first for the mild soapy enema and then for the warm water wash out, emptying the bowel by inverting the funnel into a bucket.
She always started by thoroughly massaging Vaseline deep inside as well as around the anus, a procedure which would start him well on the way to an erection. By about half way through the session it was so hard it would be quivering; and then Susan did the thing that made her his favorite, she went down on him. She would gently roll him over on his back, the tube still in place and she would take him deep in her mouth while slowly sliding the colon tube in and out so that it tickled his prostate. Results were of course not long in coming and as soon as his last spasms had ceased she would lick her lips, smile and start the washout again! The whole episode took place without a word being said on either side. Being young, Jonathon was afraid to say anything that might offend her and she enjoyed pretending that nothing unusual ever happened. However, Susan gave him a taste for oral sex with enemas that I’ll wager, he’ll never forget.
The treatments administered by the other girls were much stricter than Susan’s and were quite different from anything that he had ever experienced. Marie came from Paris where she had worked in a health spa and her technique was typically French. As soon as Jonathon arrived at the clinic she would take him into a small bathroom where he would be instructed to lower his pants and bend over while she inserted a large evacuant suppository, pushing it high up inside the rectum. Then he returned to the waiting room for half an hour or so until it melted and started to work. By the time she took him into the treatment room he was usually desperate to empty his bowels of their burning contents.
The French specialize in suppositories and the cleaning out during one of these sessions was always surprising! When she thought that he had spent long enough on the toilet she would get him up on the table in the knee-chest position and start inserting her special irrigation tube. This was rather like the large double tube his mother often used but was somewhat thicker and longer. From its tip a continuous stream of water flowed, draining through holes set about 15 inches back. The drain could be closed to allow the bowel to distend to facilitate passage of the instrument and to enhance cleansing. Marie was a virtuoso at passing this veritable hose pipe! She would get at least four feet of it in Jonathon by which time his hard-on would be hanging down like a horse’s ! Once she was satisfied that the tube was in place she would leave the drain open so that he received a continuous flushing and would then attend to his stiffened member. With a large handful of lubricating jelly she would gradually bring him to a climax, stretching it out so that when he finally came he covered the table beneath him with great spurting jets. “What a waste” Marie would say as she cleaned it up and got on with the irrigation, flushing him out until the water coming from the drain was completely clear.
Nurse Allenby’s third young lady, Elizabeth or Betty, came from Germany and had worked in a spa and also in a girl’s school where enemas were used as punishment. She had brought with her a collection of retention tubes and appliances with which she was assuredly the strictest enema nurse of the clinic. At first Jonathon wondered why Nurse Allenby allowed her to inflict such pain, but he soon realized that many of the clinic patients had undergone similar treatments as children…the famous Victorian enemas…and enjoyed reliving this part of their childhood. Although Jonathon looked forward to Friday afternoons with Betty, it was with a sort of dread, for he know he would have to suffer great discomfort, but his pride would not let him complain or beg her to stop.
The first part of one of these sessions was, of course, a thorough cleansing enema. These she administered much the same fashion as his mother. A retention egg on the end of a bulb syringe would be inserted and he would lie face down while she pumped in the soap and turpentine clyster until he could take no more. Then she would lean gently on his buttocks for about ten minutes while the caustic mixture churned his insides. It was during one of these times that she told him how she punished schoolgirls, strapping them down to a treatment table while they retained the fluid for up to half an hour. Ten minutes was plenty for him and he literally leapt to the toilet after the nozzle was removed.
She usually irrigated him through an inflatable balloon tube. This was attached to a water tank and a drain with a valve controlling the flow. As the gallons of water ebbed and flowed through his rectum he naturally developed an enormous hard-on. Her way of dealing with this was quite unique. She would hand him a French letter and when it was in place she would apply the business end of a large vibro-massager to the root of his stiff cock and switch it on. The inevitable result was an uncontrollable orgasm within seconds! She would leave the condom in place as the stimulating effect of the rectal tube was such that she sometimes had to apply the vibrator twice, and on one notable occasion, three times, before his prick would go limp !
Yes, every Friday for two years Jonathon went for his enemas and not once did the nurses of Allenby’s clinic fail to surprise him. He was, of course, at the same time enjoying the girls he met at college and after a while began to wonder whether they might respond to enemas in the same way he did. However, he met no encouragement at all and soon gave up mentioning the subject.
At home for a holiday he mentioned this to his married sister who he knew had had as many colon treatments as he. In her usual frank way she explained the situation to him. “I love having enemas and so does Frank,” she told him. “We always have sex right after one and sometimes while we’re taking them together. But I know that many girls hate them and most of the others are just not interested. I think it’s because a woman has so many things inserted into her bottom! Since my marriage, there’s been Tampax, a diaphragm, contraceptive jelly, douches and my gynecologist’s instruments all regularly in my vagina, and a thermometer, suppositories and enemas in my behind. All women have to accept this so it is small wonder the thought of enemas does not turn every woman on unless they got to enjoy them when they were young. Don’t forget you men have only one hole to excite, and that has a prostate in it to tickle!”
Jonathon’s sister’s words made a strong impact on him, so much so that he was more careful in searching for an enema mate. He no longer asked his girl friends whether they enjoyed enemas, but instead looked in their bathrooms for the telltale equipment. Several years passed before he met an attractive woman who enjoyed the sensuous clyster, but when he finally did he made sure of keeping her…she became Mrs. Jonathon Smythe.
