A Love Enema

It may have seemed to be just my imagination, but my Mom had changed. She no longer seemed to be the same old Mom that I’d known before. Reason: She didn’t seem to be very happy about having to help me with my daily enema anymore. I thought that this was unusual because Mom was usually the one that initiated the event usually by inquiring whether or not I’d been to the bathroom recently. That question always ended up with her asking: “Would you like Mom to give you an enema this morning?” I don’t think I ever turned her down.

In those days Mom would always make me feel very special as she gave me my enema. She’d do this by not only comforting me, but also coaching me to the point that I was able to take the entire enema that she had prepared, which on many a day weren’t very large.

I don’t know what had gone wrong with Mom now? But it had. She no longer seemed very interested in whether I had had a bowel movement and if I complained of being constipated even a little bit, you just wouldn’t believe it. She would gripe and groan. Some might even call it bitching. And that wasn’t all. Most days she’d just walk away from me. Other times, she’d go and get her bag, point it at me and say you’d better need this. It was those days that I remember the best for she wouldn’t even use Vaseline to insert the nozzle. She’d just fill the bag and ram the nozzle in, open the shut off, and leave. There was no encouragement, nothing. Just the bare minimal.

Now, how would you interpret her change? Would you enjoy it? I thought of everything that I had done recently in an attempt to see if I could determine what I had done to cause this sudden change. But, I couldn’t think of a single thing that would have caused it. I just began to think that she was just letting me know in no uncertain terms that I ought to be doing the procedure myself?

I quickly evaluated my options, and decided to follow my instincts and just quit asking for her help. . . I could do it myself and that is what I did whenever I wanted or needed one.

Really, it was no big deal, right? All I had to do was borrow Mom’s bag from the cabinet, fill it with water and attach the tubing and Wah-la, enema. Any moron could do it!

But, my conscious started to bother me. I thought about it and started to tell Mom what I was doing, but decided not to. I did not feel that she’d mind one bit especially the way she’d been acting lately. But, was I wrong. Today, I know that I hurt Mom’s feelings a bit. In fact, the more I think about it, I honestly believe that Mom really did enjoy giving me my daily enemas after all. But, at the time, as I said before, I did not know. I really thought that she was tired of doing it.

As for Mother, I don’t think it took Mom long to realize what I was doing. But, she never once let on if she did in fact know.

As for me, I continued to borrow Mom’s bag, which caused me to be rather proud of myself. I, however, did hope though that she would ask about it so I could pat myself on the back. Still, she didn’t say a word so I decided to encourage her. I went as far as to leave her douche bag wet when I put it up. But, as I said before, she continued to say nothing. Then one day Mom surprised me not in word, but in deed. You see she had hid her douche bag from me. She was the fox, not me. She wanted me to speak first. And this is how it unfolded.

I went to the bathroom as usual about 4 o’clock. I opened the bathroom cabinet to retrieve the bag, but the bag was gone from its normal place. I looked throughout the cabinet. No bag. Then it occurred to me, Mom may have used it herself and had just left it hanging so I looked around the bathroom. No bag. I was getting desperate - Think Mike, think - Had Mom hid her bag from me for a reason? Nah, but where was it? After a while, I got kinda mad. How dare she? I contemplated about going right to her and asking her for it, but decided not to. Instead, I snuck out of the bathroom and went into the living room and turned the TV on.

Mom, realizing that I had left the bathroom soon came in, sat down and asked, “I thought you were in the bathroom?”

I replied, “I was but then I remembered my favorite show was about to come on.”

I knew Mom was baiting me and I just didn’t take the bait.

When Mom left the room, I decided in no uncertain terms that I must have that enema I craved. So, I decided again to look around a bit more. This time it only took a few minutes for me to find the bag. It was no trouble. I found it under some of her panties in the top drawer of her chest of drawers. As for my being quiet, no way… Mom couldn’t have helped but know what I was doing. But as horny as I was, at that point I did not really care.

I ended that session taking at least 2 enemas back to back and when I was finished, I returned Mom’s bag to the location where I had found it and went into the kitchen where Mom was busy preparing dinner. Mom didn’t say a word and I intentionally went back into the bathroom to poop a bit more.

This type of silence continued until…

One day, which was about a week later, I don’t know whether it was a Friday or a Saturday afternoon, but what happened next will be etched into my memories forever.

I had just gotten Mom’s bag from out of the drawer and had gone into the bathroom to do my thing. (I was as horny as hell.) Then out of the blue there came this knock on the door. I did not answer it, pretending that I really had not heard it. Mom knew that I had heard it though and called out, “I know you have my thing in there.”

Still, I did not reply back. I just bent down over the tub and turned the water on, leaving the next move up to Mom. And did she respond?

Mom knocked again and then entered the room.

I looked around over my left shoulder peering up at Mom. She reached out her hand and said, “Hand it here.”

I hem-hawed around a bit trying my best to get her to give up, but give up was not what she had in mind for that day.

She again echoed, this time sounding angry, “Mike, I said give me my enema bag, and I mean give it to me now!”

I shrugged my shoulders and eventually handed it over to her saying, “Mom, I really need to take an enema today. Can’t I?”

Mom did not respond, she just turned and headed out of the room holding the red bag in her right hand and letting the tubing drag on the floor.

I felt as if my Mom had kicked the wind right out of my gut.

Then, just as she exited the room, she turned back around, looked me squarely in the eyes and said, “Are you constipated?”

I started to grin and Mom, with this funny smirk on her face, asked, “Does, Mike want his Mama to give him his ENEMA today like she used to?”

I couldn’t believe my luck. I thought for a second and came to the conclusion that if I said no I wouldn’t have this opportunity again, so I shook my head in approval, grinning all the while. Now, Mom knew I was pleased and she also knew that I wanted an enema from her more than anything in the world, but she continued to not let on.

In fact, Mom again looked me straight in the eye and asked: “Now, be honest with me Mike, tell me this, is Mike mad at Mom or something?

I said “Mom, I thought you were tired of helping me?”

She responded, “Mike, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. Would you please forgive me?”

I smiled, hugged her neck, and said, “You’re forgiven, that is if you will make this enema really special for me.”

I must have taken Mom by surprise because she pulled back a bit and then said, “OK, son, I’ll try, but I really don’t know what you mean by really special.”

I, still maintaining eye contact with Mom, said, “I want you to make it enjoyable.”

Mom shook her head then uttered, “I’ve never heard of anyone ever enjoying an enema other than you, but I guess I can try to make it as pleasurable as I can, that is if there is such a thing. Remember Mike, enemas, as you know, aren’t designed to be recreation. They are used to make you shit. And I can guarantee that I can do that, but for me to make it agreeable to your emotions will be the hard thing. I have no utter idea on how to go about making the sensations that you want from this enema pleasurable.”

She paused, shook her head and then said, “But I guess I can give it a try, who knows there really might be a way. I just have never heard of one, but again, I’ve not done much research on it either. Now, before we begin, I will need your help. I need to truly know if you are even the least bit constipated?”

I wondered what in the world did she mean by that statement. Surely, she knew. Why the prodding? Did she want me to spell it out for her or was that part of her plan to heighten my anticipation? I looked at her bewildered for a second. Then, I asked, “Why that question, Mom?” as I turned off the water in the tub.

Mom replied, “Cause if you are even a little bit constipated to start with, I think, we should take care of that first and then proceed with the other, more pleasurable aspects. Don’t you agree?”

I responded back, “You mean that there are different kinds of enemas?”

Mom said, “Of course, there are. For example, if you are constipated, then that is an enema of the medicinal kind; medicinal enemas also relieve gas and can be used to administer medicine. Then, there are also enemas that are given to get a patient ready for surgery or child birth.”

I looked at her thinking I didn’t know that.

Then, she added, “In addition, Mike there are also enemas for other reasons too, such as…”

She stopped dead in mid-sentence, looked away a second, turned a little red. I could tell that she had about put her foot in her mouth so I helped her out by saying, “Yes Mom, what else?”

She swallowed and scrunched up her face saying, “You know …”

I didn’t know and said that, “No Mom, I don’t know!”

Mom again looked away and said, “There are enemas, like the one you’ve asked for, given solely for personal enjoyment reasons if there really is such a thing.”

I said “Oh, I see.”

Mom quickly questioned, “Now, ruling out childbirth, surgery and the administering of medicine, do any of the other reasons explain why you want me to give you this here enema today?”

I smiled and replied, “I think so!”

She then said, “Are you going to tell me or are you going to make me guess?”

I said, “I guess I’ll tell you, Mom!”

She said, “Well, I am waiting!”

I looked away from her eyes and told her, “Mom, I am not really constipated, at least, not bad and I don’t have gas so I guess it is the other kind.”

Mom responded, “What other kind?”

I smiled, looked down at the floor and said, “The one given for personal enjoyment? I really would like to go into ecstasy while you are giving me it!”

Mom giggled and I responded again, “Mom, I really do like the feeling that an enema gives me as it goes in and then fills every cavern of my belly and that is not to mention the feeling of love I receive when you give it to me in your loving ways. Will you really go the extra mile and give me a pleasurable enema?”

Mom didn’t respond so again I spoke up, “If you do, you will without a doubt make me feel extremely loved.”

Mother appeared shocked at my statement. She shook her head and finally uttered these words as she walked towards the sink unscrewing the tube from the bottle. “You are really perverted Mike. I suspected that particular answer when I first came in here. But, let me ask you this again, because this is important, you say you are not really constipated. Are you sure?”

I thought to myself again and then uttered, “Well, maybe a little.”

She paused at the sink and then turned towards me again speaking in a real low voice making sure I was listening well: “No Mike, enemas aren’t all exactly alike even though they all result in water being injected into the intestines causing the eventual movement of the bowels. An enema just to relieve constipation is small and quick, like the one I am about to give you to relieve your constipation, but the kind you’ve really asked for must be big. In fact, it should be real big and take me quite some time to give it to you.”

Mom was already making that enema special and she had not even begun to do it yet.

Mom continued to talk real low and slow, “Mike, to be real special, real special, real loving, it has got to be different. Now, let me consider just how I am going to do this here special enema that you have requested.”

I spoke up: “What are you saying?”

She spoke louder saying: “I was saying, let me consider just how am I going to do this here special enema that you have requested? I am not exactly sure how I will proceed. You see, I have never given you or anyone else a personal enjoyment enema before, at least not to my knowledge. Do you have any particular suggestions that might help me to set a direction by which to proceed since you will be the one that is going to be receiving it. I really do want to please you today, son, and not just give you a normal enema?”

I only said, “You are already doing that Mom, my stomach has all kinds of butterflies in it right now.”

Mom smiled, then she said, “First things first though, let us take care of that constipation problem first and then we will talk more about this. It will give me a few minutes to think. OK?”

I said, “OK!” and Mom prepared me a small enema which I took with no problem. While I sat on the john expelling that beloved water, Mom came in and said, “I’ve got an idea. Listen and then tell me what you think of this suggestion.”

I said, “OK!”

She smiled and then said, “First, let’s set the parameters for this particular enema. OK?”

I said, “OK!”

“The first parameter must be: to be truly special, this enema, like I said earlier, has to be much larger than the one I just gave you or that I have given you in the past. Wouldn’t you agree that it can’t be the normal sized, baby.”

I replied, “Oh yes, a pint is definitely out, but exactly how big are we talking?”

Mom uttered, “I am probably talking about giving you several bags today, son. You think you are up to it?”

I stood there looking at her. I really did not know if I could.

She then asked, “You do want this here enema to be different, don’t you?”

I said, “Yes, but, several bags? I haven’t been able to get an entire bag all in very often.”

She then uttered, “Well today, my child, we are planning on setting a new record. I’m going to give it to you real slow and make sure you take as much as you can even if it takes me all day to put it up into you. I want to see your belly swell much larger than it is now. You are up to it my son, aren’t you?”

I really didn’t comprehend what she had said so I responded, “…I think so!”

She frowned up her face and said, “YOU THINK SO! I’ll be there to help you, to coach you!”

I quickly understood that I must have said the wrong thing and corrected myself saying, “I am up to it, I am up to it! YES, I’m really up to it!”

Mom smiled and said, “We will soon see, won’t we?” Then, she looked me directly in the eyes and asked, “How am I doing, am I making that anticipation that much more? Am I getting you all hot and bothered?”

I grinned and Mom knew she was on the right track. Then she said, “Oh, where was I?”

I said, “You were saying that this enema has to have a lot of volume and you asked if I thought that I could take it all.”

She replied, “Oh yes, I remember, now what else can we do to make this enema really special, other than just make it big, cause I feel that it has to be different in other ways too! What about solution? Can’t we do something to the solution too? Normally, we use only plain water right?”

I said, “Right!”

Mom thought for another second and then said, “We really ought to use something else besides just plain water today son, this enema can’t be just plain water. Plain water will not cause you to feel anything different inside than normal and I do want you to feel something different today.”

I suggested that she use some of her Massengill douche preparation, but she didn’t like that idea saying, “That stuff is for the vagina, not the intestines. Besides, it won’t cause cramping.”

I said, “Cramping, why cramping?”

Mom said, “To make it special, to make you remember it. So, what can I put into that bag that will enhance the cramping?” She thought a couple of more seconds and then said, “In a book I was reading about sexuality while you were in here expelling that first enema, I read that some people put ivory soap into their enema water to enhance the purging effect and cramping. Others, according to the book, use only salt. What do you say, shouldn’t we use both. You have any complaints?”

I responded “None at all, my bootie is yours for your bidding! I will try anything once.”

She smiled and said, “I hoped you’d say that and I am so glad that you feel that way. We are going to definitely have a good time today son. I am going to give you a very large enema filled with soap, and salt. But, is that enough? Is there anything else I can do to this enema to make it special? We really do want this enema to be an experience of a lifetime, don’t we? Now, what else can I add to the water to make this here enema even more special?”

I thought for a second or so and then asked, “Do you think that the solution’s temperature would make a difference? Seems to me it would.”

Mom responded, “Excellent idea, temperature really could make a big difference. At least it ought too! I don’t think that we have ever used anything but warm water right?”

I smiled and said, “I may be wrong, but I think you are right.”

She said, “Well, to make this one different, I think I will start out by giving you a bag of ice cold soapy water to chill and clean your insides. Then, if that goes well, I will give you a bag of hot water with only a little soap to warm you up. Doesn’t that sound good? I’ll hold you in my arms as I slowly inject the water to make you feel loved and I’ll talk loving, encouraging, words to you too!”

I replied, “Oh yes, Mom, I really can’t wait, you are making me really, really excited. But, what about the salt?”

She smiled and then added, “But Mike, I am not through.”

I was beginning to get real anxious and Mom being very observant said, “I want to give you one additional bag of just good old warm salty water to soothe your insides.”

I couldn’t help but respond. For I just honestly realized that Mom was talking about giving me three full bags of water at once and said, “Mom, you are talking about giving me three full bags of water, all at once! Remember, I usually have a hard time just taking half a bag?”

Mom replied, “Today Mike, I envision that first half a bag going in so smoothly that if I tried to stop, you’d cry and if I do it just right, you will love every ounce, 3 bags and all. In fact, I bet your butt will even be asking for more once that last drop leaves the tube.”

I grinned and uttered, “I don’t know about that!”

She hugged me and replied, “Well, today you will love it, and like I said earlier, I have all day and if it takes all day to put those bags in, then it will take all day. You will love it, I guarantee that or I’m pretending to be your Mom.”

I then said, “I don’t know if I’ll …..”

Mom said, “of course you will. You will take every ounce of that delicious water. I’ll be there helping you, coaching you. You will not fail. I will start out immediately upon my release of the shut off by rubbing your belly and tickling your back. And if that is not enough, I will coach you with words of encouragement. And if that is still not enough, I’ll repeat the process a second time for we don’t want you to go away unhappy, do we?

I smiled knowing full well that my manhood was sticking straight out, but proceeded to say anyway, “Mom, I love you!”

Mom also smiled and said, “I love you too son, but we need to get busy, if I am going to please you like you want.”

With those words she put the bag and hose into the sink and proceeded to open the front bathroom door and leave the room saying, “Don’t leave now, Mom’s going into the kitchen to prepare that very special treat just like you requested and I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

A few seconds later, I heard her stirring around in the kitchen, opening cabinets, dumping ice out of the ice tray into the sink and running water. To me it seemed like an eternity before she returned, but it wasn’t. Only a few minutes, I guess.

I looked at her and saw that she was carrying a brown pitcher, some ivory dishwashing liquid, and a container of salt.

She looked at me and stated, “I hope you are ready?”

I shook my head up and down grinning the whole time.

Mom smiled as she put the pitcher and salt onto the cabinet and then said: “It won’t be long now, son. Mom’s going to pour a little of this soap into that bag first though,” which she did.

Then, I saw her pick up the pitcher of ice water. She pointed it at me and said, “Now, keep an eye on the bag as I pour this ice cold water into it. It is going to do just like your stomach will in a few minutes, expand.”

I knew how to follow directions and watched the procedure carefully and Mom was right, the bag immediately began to enlarge, slowly at first then a little bit more rapidly. Soon it was completely full and suds were spilling out of the top. Mom pointed the bulging bag at me and said, “Your stomach will soon be filled with this cold soapy liquid and boy, is it cold. You want to feel.”

I said, “Yes, hand it here.”

Mom lay the pitcher down on the top of the sink and placed the bag against my stomach. I immediately felt it and found out that she was right, it wasn’t just cold, it was frigid and I commented to her, “You’re really going to be putting that cold of water up into me?”

Mom responded, “You asked for it, didn’t you? So you had better get ready.”

I swallowed hard, pulled the bag away from my stomach and handed it back to her. She quickly picked up the hose from the sink and began to screw it into the bottle. Within seconds, Mom had the syringe all together and in its proper state, hanging on the side of the door in preparation of the job it was to do.

My manhood had not gone down a bit. Butterflies were swarming all through me. I was ready. Mom looked at me and said, “I’ll be right back! I just remembered one more thing!”

I replied, “Hurry.”

So, Mom again left the room.

I really, at that point, did not know for sure whether I really wanted to take this enema or not. I even thought about running out of the house, but I knew that I had gone too far. I had committed myself and I saw no way out of it. I knew that I had made my bed so to speak, and I guess I knew also that I was going to definitely have to lie in it. So, I thought what the hell, it couldn’t be that bad, or could it? I might even like it. Anyway, I was interested to say the least. Remember, all the enemas I had ever had had been solely for medicinal reasons and this one was going to be for personal enjoyment!

Mom soon re-entered the room carrying with her two pillows and her big black douche nozzle.

She handed one of the pillows to me saying, “I want to make this enema very pleasurable, son. This pillow is for you to lay your head on while I give you this enema,” pointing at the bag on the door.

I said, “Mom, you’ve thought of everything” as I got into my normal knee chest position on the floor placing my head comfortably onto the pillow that Mom had just brought me.

Mom, then placed the other pillow on the floor next to my left hip. She did not sit down right then though, instead she reached up into the medicine cabinet for the Vaseline jar, I suppose. She looked for a second or so and then asked, “Have you seen the Vaseline?”

I said “No!”

Then, she found some Vicks saying, “I guess, this will do!” placing it onto the floor next to the pillow. I could tell that Mom was quickly getting everything ready so she could begin.

I began to snuggle down onto the pillow and caught a glimpse of Mom with hose in hand. She removed the tiny enema tip from the hose and replaced it with her ominous looking black douche nozzle. She then pointed it over into the sink. She saw me looking and said, “I thought you’d like this nozzle better. It will definitely feel different.”

I thought to myself, yes it will be bigger.

Mom then said, “Only one more thing to do and we will be ready. I’ve got to prime the hose and then we can begin.”

I turned back around knowing full well that my first ever personal enjoyment enema was now only seconds away. If it was better than it was now, I’d be in heaven.

Mom again turned the water on in the sink. Then she just stood there, scratching her head. I guess she was thinking. All of a sudden she spoke as she began to sit down saying, “I think I have everything ready and I can see that you are ready, so I guess it is time!”

I spoke up saying, “Mom, I love you!”

Mom adjusted herself onto the pillow and picked up the Vicks vapor-rub jar. I watched her as she opened the jar and dipped her index finger on her right hand into the container pulling out a big old plug of the stuff. She immediately smeared some of it onto the douche nozzle that was hanging on the end of the long red tube. She then smeared the remaining bit onto my bootie hole as well saying, “I’ve got to lube you up good today son, this thing is a lot bigger than the one that you are used to.”

I began to press my butt against Mom’s finger.

Mom asked, “You like this?”

I said, “Mom, I do, I do. Oh, it feels so good!”

Mom continued to smear the Vicks around my crack in small circular motions. The feeling was incredible. Mom leaned over and kissed my neck as she slid her finger up into me. I almost came right there and immediately let out a cooing sound. The Vicks was different from the normal Vaseline. It burned a bit, but I loved it.

Mom then leaned over to my ear and in a tender voice asked, “Do you like the Vicks?”

I uttered, “Oh, Mom, I do!”

Mom then began to slide her finger in and out of my rectum in a rather slow but sensual manner. Then she uttered, “Do you want me to continue to fondle your butt with my finger like I am currently doing or do you want me to stop and give you the cold soapy water that is hanging in the bag?”

I somehow said, “Mom, you just don’t know how much I like what you are doing. Could you continue on a while longer and then I think I’d like to try some of that ice cold soapy water! Will you please, please take your time and give it to me? Now? I want this enema!”

Mom withdrew her finger and as if I wasn’t expecting it, I felt her replacing it with the long black douche nozzle, which I took in without any trouble despite its size. I took in a deep breathe. Mom patted my back and said good boy as she wiggled it a bit. Then she slid her left hand onto my abdomen area.

She said, “We’re about to begin. You are ready, aren’t you?”

I took in another deep breathe and before I could even let it out, I heard Mom unsnap the tube’s shut-off. This was followed by a gurgle and then almost immediately a swish.

The enema had begun. Cold water, freezing water, was definitely invading my body from below. It was unlike anything that I had ever felt before. It was cold, but wasn’t really unpleasant. Mom saw to that. In fact, she made it so great that a certain feeling of warmth crept over me and all I could do was lay there and take it and it did not take my rectum long to fill. I could feel the pressure building and I thought that I was about to explode. It began to get very uncomfortable.

Mother noticed this and began to vigorously prod my belly area. Then she shut off the flow that was invading my rectum, which was not a second too soon. I was just about in tears when all of a sudden there was this release of tension, which I hoped was not me. Soon, the pain began to subside and I could feel an area right above my pelvic region on the left side of my body getting cold.

Mom asked if I was OK, and I said, “I think so. I was really uncomfortable a few seconds ago though.”

Mom said, “I am going to wait a few minutes before I open the shut-off again, so just relax. I am going to give you the rest of this enema real slow, I do not want this to hurt you.”

I replied, “Mom, take your time, I really do love you.”

With the enema stopped she continued to rub my belly in a very sensual way. Then, if by chance, her arm slid over my manhood. Sparks flew all over me.

Then, there was this click. Mom had restarted the enema. Soon, the pressure came back, but it did not last long. Mom reshut the shut-off. A second or so later, I felt another release, and my lower right side began to chill. It was at that point, I can honestly say that I was going to areas that I had never gone to before. I was feeling every ounce as it slithered throughout the interior parts of my body reaching heights that had never been subjected to water before. I was honestly loving it.

Mom, I guess, being curious herself, asked if I was OK and if I could feel the cold water.

I said “Oh, yes Mom. It’s c-o-l-d. It’s very COLD!”

Mom then asked, “Do you want me to restart it or keep it stopped?”

I couldn’t help but reply, “Please restart it.”

In reality, I couldn’t believe that Mom was doing this to me again. I really had thought that I had had my last enema from Mom in my life. But was I wrong? I thought that I had died and gone to heaven. I was in such ecstasy.

Mom’s next words were, “It’s really going in now. It hasn’t taken any time for most of this bag to go in, once it got going and boy is it flattening out.”

I replied, “Mom, you just wouldn’t believe how good this enema feels. I am feeling water in parts of me that I have never felt before and I am loving it. It feels oh so good. I am tingling all over and I don’t think I’d rather be any other place in the world than right here right now with you.”

Mom in turn replied, “I’m glad you are enjoying it. I didn’t see how you would, but I hoped in the back of my mind that you would.”

A second or so passed and she added, “Mike, I can even feel the chill on my hands now, the cold has made its way to your skin.”

I said, “No joke!”

She replied, “No joke!”

The next thing I heard was Mom snapping of the hose shut. She spoke, “Well, you took that bag, big boy! I am proud, so proud of you!”

I looked around and saw Mom starting to get up. I started to get up also, but Mom pushed me back down onto my knees saying, “We aren’t through with you yet! You and I have scheduled a couple more of these things I think. Right? I have only just begun.”

I again assumed the knee chest position awaiting whatever Mom delivered. I was really amazed at it all. Mom had suddenly become the Mom of old and as hard as it was for me to believe, I was not in any pain at all. I couldn’t believe it! Why was today different? Maybe I really could take several bags? We would soon see wouldn’t we?

I watched Mom as she got a piece of ice out of the pitcher. She retook her seat next to me and began to rub the ice over my back. It was cold, but not unpleasant. I relaxed and enjoyed every minute of it. Finally, the ice melted and Mom got up. Then I watched her as she began to take the bag down from the door. Within seconds, I knew, she would be filling it anew and I wasn’t wrong. In fact, she had it bulging again before I could count to ten. She saw me looking up at her and she showed it to me. My heart was about to come out of my chest. She winked at me and then suspended it. I could tell that Mom was wasting no time in giving me my enjoyment.

She quickly assumed her position onto her pillow and said, “You’ve had your heaven, now I am going to give you a little hell. This one isn’t cold like the last one.”

I said, “What?”

She said, “You heard me, it is not cold. It is just the opposite, real hot.”

I said, “Hot?”

She said, “Yes, hot. In fact, it is hotter than hell.”

Again she placed her hand onto my belly. I looked up at her and threw her a kiss. She again winked at me and then I felt her hand on my back. She began to massage the area. It too felt so good. I was just about asleep when Mom reached up for the shut-off. I saw her snap it and then I heard a gurgle sound which was soon followed by a swish. Mom asked me if I felt the hot water yet?

I told, “Not yet, why?”

She said, “You should, you’ve already taken about a fourth of it and I don’t want you to miss it.”

She reached up and snapped the shut-off shut. Then she pulled back on the nozzle and began to push it in and out of my rectum. A couple of minutes later she stopped leaving the nozzle just barely hanging from my rear. Then she said, “That ought to do it! Just wait a few more seconds, and let me know.” With that she again unsnapped the shut-off again.

Well, that little old adjustment did it. A feeling of warmness overcame me and I told Mom so. It felt great. I could tell that my stomach area was stretching, but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable.

Mom started to massage my back as well as my stomach as my enema continued. Then she said, “I really didn’t think you’d be able to do it, take this much water, my boy. This bag’s about empty too! You want this to be your last bag?”

I responded, “Oh Mama, you may not have known exactly how to give me an enjoyable enema, but you are doing fantastic. I know you can see my doodle-bug. It hasn’t gone down since we first started talking awhile ago. I’m loving this enema and I am loving you. I know that this might seem strange, but I know it’s you filling me and not the water! I now know what a girl feels like when she is pregnant.”

Mom spoke, “I never thought of it that way, but I guess that in a way you are.”

I uttered, “I love this feeling. I can really feel my belly stretching to accommodate the water, Mom! Now, I can truly understand why you always said that your love for Dad increased once you felt me growing inside you. Right? And Mom, I can really feel your love growing in me and it is not just the water.”

Mom replied, “I am glad my enema is going so good and, Mike, you are right, I am filling you with not only water but my love, big boy.”

About that time, I heard her resnap the shut-off. I looked around again and Mom asked, “Well, do you want me to stop or give you more? I don’t know how you could take much more. You ought to see your belly. You appear to look almost 6 or 7 months pregnant. I don’t want you to pop!”

I felt my belly and grinned. Then I looked up into Mom’s eyes and said, “Mom, I am not in any pain at all. In fact, I feel mesmerized and I think I can take some more, that is if you will give it to me real slow like you have been.”

That did it. I watched as Mom stood up and took down the bag for the third time. She saw me looking up at her and said, “This bag’s going to be the salt water solution I told you about. I will try and make it as pleasant as I can. Salt is supposed to have a soothing effect on your insides and I want you to be sure and take as much of it as you can for me, OK?”

I responded, “I’ll try! I can’t believe I’ve taken 2 bags!”

She said, “You have and you’ll what?”

I quickly reiterated, “I will take it all, I will!”

Mom grinned and said, “That’s better!”

Within seconds Mom had it full again, and ready to go. I didn’t really know if I’d be able to take 6 full quarts of water in one sitting, but I was going to give it a good old try. Especially with Mom helping me. I think Mom was enjoying it as much as I was.

Mom quickly assumed her position onto her pillow. She pulled the nozzle out of my rectum. I looked around and saw Mom again dipping it into the Vicks jar. I grinned to myself expecting her to slide it back in, but she didn’t. Instead, she replaced it with her finger again. I said, “Oh, I love that!”

Mom then, instead of pulling it and pushing it in as before, turned her finger right and left. I snuggled down onto the pillow purring. Mom continued to probe my rectum with her finger, then she said, “Man, Mike, your rectum isn’t stretched out like a balloon like I thought it would be, considering all the water I have pumped up into you. In fact, if I didn’t know that you had taken it, and just judging from your rectum, I would say that you are empty.”

Mom removed her finger and slipped a piece of ice into my butt! I grinned and Mom knew it. She asked, “You like that too, don’t you?”

I reached under my belly and grabbed my little member and said, “Oh Mom, I love you so much!”

She slipped another piece in and then repositioned the nozzle. I released my member and was expecting the click sound, but she did not open up the shut-off immediately. Instead, she reached under my body and began a gentle massage of my belly saying, “You really do feel almost pregnant, Mike! Your belly isn’t tight, but it is full. Let’s see if I can move some of this water into your upper belly so that this bag I just hung will have room to go in too.”

I laughed saying, “Mom, you are thinking of everything!”

Mom then asked if I was ready for my last bag?

I replied, “As ready as a person in my position could possibly be.” Mom said, “Good! I’ll give this one to you real slow and you should be able to take it.” With that she did reach up and unsnap the shut off.

Water again invaded my swollen abdomen. At first, I experienced a real big pain right in my lower side, but then it quickly went away. I guess Mom knew what she was talking about. This bag of salt water wasn’t at all like the other two bags. It had a very soothing effect. I felt no cramping. In fact, it felt great.”

Mom continued to shut off the flow ever 30 seconds or so. Then she would massage my belly, telling me how well I was doing and how much water remained inside the bag. My manhood was standing straight out. If she had touched it, it would have exploded. Finally, Mom told me that I had done it. I had taken my third complete bag of water.

I was real proud. Then Mom did the unthinkable. She slid her hand onto my thing. I couldn’t control it no longer. I exploded all over the floor and Mom knew it. She squeezed my organ a couple of times and I almost passed out. But, Mom brought me back to earth when she said, “Mike, we did it, didn’t we? We achieved our goal of pleasure! Right?”

I grinned up at her.

Then, she patted me right on the back and I felt her slowly remove her douche nozzle from my rectum. I was still in heaven. Then Mom reached for my hand which I gave her and she proceeded to help me to my feet. Once up, she asked me to turn sideways and face the floor length mirror, which I immediately did.

“Boy, I look 9 months pregnant!”

She quickly replied, “What else did you expect yourself to look like Mike. You do have three full bags of soapy, salty enema water up in you at this time.”

I asked her if I could proceed to the toilet. She granted my request and immediately I made my way over to the toilet, where I let out one stream of water after another. I must have sat there for an entire hour, shitting my brains out.

Mom eventually left the room, but came in periodically checking on me to see if I had finished. Finally, I told her that I had and guess what? Mom reached the enema bag and repeated the process 2 more times. WHAT A SPECIAL DAY THAT WAS! And guess who helps me with my enemas today?