By Anonymous

I promised Elle I’d check on a problem she was having with her computer and, having some free time, dropped by her house. I hadn’t bothered to call first so my arrival was unexpected. I’m not sure of her age but I’d guess she’s in her late thirties or early forties. Elle is the out door type of woman and I’ve always though she was quite pretty in a rugged sort of way. She has never been married and lives with another woman in a house set far off the street. In fact neither of them have ever been married and they don’t date. Their careers take up all their time. Still, both are warm and affectionate and always welcome me with a hug.

Elle was wearing a robe, as if she were about to take a shower, when she opened the door. Friendly as usual she asked me in and thanked me for stopping by to help.

“I’m such a klutz with computers,” she said.

“No problem. Its probably nothing serious.”

I noticed she seemed uncomfortable but I assumed it was because I’d surprised her wearing just her bathrobe. Then I noted the discomfort was not embarrassment but clearly physical. Before starting on the computer I excused myself for a quick trip to the toilet. As I entered I saw a full enema bag with a rectal nozzle hanging on the towel rack next to the toilet. From where she was standing, Elle could see into the bathroom and knew I had seen the enema bag. I turned around and saw her blushing.

“I’m sorry. I should have…”, she stopped in mid sentence, terribly embarrassed.

“That’s okay,” I said. “Are you all right?”

Elle put her hands on her belly. “I’m…. you know. I wish Mary were here to help me.”

I put my arms around her and gave her a gentle hug. Even the slight hug made her wince a little. “Can I help?” I asked softly. “It’ll be okay.”

The was a long silence but finally she nodded ‘yes’.

“You seem badly impacted. I doubt you could take much of an enema. Not enough to help you much for sure. My ex wife had that trouble and I learned how to deal with it.”

Elle looked up at me hopefully and nodded again.

“Do you have a douche syringe?” I asked.

“Down here.” The question puzzled her but she opened the cabinet under the sink and produced a bulb syringe with a long black pipe.

I took the syringe and told her to lay down on the bed. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes. Try to relax.”

It took some looking but I found a bottle of olive oil and a sauce pan in the kitchen. I heated enough oil to fill the eight ounce bulb. Not hot but plenty warm. Before returning to the bedroom I found a jar of Vaseline and picked up a couple towels. Elle was sitting on the bed waiting.

She looked with apprehension at the syringe. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“We have to clear out your rectum and lower colon first. This is warm olive oil. It will help you relax too so you can accept the enema easier. I need you to get on your hands and knees.”

Elle obliged and positioned herself as I asked. “Don’t be embarrassed,” I said softly.

“I can’t help it. You’re going to see everything.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

I raised the back of her robe and revealed a really beautiful ass. Through the heavy bush I could see her pussy lips, partly opened from her kneeling position. Nestled between the firm globes of her cheeks, her little puckered ass hole seemed to be winking at me.

“Just relax now while I put some Vaseline on you.”

She jumped when I touched her so I put a hand on her back and tried to sooth her. “That’s better. Just relax.” I spread her cheeks a little farther and started gently rubbing Vaseline on her little brown hole. After a minute I could tell she was relaxing and with a slight twist I stuck a finger in to spread the Vaseline inside. Elle arched her back and groaned as my finger went in but didn’t offer any resistance.

“The pipe has to go all the way in,” I said as I aimed it. “Just hold still and let me do the work.”

Elle turn her head toward me for a moment. “Don’t hurt me,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. Now hold very still.”

Slowly I pressed the douche pipe against her hole and with a little twist slipped the end in. Again she arched her back and groaned softly as I eased it in deeper until the bulb was pressing on her hole.

“Take a couple deep breath, relax, and tell me when you’re ready.”

She sucked in a big breath and let it out. “Don’t hurt me,” she murmured again then nodded her head.

With both hands I squeezed the bulb as hard as I could and sent a jet of warm olive oil deep into her rectum. I could hear it going in.

Elle jumped when the oil shot up into her body. “Ooohhhhh. It’s hot! OOOOHHHHHHHHHH!” She started to shake a little. “Oh my God!”

I pulled the pipe out and started rubbing her back to calm her. “I want you to hold it as long as you can. Let it work its way in deeper.”

She struggled with the warm oil for a couple minutes but couldn’t hold it. “I have to go,” she mumbled and dashed to the toilet shutting the door behind her. A moment later I heard her moan and then the sounds of her forceful evacuation. It seemed to take forever but finally she came out. There were beads of perspiration on her forehead.

“Wow,” was all she could say before sitting down on the bed. Elle tried to make a smile but somehow she seemed more like a little girl now.

We talked for a few minutes before I told her it was now time to finish the job. I dumped the enema bag and refilled it with warm soapy water and attached a douche nozzle. Lacking anything better, I hung the bag on a camera tripod next to the bed.

“I want you in the same position as before,” I said, “but this time I want you to hug your pillow and keep your shoulders down on the bed.” When she was in position I raised her robe and re-greased her. This time she didn’t move much when my finger went in. Being as gentle as I could, I eased the nozzle all the way in. Elle gave a little murmur and nodded her head when I asked if it was comfortable. “We’ll take this very slow. Take deep breaths and just let it go in. You’ll feel very warm and nice.” I started a slow manipulation of the nozzle by turning it back and forth and moving it in and out. Elle began rocking back and forth as I stroked her. As carefully as I could, I released the clamp but held it closed. For some reason I didn’t want her to hear the loud click. Then, as I was sliding the nozzle all the way into her upturned ass, I silently opened the clamp.

She jumped as she felt the first surge of warm water flooding her rectum. “OOOOHHHHH!” It was almost like a wailing sound. “MMMMMMM. I feel it going in…warm.”

Elle had taken a little over a quart when she started cramping. I slowed the flow and reached under her to rub her belly. “Just a little more. You’re doing fine.”

Even with the flow restricted, she was having trouble and the pressure was rapidly building in her bowels. Like a real trooper, she struggled with the obvious discomfort and cramps that were getting worse by the second.

“You’d better stop,” she moaned. “I feel so terrible full…can’t take any more.” Her breathing was more like gasping for breath.

“Almost done,” I said, trying to reassure her. “Try to take it all.”

With no small effort she manage to take the second quart but was squirming and twisting around as the bag flattened. As soon as I pulled the nozzle out she jumped up clutching her belly and with a loud moan dashed for the toilet. I could hear the soapy water splattering in the toilet amidst periodic solids leaving her body. The enema had clearly done a splendid job. When Elle finally returned she seemed exhausted and lay on her bed curled up in a ball.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Whew. That was something. My stomach still hurts and I’ve got a burning sensation deep inside.”

“The ache is from your constipation and the cramps. The burning is from the soap. After you’ve rested a while we’ll rinse it out and you’ll feel much better.”

I think that was the first time the word constipation had actually been spoken. The soap was still churning in her intestines and I knew we shouldn’t wait too long before rinsing it out. I rinsed out the bag and refilled it with warm water. When it was hung on the tripod I told her it was time to take her rinsing enema if she was ready. Having now been so exposed to my sight and feeling safe, Elle lost most of the embarrassment and started to get into the kneeling position without being told.

“No,” I said. “Lay on you side to start. We’ll change the position in a minute.”

She rolled onto her side and pulled the robe up. I heard a little sigh as I lifted one of those lovely cheeks and worked the Vaseline deep into her anal canal. Being as gentle as I could I again slipped the nozzle through her sphincter and up into her rectum.

“Now roll onto your back and bring your knees up.”

She gave me a questioning glance knowing that this would put her in a totally exposed and vulnerable position and I could see the embarrassment and humiliation returning. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay,” I assured her. She seemed to accept that and, while I held the nozzle firmly up her ass, she rolled over on her back and pulled her knees part way up. I then had her raise up so I could put a towel covered pillow under her to keep her hips elevated. Her robe was tangled so I untied and opened it until her belly was completely exposed.

For a couple minutes we were quiet. Her legs were pressed together and I held the nozzle from under her thighs. Finally her breathing settled and I knew she was relaxing enough to start the enema. “Just close your eyes and feel the warmth as it spreads through you,” I said as I released the clamp. Elle’s body jerked slightly as the warm water started flowing but then she lay still with her eyes closed.

She had taken less than a quart when I asked how it felt. “Good,” she murmured softly. I had lowered the tripod so the flow rate was quite gentle and she seemed to be accepting the enema without any trouble. As the water eased into her now empty colon she relaxed even more and I noted her knees starting to spread. I had been manipulating the nozzle from under her thighs by the usual twisting and stroking that she seemed to enjoy. The only sounds she made were a soft purring as she lay there slowly filling. With my free hand I began massaging her belly to work the water deeper into her intestines. She had now taken just over a quart.

“That feels so good,” she said softly. Her knees were now spread and through the heavy bush of pubic hair I could see her slit partially opened and glistening.

For another few minutes I massaged her belly while she took the remaining water. When the bag flattened I clamped the hose but continued stroking her with the nozzle. The skin on her belly was noticeable tighter from the retained enema and her robe had slipped open enough to expose the under side of her tits. She was indeed a very pretty woman.

“Try to hold it as long as you can,” I said while continuing the massage and stroking. She nodded her head but it was obvious the pressure was building and she would not last much longer. Shortly she started to squirm and shift her position and her breathing became raged.

“I can’t hold it much long,” she gasped.

“That’s okay. You’ve done just fine.”

I pulled the nozzle out of her ass and helped her to her feet. For a couple seconds I gave her a nice hug, her body pressed next to mine and her arms around my neck and head resting on my chest. Standing up, the weight of the water caused the pressure to build. Stepping back a little I started to slip my hand inside her robe to feel her belly. The robe fell open and I had the first unobstructed view of this lovely woman. Her tits had a slight sag but were full and ripe. The nipples, now hard as marbles, jutted prominently from the light brown areola. Her belly was distended from the enema she carried. Not grossly so but still visibly bloated. Gently I stroked her and was surprised at how hard she felt. For a moment she rested her head on my shoulder but a sudden cramp or contraction gripped her.

“Oh God!” It was more like a groan and she doubled over a little. “I can’t hold it any more.” With that she hurried to the toilet, shedding the robe in the process.

Mindless of her complete nudity and the urgency of the situation she didn’t take time to close the bathroom door but sat immediately on the toilet just as she began forcefully expelling the enema. After the first long burst she looked up and realized I could see her. She covered her eyes with her hands, “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean…I just couldn’t hold it anymore.” I saw her body tense and another gush of water spewed from her ass.

“That’s okay,” I said as I closed the door. “I’ll be in the living room when your done.” I heard a muffled “thank you” as I left the room.

Elle must have spend twenty minutes on the toilet. Periodically I could hear her evacuating followed by flushing sounds but she finally emptied herself. Looking very fatigued she came into the living room and sat next to me on the sofa. I put my arm around her and she snuggled close. We sat quietly for several minutes sipping a glass of wine and listening to the soft music from a CD that had been playing.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired. My stomach aches but not the same as before.”

“That’s from the enemas. It will go away in a few minutes.” She nodded her head, then rested it on my shoulder. “Why don’t you lay down and I’ll rub your back.”

Back in the bedroom, Elle lay down on her bed and I gave her the best back rub I could. “MMMmmmmmmm. That feels soooooo gooood,” she purred.

“How do you feel now?” I asked.

“Soooo much better. The ache is gone. I feel completely empty and very clean and nice.” She paused for a moment then continued. “The way you did it…gave me the enemas…was so different. I’ve only had a couple before and didn’t like it at all. Actually, I hated it. But this time it was very nice and I enjoyed it. Thank you for helping me but thank you even more for making me feel comfortable doing it.”

“That’s okay and your welcome. I’m just glad I was able to help you when you needed it.”

Elle rolled over on her back and looked up at me, a very serious look on her face. “Mary and I have a special relationship,” she said softly as if she didn’t want anyone to know. “We’re more than just roommates. That’s why we don’t date. But you’re special to me.” Slowly, but with purpose, she untied her robe and opened it completely. “If you want to have sex with me, you can.”

It was the most matter-of-fact statement I had ever heard. In truth I would have made love with her in a heart beat but somehow I knew it wasn’t something she really wanted to do. I leaned down, brushing her right tit briefly with my hand and kissed her on the mouth. “That’s okay Elle. It isn’t necessary. I understand.”

She hugged me for the longest time and I could feel the warmth of her naked body as she clung to me. When we separated, she smiled as if relieved that she would have to do something that was clearly distasteful to her. It was a genuine offer though and I appreciated it. Closing her robe, she said “Can I call you if I’m in trouble again?”


I think she was drifting off to sleep as I let myself out the front door and went home.