It was with a twinge of excited anticipation that I made my way down to the small West End hotel dining room for breakfast. I knew they always had copies of the Daily Telegraph on the sideboard as “breakfast companions” for the hotel guests, and I wanted to make sure my eyes hadn’t deceived me a few days before. I had been on my way in to London from the country and had picked up a copy of this leading London newspaper on an empty seat in the railway carriage. While browsing idly through the oft times amusing and sometimes bizarre Personals column, my eyes caught the words “Colonic Lavage.” In astonishment I read on: “Stimulating, beneficial, and relaxing. David Osgood, SRN.” A London telephone number followed. But stupidly I had left the newspaper on the
train in my rush to catch a taxi.
Sure enough, there was the same ad again, about half way down the Personals column. My imagination began to run riot. What sort of colonic treatment did he give? Did he give an enema first? What sort of equipment did he have? Would there be other people in the waiting room? Would his colonic treatment be erotic and exciting, or would it just be clinical and routine? I had had only one professionally given colonic a few years before during a brief visit to Los Angeles. It was an affair with a Dierker, but given uninterestingly by a crisp, starchly efficient elderly nurse. I had a strong premonition that my encounter with David Osgood would be an entirely different story. It was all I could do to busy myself until 10:00 a.m.–the hour I thought most appropriate to telephone for an appointment. Even though I was in a private booth, I blushed beet-red as I dialed the Welbeck exchange and the four digit
number. An erection was well on its way before a deep masculine voice answered after only three rings. “Plombieres Clinic,” he announced. Yes, he was David Osgood, and yes, he could fit me in at about five o’clock that evening. Yes, he always gave a preliminary enema, and even allowed his patients to select the type of equipment used from his wide collection. His voice had a quietly seductive quality to it that seemed to say, “Wait until you see what I have in store for you!” I was so excited that I dropped the receiver while trying to hang-up.
Somehow I managed to fill in the day until it was time to make my way to the Montague Apartments on Davis Street. But every moment of this long wait was filled with fantasies of what adventures lay in store for me. Did he really have a lot of exciting equipment? What sort of enema would he give? What would the colonic irrigation look like? Would he use a long or short colon tube?
I raced up the three flights of stairs (I couldn’t wait for the elevator) and there before me was the heavy oak door with a small brass plate inscribed with the words “Plombieres Clinic.” With pounding heart, I pressed the bell and waited. Footsteps sounded inside, the latch was withdrawn, and the door opened slowly revealing a handsome, middle-aged man, dressed in whites. David Osgood ushered me down a dark, oak paneled passageway past a small waiting room, and into the treatment room. I caught my breath in astonishment and excitement as I looked around the room. There was enema and colonic equipment everywhere: the place was literally decorated with red rubber bags, rectal and colon tubes, rubber sheets, enema bulbs, irrigating cans, etc., etc. There were four irrigating stands: from two were suspended large red enema bags, one of which looked as if it would hold a gallon easily; from a third hung a large white enamel enema can with its long red rubber tube draped enticingly through the handle of the can; and the fourth stand was the piece de resistance–it was more like a pedestal that the others and it supported a large three-gallon glass irrigating jar obviously used for giving the colonic irrigation I was about to experience. From the bottom of this glass container ran a long wide-bore red rubber tube that led to a three-way glass connector. To one of the outflow branches of this was connected a huge 1” inch-wide red rubber outflow tube. On the remaining utflow branch was attached the largest colon tube I had ever seen.
David saw my gaze come to rest on this monster tube and he smiled and said, “You’ll be getting that all the way up inside you during the colonic lavage, but first I have to make sure you have a good preliminary clean-out.” He continued, “I always start my treatment with a good enema. I decide on what solution to use and how much to give, but I let my patients choose what enema equipment they would like me to use. They often feel more comfortable with equipment they are familiar with.
As you can see, I have a complete selection of enema apparatus.” Since our old family standard was a white enameled enema can, I decided on that one. Besides, the one on the irrigating stand was considerably larger than the one my mother used to use on my brother and myself, and I was very much looking forward to taking a good big enema.
As I undressed and wrapped my nakedness in the bathrobe he put out for me, I eagerly watched David as he went about preparing the enema. He laid a large red rubber sheet out on the hospital bed he used as a treatment table and placed a folded white towel in the center of it. He then took the enema can off the irrigating stand and carried it into the adjacent bathroom where he started running hot water through it. Then I heard him bustling about, mixing up the enema solution in a large white enameled pitcher. When he returned, he was carrying the enema can in one hand and the brimming pitcher in the other: soapsuds were foaming over the top and running slowly down the sides. I was delighted to see that he had attached a good-sized (about 36 French) colon tube to the connector at the end of the enema can hose. The solution in the pitcher was obviously a strong mixture, but when I asked him what it was, he merely smiled and said that it was known to his patients and friends as “David’s Special Cocktail” and was guaranteed to really clean you out. I later was to discover it contained glycerin, epsom salts, a little turpentine, as well as a healthy dose of castile soap.
I didn’t have to be told twice to take off my bathrobe and to get up on the bed with my left side towards David Osgood. The white towel was directly under my buttocks and the red rubber sheet under the rest of me felt cool and exciting. I had difficulty disguising my growing erection as David Osgood went through his preparations, and my difficulty became even greater as he emptied the pitcher into the enema can until the suds were softly flowing down the outside. He took the colon tube in his hand and started lubricating its entire length with Vaseline. “Now, draw your knees up to your chest while I get you ready.” Saying this, he took a large amount of lubricant on a rubber-gloved finger and rubbed it around my eager anus. As his finger started to penetrate my rectum, my already throbbing penis gave a great jump. As he was bending over me at this point, I couldn’t avoid his gaze. He smiled
and said, “Most of my male patients get erections during enemas and colonics; it’s very common and you shouldn’t worry about it in the least. Just relax and I’m sure you’ll enjoy everything I’m going to do to you.”
With that, his finger exploring my rectum touched my prostate and I nearly died from excitement. A few moments of prostate massage brought me to the verge of orgasm–something he seemed to sense as he withdrew his finger just in time. “Hold your breath and bear down,” he said softly. I felt the tip of the colon tube against my anus. Gently, but firmly, he pushed it in until it was well into my rectum. Then he released the shut-off clip, and I immediately heard the soft gurgle of the enema flow commencing its journey, and felt the so-familiar warm swelling sensation inside my rectum. He maintained a steady pressure on the invading tube, and it continued its 30-inch voyage up my eagerly waiting bowels. Just as a cramp was starting in my rectum, I felt the tube enter the sigmoid with the feeling that the enema trapped in the distended rectum gushed upwards with it. Then came a series of delicious feelings as the tube worked its way through the flexures and bends of the lower colon.
Before long David announced that the tube was all the way in and that as he was giving me a high enema, he wanted me to take as much fluid as possible. The first really painful cramp occurred just as the enema can emptied with that characteristic gurgle. I was saved by the bell! But no, it was to be otherwise. David asked me to hold the colon tube in place and then he went into the bathroom where I heard water running into a metal container. My worst fears were soon verified when he re-appeared with the white enameled jug freshly re-filled, and a somewhat evil smile on his face. “A good cleaning enema is so important if the colonic is to be successful,” he said. “and you took the first two quarts so well, I’m sure you can tolerate at least another quart.” With that, he poured the contents of the jug into the enema can, filling it with the same soapy solution.
By the time the clip on the red rubber delivery tube was open again, my severe cramps had disappeared. But almost immediately they returned as I felt the pressure of the new enema fluid deep in my bowels. However, this was soon helped by the deep breathing he instructed me to do. He then withdrew the colon tube about two feet and gently but firmly reinserted it in one steady continuous motion. With this exciting upward movement of the tube, I felt all the flexures open up and the trapped fluid move even higher into the upper reaches of my colon. David said, “I think you won’t have any trouble now taking the entire second can full. This is a very high enema and you’ll be surprised by how effective it will be.” However, it wasn’t long before my entire colon was distended with the enema fluid, and I had a great feeling of fullness throughout my abdomen. Each additional ounce had to fight for room. On top of this, the power of the solution was starting to set up contractions from the top of my colon on down. At last I complained I couldn’t take any more. David clamped off the tube and began slowly to caress my fluid laden abdomen. Although my hard-on had subsided during the the enema as the pain was steadily increasing, the closeness of his hand made me hard once again. This development was not lost on him as he quite deliberately (I thought) rubbed his hand against my now-throbbing cock and I felt as if I was going to come right there and then. Of course, with the massage and the sexual stimulation, I had almost forgotten about the pain.
However, I was quickly brought back to reality when the clamp was released again. “I’m going to give you the last quart of water at a higher pressure–that way it’ll all be over quickly.” With that he unhooked the enema can from the irrigating stand and raised it high above his head. I started to writhe on the bed as the pain became excruciating. “Take long deep breaths,” he suggested. “It’ll make it much, much easier.” Just at the point when I was about to scream out, the welcome gurgling sound came from the enema can. “There now, it’s all over…a most excellent enema!” David said, grinning at my obvious relief that the seemingly endless flow had stopped at last.
Out came the colon tube in one swift pull. Then a large cotton wool pad was placed against my leaking anus, and I was free to unload this awful pressure in my overloaded bowels. The weight of the solution made it difficult to get off the bed, so he helped me to stand up and then led me to the toilet in its separate room at the end of the hallway. I collapsed on to the toilet seat just as the contents of my bursting bowels exploded into the bowl. “Don’t flush the toilet. I want to inspect the result,” admonished David. I secretly hoped he would be satisfied, since the thought of another four-quart enema (or maybe more) filled me with dread. Finally, it was all out and I felt quite deflated and empty. The soap and glycerin in the enema solution still was causing cramps, but I was sure they would soon be relieved during the colonic irrigation soon to follow.
When I returned to the treatment room, I found that David Osgood had filled the large glass irrigating tank with clear warm water and was busy attaching the largest colon tube to the three-way connection. It was at least five feet long and about an inch in diameter. I later found out that it was marked “57 French!” Back on the bed on my left side with a fresh towel under my buttocks. I noticed David had put a surgical glove on his right hand and was liberally lubricating the huge tube with a glistening coating of Vaseline. Then he took a large gob from the Vaseline jar and parting my buttocks, he carefully anointed my anus with the lubricant. Then I felt his finger enter me as he started to lubricate my entire anal canal. Deeper went his finger, probing and caressing all the way. “It’s important that your rectum be well-lubricated so it can take the insertion of the large irrigation tube without trouble,” he said as my erection returned at full strength and I could only grunt my enjoyment.
Hardly had his inquisitive finger departed than I felt the blunt end of the big tube being pressed against my awaiting asshole. “Take a deep breath” he cooed and, as I obeyed his instructions, he gave the tube a gently push and I felt the muscles of my anus parting to accommodate the fat rubber intruder. Almost immediately, I felt a great gush of water in my rectum as the inflow tube was opened. With this dilation the tube was able to start its upward progress. A brief halt; the inflow stopped, the outflow opened and I felt instant relief. Inflow again, with the steady pressure of David’s hand on the tube causing it to advance slowly upward as the torrent of solution distended the colon ahead of it. I felt the blunt end of the tube leap forward as it suddenly navigated the sigmoid flexure and entered the descending colon.
“Let me know if the cramps become severe, and I’ll reverse the flow,” said David slowly. The words were hardly out of his mouth before the volume of fluid in my bowels together with the rate they were being distended, gave me a very sharp cramp. “Now,” I said, and the relief was almost instant as he clamped the inflow tube and opened the large bore outflow. A minute of bliss before the intestinal flood started again. The gentle but firm pressure on the tube was resumed and I felt the tube start to move upward again. Inch-by-inch it advanced, occasionally causing sharp little pains as it forced its way around a bend in the colon. Outflow… inflow… outflow… inflow… and so it continued until that huge tube was more than halfway into me. It seemed for a while that my colon was going to resist any further insertion. But the insistent in-and-out pulsing of the irrigating solution together with a gentle to-ing and fro-ing of the tube caused a most exciting sensation. The tight flexure was starting to accommodate the tube and I could feel
the walls of my colon slipping past the blunt end of the tube.
The exciting sensation continued until, quite suddenly, I felt the tube give a little jump and the end was free of the flexure. “That’s
good,” said David. “I felt the irrigating tube move past your splenic flexure. That’s always a difficult place as the colon takes a sharp turn there. Now we should be able to get the tube all the way into the top of your colon where the irrigation will do the most good.” With that, David resumed the upward movement of the tube, adding another gob of lube to the part of the tube that was yet to enter me. In and out went the solution, and ever-upward slid the tube with every few inches producing a new and even more exciting feeling. Sometimes it was a sharp little pain as the colon moved to allow the tube to pass, and sometimes it was a deep and erotic sensation. Finally, David announced that there was only six more inches to go before the tube was fully inserted. At this
point he helped me to turn over onto my back. “This way it will be easier for the tube to pass through the hepatic flexure,” he advised. With the inflow on, he propelled the tube gently onward until I felt a sharp cramp. I cried out, and he immediately opened the outflow. But he kept the pressure on the tube and, as the distention of the colon subsided through the outflow, I felt the walls of my colon grip the tube as the cramp eased and pulled the tip of the tube through the flexure. The last few inches were quite easy as the tube was now in the transverse colon which was quite straight.
With the huge tube fully inserted, David began to irrigate my caecum thoroughly. After about ten minutes of filling and emptying, he announced that the outflow was returning quite clear and that we had reached the final stage of the irrigation. “I’m going to turn on the inflow until the top of your colon is fully distended and then I will slowly withdraw the tube, filling the rest of the colon to capacity as I go, until you have received a very complete enema ‘from the top down’ so to speak. It may be a little painful, but I will massage you when you start to get cramps, and I’m sure you will find it very satisfying.” With that, he clamped the outflow for the last time and opened the connection to the irrigating tank which he had just refilled. Gradually, I felt my caecum fill with the enema fluid. As the flood continued, I felt my stomach and everything in that region being pushed upwards. This pressure had the effect of stimulating my “on-and-off” erection to full “on.”
As my throbbing flesh rose to full size, David astonished me by placing a small amount of Vaseline in the palm of his right hand, and grasping my cock, started to masturbate me. “This will help to take your mind off the fluid as it fully distends your colon, and will release all the tension that has built up since the treatment started.” The combination of feelings of his hand moving on my now-throbbing penis and the ever-deepening bloating of my intestines was really wild. “Now I’ll start the tube on its outward journey,” he said softly. “Try breathing very deeply, and I don’t want you to come until the tube is nearly out.”
As he withdrew the tube, I felt the end slip past the angulations and flexures. Just as I was about to cry out with the pain of a cramp, he would move the tube lower, causing the pressure to ease slightly. All the while he kept up a steady massage of my penis, until I warned him I was about to come. By the time the end of the tube had descended to my rectum, I had almost reached the ultimate limit of my tolerance. My abdomen was tremendously distended with the enema solution and the pressure upon my stomach was causing a feeling of nausea. I glanced up at the irrigating container and saw, to my relief, that there were only
a few cupfuls left to go into me. David followed my gaze and purred,. “There now, it’s just about over; there’s only an ounce or two to go. Take a very deep breath and we’ll get the last little bit into you.” With that, he started pumping my penis vigorously and simultaneously moved the end of the colon tube in and out, causing it to massage my throbbing prostate. The mixture of exciting feelings that began building up to a crescendo was a totally new experience for me. The awful pressure in my intestines, the colon tube working in my rectum, and David’s hand manipulating my throbbing cock soon produced an orgasm the power and duration of which I had never experienced before! I literally saw stars!
As the last shuddering spasm of my cock produced a final spurt of semen onto my swollen stomach, David reached down and opened the outflow valve on the enema tube. The relief was immediately felt throughout my bowels as jet after jet of the trapped solution found escape through the end of the colon tube resting in my rectum. Before long, most of the fluid had found its way out and the tube was removed. David helped me off the treatment couch onto my shaky legs, wrapped me in a dressing gown, and propelled me down the corridor to the toilet room where I sank down gratefully to rid myself of the last remnants of the enema and deep irrigation.
Feeling somewhat weak and empty (but very relaxed), I made my way back to the treatment room where I got dressed and made ready for the long walk to my hotel. The doorbell rang, and I heard David talking to a very pleasant-sounding Englishman. He returned to me briefly, and I settled my account with him, making certain to arrange another appointment for a similar treatment. “I would ask you to stay for a nice cup of tea, but the young gentleman who just arrived is badly in need of an irrigation.” With that he ushered me down the hall past the small waiting room to the door. But before the door had closed on me, I had caught a good glimpse of a very handsome and slender man in his early 20’s dressed in the grey/black pin-stripe of the British businessman.
The air outside was cool and fresh. I had a new spring to my step as I set out on my homeward journey. My thoughts were full of my recent experience; David Osgood; the enema; the irrigation; the final distention; the orgasm; the handsome young man. The realization that I wasn’t all alone in my dedication to the joys of the enema was a marvelous revelation! I had always hoped there were others but, until today, I had no way of knowing. What joy! There were others who were addicted to the enema, possibly many others, including that handsome young man! Then my thoughts became full of the anticipation of my next appointment with David Osgood and the questions I wanted to ask him.
Then, to my surprise, I suddenly found myself on the doorstep of my hotel.