My story is not unlike many others told here. I started getting enemas as a young child. My mom would give me and my brother enemas for various illnesses. I could remember mom getting the bag out and telling us to go lay on the floor in the bathroom. I never put up a fuss, but my brother would be kicking and screaming as my mom would carry him into the bathroom. I can remember hiding near the bathroom to hear my brother get his cleaning and hoping to sneak a peak.
It was during my pre-teens that I discovered the “red bag” in the bathroom. I didn’t do anything the first time. I just looked at it. A few weeks later my parents and brother were not home. I decided I would give myself an enema. It was after my first attempt I learned to let the air out of the tube. I didn’t take much water and I made a big mess. I put the bag away and vowed never to touch it again.
A few weeks later I found myself home alone again. I decided to give that bag another try. I was more careful this time. I got more towels and got the air out of the tube. I hung the bag on the towel hook and laid on the floor. I greased the tip and put it inside me. A deep breath and I undid the clip. The cold water rushed inside me (at the time I didn’t know temperature made a difference). As the first waves of cramps hit me I shut the clip and raced to the toilet. My second try was not as bad as my first but I was still discouraged.
A few months later I became ill and mom thought an enema would help me feel better. I tried not to look too excited, which was easy because I was sick. Mom got everything ready and called me into the bathroom. I laid on the floor and she put the tip in. The warm water flowed easily into me. I looked up at my mom and she gently rubbed my belly. I figured now would be a good time to learn about enemas. I asked my mom why she hung the bag on the doorknob and not the towel hook and why warm water and not cold. She answered all my questions and then asked me if I ever tried to give myself enemas. Being the good kid I am, I answered no. By the time we were done talking, my enema was over. Mom was right, I did feel better.
With all this new information I couldn’t wait to be home alone again. I thought about trying it out while everyone else was watching TV, but I figured I would get caught. So, I waited.
A few months passed and mom announced that she and my father were going out for the day and my brother wouldn’t be home either. She didn’t want to leave me home alone for a whole day. Boy, did I do my best to convince her that I would be fine. She figured it would be OK. It took forever for Saturday to arrive. The big day came and I watched my family leave. I waited at least a half an hour to make sure they didn’t return. I put my plan into action.
I gathered all my equipment and locked myself into the bathroom. I got undressed and spread the towels on the floor. I filled up the bag with warm water and hung it on the doorknob. I greased the tube and inserted it slowly. I took a deep breath and undid the clip. I felt the warm rush of water. I closed my eyes and enjoyed my first solo “E” experience. As I started to feel full, I rolled around like my mom made me. I heard a gurgling sound come from the bag. I never heard that noise before and thought I had done something wrong. I noticed the bag was empty. I didn’t feel full but since the bag was empty, I took the tip out and went to the bathroom.
When I felt empty I decided to try again but I wanted to take more than a bagful. I found a large glass pitcher. So I filled the bag and the pitcher and assumed the position on the floor and inserted the tip. I undid the clip and enjoyed the warm sensations. When I heard the gurgling sound, I filled the bag up again and took about another half of a bag. I never felt so full before and tried to hold it as long as I could. When I finally allowed myself to release the water I felt so warm. I think that was my first orgasm. I don’t know how many enemas I took that day, but I remember it as being one of the best days I had that summer. Any day that I was alone, I got the bag out and gave myself as many enemas as I could.
When I moved out, I forgot about enemas for awhile. One day when I was in the drug store I saw a shelf with enema syringes and hot water bottles. It brought back a flood of memories. Soon I found myself on the bathroom floor enjoying enemas once again. I found it a nuisance to have to re-fill the bag half way through my session. So I came up with a better way. A few trips to the hardware store and I had improvised a way to get an enema non-stop. I rigged an open top bag to the shower head, added some extra tubing, and I had my non-stop enema. All I did was turn the shower on low. It kept the bag full and let myself fill as much as I wanted without stopping. I had a lot of fun with that set-up.
I got married a few years ago and thought my “E” days were over. It took a lot of patience but my spouse is starting to tolerate some “E” play every once in awhile. I still have to do the asking but maybe someday my dream will come true and I will have another story to write.