Remembering Your First

By Anonymous

It is interesting to note the similarities in the many stories we hear about First Time experiences. There is no question in my mind that most of the experiences we hear about are true, although some I think are fantasized (wish it happened that way).

Most noteworthy is the secret attachment each of us gets to the equipment. In my collection of ‘First Times’, everyone, after being given the enemas, hold the experience as rather reverent, something very personal occurred and they have a keen desire to identify with it. Example – almost all cases tell of the recipients’ wanting to look at what it was that invaded their posteriors. Wanting to see it up close yet on the other hand, being slightly in awe of it. It doesn’t help matters when usually the apparatus is secreted away in some hiding place, not to be touched only on special occasions. Such are the stories of children searching their bathrooms and mother’s bedrooms for the invaders.

When the holy of all holies is finally discovered, a fear sets in that they might get caught examining the sacred appliance. Just passing by the hiding place creates a sort of Mystic. You know in your own mind what lies in there, and what it is capable of doing. You can’t take your mind off it, until you finally get up enough nerve to take the next step. Take it out of its hiding place and have a closer look. Holding it in your hands and examining the nozzle usually creates a deep stirring feeling in a small boy’s loins. There is a decided reluctance to put it back. Everyone takes the nozzle and pretends to stick it where it is intended to go. So enough for this time, someone may come and find out what I’m doing.

The next several times are just as exciting and starts the heart pumping double time. My parents are going to be out for awhile and it becomes necessary to go to the next step. Into the bathroom and so it goes. One story I have is of the ten year old who just naturally liked to snoop around, found the sacred equipment and being naturally inquisitive, asked his father what it was for. His father was most obliging and told him what it was for and said he would show him how it worked. The boy announced he was satisfied with the explanation his father put forth, however his father was already filling the bag. The boy had lost all interest in what was going on until his father told him to remove his pants and undershorts. He was stretched across his father’s lap and the enema administered. The boy instead of learning a lesson not to be too inquisitive, made a point of giving himself the treatment whenever the occasion arose.

Every story seems to hold the same theme, and we all are hooked, as it were. Then comes experimentation. The more complicated the procedure the better. Nozzle size, volume consumed, position used, having someone give it to you, giving it to others in particular, new recruits, encouraging others of the merit of internal sanitation.

So the Mystic is definitely there. The close relationship is developed because of our total fascination with experiencing invasion. We do anything and everything to come in contact with the invader who alone in the entire world knows what lies within. Very interesting. I am busy collecting ‘First Time Stories’, which usually occur while a child and at the hands of a mother. Oh what memories we have if we just delve deep enough, but for some of us, just the surface will do.