Wet Confessions

The voice on the answering machine was stern and crisp. “Teresa, you’ve been very naughty and you will be spanked soundly when I get home, so dress accordingly.” Then a pause. “I also want you to tell me your darkest sexual secret.”

That was it, no goodbye, no other instructions. I was used to playing the naughty wife, but the confession part was a new and unexpected twist. I wonder if my husband had any idea what he was getting into.

I have been into enemas for as long as I can remember. My parents were firm believers in their usefulness for both medicinal and disciplinary purposes and I guess the attraction had just stuck. I used to sneak into my parent’s bathroom and play with the big metal canister and the black, hard nozzles whenever they went out.

As an adult, I had many lovers and relationships, but I never told any of them about my watery little quirk. Now my husband was asking me, no, ORDERING me, to tell him about it. I suppose I could make something up, like telling him I wanted to have sex on a commuter bus, but the fact remained that I had only one true sexual secret and a hot, soapy enema was it.

I had often fantasized about him coming home unexpectedly and catching me giving myself a lavage, but I never thought he would be making me tell him while I was bent naked and vulnerable over his knee, getting my ass warmed.

My mind was racing. I knew I couldn’t lie to him, but I had no idea how he would react. We had experimented quite a bit before we were married and we had discovered a mutual fondness for spanking and domination games, but this was something else again.

Maybe he would think that enemas were disgusting, or weird, or maybe he had never heard of them. I didn’t know, it was something we had never talked about.

I glanced up at the clock, it was getting late and I knew that Tom expected me to be ready for him. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I headed for the bathroom, stopping only to retrieve my enema set from it’s hiding place in the hall closet.

Once in the bathroom, I set the wine glass down near the tub and began to draw my bath. When the water was the right temperature, I made sure the hose clamp was tight and then filled the bag from the fragrant, soapy water. I couldn’t help smiling to myself, same temperature inside as out.

I hung the steaming bag from the shower rod and as an after thought, I added the glass of wine to the mixture, watching as it foamed.

The nozzle I had chosen was the larger douche nozzle, and as I dipped my finger into the lubricant and smoothed it over the ridged surface, I couldn’t help but speculate on what my husband’s reaction would be when I told him.

I tried to imagine him standing there in the bathroom, preparing my enema while I waited, my pussy dripping with excitement.

It was time to begin. I spread a large towel on the floor and after removing my robe, got down on my hands and knees. Kneeling there on the bathroom floor, I felt eight years old again. It’s almost as if it wasn’t my hand spreading my ass cheeks apart or greasing up my rectum with a fingerful of cool jelly. It was always like this, a flashback to childhood. The nozzle suddenly seemed bigger and thicker and the bulging bag seemed enormous.

The nozzle slipped in easily, filling me up even before the water was turned on. I reached up and released the clamp, feeling the rush of anticipation mixed with a touch of fear and a jolt of sexual energy.

I began to feel the water as it raced through the tubing and into my body. The pressure was beginning to build, but there were no cramps yet, just the hot liquid creeping deeper and deeper inside of me.

I held the nozzle with one hand and with the other I realized that I had been slowly stroking my pussy lips, which were swollen and wet with the attention. Maybe I should suggest that Tom watch me take an enema, then he could see first hand how hot they make me.

The bag was done in no time. I slid the nozzle out slowly, trying to keep the water from escaping. The urge to release was becoming intense, but I wanted to hold it for as long as possible to get the full benefit of the cleansing action. I tried to busy myself cleaning and putting away the equipment, but I barely got the bag back into it’s hiding place before bolting for the toilet.

Realizing how late it had gotten, I finished up in the bathroom in record time, savoring the feeling of being completely clean, inside and out. Quickly I dressed as I had been told, in my shortest nightgown and sheerest panties. Taking a final look in the mirror, I heard my husband’s key in the door and rushed to greet him.

He glanced at me as he hung up his coat. “I see you’ve done as you were told for once. Now go and get me a drink, I’ve had a long day.”

He was in the bedroom changing out of his suit and tie when I returned with his beer. Fixing me with a harsh glare he said, “I see I have one more job to perform before I can relax for the evening. You’ve been exceptionally naughty this week and you need to be punished.”

He took me by the arm and propelled me towards the bed. “I want you to lean over the bed, right now. That’s it. Stick your little behind way out so I can have easy access to it.”

I started to plead with him. “Please don’t punish me, I promise that I’ll be good from now on.”

“I know, you always promise and then you always wind up bent over for me, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, please don’t…”

“It occurred to me today that there must be something you’re not telling me, some secret that makes you behave so badly. I want you to tell me all about that dirty little secret.”

He had continued to undress as he talked and was now standing in front of me clad only in his briefs, which did little to contain the sizable erection that was poking out over the top.

“Teresa, I want an answer right now, or I’ll beat your ass purple.”

He walked behind me and I could feel his hand sliding under my panties. In one swift motion I felt them being pulled down, landing in a pile around my ankles. I was completely open and vulnerable to him, my pussy and ass exposed. I tensed, expecting him to begin spanking me as he had threatened.

“Once more Teresa, I want you to tell me…”

Suddenly the words began to fall out of my mouth. “An enema,” I whispered.


I swallowed hard and said it a little louder. “An enema, I take one almost every day and it makes me very horny.”

He still looked somewhat shocked.

“Look, I’m sorry I even brought it up. Why don’t we just forget about it and continue our game?”

“I don’t want to forget it. When I was a child my mother made me take an enema every weekend. She said it would keep me from getting pimples. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be on the giving end of the nozzle for a change. I guess now I’ll be able to find out.”

“Well missy,” he said, snapping back into character, “if an enema makes you happy you should be screaming with pleasure when I get through with you this evening.”

“The first thing I’m going to do is take you over my knee and make you tell me where you’ve been hiding your little bag all this time. Then we’re going to take a little walk into the bathroom where you’re going to bend over for me…and my nozzle.”

With that he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me over his lap. I could feel his erection underneath me as he positioned me at the proper angle. His hand began to descend on my bare cheeks as he questioned me closely about my fetish. How often do you take them? Where do you hide the bag? How much do you take at once? What do you fantasize about while you’re taking them?

Finally he ran out of questions. “I’m going to give you ten more spanks, which you’re going to count out loud for me, and then we’ll take that walk.”

I barely noticed the last ten swats. All I could think about was taking my quarts in front of my husband. It had been at least twenty years since someone else had given me an enema. This time I wouldn’t just be fantasizing, there really would be someone else’s hand between my ass cheeks.

He finished spanking me with a resounding slap. Lifting me gently off his lap, he led me down the hall, his erection pointing the way. We stopped at the closet and I dug out my bag for the second time that day. “So that’s where you’ve hiding your little friend. I should continue your spanking in the bathroom for keeping something like that from me.”

I handed the apparatus over to him as we reached our destination. “I want you to go in and stand in front of the toilet. Now spread your legs and bend over so that your hands are flat on the closed lid. That’s the way I used to have to wait while my mother set everything up. She would make me stand there naked for what seemed like hours, and she never closed the door, so anyone walking by could look in and see what was happening.”

He remembered the routine fairly well, the soapy water, very warm, burping the air out of the hose and lubing the nozzle generously. After hanging the bag securely from the shower rod, he turned back to me. “Now I want you to reach back and hold your cheeks apart for me so I can grease up that little hole of yours.”

I bent way over and spread wide, feeling his large fingers invading my rectum. The jelly was cold, but he worked it inside of me, rubbing slowly and deeply, one finger, then two, stretching me, just like he did before he butt-fucked me. That was when it dawned on me what he had in mind. I looked back over my shoulder and I could see him smiling at me.

“You looked so great in that position, I couldn’t help thinking that a nice big meat plug would help you hold onto that enema. What do you say?”

He was giving me the chance to say no if I wanted to, but the idea was irresistible, combining my enema with anal sex. Instead of answering directly I stayed in character and said, “Please, no, I promise, I’ll be good. I don’t need an enema….really. Watch, I can go to the bathroom all by myself now.”

He grinned and followed along. “No. You’ll take this right now or I’ll get the belt out and give you a whipping. That’s better. I’m going to stick the nozzle in now. It’ll be cold, but the water will warm it up in just a minute.”

I could feel his fingers being replaced by the hard, thick, jelly-covered plastic. He slid it in deeply and gave it a few deft twists to seat it properly.

“I’m going to turn the water on now.” I heard the metallic click. “There. Can you feel it yet?”

“Yes,” I gasped as the hot water sprayed up inside of me. “I can feel it, it’s too hot and it’s coming out too fast. Please make it stop, it’s too much, I can’t take it.”

“Stop whining, you’re going to stand there and take all your enema. This is a punishment and it’s supposed to be uncomfortable. Hopefully it will remind you to be good from now on. See that, half the bag is gone all ready. Just be a good girl and take some deep breaths, that will help with the cramps.”

The bag went flat, giving a final gurgle as the last of the solution rushed down the tubing. “Ok, let me set the clamp. Now I want you to hold your enema for at least ten minutes so you’ll get a good cleaning out.”

“But I can’t hold it that long.”

“Well, I’ll just have to help you then. Reach forward for me and spread your legs again, I’m going to take the nozzle out.”

I could feel him skillfully withdrawing the plastic pipe, making sure none of the trapped water escaped. While I had been occupied with the enema, Tom had removed his briefs and covered his entire cock with lubricant. I could see it glistening as he stepped in close behind me. I felt him pushing into me, dividing my still red ass cheeks and coming to rest at my tightly clenched rear opening.

I loved it when he butt-fucked me. I wanted to open myself to him, but I knew that the enema I was holding would make that impossible. Grabbing my hips, he thrust forward deeply, forcing his way inside. “Teresa, this is fantastic, I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s like being caught in a Jacuzzi.”

“Between your cock and the enema, I can’t believe how full I feel. Oh, Tom, I can’t take this anymore, finger my pussy for me.”

I felt his hand sliding down my water swollen belly to my sopping pussy and rock hard clit. I began to pump up and down on his hand while he moved rhythmically in my ass. In minutes we were both coming, our cries echoing off the tile walls.

I wanted to collapse, but the enema, and the extra liquid my husband had just added to it, demanded release. I tried to move but I found that I was still firmly skewered on my husband’s cock.

“Please honey, let me go now, I really can’t hold it anymore.”

“Only on one condition.”

“Anything,” I groaned.

“That after you finish, you take a look at my back, I think I’m beginning to get a pimple.”