Al's Duplex

by "D"

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This story includes situations of an adult nature that 
may not be appropriate for all readers. This story is fiction, and all 
activities, incidents and behaviors depicted herein are intended solely for the 
enjoyment of the reader. Nothing represented herein shall be construed as an 
endorsement or recommendation for any practices or behaviors depicted. Do NOT 
try any of this at home. 

All characters are fictional and any resemblence to real-life personages is 
coincidence and strictly in the mind of the beholder. 

 

Synopsis: This is an enema fetish story that explores enemas as an adjunct to 
foreplay and sex itself. Ethan took an opportunity to retire early at 55 and 
move into one half of a duplex he inherited from his uncle Al. Lize is his 28-
year-old tenant. Both discover a mutual interest in enemas that blossoms first 
into friendship and then into a sexual relationship. The story is explicit and 
contains mild BDSM elements. 

 

Part I

I sat behind the controls of the 1995 Oldsmobile 88, a road map unfolded on the 
passenger side and watching the numbers on doors and mailboxes increment as I 
drove down the block. Then I saw it -- a brick duplex with 375A over one door 
and 375B over the other. Pulling into the drive I parked the car and headed 
toward the stoop. 

The key I had been given fitted the deadbolt for 375Aand I swung open the front 
door. The place was cluttered with stacks of newspapers and magazines on the 
floor. The kitchen sink was piled with dirty dishes and pots and pans. Upstairs 
I found more stacks of newspapers and magazines. 

Shaking my head I headed down the stairs. The doorbell rang and I answered it. 
Standing on the stoop was a young woman, tall and slender. Her long, 
rectangular face was framed by shoulder-length soft dark blonde curls. Her eyes 
were blue with a hint of Asian influence, her nose was long and straight. She 
had a high forehead and her lips were full. She was wearing a tank top and 
cutoff shorts. I scanned her from head to toe. 

At the same moment she stepped back from me and let out a gasp. "I ... I was 
expecting to see Al. I saw his car pull in." 

"I'm Ethan Moore -- Al's nephew. Al, I'm afraid, has passed away." The color 
drained from her face and she put her hand to her chest. "Do you need to sit 
down?" I stepped aside and she staggered into the unit, collapsed into a chair 
and held her face in her palms. "Are you all right? I'll get some water." 

When I returned with a glass she was sitting erect in the chair. "I'm sorry to 
give you such a shock," I said. 

"Al ... gone? How? When? He was here just two weeks ago." 

"He went to a funeral..." 

"That's right -- I remember him telling me." 

"At a reception he became engaged in an argument with a relative -- an in-law. 
He became too agitated..." 

"Heart attack?" she asked. 

"A fatal arrhythmia," I replied. "They tried to help him but..." She looked 
down and shook her head. "I'm here to wrap up his estate. Al didn't leave a 
will ... not one we can locate at any rate." 

"My word," she gasped. "I hadn't thought about that. Al was my friend and 
neighbor but also my landlord. What's going to happen to this place?" 

"That'll be up to the probate judge," I replied, "and, ultimately, the new 
owner. I'm his only surviving blood relative so the odds are it'll end up 
coming to me. We'll have to wait for the legal dust to settle. Do you have a 
lease?" 

"Yeah... It runs through February." 

"Well -- a new owner would be obligated to honor that at least 'til it runs 
out." 

"The reason I came over," she added, "was to invite Al to dinner. When I saw 
his car in the drive I put a frozen lasagna in the oven. I'm wondering if you'd 
accept the invitation -- in his honor.." 

"I'd be happy to..." I looked into her blue eyes. "I didn't catch your name." 

"Lize. Lize Furlow." 

"As in an extended leave of absence?" I asked. 

"It's spelled O - W, not O - U - G - H." 

"Okay Lize. What time?" 

"Say, six?" 

"Can I bring something? A bottle of wine or some beer?" 

"Oh, I can't drink," she replied. "Alcohol gives me a pain in my stomach." 

"What sort of pain?" 

"Burning ... hard to describe but downright awful. I'd have to lie down until 
it passes." 

"How long does that take?" I asked. 

"Half an hour ... forty-five minutes or so." 

"That does sound unpleasant. So, I'll see you at six." 

"I ... I'll be ... right next door." Lize stood and smiled pleasantly. She gave 
me a little wave and headed out the door. 

I returned to my task at hand, which was to start clearing out Al's unit. From 
the looks of it I'd have to hire a three-yard dumpster and start hauling stuff 
to it. I figured I'd start at the top. One of the bedrooms he had used as an 
office. I figured that would be a good place to start, and with some luck I 
might even uncover some ledgers or bank statements that would give me a handle 
on what he had left behind. 

 

I rang the bell on the unit next door. Lize answered it and smiled. The color 
had returned to her complexion with pink, apple cheeks. "Come in," she said. 

"You're looking better," I remarked. "Earlier you were as pale as a ghost." 

"It was quite a shock to get over." 

"I was going through Al's papers and found something you might find 
interesting." I handed her an envelope. 

She opened it and removed some pages on legal-sized paper. "Al's will..." 

"Right ... dated 2012 and duly signed, witnessed and notarized. I think it's 
unlikely anyone can provide one to supercede it." 

She read through the pages. "He ... he left everything to you." 

"Not quite everything. There are some items enumerated toward the bottom." 

"His first editions... He knew I admired them." 

"He wanted you to have them," I replied. "There's a first edition Tom Sawyer 
among them -- that alone is probably worth five figures. I never knew he 
collected first editions." 

"I'm flabbergasted," she said. 

"So am I," I replied. 

"What, that he'd leave them to me?" 

"No -- that he left everything else to me." I took the papers from her and 
stuffed them back into the envelope. "Al wasn't on anyone's favorites list. We 
all regarded him as an ornery, disagreeable, argumentative curmudgeon. I hadn't 
had any contact with him for ... for twenty years." 

"He was nothing but sweet with me," Lize replied. "I'd have him over for 
dinner. When I started falling out with Jimmy..." 

"Who's Jimmy?" 

"My boyfriend ... ex-boyfriend. I caught him cheating on me. I found pictures 
and texts on his phone." 

"He must have been crazy to cheat on you," I remarked. 

"Well, he did and I threw him out." 

"Good riddance to bad rubbish." 

"That wasn't the end of it. He started harassing me ... threatening me. I was 
afraid to be alone at night and Al let me sleep on his sofa." I could see 
agitation in her expression. "One day he was waiting for me when I got home 
from work. He accosted me and got physical. Al heard the commotion and broke it 
up. He called the cops and Jimmy spent some time in jail. I have a restraining 
order against him." 

"I'm sorry to hear about that," I replied. "It's over, now." 

She drew in a breath to regain her composure. "Al was more than a neighbor and 
a landlord to me. He was a friend ... almost like my grandfather. He always was 
a perfect gentleman. That's why I was so shocked with your news ... I still 
can't believe it." The buzzer on her oven sounded. "Dinner's ready. "I have 
Coke and ginger ale." 

"Either is fine with me." 

"I made a salad. Is Italian dressing okay?" 

"Italian is fine." 

We sat across from each other at her kitchen table. Lize's unit was the mirror 
image of the other, but she kept her place as neat as a pin and with sparse 
furnishings. "This is very good," I remarked of her lasagna. 

"Thanks." She gestured toward the envelope. "What exactly does that mean?" she 
asked. 

"It means probate will go more smoothly. There are some relatives who might 
want to try disputing it ... but they'll have trouble arguing with this 
document." 

"That means, this property will come to you, then." 

"Almost certainly." 

"What do you plan to do with it?" she asked. 

"I'm thinking I might want to move in. This all happened during a life change 
for me." 

"What sort of change?" she asked. 

"I'm retired." 

"Retired?" she said credulously. "You don't look that old." 

"I'm fifty-five," I replied, "I was eligible for retirement from the force...." 

"Force?" 

"County sheriff ... I'm a detective ... was a detective. After twenty years I 
can retire with a full pension. I decided to take advantage. They let me keep 
my shield." 

"May I see it?" she asked. I reached for my wallet and flipped it open. Lize's 
eyes grew wide." Wow..." 

"It's gotten me out of a few speeding tickets." I slipped my wallet back into 
my pocket. "My divorce was finalized two years ago. I've been renting a 
townhouse, and I've been devoting my time to a small web-based business." 

"You're starting Act Two," she remarked. 

"Actually, Act Three. Being a sheriff's deputy was Act Two." 

"What was Act One?" Lize asked. 

"I wanted to be a doctor ... but I washed out of medical school in my second 
year. I ended up getting my R.N. and worked as a nurse for about ten years. We 
had a suspicious death in the hospital and I ended up testifying as an expert 
witness. I became interested in forensic medicine. It so happened that the 
sheriff at the time was a buddy of my dad. I enrolled in a law enforcement 
training program, met the requirements and was made a deputy. Sheriff assigned 
me to the county's forensics lab and I spent most of my career there working 
there. I made sergeant and eventually got promoted to detective." 

"That's so interesting, Ethan," Lize remarked. 

"Now I can retire at fifty-five with a decent pension and dedicate my time to 
my web business. This duplex would suit me perfectly. I could use the basement 
to store my inventory and one of the bedrooms as an office." 

"What sort of business is that?" she asked. 

"Alternative health products," I replied. 

"Things like supplements and the like?" 

"Yeah, supplements ... supplies and the like." I drained my glass of ginger 
ale. "What do you do for a living?" 

"I'm still in Act One," she replied. "I work as a bank teller. I have a 
business degree in marketing but the only work I could find was as a teller. 
Now I'm head teller at my branch." 

"Good for you." 

"I've been there five years." 

"What are you, then? Twenty-five?" 

"I'm twenty-eight," she replied. 

"I thought you looked younger." She gave me her pleasant smile. "Head teller is 
nothing to sneeze at." 

"The bank has posted an opening for branch manager at another branch -- one 
that's actually closer to home. I've applied and I have an interview next 
week." 

"Well -- good luck." 

"Thanks. I'll need it." 

I picked up my plate and carried it to her counter. "Thanks, Lize, for a 
delicious dinner," I said. 

"You're very welcome. Ethan -- if you need help going through Al's stuff..." 

"I may take you up on that. The basement is full of shelves groaning with 
canned goods. I have to believe most are way past their sell-by date." 

"I think Al was a bit of a hoarder," she remarked. 

"Ya think?" Lize escorted me across the stoop to my door and gave me a little 
wave. 

 

I backed a U-Haul truck into the drive. Lize greeted me wearing a tank and 
running shorts. "How did the estate sale go?" I asked. 

"I haven't seen the final figures yet ... and the agents will need to take 
their cut. The dumpster got hauled away yesterday." 

"You have those first editions in a safe place?" 

"Yes, I have them stashed." 

"At some point you need to get them appraised and insured. I really do 
appreciate you taking care of things while I settled my affairs. You've 
certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty. I should give you a break on 
this month's rent." 

"Well... That is something I had wanted to talk to Al about. I was hoping I 
could convince him to give me a break in the rent ... now that I'm here alone." 

"So with your boyfriend gone, you're having trouble making ends meet." 

"I guess you could say that," she replied. "The lease is in my name -- Jimmy's 
credit record was too poor." 

"That figures. How much are you paying?" 

"Twelve hundred a month ... that includes heat and water." 

"You could be telling me anything," I replied. 

"That's the truth," Lize protested. 

"I believe you. Remember -- I'm a retired detective. I know how to read people. 
How much can you afford?" 

"Any break at all would be welcome," she replied. "I was thinking..." She bit 
her lip. " ...seven hundred?" 

"Can you do eight?" 

"I know it's a nice unit but ... how about seven-fifty?" 

"You drive a hard bargain," I remarked. 

"The worst thing about kicking Jimmy out ... I hate being alone." 

"You're not thinking about taking the bastard back -- are you?" 

"Oh, no -- we're done ... finished. Al told me he never liked the guy and I was 
better off without him ... and I agree. I just don't like being alone at night. 
I was happy knowing Al was next door ... and I'm happy knowing you'll be next 
door, Ethan. I'll sleep better." 

I rolled up the tambour door of the truck. "This truck isn't going to unload 
itself," I remarked and picked up a carton. 

Lize followed me into the unit and down stairs to the basement. "These shelves 
will be handy for storing my inventory," I said. 

"They're where Al kept his canned goods. I think I threw out stuff that had 
expired eight years ago... Where do you want this? 

"Anywhere. I'll figure out a system later." 

Lize slid a carton onto a shelf and we both headed back to the truck for 
another load. "You sell this stuff?" she asked. 

"Indeed I do." 

"You said you sold alternative health supplies. What sort of supplies?" 

"I specialize in products for colon health," I said. 

"Do you mean like fiber supplements and the like?" 

"Among others. Hey -- I have an idea. I've been wanting to update my website 
and take some fresh photos of the merchandise. Maybe you'd like to help me." 

"Help you, how? I don't know anything about photography." 

"You're a pretty girl, Lize. I was thinking you could model them." 

"Model them?" 

"Hold them up so I can photograph them." 

"I get it -- sex sells. We learned all about it in marketing class." 

"I'm not looking for sexy, " I replied. "I'm looking for a sweet, wholesome 
girl-next-door who can model some product. You fit the bill perfectly -- with 
your peaches-and-cream complexion and natural blonde hair." 

"What makes you think I'm a natural blonde?" 

"Your hair color matches your eyebrows and lashes," I replied, "and your eyes 
and skin match, too. You don't wear eye makeup." 

"My eyes are shaped funny -- I never could figure out how to apply it," she 
replied. 

"You have a healthy, wholesome look," I said. 

"I've never done anything like that before." 

"So? I can credit your time against your rent." 

"Hmm... Okay -- I'll give it a try. But -- I reserve the right of final 
approval." 

 

The doorbell rang and I answered it. Lize stepped in wearing a short-sleeved, 
lavender dress and sandals. She was wearing her curly, blond hair in a 
ponytail. "Is this suitable?" she asked. 

"Perfect. I have things set up in the living room. I thought we'd start with 
some new products I'm adding to my line." 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"Just hold the product." I led her to a spot near the living room window over 
which I had drawn the drapes. On a tripod was my digital SLR camera. On either 
side were some flood lamps. 

"That's quite a camera," Lize remarked. 

"Yeah -- I dabbled in photography for a while. This has a nice lens but not the 
resolution of the new ones. It suits my purposes, though." I handed her a large 
container of psyllum husk. "Let's start with this." 

I snapped photographs as Lize regarded the product, held it up and smiled. 
"Good," I said and handed her a pint sized plastic bottle containing a clear 
fluid. 

"What's this?" she asked and read the label. "Vegetable glycerin?" 

"That's right." 

"It says it's for skin and hair care." 

"It's also food grade," I remarked. "Some folks use it as a sugar substitute." 
Lize held up the bottle and I snapped the photograph; then I handed her another 
jar. 

"Powdered neem leaf?" she asked as she read the label. 

"Yes -- it's a natural antimicrobial." I snapped one of her holding the jar. 
"One or two more," I remarked. 

We finished the photo session and I switched off the floods. "I've been wanting 
to go to The Reef for dinner," I said. "I've heard great things about it. Care 
to tag along?" 

"I'd love to," she replied. "Is what I'm wearing suitable?" 

"What you are wearing is perfect." 

 

I sat in my study working on my website layout. I saw Lize's bright blue Ford 
Focus pull into the driveway. She parked it in the garage on the side assigned 
to her unit. I heard my doorbell ring. "It's open," I shouted. 

Lize stepped in wearing her bank teller's uniform -- black slacks and white 
blouse. "I'm beat," she announced. "I've been on my feet all day. One of the 
tellers called in sick so I had to bounce between the drive-through and one of 
the counter positions." 

"Maybe we should call for takeout for dinner," I suggested. "How about 
something from Ling's? They deliver." 

"Tonight, anything I don't have to prepare sounds wonderful." 

"I'll show you the photos I picked from the other night." 

"I'm going to go change out of these clothes." 

I took a folded sheet from a folder. "Look this over." 

"Ling's menu ... char sue ding -- it's my favorite. I think I'll have that." 

"I'll call in the order while you're changing." 

Lize returned wearing shorts and a blouse. She sat before my laptop and flipped 
through the photos while I looked over her shoulder. "I guess these are all 
right," she remarked. 

"All right? They're terrific, Lize. You really project personality in these 
shots. I think you must be a natural actress." 

"If you say so." 

"You don't seem yourself tonight." 

"I'm tired." 

"There must be more to it than that," I replied. 

She sighed. "I was offered a promotion today -- to branch manager." 

"Congratulations. That doesn't sound like something to be down about." 

"I don't know if I'm cut out to be a manager," she replied. "It's one of those 
careful-what-you-whish-fors" 

"Right. You might get it. I'm sure you'll do fine. If the bank is convinced of 
you; I am, too." 

"Thanks. You're sweet, Ethan, On top of that, in two weeks I have to fly to 
Minneapolis for a management training course. I'm dreading it." 

"You're dreading a management course?" I asked. 

"I don't travel well, Ethan. I hate flying, I hate living out of a suitcase and 
I hate spending nights in hotels ... in an unfamiliar bed with all those funny 
smells and noises. When I was a girl I suffered from night terrors. I grew out 
of them; but when I'm in a hotel, at least one night I'll wake up with a start 
in an absolute panic. My heart will be racing and I'll be shaking... It might 
be some light from a streetlamps filtering in or the red light on the smoke 
alarm ... or a noise that startles me." She regarded me. "Will you be around? 
Maybe you can water my plants while I'm away." 

"Of course, Lize. Just give me some directions. I'll pick up your mail, too." 

"I'm really happy you decided to move in, Ethan. You're a good friend and it's 
a comfort knowing someone next door. You remind me in ways of Al ... of how Al 
must've been when he was younger. It's like part of him lives on in you, Ethan. 
I do miss him, though." 

"You must've been fond of him." 

"I was. I don't make friends easily." 

"I find that hard to believe," I replied. "A pretty girl like you..." 

"I'm rather shy around men ... men my age, that is. I'm more comfortable with 
someone older ... someone like Al ... or you. I feel at ease when I'm with 
you." She placed her hand on mine and squeezed it. I looked into her blue eyes 
and she smiled one of her pleasant smiles. 

The doorbell rang . I figured it was delivery from Lings and I returned with a 
paper bag containing white, carry-out boxes. "Char sue ding, I said and set one 
on the table. "Here's mine -- kung pao tofu. Have some rice." 

Lize pressed her hand against her abdomen. "Mmm... This hits the spot, Ethan. I 
was hungry. I had to skip lunch, today was so crazy. Hunger doesn't help my 
mood any." 

"Maybe after dinner you'll look over my website and give me some marketing 
feedback." 

"Sure, Ethan. I'd be happy to." 

Lize sat in my study looking over my website. "When you said your business was 
colon health, I didn't think you meant enemas," she remarked. "I mean ... I'm 
not sure what I thought but I didn't expect all this ... strange equipment." 

"What's your opinion from a marketing perspective?" 

"Well... You obviously know your customers better than I do..." She flipped 
through pages. "Why would anybody do this?" 

"Because some people believe that regular enemas are good for you. It certainly 
makes you feel better. Have you ever had an enema?" 

"Once. When I was a senior in high school I had to have my wisdom teeth 
removed. I had a prescription for some pain-killer ... Vicodin or the like. It 
made me seriously constipated." 

"Opioids can do that," I replied. 

"My mother took me to our family doctor who recommended an enema. It was a 
little squeeze-bottle from the drugstore." 

"Did it work?" 

"Yes, it worked ... but I wouldn't say it was an experience I'm eager to 
repeat." 

"Well," I replied, "what I recommend on my site are the old-fashioned, large-
volume water enemas. The squeeze-bottle types contain a strong phospho-saline 
solution. They work by irritating the colon, and by pulling water out of your 
tissues. They have a large amount of phosphate in them, and that's not good for 
your kidneys. The plain water kind work by mechanical stimulation of the colon. 
It's gentler and a more natural action." 

"Do you mean colon cleansing?" she asked. "I just read an article in the News 
Weekly critical of that procedure." 

"I saw the same article," I replied. "It was regarding colon hydrotherapy. 
That's when the colon is repeatedly filled and emptied. Their detoxification 
claims are, I think, exaggerated; and you are exposing your colon to too much 
water. A simple enema will effectively treat even the most stubborn 
constipation." 

"When I start getting that way I take some senna," she said. 

"Why take something that affects your entire digestive system when it's only 
the last four feet of it that need treating?" 

"Is this something you do, Ethan?" 

"Of course. A good enema makes you feel great afterward." 

She chortled. "How do you even get started down this path?" 

"Well... I'm old enough so that when I was a kid, enemas were part of the home-
remedy arsenal. For the first half of the twentieth century enemas were routine 
-- they were considered part of a healthy regimen. A regular internal bath to 
accompany a regular external one. My grandmother thought regular enemas had a 
tonic effect on the colon." 

"Tonic? How?" 

"By exercising the colon and improving its muscle tone. It was only in the 
sixties they started to fall out of fashion." 

"If they're so beneficial, they why did they fall out of fashion?" 

"In the last fifty years we've seen medicine change from small practitioners 
into a big industry. Look at all those drug commercials on TV. If you were part 
of the medical industry, which would you prefer? Something someone can do at 
home for free or something for which you can collect a fee?" 

"That's a cynical way of looking at it." 

"Well... Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," I said. 

"Fair enough. I won't knock it ... but I won't guarantee I'll try it, either." 

 

Lize sat beside me in the Oldsmobile as I drove toward the airport. "Relax," I 
said. 

"I am wound pretty tight," she replied. "God, how I hate traveling. I 
appreciate you taking me to the airport." 

"I don't see any need to pay fifteen bucks a day to park your car here -- even 
if it is on an expense account." He drove a bit further. "By the way -- I 
posted those new pages with your photos." 

"And?" 

"You're getting fan mail, Lize. I'll show you some when you get back. I told 
you -- you project personality in your photos." 

She blushed. "Oh, God... What sort of things do they say?" 

"Oh ... they want to know more about the lady in the pictures. Maybe we should 
make up a biography for you -- come up with a pseudonym. What do you think?" 

"I'm thinking maybe posing for those pictures wasn't such a good idea." I 
pulled up to the curb and released the trunk. Lize climbed out and retrieved 
her bag. 

"I'll park the car," I called to her through the open window. "I'll come inside 
to make sure your flight gets off okay." 

"Thanks." 

 

Part II

I sat on a bench at the baggage claim and spotted Lize on the escalator. She 
headed for the carousel and I jumped up to join her. "I see you survived." 

"Barely," she replied. "I am glad to be home." 

The carousel began turning and bags tumbled out of the chute onto it. "Is that 
yours?" I asked, pointing. 

"No -- similar... There's mine." 

I lunged for it and grabbed the handle; then we headed to the parking lot. As I 
opened the trunk to place Lize's bag inside she opened the passenger door, 
climbed in and fastened her belt. 

"You'll have to show me the hole," I remarked. 

"What hole?" 

"The one they drilled into your head. Isn't that what they do at these 
corporate management workshops?" 

"Maybe it would've been easier if that really was what they did. It was a lot 
of role-playing. I hate role-playing." 

"I think you'd be good at it." I turned onto the bypass that allowed us to 
avoid downtown traffic. We exited the freeway and followed local streets to the 
duplex. "Shall we call Ling's for delivery?" I asked. 

"I suppose." 

"The usual?" 

"Fine." 

"Are you okay? You seem a little down." 

"I'm tired," she replied. "I am glad to be home, Ethan." 

I called and placed the order. Then I gestured Lize to my laptop. "Here are 
some of the emails that came in after I posted those photos." Lize sat at my 
desk. She tucked a curly lock of dark blond hair behind her ear and began 
scanning the messages. "You're a hit with my customers, Lize. They want to see 
more of you. We should take some more photos." 

"Maybe... Some of these notes are sweet." 

"You have some offering to go out with you." 

"I don't know about that," she replied. 

The doorbell rang and I answered it. "Dinner's here," I announced. 

I sat across from Lize at my kitchen table and watched her unenthusiastically 
pick at her char sue ding. "Something wrong?" I asked. "I thought that was your 
favorite." 

"It is..." She set down her fork. "I spent what little spare time I had this 
past week going over your website ... and, following some of the links you have 
to other sites. I was educating myself on the topic of enemas." 

"Good. I'm pleased." 

"And, I was reading the testimonials. Ethan ... I'm not real comfortable 
talking about this ... but..." 

"But what?" 

She stared at her dinner plate. "I think ... I think I want to ... to try one." 

"Did my website do a good job of selling it to you?" 

She continued staring at her plate. "Well... To an extent. I told you how 
traveling upsets me." 

"I remember." 

"It upsets my ... rhythms. I'm a creature of habit, Ethan and a trip like this 
upsets my habits. I've come to anticipate it and I usually take some senna 
along with me. The problem with that is -- I never know when it's going to kick 
in. With all the workshops and evening sessions..." She looked up at me. "I 
don't think I pottied the whole time I was away." 

"You must be pretty uncomfortable, then." 

"I am. I said I'm a creature of habit, Ethan. When I'm out of my element, I 
really get discombobulated." 

"I'd be glad to supply you with equipment and know-how," I replied. "This is 
something you can do yourself." 

"I'm terribly inept at this sort of thing. You said you were a registered 
nurse." 

"It's been twenty-five years since I administered an enema, Lize." 

"I'm sure it's like riding a bike -- once you learn, you never forget. After 
reading your website I'm convinced you're knowledgeable and I trust you. And, 
I'm pretty desperate." 

"I'd be happy to help you take an enema, Lize. Relief is just a few minutes 
away." 

"Do you mean ... now?" 

"If you're so uncomfortable -- the sooner the better." 

"Well ... I asked for it." 

"Your place or mine?" I regarded her. "You'd probably be more at ease in the 
comfort of familiar surroundings." 

"Probably," she agreed. 

"I'll go get the necessaries." 

I headed into the basement and returned carrying a paper bag and a metal 
device. Lize led me into her unit and I set the bag on the kitchen counter. 
"This is a portable stand," I explained as I unfolded the metal device's legs. 
"It's a good seller. We modified it from a music stand." I began removing items 
from the paper bag. "We'll set up shop in your bedroom. Comfort is important 
when you're taking an enema." 

Lize approached me. "Should I change?" 

"We'll need access to your bottom," I replied. "I know ... be right back." I 
headed back to my side of the duplex and returned carrying an item in a clear 
plastic bag and handed it to her 

She opened the bag and removed its contents. "A hospital gown? You sell these?" 

"I do. You'd be surprised at the market for them." 

"By now, nothing surprises me." She carried the gown in to her bedroom and 
closed the door. 

I removed a box from the paper sack and began unwrapping cellophane. Lize 
returned wearing the hospital gown. "It's been years since I've worn one of 
these," she remarked and regarded the box I was opening. "Is that new?" she 
asked. 

"Yes -- to make sure it's absolutely sanitary." 

"How much do I owe you for all this?" 

"Forget it. It's just a garden-variety, drugstore quality combo syringe. My 
cost on these is so low I won't worry about it. The gown and red bag together 
would be under ten bucks." 

"And the stand?" 

I shrugged. "That's a prototype. I can't sell it." I started assembling the 
apparatus -- sliding the plastic clamp on the hose and affixing the stopper 
attachment to one end and the straight enema pipe to the other. I began running 
water in the kitchen sink to warm it. "I'm going to put a little glycerin in 
the water," I said. 

"What will that do?" 

"It'll make the enema a bit more purgative. Up until a few years ago I would've 
used some Castile soap. Soapsuds enemas were de rigueur in hospitals at one 
time. The glycerin will serve the same purpose but it's gentler." 

She picked up the bottle of glycerin. "I remember this -- you took my picture 
with it -- vegetable glycerin..." 

"Yes. It's food grade ... which means it's also enema grade." 

"How much do you use?" 

"About two tablespoons per quart of water. I'm also adding some salt to make 
the solution better match your bodily fluids -- two teaspoons per quart. That 
will reduce the chance of you absorbing too much water." I measured the 
glycerin and table salt into a plastic pitcher and then added water from the 
tap, stirring the solution so it was thoroughly mixed. This went into the 
fountain syringe's bag. 

"Well -- we're ready. Follow me." Lize followed me into her bedroom. "Do you 
have a towel you can spread on the bed?" I asked. 

"Oh... Yes..." She removed a bath sheet from a closet and unfolded it on the 
bed. I adjusted the height of the stand and hung the bag on it. "How should I 
be?" 

"Lie on your back." Lize crawled onto her bed. "Uhh... You WILL have to lose 
the panties I'm afraid." 

"Oh, duh..." Lize reached under the hem of the gown and slid her briefs down 
her long, slender legs. She handed them to me and I set them on a chair. 

"Okay -- want to feel your tummy." 

Lize lay on the towel and tugged at the hem of the gown. It cut across her 
thighs a few inches above her knees. Gently, I palpitated her abdomen through 
the fabric of the gown. "I can feel some fullness in there." I gazed into her 
eyes. "I'm going to explain what's about to transpire," I said, touching her 
belly near her right hip. "Your colon starts here. It goes up to under your 
liver, across to your spleen and then back down." I traced the shape on her 
belly. "We're going to try to fill your entire colon with the enema solution. 
The distention from the enema should stimulate peristalsis, and the water 
should help soften whatever is in there. The glycerin will add a bit more 
stimulation." 

"How much water?" 

"It's a quart and a half," I replied. "Even if your colon is impacted you 
should be able to take that much." 

"Will it hurt?" 

"You may feel some discomfort," I replied. "We'll go slowly to keep any 
cramping to a minimum. As the enema progresses you may feel a sense of fullness 
or bloating -- that's normal. You shouldn't experience any real pain. If you do 
-- tell me right away and we'll stop. Okay?" 

"I guess." 

"Are you scared?" I asked. 

"A little apprehensive," she replied. "It does look like a lot of water." 

"Don't worry -- I know what I'm doing, and I know how to keep discomfort to a 
minimum. I want you to lie on your left side and draw up your knees." 

Lize complied with my request and I covered her legs and feet with the afghan 
that lay folded on the foot of her bed. I pulled on a latex exam glove. "I'm 
going to put some lubricating gel on your bottom. I'm also going to feel inside 
to see if there's anything abnormal that would counter indicate taking the 
enema." 

I squeezed a blob of gel onto my gloved finger. With my left hand I lifted the 
gown to uncover her bottom. 

"So, this is why these things close in the back," she remarked. 

"It does make this sort of procedure go a bit more smoothly." I gently spread 
her buttocks to expose her pinkish-brown anus, surrounded by an oval patch of 
more darkly pigmented skin and some short, light brown hairs. This led me to 
believe that Lize kept her pubic hair untrimmed and natural -- not that it was 
any of my business, but this sort of thing was tough to avoid speculating about 
with a patient as attractive as she. "This might feel cold. Just relax..." 

I worked the lube into her anus, delving my finger deeply into her rectum. 
"Everything feels normal." I snapped open the clamp to flush air from the hose, 
catching the outflow in the pitcher; then snapped it closed again. "Here comes 
the nozzle..." I applied some lube to the enema pipe, then touched its tip to 
her orifice, gently eased it past her sphincter and into her rectum. "Squeeze 
your cheeks together against the hose fitting," I advised. "That will keep it 
in place. Otherwise these things have a habit of popping out." I lowered the 
hem of her gown to cover her. 

I pulled the glove off, inside out, and dropped it into the wastebasket. "Now, 
I want you to straighten your left leg a bit ... keep your right knee bent and 
roll partway onto your belly ... slip your left arm behind your back ... that's 
it..." I adjusted her knee. "Relax your body and let your face rest against the 
bed. This is the Sims position. It straightens the lower part of your colon and 
puts it slightly downhill." I regarded her slender, pale legs and the enema 
hose leading up under the gown. "Are you okay?" 

"Okay so far," she replied. 

"When I start the enema the first thing you're apt to feel is some pressure in 
your rectum and an urge to go. You'll need to stifle that urge, Lize; but that 
shouldn't be difficult. Once the fluid works its way deeper into your colon 
that sensation should pass and the enema should proceed more easily. If you 
should feel pressure or cramping, tell me and I'll stop the flow until it 
subsides. Understand?" 

She nodded. "Understood." 

"Remember -- as the enema proceeds to completion you may start feeling a 
sensation of fullness or discomfort in your belly. That's normal. One thing you 
should not feel is pain. Tell me right away if you do." Lize nodded in 
comprehension. "Ready?" 

"Ready." 

I stood so I could see her face and read her expression. "Then, here we go ... 
try to relax." With a snap I opened the clamp. 

"I feel it," she remarked. "It's warm..." 

I let the enema flow for about five seconds and closed the clamp. "What are you 
feeling?" I asked. 

"I feel like I need to ... to pass some gas," she replied. 

"The enema has filled your rectum. We'll pause for a bit until your colon 
relaxes so the water can work its way in deeper." 

"That sense is fading," she said. 

"I'm going to give you some more. Tell me if you feel pressure or cramping. 
Getting the enema past your lower colon is the most difficult part -- your 
colon is kinky and apt to be impacted." I opened the clamp. "Take long, deep 
breaths and use your diaphragm. The motion of your muscles in your abdomen will 
flex your colon and help the enema penetrate." 

Lize began slow, deep breathing through her mouth. "This helps," she said. 
"Pressure." 

. I pinched the hose to stop the flow. "Just relax and let the enema find a 
channel past the impaction," I said. 

"Okay -- it's better." 

I released the hose and regarded the bag as it deflated. "Are you feeling any 
more pressure or cramping?" I asked. 

"No cramping. Pressure builds and releases. I can feel it flowing deeper into 
me. It's a very ... different sensation." 

"Unpleasant?" 

"Not at all. Just ... unfamiliar." 

I closed the clamp. "We're about a third done. I want you to roll onto your 
back. I'll mind the hose." Lize eased herself onto her back and stretched out 
her long legs. "We'll let you rest for a moment. How are you feeling?" 

"Fine. I really don't feel much of anything." 

"That's the way it should be, at this point." I fingered the clamp and it 
released with a snap. Lize resumed her deep breathing and I regarded her 
abdomen rising and falling with each breath. "It looks like it's flowing in 
easy, now." 

"I'm starting to feel fullness," she remarked. "I think I can feel the water 
here." She pointed to her belly, high on the right side. 

"You're doing really well, Lize. I'm going to massage your tummy. That should 
help move it in deeper." I stroked her belly through the fabric of the gown, 
from her left hip, up and across and then down to her right. "I can feel the 
fullness... Lize -- I want you to roll partway onto your right side. That'll 
let gravity move it in further." 

She shifted onto her right side. "Something gurgled inside," she remarked. 

"You have some gas in your gut. Everyone does." I watched the bag deflate and 
it emptied with a soft gurgle. I closed the clamp, reached under her hem and 
removed the nozzle. "You're done," I said. "You're doing really well. Roll onto 
your back. How are you feeling?" 

"I feel full ... bloated ... stuffed." 

"Discomfort?" I asked. 

"I wouldn't say discomfort," she replied. "It's not unpleasant ... not 
pleasant, either. It's a ... sensation I'm not familiar with." 

"You should hold the enema for a while." 

"How long?" 

"As long as you can ... the longer the better. The water and glycerin will 
soften any hard masses and make it easier for you to eliminate. I'm going to 
massage your tummy some more." I pressed my palms against the sides of her 
abdomen. 

"I think my stomach is bulging," she said. 

"That's normal. The water has to go somewhere. If I press here, you bulge 
there. Are you starting to feel an urge to go?" 

"Not really." I continued massaging her abdomen, following the shape of her 
colon. "Now I feel a bit like I want to go." 

"You should hold it until that urge is strong." 

"It's getting stronger..." 

"Hold it back." 

She closed her eyes and grimaced. "It's passing." 

"The enema is stimulating peristalsis in your colon," I replied. "It means it's 
working." 

"Another ... stronger one." She drew in a breath, held it and closed her eyes. 
A gurgle came from her belly. 

"Hold it for one more," I coached. "Then you can go sit on the toilet. When you 
go to expel it -- don't force it. Relax and let your colon do the work. Don't 
strain if there's nothing there. Understand?" 

Lize nodded. She drew in a breath, closed her eyes, clamped shut her jaw and 
grunted. "Can I get up now? Please?" 

I gave her my hand and she stood. "Let's see that tummy," I said. She turned 
sideways to me, pulled the gown taut across her abdomen and ran her hand along 
her stomach. "Definite distention there." 

"If you'll excuse me..." Lize waddled toward her bathroom holding her abdomen 
with both hands. I carried the empty enema bag into the kitchen and rinsed it. 

I sat on her bed while she finished in the bathroom. Lize approached me. "How 
did you make out?" 

"Good," she replied. "An awful lot came out and not just water. I had no idea 
so much was in me." She pressed her hand on her belly. "I definitely feel 
better." 

"Did you experience cramping in the bathroom?" I asked. 

"Some. The senna gives me cramps, too -- but this was milder. Overall I'd say 
that it was an easy experience ... not at all unpleasant." 

"I'm glad," I replied. 

"I do feel a bit ... sloshy. Is that normal?" 

"Maybe there's still some inside you." 

"After all that came out -- I don't think so." Lize's eyes widened and she 
pressed her hand against her abdomen. 

"Something happening?" 

"I think so... Excuse me." 

I watched her dash to the bathroom and slam shut the door. 

Shortly she approached me in her kitchen. "Now I feel like I'm empty," she 
said. 

"More came out?" 

"I'll say. It felt like as much as the first time." She regarded me as I ran 
the water in the kitchen sink. "What are you doing?" 

"I'm making another." 

"Another?" 

"Yes. The glycerin is a bit irritating to your colon so it's a good idea to 
follow up with another enema to rinse it out. You should always use some salt 
in an enema. I'm also adding some baking soda -- it's soothing to the colon." I 
measured salt and soda into the warm water, filled the bag and flushed air from 
the hose. "Come with me..." 

Lize followed me into her bedroom and I hung the bag on the stand. She regarded 
the business end of the hose. "Isn't that a douche nozzle?" she asked, 
pointing. 

"It is indeed. It works great for enemas, too. The shape and length makes it 
easier to hang onto ... less likely to slip out." 

"I see... Why didn't you use it for the first one?" 

"I didn't want you any more daunted than necessary." 

Lize lay on the bed on her left side and drew up her knees. I slipped on 
another examination glove and squeezed lube onto my finger to give the nozzle a 
liberal coating of the stuff. After hanging the hose on the stand I squeezed 
more lube onto my finger. Again I lifted the gown and with my left hand spread 
her to expose her anus. Slipping my finger in I thoroughly coated her anal 
canal. 

Holding her buttocks apart with my left hand I touched the nozzle to her 
orifice. She flinched. "Just relax," I said. With a rocking motion I eased the 
bulbous end past her sphincter and watched it disappear into her rectum. "Are 
you okay?" I asked as I slipped off the glove. 

"Okay... It does feel bigger in me. It doesn't feel bad, though." 

"You can take this one on your back. The first enema cleaned you out and opened 
you up so this one should go really easily. Try to get comfortable." 

Lize stretched her legs as she lay on her back. "Okay -- I'm ready." 

"Just relax. Nothing more important than being relaxed for one of these." I 
snapped open the clamp, sat on the bed beside her and gently massaged her belly 
through the gown. 

"I can feel it," she remarked. "The water's flowing in fast. I really can feel 
it filling me. I can feel it moving up my left side." 

"I can feel it filling you, too," I replied as I stroked her abdomen through 
the fabric. 

"I like how it feels..." She rocked her hips gently. "I can feel the warmth 
penetrating deep into me." 

"You're doing really well, Lize." 

"I'm starting to feel full." 

"I can see you filling up. Your tummy is starting to get big. Look..." I 
smoothed my palm from her sternum down her belly. 

"So I see," she replied. 

"I'm starting to feel hardness in your belly." 

She ran her hands along her sides. "I can feel it, too. It feels like more than 
last time." 

"This is two full quarts," I remarked. "Without the glycerin this enema has to 
work on just the mechanical stimulation from the volume of water. Take long, 
deep breaths." 

Lize began breathing deeply through her mouth. "Feels like too much," she 
panted. 

I closed the clamp. "You have a bit less than a pint to go. You should take as 
much as you can, but no heroics. " 

"I'll try to take it all. Maybe stopping to rest is helping." 

"Roll onto your right side. Gravity will make it flow downhill into the upper 
part of your colon." 

She rolled over and ran her hand along her abdomen. "My stomach is huge, 
Ethan." 

"Ready for the rest of it?" I asked. 

"Ready as ever." 

I snapped open the clamp. "Now try panting like a dog ... relax your belly and 
let it fill. You're doing great, Lize..." She parted her lips and took short, 
rapid breaths through her mouth. "Almost ... going ... going..." The bag 
emptied with its characteristic glug. "Gone." I closed the clamp and slipped 
the nozzle from under her hem. 

Lize rolled onto her back and pressed her palms against her abdomen. "God -- I 
am so full and so big... How long should I hold this one?" 

"Get up and go whenever you're ready." 

"I am definitely ready..." I gave her my hand. She swung her feet to the floor 
and stood. Holding her belly with both hands she headed into the bathroom. 

I began putting away the equipment when I heard her calling my name. "Lize -- 
do you need something? 

"Ethan -- can you get me one of those examination gloves?" 

"Sure." I pulled one from the box and then cracked open the bathroom door. Lize 
was sitting on the toilet. 

I held out the glove and she reached for it. "Thanks," she said. 

"What do you want that for?" 

"You'll see." 

I shrugged my shoulders and closed the door. Shortly Lize approached me. "God, 
I feel so good," she said. "Inside I feel ... empty and relaxed. When you said 
you feel good after an enema -- I had no idea just how good. I feel wonderful." 

"Nothing beats the sensation of a cleaned-out colon," I remarked. 

She held out her closed hand, palm down. "Here." 

"What's this?" I held out my open palm and she let something drop into it. I 
regarded a toy marble made of clear and blue glass. "Where did this come from?" 
I asked. 

"I swallowed it," she replied, "when I was eight or nine. I remember my mom 
calling the doctor in a panic. He said I'd most likely pass it, and unless I 
started having problems not to worry about it. I never had any problems so I 
figured I had passed it years ago. Instead it was lodged in my gut for two 
decades -- until your big enema dislodged it." I handed it back to her and she 
held it up to examine it. "The second one felt so good coming out," she 
continued. "It came out in long surges. I could feel the water moving inside me 
... my tummy flattening and my colon deflating. Then I heard the clink of 
something hard hitting the bowl. I looked down and saw this." She held the 
marble to the light. "It makes me wonder what else has been lodged in there for 
years. I don't care what mainstream medicine says about enemas -- you've made 
me a convert. This is a convincer, Ethan, and I am convinced." 

"You know," I replied, "it's the converts who are the most devout." 

"I believe it." She regarded me and bit her lip. "I'd like another. Would it be 
okay to have another?" 

"Certainly ... though I don't think you need another." 

"I want to experience it again -- the sensation of being filled ... the warmth 
invading my body, filling me. Now that I know what to expect I want to 
experience it. I want to savor it." 

"Okay... I'll make another two-quart for you." 

 

Part III

I began running water in her kitchen sink. "I'll explain what I'm doing. This 
is something you can do yourself, Lize. You can have one whenever you want. 
Next time you travel..." 

"I wouldn't want to pack a big enema bag in my luggage," she remarked. 

"I sell travel and single-use units that are very discreet," I replied. 

"I like having you do it for me," Lize replied. "You have a very pleasant 
bedside manner. I think it was a mistake for you to give up nursing." 

"Thanks," I replied. 

"I mean it, Ethan. I feel secure and comfortable with you -- like I did with 
your uncle ... but in a different way, of course. He was more like a 
grandfather. You're more like a ... a favorite uncle or a trusted friend of the 
family." 

"If you ever think you need an enema, I'd be happy to accommodate you." 

"I thought you would be," she replied with a smile. 

"Nonetheless an educated consumer is ... educated. You should know how to do 
this. We'll make this one plain saline," I said as I added salt to the water 
and filled the reservoir. "The formula is one teaspoon per quart. Temperature 
is important -- you want it at or slightly above body temperature. If the water 
is too cool it can cause cramping -- although some folks like them that way. 
The best way to test it is to take a sip of the water. If it's not too hot in 
your mouth, it won't hurt your colon." I flushed air from the hose and carried 
the apparatus into Lize's bedroom. 

She reclined on her bed on her left side with her knees drawn up. I pulled 
another exam glove onto my right hand, squeezed a blob of lube onto my finger, 
lifted the gown and applied it to her bottom. Spreading her with my left hand I 
touched the nozzle to her orifice. "Your anal canal is aligned with your 
navel," I explained. "However, your rectum lies along the base of your spine. 
Once the tip clears your sphincter, you should tilt it toward your head. 
Otherwise it might bump into the wall of your rectum." With a smooth motion I 
slid it all the way into her, up to the hilt. 

"I'll have to remember that," she said, rolling onto her back, stretching her 
long legs and crossing her ankles. 

"Ready?" I asked. 

"Can I control it?" 

"Certainly." I handed her the hose and watched as she opened and closed the 
clamp. "Are you having cramping?" 

"No... I want it to last. I like feeling the water flowing into me." She looked 
up and into my face. "I like feeling your hand on my belly." 

I sat on her bed and began a circular massage of her abdomen through the fabric 
of her gown. Under her muscles, her belly felt soft and relaxed, but soon I 
could start feeling fullness as the bag emptied into her. 

Lize closed the clamp with about half the bag remaining. "Feels nice," she 
said. Then, she lifted her hips and hiked up the gown so the hem lay just below 
her hips. "On my skin," she said. 

I slipped my hand under the fabric and resumed caressing her belly. Touching 
her smooth abdomen, my skin against hers was electric. I almost could feel the 
static in the air. And, I definitely could feel fullness developing inside her. 
"Your tummy isn't quite as flat as when we started," I remarked. 

"I know -- I can feel it, too." She opened the clamp to let more water flow and 
then closed it. "Feels really nice, Ethan." 

I began stroking her belly, under the gown, in a circular motion from her left 
hip, up, across under her ribs and down to her right hip. Touching her directly 
I could feel her musculature under her skin and her colon becoming more 
distinct as it became distended with the inflow of water. "You are really 
getting full," I said and slipped my hand from under the hem. Guiding her 
fingers I traced the shape of her colon through the fabric of the gown. "You 
can explore your anatomy," I remarked. "The bulge here..." I directed her 
fingers to her lower left abdomen. "...is your sigmoid colon." She nodded as I 
showed her the outline of her distended abdomen. "Up ... across and down ... 
descending, transverse and ascending ... and, this is your cecum." 

"It feels like a football again," she remarked as she probed her belly. 
"Cool..." 

Lize closed the clamp and rolled onto her right side, her knees flexed. She 
rested for a moment, massaging the right side of her abdomen. "You called this 
part the cecum?" 

"That's right." 

"Definitely football... Feel." 

I palpitated the right side of her abdomen. "Yes, that is one full cecum." 

Lize snapped open the clamp and I watched the bag deflate as the last of the 
enema flowed into her. A soft glug announced that the bag was empty. "My 
stomach is huge, Ethan..." She patted her belly. "Absolutely huge." I retrieved 
the nozzle from her bottom and she rolled onto her back. "I think I'm ready to 
go." 

I helped her sit up. Lize swung her feet to the floor and stood. 

"Let's see that tummy." 

She turned sideways to me and ran her hand along the fabric of the gown. "I am 
so huge. I look three months pregnant." She regarded herself in a full-length 
mirror on her closet door. 

"Are you going to want another?" I called after her as she headed toward her 
bathroom. 

"No -- I'm done." 

"Then, I'll put this away." 

Lize emerged from the bathroom and approached me. "I feel better than before -- 
really empty and relaxed ... mellow. How often would it be safe to have 
enemas?" she asked. 

"Well... That varies from individual to individual. Once or twice a week 
wouldn't be too often. Some folks are daily users. Now that you know what an 
empty colon feels like, you'll be in a position to judge when you need one ... 
or, just want one for that matter." 

"How often do you do it?" she asked. 

"As needed. I don't get a thrill from taking them." 

We stood, facing each other. I scanned her, regarding her slim arms and 
slender, shapely legs. "Are you okay?" I asked. 

"What makes you think I'm not okay?" 

"Because your heart is pounding so hard I can see your pulse in your neck." We 
continued gazing at each other. Lize moistened her lips with her tongue, 
swallowed and moistened them again. 

I got the hint, or at least I thought I did and I was willing to risk it. I 
leaned toward her and kissed her lips. "I hope I'm not misreading your 
signals," I said. 

"You're reading them loud and clear." She drew in a breath, held me and we 
kissed again. "The enemas made so horny, Ethan. I never expected that. Do you 
think it's ... weird?" 

"Everyone responds differently." 

"But -- it's not ... normal -- is it?" 

"I can assure you it's not abnormal," I replied. "Lots of folks derive pleasure 
from the experience ... and in some it's a sexual pleasure. It's a bit more 
common in men than women I think -- but it happens in both genders." 

"I think you got a thrill from giving them to me," she said. 

"Was it so obvious?" 

"I could sense it and it was adding to my arousal." 

"You have a good sense," I remarked. 

"You don't have to be a detective to read someone. Did that happen with your 
other patients?" 

"You're a beautiful woman, Lize. You have a gorgeous body and a sexy bottom. 
I've administered my share of enemas but rarely to someone so lovely ... and 
never to someone..." 

"Someone?" 

"Someone I have feelings for." 

"What kind of feelings?" she asked. 

"I've grown fond of you, Lize." 

"Fond... That's a pretty safe word, Ethan. It covers a lot of ground." 

"Do you want me to admit this fifty-five year old has a crush on someone young 
enough to be his daughter?" 

"A crush? Is that all it is?" 

"I don't have a crush on you, Lize. It's deeper ... much deeper." I caressed 
her cheek with the backs of my fingers. Gently I traced her full lips. She 
parted them, drew my finger into her mouth and caressed it with her tongue. 
"I've been wanting you, Lize. Something about you resonates in me." I kissed 
her lips again. "I had reconciled myself to a platonic relationship." 

She smiled. "It's deeper for me, too. I've always been more comfortable around 
older men, Ethan. I'm very comfortable with you -- especially after this 
evening. The gentle and patient way you took care of me ...your respect for my 
feelings ... that's irresistible to me. I feel I can trust you -- implicitly. I 
need that trust." 

I embraced her and we kissed again. I gently nibbled her lower lip. Slipping my 
hand between the ties of the hospital gown I caressed the small of her back and 
her buttocks. Lize smiled. "How often have you done that with a patient?" she 
asked. 

"Never before now. Have you ever come on to your caregiver?" 

"Uhn-uhn," she replied shaking her head. 

"Did you ever want to?" 

"Only once. I had a huge crush on a young doctor who stitched up my foot when I 
stepped on a spike." I winced. "I have a scar." 

"Show it to me some time." Was that only a crush?" 

"That time it was. I was only fourteen." 

I led her to her sofa and held her on my lap, caressing her thigh under the 
fabric of the gown. "It's been a long time for me, Lize," I said and I kissed 
her again. 

"It's been a while for me, too." 

"I'm not really prepared for this." 

"There are some condoms in the nightstand -- leftovers from Jimmy. Is that what 
you meant by prepared?" 

"It is..." 

She smiled and kissed me. "You always are watching out for me." She stood and 
led me to her bedroom. I embraced her and kissed her lips. Lize began 
unbuttoning my shirt. 

She pushed it off onto the floor and rested her face against my shoulder, 
caressing my breast and fingering my chest hair. "You told me how old you are," 
I said. 

"Yes. I told you I'm Twenty-eight." 

"You don't look a day over twenty-four. You don't think I'm too old for you?" 

"No, I don't. I told you -- I'm comfortable with you." 

I unhooked my belt and slipped my feet from my boat shoes. Standing before her 
in my briefs I embraced her and pressed my hips against hers. "Let me help you 
out of that gown," I said. 

She turned her back to me. The top tie was loose so I nuzzled the base of her 
neck as I held her around her waist. Then, I undid the bottom ties and reached 
under the fabric, running my hands along her long, slender torso. I encountered 
her breasts. They felt full, round and firm. Running my fingers across them I 
felt her nipples firming under my touch. 

She reached up and put her hand over mine and squeezed, driving my fingers into 
her flesh. All the time I was nuzzling her neck and she was making soft, 
purring sounds in the back of her throat. 

I untied the final tie and the gown fell to the floor. Lize turned to face me. 
I scanned her body from head to toe to head again. She was stunning in the 
nude. Her arms showed exquisite muscle definition, her C-cup sized breasts were 
adorned with thick, perky nipples centered in wide, round, tan areolas. Her 
porcelain complexion was clear and superficial veins traced a faint, blue 
network on the undersides of her breasts. 

Lize's abdomen was flat and smooth with a cute, oval navel; and with just a 
hint of definition to her abs. As I surmised her bush was indeed a fully 
natural light brown. The drapes definitely matched the carpet with this girl. 

She pressed her hand against my briefs, fingered my very firm erection through 
my briefs and nodded approvingly. 

We embraced again. I held her body against mine and caressed the small of her 
back, her buttocks and her hips. They were smooth and taut without a trace of a 
ripple or a dimple. 

Lize turned down the covers on her bed. Then, she opened a drawer on her 
nightstand and retrieved an open box of condoms. "I'll set these here for when 
we need them," she said. 

I sat on her mattress and she sat on my lap. We kissed long, passionate kisses. 
I covered her face and neck with kisses and then eased her onto her back. 
Kneeling between her legs her I planted lingering, soft kisses on her shoulders 
and chest, moving down between her breasts, under them and around, spiraling 
inward until I reached her nipple. I drew it into my mouth and caressed the 
firm little knot of flesh with my tongue. 

Lize ran her hand through my hair. She lifted her face and drew in a breath. 
"Mmm... I was wanting that, Ethan," she said softly. "More ... nurse..." 

I drew her whole areola into my mouth and massaged it against the roof of my 
mouth with my tongue. Lize's eyelids drooped and she took long breaths through 
her parted lips. "Other side," she whispered. 

I nursed her other breast and with my free hand pinched her nipple, still slick 
from my saliva. Then I began fondling both with my hands, caressing them from 
back to front. "Deeper," she said, "like you're milking them." 

I firmed my touch, ending each stroke with a pinch and a tug on her now firmly 
erect nipples. "Mmm ... mmm ... mmm..." she sang with each stroke and she began 
lifting her thighs as I pinched and rolled her nipples. 

Shifting my position I began caressing her sleek legs, moving my hand up the 
inside of her thigh and ending with a probe of her vulva. I moistened my finger 
on my tongue and worked it into her slit, exploring the anatomy of her 
ladyparts. 

I felt the firm lump of her clitoral glans up under its little hood -- it felt 
like a ball bearing lodged in there. I could feel where her inner lips parted 
around her entrance and I slipped my finger inside. "You are wet," I remarked. 

"It's bubbling out of me," she replied. "I have never been this aroused in my 
life, Ethan. Never." 

"Feel good?" 

"Everything feels wonderful." 

I shifted my position again so I could work her clit, rocking it between my 
thumb and forefinger. I cupped my right hand over her left breast and she again 
put her hand on mine, squeezing and pressing my fingers into her flesh. 

Lize let her eyes drift shut and rolled her face to the side. Her lips parted 
and her breathing deepened. I watched her belly and ribs heave. She began 
singing again, "Mmm ... mmm ... mmm..." with each exhale and I could feel her 
heart begin to pound. 

Her heavy breathing became hoarse panting. Lize placed her right hand on her 
breast and began stroking her nipple with her thumb. I shifted my hand so I 
could pinch her left nipple between my fingers. Her heart began to race. 

Then, she drew in a breath, held it and clenched her jaw. She let out a brief, 
strangulated cry and then a loud, long groan, her belly shaking and her legs 
jerking. "Stop!" she gasped and I lifted my hands from her. "You made me come, 
Ethan," she panted. "You made me come." 

"You didn't want to come?" 

She smiled and laughed, then drew me to her and covered my face with kisses. 
"That's not it. I haven't before." 

"You never had an orgasm before?" 

"Of course I have ... just not during sex." She caressed my face. "You see -- 
I've led a sheltered life. I was a virgin before Jimmy and he wasn't an 
experienced or imaginative lover." 

"He never heard of foreplay?" 

"He tried ... but he was too impatient." She kissed my lips. "Not like you, 
Ethan." 

"Don't overestimate my abilities." 

"You're patient with me. I need that, Ethan. I never realized how much I needed 
it ... 'til now." 

I kissed her. "That looked like a very sweet orgasm," I remarked. 

"Mmm... It was." She lay on her back and opened her thighs. "I'm ready for you, 
Ethan." 

I stood and removed a cellophane-wrapped condom from the box and handed it to 
her. "You can do the honors." 

Lize pressed her hand against my briefs again. "You're wet, too," she said. 

"Tonight has been one thrill after another for me," I replied and stripped off 
my briefs and knelt near her. Lize wrapped her fingers around my stiff organ. I 
was more aroused than I had ever been, also. The whole evening's proceedings 
had given me a powerful hard-on. Making love with her topped everything and by 
now my erection was so strong it straddled the line between pleasure and pain. 

"Mmm," she remarked, "nice and firm. It has a heartbeat..." She unrolled the 
condom onto me and then relaxed on her back, her thighs spread wide. 

Holding my shaft at its base I guided its tip between her labia, wet and slick 
with her juices. Her warm tissues enveloped me as I eased my weight onto her 
and pushed in. She held me around my shoulders. I paused for a moment, gazing 
into her odd, blue, Asian-like eyes and regarding her pale skin, her slender 
arms and her perfect breasts. I kissed her lips and stroked her face. "You are 
gorgeous," I said. 

"I'm pleased you think so," she replied. "You're not bad-looking yourself." 

"Not bad looking. To a guy that sounds like a rave." I locked my legs with hers 
and began rocking my hips, thrusting in hard and taking my pleasure on the 
draw. Lize's lips parted. "Oh ... oh ... oh," she grunted with each of my 
thrusts. 

I could feel my climax nearing and I increased the strength of my thrusting. 
Lize held my head and pressed her lips against mine. I grunted as spasms 
exploded in my loins and I ejaculated, filling the condom. Lize held me in a 
tight embrace and I relaxed atop her, feeling the muscles in her abdomen 
against mine. 

My arousal fading, I reached under myself to snag the condom by its rim and 
lifted off of her; and then I lay on my back, holding Lize under my arm. 

She ran her fingers through a patch of chest hair on my sternum. "That felt 
really good, Ethan," she said softly. "I liked feeling you inside me." 

"I liked feeling me inside you, too." 

She kissed my cheek and snuggled against me. I felt her body relaxing and her 
muscles twitching as sleep overcame her. I closed my eyes. 

It was deep twilight when I awoke. Lize lay against me, her arm across my 
chest. I kissed her shoulder and she stirred. "Mmmph," she mumbled. "What time 
is it?" 

"Nine by your clock," I replied. "How are you feeling?" 

"Hungry. I haven't eaten much in the past couple of days ... being bound-up the 
way I was put a damper on my appetite. Now, after the enemas ... I'm hungry." 

"I can pop next door and get our dinners," I suggested. "We can give them a 
blast in the microwave ... have dinner in bed" 

"Mmm... Good idea." 

I pulled on my jeans. Bare-chested and barefoot I went into my side of the 
duplex and returned with the two boxes of takeout, along with another box of 
rice. I handed the char sue ding to Lize. She used a pair of bamboo chopsticks 
to pick up a chunk of pork and pop it in her mouth. 

I scooped some of mine with a plastic fork. "You use those like a pro," I 
remarked, gesturing toward her chopsticks. 

"I spent a semester in Singapore," she replied. 

"I've never been there," I replied, "and, I could never master chopsticks." 

"They're easy. I can teach you." She sipped some ginger ale. "I'm still trying 
to understand why the enemas affected me the way they did." 

"Well ... you must have some anal-erotic tendencies you didn't know you had. 
The nerves down there are pretty close together." 

"The further it went into me the more aroused I became," she replied. 

"You learned something about your body today." I scooped more of my dinner. 

"Ethan -- why does giving me enemas turn you on?" 

"That's tough to answer," I replied and chortled. "The earliest hard-on I 
remember was when I was about twelve or so. I was spending some time at my 
aunt's house -- my parents were on some trip or other and out of town. My aunt 
was my mom's sister and they both grew up in a family where regular enemas were 
routine. My mother had discontinued giving me enemas once I started to reach 
puberty. I had a cousin -- Christine -- who was a couple of years younger than 
I. My Aunt Ethel decided Christine needed an enema..." 

"Why would she think that?" 

"I think moms of that era kept close tabs on their kids' bowel habits. At any 
rate, it was bedtime. I went to use the bathroom and found it occupied. The 
door was ajar, and from where I stood I had a good view of the proceedings, and 
I remember it as if it were yesterday. I saw my aunt slip a bar of Ivory soap 
into a pitcher and run water over it. My cousin was standing in her nightshirt 
with a distressed expression on her face. Aunt Ethel picked the soap bar from 
the pitcher and dumped the sudsy water into the family red bag, which she hung, 
bulging with a quart of warm, sudsy water, from a wire coat hanger on a high 
towel bar. Then, she sat on the toilet lid and snapped her fingers. Christine 
dropped her panties, knelt and leaned over her lap. My aunt pulled up my 
cousin's gown. I could see everything. I watched as Aunt Ethel pushed the 
Vaseline-coated enema tip into my cousin's bottom, held it in place with one 
hand and switched on the water with the other. The bag started to deflate. At 
that point my aunt started to glance in my direction so I backed out of view, 
though I could still hear Christine's moans and whimpers. What I saw gave me a 
powerful boner that lasted a long time. And, it made a lasting impression on 
me." I regarded her. "When I was in my early teens I experimented with enemas 
and had some of the same experiences as you. As I matured I sort of grew out of 
it." 

"I must've grown into it," she replied, "and I didn't even know I had it." 

"You know," I remarked, "after tonight we need to figure out what sort of a 
relationship suits us." 

Lize swallowed a mouthful. "You were wonderful tonight, Ethan. I've never 
experienced such satisfying sex. You're attentive and giving. I think that 
comes with experience." 

"It comes with something," I replied. 

"I'm still a bit gun-shy after the Jimmy business. I'm not ready for a serious 
commitment ... not yet." 

"I guess I'm not either." 

"We can be good friends." 

"Friends who see each other naked," I remarked. "We'd be friends with 
benefits." 

"That suits me," she replied, "for now, at least. Who knows what it might 
develop into?" 

"Who knows?" I agreed. 

Lize emptied her carton and drained her soda can. She pressed her hand on her 
belly. "That hit the spot. I needed it, Ethan. I needed everything tonight." 

I picked up the empties and carried them to her kitchen. I retuned to her 
bedroom and slid under her covers, beside her. "Do you want me to leave or 
stay?" I asked. 

"I want you to stay." 

"So do I. I think feeling the other's warmth against you as you fall asleep is 
the best part of lovemaking." 

"The best?" she asked. 

"Yes -- the best." 

"I do believe you're a closet romantic, Ethan." 

"And, I believe you're a closet enemaphile." 

"Takes one to know one, don't you think?" 

I held Lize under my arm as she cuddled against me. She reached down and 
wrapped her fingers around my flaccid manhood. "I think it's so odd..." 

"What's odd?" 

"How big and hard it was and now..." 

"How soft and flaccid?" 

"Mmm... Though ... I do believe it's showing signs of life." She stroked the 
underside of my shaft from my glans to its base with the soft pads of her 
fingers. "Definitely responding." She giggled. "It just bounced." 

"Bounced?" 

"Watch..." She stroked me again and my organ jerked. "Are you doing that?" 

"You're doing it," I replied. "It likes what you're doing." 

"It likes or you like?" 

"It likes. Ask any guy and he'll tell you they have minds of their own." 

She knelt over my hips and kissed my glans. "It tastes like rubber." 

"Latex from the condom," I remarked. Lize knelt on her knees and elbows, 
straddling my body. She held my face and pressed her lips to mine. "You want 
more?" I asked. 

"I have a healthy libido," she replied. "Once it gets going it has quite an 
appetite. Can you do more?" 

"I can do more," I replied. She shifted her body toward my face so her left 
breast dangled over my lips. I caressed it and guided her nipple into my mouth; 
then I stroked her back and shoulder blades, pulling her tightly against my 
body. "I like how this feels," she said. "I like how you hold me, Ethan. It 
feels like you want me and I need that." 

I coaxed her alongside of me, slipped one leg between hers and began massaging 
her breasts, stroking them from her ribs outward as if milking them and ending 
each stroke with a tug on her nipples. Lize's lips parted and she drew in deep 
breaths through them. She thrust her mons against my thigh with each of my 
strokes. 

I eased her onto her back, lifted her ankle and kissed her calf, nuzzling 
behind her knee. Then I began kissing and licking the insides of her thighs, 
alternating from left to right until I reached her vulva. Lying flat between 
her legs I nuzzled her bush and parted her labia. "You have a pretty pussy," I 
remarked. 

"What makes someone's pretty?" 

"You have perfect, textbook anatomy," I replied as I explored the shape of her 
clitoral shaft. "Your clit feels as hard as a marble." 

"It feels like it could explode," she replied, "I'm so aroused." 

"We had better do something to relieve the pressure." I ran the tip of my 
tongue along the slick insides of her labia, her pubic hair tickling my lips. 
"You taste like latex, too," I remarked. Then, I worked my lips between them 
and began stimulating her clit with the tip of my tongue. I slid my arms under 
her thighs and caressed her flat abdomen. Cupping my hands over her breasts I 
began rolling her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. 

Lize placed one hand on my head and ran her fingers through my hair. She placed 
the other on my hand and pressed it against her breast. "Feels so good, Ethan," 
she said softly. "So good..." She closed her eyes and her breathing deepened. I 
could feel her ribs move with each breath and I could feel her flex her pelvic 
muscles, causing her clit to swell and press against my tongue. 

She stretched her arms out to her sides, palms down and gripped the bedclothes. 
"Oh," she gasped. "I feel as limp as a dishrag. This is perfect, Ethan. Don't 
change it -- don't change anything." She drew in another deep breath. "It's 
building ... building into a strong one..." 

Each stroke of my tongue on her clit reverberated in her thigh muscles. Through 
her breast I could feel her heart pounding and then racing. Lize drew in a deep 
breath through her wide-open mouth. "AHHH!" she gasped, her thighs shaking and 
her belly jerking. "Oh, God..." She touched my wrist. "Too much here, now." 

I moved my hands from her breasts, caressed her belly and massaged her mons. 
Lize gasped and made a little, post-orgasmic laugh. "Ethan -- you can stop 
now." I continued tonguing her clit. "Ethan -- I said you can stop, Ethan ... 
on second thought, it's starting to feel really good again..." She closed her 
eyes and her breathing again deepened. "Oh, God," she gasped and her legs 
shook. "More just like that..." 

I slipped my hands under her buttocks and lifted them, pressing her vulva 
against my lips. Lize let out a yelp, gasped and moaned. I could feel the 
muscles in her pelvic floor throbbing against my chin as each orgasm washed 
over her. She drew up her knees and squeezed my head between her thighs. Lize 
let out a cry and slipped her hand under my jaw. "Enough!" she cried. 

I came up from between her legs. She lay flat on her back, gasping to regain 
her breath. This time a bright pink flush covered her cheeks, neck and upper 
chest. "Are you all right?" I asked. 

"Oh, God am I all right!" she panted. "I never knew I could do that." 

"Do what?" 

"Have multiples. It was like waves washing over me... How did you know I could 
do that?" 

"I think most women can," I replied. "They just stop too soon." I retrieved 
another condom, handed it to her and lay on my back. Lize knelt beside me and 
ran her hands along my legs and body. She squeezed my erect organ and kissed 
the underside of its shaft. Then she tore open the wrapper and unrolled the 
condom onto me. "How do you want me?" she asked. 

"On top this time." 

She mounted me and I rocked my hips to drive into her. We locked legs. She 
cradled my face in her hands and we kissed. I held her around her shoulders and 
the small of her back and we began mutual thrusting against each other. 

Lize rocked her hips in a regular rhythm. I smoothed my palm along her 
buttocks, my fingers exploring her crevasse. I encountered the pucker of her 
anus, still slick with her juices and my saliva and I inserted my finger in, up 
to my second knuckle. Inside her rectum felt like warm, wet velvet -- a 
sensation I couldn't appreciate wearing an examination glove. 

She increased the vigor of her humping and grunted from the exertion. Her back 
became moist. "You're taking longer this time," she panted. 

"Are you complaining?" I grunted. "I'm not as young as I once was." 

"No -- you're giving me something to work with." 

I felt her sphincter tighten around my finger as Lize groaned. I felt my climax 
nearing so I held tightly onto her bottom and pressed my hips against hers. 
With a grunt I ejaculated and then fell limp under her. 

Lize covered my face with kisses. I caressed her cheek. "Did you have another?" 

"I don't know," she replied. 

"How can you not know?" 

"I think it's different for a woman." 

"I'll say it's different. I'd give anything to know what a female orgasm feels 
like ... to have them wash over you like waves." I began to reach under her for 
the condom. 

"Do you have to leave so soon?" she asked. 

"No." I held her around her shoulders and stroked her back. Lize sniffled and 
wiped her eyes. "Hey, hey," I said softly. "Are you the sort of girl who cries 
after sex?" 

"No. I'm not." 

"Then, what is it?" 

"I suddenly felt so close to you, Ethan. I felt I could trust you, implicitly -
- with anything ... with any part of me. I've never felt that before ... with 
anyone. It's a bit scary." 

"I was thinking, while I was doing oral on you and you were lying, nude, before 
me ... arms outstretched and in all your vulnerability -- how much trust that 
entailed." 

"I think I can love you, Ethan. I think I'm beginning to. That scares me, too." 

"Let's not go any faster or further than feels right," I replied. 

"Agreed..." I held onto the condom as she lifted off of me. She lay beside me, 
under my arm and stroked my chest. "I still feel it," she said. 

"Feel what?" 

"Like you're still inside me ... I get these little ... twinges ... 
aftershocks. I wish we didn't need to use a condom." 

"Have you tried going on the pill?" 

"I have and they don't agree with me." 

"It's not the only solution," I replied as I stroked her face. "I'm sure we can 
figure out something." 

 

Part IV

I taped shut the last box and attached the address labels. Then, I carried them 
up from the basement and loaded them into the trunk of the Oldsmobile. I should 
sell this and buy a truck, I thought. Hopping behind the wheel I drove to the 
local UPS depot and unloaded the boxes onto the receiving dock. 

Back home I glanced at the clock display on my microwave oven. Five, I thought. 
Lize would be along shortly. I sat and waited. Five-thirty came and went. Then 
six o'clock. 

I was about to call her cell when I remembered. She has some after-work meeting 
at the bank -- I remember, now. Geez, Ethan -- a mind is a terrible thing to 
lose... 

I found a frozen entree in my freezer -- Salisbury steak. I warmed up my oven, 
removed the wrapper and slipped the foil tray in to heat. Popping open a bottle 
of beer, I sat at the kitchen table. 

Around eight-thirty I heard the garage door open. Looking out my window I saw 
Lize's blue Ford pull into her side of the garage. The door rolled down. Home, 
safe and sound, I thought. 

I stripped to my briefs and readied myself for bed. I heard my phone ring. 

"Hello?" 

Ethan -- it's Lize. 

"I recognized you." 

Do you want to come over? 

"I was just getting ready for bed." 

Really? At eight-thirty? 

"Nothing else to do." 

Come over. Maybe we can come up with something to do. 

"Can I bring anything?" I asked. 

Mmm... I think I have everything we need. 

"Then, I'll see you shortly." 

I left the front door open. Please bolt it behind you. 

"Got it." 

I set down the handset, slipped into my jeans and pulled on a tee shirt. Then, 
picking up my keys I headed to the other unit in the duplex. I let myself in 
through the screen door, then closed and bolted the front door. 

Lize approached me in a white satin, floor-length robe. Her full lips turned up 
in a smile upon seeing me. "I take it you have something in mind," I said. 

"Oh, Ethan... I had this after-hours meeting..." 

"Have you had dinner?" 

"Yes, they fed us. Ethan -- I couldn't keep my mind on it. It kept wandering to 
last Saturday night ... what we did together." 

"Any particular thing we did?" I asked. 

"All of it. I especially kept thinking about your story of watching your aunt 
give your cousin the enema." She walked toward the kitchen. I saw the fountain 
syringe lying on the counter. Lize held up a bar of Ivory soap. 

"You want to try a soapsuds enema?" Lize bit her lip and nodded. "I'll go get 
some liquid castile." 

"No -- I want it to be like you described." 

"You're sure? Running water over bar soap isn't a very precise way to measure 
it. It might be too strong for you -- especially since you've never had 
soapsuds and don't know how you'll react to it." 

"It worked for your cousin." 

"Besides -- there's no guarantee that today's Ivory is the same as the Ivory of 
yore..." I took the bar from her and read the ingredients. "I don't see 
anything here that would be dangerous..." 

"So ... can we?" 

"Okay -- it's your enema..." I turned on the tap to warm the water, unwrapped 
the bar of soap and set it in the pitcher; then, I turned on the tap full and 
let the warm water flow over it. Suds began overflowing into the sink and I 
scooped them away. "The smell of Ivory soap really brings me back," I remarked. 
I scooped away more suds. "I had my share of Ivory soapsuds squirted into my 
butt," I added and poured the water into the enema bag, holding back the bar of 
soap so the water once again flowed over it. I screwed on the cap and attached 
the hose. Holding up the bag I flushed air from the hose. 

I turned to face Lize. "You said your cousin was in her nightgown," she said. 
"Did it look anything like this?" She untied her robe and slipped it off. 
Underneath she wore a sheer black babydoll and matching briefs. The bodice 
closed with a single tie. It was open in front and the material was no more 
substantial than a whisper. 

"Not in the least," I replied. 

She modeled her gown for me. "You like?" 

"That leaves little to the imagination." 

"Should I wear something else?" 

I chortled. "I don't have a very vivid imagination. You look sensational, 
Lize." 

She led me into her bathroom. I saw the tube of surgical jelly on the corner of 
the sink. "I want you to give it to me over your lap." 

I chuckled. "Lize -- you're a little tall for that. That procedure is pretty 
much reserved for children." 

"I still want to try it that way." 

"Why do you want that?" 

"I just want to experience it -- is that wrong?" 

"Oh, no ... not at all." I looked around. "The bathroom's too confining and 
there's no place to hang the bag." 

"Oh..." 

"Where's the stand?" 

"In the bedroom," she replied and picked up the tube of lube. 

"Do you have some Vaseline?" I asked. 

"Yes..." 

"We'll use that for an authentic experience." I snatched a hand towel from a 
rod and headed into her bedroom. Lize followed carrying a pot of petroleum 
jelly. I hung the bag on the stand and surveyed the premises. "Let's try the 
corner of the bed," I suggested, sat and patted my lap. "See if you can get 
comfortable lying across my knees." 

Lize knelt and rested her hips on my knees. "This isn't so bad," she remarked. 

"Okay, then." I adjusted the height of the bag on the stand. "This is about as 
high as it goes... I'm surprised you want to do this. You must never have been 
taken over a knee for a spanking." 

"I was never spanked in my life," she replied. "Of course, I was a good little 
girl." 

"I'm sure you were." I spread the towel across my thighs. "Okay, little girl -- 
you're about to get an old-fashioned enema. Off with the undies." Lize slid the 
sheer, matching briefs down her legs and stepped from them. "Over here." I 
patted my thigh. 

She knelt again with her hips across my thighs. Lize lay her forearms on the 
floor, crossed her wrists and rested her forehead on them. Her long, slender 
legs were stretched out, ankles crossed and her toes touching the floor. "I'm 
okay," she said. 

"Actually, this isn't a bad position for receiving an enema," I explained as I 
lifted the hem of her gown out of the way. "It angles your colon downhill." I 
caressed her buttocks. "It's good for the person administering it, too -- 
excellent access to your bottom. And, you have an excellent bottom. Did I ever 
tell you that?" 

"I think you have." 

I opened the jar of Vaseline, dipped in my finger and liberally coated the 
enema tip with it. With my left hand I spread Lize's buttocks to expose her 
anus. "You have a pretty little pucker, too. I'm going to grease it with this. 
That's how Aunt Ethel did Christine's..." Taking the nozzle in my right hand I 
used it to apply the Vaseline to her orifice. Gently rocking and rotating the 
tip I eased it past her anal canal and into her rectum. "You okay?" 

"I'm okay," she replied. 

Pressing my palm against her buttocks with the hose between my middle and ring 
fingers I held the nozzle in place. "It think," I said, "that you should take a 
soapsuds enema as fast as possible." 

"Why?" I heard Lize's voice coming from the floor. 

"To get it all in before your colon realizes what hit it. Soapsuds induce 
motility in your colon. You don't want to be fighting that to get an enema in. 
I'm going to start the flow. Use your breathing to control any cramping. 
Ready?" 

"Ready." 

With my left hand I snapped open the hose clamp. Within seconds Lize was taking 
long, deliberate breaths. "I feel pressure," she cried. "Can you stop it for a 
minute?" 

"Try panting like a dog -- use your diaphragm." 

Lize panted and I felt her belly moving. Her breathing slowed. "That's better," 
she said. "It felt like a dam burst. Now I can feel it flowing further in." 

Lize's breathing alternated from shallow panting to long, deep breaths. I 
watched the bag deflate, its emptying gurgle dampened by the sudsy foam in the 
hose. "You're done," I announced as I closed the clamp and slipped the nozzle 
out of her bottom. 

"That was pretty quick. Now what?" 

"Well... Aunt Ethel made Christine hold them for fifteen minutes." 

"Fifteen minutes? I guess I can lie here for fifteen minutes." 

"You think so? How are you feeling?" 

"Not too bloated. I have a different sensation from last time ... kind of a 
dull, indistinct ache ... like mild nausea but down low." 

"You're beginning to feel the soap." 

"Now it feels kind of like a case of Montezuma's Revenge coming on." She 
grunted. "I'm starting to have cramps, Ethan." 

"Keep holding it back," I replied. 

She groaned. "Another one ... strong one. I'm starting to feel really 
uncomfortable. When can I go?" 

"You wanted the soapsuds enema experience," I replied. "This is part of it." 

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed and grunted. "I don't think I can hold it! Ethan!" 
She groaned again. "Ethan -- I don't want to have an accident!" 

"I'll help you." I folded the hand towel into layers. With my right hand I 
pressed the fabric against her anus and with my left I pinched together her 
buttocks. 

"Ahh ... owwww..." Lize whimpered and a loud gurgle came from her belly. She 
panted, drew in a breath and grunted. "Mmmmpgh ... I'm getting a stomach-ache. 
How much longer?" 

"It's been three minutes," I replied, checking my watch. 

"Three? Only three?" 

"When you're holding a soapsuds enema each minute feels like ten." 

"Mmmmpph," she gasped and a loud groan came from her abdomen. "Ethan! I can't 
hold it any longer!" 

"After the this cramp passes, get up and go," I said. 

"Thank you..." Lize grunted and grimaced. Then she eased from my lap, stood and 
dashed into the bathroom, throwing open the toilet lid and slamming the door in 
a single motion. 

I took the bag from the stand, carried it to the kitchen and began rinsing it 
thoroughly. "Ohhh!" I heard her groan from behind the bathroom door. "Ohhh! Oh, 
man ... oh, God ... mmmmph...." 

I rapped on the door. "How are you doing in there? Everything coming out okay?" 

"Shut up!" she yelled and then grunted and groaned more. 

I made two quarts of a salt solution and filled the bag with it. This I carried 
it into her bedroom, hung it on the stand and adjusted the height. Taking a 
bath towel from her closet I spread it on the bed. With some matches from her 
nightstand I lit a pillar candle and turned off the lights. 

I sat on her sofa. Shortly I heard the toilet flush. Lize emerged from the 
bathroom with a lock of her hair wet with perspiration and stuck to her 
forehead. She approached me, lips pursed and fists clenched. "You look like you 
had a workout," I remarked. 


"This was not funny!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me it would be like 
this?" 

"I tried to," I replied. "I tried to caution you. I tried to direct your 
thinking..." 

"Was this what your cousin experienced?" 

"I remember hearing her grunting and moaning. You have to realize, Lize -- 
neither my mom nor my aunt were trained nurses. They learned to give enemas 
from their mother -- my grandmother -- and she wasn't a trained nurse, either. 
Whenever I make a soapsuds enema I use liquid castile, and I use it because I 
can measure it precisely and control the strength. You can't control what you 
can't measure, Lize. That's advice that applies to all aspects of life. Come on 
-- I'll give you a rinse." 

"No thank you." 

"A rinse enema is kind of optional with glycerin," I replied. "With soapsuds 
it's obligatory. Soap can cause chemical colitis. If you think you were 
uncomfortable before ... well, you don't want to experience that." 

"Right now my colon still feels rather indignant," she replied. 

"It'll feel better after a rinse." 

"Fine." She followed me into the bedroom and regarded the candle burning. 
"Forget it, Ethan. There's going to be no romantic evening tonight!" 

"I just wanted it to be soothing. If you're interested in trying different 
positions you might want to try taking this one on your tummy." I positioned a 
pillow on the towel. "Slip this under your hips. It'll keep pressure off your 
belly." 

Lize lay on her stomach with the pillow under her hips. I slipped an exam glove 
onto my right hand. "Lize -- I apologize. I should've been more forceful in 
dissuading you." 

"It felt like you were trying to teach me a lesson," she said with a pout. 
"We'll see who knows more about enemas." 

"Maybe there was an element of that. I am sorry. I'm sorry you experienced such 
discomfort." 

"Discomfort? That was the worst experience of my life! Ethan -- if my first 
enema had been like that one, there wouldn't have been a second one and we 
wouldn't have ... what it is we have together." 

"I said I'm sorry." 

She sniffled. "What's worse is ... I thought this would be something that would 
give you a thrill." 

"And, it did. I appreciate what you were trying to do. Forgive me?" 

"I'll think about it. I thought you were going to give me an enema." 

"Right..." I lifted the hem of her sheer gown, spread her buttocks and worked 
lube into her anus. Gently working the rounded tip of the douche nozzle past 
her sphincter I slid it into her rectum. Then I opened the clamp and closed it 
partway. 

"It feels cool," she remarked. 

"I think the water in the hose lost its heat." 

"It feels warmer, now. It's flowing in easily." 

"I can't rub your tummy with you lying like this like this," I remarked, "but I 
can rub your back." I slipped my hand under her hem and caressed her. 

"That feels nice..." She began taking deep breaths. "Lying like this I can feel 
the water flowing up my left side and across. Seems to be taking longer." 

"I have the hose stopped down a bit," I replied, "for a gentle fill." I began 
caressing the backs of her thighs. 

"That feels nice, too." 

"You have such pretty legs." I glanced at the bag. I pinched it to feel the 
level of water. "Almost done." I closed the clamp and removed the nozzle. "How 
are you feeling?" 

"Full ... but not too full. I think that first enema really cleaned me out." 

"I'm sure it did." I continued caressing her legs. 

"I want to get up and go but what you're doing feels good, too." 

I stood. "Get up and go." Lize rolled to one side, swung her feet to the floor 
and stood. "Let's see that tummy." 

She smoothed her hand along her abdomen. "Looks a little big." 

"A little big," I replied. "What's a little big? I do see some distention." She 
headed for the bathroom. "How about it if I make some hot chocolate? I know you 
like it and I know where everything is." 

"Okay..." She closed the door behind her. 

I poured milk into two mugs and set them in her microwave oven. I set a can of 
cocoa mix on the counter and waited for her. When I heard the toilet flush I 
pressed the button on the microwave. 

Lize stepped from the bathroom. "How are you feeling?" I asked. 

She nodded. "Much better, thanks." I set two mugs on her table. "In that tin on 
the counter are some ginger cookies one of my tellers made." 

"This?" I carried the tin to the table and pried off the lid. Lize reached in 
and took one. 

She sipped her cocoa. "Ethan..." She reached for my hand. "I forgive you, 
Ethan. I can't stay angry with you. And, I admit my own culpability. I 
should've discussed it with you, first." 

"I'm willing to talk about anything, Lize. Nothing's off limits." 

"I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to do something that would be a treat for 
you, and I wanted it to be spontaneous. I didn't anticipate having that 
reaction. So... I know it's not all your fault." 

I nodded. "Thanks. It'll take me a while for me to forgive myself. I was the 
one in charge and I let you down..." 

Lize's eyes widened and she pressed her hand to her belly. "Excuse me..." She 
headed back into the bathroom. She returned a few moments later. "I always 
think I'm empty when I'm not. Do you think the cocoa had anything to do with 
it?" 

"It might," I replied. "Your stomach and colon lie next to each other. One can 
stimulate the other." 

Lize drained her mug. I picked up hers, carried both to her sink and turned to 
face her. "I think I'll be going." 

"You're not coming to bed?" she asked. 

"You want me after tonight?" 

"I really don't like being alone at night, Ethan." 

I followed her into the bedroom where I stripped to my briefs. "I'll blow out 
the candle." 

"Leave it lit," she replied. "I'll blow it out in a bit. I like watching the 
shadows flicker." 

Lize lay on her side, her back to me. I slipped my arm around her waist and 
held her tightly. She drew in a breath and released it as a sigh. "This does 
feel good, Ethan," she said. 

"Lize -- I really am sorry..." 

"I said I forgave you. It's forgotten, Ethan." I kissed her shoulder. "Mmm?" 
she said. 

"Mmm what?" 

"That felt kinda nice." I kissed her shoulder again. Lize placed her hand on 
mine, guided it to her lips and kissed it. Then, she cupped my fingers over her 
breast. 

"I thought you said no romantic evening." 

"You never heard of a woman changing her mind?" I began nuzzling the base of 
her neck and fondling her breast through the fabric of her gown. "Feels good," 
she said. "Both sides?" 

"I'll see if I can..." I slipped my left arm under her and stroked both her 
breasts. 

"Feels really good," she whispered. "I like how you're kissing me ... holding 
me ... touching me... Mmm..." 

I continued fondling her through her gown. Lize's belly jerked and her legs 
twitched. "Here," I said and sat up, my back against the headboard. Lize sat 
between my legs, her back against my chest. I started to untie the lace holding 
together the bodice of her gown. "Don't undo it yet," she said. "I want to 
leave it on for a while." 

"Whatever you want..." I continued running my fingers across her breasts and 
could feel her nipples harden and grow tall. Her wide, round areolas were 
easily discernable through the sheer fabric of her gown. All along I had been 
kissing, nuzzling and nibbling her neck and shoulders. 

I slid one of her shoulder straps down her arm and peeled the fabric from her 
breast so I could fondle it, skin on skin. "Is it okay if I do this?" 

"Mmm ... I like that." 

I cupped my hand under her breast so I could run my thumb along it, ending the 
stroke with pinching and rolling her nipple. Lize tilted her head so I could 
continue nuzzling her long neck. "Other side like that," she said. 

I lifted and replaced her shoulder strap, peeled down the bodice over her left 
breast and began caressing her with my thumb. Lize gripped my thighs. Her 
breathing deepened and her legs began to quiver. I caressed her right thigh, 
sliding my palm up until my fingers were stroking her labia. After moistening 
my middle finger on my tongue I worked it into her slit. She drew in a deep 
breath. "Mmm..." 

She drew up her knees, placed the soles of her feet together and let her thighs 
fall wide open. Since her gown was divided and open in front, this exposed her 
pussy in all its glory and I took advantage. I dipped into her warm, slick 
juices; then, holding her clitoral shift with my thumb I began stroking her 
glans with my finger. "Uh-huh ... uh-huh ... uh-huh..." Lize made soft moans in 
the back of her throat. 

With my left hand I pinched and rolled her nipple in time with my stroking. 
Lize grasped the sheets. She tilted back her face, her mouth wide open and 
panted. "Ethan," she gasped, "this feels perfect. Don't change it..." 

I continued fondling her left breast while nuzzling her neck and stroking the 
firm knot of her engorged clit. I could feel her heart begin to race and her 
ribs moving with her heavy breathing. I gave her shoulder a gentle love bite. 
"Ethan," she panted, "I'm gonna come. More. MORE!" I increased the vigor of my 
stroking. "Ahh!" she gasped, her legs shaking and her belly jerking. "Ahh! Oh, 
stop!" She made a little laugh and her breathing slowed. 

"May I untie it now?" I asked. 

"Why are you so impatient?" she asked. 

"Because you have such a sensational body and I love seeing you nude." 

"This makes me feel sexy," she replied. "I want to feel sexy a little longer." 

"Okay then." 

Lize replaced her shoulder strap, sat up and eased herself from between my 
legs. I slid down on my back and lifted my hips so she could slip my briefs 
off. She wrapped her fingers around my stiff organ, squeezed it and kissed it. 

From her nightstand she removed a condom. "One more left in the box," she 
remarked. 

"I'll replenish the supply when I go out tomorrow," I replied. 

She removed the condom from its wrapper and unrolled it onto me. Then, throwing 
one leg over me she knelt, straddling my hips. I held my shaft and guided it 
into her. 

Lize rotated her hips. "Mmm... You're in deep like this. Feels good, Ethan." 

I ran my hands along her thighs, pressed my thumb against her mons and worked 
it into her slit. Lize leaned back, supporting herself on her arms. I pressed 
my thumb against her clit and began stroking it. 

"That feels kinda interesting," she said. "Mmm... How long can you do that?" 

"How long will it take?" 

"Not long..." I watched her belly heave as her breathing deepened. "Feels so 
good," she panted, "with you so deep in me... Down a little ... now, a little 
faster... Just like that. Oh!" 

I stroked her clit back-and-forth with my thumb. Her breathing became deep, 
heavy panting. Lize put her hand on her breast and stroked her nipple with her 
thumb, through the sheer, black fabric of her gown. Then, she drew in a deep 
breath, closed her eyes and opened her mouth. "OHHH!" she groaned and her 
thighs jerked. "Stop. Now you can untie it." 

I reached up and tugged on the lace bow. The bodice of her gown separated and 
she slid it off her shoulders. Then, she leaned forward, placed her hands on my 
chest and stroked my nipples. I regarded her in the flickering candle light as 
she began riding me up and down. She was using her whole body, flexing her 
spine, rocking her hips and posting up and down with her thighs; the action 
made her breasts jiggle and bounce. 

Lize continued riding me up and down and stroking my chest. I held onto her 
thighs. "Mmm..." I grunted. "Lize -- I'm close..." She started drawing her 
nails across my nipples. I closed my eyes and grunted as my orgasm exploded in 
my loins. 

She sat back on my hips and thighs with the impeccable posture that made her 
already tall figure statuesque. I lay limp under her as I recovered from my 
climax. Then, I reached between her thighs and held the condom as she lifted 
off of me. 

She leaned toward her nightstand and blew out the candle, then she snuggled 
against me. I caressed her shoulder. "Ethan?" 

"What?" 

"I liked being across your lap. I liked the intimacy." 

"It's a rather submissive posture." 

"Maybe I liked that part of it, too." 

"Well ... I liked having you across my lap." 

"I'd like to try it again." 

"But -- without soapsuds." 

"Yeah... Without soapsuds." 

"The last enema I remember getting from my mom I got over her lap," I said. "I 
was about eight. She used a bulb syringe." 

"A bulb syringe?" 

"Uh-huh. She never used the red bag on me. I still remember the sensations. She 
made the water on the cool side. I remember feeling each surge of coolness deep 
in my pelvis." 

"Oooh... Maybe we could try a bulb syringe." 

"They're reserved for little kids," I replied, "just right for a pint-sized 
enema for a pint-sized patient. They're not practical for an adult." 

"Why not?" 

"Your drugstore enema bulb only holds six ounces. If you're giving a one-pint 
enema to a child, that means three refills. A two-quart adult-sized enema would 
be ten or eleven refills. That many insertions could irritate the delicate 
tissues involved." 

"Oh... Oh, well..." She snuggled against me. "Mmm... This feels so good, Ethan. 
I'm so relaxed..." She kissed my cheek. "Good night, Ethan." 

I felt her body relax as she drowsed and then I closed my eyes. 

I awoke to find myself alone in her bed. The clock on her nightstand read 
seven-thirty. I arose and slipped into my briefs. Lize was in her living room, 
adjusting a scarf. She was wearing a black skirt, white blouse and a black 
blazer. Her bank nameplate was pinned to the lapel. "L Furlow Branch Manager" 
it read. 

"I have to get to work," she said. 

"Do you have thoughts for dinner?" 

"I started something in the crock pot." 

"You started something? What time did you get up?" 

"Same as every day -- five thirty. Feel free to bring something for dessert, if 
you'd like." 

"I will do that." 

She kissed my lips. "Ethan -- thank you for an evening I'll never forget." 

"I was about to say the same." 

She kissed me again. "Gotta go. See you tonight. You'll lock the door behind 
you, won't you?" 

 

Part V

I was folding the handle on the lawn mower before stowing it in the garden shed 
adjacent to the duplex's garage. Lize's blue Ford pulled into the driveway. I 
caught her eye and she waved. 

She parked the car in the garage and opened the trunk. From it she lifted a 
pair of grocery bags. 

I approached her, took one of the bags from her and followed her in to her 
unit. "I fixed the leak in the air conditioner," I said. "The drain line was 
plugged -- some mold or slime or something." 

"Thank you. With this heat and humidity I need to run it. I can't believe you 
mowed the lawn in it. Look at you -- you're soaking wet!" 

"It had to be done. I mopped perspiration from my forehead. "I'm going to take 
a shower, what with the smell of gas fumes and the cut grass. I'll stop over 
this evening and we can figure out dinner. Okay?" 

"Okay." She gave me another wave. 

 

I dried myself and dressed in shorts and a tee shirt. My phone rang and I 
picked it up. "Hello?" 

Hi, it's me, Ethan. 

"Lize, what do you want?" 

Can you come over? 

"Now?" 

Yeah, now. I have something to show you. 

"I'll be right over." 

The door's unlocked. Bye. 

I hung up the phone, slipped my feet into a pair of sandals and walked across 
the porch to the other side of the duplex. "Lize -- is that air conditioner 
still leaking?" 

"No," she called from the bedroom. Then she approached me wearing a green and 
blue tartan miniskirt, its hem cutting across the upper third of her thighs. 
She also wore white socks and a white, short-sleeved blouse. On her feet were a 
pair of black, low-heeled pumps and her wavy, blonde hair was held back with a 
wide, black headband. "Well?" She turned around to model her outfit. "Do you 
like it?" 

"That outfit takes ten years off of you. You look like a high school senior." 

"I was hoping it made me look like an eighth-grader." 

"Eighth-graders don't have boobs like yours." 

"Some of the girls in my eighth-grade class were pretty well endowed," she 
replied. 

"Don't tell me that's an acceptable outfit for the bank." 

"No, silly. I had the blouse. I bought the skirt today -- at the thrift store." 

"The thrift store?" 

"Yes. The new Goodwill store opened across the street from the grocery. I went 
in there on a lark and saw this. It cost me three bucks." 

"Three bucks?" 

"Yeah... I was looking for a prom dress but didn't see anything appropriate." 

"Prom dress?" 

"I never went to prom ... never had a prom night. I thought maybe you and I..." 

"No one invited you to prom? A stunner like you?" 

"I really was rather shy," she said. "I wasn't comfortable around boys my age. 
I made myself unapproachable." 

I nodded. "An ice princess. I know the type. BELIEVE me, I know the type. Did 
you meet Jimmy in high school or later?" I asked. 

"Later." 

"Was he older?" 

Lize regarded me. "Don't press me about him, Ethan. I don't care to know 
anything about your previous love life. Please respect me on this." 

"Fair enough." 

"Jimmy was a mistake. A mistake I regret. Enough said." 

"Understood. It's a dead topic, Lize." I looked into her eyes. "Okay?" 

She smiled. "Okay." 

I scanned her up and down. "You do look sensational. What about the socks? Did 
they come from the thrift store, too?" 

"Oh, I had those. I wear them to work, with pants. Well -- do you like how I 
look in it?" 

"You always look just beautiful, Lize." 

"Do you want to know my inspiration?" 

"What?" I asked. 

She beckoned me to her computer and brought up an image of two young women. One 
was dressed in a white, 1950's era nursing uniform, wearing a cap and with a 
stethoscope around her neck. Face down across her lap, the other wore a shot 
skirt, blouse and ankle socks. Her skit was lifted to expose her naked 
buttocks. The one in the nurse's costume was inserting a bulb syringe into the 
other's bottom. 

"Where did you find that?" I asked. 

"Google Images," she replied. "I saw it and it made me want to try it." 

"Is this what you want to try tonight?" I asked. 

Lize shook her head. "Uhn-uhn. It's what I want to try right now. I can't wait 
'til tonight. Besides -- I thought it might be better to get the enemas out of 
the way before dinner." 

"They can go better on an empty stomach." I headed toward the closet where her 
enema gear was stowed. 

Lize handed something to me. "I want to try using this." 

I regarded a bulb syringe. "Where did you get that?" 

"I ordered it online. It's a ten ounce syringe. I figured, for a one and a half 
quart enema, this would require five or so refills ... only two more than your 
pint enema." 

"You've been planning this for a while..." My jaw dropped. "You ordered it from 
a competitor! I'm a little hurt, Lize. How could you?" 

"He carries ten ounce bulbs and we don't," she replied. "We only carry six and 
eight ounce bulbs." 

"I know..." 

"Maybe we should start carrying these, too." 

"Maybe..." 

"They also carried a twenty-four ounce bulb but I thought that would be a bit 
awkward." 

"A bit..." I turned the object over in my hands, grabbed the attached straight 
enema pipe and wrenched it from the bulb. 

"What are you doing?" Lize asked. 

I took the douche tip from Lize's kit and worked it into the opening on the 
bulb. "I'm exchanging the enema tip for the douche nozzle." I showed her the 
enema tip. "See? The tip is kind of sharp. Those edges can catch tissues in the 
anal canal and injure them. Even though the douche tip is bigger, it's smooth 
and round, and is less likely to do that." 

"Oh..." she replied. 

"The bulbs we sell have rounded tips without sharp edges. Maybe that's why we 
don't carry these." 

"Maybe..." 

I ran water in her kitchen sink to warm it. "Make it like the one you 
described." 

"What did I describe?" 

"You know -- a little on the cool side." 

"Okay..." I adjusted the faucet and tested the water on my wrist. "Feel." 

"Feels warm," she replied. 

"Well -- something can feel warm to your skin but cool to your insides. You can 
sense water that's only a few degrees below body temperature as being cool. I 
think I'm going to dispense with the glycerin and give you a salt-and-soda 
enema." 

"Why?" 

"The cool water can be a bit cramping. No need to make it any more so than 
necessary. This solution is a bit hypertonic..." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means the salt concentration is greater than in your bodily fluids. It'll 
make the enema mildly purgative." I filled the pitcher from the tap and added 
salt and baking soda, stirring it until the solution was clear. "I need a 
large, wide bowl," I said." 

"What for?" 

"To fill the bulb." 

"Oh..." Lize removed a large, stainless steel mixing bowl from a cabinet. 

I found a tray. "We also need some Vaseline. Refilling the bulb could wash away 
water soluble lube." 

Lize produced a jar of petroleum jelly. I found a tray. Onto it I placed the 
bowl, Vaseline, the bulb syringe and my box of examination gloves. "I don't 
have a costume to complement yours," I remarked. 

"That's okay." Lize carried the pitcher into the bedroom. 

"I assume this is a make-good for the over-the-lap soapsuds fiasco?" 

"Think what you like." 

I set the tray on the bed and dumped the contents of the pitcher into the bowl. 
Then, I sat on the corner of her bed, spread a towel across my lap and patted 
my thigh. 

Lize reached under her skirt and slipped her briefs down. She stepped from them 
and picked them up. "Kinda damp," she remarked. "Thinking about this is making 
me so horny..." She knelt near me and then, she lay across my thighs, her 
forearms resting on the floor. She crossed her wrists and rested her forehead 
on them, and she crossed her long, straight legs at her ankles, toes touching 
the floor. "Ready," she said. 

I lifted her hem and caressed her bottom. "You have a mighty fine butt," I 
remarked. "I'm going to lube you -- to make sure this thing slides in easily." 
I slipped an exam glove onto my hand. 

"Why do still use the rubber gloves?" she asked. "Don't we know each other well 
enough by now?" 

"You mean, for me to go in bareback? The reason I use the glove is to prevent a 
sharp nail from injuring you." 

"Oh..." 

I dipped a finger into the jar of Vaseline. Retrieving a glob I coated the tip 
on the bulb with it. From the jar I retrieved another glob and with my left 
hand I spread her cheeks. 

I gazed on her firm, pale buttocks, her left one streaked with a faint, blue 
vein; and I regarded her pinkish-brown pucker and the short, light brown hairs 
from the savanna of her pubic forest that extended into her crevasse. I smeared 
the petroleum jelly onto her and, rocking and rotating my fingertip, I worked 
my way into her opening, making sure her anal canal was thoroughly coated. 

Squeezing the bulb I dipped the tip into the bowl and released it. As the bulb 
expanded it sucked up the enema solution. Pointing the tip to the ceiling I 
squeezed it again to expel the remaining air. When I saw drops of water form in 
the holes of the nozzle I submerged it in the bowl and released the bulb. 

Now charged with a full load I touched the bulbous tip to her opening. "Relax," 
I said. Holding the hem of her skirt against the small of her back with my 
forearm I spread her cheeks. Gently rocking the syringe I eased the nozzle 
through her anal canal, angling the tip to conform to her anatomy, and pushed 
it deeply into her rectum. With a gentle but steady motion I squeezed the bulb, 
collapsing the material onto itself to discharge as much solution as I could 
into her. 

"I feel it," Lize remarked. "It feels like a cool spray deep inside my bottom." 

"You feel cold in your colon more distinctly than warmth," I replied. "That was 
number one. We have at least four more to go." Holding the bulb tight in my 
fist I slipped the nozzle from her bottom and immersed it into the bowl. 
Releasing it I watched as it expanded to its normal size and shape as it took 
on more solution. Again spreading her buttocks with my left hand I touched the 
tip to her orifice and eased it into her. Squeezing the bulb I delivered its 
load into her rectum. 

"I like how this feels," she remarked. "The time it takes to refill the bulb 
gives the water a chance to flow further in. I can feel the coolness moving up 
inside." 

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," I replied. 

"I think I've figured it out." 

"Figured what out?" I asked as I eased the nozzle into her and squirted another 
bulbful into her depths. 

"Why I'm so comfortable with you. I have only vague recollections of my father. 
He was an airline flight attendant who was killed in a plane crash when I was 
about two. After that my mom moved back home with her dad. He was a widower 
himself. My mom tried her best to raise me as a single mother, but it was my 
grandfather who really took care of me. If he told me I needed an enema I 
would've accepted it from me without question." 

"But, he never did." 

"No," she replied, "he never did." 

I filled the bulb again. "Looks like one more after this one," I remarked. "How 
are you doing?" 

"Fine -- I'm starting to feel the fullness. No cramping." 

I eased the nozzle into her rectum and pressed on the bulb. "So -- you 
imprinted on your grandfather." 

"I did. I was kind of a sickly child. I had lots of sore throats and ear 
infections. I had to have tubes put into my ears. It was my grandfather who 
took care of me and comforted me when I was ill. He was so gentle and patient. 
I sense that from you, Ethan. I always was shy around guys my own age -- I 
still am." 

"So, I'm like a grandfather to you?" 

"You're about the age he was when I was little and so sickly." 

I squeezed another bulbful into her. "There's a just a bit left in the bowl..." 
I sucked up as much of the solution as I could, given the shape of the nozzle 
and the curvature of the bowl. Again I touched the tip to her anus. "Relax," I 
said. "You're tensing up." 

"I'm trying to hold it back." 

"Does the enema feel like it wants out?" 

"Not really. I just don't want to leak." 

I pressed the rounded tip against her anus and rocked it back and forth while 
rotating my wrist. I watched it dilate her orifice and its outlet holes 
vanished into her pucker. Once I felt it clear of her anal canal I pointed it 
toward her spine, to align it with the orientation of her rectum, and pushed it 
all the way in. "If I give you some air on this one -- I apologize in 
advance..." Gently I squeezed the bulb, stopping when I sensed I was beginning 
to inject air, and then withdrew it. "Okay -- you're done. See if you can hold 
it for a while. I don't know if this solution will give you cramps or not." 

"I can feel it working," she replied. "It's been real gentle so far. I feel 
fullness but not too much. The cool water is a different sensation." 

"Do you like that sensation?" I asked. 

"Yeah... Maybe not every time." I caressed her buttocks and the backs of her 
thighs. "That feels nice..." 

"Do you like taking an enema like this?" I asked. 

"I do," she replied. "It's intimate and leisurely ... and you are so gentle 
with me." I could see her anus contracting. "Cramp," she said. "Real mild one, 
though. I think I'll go sit on the toilet." She rolled off my lap, stood and 
headed for the bathroom. 

I carried the tray to the kitchen. There I prepared two quarts of normal saline 
and filled the reservoir of her fountain syringe. I set up the collapsible 
stand and hung the bag from it. 

Lize returned from the bathroom. "How did it work out?" I asked. 

"Mmm... It was a really good purge," she replied. "I liked it -- fewer cramps 
than the glycerin." 

"The glycerin gives you cramps?" 

"Sometimes. Never bad ones, though. This one was gentle but thorough and I 
liked how it felt." 

"You're starting to know your colon," I remarked. 

Lize regarded the stand. "Do I still need a rinse?" 

"It was a bit hypertonic," I replied. "A normal saline rinse is always a good 
idea. How do you want it?" Lize placed a pillow on the bed and lay with her 
hips on it. 

"Like this? I liked it like this." 

"Maybe you'd like to try knee-chest," I replied. "It's another classic position 
-- though not one of my favorites. Get on your hands and knees ... now, lower 
you shoulders so your chest is on the mattress." 

"This isn't very comfortable," she remarked. "I don't know what to do with my 
arms." 

"Try extending them back," I suggested. 

"Like this?" Her left cheek and shoulder were on the pillow and her arms and 
hands, palms up, near her sides and thighs. "Still not very comfortable." 

"I always felt comfort was more important than the ideal position," I replied. 
"The theory behind knee-chest is that it puts your colon almost vertically 
upside-down. Try supporting yourself on your elbows and get your shoulders as 
low as possible." 

"Like this?" She shifted her posture so she supported herself on her elbows. 
"This is more comfortable." 

"It's easier to relax if you're comfortable," I replied as I lifted the hem of 
her miniskirt. "Relaxation is essential." I worked a gloved finger into her 
anus, coating her liberally with surgical lube and then slid the nozzle into 
her rectum. I adjusted the height of the stand and opened the clamp. 

"Oooh," she remarked, "I can feel the water rushing up my left side..." 

"This will fill your descending and transverse colon," I replied. "When there's 
about a third left we'll have you go onto your right side. Starting to feel 
full?" 

"A bit... It feels like it's going fast." 

"It is going fast." I closed the clamp. "Now, onto your right side. I'll tend 
to the hose." 

Lize rolled onto her right shoulder and lay on her side, her knees drawn up 
partway and I opened the clamp. She massaged her belly. "Feeling fullness, 
now," she remarked. "My cecum feels pretty bloated." 

"Good. You're done." I retrieved the nozzle from under her skirt. Lize 
palpitated her belly through the fabric of her blouse. "Feel free to go at 
will." 

"I want to hold it for a while." She rolled onto her back, pulled the tails of 
her blouse from her skirt's waistband and lifted them to bare her abdomen. Lize 
pressed her fingers against her belly, following the outline of her colon. 
"Nice and full," she said and looked up at me. "Massage my tummy?" 

I sat on the bed. I could see distinctly the distention in her belly. Using a 
counter-clockwise motion I caressed her abdomen from above her left hip, up, 
across and down to her right. "Mmm," she sighed. "I love feeling your hands on 
me, Ethan. I'd like more but I think it's time to go." She swung her feet to 
the floor and stood. Lize lifted her blouse again and caressed her abdomen. 
"Kinda big," she remarked, admiring her belly in the mirror, and then headed to 
the bathroom. 

"Once you're done in there we can talk about dinner." I put away the equipment 
and folded the towel that I had laid on the bed. 

Lize returned from the bathroom. "I always feel so good after my enemas," she 
remarked and approached me. 

"About dinner..." She put her arms around my neck, lifted up on her toes and 
kissed my lips. "Are you a little horny?" I asked. 

Lize shook her head. "No. Very horny." 

"Me, too... Did receiving the enemas make you horny?" 

"They always do." 

"Anything in particular this time?" 

"Do you mean like being penetrated over and over again?" She kissed my lips. 
"It might have had something to do with it. What about you?" 

"A bulb syringe does give you plenty of anal stimulation. Pushing the nozzle 
into that sexy bottom of yours, over and over again... It was a thrill, Lize. 
Would you do it like that again?" 

"I would. Not every time, but I definitely would do it again." 

"Shall we retire to your chamber?" 

"Ethan... Do you remember high school?" 

"It was quite a few years ago." 

"Was there a girl you wanted to make it with but couldn't because you were too 
shy or she was already taken..." 

"Or, she was out of my league?" I shook my head. "No, there wasn't a single 
girl like that in my school." 

"I thought there must be one in every school." 

"Are you kidding? There were about thirty girls like that." 

"Did they ever wear anything like this?" She swayed her hips. 

"Did they ever! That was the seventies..." 

"Would you like a chance to make up for it?" 

I leaned to kiss her lips. Lize opened her mouth and extended her tongue and we 
kissed long, passionate kisses, each exploring the other's mouth and sharing 
each other's airways. Lize pulled back. "I need to catch my breath," she 
panted. 

We embraced and kissed more. I caressed the small of her back through the 
fabric of her blouse and then reached under her skirt to caress her buttocks. 
Her panties were still lying on her bed. 

Looking into her eyes I put my hand under her hem and caressed the inside of 
her thigh. Moving up I slipped my finger into her slit. She was wet as I 
figured she would be and I helped myself to her juices. Then I began stroking 
her clit. 

Lize's gaze grew vacant. She held me around my shoulders and pressed her head 
against mine, her hair tickling my face. With my left hand I held her tight 
while stroking her with my right, now and then dipping into her juices to keep 
her tissues slick. 

She began panting in my ear and digging her nails into my shoulder blades. 
Lize's thighs twitched with each of my strokes on her clit. Then, she drew in a 
breath, lifted her face and let out a gasping cry. "Oh, stop," she panted. 

"I have always wanted to do that to a hot girl," I said as her breathing 
slowed. 

"Do you think I'm hot enough?" 

"You're the hottest of them all." 

She kissed my lips. "Did you ever do it in the back seat of a car on a lovers' 
lane?" she asked. 

"No. Do you want to go sit in the back of the Oldsmobile? It's kinda hot in the 
garage." 

"Some other time. How about sneaking into your parents' house and doing it on 
the sofa?" 

"I only got as far as second base," I replied. 

Lize led me to her sofa and pushed me onto it. She sat on my thighs, facing me 
and we began kissing. I put my hands on her sides and with my thumbs caressed 
her breasts through the fabric of her blouse and bra. Then, I began unbuttoning 
her blouse. 

"Not all the way," she whispered. 

"Right," I whispered back. "We might need to button it up in a hurry if my 
folks come home." 

I pushed open the fabric. Lize lifted the hem of my tee and ran her hands up 
under it to caress my chest. I began tracing the outline of her bra, sliding my 
finger under the fabric and teasing her nipples. 

Following her back strap I looked for the clasp. "This one hooks in front," she 
said softly. "Just give it half a twist." 

With a twist the clasp released and the cups of her bra fell to her sides. I 
began stroking her breasts and rolling her erect nipples between my thumbs and 
forefingers. 

Lize slid off my lap and stood. She coaxed me to stand; then she unfastened and 
unzipped my shorts, sliding them to the floor. She pulled down my briefs and 
wrapped her hand around my stiff manhood. 

"We don't have a condom," I said. "I'll get one." 

With a sly smile, she reached into the pocket of her skirt and retrieved one. 
Then, she tore open the wrapper and unrolled it onto my member. 

I sat on her sofa. Lize lifted the hem of her skirt and sat on me and I guided 
my shaft to her entrance. She closed her eyes and lifted her face as she 
lowered herself onto my lap and I pushed inside her. We wrapped our arms around 
each other, each caressing the other's back and shoulder blades. Kissing long, 
passionate kisses we began complementary rocking of our hips. 

It was the subtlest and most intimate coitus I had ever experienced. I felt 
closeness and connection to her more strongly than ever. Almost without 
realizing it I was near climax. I increased the vigor of my thrusting and Lize 
responded in kind, making soft murmurs in the back of her throat. 

I grasped her hips. "UHN!" I grunted as I ejaculated. 

Lize smiled and we caressed each other's faces. I traced her full lips and she 
kissed my finger. 

She put her hand to her lips and gasped. "I think I hear a car in the drive," 
she whispered. "Your folks must be home early. Quick!" 

She hopped off me, smoothed her skirt and refastened her bra. I lunged for a 
box of facial tissues on her end table, grabbed one and disposed of the condom 
in it. Then I stood and pulled up my briefs and shorts, and tucked the hem of 
my tee in the waistband. "See?" she whispered. "No one's the wiser." 

"We're still be busted," I said and pointed to the condom wrapper on the end 
table. 

Lize put her hand to her mouth and laughed. "That's why I never tried 
anything," she said. "I never could get away with it." 

I kissed her lips. "I do like your sense of play, Lize. Want to go to The Reef 
for some antipasto?" 

"Mmm... I'd love to." 

"What about afterward?" I asked. "You already had your Saturday enema." 

"And, we had Saturday sex." 

"It was more like an afternoon quickie, don't you think?" 

"Will you be ready for more after dinner?" she asked. 

"Will you?" She smiled broadly and I knew the answer. "I'll put on nicer 
shirt." 

"I'll change, too." 

"Oh, no you won't. You'll come as you are. You look sensational." 

"Is it okay if I put on some clean underwear?" 

"All right. I'll let you do that." 

 

I lay in Lize's bed as the sweet mellowness that comes after spread over me. 
The scent of Lize's pussy lingered in my nostrils and my now flaccid manhood 
was still throbbing. 

Lize snuggled under my arm and twirled a lock of chest hair with her finger. I 
caressed the small of her back and her buttocks. "We were getting looks at The 
Reef," she said. 

"You were getting looks." 

"Doesn't that bother you?" 

I snorted. "Not in the least. Jane Austen wrote that no man objects when 
another man covets his woman. It is she alone who can turn it into torment." 

"You know Jane Austen? I'm impressed." 

"You'll find I'm full of surprises." I nuzzled the top of her head and inhaled 
her scent. 

"Ethan..." 

"What?" 

"I never imagined sex could be so satisfying." She touched my face. "I can tell 
you're an experienced lover. I want to pretend I'm your first and only." 

"You are my first and only ... you, Lize. No one else matters." 

"Ethan... Please ... don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"Please don't ... Don't let me out of your life." 

"I have no intentions to. Did you think I would?" 

"These feelings I have when I'm with you ... they scare me, sometimes ... the 
intensity of them. I don't want to lose you." 

"You'd have to be pretty damned careless to lose me." 

 

Part VI

I signed the receipt and handed it to the driver. The delivery van pulled away. 
I regarded the stack of cartons in my driveway. Picking one up I carried it 
into the house and down into the basement. 

Lize's blue Ford pulled into the driveway. "Ethan," she called. "Let me change. 
I'll carry those for you." 

"I'm perfectly capable," I replied, picking up another box. 

"I don't want you to strain yourself -- after your procedure." 

"It was only a vasectomy, for chrissake," I retorted. "It's not a hernia." 

She dashed into her unit and returned wearing shorts and a tank. Lize picked up 
a carton and carried it into my basement. "I still can't believe you went out 
and got a vasectomy," she said. 

"Well... After that scare with the burst condom -- we were both sweating 
bullets 'til you got your period..." 

"I did take Plan B pills," she replied, "and they only made me moderately 
sick." 

"That's not a viable approach on a regular basis," I replied. "I figured we had 
to do something. Since you can't go on the pill and you can't tolerate an IUD, 
this seemed like the logical solution. Besides -- the procedure was nothing -- 
a poke and a snip and it's done. I should be fully back in action in a few 
days." 

Lize followed me up the stairs and outside. We picked up the last two cartons 
and carried them inside. "New merchandise?" she asked. 

"Indeed. Are you up for a photo shoot?" 

She smiled broadly. "Sure. After dinner? I put some short ribs in the slow 
cooker before work this morning. They should be done -- a few minutes under the 
broiler and dinner will be ready." 

 

I adjusted my tripod. I laid out the items to be photographed. 

Lize stepped in wearing a black, sleeveless dress. Her dark blonde hair fell as 
soft curls around her face. I scanned her up and down. "Wow," I remarked. "You 
look great, Lize." 

"In my LBD?" 

"LBD?" 

"Little black dress." 

"I like how it looks against your fair skin." 

"I've had it for a while but never have an opportunity to wear it." 

"Maybe we should go out some night -- dinner and a show." 

"I wasn't fishing for a night out, Ethan." 

"I know ... but it might be fun." I chortled. "Do you know that with each of 
these shoots you show off a bit more? Last time it was that sleeveless floral 
print. This time you're showing some cleavage. I think you're a bit of an 
exhibitionist." 

She smiled coyly. "Maybe I am. So, what's the first item?" 

I handed it to her. "It's a new retention nozzle." 

"Retention?" 

"Yes..." I pointed to it. "This section inflates..." I attached a syringe to a 
thin tube, pressed the plunger and the nozzle blew up like a small balloon. 
"Once it's in place you inflate the balloon. It seals the rectum and it can't 
pop out." I deflated the nozzle. "Most of these retail for nearly two hundred 
bucks." 

"Two hundred?" she asked, eyes wide. 

"Yep. This one we can sell for a tenth of that." Lize held it for photographs, 
one with it deflated and one with the cuff inflated. For the second photo Lize 
managed to register mock surprise. "You are a born actress," I remarked. 

"Maybe I'd like to try this, sometime," she said. 

"If you'd like. For some procedures the patient needs to hold an enema for an 
extended period of time. Those are particularly useful for retaining barium 
contrast for an X-ray." I returned the device to its box. "They're also popular 
with the BDSM crowd." 

"BDSM?" 

"Yeah... Some use enemas for punishment -- one gives the other an enema 
solution that induces strong cramping and makes the other beg to have the 
nozzle removed." 

"What solution would do that?" 

"Soapsuds ... Epsom salts ... there are any number of recipes." 

"I never thought of it that way," she replied. 

"Personally, I'd never do anything like that. I'm pretty tolerant of kinks ... 
I have some myself. But I never understood how anyone could derive pleasure 
from causing someone else pain." 

"Gee," she remarked, "with your career in law enforcement I'll be you saw your 
share of that behavior." 

"I certainly did see my share ... even though I wasn't a shoe-leather type of 
cop. I mainly stayed in the lab, doing analysis. It doesn't help me understand 
it any better. Here's some other stuff to photograph. Check this out." I held 
up a nozzle shaped like a straight enema pipe but thicker. 

Lize took it from me and examined it. "It looks like a regular enema tip." I 
handed her a standard tip. "It's about twice as thick," she remarked. 

"I call it our magnum enema pipe," I replied. "It's our exclusive. I had them 
custom made. The bore is twice the size of a standard tip." 

"So?" 

"Twice the size means four times the cross-sectional area. That tip will induce 
almost no flow resistance." I took a photo of Lize holding both tips in the 
palm of her hand and another of her squinting down the bores. We took pictures 
of a variety of other nozzles and some new syringes. I packed the items back 
into cartons and set them by the basement door. "I think that's a wrap," I 
said. 

"There's one more picture I want you to take." 

"Okay... Of what?" Lize stood by the drapes and held up the blue marble she had 
expelled. "Why do you want a picture of that?" 

"I have my reasons." 

I snapped the photograph. "I'll transfer these to my laptop and you can have at 
it. I really appreciate the work you've done on the website, Lize. Before it 
looked like it was right out of 1998. Now it looks up-to-date ... and the 
photos we take of you really move the merchandise." 

"Maybe you should open a Facebook page, too," she remarked. 

"Facebook?" I shook my head. "I barely understand websites. Maybe you can 
figure out how to make it work." 

 

I was sitting at my desk when I heard the doorbell ring. Turning around, I 
glanced through the screen door and saw Lize. "It's open," I called. 

She stepped into my unit wearing shorts and a tank. "I am so glad it's Friday," 
she remarked. 

"Shall we call Ling's for carryout." 

"I was in the mood for pizza," she replied. 

"Pizza it is." I leaned back and locked my hands behind my head. "I have twenty 
orders to fill today." 

"Twenty?" 

"Yes -- and, we're sold out of that retention nozzle. I ordered two dozen from 
the manufacturer figuring that would hold us for a while. Next time I'll order 
a hundred of 'em." I brought up my website. "You're getting so much fan mail, 
Lize, I think I'll create your own email address." 

She handed me a flash drive. "Here's something else for the site," she said. "I 
thought you should see it before uploading it." 

I pushed the drive into the slot on my laptop. "Let's see..." my screen showed 
a page featuring the image of Lize holding the marble. 

"It's a little autobiography," she said. "I've been waffling about whether or 
not to show it to you. I decided I should." 

I read through the text in which Lize described her experience and feelings 
when she received her first enema, how expelling the marble had convinced her 
and now how they were part of her routine. 

I let out a low whistle. "This is good, Lize ... very good. It's a story of 
discovery. If we post it -- it's going to open the floodgates." 

"Do you think I should add it to the website?" 

"That's up to you. If you want to, I won't refuse. You do know what's apt to 
happen..." 

"I think I have an idea what will happen." 

"You definitely need a pseudonym," I said. "What's your middle name?" 

"Joan," she replied. "I hate it. That's what kids called me to taunt me and get 
my goat." 

"Hmm... What names do you like?" 

Lize rolled her eyes in thought. "I like Katrina..." 

"You don't look like Katrina to me." 

"What about Janice?" 

I rolled the name over my tongue a couple of times. "I think that works. You 
could pass as Janice. Let me create your own email address. That way all the 
mail you get won't clutter up my inbox. And -- you WILL get mail. 

 

I printed mailing labels. Lize and I affixed them to cartons and stacked them 
by the front door. "United Parcel will be by on Monday for these," I said. 
"Fifteen orders today in addition to the twenty on Friday. Care to go to The 
Reef for dinner?" 

"I'll have their antipasto," she remarked. "Something light before our Saturday 
night enemas. I don't want to make the mistake I made last Saturday." 

"Do you mean when you gorged yourself on lasagna? It's not a good idea to have 
a big enema on a full stomach." 

"As I learned the hard way," she remarked. She sat at my laptop and reviewed 
her email account. 

"How many today?" I asked. 

"Fifteen," she replied. "That bio hasn't been up a full day and I've received 
fifteen emails." She scanned one. "Listen to this... Janice -- I'd love to see 
you using the products you sell." 

"I'm not posting photos of you taking an enema, Lize. I'm not turning my site 
into a porno one. Come on -- let's go get some dinner." 

She sat beside me as I drove the Oldsmobile toward the country inn. "Ethan..." 

"What?" 

"About those photos..." 

"What photos?" 

"Of me having an enema." 

"It's a dead topic, Lize." 

"It wouldn't have to be pornographic -- would it?" 

I regarded her. "Would you really want to do something like that?" 

She shrugged. "You know -- I was really shy in high school and in college. I 
never wanted to draw attention to myself. I think you're right, Ethan. Down 
deep maybe I AM an exhibitionist. I like the attention I'm getting from your 
customers. If we could take tasteful photos..." 

"How tasteful could they be?" 

"How can we know if we don't try? Taking photos is one thing. Posting them is 
something else altogether. We can always delete them if we don't like them." 

I parked my car outside the restaurant. "All right, if you're set on doing 
that." 

 

I set up lights in Lize's bedroom. On her bed she had spread a large bath towel 
and beside it stood the collapsible stand. I set my camera on a chair and then 
headed into her kitchen. There I began running water to warm it. 

Lize approached me in a robe. She picked up a pink latex pouch. "We're using 
this?" she asked. 

"Yes -- it's one of our new products. It's a travel kit. The bag folds up small 
but it holds a full two quarts." 

She examined it. "Open top..." 

"The hose is soft latex and rolls up to fit inside the bag, and it's equipped 
with a nozzle that's suitable for enemas or douching." 

"Who douches anymore these days?" she asked. 

She picked up a nozzle with a bulbous end. "And this? It's new, too -- isn't 
it?" 

"That's called a barium tip." 

"Barium?" 

"For taking X-rays. The barium slurry is pretty thick so the tip has extra-
large holes. The end is shaped so it's less likely to pop out." 

"Like a douche nozzle but smaller." 

"Yep, but with bigger outlet holes." I poured warm saline into the pouch, 
attached the nozzle and flushed air from the tube. "Ready?" 

"Ready." 

Together we walked to her bedroom. Lize slipped out of her robe. Underneath she 
wore her blue and green tartan miniskirt and a floral bikini top. "You look 
good," I remarked. 

"Tasteful?" she asked. 

"We'll see how tasteful the photos turn out." 

"I'm not showing anything I couldn't display on the street." 

"True enough. And, it shows off your tummy ... and your legs. They're among 
your best assets." 

She took the pouch from me. "Take a picture of me holding it," she said. 

I picked up my camera. "Stand by the ... uh, stand," I instructed. She complied 
and I snapped the photograph. "Let's see that nozzle." She held it up by her 
face and I snapped another photo. 

Lize hung the pouch on the stand. She reclined on her bed on her left side and 
drew up her knees. 

I slipped an exam glove onto my right hand and I lifted the hem of her skirt to 
expose her bottom. With my left hand I spread her and with my right I 
thoroughly lubricated her anal canal with surgical gel. Gently I eased the 
nozzle into her rectum and lowered her hem. "Okay," I said, "now Sims 
position." 

Lize straightened her left leg a bit, slipped her left arm behind her and 
rolled halfway onto her stomach. I handed her the hose and she fingered the 
clasp; then I adjusted the hem of her skirt to cover her buttocks. I picked up 
my camera and snapped a photograph from one angle and then from another. 

She opened the clamp and began taking deep breaths through her mouth. I took 
more photos as Lize worked the clamp to modulate the flow. I watched the bag 
deflate as the water level in it dropped. "Time to roll onto your back," I 
said. 

Lize closed the clamp. I guided the hose as she stretched onto her back and 
then I straightened the hem of her skirt.. She reached for the clamp and opened 
it, looking up at the pouch. Then, she began probing her abdomen with her 
fingertips, tracing the outline of her colon. 

I snapped more photographs, making sure to capture an image of the hose leading 
up and underneath the hem of her skirt. "Right side," I instructed. 

She closed the clamp and turned onto her right side, her knees bent. Then she 
opened the clamp and massaged her abdomen as the last of the fluid flowed into 
her. I snapped more photographs. "I'm seeing definite distention in your 
belly," I remarked. 

She stroked and patted her abdomen. "It's getting big," she replied. 

"You're done," I said. "Let me grab the nozzle..." I closed the clamp and 
removed the tip from under her skirt. "Let's take one on your back ... let's 
see how big you got." 

"I think the distention shows best on my right side." 

"I think you're right." I took some photos as Lize lay on her right side, knees 
flexed, and smoothed her hand along her bulging abdomen. She rolled onto her 
back and ran both her hands along her belly; then she stood and admired her 
stomach in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I snapped a 
last photograph of her making a little wave as she stepped into the bathroom. 

I walked to my place next door, retrieved my laptop and powered it up. Lize 
emerged from the bathroom. I picked up my camera. "How about an after shot 
showing off that flat tummy?" I asked. Lize posed before the full-length 
mirror, beaming a smile and running her palms along her abdomen. 

Popping the memory card from my camera I slipped it into the slot on my laptop 
and reviewed the images. "How do they look?" Lize asked, looking over my 
shoulder. "They do show off the new products." 

"That they do." 

I flipped through the images. "Look at that perfect Sims position," I remarked 
and flipped to one of her lying on her back, massaging her belly. "You do look 
like you're enjoying yourself." 

"Looking at these is making me horny," she replied. I flipped to one of her on 
her right side. "Does my belly really look that big?" 

"It does, indeed." 

"I think we should use these," she said. "There's nothing offensive or 
revealing in them." 

"Your fans will be disappointed that you're not nude," I remarked. "Too bad for 
them. Like I said this isn't a porn site. Our biggest problem will be figuring 
out which ones to use. We can't use them all, and they're all good." I turned 
and regarded her. "I think you should set up your own area on the site ... we 
can call it Janice's Corner. You can add these to your story of discovery" 

She bit her lip and nodded. "I'd like to do that. Let me work something up to 
show you. Right now -- I want another enema." 

"I'll get it ready." 

Lize followed me to her kitchen. I ran water in the sink to warm it and 
measured salt into the pitcher. After filling the pouch I carried the apparatus 
to her bedroom and hung it on the stand. 

She slipped out of her bikini top, stepped out of her skirt and reclined on her 
left side. I slipped another glove onto my right hand and began working 
surgical lube into her anus. "Take more pictures?" she asked. 

"You want photos of you, nude?" I asked as I eased the nozzle past her 
sphincter and slid it in place. 

"Just for our use," she replied. "I'd never post them. I want to see how I 
look." 

"Okay..." I loaded the memory card back into my camera and switched on the 
lights. Lize lay on her back, her long legs stretched and her hands behind her 
head. I snapped a photograph. "Spread your legs so we can see the nozzle going 
in." 

She bent her knees and let them fall to the sides. I snapped a photo. 

"You know," she remarked, "it's too bad you can't take pictures and get me off 
at the same time. That's what I'm really in the mood for -- an enema orgasm." 

"Get yourself off," I replied. 

"You're suggesting I masturbate on camera? I'd be too self-conscious." 

"And, you're not too self-conscious taking an enema on camera?" 

"It's not the same." 

"Only in degree," I remarked. "You wouldn't happen to own a vibrator, would 
you?" 

She regarded me for a long moment. "Dresser, bottom drawer ... under the stack 
of sweaters." 

I opened the drawer and retrieved a box. From it I took a long, slender object 
the diameter of my thumb. It was made of smooth plastic and came to a rounded 
point. The device was white with purple spots, with a black knob on the end. 
"Are the batteries good?" I asked. 

"Gimme..." I handed the device to her and she switched it on. "Seems to work." 

Lize grabbed the hose and opened the clamp. I snapped photographs as she 
stroked her belly. The water level in the travel pouch dropped as it flowed 
into her rectum. 

She placed one hand on her chest and began stroking her nipples with her thumb 
and fingers, alternating from side to side while she caressed her belly with 
the other. I snapped more photos and I could discern slight but definite 
swelling in her abdomen. 

Lize switched on the vibrator and held it between her labia, pressing its shaft 
against her clit. "I have to start gentle," she remarked. "The vibrations 
aren't as intense..." The tip buzzed against the hard plastic enema nozzle and 
her eyes popped. "Wow! That was quite a sensation." 

"What's that?" I asked. 

"The nozzle transmitted the vibrations through my butt." 

"Did that feel good?" 

"It felt different..." She glanced at the now drained pouch and caressed her 
visibly swollen belly. "Starting to feel really good," she said and moved the 
vibrator up so its tip pressed against her clit. 

I snapped more photographs. Lize's eyes drifted half-way closed and her jaw 
dropped. Her lips parted and her breathing grew deeper. "Oh, feels good... Mmm 
... mmm..." 

I could see her thighs tremble as she held the device against her slit. Lize 
caressed her stomach and stroked her fleshy, erect nipples. I snapped more 
photographs. 

"Ethan," she panted, "I'm gonna come now ... I'm gonna come!" I pressed the 
shutter button. Lize's body shook. "Ahhh!" she gasped. "AHHHH!" I took photos 
as quickly as the camera would respond. 

She lifted the vibrator from between her legs and rolled onto her right side, 
her hand covering her vulva. "Oh, God, that felt good," she panted. 

I closed the clamp and retrieved the nozzle from her anus. Lize rolled off the 
bed and stood by the mirror. "I think I'm bigger than last time." 

"You might've had some of the first enema still in you." 

"Maybe ... I felt empty, though." She headed into the bathroom. 

I loaded the memory card into my laptop and began reviewing the images. I let 
out a low whistle as I flipped through them. 

Lize stepped from the bathroom. "The second always comes out in long gushes," 
she remarked. "I can feel my tummy shrinking and it feels soooo good." 

"These pictures are hot," I remarked. 

She looked over my shoulder as I flipped through them again. "That is one 
sensual enema," I remarked. "Look at this one ... the bag is empty, your belly 
is full and you're off in la-la land ... and look at this O-face." 

Lize gripped my shoulder. "God, these are making me horny all over again. I do 
look sexy, don't I?" 

"You don't look sexy. You look incredibly sexy. I was afraid I was going to 
come in my pants watching you." I stood and faced her. 

She pressed her hand against my fly and whistled. "Are you ready after your 
procedure?" 

"Ready, willing and able..." 

"This is a first for me," she said. "First time ever without a condom." 

"I am certified sperm-free," I replied. 

Lize began unbuttoning my shirt. I unhitched my belt and stepped from my 
khakis. She turned down the covers, slid into bed and I joined her. She threw 
her arms around my shoulders and covered my face with kisses. I kissed her 
lips. She drew my tongue into her mouth and caressed it with her lips. "Ethan -
- am I nuts to be turned on this way?" 

"You're not nuts. You're discovering something about yourself." I held her 
breasts, stroked them and kissed her nipples. I rimmed her wide, tan areolas 
with my tongue and drew her flesh into my mouth. She held my head tightly 
against her chest as I nursed, tasting her skin and savoring her textures. 

"Other side," she panted and rolled onto her back. I held her around her 
shoulder blades and tongued her right breast. With my left hand I explored 
between her labia and began stroking her clit, engorged and firm. 

Lize dug her nails into my skin as I stroked her. She began panting and her 
legs quivered. "I'm gonna come again," she gasped. "More ... MORE!" 

I increased the cadence of my stroking. Lize drew in a breath and released it 
as a moan. I lifted my hand from her mons and she peppered my cheeks with 
kisses. 

Then, I knelt with one knee between her thighs. Reaching down I slipped two 
fingers into her vagina, pressed my thumb against her clit and began thrusting. 
Her eyes widened and she began gasping, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" with each of my thrusts. 
Lize held me around my neck and drew my lips to hers. I pressed my mouth to 
hers and breathed her air. 

Lize groaned and rolled onto her side, clutching between her thighs. "Oh, God! 
she panted and laughed. "That was intense!" 

I lay beside her and we traded kisses. "Are you ready for me" she asked. 

"Are you ready for me?" 

"Never been readier. How do you want me?" 

"How do you want me?" I asked. Lize grasped her legs behind her knees, drew 
them back and held them. I regarded her pussy and below it her pinkish-brown 
anus. "Lize -- ever do anal?" 

"No. You?" 

"No. Ever want to?" 

"Never even thought about it." 

"Wanna try it?" 

"With you, Ethan -- only with you, if that's what you want." 

"That little pucker of yours is just irresistible. And, I have some curiosity." 

"I figured this day would come," she said. "I suspected all those nozzles are 
surrogates for your dick. It's all right, Ethan. I like the attention back 
there. I do have some curiosity myself." 

"So, if you're game..." I grabbed the tube of lube and squeezed a big blob on 
my finger. "They say too much lube is almost enough," I remarked as I worked it 
into her orifice, driving my finger into her rectum past the second knuckle. 
"Relax your bottom," I instructed as I stacked my first and middle fingers and 
slipped them both in and watched as her anus dilated to accept them. 

Then I smeared lube on my shaft and knelt, touching my glans to her pucker. 
"Bear down a bit -- that should help you open up. 

Lize drew in a breath, held it and closed her eyes. Her sphincter contracted 
but then began to swell and her orifice dilated. My heart pounding with 
anticipation I pressed against it and slid in, glans deep. "Tell me if it 
hurts," I said. 

"Oh, rest assured." 

"Going in a little deeper." I watched my shaft disappear into her pinkish-brown 
pucker. The sensation of penetrating her rectum was indescribable -- much 
tighter than her front door; and her tissues enveloping me were soft like moist 
velvet. I was in about halfway and stopped. "Are you okay?" I asked. 

"I feel you," she said. "You feel big inside me ... but it doesn't hurt." 

"I'll go in further." Watching her face for any sign of distress I gently 
pushed all the way into her and then stretched my legs so I was lying atop her, 
supporting myself on my elbows. Lize let go of her legs and wrapped them around 
the small of my back. "This is a thrill," I said. "I didn't think I had any 
virginity left to lose ... but I lost it tonight. How does it feel to you?" 

"Like something big is in my rectum," she replied. 

"Does this do anything for you?" I asked. 

"I do like the intimacy. I like pleasing you, Ethan. I like feeling your 
arousal. I don't think there's any way I could have an orgasm from this." 

"No?" 

"The sensations that enemas give me are deep in my belly," she said. "I find 
those arousing -- not something in my bottom. It's okay, Ethan. Go ahead -- 
have yours. I've had mine." 

I began the gentlest thrusting I could perform, pushing in slowly and drawing 
back more sharply to take my friction. Lize placed her palms on my sides and 
ran her thumbs across my nipples. I could feel my arousal building and soon was 
on the verge of a climax. 

Lize ran her nails across my nipples. Pressing my hips against hers I grunted 
as I pumped my fluids into her. 

"I felt that," she said. "I could feel you getting bigger and harder and then I 
felt you squirting into me. I felt it much more distinctly than usual." 

My erection was fading. Lize lifted her legs and I eased out of her. "You 
should see yourself," I said. "I can look right into your rectum." 

"What's it look like?" 

"Ruby red inside." 

"I would like to see that." 

"I'm sure you'll go back to normal in no time." 

"I'm sure." 

She cuddled against me and I held her tight. "So," I asked. "Would you try that 
again?" 

"Mmm... Once in a while if its something you like. Sex is like food. We don't 
all like the same things. The fact that I don't like asparagus is no reason not 
to have it now and then if you like it." 

"Maybe we can work on ways for you to enjoy it more," I replied. "We need to do 
some experimenting." 

"Another destination in my journey of discovery," she said. 

"Our journey," I replied. "Remember, just because I like asparagus doesn't mean 
I want it at every meal." 

Lize tightened her grip on me. I ran my hand along her buttocks and let my 
finger slip into her crevasse, sliding it across the crinkly skin of her anus. 
"You feel mostly back to normal already," I remarked. 

"You should know. You know it better than I do." I felt her body relax and her 
breathing slow. Her lips parted and she began breathing regularly through her 
nose and mouth. Her legs twitched against mine. 

I switched off the lamp on the nightstand, kissed her forehead and closed my 
eyes. 

 

Part VII

"There," Lize said as she manipulated the keyboard on her laptop. "Our site is 
up and running on the new server. We'll be paying more but getting more 
bandwidth. And, now we can accept credit cards directly without resorting to 
Pay Pal." 

"It's amazing," I remarked. "So much of our success is due to you, Lize." 

She made a demure smile. "Think what you like. I believe it's a combination of 
good products, good service and good marketing." 

"The basement is full of inventory. Have you thought about my suggestion?" 

"Which suggestion?" 

"Don't play dumb, Lize. I know you're not." 

"Do you mean the one about the two of us living in one unit and dedicating the 
other one to the business?" 

"That is exactly the one I mean." 

She drew in a breath and released it slowly. "Ethan... I think that's where 
we're headed. I'm not quite ready." 

"When will you be ready?" 

"I don't know. I'm still gun-shy. I need a safe place." 

"If you need a sanctuary, we can make a safe room for you -- keep a bed in it." 

"You told me I set the pace, Ethan." 

"Yes, I said that." 

"When I'm ready -- you'll be the first to know." She began reviewing her inbox. 

"More fan mail?" I asked. "Do you answer them all?" 

"I answer as many as I can. Of course some are off the wall, and others are 
begging for pictures of me naked..." 

"You KNEW that would happen." 

"Yeah, I knew it would happen." 

"You haven't ... accommodated any requests..." 

"Of course not. I know once something like that gets loose on the net, there's 
no clawing it back." 

"I'm relieved," I replied. 

"Give the girl some credit, will you? If it is someone's sincere 
correspondence, then I believe they deserve the courtesy of a reply. On the 
other hand..." She opened a message and her jaw dropped. 

"Off the wall?" 

"Well... Sorta. Take a look." 

I read the message. Hello, Janice. My name is Erica and I've recently become a 
customer of yours. When I saw the shipping label I realized that we're local. 
Janice, I read your story of how you discovered enemas and what an important 
part of your life they have become. Your story about the marble is classic. I 
especially enjoyed the photos of your enema, Janice. Without a doubt that was 
the real thing and you looked so sweet and adorable with your filled-up tummy. 
You didn't say, but have you discovered an enema's erotic potential? 

I looked up at her. "You have," I remarked, "but you haven't mentioned that 
aspect on our website." 

"I figured it was no one else's business," she replied. 

I returned to the email. If you'd like to experience a truly erotic enema, I 
would be more than happy to oblige. I am a licensed practical nurse with years 
of experience administering enemas, and I find them intensely erotic -- both 
giving and receiving them. I'd love to meet you in person, Janice. I'll bet 
we'd really click. Attached to the email was an image of a woman in her late 
thirties or early forties. She had shoulder-length chestnut hair with wide, 
light blonde streaks. She was wearing a dominatrix costume -- a black leather 
bustier, fishnet stockings and had on an old-style nurse's headgear. She was 
holding a black, large-volume enema bag, its hose fitted with a black douche 
nozzle. Scrawled along the bottom of the photo was "Mistress Erica". 

"Whew," I remarked. "Do you get many like this?" 

"I get my share. What's spooky is -- she's local. I'll bet she's even driven 
past the house." 

"I use a box at the local UPS store as a return address," I replied. "I know 
better than to divulge our street address." I regarded the image. "That looks 
like one of our oversized syringes she's holding... Hmm..." 

"Hmm what?" she asked. 

"I wonder if she has a website." I manipulated her laptop and entered Mistress 
Erica into a Google search. "Nothing... Let's try Back Page." I worked her 
keyboard. "Look at that..." I regarded the page that came back. "She runs a 
dungeon. Not only does Mistress Erica offer your standard BDSM fare, she also 
services the medical fetish community." I read from the page. "'Bi-sexual, 
experienced dominatrix accepting clients of all orientations' ... diaper fetish 
... enemas ... along with the usual fare." 

"Isn't what she's doing prostitution?" Lize asked. 

"It would be if real sex were involved. Charging someone to become aroused 
isn't a crime -- otherwise, R- and X- rated films would be illegal." 

"So, it's your belief she's not offering sexual services." 

"Not for an instant. The difficulty is proving it. She's like massage parlors 
offering happy endings. It's the greedy or careless ones who get busted. I'm 
sure she's experienced in how to avoid prosecution. She no doubt is discreet 
about to whom she offers her enhanced services." 

"My God," Lize exclaimed, "what if she were to come into the bank and recognize 
me?" 

"You'd recognize her -- that hair of hers is hard to miss. Seems to me it'd be 
a horse apiece." I regarded Lize. "So -- are you going to answer her?" 

"No way. I find the enemas you administer to be plenty erotic. But..." 

"But what?" 

"I've never been drawn to other women, Ethan. I don't have any latent gay 
tendencies ... but..." 

"But what?" 

"Something about this photograph ... her website ... intrigues me. I wonder 
what one of Mistress Erica's enemas would be like." 

"Only one way to find out," I replied. 

"No. I'm not gonna. But..." 

"But what?" 

"Would there be a way to incorporate some aspect of this in our enema play?" 

"I don't give punishment enemas," I replied. 

"What, exactly, is a punishment enema?" she asked. 

"It's what it sounds like -- one intended to humiliate or cause pain or intense 
discomfort -- or, both. I don't like the notion of deliberately inflicting 
pain. Besides -- punishment enemas truly can abuse the colon." 

"Abuse? How?" 

"Formulas that induce intense cramping -- strong soapsuds, for example ... 
Epsom salts ... the infamous vinegar-and-soda enema." 

"What's that?" 

"Vinegar and baking soda delivered separately. They mix in the colon, react to 
generate copious amounts of gas and resulting in intense cramping. If you think 
your tummy gets big with plain water..." 

"I get the picture. I don't like feeling pain, either," she replied. "I just 
thought ... you know..." 

"No I don't know." 

"You know," she said shyly, "the domination part." 

"I always thought lovers should regard each other as equals," I replied. 
"Humans make love face-to-face. It elevates us above the animals. Why would you 
want..." 

"Out of curiosity," she answered. "Variety is the spice of life." 

"It's the spice of sex, too. It wasn't too long ago we tried anal for the first 
time..." 

"You said you were curious about that," she noted. 

"Yes, and we accommodated my curiosity..." I nodded and stroked my chin. "Let 
me think about it." 

 

I drove toward the duplex with Lize in the passenger seat. "The Reef makes the 
best antipasto, don't you think?" 

"Perfect on a Saturday night," Lize replied. 

"You're quiet tonight." 

"I'm thinking about what's to come next. You haven't told me what you have 
planned." 

"I want it to be a surprise." 

"What would you like me to wear?" she asked. 

"Nothing. Enemas are best taken in the nude." I drove a bit further. "If we're 
going to engage in any sort of rough play, we should agree on a safeword." 

"Tallahassee," she replied. 

"Tallahassee?" 

"For some reason the word came into my head." 

"You know, if you say the safeword, everything stops. No questions, no 
arguments, no guilt, no fault. Dead stop. Understood? 

She nodded. "Understood." 

I pulled into the driveway and opened the garage door using the remote control. 
Lize unlocked the door to her unit and I followed her inside. "I'll go change 
... into nothing," she said. 

"I have some supplies next door. Be right back." 

I returned with a paper bag. From her closet I removed the box containing her 
enema gear and began running water in the sink. Measuring three pints of warm 
water I poured this into the bag and added a teaspoon of unscented liquid 
castile soap. Then I attached one of our exclusive magnum enema pipes. 

After flushing air from the hose I carried the apparatus to her bedroom. Lize 
stood in her white satin robe. I set up the stand and hung the bag on it. 

"What position?" Lize asked. "Over your lap?" 

"Let's try the floor," I replied and tossed a pillow at her feet. Lize stripped 
off her robe and knelt, nude, on her hands and knees. "Try getting into knee-
chest," I said. 

Lize crouched on her knees and elbows and then lowered her shoulders. "Like 
this?" 

"True knee-chest." 

She lowered her shoulders further. "I don't know what to do with my arms," she 
said. 

"Put them behind you." 

She rested her face and right shoulder on the pillow. "Like this?" 

"Perfect..." I reached into my pocket. In one smooth motion, I grasped her 
hands, drew them back and, using my sheriff's issued handcuffs bound her wrists 
behind her knees. 

"Ethan," Lize complained. "This isn't very comfortable." 

"I'm sure it isn't." I smoothed my palm along her buttocks. "It is a great view 
of your bottom, though." I slipped on an exam glove, spread her cheeks and 
worked surgical lube into her anus. "Ethan!" Lize protested. I eased the nozzle 
into her bottom. "What are you using? It feels different." 

"It's one of our magnum pipes," I replied and opened the clamp. Holding the 
nozzle in her bottom with one hand, with the other I lifted the bag from the 
stand and held it up high." Use your breathing to control any cramping," I 
advised. "It's coming fast." 

Lize opened her mouth and took deep breaths. "What's in this one?" she asked. 

"Soapsuds," I replied. 

"Ethan -- I thought we agreed not to use soapsuds, after my last experience." 

"This isn't Ivory -- it's liquid castile -- a teaspoon in a quart and a half of 
water. That's less than half the normal dose -- and many folks use more than 
that." 

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. 

"I wanted you to have an inkling of what Mistress Erica's punishment enemas 
might be like. Don't tell me you're going to chicken out now and use the 
safeword." 

"No," she replied weakly. 

I watched the bag deflate. Once its contents were discharged I closed the clamp 
and pulled the nozzle from her. "Enema's all in -- probably in record time. 
Let's see how long you can hold this one." 

Lize fell over onto her right side, still hog-tied with the handcuffs. "I'm 
feeling the soap," she whimpered. "Can't I go?" 

"Hold it a little longer," I replied. "Think about what it would be like to be 
holding a full-strength soapsuds enema -- or worse, something designed to 
induce some serious cramping -- and your dom won't release you or let you go." 

"Ethan..." 

"Some of the punishment solutions I've seen can induce colitis that lasts for 
days. Maybe he stuffs a butt plug into you so no matter how bad the cramping 
there's no relief." 

"Ethan ... please... I need to go!" 

"Let's say he adds some humiliation to the mix and keeps you like this until 
the cramping is so intense you lose control of your sphincter and have an 
involuntary, explosive expulsion all over the floor. Or, maybe he slaps a 
diaper on you and then scolds and berates you for soiling it. Sound like fun? 
Does it arouse you?" 

"No," she replied, her voice trembling. "Not in the least." 

"Well ... some folks think it's erotic. And, some folks think inflicting that 
on another is powerfully arousing." I reached into my pocket and withdrew the 
handcuff key. "But -- I'm not one of them." I unlocked the cuffs and released 
her wrists from the them. Lize got onto her hands and knees and then stood, 
facing me. 

Her lips moved without forming words. "Ethan," she finally said, "I think in a 
perverse way you reinforced your care for me ... and my trust in you." 

"How so?" 

"You'd never do anything to really hurt me or cause me pain." 

"That's right. I'd rather die, first." I regarded her. "I thought you said you 
needed to go." 

"Right..." Lize headed for the bathroom. I used the time to undress and slip 
into a flannel bathrobe. In the kitchen I prepared two quarts of mild saline, 
poured it into the bag and affixed the cap and hose. I ran another pint into 
the pitcher, set the red bag on the floor and led the end of the hose into the 
pitcher. Then, I stepped on the bag to force air out. It bubbled up in the 
pitcher from the end of the hose. Lifting my foot the water in the pitcher 
started siphoning down into the bag, and its sides bulged from the extra 
volume. When the pitcher was empty I clamped the hose. 

From a box I removed a foot-long, amber nozzle with two fittings. The larger 
fitting received the hose from the enema bag and onto the smaller one I 
attached a short length of thin, vinyl tubing. I carried the apparatus to her 
bedroom and hung it on the stand. 

I placed the nozzle in the fold of a towel, along with a large, plunger-style 
syringe and then covered them. Opening her dresser I rummaged through her 
sweaters until I found the box containing her vibrator. This I slipped under 
one of the pillows. Next, I took two lengths of soft, nylon rope and ran the 
ends under the bed. Finally I dimmed the lights and lit candles on her 
nightstand and dresser. 

She returned from the bathroom, her palms on her abdomen. "How did it go?" I 
asked. 

"Not bad ... much milder than my last experience with soapsuds. It was thorough 
but not gut-wrenching -- a really good purge." 

"Good." 

"I might try it again ... only without handcuffs." Lize followed me to her 
bedroom and regarded my preparations. "It looks like you have something special 
planned for the second one," she remarked. 

"We'll see." 

"How do you want me?" 

"On your back ... let's put this under your butt." I placed a plump pillow 
covered with a towel on the mattress. Lize lay on her back, her hips elevated. 
"Are you warm enough?" 

"I'm comfortable," she replied. 

"Good..." I knelt by the bed, grabbed an end of one of the ropes and secured it 
around her right wrist. 

"What's this?" she asked. 

"It's some soft nylon rope," I replied. Traversing to the other side of the bed 
I secured her left wrist. "It shouldn't chafe or irritate your skin." I began 
securing her left ankle. 

"Ethan -- what are you doing?" 

"You said there was something in your makeup that enjoyed the submissive aspect 
of an over-the-knee enema," I said. "This is the ultimate submission, don't you 
think? I'm not going to blindfold you, though..." I secured her right ankle. 

Lize lay with her arms outstretched and her legs spread. "Is that too tight?" I 
asked. 

She attempted to lift her arms and legs. "Not too tight..." 

I regarded her, tied and lying nude and spread-eagle on her bed. "Now -- you 
have no choice but to let me have my way with you..." I leaned over and covered 
her breasts and belly with soft kisses. 

Lize giggled. "That tickles... You're not going to tickle me, are you?" 

"No..." I donned an exam glove. "I'm not..." I squeezed surgical lube onto my 
finger. Spreading her buttocks with my left hand I coated her pucker with the 
slick gel and worked some deep into her rectum. From under the towel I withdrew 
the retention nozzle and began coating it with lube. 

Lize's sightline focused on what I was holding. "Is that one of those nozzles?" 
she asked, "with the balloon?" 

"It is indeed," I replied. "You said you wanted to try one. Now seemed the 
perfect opportunity." With my left hand I spread her again and touched the 
nozzle's tip to her orifice. "Relax," I said. "This is probably thicker than 
anything you've experienced so far ... except, perhaps, for yours truly." I 
rocked the tip. Her sphincter relaxed and began to admit the nozzle and I slid 
it into her. Once clear of her anal canal I angled it parallel to her tailbone 
and pushed it deep into her rectum, far enough so the inflatable cuff was well 
within her rectal cavity. 

I picked up the syringe and pulled back on the plunger. Lize's eyes were wide 
as I attached it to the thin, vinyl tubing. "What's in that?" she asked. 

"Air. It's a one hundred CC balloon and this syringe holds one hundred CCs." I 
slowly pressed on the plunger. 

"I feel it expanding inside me," she exclaimed. "What an odd sensation!" 

The plunger fully depressed I closed the vinyl tube with a slide clamp, 
disconnected the syringe and set it on the nightstand. "I'll give you a few 
moments to get used to it." Gently I tugged on the nozzle. "Nope -- that bad 
boy's not going anywhere." 

Turning to the stand I adjusted its height. She regarded the bulging red bag I 
was hanging from it. "How much is in that?" she asked. "It looks bigger than 
usual." 

"Five pints," I replied. "Two and a half quarts." 

"The bag only holds two," she replied. "How..." 

"I siphoned another pint into it," I replied. "I put the bag on the floor and 
put the hose into the pitcher ... let it fill by gravity. The bag stretches. 
Actually, it's one thing I like about these Faultless combo sets -- you can 
overfill them. You actually can get three quarts into one of these without any 
trouble." 

I opened the clamp and stopped it down a couple of notches. "We'll set it for a 
nice, slow filling." 

I began caressing Lize's body, smoothing my palms along her slender arms, down 
her sides and stroking her abdomen. I pressed my fingers against her belly. 
"Feels pretty empty and flat," I remarked. "Not for long..." I ran my hand 
along her leg, from her ankle past her knee and up her thigh. 

I watched the bag deflate. Deliberately I had stopped down the clamp so the 
flow would be so slow Lize wouldn't feel it -- she'd only feel the sensation of 
fullness as the enema proceeded. 

I ran my fingers along her belly from her hipbones to her ribcage. The bag was 
half-empty and I could begin to feel the fullness in her abdomen. "Feel good?" 
I asked. 

"Mmm... Starting to feel full." 

"Bag's only about half-empty ... or half-full if you're an optimist like me..." 
I looked at the placid expression on her face. "You're enjoying this -- aren't 
you?" 

"Mmm..." She drew in a breath and smiled. "Much more than the first one," she 
replied. 

More of the enema flowed into her -- the bag was down about three quarters. 
When we started, Lize's belly had been flat enough to land an airplane on it. 
Now I could see a bulge from her ribcage to her mons; and, the outline of her 
colon I could feel through her abdominal wall. 

"Feeling really full," she said. I put my palms against her sides and could 
feel the fullness. 

The bag emptied and I closed the clamp. Again I ran my fingers from her hips to 
her ribs,her abdomen now firm from the enema distending her colon. "Is this 
arousing?" I asked. 

"Uh-huh," she replied. "I like the warmth and fullness. I like feeling your 
hands on my stomach ... very arousing." 

"How about this?" I began running my fingers across her areolas. Her nipples 
responded promptly by becoming firmly erect. 

"Mmm ... mmm ... mmm..." Lize sang as I fondled her nipples. Placing both hands 
on her breasts I began massaging them, caressing them and squeezing her 
areolas. "Feels nice," she said. 

I ran my fingers along her slit. She was very damp and I worked some of her 
juices onto her clit, her glans hard as a pebble. Lize started to reach for me 
but was restrained by the ropes. She fell back onto the mattress. 

I continued stroking her clit while caressing her stomach and fondling her 
breasts. "You're teasing me," she said. "I get close to coming and you change 
it." 

"I'm the one who decides when you come," I replied. "How's that tummy feel?" 

"God, I feel so full," she said. "This is more than I've ever taken." 

"Any discomfort?" I asked. 

"No, not really -- just very, very full..." 

"The secret is going slowly." I pressed my palms against her sides, then I felt 
along the outline of her colon. I felt a bulge between her mons and left hip 
that was her sigmoid. Up along her left side was her descending colon, and 
across her belly, her transverse I smoothed my hand across her abdomen above 
her navel and I could feel the structures distinctly beneath her flesh. On her 
right side I felt her cecum, inflated and the size of a softball. 

"Definitely one full Lize," I remarked. 

"I'm not sure I got rid of all of the first one," she replied. 

"That can happen." I reached under the pillow, retrieved the vibrator and 
showed it to her. 

Her eyes popped. "What are you going to do with that?" 

"I thought I'd use it on you." I twisted the knob on the end and the device 
began buzzing. Working the rounded point between her labia I rested it against 
her clit. 

Lize jerked and attempted to grab it but again the ropes restrained her. "Too 
much!" she gasped. I lightened the device's touch. With my left hand I caressed 
her belly and squeezed her nipples. Her ribs and belly heaved and I pressed the 
tip more firmly against her glans. 

"MMMmmm..." Lize let out a warbling moan, then drew in a breath and groaned. 
Her legs shook and she flailed her arms but was unable to move or roll over. 

She let out a yelp, clenched her jaw and the drew in a gasping breath. 
"AAAAHH!" she wailed, her thighs shaking and her belly jerking. 

"Did you come?" 

"YES!" she gasped. Her legs shook again and her belly jerked. "ETHAN!" she 
shouted. "It's too much! Stop! I don't want to have an accident!" 

"I dare say," I replied, "with that retention nozzle inflated -- it's 
physically IMPOSSIBLE for you to have an accident." 

"Ethan! Don't! Stop!" she protested. 

"Don't stop? Is that what you said? Remember -- you asked for it." I pressed 
the vibrating tip hard against her clitoral shaft. 

Lize gasped, drew in a breath, closed her eyes and grimaced. The muscles in her 
thighs trembled. She exhaled a hoarse groan and then drew in another breath. 
More orgasms washed over her. She alternated panting, gasping and crying out, 
her face turning beet red and perspiration beading on her forehead. Veins in 
her neck and forehead protruded and the flush spread to her upper chest. She 
flailed to sit up but was restrained by the ropes and fell back onto the 
mattress. 

I lifted the vibrator from her. Lize panted and began regaining her breath. 
Then, I spread her labia and drove the device deeply into her vagina. Watching 
her face I slowly withdrew it until her thighs began to quiver. This, I 
figured, was the right spot. Kneeling between her legs I held the device in 
place with my knee. 

Massaging her mons and lower belly with my left hand I pressed my right thumb 
against her clit and began stroking it. Lize again attempted to sit, fell back 
and panted. She lifted her face and made a long, warbling cry, then gasped and 
moaned again. The flush that had started to fade from her face and neck 
returned, redder than before. Thin, wet lines formed from the corners of her 
eyes and streamed down her cheeks. 

She tried to work free, twisting her torso, kicking and jerking but to no 
avail. Her ribs and belly heaving she panted through wide-open mouth and 
screamed as another orgasm washed over her. 

I removed the vibrator and switched it off. Lize panted and looked up at me 
imploringly. "Now what?" she panted. 

I stood, stripped off my robe and then climbed onto the bed. Kneeling between 
her thighs I lifted her buttocks and positioned her. Then, I pushed my firmly 
erect shaft into her. She felt very tight, almost as tight as her back door, no 
doubt from the enema and the retention cuff inflating her rectum and 
compressing her vagina. 

Lize's eyes widened. She rolled them upward and gasped. I surveyed my domain -- 
her labia spread and my shaft embedded in her vagina, her full, natural bush, 
and her abdomen distended from the enema. I could see the gothic arch of her 
ribcage, and her ribs and breasts moving with her breathing. Placing my hands 
on her belly I savored the full firmness of it and teased her navel with my 
finger. Then, I began rocking my hips, languidly at first and enjoying the 
visuals. As my arousal built I wanted more friction so I increased the force 
and cadence of my rocking. 

I grasped her buttocks, pushing and pulling them, grunting as I increased the 
vigor of my thrusts. Soon my climax was upon me. I pushed against her and 
groaned as I squirted my fluids into her. 

Spent, I eased back onto my heels to catch my breath. Picking up the end of the 
towel she lay upon, I cleaned myself and dabbed it between her legs. Then, 
climbing off the bed I covered her belly and shoulders with soft kisses. I 
approached her to kiss her lips but she turned her face from me. "Do you need 
to go?" I asked. 

"Yes," she replied, tartly. "What do you think?" 

I untied her right wrist. Lize sat up, pulled the rope from under the bed and 
began untying her left arm. I freed her ankles. She reached for the nozzle. 
"Not so fast," I said. "I have to deflate the balloon first." I picked up the 
large syringe, reattached it and released the clamp. By retracting the plunger 
I sucked air out of the device to deflate the cuff. Gently I eased the nozzle 
from her rectum. She swung her feet to the floor and, lower lip trembling, 
trotted toward the bathroom. I thought I heard sobbing. 

Regarding the closed bathroom door, I had a sinking feeling in my gut. Shit, I 
thought, I really might have gone too far this time. I heard more sobbing. "God 
fucking damn it!" I muttered as I began taking apart the apparatus, washing the 
enema tip and putting away her equipment. 

The bathroom door opened. Lize stood in the doorway. Her eyes were red, her 
cheeks moist and she was sniffling. I approached her. "I'm sorry," I started to 
say. 

"Oh, Ethan!" Lize lunged at me, threw her arms around my shoulders and covered 
my face with kisses. She kissed my lips; then kissed me again, this time 
forcing her tongue into my mouth. I held her as she alternated kissing me with 
soft sobbing. 

"Are you all right?" I asked. 

"I'm trying to sort through all the feelings and emotions," she replied, 
sniffling. 

"Do you want to lie down and cuddle?" 

"Mmm... I do." 

I led her to the bedroom, turned down the covers and lay in her bed. Lize 
joined me and I held her under my arm, her arm wrapped tightly around my chest. 
"What I felt most was ... how connected you are to me." 

"Connected?" 

She nodded. "Ethan ... the first enema ... on the floor. I was about to yell 
Tallahassee when you unlocked the handcuffs. You seemed to know I was at my 
limit. And you deliberately made the enema to give me a hint of what it would 
be like without putting me into any real discomfort. I knew then, in my heart -
- that you would never hurt me." 

"I told you -- I'd rather die, first." 

"And the second one -- you were insistent but gentle ... demanding but tender. 
My grandfather was that way ... strict and demanding but so tender and gentle 
with me. You unleashed more emotion in me than I've ever experienced before -- 
more than I knew I had in me. It was intense but never unbearable. You stopped 
right at the moment I needed you to stop. I didn't need to use the safeword. 
You took me to my limit -- but not beyond it. You seemed to KNOW where my limit 
was. You satisfied my curiosity without injuring me physically or emotionally. 
I can't believe how in-tune you are to my feelings." 

"So -- did you enjoy it?" 

"What I experienced went so far beyond enjoyment ... so far apart from 
enjoyment ... so intense and beyond anything I've ever experienced -- I can't 
describe it." 

"It was powerful stuff we were playing with," I remarked. "Would you do it like 
that again?" 

Lize stoked my patch of chest hair and then slid her hand down and around my 
soft manhood. "I don't think it would be the same. I don't think there's any 
way we could capture or recreate what I experienced. Part of the thrill was not 
knowing what would happen next." 

"I suppose you're right about that." 

"I'm really happy we did this, though, Ethan." 

"Really?" 

"Really and truly. I don't know how we could repeat it and have the same 
impact. It's a real turning point for me ... for us." She squeezed my organ and 
tenderly stroked my shaft, from my glans downward. "One thing for sure, Ethan. 
I want to spend every moment I can with you. I love you that much. I said I'd 
tell you when I'm be ready for us to live together. I'm ready." 

"I'm delighted." I squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. 

"Look," she remarked as she stroked my shaft. "It's not so tired out after all. 
Can you do more?" 

"Can you?" 

"I don't know how many orgasms I had ... how many you forced me to have. I 
don't want more ... not tonight. I do want to feel you inside me. I need the 
intimacy." 

"I'm not sure I can have another," I said. 

"It doesn't matter to me. I just want the closeness." 

I lay on my back. Lize swung one leg over my hips and straddled them. Holding 
my shaft at its base I steered my glans into her as she lay atop me. "Mmm," she 
said softly. "Feeling you inside me is so satisfying..." We locked legs and she 
caressed the back of my head. Then, we kissed and she rested her face on my 
shoulder. "Feels good, Ethan. Feels really good." 

"The delicious intimacy of union," I remarked. 

"Mmm... Exactly..." I held her across her shoulder blades and caressed her 
buttocks, slipping my finger between them and running it across the puckered 
skin of her anus. Lize worked her arms under me and squeezed me. She began a 
languid rocking and rotating of her hips. 

I could feel the muscles in her buttocks moving, and her smooth belly against 
mine. She caressed my legs with her sleek calves. My erection grew stiffer. 
Lize increased the cadence and force of her thrusting. "Feels like you can 
come," she said. 

I began to feel another climax indeed was within my reach. "Touch me," I said. 
Lize lifted onto her elbows and began massaging my breasts. I regarded her face 
and stroked her cheek. "You are so pretty," I said. "Such a lovely face and 
gorgeous body." 

Lize smiled. Her breathing deepened from the exertion as did mine from my 
building arousal. I put both palms on her bottom, pressed her hips against mine 
and began a complimentary thrusting of my hips against hers. Concentrating on 
her arms, shoulders and breasts I drove myself toward orgasm. 

Lize helped me out by sharply pinching my nipples. My release was imminent. 
Squeezing her buttocks I pounded my hips against hers and grunted with each 
spasm. 

I fell limp beneath her. She covered my face with kisses and cuddled against my 
shoulder with me still inside her. "I really felt it that time," she said 
softly. "I could feel you squirting your sperm into me." 

"Except I don't have sperm to squirt." 

"Well ... I felt it ... gives me a warm, full sensation... I like lying like 
this, so close together, you still inside me..." 

I caressed her back. "I was thinking," I said. 

"Thinking what?" 

"You said you want us to spend all our time together." 

"As much as possible," she replied. "But, I can't afford to quit my day job." 

"Nor would I demand you to." 

"So, what were you thinking?" 

"I was thinking ... maybe ... we should get married." Lize tightened her grasp 
on me. "When I went through the divorce I vowed never to repeat that hell. I 
can't help it with you, Lize -- I feel so strongly for you." Her arms trembled 
and her breathing developed a choppy quality to it. "If you need time to think 
about it..." 

"Mmm-mmm," she whimpered squeakily in the back of her throat and nodding. 

"You need more time?" 

"Uhn-uhn," she said, shaking her head. "Yes." 

"Yes?" 

"Yes, Ethan. I accept. I will marry you." She tightened her grip on me and 
kissed my lips. "When I had that smash-up with Jimmy I swore I'd never get so 
involved with another man. I can't help it with you, either." 

"We're meant for each other." 

"Yes, we are. I love you so much, Ethan. I love you so much it scares me 
sometimes." 

"Maybe tomorrow we go out and look at rings?" 

"No hurry," she replied. "Tomorrow I just want to sleep in ... in your arms." 
She kissed me again. "You've made me so happy, Ethan." She nuzzled my neck. "So 
happy." 

 

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may not be reproduced in part or in whole in any medium, including but not 
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