Enema Bellies Full Of Water

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Views: 49779 Created: 2007.09.05 Updated: 2007.09.05
A real shift in his mom’s attitude. Nic…
Everyone should have a mother or father…
Awesome story, it fits my idea of an en…
Very cool and loving mom you describe h…
It may have seemed to be just my imagination, but my Mom had changed. She no longer seemed to be the same old Mom that I'd known before. Reason: She didn't seem to be very happy about having to help me with my daily enema anymore. I thought that this was unusual because Mom was usually the one that initiated the event usually by inquiring whether or not I'd been to the bathroom recently. That question always ended up with her asking: "would you like Mom to give you an enema this morning?" I don't think I ever turned her down.
In those days Mom would always make me feel very special as she gave me my enema. She'd do this by not only comforting me, but also coaching me to the point that I was able to take the entire enema that she had prepared, which on many a day weren't very large.
I don't know what had gone wrong with Mom now? But it had. She no longer seemed very interested in whether I had had a bowel movement and if I complained of being constipated even a little bit, you just wouldn't believe it. She would gripe and groan. Some might even call it bitching. And that wasn't all. Most days she'd just walk away from me. Other times, she'd go and get her bag, point it at me and say you'd better need this. It was those days that I remember the best for she wouldn't even use Vaseline to insert the nozzle. She'd just fill the bag and ram the nozzle in, open the shut off, and leave. There was no encouragement, nothing. Just the bare minimal.
Now, how would you interpret her change? Would you enjoy it? I thought of everything that I had done recently in an attempt to see if I could determine what I had done to cause this sudden change. But, I couldn't think of a single thing that would have caused it. I just began to think that she was just letting me know in no uncertain terms that I ought to be doing the procedure myself?
I quickly evaluated my options, and decided to follow my instincts and just quit asking for her help. . . I could do it myself and that is what I did whenever I wanted or needed one.
Really, it was no big deal, right? All I had to do was borrow Mom's bag from the cabinet, fill it with water and attach the tubing and Wah-la, enema. Any moron could do it!
But, my conscious started to bother me. I thought about it and started to tell Mom what I was doing, but decided not to. I did not feel that she'd mind one bit especially the way she'd been acting lately. But, was I wrong. Today, I know that I hurt Mom's feelings a bit. In fact, the more I think about it, I honestly believe that Mom really did enjoy giving me my daily enemas after all. But, at the time, as I said before, I did not know. I really thought that she was tired of doing it.
As for Mother, I don't think it took Mom long to realize what I was doing. But, she never once let on if she did in fact know.
As for me, I continued to borrow Mom's bag, which caused me to be rather proud of myself. I, however, did hope though that she would ask about it so I could pat myself on the back. Still, she didn't say a word so I decided to encourage her. I went as far as to leave her douche bag wet when I put it up. But, as I said before, she continued to say nothing. Then one day Mom surprised me not in word, but in deed. You see she had hid her douche bag from me. She was the fox, not me. She wanted me to speak first. And this is how it unfolded.
I went to the bathroom as usual about 4 o'clock. I opened the bathroom cabinet to retrieve the bag, but the bag was gone from its normal place. I looked throughout the cabinet. No bag. Then it occurred to me, Mom may have used it herself and had just left it hanging so I looked around the bathroom. No bag. I was getting desperate - Think Mike, think - Had Mom hid her bag from me for a reason? Nah, but where was it? After a while, I got kinda mad. How dare she? I contemplated about going right to her and asking her for it, but decided not to. Instead, I snuck out of the bathroom and went into the living room and turned the TV on.
Mom, realizing that I had left the bathroom soon came in, sat down and asked, "I thought you were in the bathroom?"
I replied, "I was but then I remembered my favorite show was about to come on."
I knew Mom was baiting me and I just didn't take the bait.
When Mom left the room, I decided in no uncertain terms that I must have that enema I craved. So, I decided again to look around a bit more. This time it only took a few minutes for me to find the bag. It was no trouble. I found it under some of her panties in the top drawer of her chest of drawers. As for my being quiet, no way... Mom couldn't have helped but know what I was doing. But as horny as I was, at that point I did not really care.
I ended that session taking at least 2 enemas back to back and when I was finished, I returned Mom's bag to the location where I had found it and went into the kitchen where Mom was busy preparing dinner. Mom didn't say a word and I intentionally went back into the bathroom to poop a bit more.
This type of silence continued until...
One day, which was about a week later, I don't know whether it was a Friday or a Saturday afternoon, but what happened next will be etched into my memories forever.
I had just gotten Mom's bag from out of the drawer and had gone into the bathroom to do my thing. (I was as horny as hell.) Then out of the blue there came this knock on the door. I did not answer it, pretending that I really had not heard it. Mom knew that I had heard it though and called out, "I know you have my thing in there."
Still, I did not reply back. I just bent down over the tub and turned the water on, leaving the next move up to Mom. And did she respond?
Mom knocked again and then entered the room.
I looked around over my left shoulder peering up at Mom. She reached out her hand and said, "Hand it here."
I him-hawed around a bit trying my best to get her to give up, but give up was not what she had in mind for that day.
She again echoed, this time sounding angry, "Mike, I said give me my enema bag, and I mean give it to me now!"
I shrugged my shoulders and eventually handed it over to her saying, "Mom, I really need to take an enema today. Can't I?"
Mom did not respond, she just turned and headed out of the room holding the red bag in her right hand and letting the tubing drag on the floor.
I felt as if my Mom had kicked the wind right out of my gut.
Then, just as she exited the room, she turned back around, looked me squarely in the eyes and said, "Are you constipated?"
I started to grin and Mom, with this funny smirk on her face, asked, "Does, Mike want his Mama to give him his ENEMA today like she used to?"
I couldn't believe my luck. I thought for a second and came to the conclusion that if I said no I wouldn't have this opportunity again, so I shook my head in approval, grinning all the while. Now, Mom knew I was pleased and she also knew that I wanted an enema from her more than anything in the world, but she continued to not let on.
In fact, Mom again looked me straight in the eye and asked: "Now, be honest with me Mike, tell me this, is Mike mad at Mom or something?
I said "Mom, I thought you were tired of helping me?"
She responded, "Mike, I've had a lot on my mind lately. Would you please forgive me?"
I smiled, hugged her neck, and said, "You're forgiven, that is if you will make this enema really special for me."
I must have taken Mom by surprise because she pulled back a bit and then said, "OK, son, I'll try, but I really don't know what you mean by really special."
I, still maintaining eye contact with Mom, said, "I want you to make it enjoyable."
Mom shook her head then uttered, "I've never heard of anyone ever enjoying an enema other than you, but I guess I can try to make it as pleasurable as I can, that is if there is such a thing. Remember Mike, enemas, as you know, aren't designed to be recreation. They are used to make you shit. And I can guarantee that I can do that, but for me to make it agreeable to your emotions will be the hard thing. I have no utter idea on how to go about making the sensations that you want from this enema pleasurable."
She paused, shook her head and then said, "But I guess I can give it a try, who knows there really might be a way. I just have never heard of one, but again, I've not done much research on it either. Now, before we begin, I will need your help. I need to truly know if you are even the least bit constipated?"
I wondered what in the world did she mean by that statement. Surely, she knew. Why the prodding? Did she want me to spell it out for her or was that part of her plan to heighten my anticipation? I looked at her bewildered for a second. Then, I asked, "Wy that question, Mom?" as I turned off the water in the tub.
Mom replied, "Cause if you are even a little bit constipated to start with, I think, we should take care of that first and then proceed with the other, more pleasurable aspects. Don't you agree?"
I responded back, "You mean that there are different kinds of enemas?"
Mom said, "Of course, there are. For example, if you are constipated, then that is an enema of the medicinal kind; medicinal enemas also relieve gas and can be used to administer medicine. Then, there are also enemas that are given to get a patient ready for surgery or child birth."
I looked at her thinking I didn't know that.
Then, she added, "In addition, Mike there are also enemas for other reasons too, such as..."
She stopped dead in mid-sentence, looked away a second, turned a little red. I could tell that she had about put her foot in her mouth so I helped her out by saying, "Yes Mom, what else?"
She swallowed and scrunched up her face saying, "You know ..."
I didn't know and said that, "No Mom, I don't know!"
Mom again looked away and said, "There are enemas, like the one you've asked for, given solely for personal enjoyment reasons if there really is such a thing."
Mom quickly questioned, "Now, ruling out childbirth, surgery and the administering of medicine, do any of the other reasons explain why you want me to give you this here enema today?"
I smiled and replied, "I think so!"
She then said, "Are you going to tell me or are you going to make me guess?"
I said, "I guess I'll tell you, Mom!"
I looked away from her eyes and told her, "Mom, I am not really constipated, at least, not bad and I don't have gas so I guess it is the other kind."
I smiled, looked down at the floor and said, "The one given for personal enjoyment? I really would like to go into ectascy while you are giving me it!"
Mom giggled and I responded again, "Mom, I really do like the feeling that an enema gives me as it goes in and then fills every cavern of my belly and that is not to mention the feeling of love I receive when you give it to me in your loving ways. Will you really go the extra mile and give me a pleasurable enema?"
Mom didn't respond so again I spoke up, "If you do, you will without a doubt make me feel extremely loved."
Mother appeared shocked at my statement. She shook her head and finally uttered these words as she walked towards the sink unscrewing the tube from the bottle. "You are really perverted Mike. I suspected that particular answer when I first came in here. But, let me ask you this again, because this is important, you say you are not really constipated. Are you sure?"
I thought to myself again and then uttered, "Well, maybe a little."
She paused at the sink and then turned towards me again speaking in a real low voice making sure I was listening well: "No Mike, enemas aren't all exactly alike even though they all result in water being injected into the intestines causing the eventual movement of the bowels. An enema just to relieve constipation is small and quick, like the one I am about to give you to relieve your constipation, but the kind you've really asked for must be big. In fact, it should be real big and take me quite some time to give it to you."
Mom was already making that enema special and she had not even begun to do it yet.
Mom continued to talk real low and slow, "Mike, to be real special, real special, real loving, it has got to be different. Now, let me consider just how I am going to do this here special enema that you have requested."
She spoke louder saying: "I was saying, let me consider just how am I going to do this here special enema that you have requested? I am not exactly sure how I will proceed. You see, I have never given you or anyone else a personal enjoyment enema before, at least not to my knowledge. Do you have any particular suggestions that might help me to set a direction by which to proceed since you will be the one that is going to be receiving it. I really do want to please you today, son, and not just give you a normal enema?"
I only said, "You are already doing that Mom, my stomach has all kinds of butterflies in it right now."
Mom smiled, then she said, "First things first though, let us take care of that constipation problem first and then we will talk more about this. It will give me a few minutes to think. OK?"
I said, "OK!" and Mom prepared me a small enema which I took with no problem. While I sat on the john expelling that beloved water, Mom came in and said, "I've got an idea. Listen and then tell me what you think of this suggestion."
She smiled and then said, "First, let's set the parameters for this particular enema. OK?"
"The first parameter must be: to be truly special, this enema, like I said earlier, has to be much larger than the one I just gave you or that I have given you in the past. Wouldn't you agree that it can't be the normal sized, baby."
I replied, "Oh yes, a pint is definitely out, but exactly how big are we talking?"
Mom uttered, "I am probably talking about giving you several bags today, son. You think you are up to it?"
I stood there looking at her. I really did not know if I could.
She then asked, "You do want this here enema to be different, don't you?"
I said, "Yes, but, several bags? I haven't been able to get an entire bag all in very often."
She then uttered, "Well today, my child, we are planning on setting a new record. I'm going to give it to you real slow and make sure you take as much as you can even if it takes me all day to put it up into you. I want to see your belly swell much larger than it is now. You are up to it my son, aren't you?"
I really didn't comprehend what she had said so I responded, "...I think so!"
She frowned up her face and said, "YOU THINK SO! I'll be there to help you, to coach you!"
I quickly understood that I must have said the wrong thing and corrected myself saying, "I am up to it, I am up to it! YES, I'm really up to it!"
Mom smiled and said, "We will soon see, won't we?" Then, she looked me directly in the eyes and asked, "How am I doing, am I making that anticipation that much more? Am I getting you all hot and bothered?"
I grinned and Mom knew she was on the right track. Then she said, "Oh, where was I?"
I said, "You were saying that this enema has to have a lot of volume and you asked if I thought that I could take it all."
She replied, "Oh yes, I remember, now what else can we do to make this enema really special, other than just make it big, cause I feel that it has to be different in other ways too! What about solution? Can't we do something to the solution too? Normally, we use only plain water right?"
Mom thought for another second and then said, "We really ought to use something else besides just plain water today son, this enema can't be just plain water. Plain water will not cause you to feel anything different inside than normal and I do want you to feel something different today."
I suggested that she use some of her Massengill douche preparation, but she didn't like that idea saying, "That stuff is for the vagina, not the intestines. Besides, it won't cause cramping."
Mom said, "To make it special, to make you remember it. So, what can I put into that bag that will enhance the cramping?" She thought a couple of more seconds and then said, "In a book I was reading about sexuality while you were in here expelling that first enema, I read that some people put ivory soap into their enema water to enhance the purging effect and cramping. Others, according to the book, use only salt. What do you say, shouldn't we use both. You have any complaints?"
I responded "None at all, my bootie is yours for your bidding! I will try anything once."
She smiled and said, "I hoped you'd say that and I am so glad that you feel that way. We are going to definitely have a good time today son. I am going to give you a very large enema filled with soap, and salt. But, is that enough? Is there anything else I can do to this enema to make it special? We really do want this enema to be an experience of a lifetime, don't we? Now, what else can I add to the water to make this here enema even more special?"
I thought for a second or so and then asked, "Do you think that the solution's temperature would make a difference? Seems to me it would."
Mom responded, "Excellent idea, temperature really could make a big difference. At least it ought too! I don't think that we have ever used anything but warm water right?"
I smiled and said, "I may be wrong, but I think you are right."
She said, "Well, to make this one different, I think I will start out by giving you a bag of ice cold soapy water to chill and clean your insides. Then, if that goes well, I will give you a bag of hot water with only a little soap to warm you up. Doesn't that sound good? I'll hold you in my arms as I slowly inject the water to make you feel loved and I'll talk loving, encouraging, words to you too!"
I replied, "Oh yes, Mom, I really can't wait, you are making me really, really excited. But, what about the salt?"
She smiled and then added, "But Mike, I am not through."
I was beginning to get real anxious and Mom being very observant said, "I want to give you one additional bag of just good old warm salty water to soothe your insides."
I couldn't help but respond. For I just honestly realized that Mom was talking about giving me three full bags of water at once and said, "Mom, you are talking about giving me three full bags of water, all at once! Remember, I usually have a hard time just taking half a bag?"
Mom replied, "Today Mike, I envision that first half a bag going in so smoothly that if I tried to stop, you'd cry and if I do it just right, you will love every ounce, 3 bags and all. In fact, I bet your butt will even be asking for more once that last drop leaves the tube."
I grinned and uttered, "I don't know about that!"
She hugged me and replied, "Well, today you will love it, and like I said earlier, I h
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