Enema Discipline Stories

Enema Discipline Stories

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>Making the M & M even worse punishment
>
>Anyone who has ever been punished with an M&M (Milk
>and Molasses) enema understands how horrible they are
>and how effective as a punishment tool they can be.
>But over the last few days I have improved upon the
>punishment and wanted to pass it along to all
>interested parties.
>
>First, the enema is only part of a good punishment
>system. I think it is important to use a punishment
>system rather than just an enema method. This greatly
>increases the punishment factor and hopefully will
>discourage a repeat offense.
>
>What I do is start by informing the offender that they
>are going to get a punishment enema that they will
>never forget. They are then ushered into the kitchen
>where the punishment solution and items will be
>prepared. I will immediately strip them naked. This
>is often accompanied by pleas and promises that are
>obviously ignored. From this point on they will be
>naked for the entire punishment regime.
>
>They must stand and watch while not moving with hands
>on their heads while I make the punishment ready for
>them. Any movement will result in additional
>punishment from this point on they are to remain
>silent. Should they speak or protest they will be
>rewarded with a soapy washcloth inserted into their
>mouths.
>
>I start by gathering the punishment items. This
>includes a long piece of ginger root that will be used
>as a fig; a jar of blackstrap molasses, and my new
>found key ingredient buttermilk, which make the
>solution much more severe.
>
>I pour about a cup of molasses and a cup of buttermilk
>into a pan and heat it to about 110 degrees. It will
>cool down a bit before it is administered and will
>look like dark chocolate milk.
>
>Then I peal the ginger root and scrape the outside
>with a fork. This releases more “juice” which makes
>the fig more effective.
>
>Now comes the first part of the punishment. The
>offender is placed over my knee and the fig is
>inserted into the anus. It should be moved in an out
>for at least two minutes during which time the burning
>sensation will become extreme. I take a piece of
>adhesive tape and use it to hold the butt cheeks
>together with the fig inserted as I take the offender
>to the bathroom. If they have a soapy washcloth in
>their mouths they may remove it but not rinse.
>
>I use a large bulb syringe to administer the enema. A
>little goes a long way and two bulb fulls will send
>the offender into agony.
>
>Before I administer the enema I will give the toilet
>seat a good coating of icy hot or other such
>substance. When they sit down they will feel a new
>form of punishment that make them think twice about
>offending.
>
>Now I give them a very long and very hard spanking and
>I will be sure us the bristles of the brush side to
>rough their backsides. This makes the icy hot much
>more effective.
>
>Now the fig is removed and the enema quickly
>administered. They will want to clench their butt to
>hold the enema in but that will greatly increase the
>residual burning from the fig. They are instructed to
>hold the enema for 10 minutes, which is impossible.
>The addition of buttermilk to the solution increases
>the long term cramping and the results in a few
>minutes will be explosive.
>
>Now they will likely sit on the toilet after only a
>few minutes. The results will be explosive but a new
>10 minute time period starts. The icy hot will start
>burning their already sore behinds and some additional
>icy hot on a man’s balls or on a woman’s vulva will
>add to the punishment.
>
>While they sit the hairbrush can be used liberally on
>the fronts of their thighs to great effect.
>
>Once the 10 minutes are up they may stand up, but are
>put into a diaper which they will wear for at least 8
>hours. The burning of the icy hot will be quite
>uncomfortable and the cramping of the buttermilk will
>produce additional bowel movements that they try to
>hold, with the burning from the fig still present when
>they clamp their cheeks together or they can just deal
>with a messy diaper.
>
>As I said, I think this will be a great addition to
>the punishment and doubt they will repeat the offense
>any time soon.

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ENEMAS AND THE VICTORIAN CORSETTING ROUTINE

In
point 9, under “Diet,” where the author of

SOUND ADVICE TO MOTHERS AND GOVERNESSES REGARDING
CORSET DISCIPLINE FOR THE BEGINNER
recommends that the novice “should
be trained to have one bowel movement a day immediately after rising in the
morning,” most modern readers unfortunately won’t catch her drift.
What her readers long ago would have understood her to mean by that term
was by administering enemas. They
were commonly used in the 19th century—all the members of many (most?)
families had one weekly; it was a conventional health practice.
In addition, many, maybe most, well-corseted women habituated themselves
to having a bowel movement in the morning or evening by taking an enema.
It eliminated complications that arose from doing “number 2” while
wearing a corset and an elaborate set of undies, especially before toilet paper
had been invented. (I believe people
who could afford it used sponges.)

And
enemas eliminated having to empty a chamber pot more than once a day—it was
filled and immediately emptied at a set time.
If women had used it whenever they were in the mood, it would have had to
be emptied more often (or it would have stunk up the premises).
Therefore, because they promoted health and convenience, enemas weren’t
considered a bad, but rather a good ,
habit. (And maybe they
were—medical opinion on such matters is sometimes influenced by fads and
fashions, so perhaps the old-fashioned practice was actually correct, or at
least not very harmful. After all,
we occasionally discover that some discarded Victorian practice has merit, such
as women’s avoidance of sunburns.)

There’s
another reason why many Victorian women considered enemas a “good” habit.
In the 19 th century there were few “public facilities.”
There were no toilets on trains or stagecoaches.
Such facilities as there were were pretty rough—nasty outhouses,
mainly. They were cold in
winter and stank in summer. And
sitting on a dirty, partially full public chamber pot (in a theater’s
restroom, for instance) wasn’t a prospect women relished.

Or
if a woman went bicycling, urination was not a problem in the countryside—and
90% of

England

was countryside. She just squatted
by the side of the road, let her skirts billow around her, and let go—30
seconds later, at most, she was done. Drawers
had slits in them to facilitate this sort of thing.
But doing “number 2” would have been problematic, as she’d have had
no toilet paper, she’d have had to remove her drawers (they’d be soiled
otherwise, lacking a sitting-surface to keep their two halves apart), the
process would have taken over a minute (and couldn’t have been easily
interrupted if someone were heard approaching, unlike urination), and there’d
have been an embarrassing and inconsiderate remnant left behind.

Even
if a woman merely visited a friend, she’d have been embarrassed to ask to use
her friend’s chamber pot for anything more than “number 1,” as doing
“number 2” would have left a stench and required her to ask the servant (or
her friend) to empty it at once (and perhaps would have necessitated an awkward
request for a sponge). So women with
“get up and go” wanted to avoid having “the urge to go” overtake them
when they were outside. Being
enema-dependent solved their problem.

If
women visited a friend for a weekend or longer, they either took their enema
equipment with them, or just consumed a strong laxative.

Even
in the 20 th century some women probably continued this practice,
either because it was handed down by their mothers, or because they discovered
it made things simpler in the bathroom at work.
E.g., it’s easy to urinate when wearing an open-bottom girdle (OBG)
with panties underneath, by simply pushing the crotch of the panties aside.
(Provided the girdle isn’t one that comes far down the thighs.)
But doing “number 2” requires (at least) undoing the back garters,
rolling up the back of the girdle, and pulling the panties down to the top of
the stockings. And clean-up
afterwards, with the undies in such disarray, must have been a bit tricky.
Doing “number 2” on a regular schedule at home, when the girdle was
off, would have seemed preferable to some.

(This
is one bit of intimate social history we’ll never learn about until some
foundation funds an investigation of older women’s recollections about
“unmentionable” (undie-related) topics.
Our descendents will wish we’d done so!)

Postscript: The subject of the difficulty of “answering nature’s
call” while wearing a girdle came up in the Girdles and More forum, and one
exceptionably knowledgeable member with the handle “Working Antique” made
this post, which parallels the interpretation I’ve made above:

It's clear, dating well back
into the 19th century and tight-lacing, that for a century or so, women
learned to handle what society called their “toilette,” which was the daily
ritual of bathing and getting dressed in the morning, and learned to develop
a “schedule” of a sort that fitted their daily life—that is, at least the
privileged classes did.

Elements of that could be found
in the sort of regimen some women followed into the 1960s. Suffice it to
say that “The Age of Aquarius” challenged and changed a lot of things.

Also, I recently came upon a novel set in 1864, and written by an
Englishwoman, Marghanita Laski, in 1954, that describes the embarrassment
that a woman felt when they had to call upon a servant to get a chamber pot
at an unscheduled time, and what a Big Deal it was to clean the pot and
deodorize the room afterwards. The quotation below is from pp. 53-57 of The
Victorian Chaise Longue.

Melanie lifted her left hand,
slowly and with difficulty, and twitched the brass bell from off the
tatting. … "Well?" asked Adelaide, and bent over and replaced the bell
upright on the tatting beside the tumbler.

"I want -- " began Melanie, "I
want -- I am afraid that I must -- " She was choking with shame, and could
not go on.

She heard Adelaide empty the
chamber pot and swill it out. She heard her pour out water, wash her own
hands, and throw that water away too. ….

Adelaide … called, "Lizzie! The
lavender shovel!" There was a moment's waiting, and then Lizzie's heavy
steps came up the stone stairs, along the passage and into the room. Now …
she saw Lizzie come past her couch, holding at arm's length a black kitchen
shovel on which burned red embers.

Adelaide was standing by the
fireplace, a small green bottle in her hand. Lizzie held out the shovel to
her, and on the embers Adelaide dripped liquid from the bottle. There was a
sizzling, and smoke rose from the shovel, heavy with the smell of lavender.
Adelaide recorked the bottle, and replaced it behind the jar containing the
bulrushes, while Lizzie walked about the room, holding the shovel before
her, waving it slowly from side to side.

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It has been quite a while since I have related another of my summer experiences with Mistress Rosemarie. I was supposed to do this on a regular basis, but forgot and to be honest put it off since my summer vacation was mostly humiliating with many embarrassing activities, trips and things with her. Well the year is almost over and as all things do it has caught up with me big time. This past summer often found me in hot water, but none more so then when I tend to embarrass Mistress Rosemarie in front of one of her friends.
The specific day was a nice warm day in August and we were suppose to go to the beach with one of her friends from work. This was always fun and mostly stress free for me since Mistress Rosemarie was seldom inclined to embarrass me in public by having me do girlish things. It was Saturday and when we went to pick up her girlfriend she explained that she had her period, did not feel good and really did not want to go to a sandy beach. I had been looking forward to this and I lost it. I cried and before I thought, I said I didn’t care if she had her period, she could stay home and we should go without her. No sooner were the words out of my mouth and the look on Mistress Rosemarie’s face told me I had crossed the line. I knew it was insensitive and I knew I would regret it.
Mistress Rosemarie left the room with her friend and when they came back smiling they told me it was about time that I had my first feminine period. I blushed a deep red, but knew better then to say a word. Well out came the feminine sanitary products and their fun began and my misery started. Her friend seemed to feel better that she had a girlie sissy to commiserate with. I was very much embarrassed by this day that I had hoped never to have to relay it for all to hear.
I somehow never learn my lessons though. Last week I made the same awful insensitive mistake again with another one of her friends because it interfered with us going out to a party. She was totally livid and then she remembered my unlearned lesson from this past summer.
Well, this has now become – How I spent my summer vacation – 4 and also how I spent my Christmas vacation – 1.
This past Tuesday Night I came home to find Mistress Rosemarie with both of her girlfriends that I had embarrassed by being insensitive about their periods. They reminded me about how I had said to all of them that I did not see what the big deal was about a little stomach ache and having to wear a rag between there legs. Well, Mistress Rosemarie then smiled and said that it was about time that I realized what a big deal it was.
I was led into the bathroom and spread out on the counter was my impending lesson.
I was to have my first feminine period and I would certainly learn what the big deal was after 24 hours. I groaned, but there was no way out of this now.
They told me my period would start at 11:00 PM this evening and end tomorrow night at midnight.
The girls had come up with a way for me to experience a girl’s period cramps. Enemas would certainly do the trick they said and I knew this was not going to be pleasant. They gave me a sheer peignoir robe so nothing would be hidden. I was to be given a two quart enema at 11 and if the cramps were so bad I could not stand them, then I would be allowed to got to the toilet, but the enema fluid would be replaced with an equal amount. I would also have clothespins attached to my nipples so they would become sore just like a women with her period. This would go on till midnight.
I was bent over and the feminine enema nozzle was shoved roughly into my sissy vagina and I cried as they laughed at my discomfit. Then a pin was snapped on each nipple as I cried again as they giggled.
Down on the bed and the enema fluid was let loose. As it always does, the cold water rushing up my rectum into my stomach caused instant cramping and much discomfit. I was bloated in a matter of minutes and lay as still as I could on my bed. They laughed and as they were leaving me to my discomfit told me to call if I needed to go to the toilet. In ten minutes the cramps were horrible and in twenty I was crying and squirming on the bed, but the cramps would not subside. After 25 minutes I cried out for mercy and they led me to the toilet to relieve myself. I was given only one minute to relieve myself and was then led back to the bed.
Mistress Rosemarie then said she did not know how much I had released, so therefore I would have to be given a full 2 quart enema again. I cried that she knew I always retained at least have after a minute, but she said too bad. She opened the clamp and the flood of enema fluid slammed through my system with even greater cramping. I was crying almost immediately and within 15 minutes I was begging to go to the Toilet again.
I was filled up again twice more in the hour and when I was finally allowed to sit for 5 minutes on the toilet at midnight, I know I still had at least two quarts left in me.
Finally I was led back to the counter and a sanitary Napkin and tampon were waiting for me. On the Sanitary Napkin was splattered red jam to simulate my period.
I was forced to put the soiled sanitary napkin in my panties and then one of the girls inserted a tampon up my sissy vagina. Oh how it hurt at first. In fact, I never did get use to having a tampon up my sissy vagina. I pulled up my panties and put on my negligee to sleep in. I was really hurting with the cramps that continued.
Every hour I was also awoken and given a large glass of water to drink which bloated me further and my stomach ached even more. This continued for 24 hours.
I was then told that for the next 24 hours I would have to change my pad and tampon everytime I went to the Ladies Room, but at a minimum at least every two hours.
It was 2:00 AM when I was awoken and led to the Ladies for my first sanitary period changing. First my soiled pad and tampon were removed and new put in its place.
This happened twice more during the night and it was so disgusting and I could not sleep. They told me that a girl always has trouble sleeping with her period, so why shouldn’t I.
Finally it was morning and I was dressed for work. Another new pad and tampon, a very small bra so I would feel my breasts all day and be totally uncomfortable were put on and in me. They also gave me hand fulls of sanitary napkins and tampons to carry with me. I put them in my backpack, but I was told I had to carry a pad and tampon in my pocket just in case. I was so self conscious that some one would notice.
Finally my day at work was done and that included going to the restroom and changing my pad and tampon every two hours. I returned home with my soiled feminine products in baggies to show that I had done it. It was really disgusting.
After all that, I was finally allowed to change into a comfortabl
Fraternityx
Cock On Boobs
Big Ass Gets Fucked

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