SEX STORY
MEDICAL
MEDICAL
ENIMA
One day I arrived at my aunt's house just
as one of my cousins was about to undergo correction for having deliberately
torn her sister's dress in a fit of envy. The culprit tried to rectify the
situation by apologizing, but undauntedly my aunt was gathering the enema
equipment. I was too fascinated to make a polite exit, until my cousin
blushingly asked her mother to send me home. To my surprise, my aunt decided
I could stay, as an additional embarrassment for the malfeasant.
In honor of my presence, she was permitted to retain her bra and panties.
But I was not disappointed. I have always considered her attractive, and
seeing her in a tight pair of silk panties gave me quite a thrill. The
recalcitrant was ceremoniously ushered into a bedroom and reluctantly laid
face-down on some towels spread over the bed. She whimpered as my aunt
lowered her panties in front of me and her giggling sister. The silken
undergarment was arranged as a useless decoration below her knees, leaving
her shapely buttocks and thighs fully exposed. Then, while my curiosity
rose, my aunt attached a rubber hose to the enema bag and inserted a nozzle
at the loose end. I noticed that she used a larger hygienic nozzle rather
than the regular device provided for enema usage. She carefully greased this
threatening plastic tube as its intended victim stared in horror. Ignoring
her entreaties, my aunt prised apart the unhappy girl's fleshy cheeks and
the glistening black nozzle was slowly pushed into her rectum until it
nearly disappeared inside the forced opening. Having checked that the hose
was properly secured, my aunt instructed her whining daughter not to move
and then went to the kitchen to prepare the special enema solution.
During my aunt's 15-minute absence, my cousin, doing as she was told,
maintained her awkward position, looking absurd with the red enema hose
stretched like a strange clothes line from her quivering behind to the limp
bag hanging on the bedpost. Her sister was beside herself from enjoyment,
and our continual taunting and banter aggravated her ordeal. Unsupervised
for so long, we took advantage of the opportunity afforded by the slightly
protruding nozzle. To our amusement, we discovered that, by merely
manipulating the implanted object, we could obtain splendid reactions from
its unwilling possessor. We were like children mischievously torturing a
captured dog by twisting its tail. Much like a helpless animal, my cousin
was at our mercy. The muffling noise of a radio rendered her screams for
help useless, while a great fear of my aunt's wrath prevented her from
freeing herself. So, submitting to the inevitable, she meekly held her pose
while her sister and I each took turns experimenting with the nozzle. We
were treated to an exciting show of squirming, fanny wiggling and childish
complaints.
Just when we heard my aunt returning, my partner-in-mischief suddenly jerked
the enema hose from its moorings in her alarmed sister's mid-posterior. I
was at first mystified by this unexpected maneuver, but its purpose was to
become apparent. As my aunt came back onto the room, she found her errant
daughter frantically trying to restore the nozzle and immediately
misinterpreted her intentions. Wrongly identifying the prankster and
ignoring the victim's self-vindicating accusations, my aunt swiftly
re-inserted the nozzle and carefully filled the enema bag with the pitcher
of solution she had prepared. With all in readiness, she opened the
stopcock, starting the flow into the pseudo-patient. My aunt skillfully
released the liquid in intermittent spurts by pinching the hose. First, she
would let it gush, causing the recipient to writhe in distress as the
pressure quickly mounted. The she would stop it momentarily, allowing the
pressure to subside to a tolerable level. In all, well over a quart must
have been emptied out of the enema bag.
My cousin believed that the completed enema concluded her degrading public
exhibition, but my aunt insisted on scrubbing her heretofore private areas
with a wash cloth and toilet paper in much the same way that one might clean
an infant for a diaper change. Even after that, my aunt made her wait at the
bathroom door and stand facing the wall only steps from the physical relief
she craved.
One day I arrived at my aunt's house just
as one of my cousins was about to undergo correction for having deliberately
torn her sister's dress in a fit of envy. The culprit tried to rectify the
situation by apologizing, but undauntedly my aunt was gathering the enema
equipment. I was too fascinated to make a polite exit, until my cousin
blushingly asked her mother to send me home. To my surprise, my aunt decided
I could stay, as an additional embarrassment for the malfeasant.
In honor of my presence, she was permitted to retain her bra and panties.
But I was not disappointed. I have always considered her attractive, and
seeing her in a tight pair of silk panties gave me quite a thrill. The
recalcitrant was ceremoniously ushered into a bedroom and reluctantly laid
face-down on some towels spread over the bed. She whimpered as my aunt
lowered her panties in front of me and her giggling sister. The silken
undergarment was arranged as a useless decoration below her knees, leaving
her shapely buttocks and thighs fully exposed. Then, while my curiosity
rose, my aunt attached a rubber hose to the enema bag and inserted a nozzle
at the loose end. I noticed that she used a larger hygienic nozzle rather
than the regular device provided for enema usage. She carefully greased this
threatening plastic tube as its intended victim stared in horror. Ignoring
her entreaties, my aunt prised apart the unhappy girl's fleshy cheeks and
the glistening black nozzle was slowly pushed into her rectum until it
nearly disappeared inside the forced opening. Having checked that the hose
was properly secured, my aunt instructed her whining daughter not to move
and then went to the kitchen to prepare the special enema solution.
During my aunt's 15-minute absence, my cousin, doing as she was told,
maintained her awkward position, looking absurd with the red enema hose
stretched like a strange clothes line from her quivering behind to the limp
bag hanging on the bedpost. Her sister was beside herself from enjoyment,
and our continual taunting and banter aggravated her ordeal. Unsupervised
for so long, we took advantage of the opportunity afforded by the slightly
protruding nozzle. To our amusement, we discovered that, by merely
manipulating the implanted object, we could obtain splendid reactions from
its unwilling possessor. We were like children mischievously torturing a
captured dog by twisting its tail. Much like a helpless animal, my cousin
was at our mercy. The muffling noise of a radio rendered her screams for
help useless, while a great fear of my aunt's wrath prevented her from
freeing herself. So, submitting to the inevitable, she meekly held her pose
while her sister and I each took turns experimenting with the nozzle. We
were treated to an exciting show of squirming, fanny wiggling and childish
complaints.
Just when we heard my aunt returning, my partner-in-mischief suddenly jerked
the enema hose from its moorings in her alarmed sister's mid-posterior. I
was at first mystified by this unexpected maneuver, but its purpose was to
become apparent. As my aunt came back onto the room, she found her errant
daughter frantically trying to restore the nozzle and immediately
misinterpreted her intentions. Wrongly identifying the prankster and
ignoring the victim's self-vindicating accusations, my aunt swiftly
re-inserted the nozzle and carefully filled the enema bag with the pitcher
of solution she had prepared. With all in readiness, she opened the
stopcock, starting the flow into the pseudo-patient. My aunt skillfully
released the liquid in intermittent spurts by pinching the hose. First, she
would let it gush, causing the recipient to writhe in distress as the
pressure quickly mounted. The she would stop it momentarily, allowing the
pressure to subside to a tolerable level. In all, well over a quart must
have been emptied out of the enema bag.
My cousin believed that the completed enema concluded her degrading public
exhibition, but my aunt insisted on scrubbing her heretofore private areas
with a wash cloth and toilet paper in much the same way that one might clean
an infant for a diaper change. Even after that, my aunt made her wait at the
bathroom door and stand facing the wall only steps from the physical relief
she craved.
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