My Date with an Enema

Fri, 01/25/2013 - 17:52
Submitted by VirginMonoblogger

As a follow up to my last entry: I'm not dead.

Some days are harder than others, but they're okay days for the most part. Now that school isn't stressing me out to the point of wanting to play in traffic, more time can be spent doing things I don't fucking hate. I feel more like "me" now and I like that. I hope it lasts.

So... As someone who recently graduated from nursing school (yay), I have to say that NONE of what I'm about to share is a good idea for anyone, especially me.

So, I did a water fast for four days. Nothing but water. Obviously, it sucked. As someone who lives on mostly crap and shit food, I wanted some kind of detox before I started making better eating choices.

I researched and fasting was okay for me. By day three, I was convinced that I was going to die. I was laying in bed, shivering and sneezing with body aches and one of the worst headaches that I've ever experienced. I was thinking about how my parents would find me... Curled up in the fetal position with dry lips, my eyes glazed over and fixed on pictures of chicken and pasta on fucking tumblr.

I didn't die, though, and I started feeling better a few hours later. My thinking was a little cloudy. I say this to preface the series of bad events and decisions that followed....

I had read that cleansing enemas can be helpful during fasts, and I also needed various other toiletries, so I went to the drugstore. I casually walked down the aisle, pretending to look at the sinus medicine while glancing at my enema choices. I didn't want it to seem obvious that I was looking for things that would go inside my ass and clean out my colon. I decided on one that claimed to be gentle or natural or some shit that made me feel secure. I dunno, it had "ALOE" in big letters, so I trusted it... I trusted it more than I should have...

Before I go on, I think it should be noted that this is how I envision my first vaginal-partner-sex experience going. The enema did not buy me dinner. It didn't sweet talk me. We spotted each other in a store, both shrugged our shoulders, because "Why not?" and I took that fucker home. What followed is an experience to only be shared with close friends after copious wine has been consumed.

I went home and read the directions. I know how to administer an enema. I was checked off for it when I was in school. I know that you should lay on your left side. I know that you should hold it for as long as you can. I know that cramping and discomfort is expected.

I forgot ALL that shit when I was doing it on myself....

I looked at the bottle. It looked innocent enough. The directions advised me to lay on the bathroom floor or in the tub to self-administer. Well, that sounded all well and good, but I couldn't get the... Um... Cheek spread? that I needed. I got a big ass.

I ended up on a towel, on my bed, with my legs flipped up in the are so my ass was facing the ceiling and my knees were in my face. Sort of like THIS. I was blindly stabbing myself, trying to find the hole and getting woozy from the lack of oxygen I was getting while in that position. Thoughts of dying came to my mind again. Listen... I haven't shaved anything but my armpits in MONTHS. It is a fucking FOREST down there where small animals could take refuge. If I'm going to be found dead, with my legs flipped up and an enema bottle shoved in my asshole, I want my labia to be nicely manicured.

For the second time that day, I didn't die... I don't know if that's so fortunate, though.

I finally got it in (with a grunt of relief AND discomfort) and squeezed. It was an interesting sensation. I took the bottle out and examined... Um, yeah. I had squeezed maybe a tablespoon of the fluid out. So, back in it went. The cycle of inserting it, squeezing, and removing to see how much I had left happened about six times. Around the third time, the awesome and gentle aloe was gone and I felt... I felt violated. I was being as gentle as I could, but I just knew I was perforating something in my ass and I would be shitting blood for a week.

I finally got all of the fluid (and some air) in me. I positioned myself on my left side as the room stopped spinning and I regained oxygen to my brain and waited for the magic to happen. I expected for things to start brewing in there. For my body to expel so much crap that I would feel fresh and renewed after....

That is not what came to fruition... Not by a long shot... I waited for a little over an hour. I started getting worried nothing would happen... Until I felt a slight rumble. I ran, ass clenched, to the bathroom and sat on the toilet, bracing myself for the ass eruption that I knew was awaiting me.

...yeah... The fluid came out... And a tiny little turd nugget. It was like my colon was saying "God, you tried so hard. Here, take this. Here's something to show for all of your work." I almost DIED to have a little turd nugget fly out of my butt. Fuck you, colon.

So, that's it. My date with an enema.

Thought all virgins were the same? Think again.

Comment viewing options

Select your preferred way to display the comments and click "Save settings" to activate your changes.

Sleeping with the Enema

Mon, 01/28/2013 - 03:02

Welcome back, VMB. This is . . . well, it's very honest, as you always are. Reminds me vividly of why I hated rectal thermometers and enemas when I was a kid. What wisdom do you think you gleaned from the whole experience? I sure hope by the way that your first partner sex is a more . . . er, enjoyable encounter than a date with an enema. And congratulations on finishing school.

Post new comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
By submitting this form, you accept the Mollom privacy policy.