Chapter 5

I went up to the bedroom and grabbed the jug and the bulb syringe. In the kitchen I took out my phone and did some calculations to figure out how much alcohol to use. I wanted the amount of eighty-proof vodka to be sufficient to give her a pleasant buzz, but not so much that would be dangerous. Of course I would dilute the vodka so the final mixture would be under twenty percent alcohol by volume, and in Lori’s case she’s petite enough that it would be well under.

Once I had the dose calculated, I started to measure it out, and I realized I should have grabbed a graduated cylinder before heading out. I had to make do with kitchen measures — I mixed together the vodka and water and poured it into the pitcher, then I filled the bulb syringe with plain water from the tap.

Back in her bedroom I filled the fountain syringe from the pitcher, flushed air out of the hose and affixed the douching wand. Then I sat on her bed until she appeared from downstairs.

“How did you make out?” I asked.

“When we went downstairs I felt like I wanted to throw up.”

“You were over-filled,” I replied. “You didn’t have to take the whole bag — just enough to be filled up.”

“How do we know how much is enough?”

“That’s the thing about knowing your colon. Some of the first enema might be left behind. We also had a fairly heavy dinner. Your transverse colon lies against your stomach.”

“I feel so much better, now,” she replied, “and look how flat my tummy is!” She hung her robe and hopped onto the bed.

I held up the red bag. “I have your next enema ready. It’s not a very big one, but the goal is for you to hold it until the alcohol is absorbed ... at least for thirty minutes.”

“Got it. How do you want me?” she asked.

“Lie on your right side and draw up your knees. That puts most of your colon downhill and we want the enema to flow in deep where there are fewer nerve endings.”

Lori assumed the position. I lubricated her bottom with some lube and coated the nozzle with the slippery gel. Then with my left hand I spread her buttocks and with my right I eased the nozzle into her orifice, tilting it back and sliding it in full depth.

“Now, straighten your legs. I should warn you — alcohol is irritating to your colon. You are going to feel this. Ready?”

“Ready,” she replied.

I held up the bag high and snapped open the clamp. The fluid started to flow.

“Oh!” she gasped. “It burns! I feel it ... I feel it in my feet!”

“That’s referred pain,” I replied. “Some internal organs will refer pain to peripheral nerves. Distress in the colon will be referred to the left foot — similar to how a heart attack is felt in an arm or shoulder.”

The bag emptied within a few seconds. I closed the clamp, disconnected the hose from the bag and attached it to the bulb syringe. “I’m going to send in some plain water to flush in what’s left in the hose. It should dilute what’s in your rectum and push it further up into your colon.” I opened the clamp and squeezed the bulb. Holding the collapsed bulb in my fist I plucked the nozzle from her bottom.

“Oh, that does feel better,” she remarked. “It put the fire out. Now what?”

“Lie on your right side for a few minutes,” I replied. “It will keep the fluid high in your colon and make it easier for you to hold.” I sat on the bed near her and ran my hand along her thigh.

“It’s starting to feel better,” she said. “I think I’m feeling it. I taste it — I taste alcohol in the back of my throat.”

I continued caressing her leg. “Once you feel ready, try lying on your back. The fluid should then flow further down your colon — that will expose more tissue to the alcohol and help it absorb faster.”

She rolled onto her back and adjusted the pillow under her neck and shoulders. “Oh, I feel it now — I feel it coming on.”

“If you should feel discomfort in your lower colon, roll back onto your right side.”

“This does feel different from anything I felt from drinking. Usually after a few drinks I feel heavy and groggy. Now I feel relaxed ... mellow ... almost like I’m melting into the bed.”

“Do you like how it feels?” I asked.

“I do.” I continued caressing her. “Feels like I’m floating ... Now my lips feel numb and my face feels warm.”

“You do look like you have a bit of a flush,” I replied. “Do you usually get like that after drinks?”

“No, not usually...”

She reached towards me and I kissed her lips. “I can smell it on your breath.”

“How can that be if I didn’t drink it?”

“It’s because it’s in your bloodstream and you’re excreting it through your lungs.” I ran my hand along her legs. Then I gently massaged her belly in an attempt to further distribute the fluid in her colon. Seeing and touching her nude body and knowing what was going on inside her abdomen was giving me a powerful erection.