Chapter 2

I sat on a bench at the baggage claim and spotted Lize on the escalator. She headed for the carousel and I jumped up to join her. "I see you survived."

"Barely," she replied. "I am glad to be home."

The carousel began turning and bags tumbled out of the chute onto it. "Is that yours?" I asked, pointing.

"No -- similar ... There's mine."

I lunged for it and grabbed the handle; then we headed to the parking lot. As I opened the trunk to place Lize's bag inside she opened the passenger door, climbed in and fastened her belt.

"You'll have to show me the hole," I remarked.

"What hole?"

"The one they drilled into your head. Isn't that what they do at these corporate management workshops?"

"Maybe it would've been easier if that really was what they did. It was a lot of role-playing. I hate role-playing."

"I think you'd be good at it." I turned onto the bypass that allowed us to avoid downtown traffic. We exited the freeway and followed local streets to the duplex. "Shall we call Ling's for delivery?" I asked.

"I suppose."

"The usual?"

"Fine."

"Are you okay? You seem a little down."

"I'm tired," she replied. "I am glad to be home, Ethan."

I called and placed the order. Then I gestured Lize to my laptop. "Here are some of the emails that came in after I posted those photos." Lize sat at my desk. She tucked a curly lock of dark blond hair behind her ear and began scanning the messages. "You're a hit with my customers, Lize. They want to see more of you. We should take some more photos."

"Maybe ... Some of these notes are sweet."

"You have some offering to go out with you."

"I don't know about that," she replied.

The doorbell rang and I answered it. "Dinner's here," I announced.

I sat across from Lize at my kitchen table and watched her unenthusiastically pick at her char sue ding. "Something wrong?" I asked. "I thought that was your favorite."

"It is..." She set down her fork. "I spent what little spare time I had this past week going over your website ... and, following some of the links you have to other sites. I was educating myself on the topic of enemas."

"Good. I'm pleased."

"And, I was reading the testimonials. Ethan ... I'm not real comfortable talking about this ... but..."

"But what?"

She stared at her dinner plate. "I think ... I think I want to ... to try one."

"Did my website do a good job of selling it to you?"

She continued staring at her plate. "Well ... To an extent. I told you how traveling upsets me."

"I remember."

"It upsets my ... rhythms. I'm a creature of habit, Ethan and a trip like this upsets my habits. I've come to anticipate it and I usually take some senna along with me. The problem with that is -- I never know when it's going to kick in. With all the workshops and evening sessions..." She looked up at me. "I don't think I pottied the whole time I was away."

"You must be pretty uncomfortable, then."

"I am. I said I'm a creature of habit, Ethan. When I'm out of my element, I really get discombobulated."

"I'd be glad to supply you with equipment and know-how," I replied. "This is something you can do yourself."

"I'm terribly inept at this sort of thing. You said you were a registered nurse."

"It's been twenty-five years since I administered an enema, Lize."

"I'm sure it's like riding a bike -- once you learn, you never forget. After reading your website I'm convinced you're knowledgeable and I trust you. And, I'm pretty desperate."

"I'd be happy to help you take an enema, Lize. Relief is just a few minutes away."

"Do you mean ... now?"

"If you're so uncomfortable -- the sooner the better."

"Well ... I asked for it."

"Your place or mine?" I regarded her. "You'd probably be more at ease in the comfort of familiar surroundings."

"Probably," she agreed.

"I'll go get the necessaries."

I headed into the basement and returned carrying a paper bag and a metal device. Lize led me into her unit and I set the bag on the kitchen counter. "This is a portable stand," I explained as I unfolded the metal device's legs. "It's a good seller. We modified it from a music stand." I began removing items from the paper bag. "We'll set up shop in your bedroom. Comfort is important when you're taking an enema."

Lize approached me. "Should I change?"

"We'll need access to your bottom," I replied. "I know ... be right back." I headed back to my side of the duplex and returned carrying an item in a clear plastic bag and handed it to her

She opened the bag and removed its contents. "A hospital gown? You sell these?"

"I do. You'd be surprised at the market for them."

"By now, nothing surprises me." She carried the gown in to her bedroom and closed the door.

I removed a box from the paper sack and began unwrapping cellophane. Lize returned wearing the hospital gown. "It's been years since I've worn one of these," she remarked and regarded the box I was opening. "Is that new?" she asked.

"Yes -- to make sure it's absolutely sanitary."

"How much do I owe you for all this?"

"Forget it. It's just a garden-variety, drugstore quality combo syringe. My cost on these is so low I won't worry about it. The gown and red bag together would be under ten bucks."

"And the stand?"

I shrugged. "That's a prototype. I can't sell it." I started assembling the apparatus -- sliding the plastic clamp on the hose and affixing the stopper attachment to one end and the straight enema pipe to the other. I began running water in the kitchen sink to warm it. "I'm going to put a little glycerin in the water," I said.

"What will that do?"

"It'll make the enema a bit more purgative. Up until a few years ago I would've used some Castile soap. Soapsuds enemas were de rigueur in hospitals at one time. The glycerin will serve the same purpose but it's gentler."

She picked up the bottle of glycerin. "I remember this -- you took my picture with it -- vegetable glycerin..."

"Yes. It's food grade ... which means it's also enema grade."

"How much do you use?"

"About two tablespoons per quart of water. I'm also adding some salt to make the solution better match your bodily fluids -- two teaspoons per quart. That will reduce the chance of you absorbing too much water." I measured the glycerin and table salt into a plastic pitcher and then added water from the tap, stirring the solution so it was thoroughly mixed. This went into the fountain syringe's bag.

"Well -- we're ready. Follow me." Lize followed me into her bedroom. "Do you have a towel you can spread on the bed?" I asked.

"Oh ... Yes..." She removed a bath sheet from a closet and unfolded it on the bed. I adjusted the height of the stand and hung the bag on it. "How should I be?"

"Lie on your back." Lize crawled onto her bed. "Uhh ... You WILL have to lose the panties I'm afraid."

"Oh, duh..." Lize reached under the hem of the gown and slid her briefs down her long, slender legs. She handed them to me and I set them on a chair.

"Okay -- want to feel your tummy."

Lize lay on the towel and tugged at the hem of the gown. It cut across her thighs a few inches above her knees. Gently, I palpitated her abdomen through the fabric of the gown. "I can feel some fullness in there." I gazed into her eyes. "I'm going to explain what's about to transpire," I said, touching her belly near her right hip. "Your colon starts here. It goes up to under your liver, across to your spleen and then back down." I traced the shape on her belly. "We're going to try to fill your entire colon with the enema solution. The distention from the enema should stimulate peristalsis, and the water should help soften whatever is in there. The glycerin will add a bit more stimulation."

"How much water?"

"It's a quart and a half," I replied. "Even if your colon is impacted you should be able to take that much."

"Will it hurt?"

"You may feel some discomfort," I replied. "We'll go slowly to keep any cramping to a minimum. As the enema progresses you may feel a sense of fullness or bloating -- that's normal. You shouldn't experience any real pain. If you do -- tell me right away and we'll stop. Okay?"

"I guess."

"Are you scared?" I asked.

"A little apprehensive," she replied. "It does look like a lot of water."

"Don't worry -- I know what I'm doing, and I know how to keep discomfort to a minimum. I want you to lie on your left side and draw up your knees."

Lize complied with my request and I covered her legs and feet with the afghan that lay folded on the foot of her bed. I pulled on a latex exam glove. "I'm going to put some lubricating gel on your bottom. I'm also going to feel inside to see if there's anything abnormal that would counter indicate taking the enema."

I squeezed a blob of gel onto my gloved finger. With my left hand I lifted the gown to uncover her bottom.

"So, this is why these things close in the back," she remarked.

"It does make this sort of procedure go a bit more smoothly." I gently spread her buttocks to expose her pinkish-brown anus, surrounded by an oval patch of more darkly pigmented skin and some short, light brown hairs. This led me to believe that Lize kept her pubic hair untrimmed and natural -- not that it was any of my business, but this sort of thing was tough to avoid speculating about with a patient as attractive as she. "This might feel cold. Just relax..."

I worked the lube into her anus, delving my finger deeply into her rectum. "Everything feels normal." I snapped open the clamp to flush air from the hose, catching the outflow in the pitcher; then snapped it closed again. "Here comes the nozzle..." I applied some lube to the enema pipe, then touched its tip to her orifice, gently eased it past her sphincter and into her rectum. "Squeeze your cheeks together against the hose fitting," I advised. "That will keep it in place. Otherwise these things have a habit of popping out." I lowered the hem of her gown to cover her.

I pulled the glove off, inside out, and dropped it into the wastebasket. "Now, I want you to straighten your left leg a bit ... keep your right knee bent and roll partway onto your belly ... slip your left arm behind your back ... that's it..." I adjusted her knee. "Relax your body and let your face rest against the bed. This is the Sims position. It straightens the lower part of your colon and puts it slightly downhill." I regarded her slender, pale legs and the enema hose leading up under the gown. "Are you okay?"

"Okay so far," she replied.

"When I start the enema the first thing you're apt to feel is some pressure in your rectum and an urge to go. You'll need to stifle that urge, Lize; but that shouldn't be difficult. Once the fluid works its way deeper into your colon that sensation should pass and the enema should proceed more easily. If you should feel pressure or cramping, tell me and I'll stop the flow until it subsides. Understand?"

She nodded. "Understood."

"Remember -- as the enema proceeds to completion you may start feeling a sensation of fullness or discomfort in your belly. That's normal. One thing you should not feel is pain. Tell me right away if you do." Lize nodded in comprehension. "Ready?"

"Ready."

I stood so I could see her face and read her expression. "Then, here we go ... try to relax." With a snap I opened the clamp.

"I feel it," she remarked. "It's warm..."

I let the enema flow for about five seconds and closed the clamp. "What are you feeling?" I asked.

"I feel like I need to ... to pass some gas," she replied.