Chapter 9

Happy that Mel wasn’t too stressed to relax her sphincter muscles, I unhooked the nearest shower-head and unscrewed it from its hose. In its place, I screwed a clever device I had bought in Japan, a slender nozzle incorporating some impressive technological wizardry and a small LCD display. I used its controls to give a quick blast of water in order to flush out any stale water from the hose. Then I set the speed of the water flow to a fast trickle. Using the shower’s temperature controls, I used the device’s temperature reading to adjust the water temperature to a fraction over body temperature.

“What are you doing?” asked Mel, who now had an apprehensive expression on her face.

“I’m going to make sure your bum is nice and empty inside.”

“I am! I went yesterday,” insisted Mel. She looked worried but made no move to get up.

I stopped the water flow and retrieved the bottle of lube I had bought the previous evening, squirting the lube to liberally coat the nozzle. Then I had Mel pull her bum cheeks wide apart and squirted some lube on Mel’s pink starfish, gently making sure it too was well coated.

“What was that? What are you doing now?” asked Mel.

“That was the cream I mentioned. It’s an antimicrobial lubricant.” I positioned the end of the nozzle against Mel’s pucker so she could feel it. “Now relax your bum hole muscles,” I said, giving the nozzle a gentle push.

There was momentary resistance then the nozzle slowly slid into Mel’s bum hole.

“There, that didn’t hurt, did it!” I said.

“No,” admitted Mel, “but it feels funny.”

“Now try to stop anything leaking from your bum hole,” I said, “and let me know when you think you can’t hold it in any longer.” I fiddled with the nozzle’s settings to set its meter back to zero then turned the water back on so that it trickled into Mel’s bowels.

“I can feel it,” exclaimed Mel. “It’s sort of nice but it’s making me feel squishy inside.”

“I’m giving you an enema. Have you ever had one before?”

“No.”

“Didn’t your mum give you one when you had constipation?”

“Never,” insisted Mel.

My parents never gave me enemas either, but it was a different story for one of my semi-regular women friends and was the reason she got turned onto anal sex. I’d had her in mind when I purchased the device currently embedded in Mel’s bum, but hadn’t yet had an opportunity to use it with her.

Keeping my dominant right hand free to manipulate the device’s controls and stop Mel expelling the nozzle with her internal muscles, I slid my left hand between her legs and placed my palm on Mel’s soft, warm, newly-hairless belly, gently caressing it.

“I feel full,” eventually Mel complained.

I could feel Mel’s internal muscles clenching and unclenching, trying to hold in the water. I looked at the meter reading - barely half a pint. I stopped the flow. “That’s not very much water,” I said. “You can hold more than that. Just rest a while until you adjust, then we’ll try for a little more.”

“Okay,” said Mel uncertainly.

I continued caressing Mel’s belly until I felt she was no longer clenching and unclenching her internal muscles. “You’re doing very well,” I encouraged. “I’m going to restart the water.” I turned on the water again and repositioned my left hand so that I could rub Mel’s shaved pussy. I wasn’t trying to bring her to orgasm, but to keep her aroused enough to provide a distraction.

By the time Mel resorted to clenching and unclenching her muscles again, the gauge on the device showed nearly a pint. I turned off the flow of water and placed my hand back on Mel’s belly. “Very good,” I said, “now try to hold it.”

After a couple of minutes or so, Mel’s muscle clenches seemed to lose their urgency. “Squeeze tight,” I warned, “I’m about to remove the nozzle. Try not to leak.” I quickly pulled out the nozzle and Mel only spilt a couple of drops. “Now go and empty the water down the toilet,” I said.