| Subject: Re: Therapy - Emotional intimate moment |
Author:
AV
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Date Posted: Sunday, July 14, 2024, 06:38: am
In reply to:
AV
's message, "Therapy" on Friday, June 07, 2024, 08:28: am
The beginning of my enema journey started at 12 years old after mom decided to stop giving me enemas, week after week, urge after urge, heart racing after heart racing, and enema after enema continued. After one year, around 13 years old, I entered into a new journey, a new experience, a new heart racing that would last for even more years and took the enema bulb - bottom relationship to a whole new level.
It all started like any other enema bath night. Still doing everything with the bulb on the sink counter smiling to feeling the piercing of the tip to the now wonderful feeling of the warm soapy water in me, to imagining me crying out all like before in all of my other evenings. But one enema evening something changed. I was lying over the toilet as I had done often slowly squeezing the second bulb into me when my little 13 year old solider guy touched the side of the toilet and came to attention and saluted. As I was finishing squeezing the second bulb into me, my body pressed against the toilet and the soldier guy became activated. I was so immature and lived a basic simple isolated life and something was happening. My soldier guy was shooting and all this creamy stuff was hitting the floor next to the toilet. I immediately jumped up and lifted the lid and let the rest go into the toilet. I could not stop it. I was now touching myself and it felt wonderful. My heart raced faster but I was scared. I didn’t know what this was shooting out of my pee hole. I knew I was in trouble. I sit down to release the enema and went through my motions as my solider guy finished up and started going back to sleep as I pushed the BM out. I didn’t know anything but I knew that feeling and those emotions I enjoyed. But what was it? Was something now wrong with me? Was I sick? Was it cancer? I thought I was going to have to tell mom and dad. I thought I was going to have to go to the hospital. The doctor would expose me and mom would know I was giving myself an enema and enemas through the last year. I would be in trouble. How was I going to tell mom and dad? I couldn’t. Everything looks ok. I feel ok. I feel great. Im more tired. Whatever that was wore me out in a good way. I checked my solider guy. He looked ok. He was tired as well. Had him a good workout. I cleaned everything up. I would wait and see what happens to me.
During that time, war on drugs was big and encouraging parents to have “the talk” with your kids. So, there was this weekly tv show, a hospital drama show that I loved to watch. In this episode this boy was in the hospital because of cancer. He had a beautiful female nurse. He would go into the closet often. One day, his female nurse was absent and a male nurse came in and caught the boy in the closet. The boy was mad and they went through the episode with the boy denying anything wrong in the closet and was mad at the male nurse. Eventually the male nurse got the boy to tell him what was going on. The boy told him he was releasing “his cancer.” The male nurse basically explained in a subtle general way what was really happening and it had nothing to do with his cancer and it was all natural and ok. The episode basically was opening the door and giving the parents the opportunity to have “the talk.”
I got some basic information.
All I knew was what was happening to me was not cancer, all natural, and ok. Well, I wanted to experience it again then. I wanted to control when I did this.
I decided to use some toilet paper on the floor to catch the mess for easy clean up. I set the environment up. Did everything I always did on every enema night. This night was different though. Was I going to be able to carry this out and be able to get my little solider guy to stand to attention and salute. Was that going to work? During the enema time, I would now make myself intimate with the enema. My solider guy did activate during the second bulb. I helped it by slightly pressing against the toilet. The enema was still in me. My bottom squeezed the bulb and bulb tip. The bulb - bottom relationship moved to bottom - bulb relationship. My bottom felt like it was kissing the bulb. I could only imagine how that bulb felt so happy being cuddled by my bottom. My solider guy saluted even more and shot. Oh my goodness! I gave in to all the emotions. Craziness. There I was lying over the toilet doing what I was doing. I did not want to release the enema, not yet. I wanted my little soldier guy to finish this time all the way. There I was, a 13 year old body, experiencing something new and enjoyable. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. The bulb wiggled and jiggled. My toes curled. My little solider guy shot and shot and shot again and again. I wanted to freeze this moment. I slowly lifted myself with my arms as my solider guy continued, as the bulb held tight, as my toes continued. My eyes glazed and closed. I begin to imagine how that bulb felt. My bottom felt wonderful. Their bond was sealed and taken to an all new high. Yes, that’s what it was. I was high. I had taken a drug like we talked about in health class. I wanted to continue this high again and again. My solider guy finished. I laid my head on the cold floor and closed my eyes and took a deep breath to control my breathing and heart beat. I finally reached and gripped the bulb. It was tight in my bottom. My bottom held it even though I still had the enema in me. I stood and sit on the toilet to release as I continued to feel all the emotions in my body as my solider guy rested. I cleaned up everything. My mind raced for a few minutes in bed as I was controlling my heart racing. I wanted to release the enema first next time and then lay back over the toilet. So that is what I did. I could not wait until my next urge. I wanted to do it the next night. Yes, the next night I would release the enema first and then lay back over the toilet so I could completely give in to all of these emotions and feelings without worrying about the enema in me. This was going to be messy but that desire was driving me. The next night, another bath, another enema. It was time. I even dipped the tip of the bulb back into the warm soapy water. I repositioned myself back over the toilet. Made sure my little solider guy was over the target of the tissue. And all over again. After my little solider guy finished, relaxed, and went to sleep, I would lay my head on the cold floor and relax as well. I wanted to experience it all. Because I laid back over the toilet soon after releasing, I had to help hold the bulb for a few minutes until my bottom gripped it tight. Everything, the toes curling, the eyes rolling, the bulb wiggling. The high, not the same as before but I understood that from health class when we discussed drugs. This was my drug. I wanted to experience this not just once a week, not just urge moments but every night. Yes, my heart raced. Yes, every night would be bath enema night. Yes, little solider guy, every night you standing to attention and saluting.
Reaching back and touching the bulb, it was so tight in my bottom. I took a moment and rubbed the bulb like I was letting it know it was ok. It was happy. I imagined the bulb knew. It was waiting on my mind to completely approve of this bond. It was no longer bulb bottom but bottom bulb relationship. My bottom wanted the bulb. My mind wanted my bottom to want the bulb.
As I rubbed the bulb with my fingers, I wanted to squeeze it so bad. Wait? Could my bottom handle a fourth bulb? Could I eventually empty all the warm soapy water from the cup container into my bottom?
I wanted to so badly to squeeze that tight bulb a fourth time in my bottom. Could I handle it. I knew the bulb could handle it. It would be in bottom heaven if it got squeezed after my rubbing and my bottom tightly holding it plus doing so would change my enema bulb life forever. My mind would give in and approve of those feelings of more warm soapy water shooting into me by a tight enema bulb during that emotional intimate moment with my bottom.
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