by Tim Court
"Well?" he asked as we walked out of the store.
"Well, what?" I said.
"You have to let me give you one now. That was the deal the two of us had made, remember? You saw that people really do it when they're having sex."
"I don't think that was real," I said to him. "I think that they let her empty herself before the guy entered. I think that it's impossible to hold ail that oil in you while you're being fucked, especially if you get into the orgasm."
"Why don't we just experiment and try it out?"
"No," I said.
"But you made me a promise. You said that I would be able to do it."
"Bruce, if you had lost, would you let me give you one? No, I didn't think so. I'm sorry I made that promise to begin with. I never would have if I thought I was going to 'lose The idea of having an enema under sexual circumstances turns me off completely,"
I could see that he was upset about it, but he didn't try to force it.
INTERVIEW TWO
The second time Elissa came to see me she looked like she had put on a little weight and it did her good. Her cheeks didn't look as withdrawn as before and there was more color in her face this time.
She wore a lovely yellow blouse which made her hair look so much lighter and more becoming, and didn't seem at all hesitant about talking.
I think that maybe I should have let Bruce give me an enema the way I promised I would, but I just didn't. I should have because if he had, then maybe it wouldn't have been so bad when the enema rapist attacked me.
I can tell by that look on your face, doctor, that you think Bruce might have been the one who attacked me. Well, you're wrong. Bruce was at my house with my other friends waiting for me to get home when it happened. In fact, he was the one who gave me the most comfort the ambulance came and I was taken to the hospital.
God, I'll never forget the Way Bruce argued with me for weeks about my welching on the bet, and even though we were still seeing each other and sometimes fucking each other, he never once tried to force an enema on me, even though he had the right to. Sometimes, after we were finished fucking, he would start in again.
"You'd like it even more if you were filled with water. Or oil would be even better."
"Oh, Bruce, just the thought of it is making my stomach turn. I think I'm going to be sick all over your chest."
When I said things like that, he would usually stop pressuring me.
God, how I wish I hadn't said things like that. If I had only let him give me one before that rapist did, I know I would have taken the attack better.
I'll tell you about the attack now. It happened, as I've said, on the day of my sixteenth birthday. I kind of suspected that my mother was planning a surprise party because I saw certain things hidden around the house that made me think that way. Then, at about six-thirty, she asked me to go to the store for the most ridiculous reason.
"I need some more brown sugar," she said. "Elissa, would you be a doll and run down to the store to get it?"
"Why?" I asked. "We have plenty of white in the house."
"You know that your father-likes brown sugar and I have none for his coffee tonight. Please run to the store."
When she became so insistent, I kind of got the feeling that she just wanted me out of the house. I put two and two together and realized that she needed some time for my friends to show up. So I took the money she gave me and went off to the store.
Now it was daylight saving's time so it was still pretty light outside. I always thought that our old neighborhood was safe anyway.
I went to the store and got the sugar, even though I was sure I didn't have to. When I looked at the clock in the store I saw that it was only seven. I had been out of the house for about a half an hour and I thought that I might as well take the long way home just to give those late arrivals a chance to show up.
That was why I was walking down Smith Street. As I passed by this big green house on Smith Street, I noticed that it looked deserted. There was a 'For Sale' sign on the house and that was the first time I had noticed it. I didn't know when the people had moved out.
That house had always intrigued me, however, and I just walked up the front path to look in the window. I couldn't see anything because it was too dark inside. I just looked in the front window, and then started to turn and leave.
As I did, the front door must have opened and someone stepped out. I didn't hear anything, but I felt it instead.
Someone put their hand over my mouth and then started to drag me backwards into the house. Of course I tried to struggle and scream but he was much more powerful than I was. As you can see just by looking at me, I'm not the strongest person in the world to begin with. Besides, the person behind me was much taller than me and felt so much more stocky and strong.
I was dragged into the house and the door was slammed shut. Once inside, I felt him pull his hand from my mouth and the next thing I knew, he was stuffing a gag in its place. He tied the gag around my mouth and then pushed me down to the floor.
I rolled on my back and tried to look at him. But he had a stocking over his face, and I could hardly make out any features. I could make out his body, though, for he quickly took off the coat he was wearing and I saw that he was naked underneath.
He had a hairy body and a huge cock that scared the hell out of me. I could feel my eyes popping out of my head when I looked at him and I knew he was going to fuck me. I prepared myself for it, especially when he got down on his knees and started to rip at my clothing. He pulled off my pants and panties first and started to finger my blonde-haired snatch.
When I tried to squeeze my legs together to keep him from entering me he socked me hard in the stomach and knocked all the air out of me.
"I would watch it if I was you, bitch," he said, and then he started to finger my pussy again. I got a little wet, but not too much.
I faked it. I figured that he was trying to work me toward an orgasm and I knew that I could probably get away with faking it. I started to moan passionately and thrust my ass up and down off the dirty floor. He seemed to be getting off on it for his cock, which was resting on my belly, seemed to be pulsating.
As soon as I had acted like I came out of the orgasm, he stood up, grabbed me by the arms, and started to pull me across the floor. He dragged me down the hall and into the small bathroom where he flicked on the light.
I could make out his body a little better now, but what I made out even more clearly was the enema bag which was full and sitting on the closed toilet seat. When I saw that bag I got so scared and started to tremble.
"What's the matter, bitch, you don't like enemas?" he asked me.
I couldn't answer him, of course, since I had the gag in my mouth. But I moaned a little in pain just to try and give him some idea, and I even shook my head back and forth to tell him no, I don't like enemas.
Of course he didn't care. He sat on my belly and chest and pulled my legs up over his shoulders. I could feel his finger probing my ass-hole, and it was a tight fit. I'd never let Bruce touch my ass-hole because I never really liked the feeling. I once tried to finger my own ass-hole, just to see if I could ever get into it because I thought it might be fun to be ass-fucked, and that was when I discovered that I had a sensitive ass-hole and didn't like it one bit.
That wasn't going to stop my rapist, however. He slid another finger in.
"I'm just trying to stretch you a little more so I can get the damn nozzle into your puckered hole," he said, rubbing his naked ass on my tits.
Soon there were three fingers inside of my ass and by that time, I was stretched to the limit. He seemed to sense it, too, for he didn't try to put in a forth. Instead, he just massaged my ass-hole a little, then pulled out his fingers and put the enema nozzle there instead. I felt a forceful flow of rushing warm water.
I thought back to that time in the hospital when I had gotten an enema, and although there had been some discomfort, I ha
d gotten over it by telling myself that it was all for medicinal purposes. I couldn't tell myself something like that this time because I could feel the man's hot balls and throbbing cock resting on my belly and I knew that the whole thing was for sex.
I thought of the film that I had seen and how the girl had supposedly held all the oil in her while the man fucked her. As the water continued to rush into me, I couldn't imagine how she did it.
My desire was to let it gush out of me as soon as the nozzle would be pulled because it was too uncomfortable. However, as the bag started to empty and I felt all this water inside of me, my rapist said something.
"You hold it in now or else I'll kill you."
Then he pulled the nozzle out. I don't know how he expected me to hold it in but he hardly even saw it dripping out of me. For as soon as he had it out he climbed around and positioned himself between my spread legs. He rubbed his cock against my pussy lips and then thrust his way inside of me.
The initial thrust of his cock sent most of the water gushing out of me right away.
I guess he could feel some of it on his legs, which were on the floor between mine, and that was why he slapped me across the face a few times, hard. But I was getting the worst of the dripping water because I was laying in it. I could feel the water mixed with my shit, and even smelled it.
But the rapist didn't seem to mind. He kept driving his cock into me so that he seemed to move deeper with each thrust. I could feel his two hot balls whacking me on the buttocks and I tried lifting my ass up off the wet tile floor just so I wouldn't have to lie in my shit.
Sometimes I was able to, but each time he thrust in it was with such a force that the weight of his body pressed me against the floor once again.
It got to the point where is was just soaking wet. But he didn't seem to care. I could feel his cock pulsating in my pussy time and time again, and he didn't do much to try and come right away. Each time he seemed to be on the verge of coming he would slow down a little, as if he knew he had all the time in the world.
He did, too, and I have to be grateful for the fact that he finally did let himself go all the way. When he did, I could feel my cunt being filled with load after load of his thick cock cream and by the time he had finished shooting off, his cock was already shrinking in my pussy. He flopped out of me and landed on my pussy patch, then stood up over me. He kicked me once, hard in the stomach, and then he started to laugh. He turned and walked out of the bathroom.
I lay there for a long time, too scared to get up because I thought that he could be waiting for me outside of the bathroom. I did reach for the gag and I pulled it off and then sat up. In a few minutes, I could hear the front door slamming.
I didn't know for sure that he had left then, but there was no reason for me to keep lying there. I stumbled to my feet, tried to arrange my clothes as best as I possibly could, and then I ran out of that house as fast as my feet would take me.
The energy that carried me from the deserted house to my own house was energy I didn't even know I had. I think my adrenalin must have been working fast because I got home okay, but then I just collapsed.
Well, the police searched the house and they found the empty enema bag and the gag, all lying in the bathroom in a heap of shit. So I'm told. They haven't caught the man who did it to me, and I don't really think that they ever will.
I'm no help because the man was wearing a mask and everything. But let me tell you the result of this thing, which I didn't know until last week. I went to visit my friend in the hospital after I left here last week and I saw an enema bag hanging up near her bed. I got violently sick and threw up all over the floor. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at an enema bag again without that happening.
CONCLUSION
I feel sorry for Elissa because of her sickened reaction on seeing an enema bag and I told her she would have to try and overcome this feeling since chances were good that she would see other bags during her lifetime. I recommended 'Waterpower' to her, thinking that if she could watch an enema on screen again (like she did with Bruce in the porn shop) it might be a step to her recovery.
I think that the rape hurt Elissa even more because it was her sixteenth birthday and a day for happiness and partying. Instead, for her, it turned out to be a day of nightmare and terror, one that will haunt her for years to come.
CASE HISTORY EIGHT
SUBJECT: Val D. AGE: Thirteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Val is one of the youngest patients I've interviewed and I feel that her case is also one of the most harrowing ones I've ever heard. It's easy to see why someone would be attracted to the girl, particularly a step-father who was the rapist in this case.
Val is short, thin, and very voluptuous for her age. Her breasts are much larger than the breasts one would expect on a thirteen-year-old and her figure seems to have the rounded curves one would expect of a woman.
The one thing that impressed me the most about this girl/woman was her complete and open attitude in talking about what must have been an extremely terrifying situation.
When my father died and then my mother decided to remarry less than two months later, I knew that she needed the comfort of a man more than anything else. I knew it even more when I met Herb for the first time. He just made me feel funny.
He always seemed to have bristly stubbles like he hadn't shaved in the longest time, and his breath always smelled of alcohol. I thought he was pretty disgusting and I remember telling my mother what I thought the day she told me she was going to marry him. She didn't have much to say in his defense.
"I know that he might not strike you as the most appealing man in the world," she said to me, "but I need a man. You'll understand these things when you grow older."
It didn't take growing older for me to understand that she needed a man for sex. Even though I was still a virgin, until my step-father raped me, I know that was the only reason she wanted him.
They got married two weeks after she told me she was going to. It was a small, civil ceremony, and I didn't even go. They went to a motel nearby for their honeymoon night and I hoped that my mother was getting what she wanted.
When Herb moved into our apartment things changed. First of all, he was a slob and my mother and I were always picking up after him. Second, he seemed to love his naked body so much that he was always parading around the house in the nude. I saw his naked, hairy body the second day he had moved in and I remember thinking that I couldn't understand the attraction. His limp cock seemed so wrinkly and ugly.
My mother noticed him walking by me in the nude' and that night I could hear them talking about in their bedroom.
"Please don't do that again," my mother was saying. "She's just a young girl growing up and I don't like it."
"Don't tell me what to do," he said.
"I'm not telling you. I'm asking you as a favor to me."
Then I heard a slap. I knew that someone had hit someone else and I snuck out of my bed so that I could peep through their keyhole. By the time I got there I could see that Herb was the one hitting my mother, and he was hitting her hard. They were yelling at each other, about me.
They were both naked and I could see that Herb's cock was hard this time. My mother continued to protest as he hit her again and again.
"This is my house, too, you know. At least it is now that I married you and I'll walk around the way I feel like walking around."
I could tell that he was really hurting my mother for she was actually groaning in pain. But then she reached for his cock and when she touched it, he closed his eyes and started to moan. I thought that she had him at some kind of vulnerable point or something, but then he was reaching for her spread pussy and she moaned.
It was almost like a struggle to see who could turn who on the fastest and keep the other vulnerable. I don't really know who won because my mother started to pull his hard cock near her cunt and she spread her legs and let him slide into her. A
s soon as he had thrust his way in deep, I looked at the expression on her face.
His fucking her had put her completely in his power. She closed her eyes and got lost under his body, opening her mouth and letting out the longest, most soothing moan I'd ever heard. She wrapped her legs around his taut buttocks and started to massage them with her feet.
I watched his body start to drip with sweat and I still couldn't understand the attraction of his cock at all.
Then he started to grunt and he arched his back. He was coming inside of her, I'm sure, because by the time he pulled out his cock was completely limp. My mother just lay there as if all the energy had been knocked out of her, and I have to admit that she looked so content. She looked more content than I had ever seen her since my father's funeral, and that fuck made me start to think about sex a lot more.