I still remember my first enema - it's my second oldest memory. From what I can remember, I had to be about 2 1/2. I remember being on my mom's lap while she sat on the side of the bathtub, and seeing my dad standing by the door holding a red bag in his hand. I think (from what I know now) it was about 1/2 full, but I'm not sure. I remember crying as my mom pushed something into my butt, but it didn't hurt, it just annoyed me. I heard a click, felt pressure in my butt and clamped down (so I was already toilet trained, which I now know happened when I was 2 and 3 months), and my mom saying my dad's name and nodding upward. I saw my dad lift the bag up to about shoulder height, and my tummy suddenly hurt something awful. I felt a strong need to poop, and tried to push, which relaxed my anus, and my mom nodded downward to my dad, who lowered the bag. My mom pinched my butt when I tried to poop, and I don't think any water came out, but my tummy didn't hurt as much. My mom said it wouldn't hurt as much if I didn't fight it. I tried harder to poop, and whatever was happening made me feel better, so I kept trying to poop for a while. I remember clamping down again, my mom nodding to my dad to raise the bag, and the rush of pain in my tummy, so I tried harder to poop, my dad lowered the bag, and it hurt less.
I remember it hurting more and more, the feeling I had to poop getting worse and worse, and crying to my mom that I had to poop. My mom said I only needed a little more, then I could poop. I kept trying to poop and my mom kept pinching my butt so I couldn't, while my tummy ache got worse and worse. Suddenly the pain became different and much worse, and I screamed. I heard a click, my mom pulled something out of my butt and immediately pinched my cheeks together harder. Then she stood up, stepped to the toilet, and put me on my potty seat while letting go of my butt.
My mom sat on the tub across from me while I pooped and told me I had gotten clogged up and needed a bath inside me to wash the poop out. She told me I could prevent it from happening again by eating my vegetables and telling her I needed to poop as soon as I felt the need.
It must have worked, because I don't remember getting another enema until I was in school.
I remember having a tummy ache at school, the teacher taking me to the teachers' room to try to poop, and nothing happening. She sent me home with a note for my mom.
When I got home, my mom told me to go to my room, get undressed, and get into bed. After a while, she came into my room and told me I needed a bath inside my tussy to wash the poop out. She asked me if I'd like to help get it ready, and I said yes. I didn't think about the pain of my first enema, so I cooperated.
We walked into the bathroom and my mom handed me the cup from over the sink and the Ivory soap bar we used to wash our hands. She told me to swish the water around with the soap bar until it looked sudsy. When it did, she held up the enema bag and told me to pour the water in.
When I saw the bag, my memory of the first time came rushing back to me. I told my mom NO, it hurts so much, but my mom said I was much bigger now, so it wouldn't be as bad, that my tummy already hurt because I was clogged up with poop, and that washing it out with soapy water was the only way to help me feel better quickly. My tummy did hurt, and I did want to feel better, so I still helped.
My mom had me make soapy water over and over, and I poured it into the bag each time, until foam started to come out the top. My mom squeezed the bag and sprinkled water on the foam until soapy water showed in the top, then she had me make more soapy water. We kept doing it until the bag was full. My mom told me she could take that much, but I couldn't hold a whole bagful yet. She told me the more I took, and the longer I kept it inside me, the better it would work and the softer it would make my poop. Then she told me I could have a bath (which I loved) and choose what she made for dinner if I took at least half of it and kept it inside me at least 10 minutes.
There was a red hose with a black tube on one end hanging over the shower curtain rod. She screwed the other (wide) end into the bag of soapy water. She took a coat hanger from the door knob, put the hook end through the bottom of the bag, and hooked it over the curtain rod. She left it dangling into the tub while she got the Vaseline out of the medicine cabinet. Then she sat down on the bathmat over the side of the tub, took the folded bath towel from the top of the clothes hamper, and put it on her lap. She told me to lie down on top of it.
My mom held the hose in one hand with the tube (I think it was about 3/16 inch wide and 1 1/2 inches long) pointing up while she briefly opened the clamp. Water squirted out the top and out 4 rows of 4 holes each on the sides. My mom said she had gotten rid of any air that was in the hose, because air would make my tummy hurt. She got a large blob of Vaseline on the end of her finger and rubbed it on the tube until it was all shiny, then she pushed what was left into my bottom and rubbed it around the outside. I clamped down when I felt the tube touch my bottom, but the tube and my bottom were both slippery, so it slid right in.
My mom told me it would hurt if I squeezed while the water was flowing, and that she'd squeeze my cheeks against the tube so I didn't have to worry about any water leaking out. She said I should push like I was trying to poop if my tummy hurt because that would help stop it from hurting and open me up for the water to flow in easily. She told me to yell if it hurt a lot, and she'd let me rest for a while. She told me to take a real deep breath when I was ready to start.
I told myself "I need this to feel better", decided I was ready, and took a deep breath. I heard a click and felt something tickling the inside of my bottom. I love to be tickled, and it felt wonderful. I blurted "This feels wonderful!" to my mom. My mom told me to keep breathing as deeply as I could, and I did, while I also wiggled around to try to get the best tickling feeling. I couldn't believe I'd been afraid of it. I felt nice and warm inside, and I loved the tickling feeling. My tummy started really hurting, but I didn't say anything because the tickling was so nice. I didn't say a word until I felt immense pressure inside, like I was about to explode. Then I screamed "Stop".
I heard my mom click it off as soon as I screamed. The terrible pressure went away quickly, but my tummy hurt a lot, and I needed to poop pretty badly. My mom told me to keep breathing deeply, and let her know when I felt better. In a little while my tummy ache started turning into an urge to poop. I wanted to feel the tickling again more than I wanted to not hurt, so I told my mom OK.
I heard the click and felt the tickling right away. My tummy hurt more, but it was worth it as long as the pain wasn't horrible. I kept trying to get the most tickling while my tummy hurt more and more. I hadn't learned about masturbation yet, but I knew I really liked what the tickling was doing to me.
I knew what was coming this time, so I didn't scream when the awful pressure hit, I just said "Stop again". Again, my mom clicked it off right away, and the feeling I was about to explode started going away. My mom asked me if I thought I could take any more, and I told her my tummy hurt a lot, but the water tickled me when it was flowing, and I really liked it. I told her I'd let her know when she should start again. I did so as soon as I didn't hurt too much.
Again and again, I had my mom give me more, and got that wonderful tickling each time. The last time, I didn't make her stop, I heard a gurgling sound from the bag followed by the click as my mom turned it off, and my mom told me I had taken the whole 2 quarts! I didn't complain about my tummy ache, I asked her when I could have another bath like this. My mom said it might hurt my insides if I did it more than once a week, and she'd only give it to me if I really needed it, but she'd show me how to do it myself, and suggested it would be convenient to take it before my regular bath, if I wanted a bath inside, too.
My mom sat on the tub while I pooped, and explained that the soapy water softened my poop and helped make it slippery so it would come out easily, and also made my insides need to get rid of it all, so I should always make the water soapy if I did it myself. She said the bathtub would be the safest place to take it if I did it myself, and that she'd teach me everything I'd need to do when I wanted it.
Over and over, I'd get a bad tummy ache, then I'd feel a strong need to poop and start pushing while my tummy ache got worse and worse, until finally soapy water would explode out of me. I didn't say anything about how bad it felt because I wanted my mom to let me have baths inside me as often as possible. When I went 15 minutes without having to poop, my mom started the water running in the tub, told me to take twice as much toilet paper as usual, and to blot my bottom. Then she got a washcloth and soap and got the cloth dripping soapy water. She handed it to me, and told me to wash off my bottom. While I did so, she turned the hamper sideways against the tub and told me to walk back and forth between the window and bathroom door. By the second time, my tummy ache and need to poop were back, but my mom had me keep walking until I felt like I couldn't hold it any more. My tummy ache was awful before I got back on the toilet, and the explosion was bigger than before. While I pooped, my mom cleaned the washcloth. Then we repeated the cleanup process. I had to do it a few more times before my tummy ache and need to poop stopped coming back.
When I was finally finished, my mom taught me to wash the tube, rinse all the pieces, and put everything away. Then she taught me to get everything out, assemble the enema set, mix the soapy water, fill the bag and get it ready to use. She asked me if the nice feeling was worth all the pain I'd had, and I said it was. She started draining the tub and taught me to stand on the hamper to hang the bag from the curtain rod, and again to get out the Vaseline. She had me get on my hands and knees in the tub, let the air out of the hose, put Vaseline on the tube and in my bottom, and slide the tube in. Then she told me to hold the tube all the way in with my right hand while I pinched my cheeks against it with my left, and pointed out that I could easily use my right hand to work the clamp because the tube couldn't slide out while I was pinching my cheeks against it. She had me reach up and open the clamp for a moment, then close it right away.
I chose steak, corn and string beans (all my favorites) for dinner and my mom told me she had to go downstairs to start getting ready, but there were two things I had to know before I started the water up:
First, when I was ready for my bath, I should turn both faucets on halfway, feel the water briefly, then adjust the faucets until it felt hot, but still good running down the inside of my wrist.
Second, when older boys take a bath inside, they sometimes put Vaseline on their hand and rub their pep-pee up and down because it makes it feel even better. I was probably too young for it, but if I wanted to try it, to make sure the tube was all the way in before I opened the clamp.
With that she went downstairs. I got Vaseline on my right hand and pushed the tube all the way in while I pinched my cheeks against it. On my knees in the tub, I reached up and snapped the clamp open. The tickling was wonderful again, so I let go of the clamp and started rubbing my pep-pee. Now it felt even better. My tummy hurt more, but I didn't care because the tickling and rubbing at the same time felt so good. My pep-pee got longer and firmer, and felt better and better. Even when I started to feel the terrible pressure, I didn't stop to close the clamp until it felt so horrible I couldn't take any more. Then I snapped the clamp off as quickly as I could and got my hand right back to my pep-pee. The rubbing didn't feel nearly as good without the tickling, so I opened the clamp as soon as I thought I could stand it.
Again and again, I kept the water flowing until the feeling I was about to explode became unbearable, then only kept it off until it wasn't quite so bad. The feeling in my pep-pee got better and better until it was even better than the tickling. I started to feel like my whole body was shaking, and even feeling like I was about to explode couldn't make me stop. The feeling my whole body was shaking became overwhelming and something shot out of my pep-pee over and over. I didn't stop until I heard the bag gurgle, and then I only stopped long enough to shut the clamp.
I didn't stop rubbing until the shaking stopped. Then I noticed how bad my tummy hurt. Still pinching my cheeks, I managed to stand up, walk to the toilet, and pull out the tube. I didn't let go until I was sitting on my hand, and then the explosion hit so quickly the poop sprayed my hand, but it was worth it. I wiped off my hand with toilet paper and just let the tummy aches and explosions happen.
My tummy hurt worse than it ever had before, but that didn't stop me from repeating it almost every week. I never got another enema from my mom, nor from anyone else until I was in the hospital for minor surgery. I refused to let the nurse give me a Fleet Enema, insisting she fill me with soapy water instead. Sadly, the enema kit had a wide hole, and she wouldn't hold it high enough to tickle me, so all I got for my trouble was cramps.
Nowadays, I take my own equipment to the hospital with me, and ask the intern to write "Enemas as requested by pt." in my orders. I adapted the tube from an "Infant Enema Syringe" to the 6 foot tube from a barium bag and fastened that to the outlet of a 2 1/2 gallon SunShower so I can duplicate the feelings I remember from my second enema. To this day, I still masturbate with it, and usually cram in about a gallon and a half before I'm finished.
Note: While this would make a good story, it's actually what happened, to the best of my memory. Just writing it down has made me so hot I'm going to take soapsuds now, so I'll be gone for a while.