Enemas growing up from Mothers and Aunts

I grew up getting enemas for constipation and when I was sick. Certainly being home sick from school meant an enema. During that era people weren't about to rush off to the doctor first thing and every home had a jar of Vick; bottles of Pepto-bismal, Bromo-seltzer, and cough syrup that mom tried to convince us tasted like cherry but didn't; a vaporizer; and an enema bag. We heard expressions like "a good cleaning out" and "a nice enema". I think the hall closets of every house on our street were stocked the same, too. At least those of my friends were.

I remember when my mom put me in her lap, putting my underwear down to my toes and my aunt standing and holding the enema can, with one hand on me and the other hand holding the hose and the black thin nozzle, while my mom put Vaseline in my ass. I was 6 or 7 years old and crying a lot.

Then my mom would grab the black nozzle and bury it into my rectum, while my aunt would stand beside me holding the enema can until all the water ran into me.

I remember my aunt saying: "relax, it is for your good", while my mom held the nozzle in deeply.

I hated enemas then.

Early on, I experimented sexually with others in a group setting; of my own age. Granted at the time we didn't really fully understand how to have sex. Yes, we were really young. But we were eager to learn. This type of behavior of ours' seemed to always start after just getting done playing Operation (the Milton Bradley kids' board game). So after playing Operation,we'd play this naughty game we invented. It consisted of chasing a person around a basement in the dark. If a boy was caught by the group, the girls in the group had their way with him. If a girl was caught by the group, the boys in the group had their way with the girl. One of the 1rst things we did was try to insert objects anally. & when the parental unit of the house caught us all playing this game we each got a spanking for playing that game. Strange thing was we managed to play this game several times as a group. & we did get caught for playing the game many times. & when caught it always ended with spankings. Now I had my temp taken rectally many times as a child from Mom. & I had some enemas from Mom when I was very young. But I could not narrow that "sexual awakening" down to one simple event in my life. For me, enemas are just a single part of the anal equation. But all these events lead me to know that the anal area of one's body is something that could sense positive or negative stimulation. & since that was the 1rst area I remember getting a sexual sensation from; well that's probably the reason I love most things anally related. Also the 1rst lady I ever had a sexual relationship with, had asked me for anal sex. She initiated the act between us. She was the one that asked me to put it between her cheeks. And I am very thankful for that special experience she had given me. I think being anally erotic is a bonus. Being male, it's also the most satisfying form of birthcontrol ever. I don't view it as the demize of the human race 😉

My mom gave me enemas until 17

My mother was a registered nurse and, when I was very young, would force enemas on me while my father held me down. This set me up for a lifetime enema fetish. The enema, especially giving, became my passion which transformed itself into becoming an enema model in San Francisco.

I only had one enema from Mom and I was very young. BUT, I was given several very large 2 qt enemas from a nurse in the hospital when I was about 10. The bed was high so she had me stand on a chair and lay over the side of the bed. She used a large round red rubber tube which she inserted, what felt like about 10 in. up my rectum. I could not hold the whole bag. She would stop the flow, let me releive myself and then start the whole procedure over until the bag was empty.

I received many enemas from Mum. I was started as a kid of 4 and a half; (194😎. As has been mentioned many times by others as well, there was a lot more 'home nursing' involved in parenting back then. This included checking for fever (RTs, of course), and tracking regularity, and occasionally checking things out thoroughly 😳 . A mother was a lot less inclined to immediately drop everything and haul her child to the doctor or pediatrician. As another matter, a pediatrician was a 'luxury' of sorts; in a small community (like ours), one was more likely to be taken to a plain old GP. But not until many and varied remedies and treatments (including quite often enemas) had been tried first. All in all, receiving an enema became a reasonable experience as far as I was concerned. Of course, it was a chore (to put up with being enemized), and of course, a child would like to avoid it if possible. But in our house, resistance was futile, and besides, Mum was good at giving them, and, as we had settled into a weekly routine when I was quite young; the extra ones which she felt were necessary, I accepted without too much whining and grumbling. Anytime I was considered sick enough to stay home from school, that meant that enemas were coming. With Mum, one was never considered enough...

I enjoyed our 'private times' together. As I got older, I started to self administer; and she didn't mind, as it was also a chore for her, as well. But sometimes she would help me, especially when I was sick in bed...

Eventually, an enema became an arousing experience for me; but that is another tale.

She is long gone from this earthly paradise, and I miss her deeply.

There it was in the bathroom closet hanging about waist high under the shelf with the towels..... Jones irrigator, red rubber hose, & black vaginal nozzle. We all saw it daily when we put clothes in the hamper or grabbed a fresh towel. It was a bit threatening like "You might get sick and need one of these." The rectal nozzle was stored separately in the medicine chest. Every time I reached for my tooth brush I saw it and my butt hole winked. The little jar of Vaseline was there with it.

I am amazed at how clear my memory is of the day I had a severe belly ache and got two enemas. It's like it happened yesterday. I remember what was said in the way of instructions. The vision of her using one finger to spread Vaseline on the nozzle is branded on my brain. I definitely did NOT want it, but understood why I had to take it. That was right about 1944. The Great Depression was fading, but folks were very conservative with money. A visit to the doctor was costly and avoided if at all possible. A soapsuds enema was free and effective. Old Doctor Hines was quick to recommend an enema, explaining to young mothers how to administer. He recommended a pint for small children.

Mother frequently quoted him,

"It's always safe to give an enema, even in cases of appendicitis."

A lot of us worry about how the "fetish" got started as though it were some evil aberration. The anus is loaded with nerve endings with connections to your groin. Any attention down there will make your eyes cross. Get over it........

"Come on in the bathroom You are going to get an enema."

Why do we worry? An enema is one of the most natural things you can do for a clean colon or for pleasure. Weather it is at the first sign of a cold or self indulgence, what is there to worry about?

Having been encopretic for a time while growing up I found enemas difficult at times to take but also providing vast relief. I even asked for them on occasion because of stomach pains.

Growing up in the 50's like many here, the family enema bag was a frequent fixture in the bathroom. Mom was the enema giver and all the kids (and dad too) were regular recipients. Mom would take enemas by herself during the day, or dad would give them to her if it was an evening session. It was all very matter-of-fact that, notwithstanding what your illness was, an enema was necessary to begin the healing process. Enemas were also given just because it was awhile since your last one. When you reached the right age (12 or so), you were "allowed" to self-admimister, although I think a raging erection may have had something to do with it. Mom would prepare the enema, hang it from the robe hook and tell me to take my time and have a good enema while she left the room. And that I did.

As previously stated growing up in the 40s and 50s mom was the main enema administrator in our household. My sister and I and even my dad were given enemas by my mom for constipation with no chance of not participating. My mom and her sister would give each other enemas when they needed them. My dad would only say that they were necessary at times. I hated the enemas as a young child and so did my sister. We would fuss and cry to no avail because mom always called my aunt when we resisted and she held us down and my mom would proceed and give us the enema. I would yell that I could not hold it and the cramps were terrible and I was going to explode, mom simply continued to squeeze my buttocks together and shut the clamp while I laid in the bathtub in the event of early discharge and calmly said cramps are good that means the enema is working and you will feel much better after we are done. If I expelled early we began all over again and my aunt continued to hold me down while mom gave me the enema. I have to admit though that mom was right when I was severely constipated and the enema was done and I expelled I did feel much better. My mother was never mean and never spanked or punished us us because we resisted and fussed before the enema as some of our friends mom's did however the enema did get done until mom was satisfied that we had a good enema. I think both my sister and I both stopped resisting around nine or ten because we did not want to be held down by my aunt as it was embarrassing to hear our cousins talk about it to other kids and we just wanted to get the enema over with as quick as possible. I still take enemas to this day for constipation and I still do not like them, I hate the cramping but I do feel much better when it is over. I still have difficulty retaining the enema for more than a couple of minutes. So all in all mom was right about feeling better after the enema was done it was during that was so dreadful.

I didn't get a lot of enemas as a child, maybe one a year. It was a horrible but erotic experience.

My mom gave me enemas on a regulas basis as I was growing up. I often fantasize about finding a partner that likes to role play and "re-enact" some of those childhood enema sessions - the humiliation, the spanking, the snap of the Vaseline jar being opened, the red filled enema bag, the click of the clamp being released. I think about reliving all this with a partner but then find myself feeling like I've completely lost my mind for wanting these experiences.

LH 🌹

When mom or grandma decided that an enema was in order, there better not be any back talk or resistance. It took me awhile to realize that I was doomed in the end...literally...if I didn't comply. My sister often got away with teasing me when it was my turn. If I teased her, the consequences could be severe.

Mom loved Palmolive soap. If I swore, I could taste that soap for a week. If I teased my sisters about an impending enema, the soapy enema that followed could turn one's insides out. Enemas were a production in our house. The red bag was always hanging and ready for use. It seldom got completely dry.

As I got a bit older, the feelings and sensations became more pronounced. I also began to realize that fighting an enema was counterproductive. Perhaps it was a survival instinct, but I began to self administer and learned to relax and go with the flow. That's worked for me for more than 50 years.

After years of research, I've come to realize that others enjoy the simple procedure and that mom and grandma might not have been so strange or off base after all. A quart or two of warm liquid can cure alot of what ails a person. Whether it resolves a case of misbehavior, overindulgence, or just simply relaxes an otherwise stressed out person, an enema is often the best remedy.

Thank goodness for EBAY and other suppliers! There's still a few great pieces of nostalgia hanging around. Thank goodness there are also a few vintage types who remember the good old days.

Thank goodness for a Mother who said my saying no to an enema was not the right answer. I have also come to realize that a periodic enema makes life much better. Alas my wife will not indulge so when needed it is a solo affair.

Mom always gave the enema though dad did assist at times.

My Aunt visited often and helped in the giving of enemas to me and my little brother. Once she was not around and my Mom told me I needed to help her give my brother an enema. I didn't like enemas and didn't want to help so I hid under her bed. When she went looking for me I stayed hidded for a while but when she found me she was mad. She pulled my out from under the bed, pulled my shirt and pants off, pulled down my panties and I got a hard spanking. I was left in my panties and dragged into the bathroom where I watched my Mom prepare the enema, take my brothers clothes off(I was maybe 6 yo and him 4yo) and she pulled him over her lap and told me to get on a chair,stand up and hold the enema bag while she gave him the enema. He cried a lot during the enema and I remember what a trip it was hoilding the bag while he got the enema. I am sure I got a small erection. It gives me great pleasure when I am giving an enema to hold the bag as it deflates.

My mother always gave me my enemas and in fact still does from time to time. Once and awhile she has gotten help from her sister, my aunt.

The enemas from my mom and my aunt where the reason i enojed them today my wife also grew up in a house where the bag hung openly in the bath room. the open part of the enema and how it was given was always a very nice exprince.

I recieved mostly from my step mom, but also my step grandmother, and my aunt sandy. They are all very old school thinking, and I have many good memories of the enemas I recieved.

I had to wait for 14 years to receive my first enema from a great-aunt when I had an influenza and was constipated. It was an emema can of 1 liter with a warm solution of ivory soap. My mother was not in enemas, but I had a great-aunt being experienced in giving enemas from her deceased husband. She introduced me in taking enemas in a comfortable manner.

My story is similiar to many of us. I hated those enemas from mom at first, then I secretly grew to love them. Now, it always struck me as odd that mom insisted that I get a good enema. Funny thing, I wasn't supposed to like those enemas, but I was supposed to take every last drop. So how many others feigned hating enemas for fear mom would stop giving them if she thought you liked them?

I remember the little red bulb was in a cardboard box in the linen cupboard behind the towels. When I would reach in and take the last towel the thing was visible and never failed to turn me on. My penis seemed to have a mind of its own when it thought of that thing being slid up my butt. My mother used the over the knee, spread the cheeks, and squirt routine. I'd wiggle but never really tried to resist, mother was always in charge. By age 6 I was starting to really enjoy the feel of an enema and I'd wait for a time when I was alone and would dig out the thing, drop my pants, and play.

My mom gave me so much suppos and enemas

My mom, an RN, introduced me to enemas at age 3. She gave me enemas at regular intervals, using an enema can, an 8ft hose, and a 26Fr. Colon Tube. The can was hung from a clothes hook on the bathroom door while I sat on the toilet for the enema administration. When I was 6, the enemas suddenly stopped. I don't know why, but I suspect she began to see that I was enjoying them "too much". At age 7, I missed them so badly that I started self administration. I've been taking enemas ever since. Currently I take them every other day.

MOMS ENEMA TRICKS. wHEN I was TAKEN INTO THE BATHROOM A LARGE ENEMA HUNG FROM THE MEDICINE CABNET, WITH EXTRA WATER, I complained and Mom let some out,pure white. Next asked her to stop if it hurt, no answer. Then over her lap no more conversation tube firmly in place, and the enema started.Soon I begged that I was too full and Mom said she would stop the enema, it never happened then Mom said she could not stop and if she did she would have to start again. Finally the enema stopped and now came the real fib. Mom said the tube was stuck in my bottom and it would take time to work out and I had to wait in pain. Finally the tube was out. As mom was taking down the bag and said how good she was as some water was still in the bag, but she made sure I got a GOOD ENEMA !

My mom also choose the enemas when I'm constipated and when I make the mistake, she also use enemas for me as a punishment, It's really embarrassed punishment for me

My mom gave wonderful enemas even if at first I didn't like the idea of getting one all that much. Like all kids I knew the familiar script of "I don't need one," and "I don't want one," which of course eventually had me lying over her lap saying "That's enough". All kids do it, I did it, and my daughter did, too. After some years, and to a certain extent it has to do with maturing, I figured out that it did no good to resist and that afterward I really did feel better.

When I got older the number of enemas seemed to taper off, but on one or two occasions I knew what I probably needed and even asked for one. Years later, when at college and constipated, a sorority sister suggested that I give myself an enema. Fortunately, I had had enough of them to know what to do and would have appreciated mom's help if it had been there. That was 35 years ago and I still take one or two enemas a month. Thankfully I had those good experiences growing up.

I got a lot of warm soap suds enemas from my mother growing up in the 1940's and 50's.Mom beleived in total bowel cleansing.If i was sick with a fever or a cold she would ask when eas the last time i had a bm.In her mind it did not matter,she wanted to make sure my bowels were moving.She would say i'm going to give you a good physic(laxative)and a suppository.After she gave me a physic of Milk of mag.she would come into to my room with small blue glass jar that cotained suppositories.The suppositories were kept in the refrigerator in those days.Mom would then tell me to roll over on my stomach and she would pull down my pj's and spread my cheeks and tell to relax and ensert a cold suppositiry into my rectum and tell me to wait untill i had the erge to move my bowels.Mom also said weather i moved my bowels or not she was going to give me a niece warm soap suds enema to cleane me out.After about twenty minutes or so she would tell to go into the bathroom and try to have a bm.There was a long radiator next to the toilet that mom used to heat a pink fuzzy fleecy blanket by draping the blanket over the hot radiator to warm it up.As soon as i saw the blanket i knew that i was getting an enema.Minutes later mom would come into the bathroom carring a her red Davol Paris enema bag with the red hose and black enema nozzel.MOm would sit on a chair that was in front of the toilet and hang the enema bag on a hook over her right shoulder and take that wounderfuly soft warm fuzzy blanket and drape it over her lap and say to me come on honey and lay on the niece warm blanket and mommy is going to give you a good warm enema to get your bowels cleaned out. I loved the smell of the almost hot blanket and the smell of Ivory soap and the rubber enema bag and the sent of my loving mom. to this day i think mothers fuzzy blankets end enemas just go together.