Did mom know the psychological impact of giving you enemas?

My adoptive mother must have noticed that my tiny thing swelled a bit.

When she me a hot and soapy to cure my constipation.

Which did ask for.

So it was not a punishment or health related phenomenon.

It was a loving thing that we shared.

I don't know if my mother thought about the psychological impact of giving me an enema. She only ever gave me one enema when I was about five years old. I have written about that experience elsewhere on ZITY. I was naked, on my back with her holding my legs up by my ankles with one hand and giving me the soapsuds enema with a small squeeze bulb enema syringe with the other hand. I could look through my partially open legs and see her as she gave me that enema. I can't say what volume of soapy water she gave me, but I can tell you that one enema flipped my "enema switch" to the "Permanently ON" position for life. I like that enema, it felt good and I have been into enemas ever since that time. I do wish she had given me many more enemas, but it was not to be.

I can only dream of what it would have been like to be given enemas every week growing up. Those of you who got regular enemas from your mom, aunt or grandmother are very lucky.

Looking back after my first comments about the subject, I find myself more closely examining my mom's incentive for giving me enema. While it didn't arise to the level of sexual arousal, it produced a flow of endorphins that brought a change in her voice & facial expressions. One tell were the same phrases : like "you need a good cleaning out" or " I need to give you an enema tonight. before you go to bed. Then there was her need to announce her intent in front of my grandmother or aunts. The enemas were always the same; lying over a towel on the bathroom floor while she held the bag up high in one hand while holding the nozzle in place with her other, as was the look on her face as encouraged me to hold it all in.

As I have posted elsewhere, my mother gave me regular enemas starting around the age of two and ceasing just after I turned 12 and started having a sexual response to them. I have always had a close relationship with my mother, but still, could not work up the courage to talk with her about my enemas until she was in her late 70s, and much less defensive or secretive about sensitive issues. During our candid conversation, she shared several valid factors that had led to her giving me enemas throughout my youth. Shortly before I turned 2, I became so ill with a severe GI disturbance that I had to be hospitalized in order to keep me hydrated and nourished. The problem was ultimately identified as an extreme lactose intolerance (which wasn’t always known about back in those days), and my entire GI system was in a such a wreck that even upon discharge I continued to have problems with constipation...what the doctors called “lazy bowel” back in the days. This was 1965 BTW. As a result of the continued constipation, the physicians assigned the routine cure that was first turned to back in the days. Regular enemas as needed.

Mom also mentioned something else that rang true, “Good Lord, all us mothers had Dr. Spock’s child rearing book (a best seller) and we just did what he told us to. And that’s true. I’ve read the old Dr. Spock books from the 60s, and he recommended enemas, and even recommended quantities of water that should be given to their child at each age range.

Finally, she shared a “secret” that she probably would have not revealed any earlier in our mother/son relationship. When she was in junior high, her parents told her she would have to move in with her aging grandmother to help her. Her grandmother lived in the house right next door, so it wasn’t like she moved away from home. Moms mother had never liked or used enemas, she preferred laxatives. I knew this was very true because when when we were staying with them during the summers and mom would take me to the bathroom to give me my enemas, she would always say, “Why do you waste your time giving that boy enemas? Why don’t we give him Fletchers Castoria. She was always trying to force that crap down my throat.

But mom’s grandmother loved enemas, and had of course had occasionally given mom some when she was growing up. But when she moved in with her grandmother, she was expected to not only give her grandmother frequent enemas, she was required to submit to frequent enemas herself anytime grandma got one. She gave and was given enemas by her grandmother from about the age of 14 until she graduated from college. So there’s that.

I have never regarded the enemas mom gave me as unnecessary, physically or sexually abusive, or any other selfish reason. She was doing only what she’d been taught. I believe the situation she encountered when living with her grandmother was partially uncalled for, but in that day, enemas were a very routine treatment for the entire family.

I do not recall, and am quite sure I never did, get an erection while being given an enema as a young child. Right around my 12th birthday I got my first erection (I was kind of a late bloomer) and the first time it scared me, pretty much a normal response. The second time I got an erection I learned how to masturbate. Didn’t take me long to master that! The third time I got an erection was the next day as mom was giving me a warm, soapy enema that was always followed by a second flush enema of plain water. Once I started getting my enemas from a bag, I was always told to assume the knee-chest position. Mom never gave them to me any other position. By the time I had been given about half of my soapy water I had a throbbing erection, the kind that points straight at the ceiling. Since mom was sitting on the closed toilet directly behind me, I don’t think she could see it from her position. After she’d gotten me filled with the soapy water, she reached a hand down to help me stand as she always would. I froze, and didn’t want to stand up period. I was so mortified! Finally, having no choice I rose to my feet and with her hand on a hip she turned me toward her to take a quick look at how my tummy had filled up as she always did. I kept my head down, eyes to the floor. Not saying a word, she exited the bathroom to let me expel privately, as usual. I was given just one more enema by my mom when she returned and almost apologetically told me she still needed to give me my flush enema. Before I stood from my knee chest position, she told me she thought that I was now old enough to “treat” myself when needed. She was right. That was the last day I was ever given enemas by mom.

Did Mom know the psychological impact of giving you enemas?

If she ever thought about it, she kept it away from us. Rather, she tried to convince my brother and me of the benefits. Well, that always took place in the bathroom during our enemas; not always the best opportunity.

My brother remained in his negative attitude, while I initially became accepting and later even had a kind of preference. But the potential for addiction didn't overwhelm me until I was in my twenties.

With an average of once or twice a month having a tete-a-tete with Mom's water games, there was never a particularly high risk anyway. This average also includes a total of around five to six punishment enemas until I was around 14 or 15. After such treatments, I was always glad that I didn't receive any more for a long time.

In my opinion, my mom probably first seriously dealt with the subject when she punished me extensively when I was about 14 or 15; during my most rebellious period of puberty. I got such a stiffness that lasted throughout the entire treatment. Mom pretended not to notice; but I may have been wrong.

Addendum:

If she knew about my inclinations today, she might reconsider a few things. Her fears about my erection during an enema probably made her think more in the direction of homosexuality.

Anyway, that was my last enemas from her...

There was no psychology used back then. There was an issue, constipation, it was dealt with, laxative or enema. If it was a behavior issue a hair brush, wooden spoon or belt was used to correct the behavior. It may or may have not worked but there was no analysis of the situation, just immediate action.

I don’t think that most mothers would want to create trauma or a fetish for their children. Home medical care is something that was likely handed down through generations, or recommended by a physician. When I was young, rectal temperature was common. In 2024, it’s considered to be sexual assault, and child abuse.At best, you would be considered to have mental health disorders.

When my siblings and I were growing up, mom gave us enemas together laying across our bed. Giving us enemas for constipation, acting moody, or sick in bed among others. So, we pretty much knew when we’d get an enema and the reason. But there were times, when mom gave us enemas out of the blue, totally unexpected. This generally happened on rainy days during the summer or cold rainy days during other times of the year. But whenever it happened, the enemas she gave us were different. Normally, mom used a three-quart pumpkin bag and gave each of us a quart without having to refill the bag. Doing this for both the soapy and rinse enemas. However, with enemas out of the blue, she only gave us rinse enemas from a full two quart closed or open top bag. With each of us having to take as much as we possibly could from the full bag. She went slow, so we could take as much as possible, without getting cramps. Once we’d taken as much as we could, we had to hold it for five minutes before going to the bathroom.

Something that our sister picked up on, that my brother and I didn’t. Was that, whenever mom gave us routine enemas, she was in her everyday clothes. But when we got enemas out of the blue, she wasn’t. She was in her nightgown or bathrobe. Something, we never figured out what it was about. But, looking back now, even though mom didn’t like getting enemas herself, giving enemas may have turned her on. So, in place of giving herself enemas, she gave us enemas instead. And I say this, because mom’s two younger sisters gave me and my siblings enough enemas, for us to know, that those two girls definitely got turned on both getting and giving enemas. Something we didn’t realize at the time, only later as teenagers, when enemas turned us on.

I grew up in the 50s, enemas were very common and many mom's then were not really concerned about any psychological impact they may have caused for their children. It was just part of growing up and staying healthy, people then had a complety different attitude towards enemas. I know my mother enjoyed taking enemas, when I was a young boy I would hear her taking enemas and douching with her big red and black douche nozzle moaning away in the bathroom. My mom gave me enemas whenever she felt it was enema time until the big event happened when I was around 9 years old. While receiving an enema the water had to much pressure and when it was released into my anus it caused an instant hard on and I shot my wad on my moms leg. My mom was very shocked and stopped the enema and was also trying to calm me down, I was shocked, scared, crying and I was really confused, nothing like that had ever happened to me. I never received another enema from my mom after that. I never regarded that as a negative experience, I look at what happened as a humerous event and it was the start of my sexual awaking and my mom was very aware of it also. It brought the mother son bond even closer for me. The 50's was a very different time when compared to today's world. Then you were raised to be tough, strong, polite, and dealt with problem's yourself.

I only had enemas in the hospital growing up and psychologically it was not pleasant and I hated getting them and the nurses seemed to like giving them for some reason.

@Silver_Bullet said,

My mom gave me enemas whenever she felt it was enema time until the big event happened when I was around 9 years old. While receiving an enema the water had to much pressure and when it was released into my anus it caused an instant hard on and I shot my wad on my moms leg.

When my siblings and I were growing up, grandma was aware my brother and I were getting hard-ons whenever we got an enema, beginning around age six or seven. At the time, mom’s sisters were preteens, so to give them practical experience, grandma (a retired RN) taught them personal hygiene and how to care for and give children enemas. Something my brother and I became acutely aware of, because she enlisted us to become her teaching subjects. Once the girls demonstrated they could take care of each other, they had to demonstrate they could properly take care of us. Afterwards, they got the responsibility for our evening bath, including enemas and occasional spanking. This was made easy for the girls, because grandma had a big downstairs bathroom with a large walk-in dual head shower. Making it convenient for the girls to put us in the shower together, then get in with us to keep order as they bathe us. So, on evenings when the girls gave us enemas, like us, both girls were naked. Which only helped give my brother and I hard-ons, because we were laying naked across their bare lap. Something, that was totally different from getting an enema laying across grandma's lap. The girls sure didn’t miss it, and neither did we.

In the beginning, the girls gave us enemas laying naked across their bare lap until around age nine, when grandma had them switch us to the knee chest position. Something the girls didn’t completely do, continuing to give us enemas across their lap after a spanking or whenever the mood hit them. Because the girls were a lot closer in age to us, and just as innocent or naive. We all learned from each other, with our teenage aunts in the lead. Making it easier for us to talk to the girls, rather than mom or grandma, about questions of a sexual nature. Something that mom and grandma were aware would happen when we got close to puberty, whether we received an enema from them or the girls.

In the nineteen fifties, enemas were commonplace and discussed openly, however sex was a taboo subject an only discussed behind closed doors. Which I personally think, was another reason, why grandma taught her two younger daughters personal hygiene as preteens. Then, as my siblings and I reached our preteens, taught us personal hygiene and enemas became our responsibility.

Something that our sister picked up on, that my brother and I didn’t. Was that, whenever mom gave us routine enemas, she was in her everyday clothes. But when we got enemas out of the blue, she wasn’t. She was in her nightgown or bathrobe. Something, we never figured out what it was about.

Interesting! Thinking about my experiences with my mom, I can't say I remember such a clear delineation of clothing or different enemas. Maybe that was because I was in the age range of 3 - 6 years old and didn't really notice such a distinction. I do remember my mom wearing a robe when she gave me enemas. Actually, she had a long one (a cream colored soft chenille) and a shorter one (light colored, but nothing specific that I remember other than her legs were more exposed when she wore it).

What I remember about the chenille robe was that, with the tie sash where it was and where she laid me over her lap, her breasts were rather visible and she had large breasts that even I noticed as a child. There were times when I laid across her lap, I was laying on the soft soft, fuzzy cloth. Other times, she would untie the sash and lay me across her bare legs and the front of her robe was open. I never really gave that much thought; maybe it was a way to keep cool when wearing that robe. But now that I think about it, maybe there was something more to that.

@Enema_Runner said,

Maybe that was because I was in the age range of 3 - 6 years old and didn't really notice such a distinction. I do remember my mom wearing a robe when she gave me enemas.

With my siblings and I, it began when I was around age seven and continued until I was ten or eleven. My brother and I never picked up on what clothes mom was wearing, but our sister sure did. However, my brother and I picked up on other things she didn’t.

In the beginning, as far as we knew, mom was giving us routine enemas. It wasn’t until we got a little older, that we started noticing things. Like, on rainy days in the summer or cold rainy days at other times, when mom give us enemas out of the blue for no reason. With routine enemas, mom was dressed normally, and we knew why she was giving them to us. Laying across our bed together, she gave each of us a quart for both the soapy and rinse enema, using her three-quart pumpkin bag. However, when she gave us enemas out of the blue, she only gave us a rinse enema and was wearing only a nightgown or bathrobe. Using either a full two-quart open or closed top bag, that we each had to take as much of the two quarts as possible. They always took longer than normal, even though we only received a rinse enema. In a strange way, the older we got, the more we preferred moms out of the blue enemas over regular ones.

My siblings and I talked about her enemas out of the blue amongst ourselves, but couldn’t figure out why or what they were all about. Even after we began to prefer them over regular enemas. We would be teenagers, before we had an inkling of what mom was doing. And even then, it was mostly speculation on our part. However, looking back, I think she was most likely turned on. And liked giving enemas, but just didn’t like getting them herself. So, she gave us enemas instead. But that’s just me, however I think I’m safe in saying, my siblings felt likewise. This coming from conversations we had as teenagers, once enemas started turned us on, and boy did they ever.

As a “boomer “, an enema was a common remedy in those days when I complained of a tummy ache. I quickly realized that I liked them and it didn’t take long for me to learn to give myself an enema not because I needed one but just because I wanted one. And after getting caught red handed giving myself an enema, mom stopped giving them to me. Some time after that, the enema bulb was removed from under the sink in the bathroom and put away in a spare bedroom that was used for storage and occasional guests. Did she notice that it was frequently used and wanted to remove the temptation from me? Or did she just think it was not needed anymore? It was never discussed. So now it was not as convenient anymore because when I wanted an enema I would have to retrieve the bulb and take it to the bathroom, and then return it. But that just made it even more desirable whenever I had the opportunity to do it.

I’m sure she didn’t intend for me to like getting an enema because they were given for a legitimate purpose and only when necessary, but I did. Initially it was just because the warm water going in felt so good but with puberty, it became an enhancement to masturbation. I didn’t think at the time that she was aware just how often I did it and that the enema had become sexual, but maybe. I am positive that was not intended.

I met a mother waiting with the Enema ready for her 12-year-old son sitting in the toilet to try one last time to get the poop to come out.

The child was able to shit and he started to cry.

His mom consoled him by saying:

It doesn't matter, honey...Mommy is going to give you the Enema.

I know you like them, your little cock gets very hard.

I know that you like to receive the enemas that mommy gives you.

Come to bed and lie on your back, I'm going to make it whole for you.

I know because he was there waiting to play with his mother to give us Enemas before fucking.🍑🍐🔥👌😍