How were your enemas given when growing up?

We all tell stories of getting enemas when we were young, but that scenario is very different for many people. Let's begin a discussion of who gave it to you; where did you get it; what position was used; what was used: enema bag, enema can, bulb; did anyone help the primary giver, up to what age did you get them at home?

OK, so I'll go first. The enemas that I remember best were probably those from age 6 or 7 onward. All of them were with somewhere between 1.5 and 2.5 pints of warm soapy water delivered from a red combination bag as I was over mom's lap. We were in the bathroom and she would be seated on the edge of the bathtub and the bag was hung from a hook on the back of the door. The nozzle was lubed with Vaseline. At that age I was hardly enthusiastic about my fate and didn't want to get an enema, but being there just wanted it over and done with as soon as possible.

My mom gave me all of my home enemas OTK with the 2 qt open top bag and 6” black curved douche nozzle until 19 yrs,and one time in my early 20s when home on leave. She never needed any help as I was a very submissive enema receiver.

Normally got mine at the doctor, before an xray. I never got one at home. At least that I know of.

I always got mine from my mother, OTK with Vaseline. She would sit down on a closed toilet seat and bend me over her knees. The sink was an arms length away so she would put some salt and ivory in the sink and away we would go. She used what I think was a six ounce red bulb with a black nozzle. She would give me six or seven good bulbs full and then get up and let me sit on the toilet. I don't ever remember it being painful but she would slap my cheeks occasionally because I wanted it to be done. I do remember me getting an erection occasionally which she thought slightly amusing.

On my knees, over a towel draped over the side of the bathtub. Amber Sojourn Fountain Syringe filled to the brim with hot soapy water hanging from a hook on the shower head. Amber tubing. Black enema nozzle slathered in Vaseline. Me screaming for it to stop 30 seconds after I heard the click of that metal clamp. How I hated enemas then!

I went through 3 stages of getting enemas as a kid. When I was very young my aunt would help my mom giving me enemas. I got them on my bed. The bed had a rubberized sheet and a bath towel on that. Mom had a closed top red enema bag, red hose, and black bat shaped nozzles. It was always Ivory Soapy water. My aunt held the enema bag and Mom was the nozzle person and the clamp. There was a sick room white “potty” in my room to expel. If my dad were home during enema time, he held the bag.

As I got a little bigger, Mom gave them to me herself. Again, however, if Dad were home, he would hold the bag. The rubberized sheet began to go away, because I never had an accident. The bath towel was still used. I am not sure what age the doctor told her to start to use the adult enema nozzle.

At 12 Mom stopped giving them to me. I had reached puberty. My dad then gave me my enemas. The sick room potty was no longer used. I was able to move from the bed to the bathroom that was next door to my room. Dad gave me enemas until 16. I was never embarrassed to have Dad give me enemas. I was born in 1946. Enemas were extremely popular in my growing up days.

Most of the time it was after a dr appointment. After the visit it was a short ride home to the awaiting the red bag of soapy water. A few times it was a fleet but most of the time closed top bag on the bathroom floor and had to hold 5 minutes timed with the old fashioned wind up kitchen timer.

OTK (mom's knee…she really was an RN!) with a bulb…no idea of capacity but as far as I was concerned it was ALWAYS too much. I really hated enemas then, but that may have been due to the fact that they were almost always given when I wasn't real well…cold, tummy ache, whatever…and they really were unpleasant or frightening. I seem to remember dad being in attendance several times, maybe all of the time, and I wonder once in a while whether they ever “played”? I also seem to remember an aunt who lived nearby being around every once in a while (she, too, was an RN) but I'm not real sure of that or whether my memory is simply conjuring this up…I think I had a “thing” for this aunt and maybe it's just wishful thinking. What I do VIVIDLY remember was a lot of crying and pleading on my part 'cause I really hated them. Wonder when and why the “transition” occurred?

Always in bathroom knee chest position on bath mat, red bag hung on towel bar. Mom would kneel behind me, spread my cheeks then insert the vaseline coated nozzle then have me lay on my hands. THen would come the click of the clamp then the warm ivory soap water. Would end when I said I was full.

I only had one growing up when I was nine years old. We lived on a lake so it was not unusual for mom to check my sister and me for ticks. She would have us naked and check-in our hair, then arms and armpits, belly, folds of our vaginas, butts, between our toes. We also got our temperatures taken rectally. So if mom told you to do something you did not say no. None of the other was bad at all really. Then one day she called me to come into the bathroom. The red bag was always hanging on a hook but this time it was filled. Mom had me get on my elbows and knees with my butt facing her. She was sitting on the potty. The bathroom door was right in front of me. I felt her lube my butt and this time she put a finger in. That wasn't all that bad either. Then she put the nozzle in which was cold and felt sort of good. Then she released the water. The gush of it going in and gurgling felt good. But then the cramps hit. I took off on my hands and knees letting everything how as I went and mom yelling to get back. No way. I ran to my room. My sister and I shared a room growing up. I was crying and she knew what had happened. She held me and comforted me until I stopped crying. It wasn't for three more years when I found out my sister got them a lot. I knew she was taking long baths and mom would go in with her. After her bath she would come back to the room, turn the lights off and get in her bed. After some time I would hear her moaning and I always thought she was having nightmares. Then when I was 12 and caught her masturbating she told me that after her enemas she would come back to the bedroom and masturbate. She told me that she took her enemas the same way on her elbows and knees. She got enemas at least once a month and sometimes more. She said they made her horny but she would never masturbate in front of mom.

OK--here goes:

(a) Got all enemas from my Dad.

(b) Got all enemas in the bathroom.

(c) On stomach /butt elevated with pillows under me.

(d) A Victoria red enema bag.

(e) Only once for my first ever enema bag enema

(f) Age 12.(with some infrequent enemas at age 13--14)

Always in bathroom knee chest position in bathroom on a towel

My big brother would kneel behind me, spread my cheeks and and smeared my bum with my finger in the buttocks too and in the buttocks.then insert the vaseline coated nozzle or enema tube

0. I learned about enemas in my early 20''s and bought a fleets to try out of curiosity.

Like others here, illness meant an enema that was hard to argue against or resist. On a couple of occasions there was no discussion, just the clanging sound of the hose clamp against the white metal enema can as Mom passed by my room on the way to the bathroom.

All my siblings and I were given enemas upstairs in our parents bathroom off their bedroom. When smaller, we were given them in diaper changing position on the changing table. Then as we got older they were always given over the knees. Until we got old enough to do them on our own.

Once they started in my own home after a nurse‘s recommendation, they were given on the bathroom floor. I’d be clad in just a white t shirt that barely covered my bottom, and I think I’ve assumed about every position you can think of while I watched the big red bag begin the flatten

My doctor suggested enemas for me when I was 9. Those first ones were with me lying naked on my back on a towel in the dry bathtub, my feet on the tile wall straddling the faucet. Mom was the primary giver with dad on hand for the early ones. We had the classic red closed-top rubber enema bag with hose and black nozzle set. Once mom was convinced I would not make a mess the enemas moved to the bathroom floor with me on my hands and knees and/or knee-chest. They continued this way until I was 13 and had an orgasm during one. After that dad took over but quickly taught me the process (which I knew already, I had been sneaking enemas since age 11.)

My first enemas given to me by my Mother were always in the buff and over her knees. Mom used a small bulb for that. As I grew older, Mom would give me my enemas sitting on either side of the bathtub or on the toilet while I took the knee chest position on the floor. I think Mom preferred to sit on the edge of the tub because it gave her more room to rub my back and push in on my stomach as the enema water moved up into my body.

The enemas I remember as a kid were pretty quick with little fanfare. Once it was determined that I was getting an enema I would be told to remove my pants and underwear and lean over with my hands on the edge of the tub. Mom would fill the bulb at the sink, then standing next to me facing the opposite direction, one hand would spread my cheeks while the other would insert the well lubed nozzle into my butt, and squeeze. I got anywhere from 1 to 4 bulbs depending on my age and circumstances. Then I was told to hold it a few minutes and left to expel in private.

I got my first bag enema at 10 from grandma when I was staying with her one summer. It was on my back, laying on the bathroom floor. By then I was already giving myself small enemas with the bulb but that one was the trigger for me to begin experimenting with giving myself enemas with more volume than mom was giving me.

Most of the time it was Mom who gave me enema's. Occasionally my step dad but 99 percent of the time it was Mom. Most of them were given over her lap. She loved my rosebud hole so she always used the 8 oz bulb with the black nozzles. I would get either four or eight of the bulbs as soon as one was empty another was slid into place and then I felt her squeeze the warm soapy water into my rectum and bowels. Eight was usually the limit. It didn't take long for them to work. I was on the toilet seat evacuating in less than five minutes

It got a little embarrassing as I got older as you can well imagine..

I don't remember many but they involved a small bulb syringe and a plastic bin filled with hot water and I would like on my left side with one my top leg pulled up to my chest. I started secretly giving them to myself at a very young age using bulb syringes and later got up the courage to try the bag one day… probably when I was around 10… and it blew my mind how exciting and pleasurable that was. I took me a while to figure out the need to purge the air from the tube. Up until that point, I used to a have tummy ache after giving myself enemas.

For me, it started around age 8 and continued until age 17, when I left home for college. Mom explained that having an enema was a little like having my temperature taken, and that it might be a little uncomfortable, but the feeling afterwards would be pleasant. My enemas were always given in her bedroom. She‘d sit on the edge of the bed, with her feminine syringe full of hot soapy water hanging on a bedpost. She‘d take all my clothes off and have me lie across her lap. While the enema temp dropped, she‘d give me a gentle back rub followed by a soft touch on my anus. When she felt my sphincter relax, she’d slip her douche nozzle in and release some of the enema into my rectum. As the enema went deeper into me, she’d stop the flow if I got cramps. Even at age 8, I was able to take almost 2 quarts. When it was all over and I had expelled the enema into the toilet, she put me to bed for a nap.

As I got older, I could expect mom to give me a series of enemas every two or three months. All my enemas were ”high enemas”, consisting of 3 to 4 quarts given using a colon tube. By age 13, she began giving me enemas in the knee-chest position on her bed. By now, it was no secret I loved getting mom to give me enemas! At that age, just the thought of having an enema would give me a erection. Mom noticed, but said not to be embarrassed because it was normal. I feel fortunate that getting enemas during childhood was never an unpleasant experience.

My mother realized that the way she gave enemas could eventually impact a boy sexually, but that the benefits of regular use of enemas was worth that risk.

As I have posted many times, Lisa and I got regularly scheduled enemas Wednesday after dinner and Saturday after breakfast. The Saturday sessions were total cleanouts, and lasted until 12:30 or maybe 1:30 that afternoon. They were given by Gram, Mom or Aunt Ruth. (& sometimes two or all three of them.) These were not clinical, but were also not sexual in any way. They were purportedly for our health & well being, and we never questioned that; although we both realized later that they were all klismos and enjoyed giving us those enemas. Small wonder that we, too became klismos, and spent many, many happy hours pumping all manner of solutions into each other.

Generally on Sunday after church I would be scheduled to receive enemas. Sometimes both mom and dad or once in awhile the help of another relative who might be visiting . I would have to strip down and get into a large tshirt report to the bathroom where the bathtub would be prepared with a towel on the bottom and a towel towards the back of the tub for me to rest my elbows and head on.

Mine were not scheduled on a regular basis. Only when it was perceived that I was constipated, and after the MOM had had a chance to work and didn’t. I would be told that I was getting an enema to help me feel better. Always across the bed on a towel, early years with a bulb syringe, later the bag. I could keep my t-shirt on. With the bag, it was usually a soapy enema first and then a plain water rinse.

As I mentioned elsewhere I did not receive an enema with any sort of predictable schedule. Most of the time it was because I was sick or mom figured that I had not been regular enough in her judgment. Enemas were almost always given at bedtime. I'd be told to change into pajamas or a nightie as she would retrieve the combination syringe and busy herself with filling it with an Ivory soap solution. The bag would be hung and I'd be called to the bathroom. If I was in pajamas the bottoms would come off otherwise the nightie would be lifted to shoulder blade height. I'd be over her knees, the nozzle would be lubed and inserted into my bottom, and the flow begun. Those enemas were not painful, but rather could be a bit uncomfortable. I'd have to hold it for several minutes before being allowed to sit on the toilet. Never once did one of mom's enemas fail to yield results and over the years I outgrew my dislike for getting one.

By grandma, with a red bulb, on the bed on my back and for the first ones, my grandma‘s sister had to hold and constraint my legs and knees up

Most were given to me in bed, curled up on my left side on a plastic sheet covered by a towel, both legs pulled up to my chest. My mother used an open top 2 quart enema bag hanging on a hook on the outside of my bedroom cupboard door which swung open towards my bed. Although the first one she gave me on doctor's orders when I was 4 years old and had a cold that constipated me was a pint of warm salt water, she soon tried other solutions on the advice of my grandmothers, aunts, and friends' mothers including plain water, salt and baking soda, Epsom Salts, and soap, and she soon found that soap was the most effective in clearing out my bowels. She used Ivory bar soap swished around in warm water until the solution was milky and sudsy, and as I got older she increased the size of the enemas by a cup every 3 years until they eventually reached 2 quarts when I turned 22. She gave the enema non-stop and made me hold it in for 5 minutes by pressing my buttocks together. At first I squirmed and complained that it hurt and I had to go really bad, but she wouldn't let me expel the enema until the time was up. She just told me to take slow deep breaths through my mouth. Then she let me sit on a chamber pot set on a stool beside my bed so she could check the results. Occasionally she wasn't satisfied and would give me a second enema that seemed stronger and soapier than the first and she would make me hold that one in for 10 minutes before I was allowed to expel it. By the time I was 10 I stopped resisting just to get it over with because no amount of resisting and complaining would prevent the enema. I only got about a dozen enemas a year, mostly when I was too sick to go to school, when she would give me a daily enema to keep my bowels open during the illness, and I also got a few when she had given me a laxative at bedtime and it didn't work as soon as I woke up the next morning. Occasionally she would give me an enema in the bathroom, either laying curled up on a towel on the floor or in knee-chest position in the bathtub. This continued until I finished University and moved away from home to take my first job out of town when I was in my mid-20's.

Once my mother said, "I think you could use a good enema," there was no way to change the outcome. I have vague memories of enemas from a bag before 5 years old, but very definitely a series of enemas at age six after I swallowed a screw. Almost all enemas were from my widowed mother, who was a believer in the healing power of a 'good enema.' I did get more than a few from one of my spinster aunts who was an RN since I usually spent vacations with them.

Enemas from my mother were always in the bathroom; me on my knees, bent over the tub. I always wore a t-shirt, but was naked from the waist down. My mother, sitting on the tub edge, black enema nozzle in hand. Ponds Cold Cream was the lube of choice. The bag was an open top red Goodrich bag with the regular red hose, metal clip, and black nozzle. The first enema was always soapsuds - generally Ivory, but occasionally Lifebuoy. The scent of Ivory and Ponds filled the air. Until age 12 I got about half a bag then my mother's sisters convinced her I was old enough and big enough for a full bag enema. From then on it was always 2 quarts. If you could not take it all, the process was repeated. I always got a tap-water rinse.

When I was 15, I got pinworms and the prescribed cure included a wrenched oral medicine and soapsuds enemas. My mother bought a new red Rexall Victoria fountain syringe when we were at the drug store to pick up the prescription medicine and that was used for all enemas that followed. At that age it was terribly embarrassing to be given enemas by my mother. I inevitably got erections and tried to hide them, but my mother just told me it was just natural. Her enemas were as gentle as she could make them, but were always to completion.

My RN Aunt was more of a no-nonsense giver. She was cold and officious and her enemas were very clinical and uncomfortable. Her bag was a Davol 'Comfy' as I remember and it was always too much! She was a Lifebuoy fan. After age 13 I don't recall any further enemas from her.

The last enemas from my mother was when I was 17. I got a wicked flu and was very dehydrated. She gave me two enemas and those were my last from her.

I was a well watered kid!