When did your mother catch on about your enjoyment?

At what age did your mother finally catch on that your enemas were more than a health precaution? And what did she do? Well, I used to get bulb enemas infrequently from about age 7 to 12 when Mom decided to “upgrade” me to the 2 quart red bag. These were administered in the bathroom whenever she determined I needed one, as when I was lethargic or came home with a note from the nurse that I had been excused from gym due to stomach issues. Not all that often but I was informed, not asked if I needed one. Early on, these were given after a public announcement so that my older sister would be be aware of the consequences of not eating right. More than once she teased me about them but I'm not sure she ever received them herself. My mother would always start out by explaining the process (as if I couldn't recite it by heart), then have me watch as she prepared the soapy solution in warm water. Before she inserted the bulb nozzle, she would never fail to give me the Vaseline finger blockage check, probing as deeply as her finger would reach. I put up with this embarrassment as a part of her routine but was in no way aroused by it…until I reached 12. Around that time I started getting the red bag and closer to 2 full quarts, but she cut out the soap, perhaps in favor of being able to fill me further with just warm water.

Those rectal probings began to feel more interesting too. In her efforts to make sure I had no blockage she could detect, she was quite thorough and I would squirm as she worked. One one occasion, she caught a peek of what I'd been trying desperately to hide, my growing stiffy. I thought she might have missed it when my robe flapped open until she started counseling me about erections and that they were completely normal at times like these and were not to be cause for any embarrassment whatsoever. Didn't help. To make matters worse, the more water I took, the firmer I got until it was quiet obvious that my body was enjoying enemas. She took it in stride but after a couple of those episodes, she started asking me in a whispering voice, even though there would be no one home, if I thought I might need a warm tummy filling, to which I always replied, “Yes please." She knew she had me hooked and played me like a master. Sometimes, off we'd go to the bathroom, but other times she'd say something like, “How about tomorrow afternoon after school, we'll have more time then.” Pretty sure she'd dangle me like this just to see the dejected look on my face. Then she'd wink. The first time she ever did that I was sure it wasn't a wink but she did it more than once and there was no mistaking she was looking forward to a session as much as I was. The probings became longer and she'd keep up a narrative about her own early enemas, knowing and enjoying exactly what they were doing to me. The more I squirmed and tried to hide my situation, the more the she'd lecture on how we should have no more secrets between us, no embarrassment about natural, normal happenings. Seeing that this little chat had no effect on my continued squirming, she withdrew her finger, inserted the nozzle and flipped open the clamp. As water surged in, she instructed me to stand and face her. In a no-nonsense tone she told me that she was NOT going to close off the clamp until I voluntarily opened my robe to her and got over all this prudishness. I was in shock. She was not kidding and there was no escaping the situation. I held out as long as my bowels could take it. Then finally relented and parted my robe to reveal my most private parts. I was made to stand there on display in silence for a complete minute while the full measure of my embarrassment about that uncontrollable erection at last subsided. “There, there, that wasn't so bad now, was it?” she whispered. Actually, I felt much more at ease, like a weight of over modesty had been lifted. Then she did something even more unexpected. She leaned forward and gently caressed my erection. I remember her voice and touch were so compelling I don't think I even pulled back, just stood there for her. She smiled and told me what a good boy I was. All I could do was hug her.

Not too many sessions after that one, the enemas abruptly ended as family dynamics changed and time and privacy prevented us from exploring the wonderful bond we had forged.

I was about 8 and asked her for an enema, never received an enema from her then or later.

Growing up I received enemas for so many different reasons,,

I truly hated them but the funny thing after they stopped I started craving them and soon started sneaking them on my own

my mom would leave her 3 enema bags hanging in the bathroom always,so one Saturday morning they both went out shopping in the morning so I decided to give myself my first enema ,now thinking about it she probably knew right away I never tho about drying the enema bag so she probably kne after my first solo enema

af my first solo enema I was so hooked I remember sneaking them weekly 😊

I've never been caught doing that before.

Very early in our mutual ‘ enema journey ’ ……………

I was about 8 and asked her for an enema, never received an enema from her then or later.

That's exactly why I never asked outright. Instead I played the 'reluctant but obedient child' part.

My method of ‘asking’ was to hold my arms across my belly with a pained look. She'd suggest an enema. I'd say "No, I’m OK." But after a few more pained expressions, she'd insist. Soon, I'd be following her to the bathroom.

Edit:

A couple of clarifications… I did start to have more control of scheduling my enemas from mom. When I started school wrestling, I thought I was nimbler (and lighter) for wrestling matches if I had an enema the night before. I also liked having an enema before an overnight camp as a boy scout (meant I could avoid using the nasty camp latrine.) Mom was happy to oblige those requests.

Of course, when I was 13 I had an orgasm during one of her enemas. She had dad take care of my enemas after that.

When I was six, my mother gave me an enema that I resisted so much she thought I hated them (which I did, at the time). From that point on, she reached for the bottle of Milk of Magnesia instead of the enema bag. When puberty hit and getting enemas were clearly a part of my erotic life, I faked constipation and asked her for one. I was probably 12 or 13. Alas, she set it up and then said I should give it to myself. She said I was too old for her to see me naked. I was disheartened that she didn't give it to me, but when I finished, there was so much pre-cum on the towel that I was relieved she didn't. But it's hard to image she didn't catch the pre-cum on the towel. It was never mentioned.

I think my mom had suspicions that I enjoyed the enemas she gave me, even if I did some mild complaining about them. But I think the incident that confirmed that I was giving myself enemas, and maybe not strictly for medical reasons was when I was twelve or thirteen. Starting a year or two earlier, I couldn't wait till I was home alone so I could give myself an enema. I remember one time mom had gone shopping and I thought I had plenty of time to play around a bit. I had a good start with maybe a quart already in me and I heard her come home much earlier than I expected. I quickly put the syringe back under the sink and pushed out as much water as I could, but as you know, sometimes it doesn't all come out right away especially if you are in a hurry. I waited as long as I could but she started calling for me so I wiped and pulled up panties and shorts and went to the kitchen. Mom was showing me some things she bought for me when my stomach started churning and I just knew the rest of the enema was ready to come out, now! I took off for the bathroom and several minutes later when I came out my mom just smiled at me and said something like, "Did I interrupt something?" “I hope everything came out OK.” I guess she knew exactly what had happened. I don't think she ever offered to give me an enema after that. I guess she figured I knew how to do it myself.

I don't see it as mom "catching on" as to enjoyment of her enemas just because of my erections. She was a firm believer in the health benefits of her “good” enemas……never even a hint of erotic pleasure. As all of us guys know, uncontrollable erections were a part of growing up,and I'm sure she knew that too. We all got those hard-as-steel erections in our youth that just wouldn't subside now matter hard much you wanted it to. Try as I might to not show any indication of pleasure during her ritual enemas, erections became inevitable at the mere mention that I needed to be cleaned out or at the sight of the equipment. It reached the point at around age 11 or 12, due I think to my lack of embarrassment of being firmly erect during her enemas, that mom determined I should begin self-administering. And although I would miss her gentile technique and all of her softly spoken enema talk while I was being filled, it provided me the privacy to explore the combination of enemas and masturbation.

When I was in college, I finally met a gal who was willing to try anything..at least once. We did lots of things together but one night we played truth or dare and I confessed I liked enemas. So shortly afterward she started giving me enemas. One night after a nice dinner and way too much wine, the folks were gone overnight so it was the perfect play time. My gal gave me several bulb enemas in the living room where we had sex and then went to bed. Early the next day my gal left and then the folks came home. I went to work and while there I remembered leaving the bulb under the living room coffee table. When I got home I looked for it but it was gone. My guess, Mom found it. It was never found and not a word was ever said….

We received enemas from as early as l can remember. My sister and l are only 2yrs apart and we always received them together and mostly in the evening before bed and sometimes on the weekend. They were always given by our mother. When we reached around 12ish, our mother began to tell that now we had begun to reach puberty, we would begin to get certain feelings during our enemas and that it was very natural. We didn't understand at first. Then 1 day my sister asked if l had any funny feelings when mom gave us our enemas. I said yes. She said she touched her “special” spot and had a really good, but funny feeling after a bit.

So next time mom gave us our enemas, l asked her about it and she explained what it meant and why. She said both men and women get those feeling, but especially women and that now we were/had reached puberty/womanhood, it was natural to both accept and act on if it we choose to. She said it was natural and that she had them also. We grew up in a medical family and nothing was off limits or not able to be spoken about. So as l was getting my enema, l felt that feeling again and asked if l could rub/touch myself while l was still receiving my water. Mom said go ahead and see what happened. I reached down and slowly/shyly began to rub my spot and before l knew it, l had my first orgasm!!!

It wasn't like a 4th of July Grand Finale, but at least a firecracker. I then had to jump on the toilet and my mother rinsed out the bag and hung it to dry. She then took me in her arms and held me close and told me that next to childbirth, l had just fully crossed over into being a woman from a girl!!! I told my sister who then told me she and mom went through the same thing about 6 months easier, but was told not to say anything to me about, just let it happen. My sister is now my lady doctor!!!

My mom never knew, mostly because of the divorce when I was seven. I expect that even at that young age, I got erections from her giving me enemas. I can't say when they stopped before the divorce. I lived with my dad after that and I don't think he knew either.

As I have written previously, my adolescent discovery and exploration began several years later, sometime around age 11-12, and became a nearly daily part of my showers.

Mom knew I was anally erotic from a very young age and would give them on a routine basis or when I asked for them.

Was never caught but started using a bag at age of 12 ,the bag was always hanging in the bathroom.

My mom had at one time or other many many drugstore style enema bags. Enemas were started at birth in our family. She made me lay down on the bed in wait with my underwear pulled down. It would appear that she did not want to look at my boner. She must known and kept me in supply of enema bags wherever we went. After she caught on to my scheming the enemas stopped from her.

My sister, her girlfriend, and I were all talking one day about this. She wondered if mom knew that she liked enemas. After my sister would have her bath and enema she would come back to the room and turn off the lights then masturbate. I told her mom probably knew because of how wet she got. I think that sort of freaked my sister out some.

About 10-11 and the “good” feeling gradually intensified. This is the main contributing factor why I became enema addicted I think. It felt just good.

All my Dad(he was my single parent) will say is, “I think you know when I found out for sure. Had my belief well before that! That's ONE reason I had you do your own insertions from the time I was confident you could do it right. It was also the reason I had you wear a nightgown or dorm shirt that went close to your knees, so it was less likely to expose anything from the front.!"

I have posted in the past about my first enema-induced orgasm. It happened right in front of him!

It was the last time he was present in the room between valve opening and end of expulsion.

@LisaK, I gave your post #18 a “like” because I suddenly have gotten to like your Dad. He is an all right guy. I know that you appreciate him too.

I got small bulb enemas from mom from as early as I can remember. Because they were small, I did not hate them. I actually liked the feel of the warm water going in. I usually did not get more than a couple of bulbs from mom, and she would leave the bulb sitting on the sink and often remaining warm water in the bowl when she left the bathroom to give me some privacy as I expelled. She would say she would clean up when I was done. Starting around 9 or 10, I would take the bulb and give myself a few more squirts after mom left the bathroom, just because it felt so darned good. Then one day she walked in on me while I was doing that. Standing in front of the sink, bulb in hand, I was speechless. She said she thought I was done, and left, closing the door behind her. I expected she would be pissed but she said nothing about it. But after that she never offered to give me an enema. I guess she figured I knew how to do it if I needed one.

After many enemas for every ailment from my mom, they stopped abruptly and when I hit puberty, something clicked and I came up with inventive ways to introduce water into my own rectum. When I got my license and had the freedom to drive, I proceeded to go out and buy myself my own bag and equipment. Not until then did my mother know the full extent of how the enemas had affected me until one day she was going through my drawers and found my equipment. I was extremely ashamed when she asked about it, but she gave me a knowing look and did not mention it to me ever again. After that, I made sure to do a better job at hiding my equipment so that she would never find it again. By the way, it was a yellow bag 2 qt ensemble. Because my introduction to enemas had become sexualized, I told myself that whenever I have children in the future, I did not want to do the same thing to them that happened to me with enemas. The only time it happened was when my youngest had a BM that was stuck, halfway out and there was no other way to get it out. I used two squirts of a bulb syringe and she quickly expelled and that was that. It was simply used for emergency purposes on my child only.

My mother suspected early on that I sort of liked for her to give me my enemas with that small red bulb. Our doctor had prescribed them for me shortly after birth due to a problem with my colon and rectum. I never complained. But, after I was in about the 6th grade, our doctor became ill and had to give up his practice due to health reasons. The new family doctor did not believe in enemas and told Mom right in front of me to stop giving me those barbaric things. So Mother started giving me that dreaded Castoria or other oral laxatives like Ex-Lax, etc. I absolutely hated oral laxatives and literally begged Mother to start back giving me enemas. Well, she didn't and she even did away with the little red bulb.

I was desperate.

One day I was out in the backyard playing with a neighbor girl when Mom called me into the house so she could give me my dose of Castoria. When I came back out my friend asked me what Mom gave me. I told her. She stuck out her tongue and said “Mom used to give me that stuff but today she gave me an adult enema with her douche bag.” She said that the adult enema felt really good and that I should get my Mom to give me one saying “Mike, you won't be disappointed!”

Well, when we quit playing I went in and found Mom sitting at the small kitchen table drinking day old coffee and smoking one of her Salem cigarettes. I sat down at the table opposite Mom and Mom and I then began to make small talk. Finally, I garnered enough nerve and asked her if she would give me an adult enema. Mom's mouth opened but nothing came out. I think that Mom must of thought that I had a screw loose or something!

I, then, said “Please!”

Mom asked me “where on earth had I ever heard of such a thing?”

I told her and she just shook her head saying “Mike, you know what our doctor says about enemas.”

With that said I got up out of the chair and went to my room.

The next day, I asked her again. But, the response was the same.

So, I got on my bike and rode over to my Mother's Mother's house, my grandmother. She was surprised, but happy to see me! We went into her kitchen where she gave me a coke to drink. Then, we sat down and made small talk. Finally, I told her why I had come and asked her if she could help me convince my Mother to help me out with something!

Mam Maw, being curious, asked me what that something was. I hem hawed around a bit, but I eventually told her that I wanted her to help me convince Mama to give me an adult enema.

Mam-Maw listened to every word I said. She didn't smirk or try to discourage me.

In fact, all that she said was “Mike, are you sure? You ought to be real careful for what you ask for son! Too often, Mike, what people think they want ends up not being what they thought they wanted. In other words, son, be care for what ask for, because it more than likely will not be what you expected when you get it. And, Son, I don't really what an adult enema! They are so much larger than those little bulb enemas that your Mother has been giving you in the past! And if I remember correctly they don't just have warm water!”

After listening, I told her, “I know Mam Maw, but I still want her to give me one! I absolutely want to see what one of those things feels like!”

Well, after I had said that, I gave my Grandmother a big hug and rode my bike back home and instead of going inside, I got up on the porch and sat down on the porch swing.

In fact, I was still on that swing when Mam Maw drove up into the drive way.

I watched her as she got out of her car. She, then, pulled out a rather large sack with her and after closing the car door, she walked up onto the porch and sat down on the swing with me.

The swing rocked us back and forth for several minutes. Then she said “ok, Mike, I went to the Rexall drug store downtown before I came over here. While I was there I purchased your Mother an enema bag to use on you. I don't think that she has one. Now, I am going in to talk to her for you. I can't promise you anything so we will just have to wait and see what her response will be! Is that alright with you?”

I replied “oh, Yes, Mam Maw! Oh yes! I love you so!”

I, then, gave her a hug and she got up off the swing and went inside.

About 15 minutes or so later, Mam Maw came out of the house without the sack.

I smiled up at her!

She gave me a thumbs up and blew me a kiss as she went to her car where she got in and drove off.

I stayed on the swing thinking Mama would come to the door and get me.

After several minutes, I decided that she wasn't coming. So, I went in and found Mother sitting at that small kitchen table. I sat down in the chair opposite her.

Nothing was said for several minutes. But, finally, Mom said “Mike, I just don't know what I am going to do with you. I can't believe you went to my Mother's house and involved her in this crazy request that you have. Why in the world would you do that?”

I wondered to myself, couldn't she tell? But, didn't say anything!

I just sat there looking at the sack that Mam Maw had brought in with her. For it was sitting right there beside Mom.

Then I finally spoke I saying “Please!”

Mama shook her head, got up and left the room leaving the sack sitting right in front of me.

I being curious pulled the box out of the sack and opened it. What I saw in front of me was this orange-red hot water bottle; some orange-red tubing; a silver looking shut-off and 2 black nozzles. One I learned was an enema nozzle and the other was a female douche nozzle.

I must have stared at the pieces a minute or so and then I put the top back on the box and slid the box back into the sack. After the box was once again secure in the sack, I got up and went into the living room where Mom was watching tv and sat down across from her.

Several weeks passed. I had about given up on her giving me that adult enema I so desired!

Then, one Saturday morning, a Saturday when neither one of us had anything particular to do that things changed. For, I didn't have school and Mom didn't have to go to work! On normal weekends like this, we'd just sleep in!

But, not this Saturday.

Mom had gotten up at the normal time. I did not.

I don't know to this day, if Mam Maw had called or not. But, for some reason, she had decided to honor my request!

Anyway, Mama prepared my enema first before waking me up!

Then, she came into my bedroom and woke me up by tickling the backside of my neck.

When I was fully awake, she pulled me up out of bed and led me into the bathroom that was beside my bedroom. Once we were both in there I saw the box that Mam Maw had bought lying open on the washing machine that was in my bathroom. It was empty, but, then I noticed hanging on the wall above the toilet was the hot water bottle.

I didn't move. Then, I focused on the red-orange tubing. It was attached to the bottom of the hot water bottle. The tubing, itself, was hanging almost to the floor. ,Staring at it, I noticed that about, mid-way up the hose from the floor was the silver looking thing and on the end closest to the floor was a black nozzle glistening with Vaseline.

I kind of got scared and left the room and hid behind my closet door.

I was there about a minute, when Mom called out “Mike, if you want me to give you this here enema that I have so lovingly prepared for you, you had better get in here right now, because if you don't, I am going to take it down and if I do, I do not want to hear another word about you wanting me to give you an adult enema! You hear me!"

Well, it didn't take me a second to decide and I went back into my bathroom where I saw Mama holding the tubing in her right hand.

I got out of my under ware and took that first adult enema.

But, that wasn't the only adult enema I got that day. Mama ended up giving me 3 adult enemas that morning and I must say that I absolutely loved everyone of them!

After expelling the last of the three, I went into the kitchen and found Mama and told her that!

Later, I heard Mom on the phone with Mam Maw and they were talking about the enemas Mama gave me that morning! Wow!

I guess it all started early on when I was around 7 or 8 when my mother caught me sliding a pair of crochet needles up my butt. When she asked why I told her the truth, “because it feels good.” Fast forward to age 15 when my mother caught me cleaning up from using the family’s well-hidden red rubber closed top enema bag. She was furious! She made me throw the whole thing into the outside garbage that got taken that day. I was crying the whole time.

I was stupid enough to put away all the enema equipment but the bake light douche nozzle that I left in my jeans.

Next thing I knew was seeing the nozzle on top of the dryer when Mom did my laundry. Embarrassing, but Mom never brought this up, and I put it back in the bathroom drawer.

At this point she knew.

I stopped getting enemas from mom about 10 so don't think she did know at that point . I began to sneak them at about 13 when nobody was home for enough to for an enema .

When I had a climax on the commode in front of her. She was in total control of my enemas from start to finish. What got to me was her sticking that greasy black curved douche nozzle way up in my rectum and twisting it (she called it seating it). Oh, it felt so good then the hot, soapy water spraying my bowels. She was in control start to finish, looked at my results and determined if I needed anther enema. My Mom was bowel obsessed. I had to fart a great deal and plop a good amount for her to be satisfied. Oh, and cramp hard. Sorry to be so blunt but that's exactly the way it happened.

Sorry to be so blunt but that's exactly the way it happened.

@Moms_Egirl - amazing how our moms opened us to our erotic self's. Did they know what they were doing at the time, or just what they thought we needed. All I can say it, thank you mom…

When I had a climax on the commode in front of her. She was in total control of my enemas from start to finish. What got to me was her sticking that greasy black curved douche nozzle way up in my rectum and twisting it (she called it seating it). Oh, it felt so good then the hot, soapy water spraying my bowels. She was in control start to finish, looked at my results and determined if I needed anther enema. My Mom was bowel obsessed. I had to fart a great deal and plop a good amount for her to be satisfied. Oh, and cramp hard. Sorry to be so blunt but that's exactly the way it happened.

MomsEgirl,

Fun, enlightening post as usual. How old were you with that first commode enema climax? At the time, did you know what it really was? Did your mom say anything about it? Glad you enjoyed your pediatric enemas so much!

For myself, I don’t think my mom (expert RN) ever knew. I have no recall of anything sexual or erotic from childhood enemas. After I started giving them to myself at age 15, she probably noticed her amber latex enema/douche bag was wet, but never gave me even a hint that she thought I was having orgasms with my enemas.

Eric