Open use of enemas at home

Yes, we lived a half mile back off the road and had summer time enema play at the cow tank. Warm water was brought out from the kitchen in a 5 gallon bucket. It was hung high and siphoned out through a weighted hose dropped into the bucket. If it was too warm, cold water was caught from the well and dumped in till the temperature was proper. I would feel a cool rush when it started running up in me and learned to sigh heavily as it began. We would blow it out from a kneeling position and a mark was made where it hit. We used to have a Blk n Wht photo of daddy with mom's brazier strapped on and his belly looking pregnant, as it had gotten great. We could get refills to make another mark and try to better our last aim and squirt.

I also learned that a warm enema while leaning back in the cold cow's tank was something really extra nice. An enema reward for being helpful was sought after and greatly treasured. I liked to hide under her dress while she was standing at the stove or kitchen sink. I remember she would sometimes lift the hem a little and invite me in. I would crawl under and she would pet my head. I confessed a desire to get under and breath in her scent. I discovered there was a certain situation i had to be careful of like, if she would stop petting my head and just press it closer, causing me to struggle for breath. When she turned me loose, i was told to quickly go outside and play. Catching my breath, i raced out the door as if she was chasing me.

I was an only child at the time I was getting enemas, but they were given in various parts if the house, my bed, the bathroom with doors open. In the basement bathroom, my dad built a table out of 2x4s with a padded top. After this was built, that's where I got my enemas. I don't recall the door ever being closed and there was a large window that let light in, so things were pretty open. I never saw my parents getting enemas. The enema downstairs was from a white can which hung from a nail on the wall. It hung there between enemas. Upstairs, was a red bag, hose & big hard plastic nozzle (not douche). The bag hung from the shower head to dry, after whic it was hung on the back of the bathroom door where everyone, including visiting friends could see it. It was no big deal as enema bags were hung in their bathrooms as well.

@Public_Enema ....my dad built a table out of 2x4s with a padded top. After this was built, that's where I got my enemas.

Was the table used just for your enemas?

It wasn't a secret in our family. All of us kids got them regularly and the enema bag was out in plain sight in the bathroom most of the time. I know my mom gave them to my dad sometimes too. My sisters were invited to watch me receiving enemas as part of learning to give them and eventually they were allowed to give them to me and each other.

While enemas were fairly common in our home growing up they were a private affair. But if I was in my room I could clearly hear what was happening in the bathroom next door. Knowing who had entered or exited the bathroom I also knew who the recipient was. Later if I went into the bathroom the enema bag would be there drying on the towel bar. Also if the bathroom smelled like Ivory soap it had been an enema but a minty odor and the open top syringe I later figured out that mom had douched.

@Imperfectionist said,

My sisters were invited to watch me receiving enemas as part of learning to give them and eventually they were allowed to give them to me and each other.

When we were growing up in the nineteen fifties, enemas were a common remedy for a lot of different maladies. We didn’t get enemas on a regular schedule, but we might as well have had. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Mom, grandma, or mom's teenage sisters were always giving us enemas for something. During the summer, when we spent a lot of time at grandmas, this was especially true of mom’s teenage sisters. They liked enemas as much as we did, and I think they looked for excuses to give us enemas, so they could give themselves enemas afterwards. This was made easy for two reasons. First, grandma had a large downstairs bathroom with a dual head shower, making it convenient to take care of us together. Second, grandma delegated our bath time to the two girls. This included giving us a spanking when we got in trouble, enemas as needed, and giving us a shower. Plus, the girls were first to let us participate in giving our siblings enemas, a good year before mom did.

The year I was ten, mom started letting our younger sister hold the rectal nozzle in place when she gave my brother and I enemas. In the beginning that’s all she did, but when mom started letting her lubricate us with a Vaseline covered finger before inserting the rectal nozzle, we bitched about it. We told mom, it wasn’t fair she got to help when we didn’t. Afterwards, mom let my brother and I help as well. After a few months, all she basically did was supervise us giving each other enemas. Things didn’t change at grandmas, we continued to get enemas from her and our aunts. Tho our level of participation had increased with the girls. Mom continued to supervise us at home until our RN grandmother taught us personal hygiene and enemas became our responsibility. This happened the summer I turned twelve. From that point forward, we either did our own enemas or we gave them to each other. Grandma continued to give us a 3H enema every summer and our aunts continued their assistance one on one. When they offered their help, as a rule, we accepted because we really enjoyed how they administered enemas.

In our case, enemas only ever took place with two actors behind a closed bathroom door; mom gave, my older brother or I had to take. Dad was somehow completely left out and was never a topic of conversation for him. How our parents treated each other for enemas remained a secret to my brother and me. That was probably their secret.

Again, anyone who used our bathroom saw that enemas were taking place in this household. In the past, the rubber bulb was placed with the nozzle pointing downwards in a glass whose diameter was slightly smaller than that of the bulb and stood on a small shelf. Later there was a rubber bag with a tube and nozzle hanging behind the door.

I haven't done yet looking for someone to help me to do it

Small addendum:

The rubber bulb remained for a long time despite the introduction of the rubber bag. Mom seemed to enjoy using it, at least on me occasionally.

Enemas were not exactly a secret at our home when I was growing up, but they weren't really advertised either. I had to get enemas fairly often, and I think that nearly every close relative of my family knew this. Occasionally I would hear it talked about between adult family members about my constipation problems, holding back, and the enemas.

We had Fleet enemas in the towel closet which would had been visible to anyone opening the closet. The bag was stored someplace in mom's room. It'd sometimes hang in the bathroom from a towel rack prior to use, and would usually hang there for a while after use to dry. Most of the time I'd be given a disposable enema for my constipation, but if it had been apparent or even merely just seemed that holding back was what had caused my constipation I'd have to get an enema from the bag.

I was glad that the equipment and disposals weren't on full display, but always wished that the disposals had been a bit more concealed. Anyone looking for a clean towel or extra TP couldn't miss seeing them in the small closet along with other bathroom odds and ends. And of course, most anyone seeing those knew they were for me.

I find this thread very interesting. For those whose families were open about enemas (in use and discussion), did you somehow sense that it was something not to be mentioned outside the family? Were you maybe explicitly told not to tell anyone? Very curious about this.

@Red_bag_user said,

For those whose families were open about enemas (in use and discussion), did you somehow sense that it was something not to be mentioned outside the family?

In the nineteen fifties when my siblings and I grew up, enemas were commonplace, and it wasn’t unusual to talk about or have a discussion about them. At home, mom gave us enemas laying across our bed together. However, at our grandmothers, she gave us enemas in private, but her two teenage daughters didn’t. The two girls gave us enemas in their mom’s big downstairs bathroom together at bath time. In Junior High School, the textbook we used in Health class had a chapter on enemas. So, were we explicitly told not to tell anyone? The short answer is, no we weren’t. What would be the point, enemas weren’t a taboo subject in the fifties and sixties, like they are today.

I may be a bit younger than you but I cannot remember any discussion of enemas as a child. There certainly wasn’t anything in textbooks, etc. my wife is also an enthusiast, about the same age, and she can’t remember anything either. We both grew up in Ohio, where did you?

I grew up in the 1950's and 1960's. My mom was a frequent enema user, she was often constipated. I take after her, so we both had frequent enemas. I can only remember my Dad having a couple of them, and he was no fan. Enema use was very open. It would start with her stripping off her clothes in the bathroom and going across the hall to the linen closet to retrieve the combination B.F. Goodrich Coronet syringe from the closet. I would hear water running as she filled the bag and hung it from the open door on the medicine cabinet over the sink. She would always call me and say that if I need to pee, to do it now, as she would be taking an enema and tie up the bathroom for a while. I would always go pee just so I could see the budging full bag hanging there with the black adult enema nozzle, slick with Vaseline, hanging over the side of the sink. I was always amazed at how full the bag was since she only filled it part way for my enemas. She would still be in the bathroom, nude, while waiting for me to pee. I could not decide where to look, at her beautiful hips or the bright red enema bag! When I was younger (I was an only child) if her and I were the only ones home, and no one to watch me, my mom would often leave the bathroom door open so she could at least hear me to try and keep me out of trouble. (If my Dad was home she would always shut the door.) If the door was open, I would slowly sneak down the hall and look at my mom laying on her back, feet flat, feet to the door, so I could see her thick bush and the red hose disappearing into the crack of her butt, the shiny clamp close to the nozzle. I marveled over how full the bag was and at her ability to take it all. I would move down the hall just as the bag emptied so she did not see me lying in the floor, peeking around the door frame, as she arose to get on the toilet. I would stay within ear shot to hear her expel. The squirting, plopping and groaning made me think of my own enemas at her hands. After use the bag would hang on the shower head to dry for a couple of days for all to see. Often while she was expelling I would go find something suitable to stick up my rectum, imagining that she was giving me an enema. From an early age I was hooked! Loving enemas and any sort of anal activity.

@Red_bag_user said,

We both grew up in Ohio, where did you?

My siblings and I grew up in the southern United States.

Could that make a difference? Interesting.

As a kid, it was normal to do enemas with others, neighbors' children or cousins, and in front of others who were watching.

Our house growing up was small and just one bathroom If you were home everyone knew what was happening in the bathroom plus Mom told everyone when someone was getting an enema. I saw most and heard my sisters first few enemas I knew I didn't want one, about 8 months later the bag was filling my bum . I hated them back then.

@Red_bag_user had stated and asked -

I find this thread very interesting. For those whose families were open about enemas (in use and discussion), did you somehow sense that it was something not to be mentioned outside the family? Were you maybe explicitly told not to tell anyone?

I unfortunately had thought back then that my enemas weren't kept secret enough. I was mortified enough that family members knew. There was NO CHANCE that I was going to discuss or even mention anything about my enemas to other people, not that my mom or anyone else in the family would had probably cared. I have never thought of the enemas I received as a kid sexual abuse, back then or now. My mom seemed to more regard it as a chore than getting any kind of delight from it. I was an encopresis kid.

@Red_bag_user said,

Could that make a difference? Interesting.

Personally, I don’t think so. Growing up in the nineteen fifties, we heard a lot of comments about enemas being a southern thing. In today’s world, with the internet, I think it’s more a family thing than the region of the country you’re from. Our grandmother was a retired registered nurse and a firm believer in enemas for kids, teenagers, and adults. And one thing she did, was make sure we all knew how to give others and ourselves enemas. Along with accepting our own, as well others, nudity as a part of daily life and not to be ashamed of it.

@edwasss said,

I have never thought of the enemas I received as a kid sexual abuse, back then or now. My mom seemed to more regard it as a chore than getting any kind of delight from it.

In the nineteen fifties when we were growing up, enemas and spankings were commonplace for both kids and teenagers. Enemas were given for a variety of different reasons, and spankings were for punishment. When you got into something, said something inappropriate, or did something you shouldn’t have. You were rewarded with a bare bottom spanking for your transgression. After the spanking, you received a two-quart rinse enema to help calm down. It wasn’t then, nor is it now, by any stretch of the imagination child abuse. They were tried and true health and discipline measures.

I grew up in a time frame where an enema was openly and commonly used for very practical reasons. The equipment was openly displayed and ready for use.

When practical use is desired, things are pretty open. When stimulating or sensual use is desired, the process and outcums are kept behind closed doors in cases where a casual observer might be shocked or offended. The kids needn't observe either.

I, too, grew up in the 50’s and 60’s. Most every home had at least one enema bag or bulb. Mine was no exception. I was given enemas because of a birth defect that made my rectum sluggish. As far as I knew I was the only one who got enemas. I didn’t exactly love bulb enemas. Too many insertions. Now, when Mom gave me my first adult bag enema, I literally fell in love with them. Mother could not understand my fascination with them. In fact, she thought that I was crazy to want her to give them to me. Well, crazy or not, I still love the feeling

Got enemas in hospital and at home no secret often given in front others