The wonderful feeling of enemas

Growing up, my siblings and I generally got an enema after receiving a spanking. When dad spanked us, we didn’t get an enema. But when mom, grandma, or our aunts spanked us we did. I’ll say this, an enema after a spanking definitely took my mind off my sore behind.

Grandma started the practice, when she offered us an enema after spanking us, that we were free to accept or refuse. With mom or our aunts, they gave us an enema afterwards, wanted or not. Dad, on the other hand, didn’t. He sent us to the corner naked for an undetermined amount of time. We had to stand quietly in the corner, with our red behinds showing, with explicit instructions not to rub or touch our sore bottoms. If we got caught rubbing our sore bottom, it was back over dad's lap for another spanking.

Just to note: When grandma offered us an enema afterwards, I for one, usually accepted her offer. It was better than standing naked in the corner, not being able to rub my sore behind. After all, an enema after a spanking wanted or not, helped take my mind off my sore bottom.

A good Enema for me are emens erotic. Its making my body Horny in a way, nothing els can . Just to feel it flow into your body and mind , are like drug to me . In a sexuelle way . To see the Enema bag getting flad and empty are so Horny to see. To feel the Enema hose inside you are emens erotic. And when the Enema are a strong quality, i can feel my anal open up by its one. The feeling are extremely erotik. And feel the Enema going out in a great gush. Nothing are better then this . If you dont have a Enema friend like i lokkely have . We both are 💯 Klismo.

Getting ready this evening to give myself a good clean-out after raking leaves all day today.

Using a 2 quart bag, colon tube, water with some Bronner's Castile.

Sadly, my father--more than a little sociopathic, forced them upon me at an early age.

But now a do have an enema fetish, and learned to enjoy them.

@Silverfox your story sounds familiar to me of late. My late brother told me just before he passed that our dad would give him enemas. He didn't tell me why but we knew our dad was I won't say abusive but from the comments he once made to me has made me wonder whether he forced those enemas. He never did attempt to force or coerce me. I often wonder how I would have reacted had he done so.

I have many posts where I talk about growing up with one older sister, Tess who I shared enemas with and two younger sisters, Diane and Robin who hated enemas. In the early 50s we grew up on our grandparents farm in WV and as it seems to be with all of us here on Zity enemas were part of growing up. I always enjoyed watching mom prepare the enema while I removed pants and under pants. The red bag was hung on a hook next to the window where anyone outside could see it and the hose, mom sat on the window seat, towel on her lap, me laying across her lap watching every move in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door as she took the hose from the top of the bag, rubbed Vaseline on the nozzle now headed for my butt, insertion, she reached for the shutoff and CLICK.

But when we moved to Philadelphia, enemas were now on our beds. Mom put a rubber sheet on the recipient's bed covered with a bath towel and went to the bathroom to prepare the enema. She would carry the enema to the bedroom and lay it on the bed, call the recipient who was told to remove pants and undies, lay down on our stomachs, I would watch in the mirror on the dresser as mom picked up the nozzle, lubed it, inserted it, then picked up the bag holding it up with one hand, reached for the shutoff, I waited for the click and settled in for my enema.

When one of my sisters got enemas I would almost always "need" to go to the bathroom, passing their bedroom door and seeing them getting their enema, especially Diane who would always have both hands squeezing her pillow and grunting as she got her enema, and there was always the bare butt run to the bathroom.

So it wasn't just getting an enema, I also enjoyed knowing someone else was getting one, was going to get one, or had just got one. Tess didn't care if I saw her, but Diane or Robin would holler "Marty just walked by the door" and mom would usually say "if you find enemas that interesting maybe you want one too". Sadly she never went through with that threat. I would say "I had to pee"! Mom replied "Be sure to leave the seat down and the lid up".

Memories...........

That's why I'm LostInThe50s!

Marty

I think the best part is when either my nother or when a female nurse or significant other female told me that I need to give you an enema one time I had a female friend, who is talking about rectal exams, and procedures. She then asked me if i'd ever had an enema and I told her I had, and enjoyed it when my mother gave me one she then said I'm going to give you an enema, and it was very enjoyable experience

PinotNoir and Iris1858 are right on !! When I am receiving an enema I am totally focused on all the feelings and sensations that come with the enema.

For me getting an enema involves my mind, body and spirit. I would get excited whrn I knew that I was going to get an enema. Watching my mother preparing the enema by filling the bag with the solution, then having to undress and be naked before getting into the tub and laying on the towel anticipating the insertion of the enema nozzle into my bottom, hearing the snap of the clamp and the feeling of the enema solution flowing into me.

I felt so vulnerable and totally submissive.

To this day I still enjoy the same feelings of total trust and submission to my enema partner when I am given an enema.

My sisters and I grew up receiving different enemas. Both the recipes and the quantities varied as well as the different types of syringes. Some were emollient such as the potato starch enemas which were syringed by a bulb syringe and I had to retain them for a number of hours although I wanted to expel them and, by the time I was allowed to, almost all if not all the enema had been absorbed. I did feel violated by those daily morning starch enemas caused by antibiotics causing me to have diarrhea. Yet the lubricated nozzle penetrating my anus against my will and my being unable to prevent its entry and feeling the warm, thick enema flowing through my anus as Mom slowly squeezed the bulb attached to the short nozzle caused me to get an unwanted erection each time. The syringing of that enema which I hated because I was forced to retain it caused such a pleasant sensation inside my anus as the tip of the nozzle touched my prostate that I would masturbate after Mom finished and left and a year later I started giving myself the same type of enemas to try to reproduce the pleasure sensations I felt yet they felt different as these were not enemas that I was forced to accept and retain against my will. Others produced gas in the rectum and colon resulting in an uncontrollable gush of enema, gas and all else once we were allowed to expel them. These were given also by bulb syringe. Our tummies would start to gurgle loudly as they filled with gas. A balloon nozzle ensured retention of these enemas until the timer rang . My oldest sister got a butterfly vibrator which she would use and also some other types she gave to my sisters and they would walk around buzzing with happy faces while their tummies filled with the crampy gas. Fully filled bags with warm soapy water were given us once or twice a week. We were expected to retain them for at least twenty minutes, longer if we could. Once the bag was empty and we were full, Mom would leave and we would lie on the bed and pleasure ourselves. My oldest sister introduced me to the pleasure of vibrating anal plugs and silicone dildos while waiting to expel the crampy solutions. The syringe I loved most was the Higgenson syringe attached to a douche nozzle and held in my anus while my oldest sister squeezed the bulb. She would attach it to a really full closed fountain syringe and fill me up with herbal enemas. I would squeeze my buttocks tight around the nozzle and enjoy the spurts of enema through the side holes. This enema would make my penis very hard and I often would ejaculate just from the syringing but I would also masturbate some to help things along. We all came to enjoy the enemas even the ones we didn't want. We didn't get a choice. Mom decided for us. We just submitted to receiving the enemas. I liked seeing my older sisters receiving them in the knee chest position and even more my highschool girlfriend whose puffy lips would get soaked while I gave her her enemas.