When did you start sneaking enemas?

When did the enema craving take you to the point you just had to start sneaking them and was it just one enema or several?

I believe i was around 10 or 11. Mom stopped giving me enemas around that time, I think it was because I couldn’t hide my erections.

Whenever I had the house to myself, usually after school I would have about 3 hours. I would retrieve the enema equipment from the linen closet and get started.

I started with the small enema nozzle and graduate to the douche nozzle, this is where I fell in love with the white douche nozzle, even to this day.

As far as how many I’m not sure, I would guess between the two nozzles it must have 4 or 5.

After I turned 12, and sprouting hair and getting erections mom stopped giving them to me. This led me to do them when I had the whole house to myself. I enjoyed getting filled and masturbate to orgasm.

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By the time I was 10 years old I started sneaking enemas in my parents bathroom.

At the age of six, I knew I liked enemas and within a few years I was self-administering them as often as I could have some uninterrupted time in my parents’ bathroom when my parents were not home.

My interest in and love for enemas began at age six when my mom gave me a punishment enema because I played doctor with a neighbor kid. I had showed my friend how to give an injection in the bum. Not having been to medical school, I didn't know that injections go in the butt cheeks and in lieu of a syringe, I used my index finger and pressed it into my friend's bottom hole and then, after I thoroughly training him in the proper technique, I had him return the favor. Later, when his mom asked what we did for fun that afternoon, he told her. She did not see the fun in it. Kill joy! Neither did my mom. Kill joy!

The next day, to teach me a thing or two about sticking things in my bottom, Mom said, "I'll teach you a thing or two about sticking things in your bottom."

I had no idea what was happening when she took my into the master bathroom, had me strip naked, and told me to bend forward with my hands on my knees. From behind, she inserted the black nozzle into my rectum and the single squeeze of the red bulb taught me a lesson, just not the one she was trying to teach. When the spray of warm water hit my insides, I knew I was in love with whatever it was that she had just done to me. I let out a shriek of surprise and immediately made it sound like a shriek of anguish because I knew it was supposed to be punishment, not pleasure.

Within a few years, whenever my parents were gone and one of my older sisters, under duress, was babysitting by using the method of letting me do whatever I wanted as long as I left her alone to talk on the phone with her friends and I didn’t burn the house down on her watch, I would wait until she was on her phone call and then I would say, “I have to go to the bathroom” and she would scowl and growl with derision, denigration, defamation, deprecation, denunciation, disdain, disregard, disrespect, and disparagement, “Whatever” and waved me off with the back of her hand.

And I knew I had at least two hours . . .

So off I went to my parents' bathroom . . . where the red bulb thingamabob was hidden at the back of the big middle drawer. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I had the basic concept: Put water in the red bulb, put the nozzle in my bottom hole, put the water in me by squeezing the red bulb, put myself on the toilet to expel, and repeat for two hours or until the babysitter pounds on the door and asks, “Hey, are you almost done in there?”

I eventually discovered the red bag with white tubing and a few other enema delights. With lots of experimentation and loads of mishaps, I kind of worked out how they worked. With all the enema equipment I found, I knew my mom was definitely into enemas and so I wondered why she didn’t give us kids enemas on a regular basis as a matter of course.

No worries. I had ample opportunities to self-administer enemas on my own, and I never got caught, but I sometimes suspected she suspected that someone was using her equipment because I couldn’t completely dry it out or put back in the exactly same position I found it, but she never said anything.

And so, I’ve been giving myself enemas nigh on 60 years, but I no longer have to sneak them as my wife is well aware of my love for enemas. Alas, she does not share my penchant for them, but I have no complaints because she fully participates in all my crazy anal play as the person who inserts and manipulates the many butt plugs, dildos, and other anal toys in my rectum, as well as her fingers, hand, and wrist.

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@Bulbsandbags Wow. my experience history is so similar to yours!

After I turned 12, and sprouting hair and getting erections mom stopped giving them to me. This led me to do them when I had the whole house to myself. I enjoyed getting filled and masturbate to orgasm.

Pretty much the same here

First in the hospital for tonsillectomy and getting my first remembered enema from a nurse using a white can, red hose, black nozzle at 5 years old, at first I FREAKED when she tried to put the nozzle in my butt, then OK this isn't bad.....feels like when mom took my temperature, then Click! Warm water, feels good, OK, that's enough, I gotta go! Finally tube out, placed on bed pan, not happy, no chance of holding it, it's coming out! In spite of the fear at the beginning, I was hooked!

I got home and told Tess, my 2 years older sister about the experience with the nurse, Tess told me "I helped mom give you enemas when you were little, she used the red squeeze thing in your butt and after the first squirt mom handed it to me to fill while she held you down." I didn't remember those but Tess was already taking enemas herself and she got me into her play too. In the early 50s we lived on our grandparents farm in WV, we had a lot of free alone time, and Tess and I would take the "red squeeze thing" down to a creek that ran through the property and treat each other. Or we sometimes went out behind the barn where there was a cut off garden hose we used to fill each other. So I started sneaking them at about 5 1/2 YO with Tess.

My first remembered enema from mom was between 5 and 6 in the big upstairs bathroom using what I later learned was our grandmother's open top red bag. I remember not feeling well that day, being grumpy, mom had me go with her to the upstairs bathroom, we went in but nothing was said about her intentions, she told me to remove my shoes, pants, and underwear, I did as told while she got a red bag & hose out of the closet and ran water in the sink. Based on what I remembered about the nurse, I now had an idea about what she was going to do. I nervously watched her use a measuring cup to put water in the bag, I don't know how much water was used but I would guess about a pint to 1.5 pints, I remember her saying "I think an enema will help you" (there's that word I learned from Tess) as she hung it on a hook next to the window seat, she sat down and told me to lay across her lap. I did and while watching every move in the full length mirror on the back of the door, mom reached for the hose that was in the top of the bag, dipped her finger in the jar of Vaseline on the sink, rubbed it on the black nozzle, I watched and felt it as it was inserted remembering the feeling as the same as the nurse. It was only a second or two when mom reached for the silver clamp and CLICK! The magic started again! I remember her favorite instructions while giving an enema were usually "don't fight the enema, let the water in or we'll have to do it again". It wasn't long before I had to go! Shortly, it stopped, mom said "now hold it for a few minutes so it will work or we'll have to do it again". She wound the timer to 5 minutes, it was 5 minutes later (but it felt like an hour), DING! I hit the toilet and EXPLODED!

Now having the information about how to get a second enema, it wasn't too long before I started using this "loophole" to get a second enema. Not every time but often enough to raise questions like "I don't know why you can't take or hold a small enema". I remember saying things like "it's just too hard" or "I'm sorry, I just couldn't take any more", or "I can't hold it, it's going to come out".

That's why I'm still LostInThe50s

I would say that self taking of actual enemas started around 9 or 10 years old. This was after my first dry orgasm shortly after a bulb enema from my mother for constapation. That memory is still fresh in my mind 66 years later.

When I was young, I would sneak the bulb out of the bathroom and give myself enemas. I would prepare the water in a drinking glass from our kitchen and use the soap that was in the bathroom 🙄 This was after my mom had stopped giving them to me when I was six years old, I missed the way that they felt and wanted to still feel them again. Even though I hated getting them at the time, I liked how they felt and thought about them pretty often. That all came to an end when my mom found one of the drinking glasses in my closet with the enema bulb inside of it. And the tub of Vaseline. She never mentioned it to me, but everything had disappeared out of my closet and the enema bulb was back under the bathroom sink 😩🪦

I was around 10 or 11 years old when I started secretly giving myself enemas. This was my stage in exploring my anal sensations through enemas and anal stimulation. I'd do a series of enemas and then play with my anus with my fingers. There was a lot of medical literature in the house, and I read about prostate massage, after which, after giving an enema, I massaged my prostate. I started ejaculating later than I did giving myself enemas, and my first enemas were without orgasms or ejaculation, but they were still enjoyable and brought me great pleasure.

I think I was around 8 when I started sneaking enemas. I remember mom had given me an enema with the red bulb. Just a couple of squirts. She left the bathroom while I was on the toilet. I saw the bulb sitting there on the sink. There was still water in the sink. So I gave myself a couple more squirts with the bulb. It was just a little while later before I started giving myself small enemas while I was taking my bath. I thought the sound of the water draining from the tub masked me expelling in the toilet.

Must have been at the age of 9 or 10 or so, that I remember first digging out mom's douche bulb from my parents' bathroom closet, the very bulb and nozzle she used on us. It had quite a long bent bakelite nozzle, I would guess at least 6 inches. Anyhow, I posted in another thread about how mom would have me sit on the toilet, bending forward and down between her legs for her to stand over me while inserting the nozzle to the hilt before squeezing. I also mentioned that thinking back on it, she must have inserted the nozzle past my rectosigmoid bend, because I felt no pressure near my anus when the bulb was squeezed. I could briefly feel the nozzle passing some obstacle going in, and the pressure was was introduced higher up. Highly pleasant, I might add....

I discovered the same sensation when I inserted the nozzle into my bum for the first time sneaking an enema, and having the distinct feeling of it encountering a kind of obstacle going in, which then "gave" as I pressed it home all the way. No pain, just a weird feeling. When I squeezed the bulb (which had some air in it) I could again feel the bubbles and water going in higher up into me, and it felt fantastic! I was hooked on self-administering, right there and then. Sneaking enemas became a regular activity as I had most afternoons after school with a few hours to kill before the folks came home. I still enjoy pumping a sizeable amount of air in with my enemas to this day, the sensation remains exhilarating.

My sister and I were about six and eight when we first started giving ourselves and each other enemas. The enema bulb was kept under the bathroom sink, visible when we got out the bottle of bubble bath soap. We started taking the bulb into the tub with us to squirt water at each other. I remember mom coming in to check on us and saw the bulb. She told us to, “Put that thing away, it’s not a toy.” Of course we knew what it was since it had been used on both of us from time to time.

It started quite innocently. We took turns squirting water at each other and my sister ended up on her hands and knees in front of me, maybe threatening to fart in my face. I squirted water directly on her little hole. She didn’t move so I refilled the bulb and touched the nozzle to her little hole. She still didn’t move, so I slipped it into her and squeezed some water in. Still not moving, I did it again. Then she turned around and said it was her turn to do me. At first I hesitated but when she threatened to tell mom what I did to her, I turned around and let her give me two squirts too. Then it was a dash to the toilet. Later mom came in and scolded us for getting water all over the floor, and toilet, saying we should go to the toilet before we got into the tub. I don’t think she knew what happened to cause us to have to get out of the tub so fast.

My sister and I did that several times over a couple of years before we started growing hair and boobs and we took showers separately instead of baths together. That’s when I started giving myself enemas with the bulb at other times when I had the chance, just because it was fun.

From earliest memory I was both drawn to and frightened by the idea of receiving an enema. I would often sneak the red bulb out of the medicine cabinet and play with this intriguing instrument until I was discovered. At first it was just pretend enemas, then inserting the nozzle and squeezing air. I imagine the real injections of water happened soon after. At 5 the red bulbs were replaced with the terrifying enema bag. Though the change of equipment was quite traumatic, it was not long before I would explore the linen closet to see, smell and feel this new red bag. So as to when I began self administering enemas, with the enema bulbs it was 4 or 5 playing with them. For the bag enemas I was about 8 or 9 before I tried it out in some capacity.

Wow, Cheryl, it would have been interesting to be a fly on the wall.

Inquiring minds want to know if you and your sister continued to give each other enemas after you outgrew taking your baths together?

Looking back, I now find it interesting that my sister and I did not give each other enemas when we were teenagers, even though we sometimes gave ourselves enemas with the other present. We might assist each other with preparing or cleaning up after, but we didn’t actually give the enema to the other. I think it was a control thing for me. I got to choose when to turn the water on and off, how fast, and how much.

Growing up, we had family enemas Wednesday night and Saturday morning, so there was never a reason to sneak them. Sometimes, my sister and I would do them for fun at other times. Our Aunt Ruth was only ten years older, and loved doing enemas with us. We would go to her house (next door), and tell her we wanted to do enema play. I do not recall her ever saying no. So, the long and short: enemas were a regular part of our lives, so no need to sneak. As an aside, Aunt Ruth was especially fond of doing enemas with me, and I loved giving to her. We did them together frequently even after I left home.

My mother had given me bulb enemas when I was 4 - 6 years old. I remember her giving me bag enemas when I was 8-10 years old.

I was about that time that I fashioned my own enema from a piece of soft plastic tubing and a balloon attached to the end. I would fill the balloon through the tube and twist the balloon closed. Then I would awkwardly insert the tube into my rectum untwist the balloon and get a quick rudimentary enema. But it as enough to get me hooked.

Fast forward to the age of 12-13, my dad was making good money and we moved to a house in the country suburbs. My parent were taking weekend trips to NYC. That's when I found my mom's enema bag kit! I was snooping around in her vanity and found it in the cardboard box.

I instantly had an erection as I took it out of the box and started to assemble the hose to the stopper and nozzle. I was trembling as I filled the bag with hot water. I found the Vaseline and put some on the nozzle. I hung the bag on the towel hook and stripped all of my clothes off. Standing nude in front of the mirror I bent forward and slid the nozzle into my rectum. I was panting and nervous as I opened the clip to let the water flow. I could feel a little bit flow in but then it kinda stopped. I submissively got on my hands and knees while holding the nozzle in with my other hand and that's when the water really started to fill me up.

I couldn't help it - I started to masturbate and was cumming in spurts instantly. I've been hooked ever since!

I received my first remembered enema from my mother when I was prepared for a tonsillectomy when I was 8 yrs old. Doctor ordered a "2 pint soapy enema" the night before the operation at home. From then on, I developed an interest in enemas by viewing the "equipment" as seen in various Sears catalogs, especially at my grandparents house. I could sit in their big corner chair, where no one realized I was perusing through the women's swimsuit and bra sections, as well as the enema and douche bags and bulbs for sale.

At some point, in my early teens, I realized that my mother had an enema bag stored in a brown paper bag on the top shelf of her bedroom closet. I was an only child, and eventually my parents would go out shopping or visiting, and leave me at home alone. That's when my sneaking of enemas started. I would have to be in a rush, as I had no way of knowing when they would return. I'd have to fill up the bag, take the enema, expel it, empty the bag, try to dry it off, and return it to the closet in the brown paper bag, without it being "wet". It wasn't easy. There were couple of close calls when they came back, and I was just finishing up.

When I was about 13 or 14, they got an invitation to a wedding, where children weren't invited,, so I was thrilled to know that in a few weeks, I would be alone for at least 4 hours. The anticipation of that day was so exciting. I could take a real relaxed enema,, have the bed ready, assume a good position, decide on the amount, what type of solution to use.. all the preparation. Of course, back in 1966 or so, there was no internet, so all my information had to come from medical books in the library. I would go to that area, and open childrens or adult medical information books and search for constipation, then seeing if "how to give enemas" was there. I had to stand there in the shelves.. perusing through the books and taking in the information I needed in my head.

There were a few more times like that following the first "sneak" enema.. always an exciting time for me. I even tried to hold back on my bowel movements for a couple of days before the big event, hoping to have a really successful enema that did it's job. It wasn't easy to do that. LOL

When my siblings and I were kids, mom gave us enemas when needed two or three times a month. Occasionally however, she’d give us enemas for no reason whatsoever. There was always something about those enemas, that was on the naughty side. And as strange as it may sound, we actually looked forward to them.

At our grandmothers, it was a little different. When I was six, grandma taught moms two preteen sisters personal hygiene along with how to care for and give children enemas. Then gave the girls responsibility for our evening bath, including enemas. So, during the summer, when we stayed at grandmas most of the time, the girls took care of us. On Saturday evening at bath time, the girls gave us and themselves a soapy followed by a rinse enema. And like us, they enjoyed enemas, making enough excuses that we didn’t need too. They took care of that. Not a week went by, for one reason or the other, the girls always came up with something to get us and themselves another enema or two midweek.

I was only 5. I was given enemas and suppositories to help me go and mostly I was terrified of my parents putting things up my butthole. At the same time I did notice a rather pleasant feeling as I was fussing and crying. It was a slight tickle feeling downstairs. I had no idea what it was but I at this young age figured it was caused by the enema. It was a part of it all . One day being a very curious boy I was put down for an afternoon nap and I while laying in bed started to poke around my butt area with my fingers first and then a crayon . I was pretending to be getting an enema. I noticed as I thought about it all as I poked around down there I felt an incredible tickle that seemed to start inside my butt and then spread all over me. Needless to say I thought this feeling was amazing .

I then noticed if I moved around the crayon faster and kept my thoughts going about enemas the sensation only got more intense. I even got to a point where I started to breathe hard and it was not in my control . By this point I knew I just discovered the most incredible sensation ever. It felt so great. It was very overwhelming at this young age to feel this wonderful feeling.. I had no idea then what I felt I just thought it was my thoughts on enemas getting involved and intense and also at the same time poking around downstairs at the same time. I actually realized that I had a full on orgasm way back then it was dry but very intense. I remember I would shake because it felt so great to me…. It was so incredible. Naturally I have been hooked ever since these very early days . There were times when I could not keep my hands away from my butt… It became my favorite pastime LOL…. Decades later it hasn’t changed much

I was probably 13 or 14 and had already discovered that I loved sticking things up my ass. I did not like the mess. I had found a amber latex open top bag with a douche nozzle in the basement still in its original box. It may have been brand new, I really have no idea. I decided to give it a try to flush myself out before pleasure. I immediately fell in love with enemas. I almost never put anything inside me without a nice rinse out. It was not long before I was experimenting with volume, temperature, and position when taking my enemas. I snuck that bag into the bathroom with me so often that I quit putting it back in the basement and hid it in my closet. I'm now 61 and still in love with Big Warm Enemas, and never put anything inside without taking an enema.

Started at the age of ten seeing the red bag hanging upside down in the bathroom occasionally. The nozzle was always "the longer one" not the shorter one in the white vinyl bag. I didn't know why there was a bottle of vinegar under the sink until much later. Did not receive enemas or suppositories from family or other. Kinda bummed about this! About this time I had many questions about the opposite sex and the only place to find answers was my mom's stuff. I would come home from school to an empty house which gave me time to explore. No internet in those days. Early 80's, so magazines, medical books and tv provided some pieces to the puzzle. The tampon/pads in the trash were not out of the ordinary but the red bag was strange. Eventually I figured it out enough to try it. First the nozzle to put inside and move it around, it felt good. Next was adding some water and seeing it remove waste, it did have a purpose. Not sure how long but hearing vinegar and water associated with the word douche it all made sense and why guys didn't have one of these. My biggest fear was having everything clean and dried before anyone came home. Douching/enemas were fading about this time in history which is a shame. If mom knew, she never said anything. My affection for enemas grew until the age of eighteen when I moved out and found a whole appreciation for my fetish.

Very late learner started at 55 but have pleasantly been enjoying and exploring them thanks to Zity. Solo experience with multiple fills each session.

At about the age of 11 or 12 Mom was still asking every three days when we had gone poop last. I was already enjoying the enemas by then and of course would tell her that "not in three days" to get the enema from her. She decided we were old enough to do it on our own with her supervision, of course. So in between the normal three day routine I began sneaking in the extra enemas. After about 13 years old we just would get a reminder a couple times a week and so began enemas when I was home alone. There was 3 bags to choose from stashed under the bathroom sink so it became a game to see which ones were the best for how much I could get in and how long I could hold it. This has continued into adulthood and more than ever in my senior years. Have sneaked them in while visiting family and friends over the years whenever the opportunity presents itself!

I found my mom's fountain syringe in my mid-teens, and tried it. I had no idea what I was doing back then, and only made a mess. But it fueled my desire for more and to figure it out. I was too ashamed to ask my mom for help, as my family was very guarded in that respect. I don't know if mom or dad knew. My wife does, and doesn't like the idea. She's very vanilla, so I do enemas while traveling or when she's out of the house.

OP @Dr_Strangelove:

“When did the enema craving take you to the point you just had to start sneaking them and was it just one enema or several?”

Age 15 (summer vacation 1967), after discovering how to masturbate to my first-ever orgasm a few weeks before that. Only one enema that day, but I was hooked for life and started doing them right after that every few days or weeks to make orgasms even better. I’ll be 74 in February.