Enemas in the 1940s and 50s

I knew that others received enemas by all of the syringes I saw in other houses, (I grew up in the 50's and 60's). But I thought I was weird and the only person on earth who actually LIKED make that LOVED enemas! That all changed when Penthouse has the enema stories "special preference" letters and I saw ads in the back of Hustler magazine for enema specific photo magazines. "THERE ARE OTHERS! I EXCLAIMED! LOL

My mother grew up in a large family in the 1920's and 1930's where Enemas were a 'go-to' cure for many illnesses. So, when she married and became a mother she often turned to the enema bag when one of her kids was feeling poorly. She never needed much of an excuse to administer an enema, and would sometimes just say, "I think you could use a good clean out," and that was that!

My brothers were years older than I was and although I guessed they had gotten enemas from my mother growing up, I cannot remember them ever getting them.

My mother had a preference for 'enemas first' before she would resort to any laxatives. Perhaps it was because an enema produced quick, visible results on-the-spot! Her belief was reinforced by our pediatrician who always recommended "keep his bowels open" after a visit. Her sisters also openly spoke of enemas administered to my cousins which furthered her belief in a 'good enema.' Enemas became even more regular for me when that same doctor diagnosed me with spastic colon and prescribed baking soda enemas as a remedy.

In the 1950's we had an open-top Davol fountain syringe which was often seen drying drying in the bathroom and was used on all members of the family. It is till around and gets occasional use. In 1966 I got pinworms and my mother purchased a Rexall Victoria combination bag so as not to 'contaminate' the family bag. It got a lot of use to fight the worms, but after that episode, all of the enemas stopped. I don't know exactly why - but maybe the erections that were happening during the enemas had something to do with it.

I only got two more enemas from my mother - again at the advice of the same doctor - after a nasty bout of flu at 17. Shortly after that I went in the Army and never lived with my mother again.

@jekyll_doctor said,

It got a lot of use to fight the worms, but after that episode, all of the enemas stopped. I don't know exactly why - but maybe the erections that were happening during the enemas had something to do with it.

My grandmother was a retired RN and a firm believer in enemas for both kids and adults alike, receiving enemas for a variety of different reasons, as did the adults. When mom’s two younger sisters reached their preteens, grandma taught them personal hygiene along with how to care for children. Afterwards, they were responsible for their own enemas. At the same time, they also got the responsibility of doing our evening bath, including enemas when needed. Then like the two girls, the summer I turned twelve, grandma taught my siblings and I personal hygiene and enemas became our responsibility. I always suspected it had something to do with my brother and I getting a hard-on every time we received an enema. Because in the fifties, enemas were commonplace, but sex was a taboo subject. However, our two aunts continued to give us enemas with one difference. They no long gave us enemas together at bath time. Afterwards, enemas from the girls were done in private, but only after asking if we’d like any help. Speaking for myself, I rarely turned them down, and I don’t think my siblings did either.

Yup, all except the discussions. I never had discussions with schoolmates nor did I hear anyone in my family ever discuss enemas. One schoolmate girl found out I had a preference for enemas and told her friends she thought "I was weird". I saw her again many years later at a class reunion and wondered what would happen would I make a contact with her. I did and nothing happened. She was with her husband of many years (I knew him in school too), so I wonder whether anything was said between she and her husband or maybe she just forgot those early days. I really don't care either. We exchanged addresses and now exchange Holiday cards.

@kathy1949 that sounds so familiar. My Cousin Donna had her tonsils out as a pre-teen and I found out she got an enema and that turned me on like a bright light. I wanted so to talk to her about that enema (a discussion about the tonsils would have been secondary), but she would never discuss it with me despite her knowing that I had a penchant for enemas.

I was born in the early 50s and as a young boy growing up during that time I seen many of my cousins and my own family members receiving enemas. My mom normally used a bulb syringe enema on me when I was young. I received my first enema from a bag from my aunt one day when I was at her house and she decided that all the children at her house just needed a enema. It was a nice pleasant experience for me then. One enema evening I was called to the bathroom and my parents had a homemade enema, basically it was what today is a shower shot enema. Our bathtub faucet had a very small opening for water. My father made a adapter so enema tubing would hook to it. My dad turned on the water and water flow out of the nozzle, I laid across my moms lap, my mom didn’t want to get wet from the nozzle water so my dad squeezed the hose to stop the flow, my mom had a little trouble inserting the nozzle but it finally went in, water pressure built up in the hose and my dad released the hose and high pressure water went into me. It gave me a instant hard on, fluid went out of my penis. I was scared, my mom was mad at me because I soaked her really well. My mom never gave me a enema after that and I had uncontrollable hard on’s after that also. I used to run around the house naked with a hard on and to me I would use it to play like I was in a sword fight. My parents eventually would not allow me to do it anymore because it made other kids and family members uncomfortable. My mom gave me my first boner. Even in the 60s, 70s and 80s there was plenty of enema activity from friends I knew and enema situations just seemed to happen. I still enjoy them today. 😊

One other thing that I have shared elsewhere is this: when I was in high school, there was a girl who sat beside me in homeroom all three years we were there (10th, 11th, and 12th grades). We were also in several classes together and had numerous friends in common. I knew that she was very enamored of me. Although I liked her and we were friendly throughout high school, we never went out on a date. We would occasionally attend a party where we were both invited and came and went separately.

In an era of miniskirts, she dressed rather plainly and conservatively compared to our other friends. Much of that had to do with her parents. Although slightly overweight, there was a figure under those jumpers that she wore as I recall from seeing her in a one piece bathing suit at a pool party during our senior year. She was one of those students, like me, who knew what she wanted to do when she got out of high school. Her career was going to be in nursing.

While we were in high school, she first started volunteering at a local nursing home as a "candy striper." She later became a part-time employee and I did see her in her uniform for the nursing home after school. It was more revealing than her street clothes (you could tell she had a nice pair of breasts hidden away under those jumpers and shirts she wore). She clearly had a passion for what she did and we talked about what made a good versus bad nursing home (Federal nursing home standards were being developed while we were in high school and she and I went to public hearings on Capitol Hill over a two-day span).

She had her favorite patients, of course, and she told me a number of funny stories about them. One of the things she would tell me about were these old men who would occasionally need enemas for constipation and how "excited" they got and how erect they got as she would administer enemas to them. She told me that it was having a cute young girl with large breasts giving them these nice warm enemas ("one was never enough for dirty old men"). I sat there and listened and never said a word about my own enema fetish (oh, if only I had). But we were both born in 1953, in an era where enemas were still common and still occurring in 1968-1971. Anyway, we graduated high school. I went to North Carolina to pursue my engineering degree and she went to nursing school at the DC Hospital Nursing School. We saw each other again at a Christmas party for all our high school friends and I was still dating the girl I dated during my senior year of high school. The thing that I recall about the party was that a close friend of both of us showed up at the party pregnant. Oh, and we were making mixed drinks even though it was illegal in VA at our age (perfectly legal for the friend of mine from GA, though).

After early April, my girlfriend and I took a break from dating each other (it was a mutual thing). I returned to Northern Virginia in the second week of May for the summer break. My nursing school friend found out about my break in dating my high school girlfriend, called me, and invited me to a Memorial Day party at her house (along with other mutual friends from high school). Did I need to bring something, I asked? No, just myself.

My dad and my brother were both away during that weekend, though I don't remember where (they weren't together. My dad was with a girlfriend someplace and my brother was with friends). I had the house to myself for the entire weekend. The Indianapolis 500 was run on Saturday and was tape-delayed for the very first time on ABC. Previously, the Indy 500 was played back on Wide World of Sports as a summary/ highlight and not the full race. Anyway, it was supposed to be a watch party of the race. I didn't have a car at that time. But I did have a bicycle and she didn't live that far away from me.

There probably were things that I did around the house that were my "chores." I don't remember what they were, but I may have installed the two large window air conditioners since I was capable of doing that on my own and we were moving into the warm season. I do remember sitting out in the driveway on a lounge chair behind the house and it being a warm day. I had also decided that a nice cool enema might be just the thing after sitting out in the sun. So, I went upstairs, got the red open top bag, filled it in the utility sink and then hung it up in the basement bathroom to take later.

I was laying there reading a book when she pulled her car into the driveway: a big, black Desoto that her dad had given to her when she was in high school. It was a land yacht and I recognized it right away. I got up, wearing my Speedo style swimsuit, to greet her. She got out of the car and I barely recognized her. She was wearing these short-short style orange knit shorts and a v-neck striped top that emphasized her figure and most notably her breasts. In total, she lost 54 pounds over the year. She looked great!.

She saw me out on the driveway as she was on her way home and thought she'd stop (to be sure I was coming to the party). We chatted for a few minutes out on the driveway before I thought to ask her if she wanted some lemonade or some other soft drink. She told me yes, and when we got into the basement, she practically jumped me. She got me down on the floor and got on top of me while we were making out. I was thirsty, and I had her let me up so I could go get the drinks and bring them down to the basement. While I was upstairs in the kitchen, she went into the basement bathroom. I didn't realize it right away but I knew as I was coming down the stairs. There was that moment of panic about the enema bag hanging on the coat hook in the bathroom. I remember thinking "maybe she won't notice it." I knew better, though. So, I sat down and waited until she came out.

When she came out of the bathroom, she had stripped out of her clothes and was completely naked carrying the enema bag hooked over her right index finger saying "somebody's being a naughty boy." It was those Cadillac bumper bullet breast she had...(solid!) at the same level as the bag that I just couldn't take my eyes off. She found one of the hooks on the underside of the mantle over the basement fireplace and hung the bag and the nozzle. Then she came to me and stripped my swimsuit off me and we embraced and kissed. My cock was so hard and this was the first time we had ever seen each other naked, so we took the moments to take in each other before she stepped in such a way to have me get down on the carpeted basement floor again. More kissing and fondling.

Finally, she inserted the nozzle into my rectum, took my cock in her mouth and opened the clamp to allow the 2+ quarts flow into me. The bag drained with a loud gurgle and she asked if I could take more (of course I could). She got up, refilled the bag, brought it back and hung it up and slipped the nozzle back into me. She asked me how much I could take and I told her that I should be able to take the whole bag. This time she turned around to put us in a 69 position and sat down on my face while she took my cock in her mouth once again. She ground down on me as she came and I did have some trouble breathing when she sat straight up on my face. But I took the whole bag and actually held it for a few minutes. But I didn't cum. I let her know that I needed to get up and release the enema.

She did something that I did not expect. In addition to holding the nozzle in my ass as we walked to the bathroom, she followed me in. The basement toilet is a circular bowl rather than oblong and she had me turn to the right on the toilet bowl (not the seat) and then she got down on her knees between my legs and took my cock in her mouth while I expelled. I'd never even fantasized about this. It didn't take me long before I was cumming. My sperm went everywhere in addition to her mouth. It went in her mouth, on her face, in her hair, on her breasts. We were both 18 and I shot big loads back then.

It was the first time I cleaned up my cum from someone else, sucking it off her face, and her breasts and then the two of us sharing it between the two of us. She wiped the cum out of her hair with the hand towel, picked up her black panties and slipped them on and took her clothes out into the basement. She kept checking on me as I expelled the enema until I was mostly emptied. She helped wipe me clean and after some more kissing and embracing, she got dressed and said she need to get home. We made some plans for us to spend as much of the weekend together as we could. I did jokingly ask her if she treated her geriatric patients that way and she indignantly told me "no." I had hoped she would return for the 50th high school graduation. But I heard that she had some health problems and wasn't going to make it.

We were two kids from the enema era who found each other, if only for an afternoon, to enjoy some naked enema time together.

Unfortunately, her dad thwarted those plans as he suspected (correctly) that something was going on between the her and I. That got very nasty and ugly. In order to preserve some domestic tranquility, we put our weekend plans on hold. We never got together after that.

@Amene1111 the cool-water enema was the go-to for fever relief with my mom. She would fill me with a warm soapy one (I do mean fill!) to start with. This was the worst on and has to tale the full bag. This was to completely clean me out to make room.for the others. They were given 30 min apart with a rectal temp taken before the next one. After 6 enemas there would be an hour's space before the next rt. If no fever, the enemas would stop. & i would get another rt some timeblater

.I loved the relief from these cooling enemas (except for the first one as it was crampy & would make me poop my guts out.) I'm not sure why an enema would cure a fever butt I sure felt better after.

I still use cooling enemas during a fever but have to do them solo now.

I’ll chime-in on this topic, even though I wasn’t born until the early 60s, presumably when the Enema Golden Era was beginning to wind down. I was fortunate though, to have a mother who had been raised through the 40s and early 50s by an enema faithful grandmother. Mom lived with her grandmother from sixth grade through her college graduation at 22, and during that span of nearly twelve years, mom was tutored not only in how to give her grandmother good, high enemas, but she herself was expected to submit to weekly enemas. Many years after I was grown and had left home, I finally got the nerve to ask mom about the many enema treatments she had given me. That’s when she finally told me about living with her grandmother and being expected to give and receive enemas.

As I’ve shared elsewhere, I was given regular enemas by my mother while I was growing up from the age of two until just past my twelfth birthday. Initially, they were doctor prescribed for a colon disorder, but although I had grown out of that health problem by the time I was 6, the regular enemas continued. Mom just believed that giving me them was the right thing to do for my health, as she had been taught. By the time she started giving me larger bag enemas twice a week when I turned seven, they were largely given to me for no specific reason or health problems. Within a couple years of being given progressively larger enemas, by the time I turned nine I was starting to like everything about my frequent enemas and always looked forward to the three or four enemas I’d be given during my Sunday enema series.

All considered, although not living through the era, I certainly feel I benefited from the knowledge mom acquired from her grandmother during the 40-50s.

In the forties I think as women including my mother were given an enema prior to child birth. this induced a sexule fanticy. My mother in a professional way would explain that an enema was essential for good health. Often she talked about it as I saw in a nighty and could see her naked bottom. At age 10 my mother told me she needed to give me an enema. This probably started my fanticy. As she gave me the enema she explained how she had been given one and she enjoyed giving and receiving.I was not old enough at the time to fully realize sexual fanicies but it nice everytime I would see women's rear end.

If you’ve read my many posts about living on our grandparents farm in WV in the early 50s, you know that Tess and shared enemas together from when I was about 5YO and Tess 7YO until puberty. I’m now 76, Tess is 78!

I talked with Tess over the weekend and we talked about memories from our years on our grandparents farm during hard times in the 50s when we were all living in the big old farmhouse.

Enemas were a way of life then, if mom wasn’t giving someone an enema our grandmother was. It seemed that no more than two or three weeks passed without one of us kids getting an enema! One thing Tess remembered was when Diane, the oldest of our two younger sisters first graduated from the bulb to the hose at around 5 YO. I must have out playing in the barn, where I had a big Lionel train layout so I missed it, Tess told me about it later.

As we almost always got to surreptitiously watch when someone got an enema, seeing Diane about to get her first enema from the red bag was a memorable event for Tess! When we watched, It was easy to see everything. There was a full length mirror on the back of the door on the other side of the room, we crouched down on the porch roof next to the bathroom window to watch and listen.

I wasn’t there to see Diane’s first bag enema but Tess told me all about it. As usual Diane objected to it, and when mom inserted the nozzle and started the water Diane started hollering for mom to stop. After the enema was finished Tess said “Diane told mom it was easier than other way”. Mom seemed puzzled and asked why? Tess said she remembered Diane saying “the other way you put in my butt over and over, but this way it only gets put in once".

For about a year after Diane’s first hose enema, Robin’s (our youngest sister) enemas were still with what we called “the red squeeze enema”. Tess asked me If I remembered Robin’s first hose enema since she knew that we both watched. Robin’s first hose enema was about a year or so after Diane’s, but this one I got to watch. The events were about the same as our enemas, nothing changed except the amount of water in the bag. We took our pants or dress and undies off and put them on the clothes hamper while mom ran water, used the measuring cup to put water in the bag, squirt a little into the sink, put the hose in the top of the bag, hung it on the hook next to the window, sat down on the window seat (there was a window seat in every room except the kitchen) put the recipient across her lap, take the hose from the bag, lube it with Vaseline, insert the nozzle, reach for the metal clamp and CLICK you’re getting an enema! So Robin got her first hose Enema. After it was over I’m pretty sure mom said “that wasn’t too bad was it”? Robin’s answer surprised us. She said “It’s easier the other way, only a little bit of water goes in every time you put it in my butt, can we do it with the squeeze thing the next time”?

Perhaps a month later when Robin was about to get another enema both Tess and I hurried to the roof to watch from outside the window, wondering how Robin was going to accept her second hose enema if mom didn’t use the syringe on Robin. Mom fixed the bag enema and this time, the events were the same but Robin asked mom to use the “squeeze one” mom told Robin she was only going to give her a little bit of water at a time. Tess and I looked at each other, puzzled. Mom took the hose, lubed it, inserted it and click then a few seconds click, pause, click, pause, click and so on until Robin got the whole enema! Robin seemed OK now getting enemas with the hose.

As for the first enema I remember it was from a serious nurse at 5 YO in hospital for tonsillectomy, mom and I got there just after lunch, they had me put on what I thought was a girls gown, not happy, I was put in a bed in a room with one other boy about the same age. Mom stayed until after dinner, nothing to eat. Not long after she left, the nurse came in with a cart with a white can, red hose, and a black pipe. Never had experience with these things, I watched her put the hose on the can, put a metal snap thing on the hose, put the pipe on the hose, run water into the can, then she hangs the can on a pole on my bed. Now I’m curious as she tears open a packet and rubs something on the pipe. Next I’m rolled onto my side and she starts putting it in my butt. I FREAKED! The pipe slid in, ok, this doesn’t hurt, then CLICK! Not bad feels warm, kind of nice but soon I GOTTA GO, AND RIGHT NOW! Water finally stops, I’m placed on a bed pan, tried to hold it, no way it’s coming out now! So now I’m thinking about the events so far, it wasn’t bad. I may not have realized it at the time but I was hooked!

Not much more that night except blood pressure, a shot, and before going to sleep a rectal temp. Morning, mom shows up, still no food but promises of ice cream after the operation. I’m put on a table with wheels and we go to a room with lots of lights and masked people. I’m moved to another table and someone puts a mask on me, bad smell, not happy, I went ballistic! People holding my arms and legs, I wake up in a room with mom and another boy and his mom. Can’t talk, throat hurts. I did get all the ice cream I wanted, but no more enemas. I told Tess about the ordeal with the can and hose, her response was something like “so you got an enema, I saw mom give you enemas when you were little with the red squeeze thing in your butt”. At the time Tess thought herself as an expert, she said "I like it when mom gives me enemas with the hose”. My next enema was a few months later from mom with the red bag and hose. I like it too! After that Tess showed me different ways to give each other enemas, including a small garden hose with no fitting out behind the barn.

Good old Tess @LostInThe50s. How I would have loved to have had a Tess in my life back then.

@easy123

I called Tess yesterday we talked for a while Tess said that she was having some stomach issues for a day or two and that brought back memories, she told me about an event shortly after we moved to Philadelphia when mom was dealing with her having an upset stomach and was suggesting a laxative which mom hasn't suggested since we lived on the farm.

Tess told mom that she'd prefer to have an enema instead, she said mom asked her if she was sure because once the enema was ready there was no changing her mind. Tess remembers telling mom "with the laxative I have cramps and diarrhea for 2 days with an enema it's over in 5 minutes. So I went to my room, removed my pants and undies, mom came in with the enema, rubber sheet, bath towel, I laid on the bed, mom inserted the nozzle, raised the bag and started the enema. I had mom stop the enema just a little over half way and got a second enema". Both Tess and I used that ploy or not waiting the full 5 minutes hold , not every time but on occasion to get another one. I don't remember that event so I must have been out somewhere. She remembers mom telling her"if you took the laxative you wouldn't have had to take the second enema. You must have been really been plugged up". Tess told me "let me think, laxative or two enemas"?

LostInThe50s

Another good one @LostInThe50s. As your memories and chats with Tess continue and you post them I will read them with great pleasure. Sure wish I could offer some in return but I had an entirely different life experience.

One of reasons I enjoy reading through the various topics and their posts is how it jogs my memory.

For instance, 2 or 3 pages of douche and enema bags in the thick Sears Roebuck catalog. Apparently Wards catalogs had similar content. And mention of the vast amount of products on display in a drugstore. We lived in a small, Pennsylvania college/farming town. We had 2 or 3 drugstores. I still vividly remember the day after Mom gave me first enema series from her bag. Mom took me to pick out an enema bulb. As we were checking out, we had a conversation with the clerk about my enemas the day before and my new bulb, that I couldn’t wait to get home because Mom was going to give me more enemas with it. Oh, to rehear that conversation again… She, the clerk, said something to the effect of have fun and tell me about the next time you’re here. A week later we were back and as Mom shopped, I told the clerk how much I loved my bulb enemas. She asked what I loved about them and I told her that I loved having the nozzle shoved into me so many times and how it felt when Mom squeezed the soap suds into me. Several times after that, while shopping with Mom, that lady and I talked about enemas. The day finally came when Mom and I came in and told the clerk that it was time for a bulb with more capacity and that she thought I was ready for a douche bulb. The two of them discussed that topic and the clerk mentioned how her kids loved it when she transitioned them to a douche bulb because they loved the much thicker nozzle. The following week, when Mom and I were back, as Mom shopped, the clerk and I had a nice conversation about how good my new douche bulb was for my SSEs. Sigh…

Something else… There seems to be two groups of us. Both groups saw enema stuff in our classmates/friends homes. In one group, enemas were discussed. Not so in the other group. Both groups knew we were getting enemas, at least in homes where there were bags hanging from shower curtain rods or from a hook a the back of a bathroom door. But, there remained families that didn’t use enemas. As I’ve posted elsewhere, most neighbors knew Mom was a nurse, and some non-enema moms contacted Mom for instructions. I was lucky enough to be Mom’s demonstration tool and got lots of enemas because of it, as well as watching other kids (especially females) get enemas.

Another item I forgot to mention in other posts is that when I needed to have a T&A, Mom gave me enemas before taking me to get admitted. Well, hospital regulations required enemas before my surgery, so, I got another very soapy enema. Of course, it returned totally clear, but protocol required me to get two rinse enemas, which the nurses enjoyed giving while complimenting Mom on how effective her enemas had been. Of course, I simply enjoyed getting two more enemas!

Hey, it was the ‘50s! We didn’t have emergency care places everywhere along with the health insurance and mindset we have now. People took care of things at home. If I was home from school sick, Mom gave me a series of 5 enemas in the morning - 3 SSEs and two rinses. Then I could nap or watch TV. At 3, I got another strong SSE and. Rinse and at bathtime, 2 strong SSEs and another rinse before bedtime. This routine continued until I went back to school, even over a weekend. But I loved all of the enemas and never protested. If anything, if early in the week, I feigned for one more day home.

These days, I never go more than one day without enemas. Not “an enema. “ Enemas! One is NEVER enough!

Enema in the 50's / 60's was as commonplace as kids having cell phones today.

I was a child in the 1950's. My father would take me into the bathroom, have me lie

down on the floor, and insert a small enema nozzle into my anis.

I was embarrassed when my small cock started growing---felt good though!

I began seeing a naturopathic doctor for primary care several years ago before COVID, and I’m very happy with her. My husband is also seeing her now.

Not like the old days of the 1940s and 50s, but it’s also not that unusual if a patient is ill and in bed and irregular for a length of time, she will prescribe an enema.

My enjoyment started at 5YO while in hospital for tonsillectomy. I told my older sister Tess about it her response was "so you got an enema, I helped mom give you enemas with the "red squeeze thing" in your butt when you were little, I filled it while mom held you down, and I get enemas with the red bag and hose now. Tess was already taking enemas by herself as we lived on a farm up until about 1960 to 1962.

Talked with Tess last night, she asked if I remembered the Saturday we decided to increase the amount of water in our enemas. We knew how much water we got only when we got an enema from mom. When Tess and I gave each other enemas at the creek or out behind the barn we had no way to measure the amount of water, usually we filled until the recipient couldn't take anymore, we may have been taking more than we got from mom.

I didn't remember all of the details but I do remember some, I was 8YO and Tess was 10. It was one of those Saturdays when dad, mom, grandma, Diane and Robin all went into town and were always gone for most of the day. Grandpap was out in the fields and we had the house to ourselves. Tess said that she was ready to try taking 2 quarts as up until now mom gave her 1.5 quarts, and I was getting 1 quart and would I try 1.5 quarts. Tess got the bag out and proceeded to fill it saying "you go first". I took my pants and undies off using mom's 16oz measuring cup she put three cups in the bag, hanging it on the hook next to the window, I knelt on the floor resting my arms on the window seat, Tess put vaseline on the nozzle, inserted it, asked "you ready"? Ok, and CLICK it started, remember this was around 1958 and enema shutoffs had only two settings, on or off. I do remember getting a little anxious near the end, but I made it! My first measured 1.5 quart enema. As for holding it, not happening! Tess pulled the nozzle out, I made the toilet in one leap!

I finished and now it was her turn. I fixed her enema with 2 quarts, as she took her pants and panties off, saying "that looks like a lot of water" I hung the bag, she knelt on the floor resting on the window seat, nozzle inserted, "are you ready"? "Go, I'm ready"! I opened the shutoff Tess sort of groaned as she always did during an enema, occasionally looking up at the bag, soon the gurggle and the enema was done. Tess pulled the nozzle out herself and jumped to the toilet. After she finished we talked about how it felt both of us agreeing to stick with the amount mom gives us. We continued on with two or three more enemas before cleaning up and going out to find grandpap. I do remember that day, not with the details Tess remembers, but for the next few years before we moved to Philly Tess and I shared many memorable days on grandpap's farm!

I remember growing up in the 40's and 50's and enemas were a part of my bathroom life. It was easy because there was usually a red bag hanging in the shower and a bulb syringe in the cabinet under the sink. Such fun. I sure enjoyed my showers or baths. My two cousins enjoyed them too. We sneaked off whenever we could and gave each other enemas. Then we all moved apart. Sigh. Bummer.

I wanted to have enema sessions with girls I dated but never could seem to find a way to broach the subject. Girls were more reluctant then to discuss such matters.

Now I live in a small town and it seems like a wasteland. No one around here interested. I search Zity ads but no one even close. Oh well.

I couldn't find a group specific to this situation so this seems a good fit.

Over the weekend I picked up a classic Monopoly game at a yard sale and told Tess about it. That opened up another discussion with Tess about life on our grandparents farm in the 1950s.

Tess: We were at our neighbor's farm for the annual fresh corn and pig roast. We finished eating, the adults were on the huge back porch talking about everything, and us kids including you, me, Diane, Robin, and aunt Becky's twins Joyce and Jenny, were in the game room playing Monopoly as usual. I think it was our sister Diane who was running out of money asked "does anyone want the Water Works?" Giggling, Jenny said "Joyce got the water works last night! Joyce proclaimed "I did not"! Several comments were made about getting the "water works" and Jenny said "you came running out of our bedroom with no pants on and mom behind you with the enema thing".

Tess: "I think it was the summer of 1956 I'm not sure but if the year is right I was 10 and you were 8. The twins were older than you so they were about 9".

Sorry Marty, I don't remember how it ended but I do remember Joyce saying something like "everybody gets enemas, and you get them too, so it's no big deal! That's not the first time comments were made about the "water Works" while playing Monopoly! I do remember it but not in as much detail as Tess.

Wonderful memories from our younger days in the 1950s!

Yeah, that hushed talk was real—except no one ever owned up. It was always 'my cousin had one' or 'I heard Tommy's mom does that.' Never ourselves. Mom fetched the red bag from the hallway closet—always in its crisp box—then hooked it on the towel rod like a warning. The smell of Ivory soap drifting through warm rubber hit first. I'd kneel on the towel, head low, butt up—six, seven times a year, each one a full-blown ordeal. Water rushing in, elbows burning, counting breaths till she released the clamp. The run. The silence. And Sunday morning, suddenly… clear. Like I'd been rinsed of the week. Almost wish I'd told one kid—just one—'yeah, that happened to me too.' But nah. Too mortifying.