Enemas growing up from Mothers and Aunts

As a child, I received many enemas from many people... in my family, from my mother, my stepmother, my aunt (my mother's sister), and my grandmother.

I don't remember much about my mother's, as she disappeared when I was 5 years old.

My aunt and grandmother gave me a few enemas, replacing my mother, and my aunt taught my stepmother after she joined our family. After that, I received my enemas from her, with my aunt and grandmother replacing my stepmother only on a few occasions, such as when my stepmother was busy or travelling.

My stepsister (eight years older than me) left home when I was ten and never gave me an enema, but I remember that she sometimes watched with curiosity.

At first, I was very young and didn't care, but as I grew older, her presence bothered me. My stepmother noticed this and stopped letting her daughter watch.

As a teenager, mostly from my stepmother, sometimes from my grandmother.

The enemas that I remember starting about 5 or 6 were mostly from my mom with a few from my maternal grandma. I suppose it was her who taught my mother about enemas.

My mother gave me my first enema, and I remember it like a bad dream. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I wasn't even seven yet. I was sitting quietly on the potty, doing my dirty business. I didn't seem to have any health or bowel problems, but for some reason she offered me an enema, not understanding why I agreed (she was a nurse, after all). I don't remember the exact details of how it all started, but for some reason she used an entire Soviet-era heating pad instead of a syringe. The rest I just want to forget. My stomach was bursting with pain, the spasms were getting worse. It felt like I was being cut from the inside. My mother told me to push harder. Long story short, I didn't like it at all. It was my second enema. My mother also gave me my first enema, but I barely remember that one. I only remember it happening in a basin in the middle of the room. I was even younger. She used a large enema again. And my older sister was nearby, watching. I don't know why she ended up there. She was probably seven or nine years old at the time. But I remember it wasn't very pleasant either.

Something I forgot to mention in my post a couple days ago was being used for enema demonstrations.

One day Mom and I were visiting her cousin, Connie whose daughter Sally needed an enema series but was afraid of getting an enema. I was 7 and Sally was 5. Connie told Sally that I, Danny, loved enemas. Sally was still apprehensive. Mom said, “Danny, how about letting Connie give you some enemas so Sally can see how much you love them?” I eagerly agreed!

Soon we in the bathroom and Mom prepared the enema bag as Connie undressed me. Mom hung the bah with hoy, soapy water from the shower curtain rod as I crawled over Connie’s lap. Sally watched as her mom lubed my anus, then worked the nozzle into me. I’d never seen a nozzle like this one before. It wasn’t plastic. Instead, it was a red rubber hose with eyelets at the tip. Mom told me it was a colon tube and was good because it could be worked past the rectum into the large intestine.

Connie worked the tube into me until she, and I, felt resistance. The tip of the tube was at the end of my rectum. Then I heard the clamp snap open and felt as rush as the flow started. After about half a minute, Connie said, “Danny, I’m going to work the tube further inside you.” “Okay,” I replied. “Oh, that feels so good,” I gasped. Soon I’d taken a quart and laid across Connie’s lap as she twisted the tube and pulled it in and out a few inches. I knew this was to help swirl the enema around inside me.

Of course, I had to retain the enema and watched as the egg timer was drained twice, indicating that I’d held my enema for 6 minutes, after the bag had gurgled empty. Connie withdrew the tube and I rushed to the toilet to expel. During my retention, the coin focused on how I was enjoying my enema and what Sally thought about it. She was coming around to the idea of getting an enema. Mom suggested that I get one more hot SSE and that we could see how much further I could take the tube and that she’d fill the bag, a whole two quarts, and see how much I could take, and since I was going for high volume, I wouldn’t need to retain it any longer than I wanted to. Of course, I knew it was best to retain any enema as long as possible, so it would do its work. Besides, I saw retention time as a challenge.

I took over 3 quarters the bag and held it just over 2 minutes. As I expelled, Sally agreed to an enema. Her first one was about 3 pints and she held it for 3 minutes. Remember, she was 2 years younger than me, she was a girl and it was her first enema. She loved it! Mom asked her what she was feeling and thinking during the process. Sally enjoyed the insertion of the nozzle, she really loved t rush as the hot, soapy water flowed into her, and then enjoyed the retention, as a quieter Tim to simply enjoy the warm fullness.

As Sally expelled, Mom gave me a repeat of my second enema, as she’d prepared more soap suds during Sally’s enema. In a jiffy, the bag was refilled, rehung and I was across Mom’s lap. Again, I took a lot. I occurred to me that Sally was still expelling, and inc she had really needed that enema, I was going to have to retain this one until Sally was done expelling, no matter how long that was going to take. Thankfully, I only had to retain for about 8 minutes. Mom also got that tube way up inside me!

I watched as Sally got two more SSEs. Then we each got a hot, plain water rinse. Sally was now hooked on enemas and I was proud to have had a role in teaching her how much fun enemas are! I asked Mom if she’d buy a colon tube for my enemas. She asked me what I liked about it. I told her it was thicker than the nozzles she used on me and I enjoyed how deeply it went in. Mom and Connie looked at each other and laughed.

This wasn’t the last time Mom used me as an enema demonstration tool. Though this was the late ‘50s and past of the Golden Age of enemas, there were moms out there who were not brought up with enemas. Everyone knew Mom was an RN and would call her for medical advice, both for them as well as for their kids. What was described above was repeated multiple times. Sometimes the mom came over alone and learned by watching Mom give me an enema, then the student mom took over for the rest of my series. But most of the time the other kid, or kids, were there watching me get my enemas in between them getting their. For us kids, it was our naughty little secret!

When I was six, grandma taught moms two preteen sister personally hygiene. Afterwards, using me and my brother as subjects. She taught the girls how to give children enemas. Taking me and the older of the two girls to the bathroom, she had her fix a one-quart soapy enema then hang it on the wall. Once that was done, my aunt undressed me and sat down, putting me across her lap. Once across her lap, her mom my grandmother, told her to put Vaseline all over her index finger, then slowly insert it in my anus as deep as she could for lubrication. Then, once in, to move her finger all around before replacing it with an adult rectal nozzle. As she held the nozzle in place, she opened the clip, starting the warm soapy water. Then her mom told her how to control the flow, by squeezing the hose when asked to slow down or stop the flow. Once the bag was empty, she had me hold the enema for five minutes, leaving the nozzle in place.

While I was expelling my soapy enema, my young aunt fixed a one-quart salt and baking soda rinse enema and hung it up. When I finished on the toilet, she had me lay back down across her lap. Once I was in position a second time, she gave me the rinse enema by repeating the steps she used during my soapy enema. When the bag was empty this time, she removed the nozzle, and I got up to relieve myself. Once I was up, grandma told her, to go get my brother and her younger sister. Then, get undressed and take a shower, while she waited for me to finish relieving myself. While my younger aunt was fixing a soapy enema. My older aunt got undressed and got in the shower. When the soapy enema was finished and hanging on the wall. The younger girl undressed herself, then my brother, putting him across her bare lap as she sat down. Once he was in position, grandma instructed her on the same steps her older sister used to give me a couple of enemas. By the time he was holding his soapy enema, I had finished and joined my aunt in the large dual head walk-in shower.

The next day was a repeat of the previous day, only this time the girls had to demonstrate to their mom, our grandmother, that they could give us enemas without any help. She watched both girls as they gave my brother and I a soapy followed by a rinse enema. Once the enemas were finished, the girls put us in the large walk-in dual head shower together, then got in to bathe us. Something that became routine at bath time until we reached double digits.

Afterwards, the girls were giving the job of doing our evening bath along with enemas, when mom or grandma told them too. It was routine, when the girls took us to the bathroom in the evening, that once they had undressed us. They got undressed, because they both got in the shower to bathe us and keep order. So, on evenings when they gave us enemas before putting us in the shower, like us, they were naked. Giving us enemas laying naked across their bare lap.

I liked certain enemas and hated the potato starch enemas. I got chronic diarrhea from receiving too many antibiotics and every morning for several weeks after waking up and having a loose stool, my mother would come with a small white sauce pan full of a thick white liquid which was potato starch. The first time I received that enema, I wanted to go expel it but mom told me it was medicine and I had to retain it. I didn't like that but mom checked carefully that I didn't expel it or she would give me another. I would have to lie on my left side on my bed knees drawn up and mom would put Vaseline on the nozzle of the white bulb syringe. She would fill it with the liquid and slowly insert it and slowly squeeze the bulb. The nozzle was short for the children's enema syringe and I would feel the warm thick enema flow through my anus. I hated not being allowed to expel it and tried refusing it but mom didn't give me breakfast until I gave in. I tried to squeeze my anus shut but the Vaselined nozzle easily penetrated my puckered little hole and the hated enema was injected. I felt violated yet the tip of the nozzle touched a very pleasurable spot inside and that plus the warm liquid passing over it started to cause me to have an erection each time hidden by my pyjama bottom. I couldn't understand why something that I hated so much caused me pleasure. I would masturbate to orgasm after mother finished syringing me and left. Later I started giving myself enemas to try to recreate the pleasant feelings I got from the daily morning enemas which continued for several weeks.