Hook on the wall.

Did anyone else grow up having a hook for an enema bag near the toilet? We had one and so did a lot of friends and relatives. I guess the "golden age" was really golden.

An old gas-light jet over the toilet did the trick.

When we bought our lake cottage a lot of its elements were let's just say rough. In the bathroom the closet and cupboard were built in place of knotty pine. On the wall just to the right of the toilet there was a screw rather than a hook. It was at just the right height for an enema bag if you were lying on the floor or a feminine syringe if seated on the toilet. We decided to leave it and during the couple of years that we've owned the cottage made good use of it. The cottage is about 85 years old so I'm thinking that many others have made similar use of it.

Not in our small bathroom. My grandparents had a hook between the commode and the bathtub that held their enema bag. Every time I looked at that big red syringe it was wet.

For my enemas the bag was either hung from the towel bar at the end of the tub or from the medicine cabinet knob. When drying the bag and hose was draped over the clothes rack above the tub. During a bath it looked down upon you, daring you to look up.

The bathroom door knob was my enema bag holder when I was a young child, as it was just about the right height, since I received all my enemas while lying on a towel on the bathroom floor. Whether the folks used this when taking enemas themselves, I have not a clue, as I never witnessed them giving themselves (or each other) enemas.

We had a nice chrome double hook right next to the toilet. You know the kind that has the big round hook above the small hook underneath. I think that the little hook was for hanging the bag and the big hook was for looping the hose over. Although the hook was high enough that you could hang the bag and the nozzle wouldn't touch the floor anyway.

Mom would hang her yellow travel bag out do dry for a few days after whatever use it was put to. It would always smell strongly of Massengel douche powder. As a kid, it was always kind of hard to try to take a leak while getting a hard on.

But Mom was a holder and always gave be enemas while holding that bag high in the air!

In my house, it was actually on the ceiling over the bed.

Our hook was a standard variety robe hook on the wall between the toilet and the tub. The family bag, a combination bag circa 1950's with a good assortment of bakelite nozzles, hung by a looped white shoelace with knots in strategic locations for appropriate bag height: high for bending over the toilet or kneeling in the tub, middle for bending over the side of the tub, and low for laying on towels on the floor. In my early years it never failed to give me butterflies being called into the bathroom and seeing the equipment hanging on that hook.

In my home there the tiled bathroom wall has a matching tile with the knob for a robe or an enema bag.

Also the previous owner put a hook about two feet above the tub which must have been for her douche needs. It is convenient that the tile hook allows the enema bag to be seen in the mirror as one sits on the toilet.

There were three hooks in our bathroom: One near the tub, one over the toilet and one on the back of the bathroom door. In addition, there was a smudge under the hook over the toilet where the wet bag had distorted the plasters. The amber latex bag lived on the back of the door and was seldom dry.

Years ago during a meeting of the local rose society, we would sometimes be invited to meet at the home of one of the members and take a look at their rose garden. The meeting stretched out longer than usual and soon members were needing to use the bathroom. Eventually I too paid a visit to the bathroom and there was a hook on the wall at just the right height for a feminine syringe to hang from just outside of the tub-shower enclosure. Being tall, I noticed a box on top of the cabinet in the bathroom which looked suspicious. A closer look showed it to be labeled as containing a Faultless combination syringe of 2.5 quart capacity. It seemed rather new and probably was being used by the daughter going to college and still living at home. A few months later we were invited to meet at the same home again and the daughter was still living with mom but this time looking very pregnant.

In my home growing up, the knob on the cupboard door was used to hang the bag.. Our bathroom today does not have a convenient hook, but we mostly take enemas on our bed, using an arm of the ceiling fan for connecting a hook and a decorative chain for height adjustment.

My house came with a master whirlpool bathtub, with an overhead skylight. In the recess, way up high, is a hook. My guess is that it was there for a hanging plant . If I'm on my back in the tub, I look up and see that singular hook. Many times I imagined using that hook to hang an enema bag and give myself one in the tub. But I never did.

Enter one observant and creative partner, who immediately saw the hook and put it to good use! Up went the bag! For all the times I imagined using that hook and didn't, I had to smile that we were of like mind.

Growing up we had a hook on the back of the bathroom door, but my mother preferred to use a hook for the shower curtain and had a piece of twine in a loop where one end was through the hanging hole on the enema bag and the other end would hang from that hook.

Our family enema bag lived on a hook on the back of the bathroom door, but when it was in use it hung from the shower curtain rod or the towel rack, depending on the position of the lucky recipient.

Mom was a plant fanatic, so we had brackets in every room, and they held the bag very nicely.

Back in the day, I worked in residential construction. A very common installation was a combination hook on the wall beside the toilet in the main bathroom. Could be used for robes or douche/enema bag.

There was a hook up high on the wall beside the toilet in my grandparents' bathroom, but whenever I was given an enema in there I was made to kneel in the bathtub with my head and chest on a towel, my bottom raised up, and the enema bag was hung from the handle of a window high on the wall above the tub.

The last time I was given an enema by my mother, it was at my grandmother's house. There was a small hook waist-high next to the sink that I must have noticed before but that had never registered. As my mother had no hesitation about hanging the bag from the hook as she asked me to lie down on the floor, I assume that was the hook's intended purpose. I was six at the time, so of course none of this occurred to me then. It's only now that I realize the hook had a clear purpose. But the hook always had a special meaning for me in subsequent visits to that house. A cousin lives in the house now. I wonder if the hook is still there and if he's figured out it's purpose………..

In my home now the hook has been replaced by an IV stand.

Our home had a small hook about three and a half feet above the floor, on the left side of the toilet. It was primarily used for toilet sitting enemas, and probably douching for my mother. I think I was about ten or so when my mother stopped with bed enemas and had me take them while sitting on the toilet. She supervised the enemas, I remember I having enemas like this until I was fifteen, when there was an event that made it very clear I was being sexually stimulated from enemas.

We didn't have a hook because mom kept the enema equipment in the bathroom closet, she used a metal coat hanger that she stretched out and hung over the shower rod which she hung the powder blue latex bag on i would sit on the toilet and lean forward and insert the nozzle while she observed. This was the procedure when is was older, maybe 10 to 13 years old

My grandmother stored her bag by hanging it from the clothes hook behind her bathroom door. One of my cherished childhood memories is walking in to her bedroom when I was five to discover her giving my teen- age uncle an enema . Grandma had hung the red combination bag from the top of one of the high posts at the foot of her bed while he lie on his stomach with the long, red hose draped down between his upturned cheeks.

Seeing my interest, Granma asked if I too wanted an enema. The prospect was enough to send me running from the room. Darn! how wish I could relive that scene differently.

We had one on wall by the toilet I shared with my parents and it was way up high. Many many times I used that enema hook in my youth doing quite large enemas as I got older when my parents were away. I used to fill the bag twice to get full, I took two fillings at once in HS, it was one of those old red rubber ones, and the toilet was close to the washbowl, right in front of the washbowl. So, I could fill up full, hold a washcloth over my asshole, and then jerk off into the sink.

I used to really blast out from my asshole and cum into the washbowl, huge loads. I started cuming at about 10. It was so hot and so was I. It's a good thing, I guess, sex was more repressed then, as a teen I would have been all over my friends. I would have really been a whore as a teen. I was horny 48 hours a day, used to have to jerk off at minimal 3 times a day, often more.

I've always been really charged-up when it comes to sex. I can remember that little hook by the toilet so well, that little brass hook and I were great friends in my youth at home, really great friends. I started enemas at about 6, not with that hook, I had a little hose rig I had made that I could stick up the faucet sink. I was little, just managed to get it over to the faucet, then set the tap water, and started the flow up my asshole. As I grew older I had to stand on the toilet lid to get the old red enema bag on the hook in the other bathroom, one filling and then the fun began, especially as I grew older into HS and was doing about 3 or 4 qts.! LOL!

There was a hook on the wall in our bathroom right next to the toilet. It was definitely used for enemas. Mom would bring in her 2 quart, green enema bag with a small, black nozzle. She would fill it with soapy water and lube the nozzle. I would be told to sit on the toilet and bend way over so she could insert the nozzle. Ah, memories, memories.

DEEP memory trigger- of my mother having our landlord's husband install a hook on the wall.

I was maybe six or so and it was used by my mom for what I had no idea at the time. The obvious connections between her pregnancy with my sister were not so obvious to me there and then.

Several years later in a new apartment I fondly recall the butterflies in my tummy at finding her bag. And it took most of my life to have some of those memories sorted out into chronological ordering let alone cause to effect associations.

Maybe it was? or not either way- the "First Hook" enciphered a memory of my locking myself in the bathroom apparently "in ghostly memory" to hide from some bowel treatment laxative-suppository or yes- even gasp- an enema. Dunno for sure and it's unlikely that mom will accurately recall let alone talk about such an event. I am quite calmly now in ownership of "most" memories about my later teen self-administered enemas.

And the several hooks I self-installed that were amusingly stealthed by things like Hairbrushes or soap-on-a rope.

Oh Yes, the hook! It was screwed into the window sill right next to the toilet. Many a bag hung there when I was left alone in the house. What memories!

I am in the midst of completely redoing my bathroom. The tub has been replaced with a 32 x 60 shower with 3 hand rails placed so I can hang bags at various heights.

Dan

The first hook is always remembered well, I think, forever. I recall the little brass hook by the toilet in my parent's bathroom very very vividly.

That hook, the old large red rubber enema bag, the red ribbed hose, the hard black nozzle and I were wonderful and great friends in my youth, and the little jar of Vaseline.

I had more fun in that bathroom on the toilet with that enema hook when my parents were away, more than I can remember. And many a time I plugged the toilet up with my many large expulsions. The hook was so high when little I use to have to stand on the toilet lid to get the old large red rubber enema bag onto the little brass hook and I had such a huge stiff hardon. It was a good bag, I think it must have been about 1.5 qts., possibly 2 qts. When young I got a good filling with part of the bag. In high school, I was filling it up twice for one enema. My fear use to be that the hole for the hook at the end of the bag would rip out, because I had the bag filled so full. It was the kind where the hose screwed into the bag, so sometimes I would lay the bag on the vanity and press on the bag hard, so it was not hanging from the hook. I've always liked a good strong enema up my ass, but not dangerous, I never overdo it.

I recall my dismay of having to stop and fill the bag up again under the tub nozzle, bent over, while tightly clenching my asshole so I did not blast out over the bathroom. Ha, I used to pick up the throw rugs, because a few dribbles always shot out. I can see me trying to explain the little brown spots on the bathroom rug. Anything on the linoleum floor cleaned up easily.

The windows in the lower portion of the bathroom by the toilet were frosted and faced a woods. Many times I would have liked to have been exposed to the world standing on the lid with the hose up my ass. Thinking back, it's a good thing they were frosted. I was born horny.

My Grandmother had a laundry room off the kitchen and an ironing table against the wall the hook for the enema bag was high above the table. Once a week I would be told at breakfast the I was going to get my enemas in a while. I would see the big red bag hanging from that hook and know what was next