Moms and Enemas

Do you think your mom enjoyed giving you enemas and gave them to your father?

Mom and Dad split up when I was quite young. I believe that she did enjoy giving us enemas. (because we got so many, lol) We remained healthy, when our friends were sick. I firmly believe that the numerous enemas had something to do with it.

Oh yes. I'm sure she did.

Well I don't really know whether my mother "enjoyed" administering enemas to family members. .maybe she did, but being a lady (that she was) never let on about it !!...mmmm !....I suspect she may have enjoyed a "Good" (predominately hot & soapy) cleanout for whatever reason & certainly had an enviable choice of equipment at her disposal to accomplish same . . .This interesting array of certifiably anal pleasures I was to discover over a period of time & to my never ending wonderment /delight . .mmmmmm ! So I guess that alone in hindsight makes one wonder !!! ...

It would be remiss of me not to mention that again as a child I had become accustomed to items of medical paraphernalia around the family home, so from my perspective that had become the norm & so left an indelible imprint on me which was to blossom as time progressed, geez did it ever ! . .Whenever one heard (namely me) the word "Enema" mentioned, not only did it grab your attention virtually immediately but there was every likelihood that one lurked not too far away for someone..

The very sight of that big (well to a youngster 2 quarts looked pretty big) white porcelain enamel douche can adorned with a 6 foot long smooth rubber hose coupled to either a black Bakelite / Vulcanite nozzle and or pre-primed tube depending on purpose. .That all to distinctive smell of very warm soapsuds wafting through the air that seemingly only enemas emanated, the weight of its contents & purpose obvious to all would momentarily make the heart skip a beat, awaiting ones inescapable fate so to speak. . .Who was going to get it ?? never knowing when your number was up. . .aaaah ! those times of Mothers & Enemas deeply etched into ones memory.

Funnily enough the variety of Enema related items secreted around the family home could or would suggest to some that this was generally the acceptable standard as to being the most effective method of addressing both childhood illness (numerable that one) & to what I consider possibly adult issues when it came to supposed health management. . .Yep, it certainly had that uncanny knack of appearing at any given time without warning, though mothers (come wives) were very adept at lulling one into a false sense of security at times when it came to Enema time & so took care of that too with consummate ease !!

However like so many have acknowledged amongst their posts,she was most assuredly an accomplished administrator & advocate of the "Good" enema & when the time came, as it often did. . Yep you always got a very "Good" ENEMA--- Maybe not always a welcome sight & greeted with anxious glee, but either way it all turned out well in the end. .And no, my father was not to escape her wily ways but that folks is another story.

I don't believe that yesterday's moms are so much different from today's moms. So I think that the mothers here, if willing, could give the most reliable answer.

Good question, but with us 3 kids, she had to have given enough of them. Overall, I think my mom really enjoyed being a mom and that includes all of the sundry duties that it entailed.

I never thought much about whether she enjoyed giving us kids enemas. We got plenty of them and sometimes we weren't very cooperative. All in all, we always got through the process and maybe even enjoyed some of those more gentle warm enemas. I suppose that attitudes on our part as well as hers, were affected by the circumstances that precipitated an enema. At times when they seemed rather inconvenient, or when underlying symptoms were extreme, the enema process wasn't so pleasant for her or the recipient.

I know that she self indulged and that my dad got his share of enemas. I was into my teens when I discovered various books, mags, and toys that were an obvious part of my parents sexual repertoire. Because of the propensity to use enemas for most maladies, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that there was some pleasurable aspect to their indulgences.

I had discovered the pleasurable aspect at a very young age and must assume that others also made similar discovery and would indulge as I did. That's not to say that I didn't believe for a long time, that my love of the red bag wasn't most unusual and weird. It wasn't until I was in my later teens that Penthouse and other media brought such things to my attention and the guilt diminished.

In hindsight, the number of rubber goods for enemas and feminine hygiene, is pretty good confirmation that such procedures provided a great deal of therapeutic relief. Maybe even a good orgasm or two was a result. By the time I was an adult, I surely had taken somewhere near a thousand enemas and most always enjoyed the outcum!

My Mom did not use enemas herself but she did do a good job on us. I was always comfortable getting them from her except the time she put the nozzle in released the water and nothing happened. She pulled the nozzle out and it was covered and plugged with mud. My rectum was packed which was the reason for the enema. After cleaning the nozzle she reinstalled it but turned the water on as soon at the nozzle hit my anus. All went well and I was cleaned out to her satisfaction after at least 4 enemas. A good time was had by all.

Well, let's put it this way. My mom certainly didn't mind giving enemas.

Not only did my mom not mind giving us enemas, but she insisted on it!

My mother, at first, did not seem to mind giving me my enemas. She started out by using a small red bulb syringe with a black nozzle. Then around age five or six she switched to using the family combination syringe. I don't know exactly why mother changed her belief in enemas, but she did. At around age 8, I got real tired of Mom giving me laxatives and I asked her to please give me an enema. She put it off and off, but finally one Saturday morning she relented and did give me one. She let me know in many ways that she did not like doing that to me. I persisted to ask her for enemas when I needed them and she against her better judgment did give them to me.

I had to think about this one for awhile and decided that, yes, mom did enjoy administering the enemas in our family. It was her job to make sure our bowels functioned properly, and she took that job seriously. For us kids, it was always very matter-of-fact that a "good" enema was required for just about any illness, for sitting on the toilet too long without going, for passing offensive gas, and even for no reason other than it had been awhile since the last one and the equipment was out and handy after being used on someone else. I recall her constantly talking throughout the procedure about how good I was going to feel after the enema, how important it was to have a good enema and how I needed to hold it in tightly because I needed just a little more. It became a special "alone" time with mom, who taught me how to relax and accept the water, and of course I would cooperate fully so she would be pleased and praise me for taking a good enema for her. There was never anything sexual about the enema (except what was going on in my mind).

With dad it may have been a little different. Mom and dad would administer to each other and as I got older suspected a little more than just bowel cleansing was going on behind the locked bathroom door. Their enemas seemed to be rather lengthy affairs with smiles and embraces afterwards.

Much later in life, I realized that mom did enjoy giving me enemas. She tried to conceal it, but her demeanor gave it away. I'm sure it turned her on.

Mom enjoyed giving to the children and giving and receiving from Dad.

Mom gave us children a few enemas when we were little. She'd put us over her knees and use a red bulb syringe to administer the ivory soap solution. I doubt she enjoyed giving us the enemas. We did not receive any after we reached school age. I think she gave us the enemas because it was the "wisdom" of the forties, and she was being dutiful.

My mom gave them to me and my bro for any and all illnesses, In fact I think I got as many enemas as aspirins growing up. But there was always a perceived medical reason. She grew up believing in them also. But I don't think she really "enjoyed" giving them to us, it was just something she saw a being a good mother. And yes she gave the occasional enema to dad. I could hear them in the bathroom after I was put to bed. But it was usually after he had been complaining of some stomach ailment. When I was 17 she suggested an enema when I had the flu. While I offered the usual weak protest, she said "You're not to old to take an enema. Your dad still takes them". That was the last enema she gave me.

I got them for everything including punishment

I think both my parents enjoyed giving me enemas. They certainly gave them to me often enough when I was young and seemed to like doing it. They were always gentle and loving and I was happy but the enemas were more for their enjoyment than any health necessity for me. My Dad was probably the leader but Mom certainly participated eagerly.

Mmmmmm, this is a difficult question for me because my Mom was certainly one to give her children enemas and without any hesitation. In fact for several years it was a Sunday night ritual, "getting ready for the week", for her to prepare that red bag solution. Right after I had bathed and gotten ready for bed she would escort me into the bathroom, sit down in an armless chair, have me lay across her lap and then she would give me an enema. I had learned early on not to struggle or complain too for she did not care to deal with that whatsoever. A few hard swats on my bared butt was certainly not my preference at that time! As to whether she enjoyed this I am not sure for she truly believed in the benefits of enemas and my brothers and sister got them too. It simply was a "part of our household" and you accepted it. Of course when I became a teenager Mom did not give me a "weekly" but if you became ill, your age did not matter whatsoever and she gave you an enema. She gave me my last one at the age of 18 just before I left to attend college. Looking back now I think these moments with my caring, loving and diligent Mother are more appreciated. Of course I have now discovered that enemas can become a highly enjoyable and erotic sharing for two people. There certainly is something to this "sharing" for sure!!

I guess it is likely that Mom gave my dad enemas, but I'll never know. Enemas were a preferred remedy when I was growing up and I know for a fact that my brother and I both got a few along the way. Mom made no secret about taking them what I now recall as some frequency. Just like my husband and I have been discreet about our giving enemas to one another it is not beyond possibility that my mom and dad were the same way.

keithw 4 wrote: ... both my parents enjoyed giving me enemas. They certainly gave them to me often enough when I was young and seemed to like doing it. They were always gentle and loving and I was happy but the enemas were more for their enjoyment than any health necessity for me ...

keithw 4, I find your statements very interesting and I'd love hearing from you what specific ways of doing and expressing of your parents made you realize their enjoyment in giving you enemas.

I never got them growing up I wish I had tho

My Mom was the only enema giver in our house. I do think that she enjoyed giving us enemas, as we seemed to have received them for no reason. As far as Mom taking enemas, I really do not know, but have to think that she probably enjoyed them as much as we have come to enjoy them.

The enema word came up more than once amongst my aunts and grandmother, so the bag was not a strange item in their house.

Ah yes our mother definitely enjoyed it. I didn't get them too often but my brothers always did, Like once a week or something. My Mom did seem to enjoy it. If our own son needs one now, his father is usually the one to take care of it if hes around.

Claudia wrote: keithw 4, I find your statements very interesting and I'd love hearing from you what specific ways of doing and expressing of your parents made you realize their enjoyment in giving you enemas.

Claudia, I remember overhearing my parents discussing giving me an enema several times when I was a young child. The discussion was always short and the conclusion obvious (and welcome to me). I'm sure I didn't need an enema most times but I never objected. For reference, this was in the 1940s.

I wasn't aware of my parents taking enemas themselves when I was growing up but I now realize they did. I am pretty sure my father was hooked on enemas and suspect my mother rather liked them too. Here are some of my thoughts:

When my parents gave me my first enema (I was four or five) they already had an enema bag. Daddy got it from their bedroom and I watched him prepare my enema. The bag needed no assembly, just filling. The black, bat-shaped enema nozzle was already attached and I remember seeing holes in the jar of cold cream where the nozzle had been stuck in before. Since the enema bag had never been used on me and since I had no siblings, it must have been used by my parents themselves.

My father was rather excited when he told me I was going to get an enema and I believe it was because he was looking forward to giving me the enema. As he was preparing the enema bag, I remember him telling me something like "You'll enjoy this enema" or "This enema will feel good."

Mother inserted the enema nozzle into me and always did it gently and expertly. I'm certain it was not the first time she'd done it and she seemed to enjoy doing it.

I never heard or saw them doing enemas themselves, but I do recall occasions when I was surprised to discover the enema bag in the bathroom hanging from the shower rod or a towel rack. It was often there for a while after one of my own enemas but it was also there plenty of times when I'd not gotten an enema.

She certainly didn't mind giving me my weekly enema session. We talked about many things, about growing up and stuff. She did not hasten me through the process. I'm pretty sure she enjoyed doing it. I don't know if it was erotic for her, or she just enjoyed taking care of her son. I have no idea if she ever gave Dad any.

I don't know if she enjoyed it but she sure gave a good one. I don't know if she gave them to my father.

Yup... I'm quite sure my mom enjoyed administering enemas. I sure got plenty!

Clearly she DID give them to my father, it started while they were teenagers, and just getting really attracted to each other.

As far as with me, I was 3 when she left, so there were not but so many opportunities.

She got a lot of enemas, probably too many, from her mom, her grandmother and her aunt. Some of them fairly dangerous. I'm told some of them at least were scary.

What parts she enjoyed and didn't is pure speculation.

My dad was a WW-II vet whose guts were severely damaged early in the war. He should have died, but was just too tough and fought death for over 6 months. After escaping the hospital with a modicum of health, he was discharged 6 months after. On returning home, he looked normal and acted normal. This also spoke of his superior constitution that gave him the edge to survive. He became desperate to somehow return to the war effort and went to the West Coast USA ship building yards near San Francisco California. This is where he found my mother and how I eventually came to be. From what I have said, you can imagine the attention to enemas and the skills my mother learned. With all of this she became an enthusiast with the pride of a queen. My earliest remembrances, the very earliest are with her after dad was gone to work. We milked 10 to 20 cows morning and night. He also worked a full time job as a machinist in-between. Mom would talk to me about it and ask to be allowed to experiment. I think his stature, harsh aggressive disposition left her at a loss in being able communicate much in marriage. She wanted to please in that she felt he had rescued her into a life with meaning and destiny. When I had learned to be conversive, I suspect she hit on the idea of really developing something that would please and intrigue him. She Could not drive, no telephone, and nearest neighbors were way off across the fields and pastures of alfalfa and clover. I then found my interest set on these experiments and learning the system. We would work together with each step being discussed and adjusted for comfort and pampering. It made me a scientist at the age of 4 I think. It also made me erotic to the uttermost. However I also understood the privacy of the matter and that dad needed this kept discretely inside the house (a mere shack really). I remember burying my face in her lap and breathing deeply. I had ways of asking without words. She would pet me and pull me in. I then learned to hide under her skirt. I would tell her my every thought, as that was what she was exploring. On Saturdays with me as the oldest, I had to take my two younger siblings out and find entertainment. Which was easily had and often involved helping them find themselves as well. They did not quickly appreciate my interest though and we mostly had real jobs that needed fulfilling anyway. This "OUT!" time lasted from after we had finished cleaning up breakfast, which started after the milking was done, till near 2 in the afternoon. I was called on to handle waste that she passed out the door and bring back the rinsed container. I knew mom was practicing the things we were developing together and was proud to be a part! So when us kids played house, as we called it, we would pick and cut, chop weeds into soups. Then when all was ceremoniously consumed I would help them with their personal needs, which they had to learn to appreciate. I knew that pleasure was at the top of the list and was content with what ever little bit they were happy to receive in the house playing ceremony. Then I hit on the idea of being the guinea pig I was for mom, so that they could learn and develop their own understanding, as I had. Mom had brought me to the point of helping her to know personally what went well with things in my little hands. This worked well for them and in a little while they were wanting me to serve them. Soon the problem was who was to be first, and what was fun. What I thought should be fun was not always the case, so just like mom, I was learning from them now. But it was only touching and fiddling around. The real thing of getting an enema pampering was reserved as mom's superior domain as with real food preparation, of course! When they were brought into the treatment time, I wanted to be the know it all. So mom stressed the delicacy of proper administration and allowed me to watch and clean. This lesson served well in life as I became very aware of the need for cleanliness. Then when they were well taken care of and happily resting, she would discuss it all with me and ask me to prepare my treatment for her to receive. I then understood the importance of watching and learning to pleasure. The next day or two she would call me aside for my private lesson and stressed the importance of talking it all through so that she understood better what worked well. This way she helped me to care for the others as my own best satisfaction in being able to sense their comfort. To this day, my partners comfort leads to my comfort.