Those magic words

"Into the bathroom RIGHT NOW, I'm going to give you an ENEMA" Don't you just adore those 12 magic words?

Tonight I am going to "borrow" that exact expression springing in on my husband when he would least expect it. I can't wait to see the expression on his face particularly when I tell him to get over my knee as I give him multiple insertions with a bulb type enema apparatus. I will trap his maleness between my inner thighs to make him stay in place and take his "medicine"!! Perhaps a spanking afterward would add to his "enjoyment" as well as mine!! Denise

The magic words that I love to hear are; "You've been moping around the house all day. Go, and prepare for an enema,,,,,, NOW."

Oh to hear those words again???😃

"I think a little enema will help you feel better." The familiar white can and bar of ivory came out with little discussion and arguing didn't work.

Wonderful words indeed. Should, imho, come after a blistering spanking but beautiful words indeed!

Sorry for not reporting on this earlier!! The expression on my husband's face was priceless when I firmly spoke those "magic" words in a very stern voice. Like the good little boy he sometimes is, he complied and got a good strong enema which was both fun and erotic for us both. I am expecting pay back sometime and if it does not happen soon, he will be subjected to the treatment again!! Than you for letting me borrow those magic words!! They really worked like magic!! Denise

I remember those words quite well. Sometimes mom would ask a question "Wes, do you need me to give you a good enema today?" Oddly enough there was no answer expected, but rather it was me being put on notice that I was about due for one of her famous cleanings out.

To Wes ..... those were my mom's words as well .......... only our first names were changed here and

I remember those words quite well. Sometimes mom would ask a question "Wes, do you need me to give you a good enema today?" Oddly enough there was no answer expected, but rather it was me being put on notice that I was about due for one of her famous cleanings out.

but then ....... from early on when the ' question was asked ' .......... I always responded ' in the affirmative ' which always brought a radiant smile on my mom's pretty face . ...... and in retrospect ..... mom asked that question of me often even into early adulthood and ......... well ........ I never refused .

Yes, those words were appropriate back then and still are today on a Play Date.

Especially when a bag is in view and I realize she means it for me.

All the while I’m thinking ‘and then it will be her turn’ and the bag will prevail.

Now a days I love those words but back when I was a child those words spoke dread to my heart. Always put up a fuss or fight when I was younger.

I still remember being told to go to the spare bedroom. When I saw the rubber pad on the bed I knew what was coming next, especially if I knew there had been a call to Dr office .

I got my enemas from my aunt as as a child and as a young boy. So the code word for an enema was "Your aunt is coming this afternoon", and I knew that she would be coming for giving me an enema.

She was visiting us almost daily for chatting with my mom, but when the visit was announced, that meant that she was coming for a different reason.

Mike, if you want this "enema" you had better come in here right now! If you don't, then I am going to take it down and if I do, I do NOT want to hear another word about you needing an "enema!" 1, 2, .....

For me, the magic words were, "I will give you a little water." That usually came after complaining of a stomach ache or if mom had determined I had not had a good poop in a few days. That usually meant a couple of squirts of warm water with the red bulb. At first I would whine and try to talk her out of it but it did not often work. Soon I decided I actually liked the feel of that warm water going into my little ass. So when she suggested that I needed "a little water" I was careful not to protest too much. I don't remember mom ever using the word enema directly to me. I made the connection one time when mom dropped me off at grandma's to babysit me while she went shopping. She said something like, "Johnny has been complaining of a tummy ache." "I think he is constipated." "Would you give him a small enema because I haven't had the time?" It wasn't long before grandma called me to the bathroom and said it is time for my enema. There was a red bulb sitting on the sink. That is when I realized "a little water" was an enema.

My mother was never as ' harsh ' as the title of this discussion depicts . She did announce her intention to ' give me an enema ' usually , during a childhood illness , about mid-morning , or early afternoon depending if I had had a morning bowel movement , where in a soft tone of voice she would state ........ ' In a little while I am going to give you a ' good little enema ' with the word ' enema ' always trailing off in almost a whisper . Waiting in bed for her return to my bedroom when ' all was ready ' was the very definition of ' anticipation ' in every sense of the word . My mother gave me enemas in our home from childhood through my exit to attend college as a young adult .

Just hearing the word "enema" is all the magic I need. Mom used the word frequently prior to, during, and after administering, telling me that I needed a good enema to clean me out, I'll feel so much better after the enema, that everyone needs an enema sometimes, that enemas are so good for you, asking me if the enema feels good as I expelled under her watchful eye, etc., etc. As I got older, I developed a connection between the word "enema", the warmth and pressure from a good filling, and an uncontrollable erection. And then came the first orgasm, hearing the word during a session. The rest is history.

Payback finally happened this past weekend (refer to my previous posts).

My husband and I attended our annual Christmas dinner party hosted by 6 close friends on a rotating basis. Both my husband and I dressed up as this annual occasion called for it. He wore tan slacks, a yellow button down oxford long sleeve shirt, his Christmas tie (purchased by me), and his navy blazer. Underneath, he had on his Christmas boxers (also purchased by me). Loafers and navy socks completed his wardrobe.

As for me, I wore my snug red skirt and a white Christmas sweater. Underneath, I was wearing the matching color powder blue bra, open bottom girdle with 6 garters, and lacey panties (all a birthday present from my husband). Sheer tan stockings and red high heels completed my wardrobe. For jewelry, I was wearing dangly Christmas bulb ear rings and a matching necklace.

The evening started off with a sparkling grape juice cocktail (non alcoholic). Following a large shrimp cocktail, a wonderful meal featuring the best prime rib I have ever had, was provided. I must admit I over indulged as everything was so delicious. Following dinner, Christmas Trivia and Charades were played. The finale for the evening was homemade pecan pie with ice cream before we left for home around 11 PM.

We stopped to pick up the mail from our mail box when we arrived home. My husband went to change his clothes while I opened a few Christmas cards that we had received.

In just a few minutes, my husband came out from our bedroom minus his tie and blazer and announced in a no nonsense voice “Into the bedroom NOW!! I am going to give you an enema you will not soon forget!!” I started to protest as I was so full, but he pointed to the bedroom saying “I mean NOW!!” I knew that I better comply right away or be in for a hard spanking as well as the enema.

As I entered the bedroom I spotted a bulging red enema bag hanging next to the bed and was told to lift my skirt above to my waist and lay face down on my tummy over the towel and pillow in the middle of the bed. He quickly took off my shoes and panties and raised the back of my girdle after undoing the back two garters exposing my upraised bottom in the air. He sat down beside me stroking my bottom saying that he had taken notice how much I had eaten and that I needed a good cleaning out.

I was amazed how his very much aroused maleness was pushing the front of his pants out awkwardly. Much to my delight, he got distracted and lowered his pants and boxers down to his knees and moved over on top of me between my legs that I slowly spread apart so that he could enter me from behind. With his hands under me and pulling down on my shoulders, he very slowly to entered “Miss Kitty”, going in and out methodically gradually picking up speed as he thrust deeper and deeper until almost simultaneously, we both exploded with both of us gasping for breath!! It was like being whipped over a very steep hill in the back seat of an extreme roller coaster!! Oh my gosh, it was the best we had in quite some time and it took several minutes before our heart rates came down and we caught our breath.

After we caught our breath, he said that he had not forgotten my enema and used our mutual body juices to lubricate me pushing his middle finger high up into my bottom causing me to squirm with added delight. He then pushed our inflatable nozzle into me working it in slowly. After inserting the nozzle all the way, he first pumped up first the inside balloon making me squirm even more with pleasure. The outside balloon was then pump up making a tight seal inside and out. He then pulled my girdle back down over my bottom and reattached the two loosened garters to the stockings. Then with a sharp smack on my tightly girdled buns, he asked if I was ready. I smiled and nodded yes.

With a click, I immediately feel the very warm water entering me and felt almost an immediate urge to run to the bathroom as the girdle was holding my stomach in tightly. His maleness had already quickly recovered and I reached out stroking “Mr. Pokey” milking him for whatever he had left to give, which was surprising a lot. Two and half quarts took quite some time to flow into me and I am sure the enema went high up into me. I was made to wait 15 minutes before being allowed to go the bathroom with the enema tube assembly still attached to me. Upon entering the bathroom, he deflated the nozzle pulling it out and left me to do my duty. I struggled to hastily pull down my girdle and quickly sat down. Then I experienced wave after wave of strong discharges until I finally felt emptied out completely.

When finally done, I took a shower and put on my sexiest night gown (minus the panties) and joined him in bed. Needless to say, we did not go immediately to sleep. Afterward, we got into a spoon position, he whispered into my ear, “tomorrow morning, you will be receiving another enema to thoroughly clean you out.” I smiled thinking he too would need a good cleaning and fell almost immediately to a deep sleep.

My mom’s magic words were, “it looks like I’m going to have to give you an enema.” They might come out of the blue, or if she though I was not feeling well. I learned the trigger words that would result in an enema, “I feel like l have to go but I can’t.”

I learned early on not to directly ask for an enema, that would result in being told she would decide if I needed an enema, said very sternly, although, thinking back, the couple of times I asked I did get one, but not until later or even the next day, because I was asked later if I was having trouble “going.” Of course I said I was.

So it was a game, if I played it right I got an enema. It was fun to hold back, because she kept track, and a missed movement was noted and an enema given. But even if I had gone, and I knew she knew, my trigger phrase almost always worked.

Enemas were almost always when my dad was at work, only a very few time would I get them when he was home, and mom always told me it was our little secret, with the exception of the neighbor and her daughter. Both our mother’s really enjoyed giving us enemas.

My grandmother was always suggesting enemas for various ailments, or because something “was going around.” Might have worked, too, because I can remember bugs going around school that I never seemed to catch. Another reason my grandmother suggested enemas was to prevent me from getting worms.

The couple of really serious polio summers were another reason to stay cleaned out, and those were the times we’d go over to Janet’s house for enemas, where Janet and I would be given enemas in plain view of each other, and some other mom’s from out of the neighborhood would bring Thiet kids be on the receiving end, most were girls, and all my anal and enema focus was with girls.

On of my favorite experiences was watching a mom give her very young daughter an enema with a bulb syringe, after a couple of bulbs the little girl let loose with a chunky stream that sprayed from where she had her on the table to the wall! Mom had been trying to hold her cheeks together, but the little girl squirmed and she lost her grip.

Those are some great memories, and they always started with...”It looks like I’m going to have to give you an enema.”

@Denise , That was a fantastic story! Thank you for the effort you put into it. I also enjoy enemas while wearing stockings and open bottom girdles! Have fun this morning! And have an excellent Christmas!

@Denise hearing

he had taken notice how much I had eaten and that I needed a good cleaning out.

Makes me think you would have been in for it no matter what. If you hadn't eaten it would have been "you didn't eat much, you need a good cleaning out.

Morton's Fork for the enema lover.

@linkster - How many days did it take?

@linkster45 - I loved your post! Those were the same exact words my Mom said to me (with a pained look on her face), "It looks like I'm going to have to give you an enema". I dreaded hearing those words. The whole enema production (from the announcement, to telling anyone in listening range, to the preparation and administration) gave me much angst. I knew she was going to make my stomach cramp with the hot soapsuds and I would fill the toilet with poop - all out of my control. My Mom monitored my bowel movements, as instructed by my Grandmother. I was in tears many times as she made me undress and sit on the toilet watching the preparation. She acted perturbed that I LET myself get constipated and my enema ordeal usually lasted about a good hour or more.

"I think someone needs a tummy washing" or "I'm going to fill up your butt"

Yes my mom said that to me exactly

One of the women I have had the pleasure of knowing, into enemas as much as most of us here, learned the trigger to use to get an enema, and that was to say she wasn’t hungry, or pick at her food, especially breakfast. That would often result in an enema as soon as the other kids went out to play, and yes, they got their share of enemas, but Valarie was the one who got the most.

I met Valarie when she was about 35, and we played for quite a few years. I got to know her mother and her aunt, and they openly practiced enemas and colonics, and talked about the benefits. While Val was happy to talk about the sexual side, I never talked with her mom and aunt, other than to agree we all believed them to be beneficial.

I would always hear " I am going to fix your water". Then Mom would get a coat hanger from the front closet and go into the bathroom. She would come out and summon me in and have me undress and get on my knees and elbows. The full bag was hanging on the towel rack . It was to enemas for me. I was allowed to hold onto her left leg as she was filling me. The bowl was always inspected after each enema to make sure they were working.

When my mom would say, "If you don't go soon, I'm afraid I'm going to have to use the syringe on you" I would be filled with dread, knowing what was about to happen to me. True to her word I would soon find myself in the bathroom as she filled me with Ivory soapsuds using the bulb syringe.

I remember when I was about eight years old I was visiting my cousin's house. We were playing out in the backyard when his mother called him inside. Only a few moments later I heard this horrible screaming coming from the bathroom window (these were the days before air conditioning). I went inside and asked my grandmother what was going on. She quickly turned to me and said, "He's getting an enema! Why? Do you want one?"

With that, I dashed out the back door and lived in fear for the next hour that I would be next. But it never happened...and I look back on that day and wonder what might have been.

If they could only see me now! 😁

Have fun and play safe!

Deb

Actually, being told to go into the bathroom and try making a BM always was counterproductive because I would get so worked up and tense that absolutely nothing would happen. When told that, I knew that if I was not able to go, then serious help would be prepared and given to me. At the time I did not like getting an enema and lived in fear of the red bag. My mother was a serious believer in the value of a good enema and never hesitated to give one to either me or my two sisters.

If i seemed to have a fever, not gone to the bathroom, or just said I didn't feel good. the first thing was the rectal temperature. if I had the slightest sign of a fever she would say " I think you need an enema"

I was usually excited and had butterflies in my stomach. She told me to wait, take my pants off. She would go to the lined closet and I could hear the water running. Sometimes I would go to the kitchen and watch her fill the bag and connect the hose and nozzle. This was an exciting time. my little penis would get erect.

The bag was full and i had to take the whole thing, AS much as i could, so sometimes i had three or four times with the nozzle shoved in my rear end. Just thinking about my childhood enemas is still exciting to this day.