All four of us kids, myself and three older sisters got enemas when we had colds, or were constipated. Mom would always ask us if we were constipated. She kept a mental tally of each of us using the toilet, and noted when it had been three days since our last BM. It didn't take long to learn that she already knew the answer was "Yes". After the answer, we were told, "Go to your room and get undressed, and I'll be there in a few minutes."
We would do as we were told, and soon she would be in with a rectal thermometer and a jar of vaseline. She would direct us to get into knee/chest position (of course, we didn't know the name). She would say, "OK, on the bed on all fours, head down, bottom up." Once in position, she dipped her finger in the jar, then spreading it around our anus, then sliding it deep into us to lube our poop chutes. Next, we felt the cold glass rod sliding into us. She would keep her hand across our anus to hold it in for five minutes. She would remove the thermometer and tell us if we had a fever. Then, she would tell us to get up and go into the bathroom, although sometimes, she would tell us to stay in that position, and she would be right back. That let us know that we were getting a suppository instead of (or sometimes before) an enema. Otherwise, we walked naked down the hall to the bathroom. In our early years, we were met with a Pyrex bowl full of soapy water, with the red bulb floating in it. Until we were 6 or 7, she sat on the toilet and pulled us over her lap. After that, she had us kneel with our chest over the side of the bathtub. Either way, we soon felt the nozzle easing into our little butt hole. As we got older, the number of bulbs increased, but always our enemas were comfortable, and although we didn't like them, we submitted quietly. When we were 10, our bathroom visit changed to finding a huge 4 qt bag hanging from the towel rack, bulging with our soapy enema, and smelling of Ivory soap. Our first bag enemas were about 1 qt, but as we matured, they were increased to 2, 3, and if we could hold it, 4 qts.
My two older sisters were pretty "normal", rarely getting constipated, and thus rarely getting enemas. The third sister, Lisa and I both got plugged up almost weekly, and became good friends with warm soapy water. Mom started using suppositories on us pretty often as a pre-emptive treatment. After about a year, we were getting 2, and then 3 glycerin suppositories. If the supps didn't get good results, a soapy enemy wasn't far behind. After about two years, she dropped using suppositories, and just gave us enemas. Lisa and I talked together about our bowels, the suppositories, and enemas. I do not recall ever getting oral laxatives. Mom didn't like the uncertain time for action. I was 12 and Lisa was 14 when Lisa told me she was really liking her enemas, and asked if I did, too. I hadn't really thought about it, but realized that I was looking forward to them. One day, when we were home alone, Lisa whispered in my ear, "I really want an enema. Do you?" I was surprised, and said, "Mom isn't home." Lisa said we could give them to each other. I said OK, and we sneaked to the guest bathroom, which was on the first floor, away from the two older sisters. Lisa took the bag and a bar of Ivory from the upstairs bath, and we locked the guest bathroom door, got undressed, and she mixed up a half bag of hot, strong Ivory soapsuds. She handed me the vaseline, and knelt on the tub side. I lubed her anus, and she said, "Put it inside me, too, and pushed back, impaling herself on my greasy finger. I was really surprised when she moved back and forth on my finger, making soft noises. After about maybe 15 seconds, she pulled off, and said, "OK, I'm ready." I inserted the douche nozzle, opened the clamp, and held the bag up. She started moving back and forth on the nozzle and making the same noises until the bag was empty. I removed the nozzle and she got up.
She had a bulge in her lower tummy, showing that she had an enema in her. She said, "Thanks! That feels really good! You did that as good as Mom. I want to hold this a while, so let's do you." She mixed up about 2 qts for me, and I got into position. She lubed me, and moved her finger in and out, which immediately had me erect. Then, she slid the douche nozzle in, and started my enema. I took about 3 minutes to take the whole bag. SHe pulled the nozzle out and said, "Let's see who can hold the longest! I already have 5 minutes, so we'll start your time now!" I was dubious, but agreed. After five minutes, I had to go. Lisa was going on 10 minutes, and said she was fine, so I sat down and exploded into the toilet. She made a "Eeeewww!" face, and flushed my toilet. By now she wad been holding over 15 minutes, and I asked her if she wanted to go. She said she was OK, and wanted to see how long she could hold it. I kept releasing, and she would flush when the odor got bad.
Finally, after 20 minutes, she said, "I'm almost done. I'm going to try to hold it until I have an accident." She climbed in the tum and squatted down. First, she started peeing. I was fascinated because although I lived with four women, I had never seen one pee. Then, a stream of brown water joined the stream of yellow, and chunks of poop started dropping into the tub. Although fascinated by what Lisa was doing, I couldn't help gagging at the odor. I finished releasing, wiped and started to leave. Lisa said, "Not so fast, we need to rinse the soapy water out. I'll be finished in a minutes, so why don't you fill the bag with warm water." I did fill the bag. Lisa turned on the shower, and used her feet top rinse her used enema down the tub drain. She used a washcloth to clean up, hopped out, and said, "You go first." I got in position, and soon had half the bag gurgling inside me. Lisa shut the clamp, pulled the nozzle and handed it to me. As she knelt, she said, "My turn." Being the good little brother, I injected the rest of the bag into my big sister. She stood in the tub while I released on the toilet, then she sat and released hers. We cleaned the equipment, and the guest bath, dressed and went about the day. Our sisters and Mom were none the wiser. This was our first of hundreds of clandestine enema play sessions, which continued all the way through college, and occasionally after we married.