Mom was an RN who ended up specializing in, and teaching the topic, at a college - psychiatric nursing. Though when she had me over her lap when I was in single digits, her in her early 20s, she may not have realized the impact her multiple insertions of the bulb syringe was making on me, perhaps she realized it later in life. An enema may affect one child psychologically, but not another child. How is a mother to know the effects of an enema or anything else she’s doing for her child? However, she did know that I really enjoyed my enemas, because she asked me whether or not I liked them and I told that I liked them a lot. I doubt that she thought to herself that first day, "I'm going to give Donnie a good enema series and turn him into a klismo and instill in him the need to have things stuck in his rectum."
Mom has mentioned how rapt her students were when she taught about “abnormal sexual behaviors.” Did some of the topics hit close to home for some of those girls in her classes? The bottom line is that she gave me enemas for physical reasons, not for mental reasons, though I suppose the punishment enemas crossed the line from physical to mental, as a means of behavior modification, but not with the intent of making me a klismo, which I was already.
At the time, the early 50s, enemas were a common remedy for a variety of health maladies. In the homes of almost every once of my friends and relatives, an enema bag hung from a hook on the back of the bathroom door or from the shower curtain rod, and bulbs were usually on display on a shelf,
Heck, would a mother consider the act of giving her child Aspirin would cause a psychological impact? Enemas were simply part of the landscape back then, and there were those who enjoyed them and those who didn’t. I don’t think anyone who administered enemas pondered the psychological effects on the recipient. Oou, Tommy has a broken arm. How is the process of setting the bone and applying a cast going to affect his psyche for the rest of his life? Some of us were affected, either positively or negatively, by enemas, and others weren’t. How about the fact that some of us have some sort of sexual kink (or several) and yet, none of us experienced anything to do with that kink while growing up? If you’re anal erotic, you’re anal erotic, regardless of whether you discover it at age 5 or when you’re 40. As LisaK wrote, “we klismos were born this way.” Some of us discovered it early in life and others took decades to discover their kink.
She knew, from the start, that I enjoyed enemas, even the punishment enemas that I began getting a few years later. But Mom was a klismo and so was Dad. Dang, often, between the enemas she gave me, she took one, matching one for one the ones she was giving me. More than once, as I expelled, I watched her prepare an enema for herself that she took before she gave me my next one. After I was put to bed, she usually took Dad into the bathroom too, for a good enema series, followed by bed squeaking noises from their bedroom. Was Mom getting buggered by Dad? After all, beyond its pleasurable aspects, it is indeed an effective means of birth control, before “the pill” was available, as well as now.
Due to constipation caused by an antibiotic I was on, I got enemas Tuesday and Thursday nights, and Saturday mornings. I’d been on routine enemas for a couple of years by then, but not on a schedule like that. After the original medical problem had been solved, I asked Mom to keep me on my regular enema schedule. She asked, “Why?” I answered that I enjoyed getting them. Happily, she agreed and she continued for another couple of years, until she got busier at work, and also realized I was taking enemas after I got home from school, before they got home.
Her using me to demonstrate to other moms and their kids how to properly administer enemas reinforced my klisomophilia. I never objected to being used for these demonstrations – I was always an eager subject!
Sometimes she decided what equipment she was going to use on me, and other times she asked me exactly what bag and nozzle I wanted her to use on me, directly involving me in the enema process. She had to know how much pleasure I received from my enemas as I selected which nozzle, or douche bulb, and solution and volume I wanted for my enema. She always smiled as I made my choices and complied with my wishes.
I doubt she was trying to make me into a klismo – this was the golden age of enemas and everyone (almost) took enemas. I seriously doubt she thought that I’d crave anything else up my ass than a good enema.
She ignored my erections, When she figured out I was sneaking enemas before she and Dad got home, she didn’t say anything except to tell me that whenever I felt that I wanted to take an enema, or two, or three, that it was okay to do so. After we moved and they had a master bathroom, she bought me my own bag and tossed in some of my favorite enema equipment. I left my new bag (amber latex) hanging from the shower curtain rod, as she’d had her bag displayed, not hidden away.
As for girls, Cheryl77177 brings up the difference between boys and girls, as boys have a prostate gland which is very sensitive. Yet most females are “wired” to be penetrated, and I doubt that urge ends at their vagina.