What was your first enema experience like?

My first enema was with a friend of my mother’s. My mother dropped me off, said her and my father were going out of town. I watched TV for a little while before she called me into her room. She explained that my mom had told her about my constipation and that she was going to give me what was called an enema. Then she told me to take my pants and underwear off and laid a towel on her bathroom floor, and told me to get on my knees and down onto my elbows. Then, she grabbed some vaseline, and explained she was going to lubricate me and slip her finger into my bottom. She did so, and then said she would insert the nozzle and asked me to bear down. My knees were really close together as I didn’t like where this was going at all, so using one hand, she spread my cheeks, and then slipped the nozzle past my ring. Next she said she would “start the flow” . Soon I felt hot water rush up my butt, and it didn’t take long before I was begging to go to the bathroom. She rubbed my back and told me that I could take the whole thing. She even made me hold it ten minutes before she let me go!

For others- what was it like? What position were you in? Where were you at? Were you fully naked?

This was during the time that we were still in the final stages of getting my father awarded sole custody, and having my mother's parental rights terminated. The stress on both of us did leave me actually constipated.

Dad waited until I was playing on the floor in the living room. He walked in and started talking to me.

He was holding a black rubber bulb, about 4 oz with a hard black tube. He sets it on the coffee table and just says, "You know Lisa, you haven't pooped in more than two days. That IS a problem, and we need to do something about it.

I did what came naturally to me, I picked up the bulb and squeezed it. It was empty, but the air made a kind of whistling sound.

I said, "What's this?"

He said, "That's the tool that we need to solve the problem."

He said, "Lisa, come up her on the sofa next to me!"

I got up there and sat beside him. He looked me in the eye, and said, "This is NOT going to be something that is any fun for either of us. You won't like it at all. I won't like doing this to you! Not at all!

This is one of those things that I wish we had a mom around to get you through, it’s a Mom thing, really, especially with a girl, but really for any child. Since there is no mom in your life, I'll do the best I can."

I said, "I understand!"

He also said, "Now it NOT something we can avoid doing, or can get out of, in any way. There is no point in fighting it.

You HAVE to do it!

I HAVE to do it!

Now, I am going to explain how it will work, and what will happen. I will do my best to explain how it feels, but it feels a little different every time, so I can only tell so much before it happens. You need to cooperate, and talk to me! Tell me what you're feeling at each time as we go through."

“It's called an enema." He wanted me to say it.

"It is a very private, and personal thing. Not something we talk about to friends or at preschool. It's just between us! OK?"

I said, "OK!"

We'll do it on your bed, because that's the familiar comfortable place that will make things easier for you."

I am going to have to mix up some soapy water and put it in this bulb. The way I do that is by squeezing the bulb like this and putting it in the water up to here." He pointed to the place where the bulb and the tube met.

I let it inflate and it pulls the water up into it. Do you see how that works?" I said, "Yeah."

"Then you will have to lay in a position I know is not comfortable, or even very easy to stay in, but I will help you with staying in position."

He showed me a drawing from an old medical handbook of a woman in ponytails lying what I now know to be the knee-chest position.

When I do it, putting a pillow under my knees helps, but I don't know if you are big enough for that yet."

Before you get in that position, your panties and tights have to come off! No excuses, they just get in the way!

When you get into that position, it helps to relax as much as you can without slumping out of it. Then I will have to lift your dress. I have to stick the black part in your bottom. It won't hurt, but it will feel a little weird. I will, give you a few seconds, no rush. Then I will say 'deep breath', and I want you to breathe in as deeply as you can. Hold it for just that second while I start squeezing the bulb, and once you feel the water squirt inside your bottom, and you WILL feel it, you need to breathe out. Then, just breathe normally."

I said, "Will it HURT?" He said, "This is a small enema, and I will do the best I can to be as gentle as possible. I can't say whether it might hurt a little bit, but it should ABSOLUTELY NOT hurt so much you need to be screaming or crying! A quick "OW" is usually about what you will feel. May not hurt at all. There are things you can do to make it hurt less. One way you can make it hurt is by trying to keep the water out of you or try to fight it. The black part is that length for a reason. Only the muscle there at the end just inside your bottom is the only one that can hold anything out of your bowel. That is the muscle you can feel getting tighter when you try to tighten your butt. Once anything gets above that, you CAN'T hold it back! This tool is made to put the water far enough inside you that you CAN'T stop it from going in. If you relax, and don't try to stop it, it will ALWAYS hurt less! Maybe still a little bit, but a lot less! Understand?" I said "yes!'

Then He says, “I can't be completely sure it won't hurt at all, but I will be as gentle as I can. If it hurts more than a little, hurts enough to make you scream or want to fight, that means one of us didn't do it right! So let's both do the best we can, and we'll get through it OK."

I said, "Dad, have you ever had to get one of these? An enema?" He said, "Sometimes, and because there is no mommy in the house, I have to do it all for myself. When you are old enough, I will teach you how to do for yourself. I want to show you something!" He goes in the bathroom, I follow. He takes out this big, hot water bottle type bag and puts water in it from the bathtub faucet. He holds it up to his tummy, and says, "This is what I have to use. It's the bigger adult size!" I now know it to be 3-qt! I've used it since! He holds the bulb up to my tummy and says "See the difference?" I just nod a "yes." He says, "This hurts EVERY time! Being a grown up is sometimes not a lot of fun! Enjoy being a kid while you have a chance!"

"Back to what is going to happen NOW," he says.

I will slowly squirt that water in you. You will feel some bloating. When you really feel like you can't take any more, you have to tell me so I can stop. I don't know what YOUR body feels. You need to tell me!

When you get that water inside you, you will feel a little pressure. Maybe right away, more likely in a few minutes, you will feel ilk you REALLY have to poop! Not just a little like you CAN poop, but like you HAVE TO poop!"

He looks me right in the eye again, and says, "This is the hardest part, but it is also the most important! You need to HOLD THAT WATER INSIDE YOU UNTIL YOU CAN'T HOLD IT ANYMORE!!! The feeling you have to poop will be stronger some times and not as strong another time. That's normal! That's how this works. We both need for you to get to that one wave that is coming out anyway, no matter what you do. When you are really starting to think you might not make it to the toilet. I will check the clock. If it has been in long enough to help you, I'll tell you to run to the toilet

He then dumps the water out of that bag, and hangs it up to dry

If it's not long enough yet, I'll tell you to start taking slow, deep breaths. Do that until you CAN hold it another moment. That is only going to buy a short time, but it should be enough. When you get to the toilet, you WILL have a loos watery poop, and likely several more over the next little while. The whole thing, from sticking it in you, until you poop should be less than 20 minutes. Then, within another 20 minutes, it should be finished. Depending on how much comes out, I'll have to figure out as we go along if you need to do it a second time. Remember, you will be having no fun, and neither will I. I want to get it over with as bad as you do! I will try to make it go as fast as reasonably possible, but how long it really takes depends on things neither of us can control.

. He says, "OK, now the quicker we get started the quicker we'll finish!"

He says, Go to your room, and take your shoes, tights and panties off. I'll be in just as soon as I can.

I did what I was told. I sat on the bed for what seemed like forever Dad showed up with the same bulb in one hand, and a jug of soapy water in the other. He said, "Let me go and get a couple of towels and two washcloths, just to catch any drips."

He goes to the linen closet, and returns with a beach towel, which was used to cover the whole bed, a bath towel that he put around my pillow, and two washcloths. He put the washcloths on the nightstand, and the jug of soapy water on one washcloth, and the bulb on the other. I looked at the bulb. There was a drop of water running down the nozzle. He said, "It's normal to be scared! Everybody is, the first time! What helps me, when I get scared doing this is not to look at the bag. I think you would have an easier time if you just look at the bulb quickly, and then look away."

He said, "Now I need you to kneel down with your knees on this pillow. Good, good, spread the knees just a little more! There perfect! Now lower your chest until your chest is on the mattress." He showed me. Then said, "Come back just a little. The weight needs to be on your chest, not your neck. There, you've got it! Now you know enema position if you ever need another enema."

He said, "This feels better if you hold still. At your age, I don't know if it is possible to both hold still AND relax, but try it! See if you can lie completely still without tensing up." I tried to do that, and he said, "Good, you're there!" He picked up the bulb, and said, "Stay relaxed, now, but maintain position." I felt him lift up my sundress. I felt the black tube go inside me. He tilted it up a little, and just held it there for what seemed like an eternity, then said, "Deep Breath, just like I said." I took a deep breath. He said, "Now hold it for just a moment, and when you feel the water, breathe out." I tried to just do what I was told, then, when the water started, I think I kind of gasped a little. He said, "It's OK, everything is happening the way it should!" I felt like I had to poop. He pulled the bulb out of me and stuck it in the jug. He let it fill up again, and stuck it back in. "Deep breath." I did it again. This time, it felt like I was full of water, and there was just that little pain in my tummy. I said, "I feel pretty full, and it hurts just a little!" He said, "Good! That’s what I need to know. This is why I need you to talk to Me." and pulled the nozzle out of me. He set everything back on the night stand. The bulb was right next to the jug. The water in the jug had brown pieces of poop in it.

He said, "Now remember what I told you, you really need to hold it in as long as you can!! When you don't think you can hold it, tell me!" I said, "I think that's happening!!" He says, “Just hold it! The longer it stays in, the more good it does you! You're a strong girl, and you're a big girl!" I was! I was tall for my age, and eventually grew to 5'11"! Right then, I was just trying not to blow poop all over the bed. After several more waves, and Dad encouraging me on every one. I finally said, "Dad, this time it's coming out, NOTHING I CAN DO!" He says, OK, then head for the toilet! NOW!" I ran for the bathroom with him right behind. I managed to get my dress up, and get onto the toilet before it came out, but it was close! He looked at his watch, and said, "Now just relax! Let it come out as it wants to! Don't hold back, but don't push hard either, just let it come! You did great!! You probably won't need another one any time soon! I didn't! Not until I was 6! That one was given with a small white “children’s” bag, which was sent unsolicited by Mom’s sister in Saskatoon. He still won’t tell me, even after this long, but I thought then and I am even more convinced now that he thought long and hard, maybe even agonized over whether to use that small white bag, which has raised lettering around the neck “1 imp. QT” He says he still has it. Haven’t seen it since.

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@Lisak How old were you when your dad gave you your first enema?? Didn't need another enema until you were six - so you were 3 or 4??. Fantastic memory (or imagination) for that age to recall all of that in that such detail!

LisaK, what was your dad doing? That would be about the worst way to do it. You don't lie to kids, but you don't dwell on how terrible it will be. "this is an enema, it's putting some soapy water up your bottom to help you go poop, it might feel funny or uncomfortable but it will help" seems a better way to do it.

@Lisak How old were you when your dad gave you your first enema?? Didn't need another enema until you were six - so you were d4 or 4??. Fantastic memory (or imagination) for that age to recall all of that in that such detail!

I think Lisak has a lot of imaginations and fantasies, and is not playing with a full deck of cards.

I never received an enema until I was 15 years old. I told my mom I needed an enema . I was curious about them . Mom said we don't have anything to do one with, so I called a neighbor and they had an enema bag..I borrowed it and went home. My mom was not home so I started on my own. I did one and never got the whole bag in and had to expel. I tried again and I got the most rock hard erection in my life and a great orgasm .Finally my mom got home and finished giving me a whole bag full. I talked her into another one the next day but she was not real willing to give it to me but she did .Thus my beginning of my enema fetish that has been 57 years of pleasure

My first time was self administered. When I was 17 I'd seen an enama porn video and got extremely horny. I finally gotten the nerve to buy a bag from the drug store and try it out . I still remember the first time .the nozzle going In the water flowing in and at the point My life the biggest orgasms of my teenage life.

I must have been 3 or 4. I was super sick with a high fever. My mom gave me a cold enema to try and lower it. I remember screaming and crying my head off. It really hurt but did lower my fever.

I called a neighbor and they had an enema bag..I borrowed it and went home.

Dang, and I feel bad borrowing a gas can for the mower!

I can't tell you if I was four or five years old. I was playing on the floor at grandma's and she told me come into the bathroom with her. She told me to take my clothes off and so I did. She had the sink full of soapy water and a squeeze bulb, she filled the bulb and told me to bend over right at the toilet. When she squeezed the bulb and the soapy water went in it nearly took my breath away, what a surprise. Immediately she told me to sit and as quickly as the water went in it started to come out. If I remember right there were two more, by the third I was ready for it and could hold it for at least a minute. I absolutely loved the feeling of the water going in and I was hooked. I never complained about enema time.

I can't remember the exact age as it is hard to recollect all childhood memories, but as far as I remember I was 6 years old in the first grade of primary school. I got constipated due to switching from home diet to the school food. Usually in my case a few glycerin suppo solved the issue, but I think it was more complicated so mom decided to take the action with the well known red bulb. I am sure I got enemas at much early age like my sister but I just simply cannot remember.

I wish I remembered it better. Based on where we were living, I was probably 5 or 6 years old. I don't know what led up to it or how it was presented. But I have the strong image of sitting on the toilet. I had a t shirt on, but no bottoms. I was alone in the bathroom. I was looking up at the bulging yellow enema bag hanging from a clothes hanger hooked over the shower curtain rod. I could tell there was something that happening to me, there was a strange feeling in my tummy. That is all I recall. That was the only enema I got as a kid, as far as I know.

I've been getting/taking enemas since I was very small and, according to mom, I really needed them. My first memory is from probably when I was between 4 and 5 years old and by then they were obviously not new to me. Mom always made it something between a non event and a pleasant one. Her first act would be to take me into the bathroom, where she stripped my clothes off, Next, she sat on the closed toilet and had me lie across her legs where she massaged my little butt with a lubed finger and, apparently when she felt me relax, slid the finger in and felt around inside.

On removing it, she would insert the buld nozzle and slowly fill me up, talking pleasantly all the time. I think usually, two bulbs were enough to get me loosened up and I expelled. When all was done, a nice warm bath with mom washing me. It never was a scary thing for me, in fact probably at about 8 years old, maybe sooner, I looked forward to it, especially her initial finger treatment. I didn't then equate it with anything sexual, it was just very pleasant.

At about ten years old, mom passed the bulb to my older sister, who looked after me with equal care. She must have been about 14 and by then fully aware of sexual matters. She treated me the same as mom did but used a bag and nozzle. I think it was probably the generic drugstore model and she used the longer douche nozzle right from the start. I was bigger by this time, so it was done on my knees, and leaning on my elbows on a bath towel in the bathroom. Again, it was all very pleasant, with my sister taking her time massaging me and slowly sliding her finger in. I was always glad to feel it and sorry when she finally withdrew it and inserted the nozzle.

When my enema was done, she often asked me to stay with her while she took her enema. She did it for herself the same way she did for me, first her finger, then the nozzle. She asked me a couple of times to hold the nozzle in while she filled. I was sorry when she left home for college and I had to start doing my own enemas. I really missed her and the intimacy of the whole thing. Happy days.

I only very vaguely recall that my RN mom gave me very few enemas in total in my childhood, certainly less than 5, but I do remember pretty much enjoying them. The next one I had I gave myself at age 15 after seeing my mom's amber rubber bag hanging in her bath for years, right after I discovered how to orgasm in my bath one night in ninth grade. Immediately they felt extremely erotic and I gave myself the first few either on my parents' bed or the bathroom rug after that, always with a spectacular teenage orgasm after or during the enema. I've loved them ever since, and now with bad ED from age and medication, they really help me have orgasms.

Eric

Our dad was a WW-2 veteran. He got a ruptured appendix on the battle field. His buddies opened a book, slit him open and dumped his guts into a basin. Whisky was the only available antiseptic and sedation. They removed the wasted tissue and rinsed his guts of the discharge. They put him back together as best they could and used adhesive tape heated over a flame to secure his belly.

Lingering in hospital for 6 months, all were amazed he survived.

We were dairy farmers milking a dozen cows producing precious grade B through a strainer into 20 gallon cans.

Mom was well learned in the art, as dad's guts were always in trouble the rest of his life.

We were a half mile back off from the road, behind an Alfalfa field in Northern California. Dad made a 12 foot by 4 foot concrete tank for the cows to drink from and it also fed irrigation into little 8 acre pastures. We used it as well to bathe and everyone got an enema. Dad would show off his loaded belly and it became a matter of family pride and delight. For the longest there were a couple black and white photos of the regular event. Sometime after we all left home they disappeared. When, many years later and our kids were talking good, i tried to duplicate this family fun inside our home. But i had no clue how to get up the enthusiasm and it flopped miserably.

It was like a domesticated skunk, Stank a little, colorful, sort of fun, but a whole lot of strange. I told my sister about it and she said i was an intolerable hick. Problem was, she was right.

I like Annie's story lots better than ours. Never thought of it from their perspective. But that would have been lots nicer.

I can't remember the exact age I was as it is hard to recollect any childhood memories at my age, lol. But as far as I remember I was around 6 years old in the first grade of school. I got up not feeling to good my stomach was hurting bad. I usually would go get back in bed and hope it would get better. but this did not help my problem, or solved the issue, but I think it was more complicated. At this time we was living with my grandmother, so it was my grandmother that decided to take some action, and not my mother. I was told to go to the bathroom where there was a red enema bag hanging on the towel rack. I was told to set on the toilet. So my grandmother told me that this would help stop the pain. So she prepared the enema. She then told me to get into the bathtub, She had place some towels for me to lay on. She then told me to get on my left side with my knees bent. So I took off my underwear and pajama bottoms and did as I was told and laid down in the bathtub knees bent. So that was my first enema. I simply don't remember just how it felt, but it did help the problem. I know it was not my last one. I have got many enemas since then.

An eye opener. Yes I was 10 and it was the squirt bottle but it was love at first try. I went from

Squirt bottle To shampoo bottle to faucet hose to shower head hose to fleet bottles to douche bottle to 2 qt bag to 4qt bag and beyond. I’m sad I missed out on this growing up with constipation I only got suppositories a few times and lots of prune juice. But at least I got to learn my favorite habit and a semi young age so I’ll get to grow old doing it

My first enema was very awkward and it burned for me.

My sister which I found attractive had to give me a enema because I was constipated and she was my older sister.

She tells me to come into the bathroom and lay on the mat while she gets the enema ready.

I could hear her filling up the enema bag and I started to get really antsy and nervous. She got a box of latex gloves and put them on. She got the enema ready and told me that it may burn a little and to hold still.

She put some lube on the enema and then inserted it. I had a really hard time holding it in and it really burned. I was about to cry because it was really uncomfortable

About 15 minutes later I finally went to the bathroom.

I think I enjoyed it. When I had my first enema, I was 4 years old and apparently constipated. My aunt took me upstairs, stripped me and lubed me with vaseline. Then the bulb pipe was lubed up and inserted several times. I don't know if there was soap in the water, but I was putting up quite a fuss before the enema was started. I remember that I liked the feeling of the insertions. I was allowed to sit on the potty and eliminate and then it was repeated. This left quite an impression on me and I used to sneak enema as I was growing up. Now definitely a practicing fan.

Although I probably got bulb enemas before that, the first enema I clearly remember was a bag enema when I was 4 years old. I had a cold and was constipated. The doctor told my mother to give me an enema of 1 pint of warm salt water with the enema bag. I didn't know what she was doing to me. I just know it started to make my stomach hurt and I cried and struggled as the warm water flowed in. She then forced me to hold it in for 5 minutes as it continued to give me bad cramps. After that she started to give me daily enemas anytime I was home from school sick, and after trying several other mixtures besides salt water she settled on soapsuds enemas made with Ivory bar soap as being the most effective in getting my bowels cleared out. I continued to cry and struggle whenever she gave me an enema until I was about 10 years old and then I just started to accept them without putting up a fuss because it was clear they were going to happen regardless of my resistance. Luckily I didn't get a lot of enemas (maybe a dozen or so a year) mostly when I was home from school sick, as well as an occasional one when a dose of laxative at bedtime didn't work as soon as I woke up the next morning in spite of a glycerin suppository stuck up my bum in the morning to help it along. I also got 2 soapsuds enemas every year during the Easter holidays as part of a "Spring Cleaning" that also involved several doses of laxatives and worm syrup given to me and my 3 younger cousins when we spent the holidays at my grandparents' home during the week after Easter. The only year I got more enemas was when I was 12 and was off school sick for a week with the measles. That along with several bouts of colds and flu during the school year got me about 2 dozen enemas that year.

My first enema with a real enema bag was when I was twelve or thirteen. I was alone for a while at my grandmother's house. I was there to cut the yard. I had never been given an enema, but was aware of what it was. My grandmother left her enema bag hanging on a nail by the toilet, and it was hanging there then. The bag was a red combination style and always had an enema nozzle on the end of the hose. I had fantasized often about getting an enema, so I decided to go for it! I told myself that if I experienced an enema, I wouldn't fantasize about it anymore. Anyway, being uneducated in the technique, I made the soap solution way too strong. In addition, I didn't know to let the air out of the tubing and had a difficult time getting it started. Once the flow started, I leaned very quickly about my strong soap solution mistake! I cramped quickly and wasn't able to take much. Afterwards, I remember that, while cutting the yard, I had to run back inside to the toilet several times! I thought, at the time, that this enema experience would cure me of by desires for an enema. That didn't happen!

My next enema opportunity came a little later at my home. I had some time at home alone, which didn't happen often, so I decided to go for it again! My mother had a yellow folding syringe that she kept in the hall closet that she used for douching because it always had the douche nozzle attached. I was so worried that I would be found out, that I sketched the way the syringe and hose was laying in the closet so I could replace it when I was finished. The bag was old and I was scarred that I would tear the bag if I tried to hang it, so I had to hold it with one hand while inserting the nozzle with the other hand. I was able to find the enema nozzle, so I used it. I made the soap solution fairly strong, but was able to hold it this time. I couldn't fill the bag completely because of worrying about damaging it, so I had to stop and refill it about half way through. I took the enema sitting on the toilet. I was so excited, that my legs were shaking! I probably got about two quarts in me before I cramped so bad that I couldn't hold it. I was really cleaned out this time! I have never been "cured" of this enema desire, but that has turned out OK!

What my first experience with the real bag was like.... Oh, goodness sakes... Mom had it prepared for me when she woke me. I'd been bugging her for weeks maybe months for her to give me one, but she always ignored my pleas. Well, I guess she got tired of my constant requests and decided to let me have one. It was a Saturday morning and Mom didn't have to work that day and I of course had no school. We were alone in the house, which was a rarity. My grandmother had gone out of town to visit her son, my Mom's brother and my brother had spent the night with one of his friends. They were scheduled to go fishing that morning with the boy's father.

I'll never forget how tender she was when she came into my room to wake me. She gently rubbed my back and tickled my neck. I, at first, thought Mom's finger was a fly or something. But, upon awakening I saw that it was my Mom. She grinned down at me, took my hand and pulled me out of bed. Then, she led me by the hand into the bathroom that joined my room. At that point I had no idea what she had in mind, but I soon figured it out.

Once in the bathroom, I noticed laying on top of the washing machine that was in my bathroom was an open box. Mom turned me toward the toilet and there hanging above it was Mom's Rexall Victoria Combination syringe filled and ready for me. I was happy and I was also embarrassed. I left the room and went back into my bedroom hiding behind the closet door.

Mom called out to me saying "Mike, if you want me to give you this here enema, then you'd better come in here now. If you do not, I am going to take it down and if I do, I do not want to hear another thing about you wanting me to give you a bag enema."

Well, I guess you know what I did. That's right! I want right on back in there taking off my undies as I did. Mom had me lie across the toilet and when I was in position, Mom pulled my right bootie cheek out and inserted the black enema nozzle.

Mom then asked me if I was ready and I said "yes M'am!" And with that said, Mom opened the red tube's shut-off and ... well, nothing happened. Mom asked me if I could feel the water. I told her "no!"

I looked around and saw Mom squeezing the red bag. She, again, asked me if I felt anything. I, again, told her "No!"

Mom pulled the nozzle from my rectum and took the bag off its hook. The next thing I knew Mom was hitting the nozzle against the side of the sink. Mom, then, opened the tube's shut-off while pointing the nozzle into the sink. Still nothing came out. Mom continued to hit the nozzle on the side of sink while the tube's shut-off remained open. Finally, water came out.

Mom moved back to where she was previously standing and again hung the bag on the hook.

Mom, then, said "Mike, you must be really full of shit! The nozzle was full of it."

The next thing I knew, Mom had again inserted the black nozzle back into my rectum. She, then, asked if I was ready and I told her "yes, M'am one more time. This time, when Mom opened the shut-off, I felt the water and told Mom so. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. The water felt oh so good as it flooded my intestine. Finally, Mom removed the nozzle and I got onto a slop jar Mom had brought into the bathroom. So, I got up on it and released my first bag enema.

When I had finished, I did as my Mom had told me. I went into the kitchen and got her. She followed me back into my bathroom where she looked down into the pot. She, then, poured the waste into the commode and flushed it. Then, to my surprise, she took down the hot water bottle and refilled it again. She gave me two more enemas that morning! I was one happy young man!

It was unpleasant, but very exciting

At 8 years old I felt like it was an invasion of my 'privates, and I protested loudly but I secretly loved it. 71 years later and I'm still at it

Enemas aren't really a thing in my country, so I never got one from mom. But after reading lots of SpeculumPages as a student (over a 56k6 dialup connection!), it seemed a natural continuation of my anal explorations.

So, in my early twenties I managed to order an enema bag online, and receive it without it getting noticed in a house with 19 students. I remember looking at the simple rectal nozzle and getting aroused by the idea that that was going into my butt. I also remember being afraid that anyone would hear me taking the enema. I filled the bag with plain water, got naked, and took the enema on my belly. I was surprised I couldn't take a whole bag at first - after all, the speculumpages have lots of kids getting a bag. Despite the mixed feelings in my belly, my dick was rock hard and I was hooked.

Not much later, I purchased a bat-shaped delrin nozzle from JD's - whose website proudly mentioned their awarded "web weirdness award". I certainly felt weird buying it. Now this nozzle was a whole new level of fun - I lubed myself with vaseline, got down onto my belly, and inserted the nozzle. The sensation of that heavy nozzle sliding in was amazing. More so, as every time I clenched, it would bury itself deeper due to its shape. During the enema, this made for a nice experience: whenever the pressure became high, the nozzle would slide out a bit, at which point I would clench and it would slide in again. Hands-free nozzle movement.

Those were the first two of many...

I received several enemas from my strict sing mother. She was a nurse and cleanliness and enemas she felt were good preventive medicine. So starting very young I got at least two enemas a week. Bulb and leading in time to the two quart bag. Soap used in the first one and several rinses. I had to have a clear release before she stop rinsing. In time I have developed more and more fetishes and fantasy's. I believe it all originated from my childhood.

Penetration and being controlled is all part of me being submissive. Could be worse habits and fantasies, also there good for you too.

My enemas had started sometime during the first grade, I was getting them fairly often at first (maybe 3, 4 times a week?) for a while, anytime that it was thought that I might be holding back (often I was).

I was still getting them fairly regularly through grade school, tapering off quite a bit through jr. high as I was getting more cooperative about my bowel habits. I was an encompresis kid, it was voluntary (reasons for starting the habit I am still sorting out), but as time progressed and I still held onto the habit I eventually convinced some people (my mom believed, I think my Dr might have had been slightly sceptical) that I couldn't always tell when I needed to go to the bathroom. That kept me on a schedule to do a bm every evening (and usually reminded) up through my teens and through high school, and made it harder for me to drop the habit (in hindsight) I believe. I got an enema pretty much anytime I couldn't go to the bathroom, or suffered a bellache, or there were the visible signs of my encompresis, streaks in too many pairs of underwear.

Honestly, I believe that my mom had no joy giving me enemas and honestly, I would say that I had needed pretty much every enema I had to get, which I didn't particularly like back then either.

The first enema I can remember was at age 5. I didn't get them often, maybe one every few months until I was 12. I didn't like them but learned to tolerate them. I started giving to myself around age 10 with a bulb and then our family bag. Mom switched me from bulb to bag around age 11. Ther were several larger rectal nozzles and of course the curved black douche nozzle which gave me great pleasure. I know mom knew I using the equipment as it was wet when she or dad had not used it. Once she discovered a nozzle in my bedroom which I was using for play. She just mentioned she had cleaned my room but never the nozzle specifically. It was replaced in the bathroom.

We don't really remember much before about the age of 3 or 4

By then I had already had a couple

Please check for existing threads before starting a new one.

Thanks

Moppy