How were your enemas given when growing up?

Mine were not scheduled on a regular basis. Only when it was perceived that I was constipated, and after the MOM had had a chance to work and didn’t. I would be told that I was getting an enema to help me feel better. Always across the bed on a towel, early years with a bulb syringe, later the bag. I could keep my t-shirt on. With the bag, it was usually a soapy enema first and then a plain water rinse.

As I mentioned elsewhere I did not receive an enema with any sort of predictable schedule. Most of the time it was because I was sick or mom figured that I had not been regular enough in her judgment. Enemas were almost always given at bedtime. I'd be told to change into pajamas or a nightie as she would retrieve the combination syringe and busy herself with filling it with an Ivory soap solution. The bag would be hung and I'd be called to the bathroom. If I was in pajamas the bottoms would come off otherwise the nightie would be lifted to shoulder blade height. I'd be over her knees, the nozzle would be lubed and inserted into my bottom, and the flow begun. Those enemas were not painful, but rather could be a bit uncomfortable. I'd have to hold it for several minutes before being allowed to sit on the toilet. Never once did one of mom's enemas fail to yield results and over the years I outgrew my dislike for getting one.

By grandma, with a red bulb, on the bed on my back and for the first ones, my grandma‘s sister had to hold and constraint my legs and knees up

Most were given to me in bed, curled up on my left side on a plastic sheet covered by a towel, both legs pulled up to my chest. My mother used an open top 2 quart enema bag hanging on a hook on the outside of my bedroom cupboard door which swung open towards my bed. Although the first one she gave me on doctor's orders when I was 4 years old and had a cold that constipated me was a pint of warm salt water, she soon tried other solutions on the advice of my grandmothers, aunts, and friends' mothers including plain water, salt and baking soda, Epsom Salts, and soap, and she soon found that soap was the most effective in clearing out my bowels. She used Ivory bar soap swished around in warm water until the solution was milky and sudsy, and as I got older she increased the size of the enemas by a cup every 3 years until they eventually reached 2 quarts when I turned 22. She gave the enema non-stop and made me hold it in for 5 minutes by pressing my buttocks together. At first I squirmed and complained that it hurt and I had to go really bad, but she wouldn't let me expel the enema until the time was up. She just told me to take slow deep breaths through my mouth. Then she let me sit on a chamber pot set on a stool beside my bed so she could check the results. Occasionally she wasn't satisfied and would give me a second enema that seemed stronger and soapier than the first and she would make me hold that one in for 10 minutes before I was allowed to expel it. By the time I was 10 I stopped resisting just to get it over with because no amount of resisting and complaining would prevent the enema. I only got about a dozen enemas a year, mostly when I was too sick to go to school, when she would give me a daily enema to keep my bowels open during the illness, and I also got a few when she had given me a laxative at bedtime and it didn't work as soon as I woke up the next morning. Occasionally she would give me an enema in the bathroom, either laying curled up on a towel on the floor or in knee-chest position in the bathtub. This continued until I finished University and moved away from home to take my first job out of town when I was in my mid-20's.

Once my mother said, "I think you could use a good enema," there was no way to change the outcome. I have vague memories of enemas from a bag before 5 years old, but very definitely a series of enemas at age six after I swallowed a screw. Almost all enemas were from my widowed mother, who was a believer in the healing power of a 'good enema.' I did get more than a few from one of my spinster aunts who was an RN since I usually spent vacations with them.

Enemas from my mother were always in the bathroom; me on my knees, bent over the tub. I always wore a t-shirt, but was naked from the waist down. My mother, sitting on the tub edge, black enema nozzle in hand. Ponds Cold Cream was the lube of choice. The bag was an open top red Goodrich bag with the regular red hose, metal clip, and black nozzle. The first enema was always soapsuds - generally Ivory, but occasionally Lifebuoy. The scent of Ivory and Ponds filled the air. Until age 12 I got about half a bag then my mother's sisters convinced her I was old enough and big enough for a full bag enema. From then on it was always 2 quarts. If you could not take it all, the process was repeated. I always got a tap-water rinse.

When I was 15, I got pinworms and the prescribed cure included a wrenched oral medicine and soapsuds enemas. My mother bought a new red Rexall Victoria fountain syringe when we were at the drug store to pick up the prescription medicine and that was used for all enemas that followed. At that age it was terribly embarrassing to be given enemas by my mother. I inevitably got erections and tried to hide them, but my mother just told me it was just natural. Her enemas were as gentle as she could make them, but were always to completion.

My RN Aunt was more of a no-nonsense giver. She was cold and officious and her enemas were very clinical and uncomfortable. Her bag was a Davol 'Comfy' as I remember and it was always too much! She was a Lifebuoy fan. After age 13 I don't recall any further enemas from her.

The last enemas from my mother was when I was 17. I got a wicked flu and was very dehydrated. She gave me two enemas and those were my last from her.

I was a well watered kid!

When I was little I was a withholder which would eventually lead to me becoming constipated. My mom would give me a dose of Milk of Magnesia and tell me that if I didn't move my bowels she was going to have to use the syringe on me. In an effort to avoid the dreaded syringe I would try desperately to go, but with no success. After my mom decided that enough time had elapsed and that the laxative wasn't going to work on me she would take me by the hand and lead me into the bathroom. As she closed the bathroom door behind us I would beg and plead with her not to use the syringe on me, but to no avail. She would undress me, sit me on the toilet and tell me to try to go as she got everything ready. As I grunted and strained to poop I had to watch as she began the preparations. She would get a bowl from under the sink and fill it with hot water, then she would get a bar of Ivory soap and begin rubbing it between her hands in the bowl of water until the water was milky white. She was a firm believer that an enema had to be hot and soapy to truly be effective. The smell of Ivory soap would fill the bathroom as I made a last desperate try to go. She would place a towel on the bathroom floor, place the bowl of soapy water beside it, then reach into the medicine cabinet and retrieve the bulb syringe and a jar of Vaseline. She would place me face down on the towel and tell me we needed to get started before the water cooled down.

I would make one last plea for her to not use the syringe on me. She said she was sorry she had to do this to me, but since I hadn't moved my bowels she had no choice but to use the syringe on me and make me move my bowels. She would kneel beside my upturned bottom, then I would hear the bubbling sound of her filling the syringe with the hot soapy water. As she lubricated the nozzle with Vaseline I knew my fate was sealed. The syringing that I dreaded was about to begin. She would separate my butt cheeks with the thumb and forefinger of her left and and place the tip of the nozzle against my butthole. Instinctively I would tighten up in an attempt to prevent the insertion of the nozzle. She would tell me to try to relax and that the more I fought the syringe the more it would hurt. Then she applied pressure and I felt the stabbing pain as the nozzle penetrated my butthole and slid on up into my rectum. She told me to take a deep breath as she squeezed the bulb firmly, squirting the first bulb full of soapy water into my bowels. I cried out as I felt the hot Ivory soap solution fill my rectum. When the bulb was empty she pulled the nozzle from my bottom and I heard the gurgling sound as she relaxed her grip on the syringe and it filled with air. As I heard the bubbling sound of her refilling the syringe I would beg her not to us the syringe on me again, but she just continued with her task, inserting the syringe up my ass and squeezing the bulb hard, flooding my rectum with more of the soapy water. She would tell me that we had just gotten started and that she was going to have to keep using the syringe on me until she had forced enough of the soapy water up inside of me to make me move my bowels. She pulled the now empty syringe from my quivering bottom and again I heard the gurgling and bubbling sound, confirmation that the syringing was going to continue.

I had to lay there and endure the ongoing assault on my bottom, losing track of how many times she used the syringe on me, as I felt my bowels fill to near capacity. When I complained of being full she told me that I needed to try and take just a little bit more, and she was afraid that if I let it out now the enema might might not be effective and if that was the case we would have to start all over again. I knew that she was determined to force every last drop of the solution into me. After a couple of more syringefuls I looked at the bowl and saw that it was almost empty. I watched as she sucked the last of the soapy water into the syringe and took a deep breath, knowing that we were about done. She stuck the syringe up inside of me one last time and squeezed the bulb as hard as she could, forcing the solution up into my bowels as far as possible.

When she pulled the syringe from my bottom she squeezed my butt cheeks together to help me hold it in. I told her I had to go, but she told me I had to hold it in long enough to let the enema do it's job. She said the Ivory soap had to have time to work on me if the enema was going to effectively clean me out. I lay on the floor in agony as the enema churned in my bowels. After a few minutes she placed me on the toilet and let me evacuate my bowels. All the soapy water and the shit that has been inside of me came roaring out. As the last of the enema dribbled from my ass, she wiped my bottom and looked in the bowel. She proclaimed the enema a success, apparently satisfied that she had made me move my bowels. I watched as she filled the bowl with plain water, knowing that I would have to endure a second syringing. She believed that an enema wasn't complete until she rinsed the Ivory soap from my bowels.

After enduring another bowl full of water being squirted up my bottom I was allowed to expel. As the plain water poured from my ass I watched her clean things up, rinse out the syringe and finally putting it away in the cabinet. Only then was I certain that my ordeal was over. She said she knew I didn't like getting syringed and and that if didn't want the syringe used on me in the future that I needed to keep myself regular. She warned me that if I got constipated again that she would be forced to use the syringe on me. Unfortunately, I failed to heed her advice and this procedure was repeated many more times. She was a firm believer in the power of the syringe and never hesitated to put it to use when she deemed necessary.

“Mom how come you called grandma to come over and told Terri to go watch tv at grandma's?"

“Grandma is coming over to help me give you an enema. You haven't gone to the toilet in 2 days.”

When she came in, I was told to undress and lay down in the tub after peeing. Mom was at the kitchen sink fixing the enema. I wanted to resist, but knew I'd get spanked if I did.

Grandma held the enema bag while mom put the nozzle in my bum.

Every time I got spanked I got an enema. Usually over the knee. When I was pretty small it was a bulb but quickly got moved up to the 2 quart bag. So usually around 2 times a week I was taken in my bedroom (if I was spanked in another room I was still taken to my bedroom) and put over my father knee. It was part of life. I remember it hurting and crying. But my father didn't take any excuses and made me take it. This went on until I was 17. I went to live with other family at 14 but they would give me enemas and even called him to help “Deal” with me a few times.

I remember some otk by my mom with a higginson. Some were on the floor in front of the toilet with a bag hanging from the towel bar also with the Higginson. Later ones were on the bed knee-chest with the bag (no higginson). All were ivory soapsuds. Mom liked to fill me completely so I wasn't a happy camper.. Felt good when it was all over.

Always in the bathroom and over mom's knee, when younger with a red bulb syringe, older an open top Davol enema bag!

It was mom, and only mom, that administered my childhood enemas, and always in the bathroom, and always totally naked. Always warm (sometimes too warm) and soapy (Ivory). The 8 oz. bulb was use from infancy through about 6 or 7, when I was introduced to the family fountain syringe. For the majority my bulb enemas I would lay over the closed toilet seat that was covered with a towel and mom would sit behind me on a low stool. A few bulb enemas were given to me in the bathtub, on my knees, head down, while the water was draining out after an evening bath. Initially I would receive one bulbfull, expel and then get a second bulbfull. As I got older I was given 2 bulbs before being allowed to expel, and then a second round of 2 more.

Bag enemas were initially given in the same over-the-toilet position, with mom sitting behind me holding the nozzle in to the hilt while filling me. Administered in pairs like the bulb enemas, a second fill was always required. And as I approached my teen years, positions changed to bending over the side of the tub and finally laying on a towel on the floor, either on my side or back.

4 oz. bulbs at first with a shorted tapered kid's nozzle, then an 8 ouncer / adult one. Both with Mom's soapy Ivory solution.

First bag enema was around 9-10, and seeing the big bag hanging, literally scared the shit out of me. This one really filled me up.

I was never given any enemas as a child.

I started by myself at 17. I moved out at 18 and have been enema active my adult life. Solo always but I still love hot wet enema play❤🚀😜

My moms best friend was a nurse and i heard them talking about children enemas. My momm said she was going to take me to so and so, can’t remember her name. Anyway my mom the next morning said she had an appointment to take me to a nurse who,was going to give me an enema and told me enemas were good for me according to her friend. So we arrived at an older home in Detroit after ringing the doorbell a woman around 45, older than my mom, dressed in a nurse uniform with a nurse hat answered and invited us in. She showed me to the room and told me to totally undress and to lay on the table. a minute later she walked in with mom and showed me the enema can, long tube and a nozzle then explained what would occur. She said it may not be comfortable especially when she was going to put lube in my butt she had me spread my legs wide open with feet flat on the table and knees bent. She they showed me the Vaseline and with her gloved finger, spread my little butt and eventually had her middle finger deep into mylittle butt I was squirming from being very uncomfortable and embarrassed since she was the First Lady stranger to see me nude then she put in the nozzle and held the enema can up high my mom was there to help,as needed

no enemas at home ever. But I did go back to the nurse with my mom about every 6 months until I was about 16. After about 14: my mom did not come into the exam room with me. When I was older I felt the enema got me somewhat excited and felt great, including the nurse still inserting her lubed finger deep into my butt. Actually, my very last one the nurse said she was going to wipe my penis since I was leaking a little fluid. She said not o worry, that older men and younger boys going into puberty can drip a,little since the enema is putting pressure on an organ called the prostate which is where this fluid is and that is totally normal. This is what got me interest as an adult later in life with enemas

It was always in my Mom's bathroom.

I had to bend over while she greased my rectum and the douche nozzle. She adjusted the nozzle around until it was “seated”.

Then Mom had me sit on the toilet seat and held up the bag in one hand and the hose and clamp in the other. She clicked the clamp on and made me take A LOT of hot soapsuds. She raised the bag up and down. I had to sit there and hold it. Then she would give me more (click, click) on and off. When the bag was finished, she took the douche nozzle out *and I had to expel in front of her*. She had me stand up and examine the contents in the potty. I usually had to take a couple of enemas at a session.

@Moms_Egirl poor thing. It's amazing that today you like enemas xoxo

@Moms_Egirl poor thing. It's amazing that today you like enemas xoxo

Agree - amazing that after all of that you've come to like enemas. Curious if you don't mind my asking, was there any conversation taking place between you and your mom during those enemas you were getting?

Curious if you don't mind my asking, was there any conversation taking place between you and your mom during those enemas you were getting? I ask because I was always very silent when my father giving me my enemas… I would think to myself, that I was not going to let the enema have it way with me and make me poop..

@reddevil No conversation except ME telling HER it was too hot, too soapy, my stomach hurt and I couldn't take anymore! Then when I got to stand up and she took out the long nozzle, I started pooping and farting uncontrollably. I was so embarrassed because she sat on the rim of the bathtub while I was expelling. She always looked at my results before letting me flush. And, I remember she always took an enema after I was finished in the bathroom.

@Moms_Egirl poor thing. It's amazing that today you like enemas xoxo

@eeetime Later on, Mom's and sometimes my Grandma's enemas made me feel good leading to climax later, made me a klismo and I started wanting them!

@Moms_Egirl,

It was always in my Mom's bathroom.

I had to bend over while she greased my rectum and the douche nozzle. She adjusted the nozzle around until it was “seated”.

Then Mom had me sit on the toilet seat and held up the bag in one hand and the hose and clamp in the other. She clicked the clamp on and made me take A LOT of hot soapsuds. She raised the bag up and down. I had to sit there and hold it. Then she would give me more (click, click) on and off. When the bag was finished, she took the douche nozzle out *and I had to expel in front of her*. She had me stand up and examine the contents in the potty. I usually had to take two or three enemas at a session.

that was just how my high school girlfriend was given enemas. Seated on the toilet, bag held high, hot soapy water pouring in, crying, begging for it to stop. It took me quite a while to get her to realize that, although they were sometimes uncomfortable, they also were not bad, and had other “pleasant side effects…” The main difference is that I think she got only one enema at a time from her Mom. I usually gave her several much smaller ones prior to her period, during it, or when she was constipated. She actually asked me for her first one, which astonished me…

@Doctorh3e WOW! All these years, I thought I was the only one who got enemas that way, sitting on the toilet with Mom holding the bag. The only “positive” to my enemas was that it got to be very stimulating and eventually brought me to climax sitting right there on the toilet.

I hope your girlfriend got those good kind of feelings from your enema admistration!

@Moms_Egirl , I think she was OK with them, but hadn't yet completley learned to love them. I always gave them to her on her bed, usually knee chest, so they were not nearly as uncomfortable for her. She LOVED anal sex, though, and orgasmed from it. She was the one who suggested anal, so I have my suspicions that her enema fears were going away. We did almost exclusively anal, because anal is a great birth control method, & we were resolved that no pregnancies were to occur. We both enjoyed anal a lot (I was never the recipient), so that was great. I do wish I had told her that I liked enemas. I'm sure she would have enjoyed “returning the favor.” Missed opportunities...😢 At the time I was a very “in the closet” klismo.

A question: when (age) did your Mom stop giving you enemas?

At home my siblings an I got enemas from mom laying across our bed together. In the beginning, she had us laying face down with our feet hanging off the side of the bed. However, she put us on our backs a few times an as we got older, we preferred laying face up with our feet pulled back touching our bare bottoms. When she told us, “go to your room and get things ready, I need to give y’all a couple of enemas.” We laid our towels across the bed, then we’d lay face up, rather than laying face down on our stomachs. She did made us turn back over on our stomachs from time to time, especially if she took our temperatures first. Until age ten, our temperature was always taken rectally, hence being made to rollover on our stomachs. Around age nine or ten, she moved us from the bedroom to the bathroom for our enemas. In the bathroom, she put towels down on the floor for us to get on, while in the knee chest position. Once bathroom enemas had become routine, she started letting us help give each other enemas. It started first with our sister helping, then my brother an I.

During our yearly summer visit with grandma for four to six weeks. Whenever we received enemas, they were for the most part, private affairs in grandmas large downstairs bathroom. But not always, especially at bath time in the evening when we would sometimes be given enemas together. Normally, grandma would take us privately to her bathroom an give us a couple of enemas laying across her lap, but as we got older, she had one of moms teenage sisters do it. When we were given enemas in the evening before our baths, grandma would tell both girls to do it together in the large downstairs bathroom. Telling them, “once you’re finished taking care of the kids enemas and shower. You’re to do likewise.” Quite frankly, I believe grandma was letting her two teenage daughters give us enemas on evenings she knew they would be doing enemas together, whether we needed a couple of enemas or not. I also know, grandma was aware my siblings an I liked taking enemas, as much as her two teenage girls liked giving us and themselves enemas. I have no idea if that was the reason or not, but I strongly suspect it was. Anyway, once the girls had us in the bathroom, they told my siblings an I to get undressed, as they did likewise. Once we’re all undressed, they got an enema bag out of the linen closet along with the other things they’d need. As one girl fixed a soapy enema, the other sat down and put one of us across her bare lap. Once on her lap, she lubricated our anus inside an out with her index finger. By this time, the soapy enema was finished, her sister handing her the nozzle and hanging the bag up. Then she replaced her finger with the adult rectal nozzle and stated the flow. Holding the nozzle in place with one hand, while rubbing our back and bottom with the other until we’re allowed to get up. Once the enema was in, we had to hold each enema for at least five minutes before releasing. This was the routine for both soapy and salt and baking soda rinse enemas until we’d each received one of each. As we got older, our position changed from across their lap to the knee chest position. They also changed the adult rectal nozzle to a long curved douche nozzle, which stayed in place much better. When the enemas were finished, as one girl cleaned the enema bag and nozzle. The other girl got in the large shower with us, bathing us in turn. As she finished bathing the first one and they got out. The other girl was ready with a towel for the first out. Then it was on to the next one, until we’re all finished. Once dry, they told us, “get your clean underwear on and get ready for bed.” While that was going on, the girl who bathed us, was out of the shower drying herself. Once finished, she picked up the enema bag her sister had just cleaned and fixed another soapy enema. While the girl who had dried us off, spread towels on the bathroom floor. The first time we saw them doing this, we asked about it and they replied, “mom told us we need a couple of enemas, just like you guys.” Then we asked, “can we stay watch.” And they replied, “no, you’ve seen each other getting enemas. You don’t need to watch us, besides, it’s past your bedtime.” Then one of the girls wraps a towel around herself and takes us to our bedroom. Making sure we’re all in bed before returning to the bathroom and their enemas an a shower.

The summer I turned nine, grandma switched us from laying across her lap, to getting enemas in the knee chest position. By this age, my brother an I got a hard-on every time we got an enema. An our evening enemas an a shower were generally done by moms teenage sisters. Like us, they were both nude and didn’t miss feeling our hard-on against their bare legs. And my brother an I didn’t miss feeling their bare legs against our penis. They never said anything about it, and neither did we. But that was the year things got changed. We often wondered if they said anything to grandma about it. But knowing those two girls, I personally doubt it, however we’ll never know for sure.

A year or so, before moms youngest sister passed away, we had a conversation about those long ago days growing up and this was one of the many topics we discussed that day. At the same time she switched our position, she also switched the adult rectal nozzle, to a curved douche nozzle. This coincided with our first 3H enemas from our RN grandmother using a long colon tube. A few days after grandmas first 3H enemas, when the girls took us to the downstairs bathroom for enemas an a shower, the routine changed. We were expecting to get enemas laying across their lap and were surprised to see them putting towels down on the floor an a curved douche nozzle on the enema hose. Once the towels were in place and the enema bag hung up. I was told to get down in the knee chest position as my brother and sister watched. Then one of the girls lubricated my anus with her index finger before inserting the douche nozzle and starting the flow. Once the flow was started, things went as they normally did until we were out of the shower. Afterwards, both grandma and moms sisters gave us enemas in the knee chest position using a curved douche nozzle, whether it was done privately or together in the evenings. That was the first year, I realized my siblings an I were getting more enemas at grandmas, than we were at home. I suspect there were a couple of reasons for it. First, moms teenage sisters liked giving themselves and us (my siblings an I) enemas, using every opportunity they got. Second, that was the year mom complained to grandma, that we’d been getting more constipated than usual. Giving her sisters the opportunity to give us and themselves enemas on a regular basis in the evening before our baths. This routine continuing in the coming years during every summer visit afterwards.

The next summer when I turned ten, I finally took a two quart rinse enema without stopping. It happened during one of those evening enema an a shower sessions with my siblings and both girls present. It just so happened, the same evening I took a two quart enema, though a year younger, my brother did as well. Then two years later as preteens, our RN grandmother taught us personal hygiene an enemas became our personal responsibility.

In my bed or my mothers bed , face down legs together. Thermometer was removed ,the colon tube was was gently inserted

about six inches. The enema bag was hung low. Then came the click and the hot soapy water started flowing in to me.

after I had the enema inside me the clamp was closed ,the tube was held in place for about ten minutes. That’s when

usually wet my self. It felt so good.

I got them while seated on the toilet. I was told that I would be getting an enema and to head to Moms bathroom. Had to completely undress and sit on the toilet. Mom used a 2 quart bag filled full of warm, soapy water. I had to lean forward as far as possible. She would spread my butt cheeks apart right near my butthole and insert the Vaseline lubricated douche nozzle into me. I could then sit upright while the soapy contents filled me. I had to expel with her in the bathroom. Usually she was satisfied with just giving me one enema.

When I was transitioned from the bulb to bag enemas at 5, I was given enemas in the bathtub. I was naked, on my back laying on a towel. My mother hung the bag from a towel bar over the tub, knelt beside the tub and raised my legs to insert the nozzle. She usually held my legs back with one hand and kept the nozzle inserted to the hilt with the other. On occasion, my grandmother or once, the maid helped. I was always making a fuss, and at times could not hold the water. My mother and grandparents believed in the policy of “ give him a little bit more” as the way to a successful cleaning of my bowels

Grew up through the 70s and 80s. To the best of my recollection, I never received an enema before I got out on my own. Didn't buy my first bag until I was into my 30s.

I can only remember my first enemas from about the age of five. The ones I probably received earlier lie hidden in the mists of history. My mother was the master of bulbs, bags, nozzles and enema solutions. I always received my enemas in the same position; Knees-elbows, upper body low, so that gravity gains as the liquid enters; and I always had to absorb a cloudy soapy solution.

…with two exceptions; the mother of a friend gave me enemas of a different kind. I was about 8 then. I wasn't aware at the time that they shaped my later behavior.

Tea blends were placed in my colon with so much gentleness that I thought I was in another world.

Unfortunately, I continued to endure my mother's soap enemas until I was 11 or 12; only with the difference that at some point they found their way inside me with an irrigator, rubber bag and rubber colon tubes.

I explained in an earlier post how my first enemas were given to me by my Mother.. When I reached age 8 or 9, Mother switched from the small bulb to a Rexall Victoria Combination syringe. As before, she would have me kneel in front of the toilet and maintain the knee chest position while she still either sat on the edge of the tub or on the toilet lid itself. She would lubricate the nozzle with Vaseline and then rub a dab of the stuff onto my little bootie hole. Occasionally, Mom would slip her lubricated finger into my rectum and twist her finger from right to left. When she was satisfied that the hole was ready for the nozzle, she’d insert the nozzle, pat me on the hip and ask me if I was ready for my enema.. after I said that I was, she’d open the tube’s shut-off and my enema would begin. Mom would hold the nozzle in my rectum with one hand and rub my stomach and back with the other. She’d talk to me as the enema filled my body. Once the enema was all in me, she’d take the nozzle out of my rectum, take down the bag and place it along with the tubing into the sink. She’d tell me to remain in the knee chest position till she came back, usually 5 to 10 minutes, at which time I was told to get up and expel the enema.