Saturday Night

When I was a young child, and that was a year of three ago, Saturday night was enema night. Out came the four ounce squeeze bulb and the filling cup and I was over my mother's knee, OTK. Then it was enemas until clear! All of my pleading and cramps made no difference as she lost count.

Now! I wonder if any of you make Saturday night, or any night, special for yourself or your kids in this way?

For me, Saturday night and every night is gallon night because an enema a day keeps the Doctor away!

Never had a fixed schedule. Usually several times a year though.

Sundays were a common day because that was when Dad didn't have to work if he didn't sign up, or worked 3-8 PM and I could recover in time for school the next morning.

Growing up, we had a regular schedule: Wednesday after dinner and Saturday morning after breakfast. However, with three adult female klismos in the house, there were plenty of unscheduled enemas. There were always excuses (You loo piqued. You look like you don't feel good. I think you need a good cleaning out.), but Lisa and I knew that the REAL reason was “I want to give you an enema just because I enjoy giving you enemas.” Neither of us hated the enemas; in fact, our reactions went from “OK, another enema.” when we were small to “WOW! another enema, I hope it'll be two or three!” as we reached puberty. By then, we were giving to each other, and it was not unusual for us to receive from the adults or give to each other seven or eight SSE's each week. Actually, until Lisa's death this spring, I cannot recall have a normal BM. Come to think of it, I've actually had to self administer an enema or use several bisacodyl suppositories to get one now. Still hoping to find a female enema partner: solo is lonely and no fun!

Every Saturday night (or day) plus every Wednesday was enema time for me.

We didn't have a fixed schedule and enemas were given whenever mom thought that they were needed. Most of the time this was during the evening and the day of the week didn't matter. She had a sixth sense for when we were not sufficiently regular in our bowel habits. Otherwise whenever we were sick and especially if home from school.

A living arrangement where enemas are received or exchanged on a weekly or biweekly basis is such a huge fantasy of mine. I think I would be living in a near constant state of bliss having that much excitement and anticipation in my life. It would really make me feel loved and wanted down to my very core. Even the idea of having enough privacy to give myself enemas at a regularly scheduled interval is extremely exciting to me.

If I stayed home from school, you could be that the enema bag was coming. I hated that in the beginning, but one day began secretly loving it. Mom would always come and rub my back, that's how I know I was going to get an enema. If I didn't stay home from school then I would generally get an enema on Sunday morning.

We didn't have a ‘regular day’ like Saturday, but, as enerob said, you never wanted to be sick in my house. Everyone knew that meant enemas as soon as Dad left and the others went to school. You got a big soapy bag or two in mid-morning, and then usually another one in the afternoon before the rest of the kids came home. They arrived as went looking to see the big red bag and then came into the bedroom to laugh at you. If mom heard, that might mean an enema for the culprit as well.

As an aside, it also often meant one for dad in the late evening when he and mom had gone to their bedroom. She had another bag only they used, and often.

Every Saturday night (or day) plus every Wednesday was enema time for me.

This reminds me of my grandmother who gave her kids in the depression era an enema every Saturday night come hell or high water. She was the one who badgered my mom into giving them to her kids making me the kinky devil I am today.