At what age did your mother finally catch on that your enemas were more than a health precaution? And what did she do? Well, I used to get bulb enemas infrequently from about age 7 to 12 when Mom decided to “upgrade” me to the 2 quart red bag. These were administered in the bathroom whenever she determined I needed one, as when I was lethargic or came home with a note from the nurse that I had been excused from gym due to stomach issues. Not all that often but I was informed, not asked if I needed one. Early on, these were given after a public announcement so that my older sister would be be aware of the consequences of not eating right. More than once she teased me about them but I'm not sure she ever received them herself. My mother would always start out by explaining the process (as if I couldn't recite it by heart), then have me watch as she prepared the soapy solution in warm water. Before she inserted the bulb nozzle, she would never fail to give me the Vaseline finger blockage check, probing as deeply as her finger would reach. I put up with this embarrassment as a part of her routine but was in no way aroused by it…until I reached 12. Around that time I started getting the red bag and closer to 2 full quarts, but she cut out the soap, perhaps in favor of being able to fill me further with just warm water.Those rectal probings began to feel more interesting too. In her efforts to make sure I had no blockage she could detect, she was quite thorough and I would squirm as she worked. One one occasion, she caught a peek of what I'd been trying desperately to hide, my growing stiffy. I thought she might have missed it when my robe flapped open until she started counseling me about erections and that they were completely normal at times like these and were not to be cause for any embarrassment whatsoever. Didn't help. To make matters worse, the more water I took, the firmer I got until it was quiet obvious that my body was enjoying enemas. She took it in stride but after a couple of those episodes, she started asking me in a whispering voice, even though there would be no one home, if I thought I might need a warm tummy filling, to which I always replied, “Yes please." She knew she had me hooked and played me like a master. Sometimes, off we'd go to the bathroom, but other times she'd say something like, “How about tomorrow afternoon after school, we'll have more time then.” Pretty sure she'd dangle me like this just to see the dejected look on my face. Then she'd wink. The first time she ever did that I was sure it wasn't a wink but she did it more than once and there was no mistaking she was looking forward to a session as much as I was. The probings became longer and she'd keep up a narrative about her own early enemas, knowing and enjoying exactly what they were doing to me. The more I squirmed and tried to hide my situation, the more the she'd lecture on how we should have no more secrets between us, no embarrassment about natural, normal happenings. Seeing that this little chat had no effect on my continued squirming, she withdrew her finger, inserted the nozzle and flipped open the clamp. As water surged in, she instructed me to stand and face her. In a no-nonsense tone she told me that she was NOT going to close off the clamp until I voluntarily opened my robe to her and got over all this prudishness. I was in shock. She was not kidding and there was no escaping the situation. I held out as long as my bowels could take it. Then finally relented and parted my robe to reveal my most private parts. I was made to stand there on display in silence for a complete minute while the full measure of my embarrassment about that uncontrollable erection at last subsided. “There, there, that wasn't so bad now, was it?” she whispered. Actually, I felt much more at ease, like a weight of over modesty had been lifted. Then she did something even more unexpected. She leaned forward and gently caressed my erection. I remember her voice and touch were so compelling I don't think I even pulled back, just stood there for her. She smiled and told me what a good boy I was. All I could do was hug her.Not too many sessions after that one, the enemas abruptly ended as family dynamics changed and time and privacy prevented us from exploring the wonderful bond we had forged.