Strict Moms when doing enemas

How strict was your mom when giving enemas , was leaking enema solution a Huge No-No , was not taking a full 2 quarts simply unacceptable and not tolerated and were you lucky enough to be on a strict weekly enema schedule like it or not

Mother {not mommy or mom } Used enemas for Compleat control . I was not told that I was going to get an enema , I was told “go to you're room” I knew I had to go to my room , remove all my clothes , and sit on my bed and wait . And wait . And wait .I had better not be playing or reading when she came in . Had to lay across the bed , on my back , legs up , knees to my chest when she came in with a towel and the bag . I had better not say a word . Better not cry . She always used the largest nozzle and no lube . Yes it hurt . She meant it to hurt so that if I said anything or complained she would have an excuse to whip me . She would “walk” me to the bathroom . When I was done I would get the finger in me to see if I would get another . All most always I got a second . Or even a third . And people wondered why i ran away from home so often .

I was sticking things up my but from 3 years old on. I would have loved to have had that when I was younger

My Mom was fairly strict. When she decided I needed an enema there was no getting out of it and she insisted I take the full amount that was in the bag, starting with a pint at 4 years old and gradually increasing to the full 2 quarts at 22 years old. She wouldn't stop the flow no matter how much I complained that I couldn't take any more. She just told me to take slow deep breaths through my mouth to ease the cramps and she squeezed my buttocks together tightly so that the enema wouldn't leak out. When it was all in me she would force me to hold it for a full 5 minutes or sometimes 10 minutes if it was a second enema after the results of the first one didn't satisfy her. She timed the retention with a kitchen timer. I fought, resisted and cried when I was younger but by the time I was about 10 I stopped resisting and just started to accept it to get it over with because I was going to get the enema regardless of how I felt about it.

My mom was quite strict, and I'm sure the cold bathtub was the result of some leaks, that likely resulted from an abundance of solution. She didn't have a strict enema schedule for me, but the strict adherence to daily BM's would influence the frequency of a date with her and the enema bag.

When I was a tad older (6 on), my own strict enema schedule was adhered to whenever I had the opportunity to self indulge. The only criteria was anytime I was in the shower or tub and the enema bag was staring at me, daring me to make love to it. I always wondered if mom realized she had been replaced as my regular enema giver!

I got my enemas / “ the spritz ” over her lap or bent over while she sat on the toilet with the bulb or bag. I was always instructed to hold my water getting what “ she thought ” was the right amount. Needless to say, I sometimes leaked even after I said that I was full, and needed to go. When this happened, it almost always ended up getting another, and after she inspected my contents. Maybe a 3rd until clear, especially when sick / home from school.

Yes.. Mom was strict with me on these.

I would have loved to have been over my mom's lap for an enema. Or any girls lap for that matter. Plus, I would be happy to return the favor! I asked my mom for a enema one time, she handed me a full bag with the douche nozzle on the end. I had to give it to myself.

I wouldn't say strict as such, still caring manor but she certainly didn't entertain idea of getting out of it.

I'm not sure what you mean by strict, but when she decided that it was enema time there was no amount of fussing, crying, or complaining that would change her mind. My guess was that she had only made no more than a quart although at the time it seemed like gallons. I would take what was in the bag but even after she shut the clamp I would be held over her lap for a few minutes as it worked but the hose still up my butt. Just about the time I thought I would explode she would take it out and let me sit on the potty. That is when the enema came really exploding out of me. She was strict in that the process had to be followed and I guess that is why all of her enemas worked so well even if I was not exactly a fan of them.

My mother was very professional and caring when administering an enema but I was expected to take it.

My mother was very professional and caring when administering an enema but I was expected to take it.

I had the same. I didn't get enemas regularly. When I was constipated and other measures were not working, my mother decided that I would get an enema. There was no discussion or negotiation. It was just that my mother informed me that I would get a enema and began to prepare. After a while, she would come to my room with a bulb, a container of water, petroleum jelly, and rubber gloves. My mother filled the bulb with water and put on gloves, and told me to take off my pants and panties.

Wonder if there is a similar thread “Strict Dads Doing Enemas” - perhaps this thread could be broadened to “Strict Parents Giving Enemas”…. okay, just a thought. I got all my enemas from my dad, but it was my mom who would call out “any luck yet?” when I was sitting for too long, and that pronouncement meant time for his enema..

Mom just followed doc orders??/

Mom was strict on the enema schedule not only weekly but every 3 days if you had not pooped on your own. The weekly enema was mandatory but the day you got it kind of rotated according to her schedule to when it was convenient for her to administer it. Leaking was not allowed and if it happened it usually meant starting over. The really strict rule was holding it until she said it was okay to release.

Unfortanetely my mom wasnt strict at all. She gave me generally just a small disposable enema after a long discussiion and too late. Always after six days or more I was constipated.

I also could did a scene. She squezzed it while I was standing in bath room or bent on the toilet.

Just one time I remember I got a huge enema bag at home lyed on bed.

Just one time she threatened me if I didnt agree for the small disposable enema I need to get a huge one in any case.

The treatments in hospital with a few enemas a dozen time were very strict although the nurses were friendly.

But not at home. One time I was already a teen my mom suggest to say to a nurses I would get sometimes still an enema. The nurse adviced my mom with my special needs as a teen. I regret I havent suggest to receive enemas from her but I was too shy.

Made to take full bag and hold for 5 mins or the whole process began again.

My mother was very caring and she knew what she was doing in giving me enemas. With that said, she was also very strict in that she determined when I would get an enema, what amount I would be given, what position she wanted me in, etc. I had no say in the matter and no amount of protesting would change a thing.

Janet S

Mom was gentle…..but firm. Oh I complained, cried and fussed about the warm soapsuds making my tummy ache and pleading that she “stop it” and “take it out!”….but she dutifully persisted giving me the enema until finished trying to calm me by telling me to “pant like a puppy". Bless her heart- gotta love mom. Grandma- on the other hand- was strictly business- no nonsense when it came to giving me enemas. She made my enema larger, warmer and soapier than mom did. She would accept nothing less than total compliance and acceptance and absolutely no fussing. Grandma would give me much more than mom from an enema held-up much higher. Grandma would always measure my progress by remarking at how much my tummy distended and was made swollen by the warm soapsuds. “There you go, Michael. Looking at your tummy you should know now what it should feel like to be getting a good enema….” https://en.zity.biz/gallery/image/16551

Mm was quite strict. You had to hold your enema and let it work.

My mom was firm but never mean. I knew from as long as I can remember that Friday night after supper I was going to get my weekly enema, and most likely at least one rinse if not sometimes 2. There was no need to fuss or complain about it unless I wanted a strong dose of her hairbrush on my bare butt. Like a lot of people here, always totally undressed and face down with bottom up after I turned 12. Prior to that it was usually on my tummy or over her lap.

Mom was always firm with my brother and I about our weekly enemas but very gentle. She did sometimes humiliate my brother if he got an erection ….which fascinated me obviously!

I wasn’t on a strict schedule but Mom was strict when the time came for a clean out. I had to be completely undressed, take the full 2 quarts and I was not allowed to look at the bag during my enema. Then I had to hold it for several minutes so the soapy water could “do it’s job” as Mom put it. She would stay as the expulsion began to be sure I received the cleaning out she expected.

I guess mom was kinda strict about enemas, up until the time I learned to relax and accept the discomfort of those warm soapy cleanses. Initially when I was little I would fuss, cry and complain but all it took was for her to say “do I need to go and get the belt?” and the fussing stopped. We were all taught from infancy that enemas were a regular occurrence in our house and that being cleaned out was just a part of growing up back then.

I cannot say that my mom was strict. However, when she made up her mind that one of us was going to get an enema there was no turning back either. My brother and I learned early on that we could complain but there was to be no fussing. As I got older it was beginning to dawn om me that an enema was beneficial and I greatly lowered the moaning and groaning. At a younger age she would just tell me to change my clothes and get into the bathroom, but later on she was a lot softer about things and would say, “You would probably feel bit better if I could give you an enema. Would you be good enough to take one for me?” Of course I responded with an “OK” and soon would be on the receiving end of some amount of warm soapy water.

To quote Shakespeare: “though she be but little she is fierce” about sums up my mother's attitude about giving enemas. She broached no disobedience or resistance. Once she determined you needed a ‘good enema’ you were getting it. Physically she was shorter than any of her children by the time we were 12, but her word was always law. She was a hard-working, widowed mother and had little tolerance for argument.

Once she made the pronouncement that “I think a good enema would help” you just resigned and went to the upstairs bathroom and waited for her to show up with the old red bag and the Pond's Cold Cream. Once an enema started, she was gentle but fixed on the goal that you should take all of the solution in the bag. If you did not, it would be refilled, and you started again. She did not enforce holding times - and I often fled for the toilet as soon as the bag was empty, and I was full!

If she determined a second enema was in order, it happened.

I often fled for the toilet as soon as the bag was empty, and I was full!

A very apt description of the way things worked and still do! While I might have felt full, I wasn't unless the bag was nearly flat. At that point it would not have been a good idea to stand in my way.

I learned early not to kick and scream going into the bathroom an enema was better than a spanking and an enema. Funny it took years to learn that lesson? 😃

Jeez, @jecklylldoctor, Shakespeare!!??!! I;m impressed. ;-)

According to which criteria and standards do children rate their parents as "strict"? This is mostly due to the current situation and is therefore often seen subjectively. At the end of the day, most parents only want the best for their kids. My parents were cut from this stuff.

I would like to say all this in advance, despite the fact that I often saw certain situations differently at the time. There was still life outside of the enemas administered. On this topic we are talking about strict mothers, when doig enemas; which does not mean that strict and disciplined given colonic irrigation automatically means that one did not have lovable parents.

My mother gave me the enemas firmly and mercilessly from my point of view at the time. Attempts to discuss it have always been an unsuccessful endeavor. Through her hands, all the bulbs, nozzles and rubber colon tubes found their way unerringly into my butt to transport the water load into me.

She was acutely aware of my dislike, even hatred, of enemas, which she used in her decision to punish misconduct. There was practically no basis for negotiation. If she had decided to do an enema, the execution followed immediately.

Otherwise she was a caring mother. If I hadn't received enemas before, I don't know if I would be writing about enemas at such a late hour at Zity now; probably not.

So in hindsight I have to be grateful to her for every enema I received.

I don't know about strict but if my Mom said I was going to get an enema, I knew I would get one. Protesting was useless. It was clothes off, head down and butt up. This became a routine every Saturday night until I was about eleven. I still remember the cramps from the soapsuds in the two quart red bag. At the time, I didn't like the cramping but now I love a strong cramping enema.