My siblings and I were lucky that mom gave us enemas together, starting at an early age. We watch each other getting enemas in the bedroom at home or the bathroom at grandmas. There were times when we got enemas in private at home or grandmas, but for the most part, we got enemas together. Getting an enema as your siblings are watching, then watching your siblings get enemas, was exciting and scary at the same time. It let us know we weren’t alone. Besides, my siblings and I were anal erotic, we liked feeling something in our anus. Especially, when it was moving around, it really felt good. But at the same time, there was something about it, we didn’t understand. It felt naughty, but at the same time, it felt natural. It’s difficult to explain. Plus, there was something about getting enemas we didn’t understand. Again, it’s difficult to explain. There was something inside us that kept us quiet about being given enemas. The problem was the enema bag always hung in the bathroom at home. It wasn’t any different at our friend's homes. Whenever we used a bathroom, there was an enema bag, reminding us of what it's for. We slowly learned over time, our friends got enemas just like we did, making it easier to talk about enemas amongst our trusted friends. We learned who liked enemas and who detested them. Who was anal erotic and who wasn’t. Sometimes, it wasn’t what they said, it was what they didn’t say that gave them away. Especially if they had siblings who talked.
Another thing that helped was sharing a bedroom until our mid to late teens. We shared a bedroom at home, because our parent's house only had two bedrooms and one bath. We shared a bedroom at grandmas, because we shared a bedroom at home and that’s how mom and grandma want it. We saw each other nude most every day, so nudity wasn’t an issue. Moms two younger sisters shared a bedroom as well, and they let us sleep with them occasionally. Hence, nudity between us and our teenage aunts wasn’t an issue either. In fact, grandma had delegated the responsibility of our evening baths to the two girls. Grandma's large downstairs bathroom had a linen closet, a long-padded bench along one wall, two vanities, a toilet, and a walk-in shower equipped with two shower heads. So, when we stayed at grandmas, the girls were responsible for our evening bath. They got undressed just like we did, because the shower was large enough for the girls to get in the shower with us. So, on evenings when grandma had the girls give us a couple of enemas before our shower. The girls were already naked, because after the enemas, they got in the shower with us as usual. We got to watch each other, as we got enemas laying nude across one of the girls laps when younger or later in the knee chest position as we got older.
The summer I turned ten, the girls had given us a couple of enemas at bath time, then we’d been put to bed. As it happens sometimes after an enema, I needed to use the toilet again and got up and went to the bathroom. The bathroom door was pulled too, but not closed, so I walked in. Both girls were nude, not an issue. The younger of the two girls was in the knee chest position getting an enema, again, not an issue. The issue was, I walked in the bathroom without knocking first. Once I’d used the toilet, the older of the two girls, gave me a spanking laying nude across her bare lap. It was the longest and hardest hand spanking I had ever received. And boy, was my bottom sore afterwards. After the spanking, she gave me another enema in the knee chest position to help me calm down. I was beside her sister, who was also in the knee chest position, ready for her second enema of the evening. She started my enema first, then her sisters. Once I held the two-quart enema for five minutes, I was allowed to use the toilet and return to bed.
The next evening, I was taken to the downstairs bathroom by the younger girl for enemas and a shower. While the older girl took my two siblings to the upstairs bathroom for enemas and a shower. I knew instantly what was going to happen when my siblings were taken upstairs. I was going to get another spanking, this time from my younger aunt, and my bottom was still sore from the previous evenings spanking. Once in the bathroom, we both got undressed as usual. She fixed my soapy enema and hung it up, then sat down and said, “I think you know what’s coming next.” As I started to cry, I said, “Please don’t spank me.” She paused a moment, then told me, “I’m sorry. Lay down across my lap.” I did as I was told, and once in position, she pinned my hands behind my back. Then told me, “I feel like you’ve been punished enough for not knocking last night, but grandma hasn’t given me a choice.” Then it started. She spanked me as long as her sister did the previous evening, maybe a little longer, but every bit as hard. The worst part was, I was still sore from her sisters spanking and the longer she spanked me, the more it stung. Until finally, it was stinging like fire. It felt like she was using a hairbrush, when she finally stopped, but it was only her hand. Boy, talk about a sore bottom. Afterwards, it was back to the normal routine of a couple of enemas in the knee chest position, then in the shower together for a bath. Once we were out of the shower and dried off, she had me lay back down across her bare lap, then started rubbing lotion on my sore bottom to help get the sting out. I was across her bare lap for a good fifteen or twenty minutes as she kept rubbing my sore bottom with lotion. As the sting came out, I started getting a hard-on, ending the session. It did help a little, because I wasn’t as sore the next morning, but I still had to sleep on my stomach for a couple of nights. This was also one of the few times I got a couple of enemas in private from the younger of the two girls.
A couple of days later while my siblings were busy with her older sister, the younger girl came and took me back to the bathroom. Once there, the first thing I noticed was the enema bag hanging on the wall, not in the shower where it normally stayed. She had me remove my jeans and underwear and lay down across her lap. When I was in position, she started rubbing my bottom again with lotion. While she rubbed my bare bottom with lotion, she told me what transpired between her and her mom about spanking me. The choice her mom gave her, “spank him or get a spanking yourself.” Then about asking her sister to get my siblings out of the way, so she could apologize to me in private for having spanked me so hard and long, because she really felt bad about it. Luckily, she had jeans on this time and didn’t feel me get hard, as she talked and rubbed my bare bottom. I was across her lap for twenty minutes or so, before I finally asked, “Are you going to give me another enema?” She replied, “What makes you asked that question. Do you think I'm going too?” I replied, “Yes, I do. The enema bag is on the wall like someone is getting an enema, it's not hanging in the shower where it normally is, and the salt and baking soda is out." She replied, “Yes, I was planning to give you an enema in private this morning, but your grandma changed my plans at the last minute. She walked in the bathroom, as I was getting things ready and asked what I was doing. I told her what I planned to do, as she was getting ready to go out. All she said was, "let me think about it. I’ll talk to you before I leave.” Then walked out of the bathroom.” At that, I let it go. We talked a little longer and just before finishing, she told me, “Mom told us, that she might be late getting home this evening. Then told us, "Give the kids a couple of enemas before getting in the shower with them this evening. And be sure the two boys take a full bag and their sister only ¾ of a bag.” Then told me, “Do what you were planning to do, just not the enema. That’s for this evening.” I replied, “Ok.” Then mom left to go out.” Then she asked me, “How is your bottom doing, is it still sore?” I replied, “It sure is. You really did a number on my bottom. I’ve had to sleeping on my stomach the last couple of nights, even after you rubbed it with lotion. It’s still too sore to sleep comfortably.” She replied, “I hope that did some good. I’m really sorry.” I replied, “I understand, but that doesn’t help my sore bottom.” At that, she laughed, and told me to put my jeans on. Once I was dressed, she gave me a big hug and told me again, I’m sorry I had to spank you like that. Mom just didn’t give me a choice, I had to do it, or get spanked myself.
My whole point is, when we were growing up, we weren’t made to feel ashamed of our bodies or bodily functions. They're normal. This was due in part to our grandmother being a retired RN and our parents letting us grow up in an open environment. As for punishment, it was fair, hard, and swift on our bare bottoms. Spankings were administered with their hand, a hairbrush, or a belt. It depended on the offense as to which was used. The belt was the worst, it really stung like fire when getting spanked, but didn’t last too long. The hairbrush was just about as bad, it stung like fire, but lasted longer than a belt spanking. So, it was really a toss-up between the belt or the hairbrush. Getting spanked with a bare hand could be the worst of all. It just depended on who was spanking you and how long they spanked you. It didn’t sting as bad while getting spanked with a bare hand, but they lasted a lot longer. The longer it lasted, the more it stung, until it was stinging like fire. Just like a hairbrush or belt spanking. For the most part, we were spanked in private, but there were a few exceptions, when we got to watch each other being spanked. For example: When we made too much noise after being put to bed and didn't listen when warned. Dad would come in the bedroom and put each one of us across his lap and spank us with his hand or belt. We got to watch each other being spanked, knowing what was coming was the worst part of all, bar none.