Ever asked for an enema when you were a child?

It's weird how reactions seems to differ. My wife, as a child, occasionally had bad bouts of constipation and gladly accepted an enema to clear it up.

Perhaps her mom knew how to give an enema properly, without undue pain, contrary to the mothers of some people here...

Yes, pecan nutjob has it right. the skill and care that moms and other enema-givers makes all the difference in accepting the treatment and even being open to asking for one. I never did because my mom was a little too all-business at enema time and didn't want her to give me one.

Very early on I leaned the cues, "I feel like I have to go but I can't" was one, saying I felt like I might be coming down with something was another. My playmate and I always got them at the same time, so if one of us gave their mother the "queue" we could be fairly certain phone calls would be exchanged and we would get an enema. I also remember being asked if I felt like I needed an enema. Although I wanted to say, yes., I'd love one, I always hesitantly said, yes.

One time I do remember mom saying, "you and Janet really like enemas, don't you." The way it was phrased, and coming as a surprise, I answered, without hesitation, "yes." After that the number of enemas seemed to increase.

I'm sure in this day and age it would be considered child molestation, but I loved enemas, and hardly a day went by I didn't think about them and wanted one. Once I got old enough and my mother worked and I'd come home alone after school, I gave myself very frequent enemas. By that time we had moved, and I had found a girl a few years younger that would come to my house and let me give her enemas!

Just a few years ago I met a colon therapist that gave her daughter enemas, she told me anytime her daughter felt out of sorts she would ask for an enema. So as recent as the 1990's this was going on.

Yes Pecan Nutjob, if all enemas had been given during the "Golden Years" as you described, we would probably still in those years for real.

I never asked for them, I was just forced to accept them. It took years before I started to enjoy them.

No. Never asked for one.

If I wanted one, I'd take it at bath time. Fill up while in the tub. Hang butt over the side into the toilet to expel. Added very little time to bath time.

I'm sorry about the length of this post.

When i was about 11 or 12 I was getting pretty regular enemas from Mom, 2 or 3 a month. Mom also took numerous enemas herself.

One day after I got home from school I went into the bathroom and the enema bag was hanging there from one of Mom's enemas. I wanted to take one but knew if I did I'd get into trouble.

A while later 2 of the neighbor ladies came over for afternoon coffee. I slipped into the bathroom. As quietly as i could I took the enema bag down, filled it and rehung it. I proceeded to take as much as I could which was almost the full bag. So I wouldn't make much noise I scooted as far forward on the toilet seat as I could and tried to empty out without making alot of noise. After I was as empty as I could get I cleaned up and went out to watch TV.

Later that night as i was getting ready for bed Mom came into my room and closed the door so we could talk privately. She told me that she knew that I had taken an enema that day. That she had heard me expelling and wondered. She said that I had left about 2 cups of water in the bag. She said that she wasn't really mad at me but that if zI wanted and enema I should just tell her and she would give it to me.

She then asked if wanted another enema. I told her yes but that I was tired. She said that she would give me one tomorrow. The next day when I got hom,e from school Mom asked me if I still wanted an enema I said yes. She told me to go get ready. I heard the water running in the bathroom. When IO went in Mom was standing there with the enema hose in her hand, the bag hanging from the towel bar. She asked if i wanted to take the enema myself or if I wanted her to give it to me. I hesitated . I fianlly said I'd like her to give it to me. She rehung the bag from the shower rod and took a towel, sat on the toilet seat lid and had me lay across her knees.

She lubed my bottom and inserted the adult nozzle then asked iof I was ready. I said yes and she opened the clamp. As the water was going into me she asked, "You like me giving you enemas, don't you?" I said yes. She then asked me how many enemas I take without her knowing about it. She told me to tell the truth because she had a pretty good idea anyway. So, I told her that I took one about once a month when she went out for something. She said that she thought it was about once a week from the way the syringe was put away, not like she had left it.

As the enema finished draining in to me and I got on the toilet, Mom was cleaning the bag. She held up the bag and said very matter of factly, "You just like enemas." I said I guess so. She started laughing and said that it was OK to like enemas. She said that she would give me an enema whenever I wanted one. She started out of the bathroom with the enema bag. She stopped and asked me if I thought it was a good idea to put the bag away or should she leave it in the bathroom for awhile. I didn't want to appear too eager so I said to put it away.

A couple of days later Mom asked if I needed another enema. I told her that I didn't really need one but that I would like her to give me one. She said she was busy at the moment but for me to go get the enema bag out of her closet and get it ready. When the enema and I were both ready Mom came into the bathroom and gave me the enema.

The next day I went and got the enema bag and got it and me ready and told Mom I was ready for an enema. She came into the bathroom and said that this would be the last enema for awhile that I was taking too many of them. She gave me the enema and took the bag to put it away.

A few days later I went searching for the bag and couldn't find it. As I was walking out of Mom's room she came in and asked if I was looking for the enema. She said that she hid it because she didn't want me to take any enemas without her knowledge.

So, from then on I'd ask for an enema about once a week and Mom was always agreeable to help.

Nope. Too dumb to ask for anything that might help bowel wise (enemas, suppositories, fiber, prunes, you name it...). Indeed, I actively avoided it, and as a result I spent a lot of time uncomfortable.

I never got enemas as a child but I use to ask for suppositories and would get shot down. It was only when mom said I needed one I got one.

No I never asked for one, didn't always protest but never asked.

When I was little I never directly asked for an enema although I really liked them.

Somstimes when using the bath before bedtime I played with the syringe or the tube.

When Mum came in she asked Oh, You want an enema? I said "Yes". Then I got a good

cleaning out session until I was clean. From this time I got regulary enemas twice a month.

Afterwards when I was in bedI felt asleep in short time.

Before I started sneaking enemas by myself, I would often feign constipation and ask mom for an enema. She always obliged. Growing up in the sixties and seventeens meant a lot of outside play, in the mud and dust. And with pets around we all had intestinal worms from time to time and had to be dewormed regularly.

Worms gave a hellish asshole itching, and mom's remedy for instant relief was - unsurprisingly - an enema. I often asked for one for that reason, too.

At first, I would indirectly ask my Dad for an enema by telling him that "I cannot go to the bathroom" or that I felt stuffed up. He would then prepare the enema equipment and let me insert the nozzle. But later I would simply tell him that I need an enema.

When I got older I sometimes asked my mom to give me an enema, if I were Constipated. I hated laxatives and found the enema faster And More reliable .

My Mom never let me give myself an enema and it wasn't until my wedding day that she handed me a new travel syringe in a paper bag. Her enemas never failed to make me sexuality aroused, eventhough it was my own Mother giving me the enema. I would moan and quiver as she would fill my belly and snap on and off the clamp and make me expel. She repeated this ritual over and over again, while I was seated on the commode. The hot soapsuds were both irritating and stimulating with the douche nozzle seated high in my rectum. I had no sexual experience or simulation before enemas. Although they made my stomach hurt and they were smelly and embarrasing, they really felt great!! As a teenager, all I ever had to say to Mom was, "I don't feel good", "I feel constipated" or "I can't go to the bathroom". An enema or two would shortly follow.

Sometimes my daughter obviously wanted an enema bit she never asked outright. instead, she would say something that she knew would trigger an enema. like going the the nurses office with a tummy ache at school. she would be sure to get an enema from her mom after school. or coming to me one evening and saying, "daddy, every time i bent over in school today my tummy hurt."

As a kid enemas were given on a regular schedule. In between if I was constipated or a belly ache Mom would take me to the bathroom and take the syringe from the hanger and prepare and give me one or two before she would quit. That was the good old days.

Mom telling me after another one of the regular enema session that I shouldn't wait until I was real constipated before taging an enema. Just tell you need to be cleaned out and I'llgive you an enema.

These enemas are good for you and everybody needs a good enema once in awile.

So if it had been awile since my last one, I would mope around or spend a lot time in the bathroom

until mom would inquire about my bowel movements.

when I was growing up, I was given at least one enema monthly.

I was about 10 when I really wanted an enema (i had not had one for many years, but knew we had equipment in the house)

So I go to my mom, while she was still sober in the afternoon, complaining of a stomach ache and no BM for a week. So her reply was go away you little pervert! Well that hurt!

Later that afternoon, I go down the street and sit on my neighbor’s front steps, waiting for kids to come out and play. Their mom, comes out and starts to tell me that it will be awhile since they both just had enemas. So I blurt out, “lucky them”.

She looks at me and says...really! Yes I say, I just begged my mom for one cuz I cant poop and she sent me away.

She then stood up grabbed my hand and said “follow me charlie, will fix that upright now” well I got the best SSE enema and rinse from her and an invvite to come for more if ever i needed help.

best day of my life!

I don't remember ever asking for an enema directly, but more than once, I told my mom my tummy was not feeling right. She would suggest a small enema might help. And I would not refuse.

Once with my grandma it was more blatant. She had earlier given me my first enema with a bag, and I liked it. So a few weeks later I pretended to be constipated, although I had pooped that morning, hoping she would give me another with the bag. She did. But did she know? That was the last enema I ever got from her.

When I got to the age that I realized that I liked enemas, maybe around 8 or 9, I was careful not to ask for one, but if she thought I had a problem and suggested an enema might help, I was quick to agree after a bit of whining just so she didn't think I really wanted one. It was a fine line, whine a little but not so much that I didn't get one. I never asked for one directly but soon the game was over anyway when I got caught giving myself an enema with the bulb.

Growing up, all of us kids got enemas as needed, and every 3 months we all got a thorough "physic": a laxative the night before, a suppository the next morning, then SSE's til clear, and a plain water rinse. My two oldest sisters never got enemas between these clean outs, unless they were sick. Gram, Mom, and Aunt Ruth were firm believers that enemas were the perfect treatment, and used them frequently themselves. My immediately older sister Lisa and I inherited Mom's chronic constipation, and got enemas so frequently that the adults finally just scheduled us for twice weekly enemas. If it was a busy week, we still got a bisacodyl suppository. So, there was really never a reason to ask for an enema. Since all three adults gave us enemas, we soon realized that Aunt Ruth was best at giving them. She actually lived next door, and so, when I was 11, I went over to her house and confided that I really enjoyed her enemas. She asked if Lisa did, too, and I told her she had never said so, but I thought she did. Ruth smiled and told me I could come for an enema or a series any time I wanted. From then on, I was a visitor once or twice a week. Lisa caught on, and after that, we would go together for Aunt Ruth's enemas. When I was 17, Ruth surprised me as I was releasing my rinse enema. She started preparing a 3 qt SSE. I asked her if she was going to give me another one, but she said she needed one herself. Our family always did enemas totally nude, giving and receiving, so I had no clue that Ruth wanted one. What she said next really surprised me: "I know you and Lisa do each other; would you like to give me mine?" She obviously noticed my drooping enema erection came back to full attention as I stammered an agreement. Although nothing happened that time, a few weeks later Ruth put it to good use. We continued until her death, nearly 60 years later. She was sterile, and as far as I know, only Ruth, Lisa and I ever knew.

My mom probably would have fainted had I ever asked her for an enema. My role, a least for the first few treatments, was to argue against them. It did little good.

Yes I did and I was never refused . Something just ' clicked ' , no pun intended , around the age of 7 - 9 as to my affinity for receiving enemas . Yes …. it was the physical but now I see that my emotions and psych also were in the ' mix ' as well . My mother , I think , knew by this time that our home enemas were becoming a source of some ' pleasure ' for me as granted the question would have perhaps seemed a bit ' odd ' had we not even by that time established a history of ' good ' or at least a ' co-operative ' enema activities even in my formative years . So yes ….. at times other than when my obvious constipation issues and childhood illnesses mandated a cleansing enema there were times when I sought an enema for my pleasure which only grew over the years I was at home . My ' request ' may not have been granted immediately as my mom was always a busy lady but before the end of the day ……….. she was ' there ' for her boy . We did enjoy our respective roles from which there developed a very close bond . She passed away many years ago but left me with many wonderful memories and an everlasting legacy of care , compassion , understanding and love . Her gentle home enemas given to me encompassed all of the previous descriptors and I do miss her as my ' mom ' . Her feelings as to the reception of the enema as per my description were hers as well as she had access to several female relatives and good friends who over the years administered many cleansing enemas to her . How do I know ??? We had several conversations concerning the subject as to her affirmation of her affinity for ' receiving ' . Yes …… my mother rather enjoyed the whole of the ' give / receive ' activity and was very comfortable at each end of the enema syringe .

To ASK for it was about the last thing that could have occurred to me in the first decade of my life. I accepted them as an inevitability when they were - which was quite often. Obviously, if it's medically necessary for constipation, there is no way around it, so protesting is pointless. But putting initiative in it, being the one telling an adult to do it first? No. That there is such a thing as a hedonistic enema, I learned in my early twenties.

I had never asked for one as a kid, I would not have even acknowledged that I needed one before or after getting one. However, there was once that I remember when I was in jr. high that I had been nearly accepting of the fact that I had needed an enema, on one occasion.

I had been out for an evening of nightcrawler hunting with a friend and his dad. I guess it was brought on by all the crouching and bending that I had been doing, but out there in the grassy lot we were on I had one of my legendary belly aches. It was so bad that I couldn't stand or straighten myself up at first. My friend's dad had to carry me to his truck, then up to my house which was just a few blocks away.

Inside and after my friend's dad had left mom told me to get on the toilet. She had to get my pants off for me and help me get seated.

I remember that time pretty well, out of all of the other times that I had one of my belly aches. I sat there feeling pretty ashamed, and mom had more of a scolding attitude than usual. After several minutes sitting I was able to pass quite a bit of gas, but that was all. And I felt a lot better. There wasn't no getting off the toilet though until I had "made" something. It was after passing the gas and announcing that I felt better was when mom got a little owley.

Although I felt "better" I still didn't feel good. It got to where I couldn't pass gas anymore and I still couldn't do a bm either. For the first, and maybe the only time as a kid, I was actually thinking about needing an enema. It had actually crossed my mind that I might need the bag too.

I didn't want it but I had actually felt like I needed something, that time. I was certain though that I was going to be given a disposable enema like I usually got, and I certainly wouldn't have suggested the bag had that been the case. I was surprised, and even still protested a little when she came into the bathroom and got out the bag instead of a disposable. I got off the toilet and into position with just a little less protest than usual, maybe, when she had it ready.

Getting two a week was the schedule but sometimes I would miss one. Having a bowel problem of the bm being large hard and dry the doctors agree twice a week keep thing going pretty good. Of course when one was missed I would be hurting and would ask mom for a enema. She would fix the syringe with soapy water till I was 9 or 10 than came the bag. She would listen the the grunting and the splash to know it worked. The soapy water made it come out fast which was a great release. She always made me take enough soapy water for it too work which did hurt some but being in pain to start with was worth it since it made me fell wonderful afterwards. She would clean the bulb or bag to make sure she heard the results. There was a few times it had to be repeated for the results she wanted. I can tell you for sure that those enemas making it come out fast in one hard push was worth it. I would ask for one if it was needed and she would give it to me. Thanks mom for the memories.

Once I started liking enemas, around age 10, I started asking to take them By that age, my mother handed me the bag to give myself my enema. And when I started liking them, I often lied about being constipated and asked her for the enema bag.

I don't think it would have occurred for me to ask simply because the word "enema" wasn't part of my vocabulary. An "occurring world" does not exist for us until we are programmed through language.

As I have written elsewhere, my mom and dad were separated and divorced when I was age 7 and I didn't know the word or meaning of the word "enema" until I was somewhere near age 14. I think the first time I know I heard the word "enema" used was in the presence of aunts, uncles, and cousins as a derogatory term for a particular city that was part of the discussion (If the world was given an enema we would start with city). Clearly among the group of adults where this comment was delivered, they knew what it meant. I didn't.

When I got a chance to get back to my room, I got out my dictionary and looked up "enema." And there was the definition that described what I had been doing nearly every day since I'd discovered that red bag with a black nozzle in the shower.

Since it was my mom who gave me enemas, I don't know if there some sort of substitute word or words that she used to get me ready to have her give me an enema. If she used the word enema or if I knew it before the age of 7, I certainly didn't remember it. And I don't recall or remember if there was a time when I would have asked.

It was only later in life when I connected my childhood memories to my personal enema experiences that I realized that there was a long-lived thread of enema experiences that went back to my early life.

NEVER!