Most traumatic enema

What was the most traumatic enema you can remember?

Mine took place when I was 5 years old. I was in the hospital with my left leg in traction (hip broken, got hit by a car.) Had a terrible time with bm's. Seems like they were putting in suppositories daily with not much results. Finally I was given an enema by 2 or 3 people. They used a funnel and tube and poured solution out of a glass jar. It was very traumatic for me. I had no idea that you were supposed to hold it to help soften the stool or anything. The soapy water would gush out of me, apparently without any result and so they would use more water. Eventually they got the desired results, I guess and left me alone.

I had never been given an enema at home with anything but the infant syringe up to that time.

Sometimes traumatic events will stay with you forever as in my case.I had a situation in a childrens hospital in Boston.I was eleven years old when I got spanked with a paddle by the head nurse for making noise during a rest period.She wacked me so hard that I threw a temper tandrum.The head nurse ordered me to be sraight jacketed by two nurses,but that did not shut me up.So they wheeled me into the large boys bathroom and put me on a long table then stripped me naked.A few minutes later,the head nurse Mrs Bishop ordered the other nurse to give me an enema.

A nurse carried a tray with a funnel,a white pitcher and red colon tube.Another nurse carried the bed pan and place it on the table while the first nurse prepared the enema.They rolled over on my left side while my arms were in the straight jacket to expose my butt.Then I felt the nurse stick her finger up my anus to lube me up.The tube was inserted and the flow began as the nurse continued to pour the soapy solution into the funnel from the white pitcher.I don't know how much solution they gave me when the tube was pulled out.I was rolled on my back as a bedpan was place under me.After expelling the enema,the head nurse entered the room and ordered another enema.This time the solution was a bit warmer and the volume greater.

After expelling the second enema,I had calmed down and wheeled back to my ward.In the last few months I have made contacts with former patients of this childrens hospital who have experiance simular puishment.

Yeah.

Every time I go into the hospital, I expect to get an enema. That is the way it was during the golden age.

Butt the really traumatic ones were given at home. In retrospect, my mother was just doing what the doctor ordered. Butt the wiring of my prostate and ass were intact when it began and only more so as the years and the enemas rolled on.

I guess that she never had a clue. Butt I was both hooked and fucked up.

It felt so damn good. And on some level I knew, just KNEW, that it was so wrong. She was my MOTHER, dammit!

So, I love the bag, or the hose, or the whatever. I have it all. And retired, amicably separated from my wife (who never understood the haunting need for a full ass), I play when I feel the need. Not the want, butt the NEED.

I enjoy being on the reciving end, for sure, butt to make that happen I need to have TRUST. (Sorry about the CAPS, butt it is important to me.)

Meanwhile, I like to play with asses, to gently nudge them to the heat of desire, so that begging and wiggling and humping, they scream for penetration.

It is not about genitals, it is not about power (necessarily), butt it is about vulnerability: being that little boy who lives inside some of us more than in others getting taken care of..... in a safe, sane, and consensual way.

Dr. D.

My grandmother was watching me for the weekends, I was around 5. She's quite over bearing and controlling. She monitored me, I wasn't sure why she cared if I pooped or not but it seemed to be important to her. Sunday afternoon she had me try, and I just wasn't having it, she called me difficult and let me go play the next time I saw her she was leading me by the hand away form my legos. She made me kneal in the tub and bend over, she sat on the toilet and pumped soapy water into a bulb. The first insertion was painful since she had lubed it but not me, she waited for me to stop whining before squeezing. She instructed me how to take a proper enema with out getting a spanking; Don't squirm, don't whine, don't push, and don't leak. Hold it for as long as I tell you. My stomach was growling as she pressed the bulb and more warm water surged in, she filled me with 6 or seven bulbs of soapy solution, before it began to cramp horrible, and i sunk with my cheek against the bottom of the tub and felt it leaking, she squeezed my butt cheeks together until I felt a gurgling and my butt accepted the water. She let my butt go and slapped it several times cause pain and me to squirt more water into the tub, instead of spanking me again for the mess, she put 4 more bulbs, before she had to pinch my booty closed and pushed the nozzle between my pressed cheeks, when she pulled it out I told he I couldn't do it, she stuck her finger deep into my bowels and held it there for what seemed like forever before letting me use the toilet. I was left alone for 10 or so minutes and she came back and gave me a clear water enema that took every thing in me with it, and then i was sat back in front of my legos, sluggish and dizzy.

My most traumatic time was when everybody was over and I just could not go so my mom announced that I was getting an enema with my girlfriend standing there and smiling.

I was led into the bathroom and when I came out it got quiet and everybody stared at me and my girl said better? and I just got red and stormed off.

My girl then came and said don't worry I get them all the time and there was nothing wrong with it so we went to the park and played and we started that day to make out what an enema can do to a young relationship.

One day I got to anxious and used water that was to hot. It burned going in I tried to hang with it and it got worse and I had to release everything 😮 I most certainly will slow down and check the temperature for now on.

It was so embarassing alright, but here goes. I was visiting with my grandparents and aunts one summer and I was passing gas quite a lot, and I remember my mom saying if I didn't quit she'd give me an enema. My aunts laughed, but I didn't know what they were all talking about (at 10 years old). She was serious, and I did get a few soapy fillings with a bit of an audience. I was so embarrassed, and I'd never forgotten that.

That sounds very familar. Only I was around four when my mom had my brother come help her hold me down for my enema. she would slap me before she would slip the nozzle far up inside me. How embarassing to have my brother see my bare bottom i never forgot him in the bathroom with us and when it was over he asked if he could put it in me next time.

All the enemas I got from my mother were traumatic. I would throw a fit, and she would hold me down and give it to me while I cried. One morning I guess I was making more noise than usual, and my brother came storming into the room and yelling at my mom to leave me alone, that she was hurting me. I've always wondered if that experience stuck with him the way it has with me.

The enemas I received from my mother were traumatic as well,Anne B.

Compliance was enforced with a hairbrush or a leather strap.

For better or worse, here we are today ... glad we have a place where we can share and relate to one another ...

My most traumatic one I had was a month, or so, ago when I took the usual amount of salty water held it in for about 20 minutes and then could no longer hold it any more. Then it kept coming, and coming, and coming. Took about half an hour to finish and I must have expelled everything from stomach to anus. Don't know why so much came out -- this has never happened before and I hope it will never happen again!

Mine would be where i was using my usual equipment and then when i was expelling i felt something off. when i got up i noticed that there was blood in the stool. that almost kept me from ever doing it again but months later i got back in the game.

My most traumatic enema was the first one my mom gave me with an enema bag when I was 4 years old. It was only 1 pint of salt solution ordered by the doctor to relieve constipation during a cold, but it scared me because I didn't know what she was doing to me. I only knew that it gave me a bad bellyache and a feeling like I was going to burst as she forced me to hold it in for 5 minutes. It was only after she let me expel it into a potty that I realized I felt a lot better and I didn't feel so scared any more.

Sixth grade just starting to notice girls and realize the differences, was sick at home for a few days and had not gone. Why the bulb or bag wasn't used I don't know. Parents called doctor who ordered what was then a new treatment, a Fleets enema. It seems the bottle was a lot larger and they had to heat it up in a pot of water on the stove. When it was warmed up I was told to drop my drawers and lie on the bed. I was too embarrassed to lie on the side which would have me facing them, so I got it facing the wall with my penis mostly concealed. Seems like it took forever, and my Mom kept squeezing the bottle but couldn't get much of it to go in - I must have been really plugged up!! Consequently, not much of anything came out. I was taken to the Dr's office and given a shot of something to make me sleep. Don't remember what happened after that but will never forget the trauma associated with it.

I was doing a system cleanout, and I just could not get a clear return!

Usually, I get a clear return on either the third or fourth enema. Not that time!!

After the third enema, I sure don't feel like taking another one, but I understand the importance of finishing the job!

I didn't even cheat the prep, and the 4th enema came out brown! Not yellow, brown!

It took 6 enemas to get me clear! 6! That 6th one was HELL!

My most traumatic enema was the first that I ever got from a bag. Up to that point when growing up my enemas were from a bulb and by age 7 or 8 it took a couple of bulbs to get enough in me. But this time I did not want to have one and was really fussing about it. I thought that I'd be smart and wiggle off mom's lap, sit on the toilet and expel as soon as she removed the bulb and leaned over to refill it. But I had not had enough enema nor had I held it long at all so the only thing to come out of me was a little soapy water and hardly any BM. Mom was not pleased and before I knew it I was back over her lap with the hose leading to the bag up my bottom. I didn't dare move a muscle and would not expel until she told me I could.

My most traumatic enema was staying with my aunt one weekend. I think I was about 5 years old. I had been eating a bunch of junk food all week and my stomach and waist started cramping up. Rather than call my parents 50 miles down the road, my aunt asked her neighbor Kristy what would be good to give me to make my bowels move. Kristy was a LPN, and she came over to have a look at me. She pressed on my waist and told my aunt that I was probably constipated. She said a laxative would do the trick, but an enema would give me faster relief. Kristy left and came back with a bulb syringe. They took me to the bathroom and bent me over the tub. Kristy filled the bulb and greased the tip, then parted my cheeks and slipped the nozzle in as far as it would go. That was very uncomfortable and I started crying. What I wasn't ready for was the quick "gush" when she squeezed the bulb. The water was too warm and felt like it was going to go all the way to my chest. I was screaming NO..NO..NO!!! and my aunt and Kristy were trying to keep me calm. Then the nozzle up my butt again....another quick hot gush. She repeated this about 5 times until I had pooped everything out. This is the only traumatic enema I can ever remember.

I hate to admit this, but my most traumatic enema was my last one ... and I'm nearly 30. For some reason, we had eaten pizza on three of four evenings last week and by Tuesday I had to admit I was so bound up, short of the second coming of Mt. St. Helen, I didn't think anything would break up the blockage. And no, I hate laxatives so hubby said he would create the cure. While we normally use plain water in our e-recreation sessions, he said this was the time for a series of soapy enemas. I didn't disagree as we went off to the bathroom. He created a almost white, quart-or-so, soapy enema, a little warmer than normal but not hot. He said the slightly warmer water would help soften the stool. This took more than five minutes to get in. The reason was obvious. He tried to get me to hold it for a few minutes, but after about two (it seemed like five) minutes, I tried to relieve myself with little or no success. A couple marbles, nothing more. He said to just sit there as he prepared another enema, milder, but still soapy. After no relieve in five minutes, he said he would try to add more solution into me, massaged my tummy as the liquid went in ... then he made me hold it and even used a butt plug ... I didn't even know he had one. He said as much as I would try to go, the plug would hold all the liquid in. It did. I was in agony after 10 minutes and he just said I should try to "tough it out" for as long as I could. A couple minutes later I said NO MORE, I'VE GOT TO GO AND he pulled the plug and I gushed what seemed like tons of water, and more chunks than I had ever pushed out ever ever ever. He laughed about how plugged I really was. He filled the bag to the full two quarts and administered it, complete with butt plug, and I held it for 15 minutes ... the last five in total agony ... then he let me relieve myself which I did with gushes and clunks and chunks and whatever else was on our pizzas.

Before I even got up from the toilet, he was preparing the first of three rinse enemas ... each two quarts. I didn't think I could produce so much brown liquid ... even after the third rinse it was still quite brown. Although I was exhausted, he suggested at least one or two more rinse enemas. Finally the last one came pretty clear.

He warned me not to go too far from the toilet because there was obviously more water left in my system. He was right Three more visits to the toilet resulted in much more liquid coming out ... no debris, just liquid and not too sweet smelling either. For over an hour I kept expelling the results of his rinse enemas. I was in total agony, to put it mildly, but about an hour after it was all done, I felt good again. He asked if I wanted something to eat. I said anything but a pizza.

We made a couple milk shakes. That tasted so good.

Oh yes, I went to the bathroom twice after that. That was my most traumatic enema session I ever had in my life ... agony compounded ... I kid thee not.

Wow, Diana, I've been in similar situations, but nothing quite that traumatic. It really does help to have a partner to make you hold it all, doesn't it? 😉

Diana;I think a cooler solution for the first enema would have helped the expelling quicker.Warm solution relaxes the colon more than cool solution.I always do my cleanout enemas of 1.5 qt with a cool solution before doing a two quart enema,however,everyone is differant.

My most traumatic was when I was just getting into enemas as a form of pleasure.

I believe I was around 11, I was experimenting with enema recipes and I and heard somewhere that olive oil was really good for cleaning you out. So I tired some. Keep in mind I was living at home with my parents and sibling so there was no way I could let them find out about my habits.

After giving myself the olive oil enema I thought it did a good job of cleaning me out but I didnt give myself a cleansing enema. So come dinner time my dad told a really good joke and when I started laughing I just emptied the remaining oil in my pants. I was so embarrassed, I was worried I was going to get caught and my parents where going to find out about my fetish, I just excused myself and cleaned up. To this day I have not used olive oil again!

I'm very sorry, but i NEVER had a traumatic enema! From the first ones that I remember right up until the one i had last night i LOVE them all!! 😃 Mom was a real saint giving nice gentle enemas that were very effective, so i was never one to rebel against that wonderful ass tube. Now my brother and sister could be heard howling but I don't believe they share my fetish though. 😃 😃

The most traumatic enemas I got were those before childbirth, two quarts and ten minutes of retention while having the contractions were a torment.

Like many others, my mom gave me several over the years i was growing up, but the one that really got me going was when i was 16. I was constipated and having cramps. Mom had me take my pants off and gave me an enema---the only problem was that her GF was there and saw mw in all my glory. Later I found out my sister had also seen it. That was the first time I ever got aroused during the enema, so of course afterwards in the privacy of my room I had to take matters into my own hands. Have loved them since.

One time I was admitted to the hospital becaused of kidney stones. Since the pain was excruiting I was on heavy pain killers. That night they took effect and the next morinig I was groggy, hungry and dehydrated. Expecting to get breakfast a nurse came in to the room and said she needed a urine sample and had to give me an enema. She then said let me start by giving you an enema. She then filled a large diposible bag with fluid and then procedded to in sert the nozzle. Because the effect of the way she did it or she may have touched my prostate I became extremely hard. When she finished and told me to use the toilet as I expelled I climaxed with out even masterbating. After tit was over I felt completely taken over was and felt like a very asubmissive sub.

My first ever, I was 5 grandma said I needed to feel better, over the lap was silly and bulb/bowl was kinda surprising then it turned to traumatic event with little girl screaming and crying getting bulbed.

Later that day when my mom came she was mad at her mother in law. A lot of drama that followed and I was scared of grandma for a while too 😳

Badgirl 50 Did your brother get to put the next one in you?

I got enemas with the bulb syringe I hated and cried. The most traumatic was age 4 when I got the bag for the first time. The enemas were given by a nanny but she needed the help of my dad for this one. I had to have a kidney x-ray and be cleaned out. I kicked and screamed and fought that enema as best I could. As figured I lose and was cleaned out very good.

I sympathise with you. My sister and I endured the same awful treatments at the hands of our nanny when we were small children. We behaved the same way too, with lots of kicking, crying and protesting! I never got over that feeling of utter helplessness.

My first enema was very much like Sprogger's except that it wasn't in hospital - mum and dad got a visiting nurse to give it. It was traumatic - yet another anal insertion, as if I hadn't been "persecuted" and "violated" enough in the past 24 hours, and now it was a stranger doing it. And the approach of the nozzle scared me shitless (but, alas, not literally!)