Anticipation

Although I didn't get as many childhood enemas as some of our reader, there seem to a year (either my eigth or ninth) when I found myself home from school sick fairly often. What I remember most about those times was the tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches my mom would make for me, and her enemas, especially the enemas.

It was always the same....she'd come into my room in the morning and anounce that as soon as my younger sister was off to school she was going to give me a good, soapy enema, and afterwards I'd feel much better.

I felt like a convicted criminal listening to his gallows being consturcted as I strained to hear my mom moving about. Once the door slammed and my sister was gone there would be a few moments of silence that seem to stretch out for hours. Eventually I would hear the water running in the sink to get warm, followed by the swishing of the Ivory bar soap, the clanging of the small enamel sauce pan she used to fill our combination hot water bottle/ enema bag, and that soft gurgling, liquid sound as the bag was filled to it's two quart capacity.

No matter how well prepared I was by then, I would still jump when she entered my room to anounce that she was ready.

Once in the bathroom, my eyes would fasten on the red, bulging enema bag lying in the sink, the red ribbed hose draped over the edge, the black rectal pipe lubricated and ready.

Mom's enemas were always the same....you undressed in front of her until you were naked from the waist down, then positioned yourself on your tummy on the floor with her old Peach colored bathmat undr your hips.

Mom would always say something then like: "spread your legs apart honey so I can see what I'm doing"....I'd feel her warm, greased finger teasing my bottom open, then the black hard rubber pipe being inserted. There would be the audible click, a small gurgling soound, and the feeling of being filled. I think I liked the feeling of the enema starting the best, certainly better then the soapy cramps and urgency that followed. Often she would stop and start the flow while encouraging me to take as much as possible.

Well that's my recollection, I'd love to hear yours. electra.

I have always liked the idea of knowing that an enema was coming, heart pounding, hearing footsteps, etc.

When I was around 7 to 10 I got enemas fairly frequently for constipation and I guess the doctor seemed to think they never hurt so he would often say (in front of me in his office) "and give him a warm soapsuds enema when you get home."

When we got home I would ask my mother "when are you going to do it?" She usually waited a while and the anticipation would build up and I hoped she would hurry up and give it to me. I would finally hear her go get the red 2 quart enema bag from the closet in my parents bedroom and see her take it into the kitchen where she filled it with the Ivory soapsuds solution. I would be in bed with my pajamas on when she came into the room - the pajama bottoms came down and I had to spread my cheeks so she could see where to put the nozzle in. First she would put some hand cream on the nozzle and that made it feel cold when it first touched my butt hole. In it would go and then I felt the warm water flowing into me. I would always complain that it was too much and ask her to stop. She usually wanted to give me "just a little more." I was always told to hold it in so it could "work" better. At this point I had another anticipation - letting it out. I have always enjoyed the evacuation part almost as much as the injection of the enema itself. But I guess I didn't really know how much I liked them though until I decided to give them to myself! Then they got larger, hotter and soapier with very effective results!

To this day the anticipation of taking an enema or giving one to my partner will get me excited and I enjoy looking at the 3 quart red rubber bag with the long red hose and big black nozzle several times a day as it hangs in the closet! It has all sure stayed with me...

All the enemas that I received as a child were given to me by nurses at N.E Peabody Home,Newton Center,MA.I was a patient there from age 2 1/2 TO 14 1/2 for tuberculosis.Enemas were given to me for cleanouts on the night before surgery.The equipment used for the enema was a metel funnel and a colon tube.Two nurses would be involved,one nurse would pour the solution into the funnel while the other would check the bedpan.About five enemas would be given this way until the bedpan was clear.

Many,many,enemas were given to me by the new nurse recruits who just needed a kid to practice on.On those occasions,as many as five new nurses would take turns given enemas while the head nurse would would look on and tell them what to do.It got to the point where I was enjoying all of this attention by all these nurses.

I went home from the hospital at age fourteen.I really missed the place and allthe enemas they gave me.Once on my own,I found ways to give myself enemas,but that's another story.Let the good times flow.w/m72yrs/W.MA

Like many here I knew when an enema was headed my way without mom saying anything. If when sick I had an RT of 100+ I knew what the cure was. Mom didn't say I was getting an enema, just what my temp was. Mom gave enemas by the clock: right before b'fast, lunch or bedtime. Enemas for not going potty where given as soon as we got home from school, or if a weekend first thing in the morning. Having a bm at school didn't count so sis and I got more than we needed. Often this happend as a matter of of mom doing both of us together. Many times one of us would be on the toilet expelling while to other was over mom's lap or the tub with water going in. Sis developed breasts and pubic hair at the same time as I started getting erections and sibling enemas stopped.

The butterflies in my stomach as i walked into the bathroom and saw the red (sometimes yellow) bag hanging on the "special" hook hanging over the chair that my Aunt was sitting on. Seeing the towel across her lap awaiting for me to be pulled across, face down after my pants and underwear have been pulled down.... 😳 . Or walking into the bathroom and seeing the jar of child size (long) suppositories sitting on the counter...same feelings....

I loved the feeling of an enema after about eight years of getting them fro my mother, I wondered why they always made me hard and when I was nine I started doing them to myself and masturbating while holding it in

Does anyone know of a man who gives great enemas in NYC.

I really enjoy the anticipation of an enema. Preparing the area I will lay on, Filling the bag, mixing the solution if not using plain water. I can feel my hole pucker at the thought.

My step mom always made me go to my room and wait for her to call me after she told me I was going to get an enema, the anticapation was always part of our sessions. After letting me think about what was going to happen for what seemed forever I would hear her calling me to her room. I would have to undress and neatly fold my cloths before laying over her knee for my temp. Her pink bag would be laying on the bed on a towel, there was no doubt as to what was going to happen next

I've learned not to look at the hanging bag for too long. especially that 4-qt bag. I don't look at that any longer than I have to. I get scared if I do!

Sweet anticipation. Indeed the anticipation of an enema is as thrilling today as it was for me when I was a kid.

I don't no if it was antcipation or dread, but one evening when my mother found out I was constipated she decided to give me an enema, but discovered she was out of Ivory soap. That was the only soap she would use for an enema. I heard her tell my dad to stop at the store on his way home from work and pick up a bar. I had 24 hours to think about what was going to happen. Sure enough he came home from work with the Ivory soap and I soon found myself in the bathroom with my mother, the bulb syringe and a big bowl of soapsuds. She must have been concerned about the extra day of constipation because she really gave me a good syringing, using more solution than ever before. As I begged her to stop she continued to squirt bulb full after bulb full up inside of me. When I was finally allowed to expel everything came pouring out of me. After a rinse enema she was satisfied that she had cleaned me out thoroughtly. That was the longest advance notice of an enema I ever had, because after that she always made sure she had plenty of Ivory soap on hand.

Agree with the anticipation. Least enjoyable is the post expulsion with residual cramping and leaking.

Anticipation is the most exciting part. I still remember when I was an adelescent and sick at home with the flu. I was constipated and told my mom. She said she would get me a laxative, and I said how about an enema. She said an enema would work right away, and I new I was going to get one. The anticipation and excitement for the next hour were breathtaking. When it finally happened it was almost anticlimatic. I discoverred my mom was not a very good enema giver, but I still enjoyed it.