Do You Recall Being Told, You Must Take It All

A power outage last night brought back a memory about ‘taking it all,’

It was early fall and I had just started high school. My mother determined, as she often did, that I could use a ‘good enema,’ There was no arguing the point, you just submitted, hoping she would settle for a single fill, (but she rarely did)

In short order I was bent over the tub, my mother filling the old red bag with Ivory soapsuds. She hung the bag and inserted the nozzle while seated on the tub rim next to me. She opened the clamp and the rush of solution started and then the lights went out. Instead of stopping the flow, my mother took my hand and replaced her hand on the nozzle with mine. She said, “you keep this in, I will go fetch a torch.” (Always a torch, never a flashlight thanks to her Irish mother.)

She left and I heard her go downstairs. I thought I could cheat the lady and shut the clamp, pulled out the nozzle and opened the clamp squiring most of the the soapsuds into the tub. When I heard her returning up the stairs, I returned the nozzle to my butt with the bag now nearly empty.

My mother came into the bathroom with the flashlight and immediately felt the nearly empty bag, then lifted it to get the final solution into me as she usually did. Then the lights came on. Of course, now she could clearly see the suds collected around the tub drain and I was caught. She said, "This is why you cannot be trusted to take an enema by yourself!" She was angry and immediately began making up another sink full of soapsuds. As she filled the bag to the very brim with a cup she said, “You're getting every drop and you WILL take it all this time!” True to her word, as always, I did have to take it all.

So many good stories! Never have I been told to take it all.

I remember on my second honeymoon my wife was honoring a request that I had made a year or so before. The request was for her to give me an enema and that she was to be the lady in control. I told her that I wanted her to make sure that I took every single ounce of the soapy, salty water. Well, here I was and I couldn’t believe that she remembered the request.. she took me into the bathroom and low and behold I noticed there were 3 enema bags hanging on the towel bar. She told me that she wanted to make this one special and that she had purchased 2 new bags to go with the one I already had. Anyway, the enema began with her rubbing Vicks Vaporub onto the douche nozzles; then she lubed my hole and even slid her finger with Vicks on it into my rectum. I took 2 bags without a problem. But, when she started bag number 3 I began to struggle. I asked her to stop it. Well, she said “oh, no! You are going to take all of this bag too!” Somehow, I did! To this day, I do not know how I did it! Maybe it was her coaching me through it! Anyway, I loved the way my wife did it. It was truly special! She did become a domineering wife!

I've never heard those words addressed to me, but I have spoken them many times as I gave enemas to female “patients.” I was not giving them 4 quart enemas, but simple drugstore bag enemas. I can't recall a single instance when my “patient” failed to receive all the fluid I planned to give. Telling her that at the beginning of the enema, though, was very helpful, since she knew this was part of her “exam,” and I always explained that she must be cleaned out for her rectal exam and full bags were essential for this…

What I told my old girl friends when the time was right

Told ?

Told as one might say in a threatening manner or stated so forcefully that you have no choice but to comply

Just about everyone who's conversant with an enema & what's involved is usually “told” at some point of the process

Speaking just as myself it was more of a case of being Instructed / explained too & then encouraged to retain as much of the solution as I could manage to provide the best results

Clinically :

Nurses are or were trained from their very beginnings to overcome objections or allay a person's concerns / fears that cushions the impact of what is to eventuate. From the articles I've read all nursing trainees complete tutorials in psychology & it's application relative to patient care.

Indeed. At a time when parents and carers "always" new best and in my case foster care. My foster aunt was the enema giver and she would decide when my bowels were going to be washed and the quantity of water. And though the words changed sometimes it was always made very clear that the enema wouldn't stop until I'd taken all the water and my bowels were full. And of course I had to hold it while the enema did its work.

I have written previously on my time if their care.

I was told “Let's take a little break and see how you do.” Also, “I've stopped the water but only for a minute. You've got to take more.” They asked, “Are you ready for some more water?”

I knew it was useless but I started protesting as soon as I was told I was getting an enema. Soon I was naked, on all fours, head down, butt up. As soon as I started feeling full, I would protest even more to which my mother would respond by raising the enema bag even higher and assuring me I had to take it all. I eventually learned protesting was useless as I knew I had to take the whole bag.

I’ve taken and administered many enemas. Warm water, Ivory soap, Dr. Bonner’s peppermint soap and liquid glycerin.

I never had a problem taking a full 2-quart bag nor have my ladies. I have one lady friend who wants a series every time we get together.

Her’s is a 3-quart clear bag. She likes taking her enemas with her butt high in the air. I fully insert the colon tube and keep the flow slow to medium to avoid cramps.

She carefully watches the bag empty as she tells me how good her enema feels. When the bag is empty, she holds 10 minutes while I wiggle the the end of the deep tube and rub her labia and clit.

When she’s empty, we repeat a full soapy bag and finish with a warm salt water finish.

Orgasms and frequent and anal sex almost always follows.

But never painful cramps or complaints about too much volume.

“Keep breathing, you need to finish the bag.” This is not my mother giving orders – it's my dearest husband. The time he gave me an enema because I was several days' plugged up and not feeling like doing it myself, he mildly disciplined me into taking more of the bag than I usually do. I remember telling him that I needed to get off the bed and get to the bathroom, but he coached me to keep deep-breathing and pushed the rectal tube in its full length. I wasn't comfortable, but it really cleaned me out. I called him Nurse Ratched. He laughed; we cuddled on the sofa and watched a Seattle Seahawks game.

ABSOLUTELY !!

The “penalty” for not taking it all with my mom was you were getting another one, as soon as you got off the toilet. You obviously were so full that you couldn't take the first one, you'll need a second

My mother usually gave me an very warm strong Ivory soap suds enema, followed by another and sometimes a hot tap water rinse for a variety of medical ailments in the 60s and into the 70s. She didn't really say I was going to take it all that I remember, but she had a technique of patience that made sure I did. She would sit me on the toilet and lightly vaseline lube the adult nozzle, put vaseline on her finger and lube my bottom, and insert her finger a half inch several times to make sure I was lubed. She placed the nozzle in my bottom and told me to hold it in… and if I didn't, she warned me I would get a makeup enema. Then she would raise the 2 quart folding latex bag that was bulging and filled to the brim high overhead and say, “Now honey, I'm going to start your flow, so tell me when you feel it. Tell me when you need to have me lower the bag if you cramp too much.” For some reason her pink latex bag that she used on herself regularly and my sister and I was the most amazing flow bag ever… would shoot water 8 feet. I would hear the click of the metal clamp and in a short delay the feeling of hot angry bees buzzing in my bottom… and suddenly rising up my left side as, I believe, my sigmoid colon filled… I was usually saying… “Oh Mother, I feel it, it's hot… I feel it!!!" “Tell me when you cramp" she would say. I would sit forward trying to get away from the buzzing and heat on my whole left side. “ Oh Mother, please lower the bag, please mother… please!” “Ok John, but tell me when your cramps are gone." “OK… I will… oh that hurts… oh oh ohwww! ”Breathe deep!" I would pant.. pant… pant… and slowly the cramping would subside. She would sense this and say “I'm raising the bag…” “Please, Mom… not yet! Please!" “NO… you need to take some more… your cramps are better… ” “Not yet… please Mom!” Up… up and up the big pink bag would go and the hot torrent would be across my upper abdomen and my ass felt like I was sitting on an open fire hydrant, and my tummy began to look bloated. Maybe a minute would go by and I would be begging again…. and Mom would lower the bag and wait for my pleadings to subside. I think this technique is why she didn't care how long I held it afterwards. I had been holding it all along and my enemas took 20 - 30 or so minutes each. Then in three minutes the bag would go back up.. usually with a comment like… “For this to work you have to take all you can… a good enema needs to go way up inside you to really clean you out. You don't want to have to take 2 or 3 more, do you? ” I would be screaming for her to lower the bag soon. And she would. She would finally say… “I think you are done,” near the end of 2 quarts. "Hold it as long as you can." Which for me at age 6 - 12 wasn't that long from 1 - 2 quarts over that age span. If I leaked too much in her opinion… we started over. So although she never told me I was going to “Take it all” her technique was to wait out my cramps and make me take as much as SHE deemed necessary to clean me out. On another note, when I was sick, the doctor more than once ordered oral caster oil for me which I hated more than anything. I would beg for an enema instead. You guessed it… I got oral caster oil and three enemas… every day for 2 days!!! Go figure!

My girlfriend in college gave me a 4 quart Soapsuds enema. She made me hold it for 20 minutes and threatened a paddling if I spilled a drop of it!

If we didn't take the whole bag after lunch was another trip to the bathroom floor!!!!

If we didn't take the whole bag after lunch was another trip to the bathroom floor!!!!

That definitely sounds familiar!

Of course. It was required. The enema had to be fully taken and then held to do its work. Mom was no nonsense

I can recall several girl friends that have given saying keep going, you need to take the whole bag and hold it, i was often given distracting support that would end In climax once I held it to their desired time… Good times

Made to take it all or she would start all over with the soapy bag and than the rinse bag. Yes she was true to her word. I think she really like giving the enemas to me.

I’m sure I had to take it all but now I don’t know if it was a full bag or not. It always seemed like a lot but I’m not sure it was full. I remember one time when my mom said, “If you take your enema now, I won’t make you take as much as your dad will give you later.“

Enemas we’re always the solution and they were always crampy and painful. I hated them…until later…

Not directly that I “Must” take it, but I was given the alternative of a multi-laxative regimen, if I didn't want an enema.

I chose the enema!

My siblings and I were told to take the full 2 qt enema or receive a hairbrush spanking and 20 minutes of corner time which would be followed by another 2 qt enema. That happened only one time to me when I was about 12 years old. After the second enema, it was nearly impossible to sit on the hard toilet seat cuz my butt was so sore.

She did not REQUIRE me to take it all but encouraged me to. Telling me that the more of the enema water I take, and the longer I hold it, the better it will clean me out. Saying the she takes the whole bag full but it is only partially full for me and she knows that I can do it if I try. She would stop the flow when asked and then restart to help me take it all. It usually worked and I could take all of the water in the bag. By the time I was 12 she filled it completely and I could usually take it all. It was a B.F. Goodrich Coronet combo bag just like I have now and it holds just over 2 ¼ quarts.

The winner takes it all 😛😛😛😎😎😎

When Mom was handling the bulbs, I never knew how much was in store for me.

The enamel irrigaror held 1 liter. I actually only used this for punishment enemas.

When I was 9 or 10 years old, an open-topped rubber bag reinforced our enema equipment in the bathroom. When this was filled, one could hear: "we'll only stop when it's completely empty". A sentence like fire...

I heard that from my mom many, many times. As a boy, I hated to hear that, especially when the bag was still half full and I thought I was going to explode.

There were a couple times when I convinced her that I really couldn't hold it any longer. On the plus side, she allowed me to go to the bathroom. On the negative side, she repeated the enema.

Yes, this phrase was ingrained in my upbringing, although it was not offered as a threat or command, rather as an encouragement for me to be cleaned thoroughly and feel my best. As this was a regular occurrence each Sunday, I got VERY familiar with this phrase.