Was your mother a hanger, holder, or squeezer?

Mom was a holder. She had a white enamel enema can and she used it often. She was a nurse and believed everyone needed an enema regularly.

Mother had an white enema can and there was a 20 inch colon tube at the end. She would call me into the bathroom when the can was full of warm soapy water and tell me to sit on the toilet. Then she would lube the tube with Vaselene an the magic would begin. Stay tuned.

My mom used a bulb syringe on me and squeezed the enema up my bum forcefully most of the time.

No wonder so many of us got started with enemas this way -- my mom was a holder. She was a nurse and would give me over the tub enemas before she left for work - my earliest enema memories was looking back and she her in a white uniform holding that bog red bag over me. One day her friend came in to pick her up (also a nurse) and the bathroom door was open and mom handed her the bag to finish. I had a crush on her and was totally mortified -- got the first twinges of an erection though ... have played the scene out all over and it's just a fun now as it was then ...

She was a squeezer when I was very little but I quickly (around 4-5 graduated to the bag and then she would hold the bag in one had and hold the nozzle in my butt in the other. Was was pretty corporative about it since I was my older brother get an enema from the bag and so modeled after that.

Mom was a holder. I would often have the audience of dad and my two younger sisters. I felt so out of control with the odd filling sensation in my belly and the horrible cramping that would follow. I would have preferred it to just be only my mother there. Later as a teenager in the shower I wanted that feeling again yet the red bag was gone. I laid down under the running bathtub faucet and somehow managed to press my anus against it. I loved the sudden surge of water that flowed in. In late teens I just went to the store just before closing, heart beating out of my chest and bought my own red bag. My face must have been a darker shade of red then the bag. I was desparate. I had to get filled again, and again...I was hooked.

A Hanger. She is an R.N.

When I was a little baby, she is squeezer but now she is a hanger

My first enema was with a bulb syringe. mom had me lay on my back with my fight foot close to my butt then she filled me with the bulb syringe. the feeling of nozzle going in and out felt good. I was about 4 at the time and remember it well. when I got older she then used the bag with the enema pipe, I later experimented with the other nozzles that were in the box

Mine was a holder gripping the yellow traveling bag at the top and holding it straight up as high as she could with one hand while keeping the nozzle in place with the other!

Mine was a hanger. The Jones enema can was hung on a nail in the wall in the bathroom between the toilet and the vanity. The red hose and black nozzle laid on the vanity along with the moist bar of Ivory soap that had been used to make my enema and a little jar of Vaseline. Like others have said, it was probably was a little too high as I remember every enema hurt somewhat.

If my mom had given enemas in the bathroom instead of on the bed (my preference too) I am sure there would have been a nail permanently in the wall. I have posted before that our classic enema can was held a bit too high and there may have been too many swishes of Ivory in the can, perhaps causing jimc's discomfort too?

My mom hung the bag from the shower rod. I would be in the tub on a towel. Knees to chest on my left side, looking at the wall away from her.

My mother always hung the bag from a nail or hook placed in the wall.

LH 🌹

When I was little mom was a squeezer, until I was 7 got the bulb. At about 71/2 the bag was introduced so she was a hanger from then on unless we were on vacation then she was a squeezer. in any event she was always very attentive.

My mother was a little bit of all 3. Like so many, Mom started out giving me small enemas with a small bulb... squeeze. Then I graduated to the large Rexall Victoria Combination syringe. Usually hung by a nail on the side of the wall. (Hanging). However there were times when the tube would become plugged that she either held the bag higher or to the bag off the hok and squeezed it. Mom knew what enemas meant to me and she helped out regularly.

I remember telling mom I had a stomach ache. She said go up stairs take off your pants and underwear and lie down on the bed. After a few minutes she would appear at the door with a large water bottle. She would have me lie on my stomach and insert the nozzle into my rear. Then, she would squeeze the bag lying between my feet. I remember the surge and then steady pressure going in. At the time scared to death but also terribly arroused.The pressure continued until air at the end signaled the enema was over. I then had to lie there for about 10 minutes until she removed the nozzle and allowed me to go get rid of the load.

I realized early on what a stomach ache would result in and tried to arrange for treatments as often as possible without arrousing questions about frequency.

My mom was a hanger from way back. She made sure I got a visual of the entire process, from the filling of the bag to the lubing of the nozzle.

Being pulles into the bathroom,the opentop bag was on the medicene cabnet the hose coiled in the sink,and blacked tube greased and ready. Then Mom announced WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET and over her lap,tube firmly in place cheeks together. The high enema started no stoping no mercy,I could only whimper.Then it stoped,but the tube stayed in while the enema worked. Mom was pleased that i got a good enema, and that really hurt. Thank god I never got a BAD ENEMA. I hate too think about that.......

Yup - my mom was nurse and a holder, never a hanger. Sometimes when she was late for work, she held the bag higher to get it all in there ... classic red Cameo open top bag with black nozzle ...

My bed was the bottom half of an old army dble bunk bed and mom would hang the bag from the spring of the top bunk.

My Mom was a hanger. If she was giving me an enema in bed she would hang the bag from a hook on the cupboard door beside my bed which put the hose end of the bag about 2 feet above my anus when I was lying curled up on my left side. If she was giving it in the bathroom she would have me kneel in the bathtub with my chest low and my bottom raised, and she would hang the bag from the shower curtain rod using a running shoe lace just the right length to put the hose end 2 feet above my anus. When I was being given an enema at my Grandparents' home it would always be kneeling in the bathtub with the bag hung directly on the handle of a window over the tub which placed the bag about 2 and a half feet above my anus, making for a more forceful flow and worse cramping than at home.

My mother was a holder. There was no place in my room to hang it. She would give me my enemas with me in the sims position on my bed. She prepared the soapy enemas in the bathroom and brought her bulging red combination syringe bag with hose and black nozzle, the vaseline and a towel for me to lay on into my bedroom. She would lay the enema bag on the bed while she greased up the nozzle with the vaseline and inserted it in my butt. Mom then held the bag up as high as she could with one hand, opened the clamp with the other and held the nozzle in me while filling me with all that warm soapy water. If I complained of cramps, which I always did, mom would close the clamp for a minute and then open it again until I had taken the full bag. When she gave herself enemas and when I was old enough to take my enemas myself, the bag was hung from a hook on the bathroom cabinet. Enemas given away from home were either given with me on a bed or on the bathroom floor. I don't remember her ever giving me an enema with a bulb so I guess she was never a squeezer.

My mom was a holder or she would have my father come in and hold the bag while she gave it to me while I lay on my stomach on the bed. She would mix up the warm soaply water in a pan pour it in the red enema bag and then call my father in to pull down my underwear and then proceed with the enema.

My mother was a hanger, and my grandmother was a holder and squeezer. She also used LifeBoy soap while my mother used Ivory Soap. My mother would stop the flow every so often while my grandmother never stopped until there was an involuntary discharge.

My mom was a holder. We had no indoor toilet. The out house was not considered sanitary enough to allow a static hanging arrangement. If in the house, it was still held. I think she felt it the responsible way. I suspect the aspect of it being more personal was also a motive. This allowed more control and the message was, you were getting it from Momma, the queen of food and water.

My mom was definitely a squeezer. My earliest memories were getting my enema on her lap with a small, two ounce, infant syringe. I don't remember how many bulb fulls I got other than it was more than one or two. By the time I was in school, mom was using a regular eight ounce enema bulb. Most times I was lying on my stomach for these and typically I got five to six bulb fulls. In junior high the syringe of choice was an old fourteen ounce douche bulb, complete with shied (which I can still feel up against my butt) typically I got three or four of these. Mom stopped when I hit high school - but I still managed to find excuses to use that douche bulb from time to time,

Mom always hung the two qt.yellow bag from the shower rod with me bent over the tub. Lots of quick pressure for a little kid.

A holder. Only when the bag was almost empty she would wring to get every last drop into me.

Mom only squeezed. That's because it's difcult tl hang a four ounce infant syringe. You see, I self administered from the time I was 8 until this present day.-