Was your mother a hanger, holder, or squeezer?

My mother was a squeezer (8 oz red bulb) otk until I was about 6 or 7. Then I graduated to the bag, hung on a clothes tree pulled next to my bed.

Mine was a squeezer. But not a full bag maybe a quart or so.

Mum was a squeezer of the red bulb for the first part of my enema career.. then got into being a hanger when she wswtiched me to the big red bag 😄

My Mom was a squeezer. All my enemas as a child were with a bulb syringe and Ivory soap suds. I have vivid memories of lying on the bathroom floor as she used the bulb syringe on me. I was a with holder and was constipated quite often so she never hesitated to give me a good syringing.

Nearly all of the enemas I got were from the old enamel enema can. It was flat on one side and could be hung on the wall, but most usually she held it by the handle with one hand, while holding the nozzle in place with the other

All of the enemas I got from mom were in the kneel on the floor head down position with the bag hung from the shower rod. it was always filled with ivory soap suds for a good cleaning. I always dreaded them until I was about 12, then I started to enjoy them and the super hard on it gave me which I somehow managed to hide from mom. When the enema was finished she would remove the nozzle, and put the bag in the sink, and leave the room,so I could get up and use the toilet. While I was emptying out I would usually get off. I still take my enemas in the way and remember mom.

My mother used to believe in a high Bag she would have a longer hose of at least 7 feet long so you got a rapid flow enema she had a 3-4 quart enema bag so you got a full enema. That is why I used to Pee before the Enema or Enemas I got

She was a hanger, suspending it from the shower rod. I only had a few when young but she had a very extensive assortment of tips and she used them frequently on herself. Wish I could have 'inherited' her stuff after she died but that was too risky.

My mom was a squeezer, I was always kneeling

Mine held the bag. She always ended the enema with a squeeze!

This is a simple answer. I only remember my mom being a bag hanger. It was always from the shower curtain rod above my head. She used a length of twine to bring it down to a reasonable height.

Mom was a hanger. She had both hands available to control me and the enema. One had pried apart my butt and the other inserted the rectal tip. Then while pinning me to her knees with her free arm and holding the nozzle in place, she would snap open the clamp to start the enema.

She sat on the edge of the tub, the enema bag hung from the towel bar over the tub. I couldn't see the bag so I never knew how much more I needed to take.

My mother had a hook on the side of the tub.

My mother hung the bag on the curtain rod...she preferred using the bulb on me...many, from about age 3 to about 8. Hated the humiliation then, but oh how I crave them now!😉

My mother was both a hanger and a squeezer. All through my younger years I got the 6 or 8 Oz Red Bulb full of warm Ivory Soapy Water. Once into my teens, She started using the one quart red bag with the black nozzle, but she still used the 8 oz bulb also. She loved putting nozzle's into my pink rose bud hole. That's the way I got enema's till I left home at 18. Still got it that way when I came home from college.

Mom always started with the bag hanging then finished holding it high.

Mom was a holder. My enemas were given with me in bed, on my left side. Ivory soap enemas for constipation, and cool water enemas when I had a fever. Always with the red rubber Rexall bag. When I was younger, she used the short black bakelite nozzle, then the adult nozzle when I was a "big boy". I never complained much, and she never went over my limits. We just got it over and done with.

A squeezer. Infant bulb till age 7 or so, then adult bulb.

Before the age of seven, I always got my Ivory soap enemas from a black 3oz. bulb syringe over my mother's lap. Then Mom began using our black combination bag and hose with the black adult enema nozzle attached. She hung the bag from a shower hook up on the rod and I'm sure the height contributed to the pressure and cramps I felt almost at once as she released the clamp. I don't think there was much more than a pint or so in the bag, though it seemed to bulge like it was full, but once the enema started it was non-stop. I would squeal, blubber and grunt, but offered no resistance. I had to just lie there and take all of the enema. I would crane my neck to look up at the bag to see how much enema was left for me to take and it always seemed like it would never finish going into me. Then, when I was nine, I got the last enema she would give me. This time, since I'd grown some, I got my enema sitting on the toilet and leaning way forward, but it took her using both the bag and the bulb syringe to get the job done. She started the session using the bag and I told her that I couldn't feel the enema going in (though I actually could), so she squeezed the bag a bit to add some pressure to the flow. I felt it! But since I was enjoying an enema for the first time in my life, I said that I still couldn't feel it much so she pulled the nozzle out and quickly made up some solution in the sink and switched to the bulb and squeezed more enema into me. I then informed her that I could really feel it. After injecting several bulbfulls she finished my enema with what was left in the bag. Needless to say, by the time that enema was over I was one very cleaned-out, but happy, boy!

Mom introduced me to the enema bag at the early age of about 6 or 7 holding the bag as I stood naked in the stall shower. Since discovering my sexuality around 11 y/o my every sex act be it taking a enema, sex with a partner or simply masturbating on my bed just doesn't seem complete or truly fulfilling unless I'm completely naked

Mom introduced me to enemas at a very young age with a small, red bulb syringe. At that point, I guess, Mom was a squeezer; However, as I grew in age, Mother switched to her trusted Rexall Victoria Combination syringe and would hang the red bag by its bottom tab from a small curtain rod bracket that was on the window seal above the toilet in my bathroom. Every time I went into that bathroom, I still look up to the bracket in hopes of seeing my enema bag waiting. Memories.... So at that point Mother was a hanger. Later, I remember one Saturday morning I observed Mom actually reaching up and squeezing the Victoria Water Bottle as it hung from its bottom tab. So, as a result, I guess, one might say she was both a hanger as well as a squeezer. Still later, on one of our trips, I became very constipated. Mom had not brought an enema bag with her, so she tried giving me an oral laxative. No luck... She tried again, but she again found it did not work. Mother gave up and went and bought a small, yellow folding syringe with only a douche nozzle. It came with a small white hook as well, but as soon as Mother had filled the bag and put on the curtain rod in the motel's bathroom, the small white hook broke and water went all over the place, but mostly into the tub. Mom was frustrated. She dried up the water from the floor and refilled the bag. This time Mom had to hold the bag as there was nothing to hang it by. I looked up at Mom as she stood above me holding the yellow bag. I smiled knowing that my Mom really loved me to be doing this for me. In fact, I could feel every ounce of the warm, soapy water as it flowed down the tube into my waiting body. I can honestly say that every ounce could be likened to Mom's love filling me. Not every Mom would have so lovingly given me my enemas. I was truly blessed to have my special Mother.....

She was definitely a hanger. In fact this is what was wrong with her enemas, she hung the bag too high. We had a medicine cabinet on the wall over the bathroom sink. It had a catch that would stick out on the inside of the door. She would open the door and hang it on that catch by a shoestring. Only about 6" of the hose would reach the ground. That is back when most bags came with 5' hoses. So the top of the bag was about 5' off of the ground. I would lay on the floor on my back and stare up at the bulging red bag. When she opened the metal shut off "snap" the water would just gush into my clogged up bowels. This caused instant cramping but at the same time the strong surge of water and the pressure in my rectum felt good on my prostate, forever imprinting into my mind the erotic feel of of the enema.

Mom was a holder and I remember her holding that bulging yellow travel syringe up as high as she could with one hand while holding the nozzle in with the other. An experience that I would like to repeat!

Mom was a hanger, she would put the bag on the towel rod and I would bend over the side of the tub.

My Mom was both a hanger and a holder. There was a nail high on the wall over the toilet which she used when she was giving herself an enema. When she was giving me one, weather I was in the tub or sitting on the toilet, she was a holder, encouraging me to "take it 'till it hurts a little" then asking me if I wanted "another bag of water" which she was very willing to provide. She could hardly believe it when she once gave me four quarts without so much as a little leak! I was surprised myself and did not try to repeat it again.

The bag was hung on a nail placed into the door molding. I was on the bed on my back taking the SS enema> I always got two and as I recall ( the last one about 8 or 9 years old) the bag was only half full each time. I begged, pleaded and cried all of which did no good whatsoever.

Never got an enema from Mom with a bag. I only got an enema from a bag when I found the combo bag in the linen closet one day.

I received my first enema at about 6 years of age. My mother was a hanger. There was a hook over her bath tub and that's where she kept her pumpkin style bag. She would hang the bag half filled with soapy water and get down to business. I took the enema on my back and she used her hands to gently massage my colon. I remember thinking that her voice sounded more like cooing rather than talking.

I do not remember ever getting an enema in the bathroom , all were in bed on my side . Mom held and gave , visiting nurse held and gave . Farmers wife held way up high and wouldn't stop untill bag was empty ,I was always on one side or the other . Remember thinking that she looked like the statue of Liberty , could see her in mirror ! Only recently have I put up a hook where it would be beneficial for administrator , switching to open top bags made hook necessary .

A Holder--Enamelware Irrigator (Douche Can)..Squeezer too--Small (infant) bulb--too young to recall & Dr Higginson.