I remember so well the rituals and routine for "enema time" when I was a kid. If I felt sick or had a fever or was just "out of sorts" my aunt who raised me would usually remove all my clothes except my underwear, put me to bed, call the doctor, report what my condition was, and get his orders. Always, always, she would return to my bedroom with the message, "Dr. Hart said to give you an enema." I would know either to undress to my underwear if I hadn't been already and wait on the bed, or stay in bed while she prepared the enema and until she called me into the bathroom. When she said, "Come on in" I would go in, slip my underwear or pajamas off, always with an erection, and lie on my left side in the bathtub. She would reach over and spread my buttocks, insert the tube and click the clamp. I had to take all the water at once. The volume was usually a quart or a quart and a half. Neither of us ever said much during the enema. When she was finished, I would stand up in front of her and sit on the toilet. I was to wait until she came back to look at what I had "accomplished." I would either go back to bed or get another enema. Standing naked in front of her was very embarrassing. But needless to say, I enjoyed these experiences immensely. I usually had some reason once or twice a month.