Being Uncooperative getting an Enema

I remember some things about getting an enema when I was 5 quite vividly, but I don't remember details about how much struggling my sister and I did, or how much crying or whining. I do have a visceral memory of feelings that go along with crying and complaining. And whatever we actually did, it was enough to make our mother not want to continue giving us enemas. She left home shortly after – not as a result of the enema thing! – and when we went to live with her at Grandma's house a few years later, I was desperate to have Mother or Grandma give me an OTK enema, but Mother unfortunately was uncooperative.

I remember getting them occasionally when I was young. Mom would use the 4oz. red bulb with the black bakelite nozzle.

I was rather ambivalent about them.

Not even an option when i was growing up. The first thing that happened once the decision had been made was that i was stripped totally naked. At least for me, being in that position, me totally naked exposed and vunerable and her fully dressed, set the tone for what was coming. In a way it took the fight right out of me, i was transformed into her compliant enema boy

No point in being "uncooperative" the alternative, a higher than label dose of either Milk Of Magnesia or later bisacodyl tablets was uncomfortable and restricted where you could go a lot longer than an enema did

Might as well take the quick out.

With physical strength never the opposite, because mom and grandma were adults ... I had no choice ... I had to take without making fuss. When I understood that they were preparing water for my enema, I began to protest and plead. Maybe only two or three times managed to avoid enema ... but I had to do next day. As an adult I did not protest because as a big girl you must understand without protesting.

Being uncooperative was not much of an option in our house. When mom decided you were getting an enema there was no getting out of it. Both my sister, brother and I protested every enema to no avail. We would either get threatened with a spanking, get a spanking or the dreaded ‘your father can help when he’s home’. While I never took it this far my brother did when he was 14 or 15. Dad came home, heard the news and Steve was immediately dragged into my parents bedroom and given a session with the belt followed my 2 enemas. In my house enemas were done in a reasonably private way but not this one doors were left open and the commotion was loud enough for everyone to hear

I hated enemas as a kid. I hated the cramps from the hot soapy water. I would lie about having a BM but it did no good.

When I refused to let my mom give me an enema, my dad would spank me until I relented and took the enema.

The bag would be hung from the top of the shower door. I'd have to lie on my back, naked, my butt against the shower door, one hand under my butt to raise it while the other hand held the nozzle in place as there was barely enough penetration to force

the hot soapy cramping fluid into me with the bag hung so high. I'd have to take the whole 2 quarts, even if it meant

multiple enemas if I couldn't hold it all. I didn't start liking enemas until I was an adult, living alone. I still like the idea of being forced to take an enema, even if it means being forcibly stripped, held down or tied in a position where I can't resist.