Mother's Punishment

Mother's punishment did it for me. It's weird how something like this affects your mind for the rest of your life. I'm what most consider an alpha male, but I become completely submissive if a woman tells me she's going to give me an enema, which has been part of every relationship I've had over the years.

I was 7 or 8 when this began, sometime in the early1950s.

When I came through the door, Mother was waiting. I can't remember now what I'd done, but I knew I was in trouble. Mother told me she was going to spank me.

"No Mommy, please don't spank me," I pleaded.

"What else can I do?" she asked.

"I don't know. But, please don't spank me." I was desperate.

"If not a spanking, what shall I do?"

"I don't know Mommy, please do something else."

"Well, since your spankings seem to be soon forgotten, I've been thinking of trying something else. Would you like me to try something different?"

"Yes Mommy, anything."

"Okay then, I'm going to give you an enema."

My stomach lurched and anxiety washed over me. The enemas I had received were terribly humiliating and distressing. I hadn't thought of that possibility. "Oh no, Mommy," I wailed."Please, not one of them. They're worse than a spanking."

"It's too late. You asked for a new punishment, and you are going to get it. Go get undressed and put on your pajamas." She turned and started for the bathroom. "I'll call you when it's ready."

I was afraid to argue further. So, I went into my room and changed into my pajamas. My stomach churned as I listened to her making the preparations in the bathroom. I was filled with dread. Yet, I was feeling a strange sense of anticipation. When she finally called, I replied that I didn't want to come. "Get in here!" was her firm response. I knew better than to openly defy her.

Reluctantly, I entered the bathroom. I couldn't take my eyes off the bulging semi-transparent latex enema bag hanging from the shower curtain rod. It was filled to the brim with two and a half quarts of warm soapy water. I know how much it held, because I actually measured it once when no one was home.

The scent of latex and ivory soap filled the room. Soapsuds trickled down the outside of the bag. She was holding the biggest black nozzle that I'd ever seen. It looked menacing. I learned later that it was a feminine nozzle. A jar of Vaseline sat on the counter. A towel was spread on the floor. Though she was very business like, her expression betrayed her enjoyment of the situation.

Later in life, I realized that she had been wanting to give me enemas for punishment for a long time. But, in her mind she needed my permission to make it acceptable. I think it sort of turned her on, and she felt somehow wrong about it. However, once I had given her permission, there was no turning back. As an aside, she never did anything sexually inappropriate, and I have always felt that her guilt was unfounded.

She told me to take off my pajamas. One last protest was met with a very inflexible "Mind me!" My embarrassment was intense as she quietly watched me strip. She waited until I was naked, then let some water flow out of the nozzle into the bathtub to expel the air from the hose.

It sprayed out from several holes, giving me a preview of what would soon be happening inside of me. Then, she applied Vaseline to the nozzle. Seeing these final preparations did nothing to curb my apprehension. I'm certain she knew it, and did it that way on purpose.

She made me get down on my knees and chest over the towel, facing away from her (I had always received enemas in that position). I was totally exposed. She knelt down between my legs.

The embarrassment was nearly unbearable as she spread my cheeks and looked at my most private opening. My breath caught as she put the nozzle against it and slowly slid it all the way in. It was big, but it didn't hurt. It felt shamefully pleasurable.

In a curious way I sort of wanted the enema I was about to get. At the same time, I hoped for a last moment reprieve. When I heard the "click" of the clamp being opened, all hope of escape vanished.

At that moment something peculiar happened inside of me. The warm water forcefully gushing into me felt good. I was enjoying being forced to experience these sensations. Even the shame was enjoyable.

All to soon, the cramping began. It quickly went from mild to severe. I clenched down, trying to stop the source of my distress. My effort was futile. I began to cry and beg her to let me up. She stopped the flow, but refused to release me.

She told me that a punishment enema was supposed to hurt, and I had only taken a little. She said it in a way that meant she was going to give me more; a lot more.

When I settled down a little, she asked me if I felt better, and was ready for more. I knew that if I tried to trick her, it could be worse for me. So, I said "Yes," Click! The enema gushed into me again.

The cramping began quickly. It was bad. When my crying became desperate, she paused once again. This dismaying scene was repeated several times. The last time she paused the flow, the cramping only eased up slightly.

After a few moments, she told me there was only a little water left and I was going to take it all. Click! The cramping was severe. Helplessly, I squirmed and cried.

My pleading fell on deaf ears. Instead, she made me look up at the semitransparent enema bag and watch the water level go down as she continued my enema. There was more than just a little left in the rubber bag. Relentlessly, she allowed it to flow as I bawled. Finally the bag gurgled empty.

She closed the clamp and removed the nozzle. As I jumped up for the relief I needed so desperately, she left the room. As the pressure subsided, I gazed in fascination at the empty enema bag dangling from the shower rod. The glistening nozzle that had felt so wickedly pleasurable, rested on the bottom of the bathtub. I felt a pleasant tingle.

When I came out of the bathroom, she was waiting. "Do you think that will help you remember to be a good boy?" she asked. "Yes," I replied. I knew I wouldn't soon forget the humiliation and cramping of that enema. Besides, I was afraid to tell her anything else. If she thought it didn’t work, she might do it again. Alas, my reasoning didn’t work.

"Good," she replied. "I've decided that from now on when you're naughty, I'm going to give you enemas instead of spankings. They're not only good for punishment, a cleansing is good for you. Now, let's go back in the bathroom. We're not finished. You can watch me get your next enema ready."

She had a bit of a smile on her face as I abjectly followed her into the bathroom. My stomach was in turmoil as I watched her re-fill the enema bag with warm soapy water. She hung it back on the shower curtain rod. Then, she cleaned the nozzle, re-applied Vaseline, and burped the nozzle.

Before she began my second enema, she said she knew this was embarrassing for me, and that if I didn't want her to tell anyone about my enemas, it could be our secret. The last thing I wanted, was for anyone to know I got any enemas at all, let alone punishment enemas. So, that was our agreement.

It surprised me how quick I was to get down over the towel and present my bottom for the nozzle. Mother and I both discovered that enemas made me very docile and compliant. There was no use in complaining or trying to avoid enemas. My mother was a true dominant. When the enema bag was full, I was going to get it.

The nozzle still felt good going in. The cramps were a little slower to start, but she made up for it by not stopping the flow as often. The intense cramps were endless. I wailed and pleaded almost continuously once the cramps began, until she finished my enema. Then, we did it all again. I received a total of four enemas that day.

I got into a lot less trouble in the future. But, like most boys, some forbidden things were just too much fun to avoid doing. Besides, with my mother’s discovery that enemas made me more obedient and manageable, I was in for it. Any time I became a little defiant or smart mouthed, we were in the bathroom for some enemas, as soon as we were alone in the house.

I got enemas once or twice a month every year from then on. I always got at least two enemas, and sometimes as many as four, especially if I had been really naughty, or made the mistake of being defiant. I learned to be quite obedient during my enemas. I knew Mother liked giving me enemas, and I wasn’t going to give her an excuse to give me more, or make them worse.

Enemas always made me cry and bawl. Many times, I began crying well before the cramping began. Sometimes, I started crying at just the sight of an enema, before I even had to present for it. That was especially true after the first one, as my emotions progressively became more open during each enema. Mother always encouraged crying, telling me that she expected it.

As I said, she never did anything sexually inappropriate. But, when I started into puberty, I started to get erections before my enemas. It was horribly humiliating to have my body betray me like that. They went away as soon as the cramping began, but they came right back for the next enema.

Mother mostly just ignored them. One time she did make a comment that since I seemed to enjoy enemas, maybe she would tell my future wife about my enemas, so that she could continue them. She never did, but I always wished that she had.

Hi Curt, Thanks for sharing your experience with us. I really enjoyed reading your experience.

Wow, as a girl, I dont have the same experience, but it must be powerful.Were your balls/penis ever handled or touched? It seems that would be visable in this position.....I think? : )

That is extremely hot and embarrassing. Thanks for sharing this experience of yours

In hindsight, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish whether some of those soapy enemas I got from mom were really intended as punishment or if there was some necessity for the procedure. In any case, they sure had an impact on my life.

If a bowel movement was missed, an enema was sure to be given. I viewed many of those enemas as punishment for my failure to comply with expectations. If I ate something that caused distress, the enema was punishment for indulging in something I shouldn't have.

Those few times that I got an extra soapy enema for teasing my sister about her enemas, I suppose that it was crystal clear in my mind. It was also pretty clear when a spanking accompanied those ordeals.

Looking back enemas were given to all of us 2 sisters & 1 brother, But were always were given enemas when we stayed home from school. I think looking back if mother knew we were not sick she had a difference way to make us move my bowels. She would walk in my room with a full enema bag but she would walk in with a large glass of MOM the white stuff awful taste make me drink it all ( I never never knew how much she gave us) when she hear the toilet she would come back ask did I move my bowel were they water of not if you had the runs she would Waite an hour before she started giving enemas. She would give enemas until there were clear, when that was over she always said maybe you will not stay home when you are not sick!!

Curt --- that was a very intense story. Thank you for sharing it with us all. I can only guess the level of embarrassment you felt. Interesting how we all understand how important that part is to the whole scene.

Curt that was a pretty amazing story! Sounds like a wonderful fantasy! One I would someday like to live..

That is a great story about your childhood experiences, Curt. Like 'one of 1050', I too recieved enemas whenever I stayed home from school (this was in the 50's and early 60's)and occasionally when my mother was put out with me, I would find myself across her knees for a good voluminous soapy syringing I'm sure in lieu of punishment, or perhaps as her idea of punishment. But usually I just got spanked.

Liknyc25

Yes, that position does leave a male well exposed. My wife has taken frequent advantage of it, when giving me enemas. But, my mother was always quite proper. There was never any sexual touching, or even anything that suggested sexuality. I don't think she would have ever suggested enemas as punishment, even though I'm certain she liked doing it.

1050

I remember one time that my mother made me take some kind of laxative pill. I have no idea why she thought I needed it. I was quite rebellious about taking it. I made the mistake of telling her it wouldn't work. My dad was home at the time, and she didn't respond to my. But, the next day, when we were alone, she gave me a big soapy enema.

I can relate to what Curt wrote. It seemed my mother enjoyed giving me enemas also. My mom had a sister that was 20 or 21 years younger than her and she was only 5 years older than me. There were many times my aunt would be over our house and watched me get an enema. I was young, but could tell my mom enjoyed giving me an enema in front of her little sister. I also had a sister 3 years older than me, but the embarrassment was different when my young aunt watched because she seemed to enjoy watching. Luckily for me my enemas stopped at around 10 or so years old, why I don't know, my mom just stopped giving them to me and never asked why.

My mother used enemas for health reasons as well as punishment in addition to spanking and that up to the age of 12 or so, after that she left discipline up to my dad. In any case, my sister and I were given enemas on a weekly basis, usually after school on Fridays, but she would often give an enema folowing a spanking, for some reason, always a rather large volume one and she would purposedly hang the bag higher, so the enema would produce cramps. In retrospect I believe she enjoyed that. Ah, the good 'ole days!

Thanks for sharing, really enjoyed the read.... Now, I think I'll just sit back and indulge myself in a fantasy. Boy, if I keep reading stories like this my right hand is going to look start liking a taco!

Curt2299, thank you for sharing that experience. Truly intense!

Well, this is the kind of regime I grew up suffering under. And in our house the "punishment" element was never too veiled, even before my parents started adding spanking to the suppositories/enemas.

My wife gave me a four quart enemas I was knee/chest in the bath tub when I had taken all of it she yanked the nozzle out. But then she started pushing roma tomatoes up my hole, shestoped at ten and I came without being touched and she started all over. We fucked all night and took turns giving each other enemas and tomatoes crazy orgasms he girl friend taught her that trick...........

I started getting enemas when I was a 4 or 5 yreas old I guess. My mother would fill me everytime I said I wasnt feeling well. I got to admit sometimes I wanted to stay home from school, but even during the summer when school was out Id get them. She used a full bag.

Sometimes she woud give me a half bag then wait for me to expel and then a second or even a third. And of course she would sit on the side of the tub till I was finished useing the toilet supervising. I guess somewhee along the line I learned to like them and Ive continue into my adulthood getting and giving them with a girlfriend of mine

GREAT story Curt, thanks for writing that up for us. I suppose the reason why I think it's great is that it was very similar for most of us who are reading here.

enematically

Steve

My mother stopped giving me enemas around 11 or 12. I can't nail it down exactly because there was no announcement or significant ending. I was still waiting for the next one when I was 14. Then, it dawned on me that there would be no next one. Nuts!

Nozzles for enemas was the only thing she ever put in me. No thermometers, suppositories, or anything else. Should I feel deprived?

It realy takes the violence out of dicipline doesn't it! I don't know that I could have pulled it off as well as your mother did it for you. Have you had oportunity to practice a real diciplinary enema?

Thanks for sharing

In all my life Mom never spanked me. If i was bad or acted up, it was always someting was wrong with my tommy. Mom would say "I'm going to wash all the badness out, but good" Then I was escorted to the bathroom. The big bag was ready, and Mom kept her promise and I got a big one. After she was done with me I was real good for a long time, but the parting words were, " Next time your bad you will get a real big Enema.

Lzrd, my life has just taken a big turn, and I am getting real disciplinary enemas from my wife, who I never imagined would even be interested in doing that, let alone what she has done. You can read what has been going on in the stories section. I called it "A change and a "warning."

I can relate to you Curt. Only my punishment enema's included a spanking with her oval oak hair brush. and from time to time instead of a bag she would use an 8oz bulb which was far more embarrassing because of the multiple insertions.

Curt, Wish I had had your mother to raise me back in the fifties and sixties. Mine did administer enemas, even occasionally unannounced ones, but usually we got them when we needed one or stayed home from school - which was a sort of punishment, I guess - but she never gave them for punishment per se. She too waited until I or one of my sibs were home alone with her and then she would haul us into the bathroom for a session across her lap with the bulb syringe. For punishment, spanking was the norm for us way back then . Thanks for your story.

Very good Story..

Those early experiences with mother do hard wire us for the rest of our life. They would call it child abuse, or molestation now, but most of us wouldn't. Most of us wouldn't change a thing.

Our mother's punishment was very plain and simple and was only applied if we talked back or lied to her. The guilty party, usually me, was called into the kitchen, told of our sins, then sent off to our bedroom where we were to strip off to a sleepshirt and a pair of panties. When we reported back to the kitchen, we had to sit and watch as mom mixed up her dreaded glass of castor oil and orange juice to which we than drank it and then was promptly sent off to our room. Only when we needed to go the the bathroom were we allowed to leave

My parents never spanked me, or punished me on other ways. Hm, but my childhood best friend's parents ... Huhh! They were living on countryside, and I spent weeks there. In those weeks all the rules in their house was for me too. And sometimes we broke the rules ... The punishment was spanking, what for at first seemed very cruel to me. I remember the very first time when I was between 13-14 years old, and got some cherries from a neighbour's tree, without his knowing. He observed us, an told everything to my friend's mom, leting the punishment on her. Huhh, it was very embarrassing and painfull for me. When we got home, my friend's mom told us everything, and that we will get punishment for our act, when my friend's dad will be home. That was in the evening. When he arrived home, my friend's mom told everything and they decided about our punishment in front of us. Getting spanked was obvious, but they want to remind us, that we've done something very wrong. So they bring in a bowl of cherries, we had to bent over the bed, with face down, ass up in the air. That was the first time in my life when I got something inserted in my ass. In fact a lot of cherries was what I got, I don't know how many. It was very embarrassing staying there exposed, and having cherries inserted in my ass. Than came the spankling with belt. It was awfull, but the punishment continued after with inserting in our ass soap sticks. After a half an hour corner-time we were allowed to go to the bathroom, where we got an enema. The spanking was really painfull, the welts I had for almost a week, but the most worse part was the humiliation with cherries and soap in my ass, and the enema.

So they bring in a bowl of cherries, we had to bent over the bed, with face down, ass up in the air. That was the first time in my life when I got something inserted in my ass.

Cherries ... boy, I wonder what George Washington would have thought of this? ... ha ha