Did you easily accept being given enemas as a child?

A question from someone who did not receive enemas growing up. For those of you who received enemas on a regular or fairly regular basis-did you begin to accept them without a fuss? Or did you end up fighting, arguing, generally trying to resist the enema? If that vwas the case how did Mom handle it? Spankings? Help from a relative or neighbor? Just curious.

~ cnmtman

I always put up a fuss but that didn"t change anything. If I fussed too much, I got another one for a punishment.

Me fuss...you got to be kidding. :-)

I received only one at the age of 4 when I had a high fever and the doctor said to give me a cold water enema to get the fever down. I was scared and squealed when I got full. But, the job got done and I survived. At the age of 12 I started doing enemas by myself when the family was out - been at it ever since.

Not at first, but as early as age 6 I started enjoying them, and had my first orgasm at age 8 getting an enema over mommy's lap

enematically

Steve

I offered token resistance as a child when my parents demanded I have one. Since then? Are you kidding!

My first remembered enemas, at 4 and 5, were not easily accepted beause I felt "invaded." by the black nozzle at the end of the enema can and hose, so I did fuss and cry. Things went better in later enemas, but never to the point that I would actually ask for one.

I don't remember of ever resisting. I liked the attention that it gave me. 😃

I always tried to resist when younger but it did no good istill received the Enema!

Got weekly enemas from age five till I was 15. early on would cry beg scream and would get spanked then the enemas. would warn about the spankings and then say ok I will count and if you don't stop that is the # of enemas you will get... The first time he got to five... it was a long night

I struggled and resisted whenever my Mom gave me an enema until I reached my early teens. After that I tried to cooperate just to get it over with, but still squirmed and complained when the hot soapsuds cramped me and I felt like I couldn't hold it in any longer.

My first was at a early age with a bulb syringe and I didn't know what it was but soon found out.It was not until 5 or 6 years later when the combo hot water bottle was used to give me a enema.Have been hooked every since.

I don't remember a time that I didn't like enemas. I was diagnosed with chronic constipation and received an enema almost weekly.

Mom never seemed to mind giving the enemas. She was always gentle and never seemed to be a hurry. Even though the enemas were large I never minded them.

I did, because before my first one, my father(who was my only parent) went over the whole thing with me. He did so with the empty bulb on the coffee table in front of us. He let me handle it as much as I wanted to. He also told me right when he was explaining how everything works that, the reason the hard part on the was the length is was is because it needs to reach far enough up that I can't stop the water from going in by trying to hold back.

He just explained that fighting, screaming or resisting was only going to make it worse, and make it harder for both of us. I was not going to get out of it, and that was that.

He also explained that, while neither of us was going to like doing this, it was not going to be fun no matter what.

When I asked if it was going to hurt, he said he was going to be as gentle as he could, there could be no complete promises that it would not hurt. He said that, if I did it right, it won't hurt too much. Enough to make me say OUCH! but not enough to make me cry. He said I could "make it hurt less, maybe keep it from hurting at all by NOT fighting it at all." He would try everything he could to keep it from hurting, I could do a lot more to keep it from hurting than he could.

When he had gone over everything, he asked me if I had any questions, and answered tho ones I had.

One of the questions I had was whether he had ever had one himself, He got out his big 3-qt bag, filled it with tap water, held it up to his tummy, and showed me the size of enema he had to take sometimes. Then he held the 4-oz bulb up to my tummy and said, "see the difference?"

At that point, he got a fresh towel, spread it out on my bed, said, "This won't be any fun at all for either of us, but the sooner we start, the sooner we'll finish! I'm going to get the bulb ready. I need you to take off your shoes, tights and panties(I was wearing a dress, with "little leggs tights.) You can leave the dress on if you want to. I'll be right back!"

The whole enema went well, I didn't fight at all, and I didn't cry either, though I did come close once.

I hated them as a kid. There was definitely no love/hate, just hate. I screamed and struggled every time. Mom usually held me down and pushed my legs over my head. I don't ever remember her punishing me for resisting though.

As I have mentioned before my Mom keep Ivory soap in a jar melting all the time, and when she made the bag up for use there was always hotel size Ivory bars floating in the it. She would hang it on the shower curtain rod, that today I know generates speed and pressure during flow causing cramps from “HELL”. The volume of the her enemas was a mystery to me too, they ranged from a half to a full bag, I never knew until I went in the bathroom but the smell of Ivory was all over our small house. I was maybe 13 or 14 when she finely gave it up, there was a degree of a fight rolling and resisting in the tub on a bed of towels. During my youth in the mid-50’s my Dad had skinny belts maybe ½ wide, just the threat “I’m going to get your father’s belt”, always, I mean always made me stop and lay still. I swear I got cramps when I walking in the bathroom………her solution was so vile. But about the time she gave it up was when I started experimenting on my own with basic tap water and then later finding the right Ivory/Water/Temperature/Hight blend like so many of us from the 50’s. I wonder now if as I reached my teens if I was offer the opportunity to give my self the enema things would have been more civil, you know the “Mom’s way is the right way ****** H3 !

I don't remember ever putting up a fight when Mom announced I was getting an enema.

It was never erotic in any sense however, which makes me ask why I made the association.

It wasn't long before I was sticking the douche nozzle up my own rear.

I can hardly believe the abuse some folks on our board withstood as children; laundry soaps, extremely strong soap solutions, bags at multiple heights, ridiculous volumes on children. My pediatrician told my mother no more than a pint up to age 12 and NO soap, just tap water. At 12 I got moved to 1 qt. By 12 I loved it.

My mother didn't like enemas herself and I only ever saw her prepare one for herself once in my life. She was an ExLax freak all the years she was alive. She looked at enemas as a very unpleasant procedure for anyone and she wanted to get them over with ASAP; so she held the bag high to hurry it along and I got terrible cramps.

Not for the first one hundred (LoL). Seriously, though, it didn't take long, or that many spankings, before I came to realize: a) That I was going to get them anyway, b) That they really weren't all that bad (Mum never used excessive soap or volume), and c) That it was faster to get it over with if I capitulated when it was first announced, especially if I skipped the spanking step. (LoL) As time went on, I came to enjoy the social time with Mum; it was one of the few times when I had her complete undivided attention.

Happy Waterings,

Cos

At first in my younger days I would beg mom not to give me an enema the hole time crying and then I got to liking them but acted up a storm and loved every minute of them

In our family no one accepted an enema without a bit of a protest and that's likely why I was always whiny and reluctant to accept my fate without some show of negative. It was never major however, and mom was always very kind, but very firm. Truth to tell her enemas were never painful and if I cramped she'd always wait until the cramp had passed before finishing.

I remember that towards the end of an enema I'd usually say I was full, that I'd had enough, that I didn't need any more! Mom would tell me she knew it was uncomfortable and she was sorry but she had to give me some more. Again, she was kind and gentle but always firm.

When mom said "enema time", i was always receptive because I would actually need one. . .never a fuss.

It's not easy to accept this at the first time, the feelings of worry, excited and embarrassed make me remember it forever

Yes I did easily accept enemas as a child because everyone else around me in the children's hospital got them too for surgery prep or constipation. I never put up a fuss . In fact, I really loved the attention. For me enemas were love at the first one.I did things to get more of them like cheating on the BM chart that hung on the boys bathroom door.I got free enemas that way. I guess I would have admit the best enemas came from the new nurse recruits who used my little butt to practice on. In the twelve years I was at the hospital,I had several surgeries that required enema prep. By the time I was released at age fourteen I was hooked on enemas forever.

Of course not! When that nurse came round and I saw what she was going to give me I thought "No! That's not going up my butt, I'm getting out of here!" I couldn't, of course - the adults were all clustered together, ready to grab me, drive me back to the bed with the towels over it, push me down and spread my legs...

(No wonder I participated in pretend gang-rapes in later life!)

And when mum gave me a Fleet after that, she must have known in advance that it would freak me out and that she'd definitely need dad's help to wrestle me into position...

I don't think I ever resisted an enema or suppository. I have no memory of my first enema, but by the time I was 5 and entered "primary school" (no kindergarten, then, where I grew up), I would fake being sick so I would get an enema and stay home from school. Before that, I remember fibbing to Mom when she asked when I'd had my last bm knowing that I'd soon be over Mom's lap, smelling the Ivory soap. It felt "good" on my insides and wonderful in my little pucker as she inserted the nozzle and squeezed the bulb.

Was a wiggler and a squimer, but knew better than to fight them. Otherwise a thorough spanking would be included.

Yes, I did. My Mom only gave me enemas when I really needed them. I always enjoyed the process. I don't remember ever putting up a fuss about having an enema.

Oh yes but later I came to like and except them. Then sneak them as a teen.

I would fuss about being given an enema, but mom was relentless and I would get one anyway. As I got a little older I realized that I could always try to talk her out of one, but I failed to just suffer through getting one. Just getting an enema was better than getting both a spanking and the enema.