Did you easily accept being given enemas as a child?

I tried to resist because the enemas I remember my mom giving me were from a enema bag, they were hot, soapy and painful and I could not hold all of the enema solution which squirted out on the bed. After several sessions as such I was then given enemas in the bath tub and held down while my mom gave me the enema and I attemped to resist without success.

Yes after my first few.I never really knew when I was going to get one,being given by my mommy.But always loved the whole process(even though I still fussed and whined alot getting them.My mommy always used the Fleet disposable ones on me,mostly child ones while growing up.

Receiving an enema as a child was never a problem for me that I recall. Whenever I had been sick for more than a couple days or so, a good warm ivory soap enema was what my folks always thought I needed to get me healthy again. My mother was a always very gentle when giving me an enema, and I never minded receiving them. At the time, I was too young to be sexually excited by an enema, but I always found the procedure pleasurable and relaxing, which I suppose is why I still enjoy giving myself solo enemas today, over 60 years later.

I always resisted but it never did any good.

I agree with healthymale6446. I really didn't have much problem taking them as a child. I actually got quite a few up until I was 10 or 11. Up until that time, I also found the procedure very pleasurable and relaxing. Once past 12, however it was a whole new game. Some of my favorite memories are from ages 10 to 15.

Never a choice, I just got them.

Successful in fighting off earliest attempts by my parents to give me nighttime enemas subsequent to the first occasion, I did soon acquire a secret craving for the experience and eventually submitted after putting up token resistance. Having younger brothers and as the eldest of six siblings, it would not have befit my "needed" macho image to let my true feelings show on the matter.

I was not fond of getting an enema and the most memorable event was when I was getting one as I laid over Mom's lap. For some reason this one I really didn't want and after the first bulb full I managed to squirm off her lap as she attempted to refill. I sat on the toilet and expelled nothing except a small amount of soapy water. Mom, ever determined that I was to get a cleaning out, got out the enema bag and I was soon getting much more than a bulb full. I remember being really afraid that that enema wouldn't work and that I'd get yet another so I held it in for as long as I could. As I got older I came to the realization that they weren't all that bad and even asked for one once when I was a teenager.

I didn't receive all that many but I always put up a futile fight to stop the procedure.

I really loved taking enemas. Mom would give them to me with regularity up until I was around age 8 always with a small bulb. Then Mom changed doctors and enemas stopped and the dreaded castoria became Mom's drug of choice. I hated it and often begged Mom to give me an enema. But, that went in one ear and out of the other faster than a scalded rabbit.

Then one day, Mom called me into the house for my medicine. I was in the yard playing with a neighbor girl. I went in and took my castoria and then returned to the yard. Dattie asked what was the medicine that Mom gave me. I told her. She stuck out her tongue and said "yuk, Mom used to give me that, but no more In fact, today, she gave me an adult enema." I told Dattie that Mom used to give me enemas but she never called it an adult enema. Dattie replied, "my Mom used to give me baby enemas with a small red bulb, but today she used a big red bag." I told her Mom used to give me enemas with a small red bulb too, but I have never had one with a bag.

Dattie soaked all this in and replied "Mike, baby enemas are with a bulb, Adult enemas are with the bag.' I inquired as to which enema did she like best. Dattie quickly spoke saying "the bag of ccourse., It was wonderful. You need to get your Mom to give you one." I decided right then and there to ask her. So, when Dattie left to go home, I went into my house, found Mom and asked for one right then and there. Mom ignored me. I countinued every day for weeks. No luck... I later secured her Mother's help in convincing her to give me one.

Finally, after 2 or 3 months of begging, pleading , and generally lying, Mom decided to help me out. Mam Maw had gone to the local Rexall and purchased Mom a new Rexall Victoria Combination Syringe for my use. Mam Maw showed me the bag before taking it into the house and eventually Mom. I just knew I was about to get one. But, again, I was wrong. 2 weeks later, Mom woke me from a sound sleep and broughjt me to the bathroom next to my bedroom

Once entering I saw a big red bag filled with water hanging next to the commode. I was so happy yet embarrashed. I left the room and went into the hall and hid. Mom called out, "Mike, if you want this here enema, come now, or I'm going to take it down and I do not want to hear anything else about adult enemas. You know what I did, I came into the room and let Mom give it to me.

Really wasn't much of an arguement. Mom would say I am going to give you an enema or you need an enema. Nothing would happen and then she would say or call me into the bathroom, When I entered she would say close the door and she was seated with the bag hanging from a hook' she would say lower your pants and bend over my lap the vaseline was there the enema was ready and quickly before I knew it I was geeting an enema!

The first enema I can remember receiving was between 4 & 5. I did not fuss or cry, I just took it. 2 bulb fulls of soapy water. After expelling the enema, I got a second enema. I think maybe I had received enemas before then, just did not remember them. Also, it was during the time that you did what you were told or you would get a spanking. Around 9 or 10 I started to really enjoy getting enemas.

I never had an enema I didn't like. I had no fear of them and at an early age accepted and enjoyed enemas. I started giving myself bulb enemas around age 7 and secret bag enemas at age ten. I got enemas from Mom until I was fourteen, where it was apparent the they excited me sexually.

The first enema I remember was at age three. I was on the kitchen table, with mom using a small red bulb syringe on me, and my dad holding my legs to my chest. I still remember him saying give him another one.

When I was a child I HATED them. Sometime around 13 yrs old I "discovered" them myself and have enjoyed them ever since. Sorry to say I have only done them solo-wish I had a helper.

Surely ... not easily ... at least until 20

My first enema was given to me by my mother and father and it was not fun. I was three, but still remember it like it was yesterday. They had me lie on my stomach on top of the ridge of the bathtub with my legs spread. I can remember the hot water rushing into me and my crying and telling that that I had to go and could not hold it in, but they insisted that I take all of it (typical hot water bottle enema bag). When the nozzle came out, they immediately put me on the toilet and the power of the expulsion almost blew me off the toilet. I remember crying a lot as it all came out. To add insult to injury, my three year older sister watched all of this and giggled the whole way through.

But when I was 5, I had to have a hernia operation (1953), was given three enemas a day in the hospital. But they were kind of fun, since the nurses were gentle, and had me play a game where after all of the enema was injected, I had to stand up, cross my legs, tighten my buttocks, and hold it in for 10 minutes while she went to get the bedpan. It felt so good when I released into the bedpan (often had to use two bedpans) with the nurse gently stroking my back and shoulders as I let it all go. After which she wiped me and put me back in bed. More often than not, I would have to call her at least once or twice again since I had to "go again" and had to play the game all over again. I got very good at that game to the point where I could hold in the larger volume enemas for 15 minutes each the day prior to my surgery.

I remember my first one well. I craweled when the first cramp hit. Water went everywhere.

I hated it and tried to get away from my parents.

I was quite young when I first received an enema but I remember it took both my mom and my sister to get me to take one.

No never, I actually enjoyed being given enemas. My first recollection was from around age 3 or 4. I was on the kitchen table getting a bulb enema. My dad held my legs to my chest and mom gave me the bulb enemas. I discharged into a bowl. I remember hearing my dad say to "give him some more" My first bag enema was at age five where I had enemas till clear due to pending surgery. If I had a fever, or constipation I'd get enemas from mom. I eventually learned if I rubbed the RT on the sheet it would elevate my temp, guaranteeing an enema. Then I'd hear the words that sent me into a tizzy. "I'm going to give you an enema this afternoon." The anticipation as I laid there waiting excited me a lot. Then I would hear the linen closet door open followed by running water and my mother walking into my room with a full enema bag, towels and Vaseline.

She always started with a big blob of Vaseline in her finger that she inserted into my anus. She went in deep, moved it in and out and finished with a rotating motion. Then the nozzle went in and I'd hear the click of the clamp. I loved it.

I probably got an enema a month. I got enemas till I was fifteen., that's when my mom figured out I was being sexually stimulated from them.

I just accepted them as a fact of life. I remember being over my mom's lap for bulb syringe enemas. They were gentle and so no discomfort was associated with them. I neither liked nor disliked them.

I remember only once trying to get my mom to change her mind because I wanted to watch TV. She didn't change her mind and I was soon over her lap feeling that slippery bulb sliding into my anus several times.

I never knew I had a choice, my enemas were per doctor's orders. I did not like the cramps. I never fought them, and started them on my own at about 5 or 6. My family was not an enema family, but there were enough of them. When I became older they stopped. Good thing, I would have had one huge hardon, I think I would have cum on the bed as my mother was giving one to me. I did not like my mother giving me an enema, but on my own, I loved it, an awful lot.

When I was in grade school, my mother would appear at the bathroom door and call me to come in. When I went in, there were my father and an enema bag all full and ready to go. My mother would ask when the last time I had a BM was, and, of course, I could not tell her. No child keeps track of that sort of thing.

She would say that she thought I needed an enema, and that would be the end of discussion. I had no choice in the matter. I had to take off my pants and lie on the floor on my side while she shoved the nozzle into me and filled me up, a very uncomfortable and demeaning experience. After the bag was empty, she would tell me to hold it for a while, and finally let me expel it.

When I was empty, she and my father would look in the toilet and discuss whether I had done enough or I needed another. They always decided one was enough, which was fine with me. Sometime along the line, though, I started giving them to myself, which was a much more pleasurable experience, and more than 60 years later, I am still doing them for a good time.

hankb

I find it fascinating when I read of 5 or 6 years old or what ever before the teen years giving themselves enemas. I wonder how much more coordination they must have had not to hurt themself than I had. But most of all what beguiles my mind is how they got away with it ? My Mom knew every damn thing I did, and sometimes before I did it, until I started high school, but I was fortunate not to be a Latch-Key-Kid too.

Not one bit in the beginning. I hated to have "The Treatment" for being a constipated kid of maybe 7 or 8, I would be given enemas by my parents for relief. Then one day, I guess around 11 or 12 years old they started to feel real good, and I have been doing follow-ups on my own for over 50 years now. A clean colon and rectal cavity is a wonderful thing, especially when it feels sooooooooo good! Oh yea, I think it is normal to have a hugh bag of warm water flowing through the nozzle penetrating my anus. In fact, I think I need an enema right now!

Hell no, I fought tooth and nail. My mother had to have a neighbor come over and hold

me down. They greased me up, I did the best to hold my cheeks closed, laying prone on

my parents bed, the enema bag hanging from the bedroom light fixture. They always got

the nozzle in, once in I couldn't stop the flow. They carried me to the toilet. That happened

a number of times while a child, then somehow I liked sticking things in myself, thermometers,

glass stirring rods, etc.

The amber enema bag was always kept hanging in the shower. Can't remember when I

experimented, filled the bag somewhat and tried an enema on my own. I didn't know

enough to lube the nozzle. The nozzle used on me was the small enema nozzle, but I

remember the larger nozzle in place, used it. Of course we know it was a douche nozzle,

I probably contaminated it.

I think the biggest issue was exposing myself to my mother and a neighbor. I can't remember

my age, but probably under 10.

the hoseman

I can not remember not liking enemas.

Bill

I don't remember it real well, but I was probably 4 or 5 when I got one from my mom. I remember not liking it at the time, and as far as I can recall I only got it that one time. I don't even remember exactly why, but I was probably sick to my stomach in some way. Through the years after that, I would remember that one time I got it, and think about it. I remembered some sort of "weirdness" about the way it felt, and I longed to experience that sensation again.

So, as a kid my family moved from one town to another, and my parents were real bad about not fully unpacking after moving. For the longest time, we had all of these old boxes piled up in our garage, full of all of the crap that was boxed up for the move, but never unboxed. Sometimes, I would get bored, and I would go out into the garage, and start going through those boxes, one by one, looking for interesting things. I would find my dad's old books, and grab the ones that looked interesting and worth a read. Little by little, I made my way around the garage, and looked through each box, one by one.

This wasn't all at once. Every week or two, I would go out there and find a box that I hadn't looked through yet, and I would have some fun snooping around. Most of the boxes were pretty uninteresting, a bunch of old clothes, and random crap. But one day, I was home alone, and decided to go looking through boxes again. I was probably around 14-15 years old. I picked a box that I hadn't looked through yet, opened it up, and started digging. Lo and behold, I found the box for that old fountain top combination syringe! I couldn't believe my eyes, this is the thing that I remembered from early in my childhood, that had given me such weird sensations.

However, now I was a male who had just gone through puberty, and was all too familiar with sexual pleasure. I wanted so badly to experience those weird sensations again, now that I understood sexual pleasure a lot more, and see if they were the same thing. I put everything back in the box, except for my new found best friend, and closed the box back up. I brought the bag back inside, and knew exactly what to do with it. I went into the bathroom. locked the door, and filled that thing up with warm water. I probably put some soap in it as well, since that was how mom did it when I was little.

I hung the bag from a towel rod, laid down on the floor, and took a bag full of water. It was a lot easier than I remembered it being as a young kid, but it was definitely a challenge to take the entire bag, although I managed. Most importantly, it felt incredible! And I confirmed to myself, that yes indeed, the strange sensations that I experienced as a little kid, were the same thing as sexual stimulation that I was all too familiar with as a teenager getting in touch with his sexuality post-puberty. Now I'm 35 years old, and have been addicted to enemas ever since that fateful day.

Bagfuli141... interesting perspective. maybe we weren't so clever after all. maybe my mother knew, but considered it harmless and better not to bring attention to it. My solo enemas were done on the weekends when my parents were out for the evening. After my younger brothers were asleep in their beds the babysitter usually feel asleep by 9pm, I would lock my self in the only bathroom and give myself enemas from the amber 2 quart bag that always hung on the towel rack at the back of the shower. I always thought I was clever and put it back just the way I found it. Nothing was ever said, but that doesn't mean she didn't know. You got me thinking, but I will never know...