Did you easily accept being given enemas as a child?

Yes, I was always a very compliant enema boy. Once told I would being getting my enemas I was sent to my room to wait for her to call me. My tummy would be doing flips, and the feelings of nervous apprehension would only get stronger. I knew protesting would not do any good so I just accepted my fate and tried to be a good boy

Yes, no problem at all for me. Enemas were only given after I had been sick for 2 or 3 days. The folks thought they were the cure-all when nothing else seemed to help. I always received warm Ivory SEE's. and they were always very gently administered by my Mom on a towel on the bathroom floor. Always with the red bag, red hose, metal clip, and black enema nozzle. I never dreaded them at all. which I suppose is one of the reasons I still enjoy them today.....unfortunately solo, because the wife never could get into my enjoyment for enemas. 😢

My wife did not mind enemas given for constipation - quick relief.

She was less happy about enemas for other causes - her mother seemed to believe that an enema would do no wrong in case of pretty much any stomach issue, including too much gas or queasiness, or even diarrhea. When you feel your stomach churning, having it filled extra with 1-2 2 quarts of water, then pooping a lot and repeat if applicable, is no nice prospect. It was however pretty pointless to protest once her mother had made up her mind.

As she was growing, she became increasingly annoyed by the knee-chest position because it was very revealing - her mother would kneel behind her throughout, holding the nozzle or at least ready to replace it if needed, and thus had a close-up view of her daughter's bottom and genitals throughout. She pleaded, with success, to have it phased out in favor of Sims (her mother used Sims sometimes but preferred knee-chest for practical reasons).

After having the first few, I was less apprehensive and actually enjoyed the experience. I never put up a fuss because I always obeyed when I was told to do something. But eventually I was eager to get one. My mother laughed sometimes at how fast I shucked my clothes.

My Mother, I think knew just how much I loved for her to give me an enema. Like the previous post, Mom would often laugh at how eager I got undressed when she said the word enema. I can remember one time when only Mom and I were in the house when she asked me if I wanted her to give me an enema. Of course I said "yes!" At which time, I went over to Mom and wrapped my arms around her, gave her a great big kiss, and said "Mom, I love you so much!" I, also, remember her reply to me "Mike, I bet you that I could get you to do just about anything in the yard for me, if I promised to give you an enema when you got finished!" I think I replied something like "try me! sometime." Mother laughed...

There was a lot of turmoil in our home up until I was 8 when my parents parted ways and mom and my two sisters were on our own. Enemas had been a family affair with help from my aunt, dad's sister and mom and my two sisters. But after we moved and it was just one sister and mom still at home, things changed. Where I had been getting 3 enemas on a saturday afternoon along with my sisters, I was getting them 3 times a week that first year. Our family doctor made house calls and every time he came it was the same, I was to have more soap suds enemas. My middle sister was 5 years older than me and she gave them to me a lot of the time or at least she was always there unless I was home sick from school. She would laugh at my erections and embarrass me a lot. I really got into the habit and continued for many years, 3 times a week even when I was away at school later on. It never occurred to me to protest. One day I had my first orgasm during enemas and that was it for me. My sister howled and my mom and aunt hardly made a fuss just snorting "boy thing, or natural to have that" Next time I felt it happening, I just shut my eyes.

I only fussed before the first one at age 7.I had seen my siblings reaction to them and I was terrified. I still have the image of lying nude on the floor, the sight of an old saucepan with milky, soapy water in it, looking over my shoulder to see my stepmom rubbing the tip on a bar of soap, the strange, invasive feeling of it penetrating my tiny hole. Then the "click" as the clamp opened.

To my surprise it wasn't bad at all. I was a bit young to be turned on, but readily axcepted them on the times I needed them. And the times as a young teen I pretended to be constipated. It not only got me enemas, but a day off from school too - bonus!

In an odd way I was sort of attracted to the process of being given an enema by 7 or so.

Hearing the preparations . , water running, bed covered with a rubber pad. not being told but knowing it was for me

I didn't have many as a child, and none after the age of six. I probably would have fussed and fought (and have a dim memory of having done so when I was very, very young), but my mother was very clever about it, and I never saw the enema bag or knew I was about to get an enema until I was undressed for my bath and in the bathroom. Then the bag would come out and I would feel the dread at the pit of my stomach and, correspondingly, the excitement in my penis. There wasn't much opportunity to complain and no doubt no point in doing so.

My Grandmother always did it very gently and I love it this way. Beautiful memories.

I can't ever remember not loving them... Mom thought I was crazy to want to be given enemas!

I can remember putting up a fuss the first few times Mom had given me a hot soapy enema but a few quick swats to my bare bottom cured that pretty quick.After a few it got to be pretty routine and I didn't put up a fuss anymore. I think I liked the Motherly attention I received during them and after.

Oh yeah, I most certainly easily accepted being given enemas as a child. In fact, I regularly feigned constipation to get mom to stick her enema bulb with a rather large curved bakelite douche nozzle up my ass for a good cleanout. She always lubricated the nozzle with plenty of Vaseline, and for some reason always stuck the nozzle in to the hilt - around 6 inches or so, which is quite deep for a small child. It never hurt, though. She always did it with me sitting on the toilet on the front edge bent completely forward, and gave me repeated insertions of plain tap water. The water was sucked from an old aluminium kitchen measuring jug and I was allowed to immediately start expelling once the jug was all in. Sometimes she would use a Higginson syringe with a smaller nozzle but I always preferred the bulb. We never had an enema bag. Wow, the memories are really flooding back now.....

Needless to say, I started sneaking enemas by myself very early on but also continued to have mom give 'em to me at every opportunity.

I was the youngest of 3 kids and had two older sisters. I was always the last to take my enemas and only remember putting up a fight when I was staying at my Aunts and she got me up to her bathroom for the first time that I can remember. It was decorated with everything roses. Wallpaper and vases with roses in them and I think she sprayed rose too because it reeked of roses. Even years later I think of her bathroom whenever I smell roses. She was very stern with the girls but she was very kind and loving to me and always touched me gently and urged me to take all the suds before she let me go to the toilet. As I got older she did little personal things so that I was not afraid of her. My sisters were rebellious and I think she used enemas to punish them but not me. I think I was her favorite.

The three of us boys got enemas from Mom if we were constipated or had fever. We all cried when the l'il 4 oz red bulb with black tip came out for us... but we got them anyway. Mom was always gentle, filled the sink with warm water and rubbed soap into it until it got cloudy white, then explained how she was filling the bulb, expelling the air and refilling to the top to be sure there was no air that might make it hurt. She then showed how she lubed the nozzle with Vaseline so it would not hurt, then had us climb onto her lap face up, and asked us to put our legs up, when a greasy finger was gently touched to our anus before the nozzle was inserted, I could feel the bulb touch, then the command "squeeze" as she squirted the enema in. "Can you take another"? was asked after the first, if no protest was heard, the process was fast repeated, and we were then put on the toilet to expel... no holding required. We all cried all through this...but never refused or kicked... that would have gotten much more forcible response from Mom, maybe even Dad... YIKES!

One time I was legs up on her lap, crying as usual, with the bulb in and touching, "Squeeze" came... and my crying STOPPED INSTANTLY. As the fluid flowed into me, I told Mom "It doesn't hurt... it feels kind of... GOOD!" When she asked if I could take another, the immediate "Yes" response. When that was in, I immediately said I could take another. She protested that I would squirt, then relented saying I was bigger, and gave it. I then asked for a fourth, she said "That's enough" and got me on the toilet. After that, I wanted more enemas, and asked every time the bulb came out. Sometimes I'd succeed, sometimes not. I would take the bulb out when having alone time in the bathroom and stick it in... but it was just not the same as Mom's enemas. I got to wondering about that difference... could it be the WATER? One time around age 6 I was playing wth the bulb, Mom was in the kitchen cooking dinner... and I thought "Why not TRY the water"? Mom's careful explanations got me a full bulb of soapy inserted and squeezed... WOW, that feels just like Mom's enemas!!! Now... do I pull it out squeezed or unsqueezed... that part had always been out of sight and unexplained. Of course I had to choose to let it re-expand before pulling out... and only realized my error when I went to refill. Quick reinsertion and squeezing fixed that problem, then two more repetitions before putting the bulb away and sitting on the toilet to complete my FIRST solo enema. Yes it WAS GOOD!

The next day I was feeling like another enema, and I asked Mom if I could have an enema every day. She replied emphatically "Oh, no... NOT every day!" I considered that, then resolved with no further comment to have one every OTHER day. Even kids learn early on when to keep quiet about things they need that are not acceptable to others. :-) I never received another enema from Mom... yet never got any feedback that indicated she knew I was sneaking either. I do recall one afternoon at my grandmother's house when Mom was sitting around a table chatting with a number of her sisters (not sure if I had started sneaking yet or not). She remarked to them in a rather amazed tone that I liked enemas.. I do not recall any comments, but I buried my face in whatever I was doing and pretended I did not hear. I just kept on sneaking... even today, unless I need to be sure wifey does not need the bathroom for the 2 hours I plan to occupy it.

Yes, I always accept the enemas. In our house my bro (two years older )and me got regulary enemas every month.

The earliest enemas I can remember is when I was around 5.

Sometimes we have to remember mum for the enemas. It was a good feeling.

We always got them until we expelled clear water. Most time we need 3 or 4 sessions.

Until age 15 Mum watched us expelling. It took around two hours incl all treatments.

Even in puberty there was no embarrassment. The last enema I got from mum was at age 17.

Yes, I accepted my enemas without a lot of dramatics. By time I was about eight my sister and I were already giving ourselves and each other small enemas in the bathtub, just because they were fun. One time mom came into the bathroom while we were playing with the bulb syringe. At that moment we were not actually using it for enemas, but squirting water at each other with the bulb. Mom scolded us saying, "Put that thing away, it is not a toy." We knew what it was for having previously been on the receiving end of it. So, enemas were no big deal when mom thought I needed one because I had a tummy ache. I did not get regular enemas on a specific day of the week or month but whenever mom thought I needed one. I would protest a little just so mom would not know that I actually liked it.

No, I resisted mightily when I was getting my first ones, around 8 or so. The process just scared me then. My mom must have been kind of a softy, because she didn't spank me for resisting, and I guess she just didn't want to fight me, or was just not too much into enemas anyway, so she gave up. After that I would just get laxatives, which I didn't like either, and didn't seem to work well. I had chronic constipation practically all my childhood, and now I regret not getting those enemas that I might have gotten. I developed intoan anal erotic, and liked to put things in my butt. Only by this time, as a teenager, I was too embarrassed t ask for an enema. I'm making up for it now.

I received enemas from as early as i can remember. Resisting was not an option, but, I did try to talk my way out of them before I was about 7. Those enemas were given with an adult 8oz bulb syringe. I can remember getting 1 or 2 bulbs. Then I was told to sit on the toilet. I hated those bulb enemas. Mom would stay with me and tel me to hold it. After a few minutes she would tel me to go. As I got older the number of bulbsful of water would increase. When I started to leak Mom would stop. By then I was getting 5 or 6 bulbs.

I was left with my grandmother while my parents were on a vacation for 2 weeks with instructions that if I didn't have a BM every day I should get an enema. 3 days later I was constipated. Grandma told me that I was to have an enema. I begged her not to use the bulb syringe. She said that I was big enough for the bag. I got my first bag enema from Grandma's red combination bag. I got several more enemas from Grandma's bag before Mom and Dad got home.

Grandma told Mom that I took my enemas so well, no fussing, no arguing, no problems at all. Grandma told her about using the bag. Mom said that if using the bag was the secret to me not fussing then she would use hers from then on.

When I was about 9 Mom was out for the afternoon and I had the house to myself. I had been given many enemas with the red fountain syringe. I went in Mom's room, found the enema bag and took it into the bathroom. I filled it and took an enema. Not because I needed one but just because I had discovered how good they felt.

I had just refilled the bag and was hanging it up when the bathroom door opened and Mom walked in. She told me to come into the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen carrying the full enema bag. As I stood there holding the bag Mom asked me what I thought I was doing. I told her I was constipated and was taking going to take an enema. She took the bag from me, emptied it into the sink and started for her room. She stopped turned around and asked me if I REALLY needed the enema. I told her I did.

She took the bag back into the bathroom, filled it with warm water and put a bar of Ivory soap into it and hung it up on the shower rod. She told me that she was going to teach me to give myself enemas since I was going to take them anyway. She put a towel on the floor and told me to lay down on the towel. She handed me the nozzle and a jar of vaseline. I was told to lube myself then the nozzle. She looked at me and said, "well, you know where it goes, put it in". After it was in she handed me the clamp and showed me how it worked. I was told that when I was ready go ahead and take my enema.

That first enema was crazy with sensations. I wanted to the enema for sure but didn't want Mom seeing how much I liked it. She stood there and watched me take it. It was good but not the same as when she gave them to me. A couple of weeks later I needed another enema. Mom got it all ready and told me that whenever I was ready to go ahead and take the enema. As I was on the floor she came in and watched again. After I was done Mom said that from then on I should just tell her and she would get the enema ready for me. I kept the enemas she knew about down to a couple a month.

I was raised to be an obedient child. I did as I was told without protest. I was truthful, too. If my mother asked me whether I was feeling 'full' after two or three bulbs of water, I would honestly answer, "Not particularly." And I'd get another. My sister, on the other hand, was a rebel. She wouldn't eat her string beans, she protested doing a chore, and she screamed bloody murder when given an enema. My mother would have to call my father in to hold my sister down. As I spied on them through the bedroom window, I was alarmed at the forced administration of the enema. To me, it didn't seem that much difference from rape. Although, at my young age, I didn't know what rape was. It's only in retrospect that I make that comparison.

I would try to make a argument against the enema early in the process. But once the bag was out the fight was over. I would just concentrate on getting through the enema and getting on with the day.

As usual during childhood disliked enemas very much, but as soon as I stepped into puberty it became an affinity for me.

As a child, I did not like them, but never made much fuss about them. Probably because my mother had a very loving attitude, and found the right words to convince me they were good for me. Also because I wa an obedient little girl.

I didn't like them and would try to talk my way out. But once mom was in the bathroom and I heard the cupboard door open it was time to just get on with it. Around 11 or so I started to enjoy them and give to myself when private time permitted.

I bet that most little kids didn't like them because it interrupted our PLAY TIME-----and I surely didn't like that--coming home from school constipated, I didn't care as long as I could go out and play. Back then, I didn't care if I was backed up for a year, but don't take away play time for an enema.

I think I enjoyed ever enema I ever received, and very quickly learned the triggers to be given one. The little girl across the street loved them as much as I did, we constantly talked about them, and often got them at the same time. If I was going to get one, my mom would call Janet's mom, and it was pretty much if one of us needed one so did the other.

I only received a couple from my real mother. I mainly remember being scared, not wanting it and trying to protest yet knowing I would end up getting one in the end ;-P I didnt' mind it and wondered what all the fuss was that my siblings put up.

I started giving them to myself at around 11 or 12, and loved them. I eventually showed my best friend D how to do them. He and I enjoyed them clear through high school.

My Dad's girlfriend gave me quite a few when I was about 14. They were large, uncomfortable and embarrassing. I think she took perverse pleasure in forcing me to submit to unneccessary enemas.

Not too long after her and my dad split I would have my friend D come over and give me enemas . We were caught once, in the act. I explained that I needed one and was embarrassed to ask him to do it.

For a time, he allowed D to come over and 'help' me with enemas. When he caught us having sex once though he ended that and said that future enemas would come from him .

It was a while longer before I let him give me one. I actually really liked it and got a few from him every time I was sick at home from school or pretending to be. It was a nice bonus (and boner) to know that in addition to the rectal temps I asked for and got, I could look forward to a couple of warm, soapy enemas when he got home.

I received pretty regular enemas from my mom and i did a lot of crying and fussing till i was probably 13/14. But it never mattered, when she decided you where getting an enema it was happening and no amount of complaining was changing that. i never experienced it but i know my older sister was spanked a couple of times for physically resisting the enema. As a mom, i have only once faced resistance from one of my kids, my oldest (son) who a couple years ago just didnt want to bare himslef when told and got a spanking for it

I LOVED my enemas from Mom and never put up any resistance. At some point she realized I liked them so it was just a gentle caring enema session.

I did not get them often, perhaps once a year. They were an unpleasant experience, but it did not good to resist, so I just took them. I suspect it was the same for my siblings, but we never talked about it, not even to this day 50 or more years later. I did decide it was enjoyable to do it to myself, and when I played doctor with the neighbor girls, we sometimes gave them to teach other and enjoyed it.

hankb