Did you easily accept being given enemas as a child?

I was raised by my grandmother and I got enemas regularly from her. She asked about my bowels a lot and seemed to always know when I was constipated. I raised a fuss just about every time before I ended up over her knee with the nozzle going in.

Nope. Resisted, cried and complained. Little did I know I would come to enjoy them as an adult. Does anyone thank mom !

Yes and no , I wanted mom's enemas but had to act like I hated them

I don't recall ever objecting. Granted I was quite young and what I remember was that is quite soothing.

I was carried kicking and crying into the bedroom to receive the enemas when I was young. It's amazing how much pleasure they brought as I got older and started sneaking them on my own.

I accepted enemas without a fuss. My Dad (I never had a mom) explained how it would make me feel better afterward, even though it may feel uncomfortable when doing it. Plus I had already watched him taking one himself so I wasn’t scared or anything. He waited until I was ready, filled the bag with water, but let me insert the nozzle by myself. It was not bad at all, and after expelling I felt so much better. Afterward he said we could do it again, whenever I felt the need.

If I didn't have a bowel movement every day was sure to get an enema that night. Hated them and as a result have no inclination to revive such practice. Even though it was sixty years still have bad memories, glad so many like them just not my thing.

As a kid I never received an enema, and still have not. I witnessed a friend get it is a punishment as a kid growing up, it looked very painful.

Enemas @sarahlong, even if for punishment they don't have to be painful. Sometimes when people get them (especially kids) the fuss is for show of displeasure and sometimes humiliation rather than caused by pain. Some people cramp more than others and some people are more prone to reacting to that discomfort. Then there are those who welcome a little discomfort from cramping. We're all different.

@sarahlong would you like to elaborate on your story? Context and procedure?

I was always curious and liked seeing the red bag. When I got the first one I slightly protested, which did no good. I got it with Ivory soap in the water. I was 7. Months later I was sick and home from school. I received another enema. By now, I decided I liked the warm flooding feeling and the anal attention as the nozzle was inserted. By age 13, I was sneaking enemas on my own.

That was the start of a beautiful affair with my enemas. As an adult, I discovered via the internet many adults took enemas for pleasure and constipation. I found other adults who enjoyed receiving as much as I do. To Be Continued...

EVEN THOUGHT MY PARENTS WERE FROM EUROPE, THERE NEVER WAS ENEMA SESSIONS. THE ONLY TIMES I CAN REMEMEBER WERE WHEN A DOCTOR SAID TO GIVE. NEVER KNEW WHAT THEY WERE UNTIL GIVEN, FAUGHT LIKE KRAZY, BUT NEVER HELPED. AFTER AWHILE, LEARNED TO ENJOY. DID THEM ON A REGULAR BASIS LATER IN LIFE.STILL ENJOY TODAY.

I always accepted enemas from my mom as a little boy. I was sickly and she was loving. It soon became a hidden desire in me to want to receive an enema. I felt good being vulvenerable, naked and exposed to my mother's gentle hands on my body. The best part for me was to be put on my side and feel her spread my bottom cheeks to enable her to insert the large black syringe into my anus without lubrication. Thinking of it still makes me excited and so grateful to my mother.

I really don't know. Mom started giving them to me as an infant, so by the time I was old enough to remember it, it was no big deal. My sister had the same experience, as we were an enema-friendly family. Our mom was raised on them, too, and I still remember that she looked 40 in her late 60's. Mom moved in with my sister when she was 85, and Sis gave her her last enema on the morning of the day when she went to bed and never woke up. She still looked maybe 60.

I think I answered this one before, but I can remember from over 60 years ago, I fought like hell, I was prone, my legs pulled apart and I tried like hell to clinch my anus closed. A neighbor, a friend of my mother always did the helping as they knew it would be a struggle. I would fight and fight, once the nozzle was in, I couldn't fight it anymore, but if I did, I was asked, "do you want another one?" I stopped resisting at that time. I can't remember how many as a child I got that way but it was a few.

the hoseman1

I fought it, but was spanked any time I resisted

Mom, walking into the bedroom holding an overflowing soapy enema bag.

Me, starting to protest.

Mom, before I can even get words out, "I know you don't want this but you are going to get it"

Minutes later, Me, butt in the air, head on the bed and a tube up my rear getting a large enema and some slaps on my buttocks if necessary.

Protests never, never worked.

Janet S

Janet s, protests never worked for me either, though I always tried. No amount of protesting, begging or pleading was going to stop my mom from using the syringe on me.

In the beginning I fought them by delaying getting undressed or by clenching up and getting in position. My mom would deal with delay getting undressed by pulling down pants and underwear. Clenching up was dealt by a swat or two or a forced lubing or insertion of the nozzle. If didn't get into position quickly enough she would yank me into position and get the nozzle in and hold me down with an arm across my back.

I’m sure I’ve answered something similar already.. my sister and I received enemas at slightest hint of constipation or illness. I loved them (especially the lubed finger and nozzle insertions) from the start including expelling while mom, grandma and usually sister watched. I got erections every time but no fuss was made - it was explained to my sister that it was just natural for little boys. This led to years of enema and masturbation play between my sister and I. Laying over mom’s lap getting the nozzle I’m sure she felt my little erections against her thigh which I enjoyed immensely. Was I squirming or was I rubbing against her? She stopped giving them to me about age 12 when my erection actually spurted on the side of her leg. She assured me it was natural for boys but afterwards I was offered laxatives. It was too awkward to ask mom for more enemas but luckily my sister still enjoyed giving them to me whenever possible. Also, grandma always asked about my bowels and had no qualms giving me one all the way into high school.

I got very few when really young. I remember that they were no big deal. At about age 12 I began giving them to myself and letting a neighbor boy help me.

We were caught once. Both of us nude, me lying on my stomach with a thermometer in my rear. I tried to explain that my doctors office had called and told me to do this and I'd asked my friend to to help.

He didn't ask why we both were nude but said any future enemas would be given by him. I began getting them from him occasionally until i was about 16 and loved every one. I also got rectal temps from him at times if I asked as well

@Enema1984 who is/was "He" that caught you?

With health conditions I had as a child I had to have enemas regularly. While I struggled and hated the earliest ones I can remember, even as young as 5 or 6 I was liking them. For enemas after that point I would always act like I didn't like or want them when secretly on the inside I was going, yeah ! Another ENEMA !

Enematically

Steve

I, like many others here, hated them as a child only to grow up and love them! I remember receiving only a few, but still they seem to have been administered without any specific reason. I do not recall being sick or constipated, and with my complaint falling on deaf ears, the enemas prevailed. Early on the enemas were given by my mother over her lap, with a small bulb syringe, a jar of Vaseline and a bowl of soapy water with a bar of Ivory soap floating in it. As I got l got older, I was graduated to the red 2 qt bag, hose and black enema nozzle hung from the shower rod, and me over a bath towel on the edge of the tub with my bottom high in the air.

I can recall being called by my mother in the house and when I went to find her, she was in the bathroom with every thing ready to go, so there was no chance to escape. Fast forward 50+ years and now love them to this day and cannot get enough of them. As we all know, it provides a feeling like no other.

Not at all. I complained, cried and tried my best not to get it, but mom eventually won.

I remember receiving enemas from my mother from the earliest time. When I was graduated to the bag, I just remember it as a gentle, loving procedure from my Mom. I didn't fight it and besides it made me feel better. I also enjoyed the 'private time' with my Mom.

I didn't find out about my condition until on active duty, when I became severely impacted and once cleaned out from the impaction the Flight Surgeon decided to do a Barium Enema to find out what he was dealing with, (his words). That's when I found out that I not only had a 'Mega-Colon' but also was a victim of Hershprung's Disease (SP??). I found out the 'why' and all of my early childhood. The flight surgeon told me that it appeared to be a birth defect and I would have to learn to live with it.

And, here I am.

the boxcar

I resisted getting enemas from my mother she would coax & try to bribe me with a quarter, or most of the time dragging me kicking and screaming but i always got my enema one way or the other. I still remember the heavy scent of the soapsuds mix, and that feeling of dread and yes anticipation of the enema while hanging over my mothers knees.

I liked enemas as far back as I can remember, because they made my anus and penis tingle, so I never mined getting one. However, I always complained when told I was going to receive one to cover up that I liked them. I would fake being constipated every now and then, so mom would give me one.

The thing was, when mom set up the bed to give any one of us an enema, she did all three of us together. Thinking if one needed an enema, the other two did as well. They, like me, both liked enemas and complained to cover it up, like I did. My brother had more problems with constipation than me or my sister did, put together, so we had to watch how much we faked stomach trouble, because most of the time we both got an enema whenever he did. The downside was, mom had us hold the soapy enema for five to ten minutes before we could go to the toilet and the cramps would hurt real bad sometimes and we would complain. If we complained too much, mom was quick to spank us with her paddle or hairbrush. It’s no fun getting spanked for complaining about cramps while trying to hold a soapy enema.

The first rinse enema mom gave us, we had to hold for four or five minutes. During the second rinse enema, which we didn’t always receive, we always had to take more water than during the first two, but could release as soon as we had taken the whole bag. Only as we got older around age 10 was the bag really full with 2 quarts for all two or three enemas. The two rinse enemas, to me, were the best, because that’s when I would feel the most tingling, especially during the second rinse. Then just before our teens, we were taught how to give enemas to ourselves, by our RN grandmother. I personally always thought mom was behind our grandmother teaching us, but never asked.

OMG I can't believe I've not posted on this topic before. Although I was a suppository victim rather than an enema victim I can relate so much to all the replies of the recipients who answered NO! I got them starting at a very young age and every insertion was a losing battle where I would be squirming around and crying. My mom sometimes even resorted to asking the assistance of our family maid, a teenager, who didn't appear to need any encouragement in complying with my mom's wishes. I remember her with a grin on her face eagerly chasing me down after I ran off in total panic when a suppository was imminent and being forcibly carried back into the house screaming and kicking. I have written about this in more detail on my blog. I don't ever remember being spanked though because my mom was never angry with me for my antics. She knew how much I hated having suppositories and simply expected me to act that way when she decided it was time for me to have one. She even used my hatred for them as a psychological weapon by sitting me on a potty (and later the toilet) and telling me that she was giving me a chance to 'go' on my own .... but that if I failed, then the box of suppositories and jar of Vaseline was out and ready to be used, which it usually was!

I never have an enema .I used to scream and kick when a suppository was coming.