My childhood Enemas were given by my mother , always on the towel covered bathroom floor . Her announcement that I was going to get an enema caused butterflies and intense anticipation . I would hear her filling that big, red bag , and mixing in the soap .
She would come to the bedroom , and announce it’s Enema time . Then walk me to the bath where the bulging red bag was hanging . I would shiver to think that bag would soon be emptying into me .
Usually I would be wearing only PJ tops . I would lie down on my back so I could see her , and the bag . She would then insert the adult black tip to the hub , and hold it firmly in . I heard the click , and felt the hot, soapy water flowing in .
The embarrassment began when I was 10 or so . The nozzle against my infant prostate , and those bitter sweet cramps , caused an errection . I tried to turn to the side , to conceal it , but I am sure she knew .
From then on I always took my enemas on my left side .