Enemas: From dreading to enjoying them

For me it all began with the simple glycerin suppository. My first memory was about 3 1/2 in the bathroom, over my aunt's lap. Feeling the cold suppository being inserted, and not understanding the mechanics of the suppository. Of course after that there were many sessions with the "blue Bottle" from the refrigerator and eventually the red bulb and bag. By the time I was 10, I was obsessed with every thing rectal. I learned that the local library had tons of both medical and home nursing books available for perusal . Now here we are many years (decades) later and the love is still with me.

I got a couple when I was around 6/7 and hated them. shortly after the neighbor next door was talking to my mom about having to give one to her daughter before a Dr appointment. I was fascinated to hear that someone else had to get one that I knew. Later that week they were over and the subject came up with the mothers and I found out that after the dr appointment she had to have an enema every three days for a month to make sure she didn't get constipated. I figured out what the schedule was and always tried to stop by around the time of the enema. the first few times her mom said she couldn't play because she wasn't feeling well. Then one day the girl and I were playing outside and she said I have to go in at 7 for my enema treatment and asked if I would come with her. I played dumb and said what is an enema ? She said I know you know what they are. My mom and your mom were talking about how much of a fuss you put up when you had to have one. She then smiled and said if you just get used to it they really aren't that bad. I didn't get to watch but I was in the other room while she got the enema and could hear no fussing. when she came out we watched tv for a while and when her mom came in the room after I assume cleaning up the equipment. Her mom said hopefully next time you need an enema Greg you will be good like Laura was. I almost melted with embarrassment and wished her mom had marched me into the bathroom right then and there.

My enema life started out simply because I read some stories where they were used in a kinky way an I thought I'd give them a go.

In the UK there doesn't really seem to be much history of them being used in the same was as the US. There was no 'family bag' or such like. Similarly thermometers tended to go in the mouth not the butt!

So in essence, I enjoy them because I enjoy them. No complex psychology here around converting hatred to love or anything so convoluted. I'm a simple chap!

I am not a psychologist and certainly did not play one on TV, but it seems when at early age when some life experience produces either a very positive or negative impression that experience seems to be imprinted on our psyche for the rest our lives. So receiving enemas for some was very pleasant in which they felt the caring hand of their mother nursing them through illness. Then others were more frightened or traumatized by the experience and hated getting enemas. Either way the experience seems to lay the groundwork for an obsession.

I never was given enemas but I discovered them on my own at age 13 and loved them from the start- a very positive experience which has led to a lifelong obsession.

It is interesting how things work.

This is one of these "chicken or the egg" topics. Do I enjoy enemas because I was given them as a young child and I didn't find them uncomfortable or "negative" back then, or would I have discovered enemas on my own after I went into puberty and realized that I was an "anal erotic"? My guess is the latter, but whose to say........ I'll never know.

Our parents teach us to control our bowels and start potty training us. They get mad if we soil ourselves during this process. The same parents who get mad because we have a accident while they are teaching us bowel control now come along and inject us with water and soap and force us to uncontrolled expulsion. HELLO '

I think you hit the nail on the head with that observation ginnie. Just as we learn to control our bowels, they give us an enema and make us lose control of that most basic bodily function. We lose all control, as the soapy water makes us move our bowels whether we want to or not. A young mind can be quite conflicted by this process.

I wouldn't say "hate." (Except for that 6AM pre-surgical Fleet in the hospital–that was hate!) Dislike is closer to the truth. I've taken (and been given) enemas that were uncomfortable, even a little painful from cramps I didn't expect. There were a few times when I said "no" if my husband suggested an enema. I didn't feel like going through that. Stopped up, blasting headache, nasty flu, a churning stomach. Sometimes I'd drag myself into the bathroom, anyway, or take one in bed knowing that an enema would usually help in the long run, even if I didn't particularly like putting myself through it.

Like soapie, my remembered start was a suppo in hospital at age 6 or so. my pediatric cohorts laughed when I shit the . lrememberbeingmad at the nurses for not warning about the desired outcome. Those cohorts also were wise at that age about the ways of the rectum. i do remember having my mother tell me that she had enemas when pregnant with me.. i also knew the was another set in the other bathroom inour shared house.

I have borrowed the use of enema equipment from other relatives without them knowing

now i have my own and im about to buy a colon tube and an ezem inflatable. totally hooked.

I hated suppositories. I was a pukey kid. My mom always said once I started I didn't like to stop! I always had the threat of a suppository hanging over my head when I was sick. I don't really remember rectal temperatures, maybe just a vague recollection. I never got enemas as a child. I like all three now though!!

Like others have posted I've been sticking stuff up my butt since I was knee high to a grasshopper. It began with Tinker Toys (don't try this; dangerous). Enemas were very few and far between from my mother, who even as a nurse didn't believe in giving them to me or my siblings; she did believe in self-disciplined bowel control of which I was a decidedly late bloomer and had many "accidents" all the way up to age 4. She put my older siblings in charge of the clean up, so they eventually beat me into successful bathroom autonomy.

I didn't really discover enemas as a sensual recreational practice until my mid 30's, post-marital emancipation. I was bored from studying in grad school one day and decided to make use of a pop-top water bottle and for a moment it took me back to that time when my mom had hauled out the red onion shaped nozzle and bulb...then it got so much better...

A few years later I discovered the submission part of the thrill from a highly skilled Domme who mind-fucked me straight back to childhood and enduring my mother's rather strict discipline. Good times...

@ginny, yummy. So glad they did it.

Growing up my mom gave me and my brother enemas when we were sick. I never really got sick and he got the majority of the enemas. He would protest and scream and make a big deal. I think I felt like I was missing out and would sometimes pretend to be sick to get that attention from my mom. I am sure a shrink would have a field day with me!

I have to agree with Buddy55 - it was the helplessness, the loss of control, the exposure, etc. that left a lasting impression for me. Potty training is a major life transition for a child, and having control of one's bowels taken away from you is a major forced regression.

The enemas I received from mom were uneventful - I knew I needed them, her seeing me naked wasn't embarrassing, etc. However, the enemas I received from my uncle when I was 10 DID leave a lasting impression! I will never forget the conflicting feelings: emotionally I wanted to run and hide, but intellectually I believed that he was trying to help me so I did as he instructed. The conflict caused by willingly submitting to the humiliation and violation left a lasting impression.

This is certainly the case for me. I can remember times when I was very young that I cried before my mom even started the process. All she had to do was to tell me to go into the bathroom and I would begin to sob uncontrollably. Somehow, over time, this feeling of dread did, in fact, become an obsession. Now, I am either incredibly aroused by enemas or I find myself in a state of serene bliss after an enema. It depends on the method of the administration of the enema.

At what age did you turn from dreading an enema and liking or wanting the next one? For me I am not exactly sure but I think around 8/9.

For me I was 10 yrs old always gave Mom a hard time in fact had to be held down a lot when I was younger, but at 10 I stopped putting up a fight. Still gave Mom a hard time but it was verbal than physical didn't want Mom to know I liking them. 😁

As best as I can remember, i never had a "dread" time. From the very first enema that I can remember I've always looked forward to the experience. The little red enema bulb was a toy in the bath tub and I know I used it as a squirt gun shooting water all over the bath walls, I also know i played at putting it to use giving myself little tiny enemas when Mother wasn't watching. I was frequently told "that thing is not a toy", but I played with it anyway. No, I never had any dread about getting an enema, just the opposite, from day one.

I pretty much parallel what Karl39 said. I don't remember ever dreading those early enemas from mom. Like Karl, my sister and I played with the bulb in the tub and like Karl we were told to, "put that thing away, it is not a toy." Of course we knew well enough what it was for and we used it on ourselves and each other while playing in the tub. For me, that was just the start.

Age 6. I remember watching and hearing my brother get his enemas. He was always constipated, and always kicked and screamed when it happened. However, the one time I had to get an enema was the start of a life time of anal eroticism. The enema is definitely my friend, and it leads to most everything else.

I think that at about 7 my attitude to enemas began changing from dislike and dread to at least tolerating without complaint. Maybe it was because my mom at that time changed my position from legs-up to the more "grown up" left side.

My Mother would force me to get an enema when I was very young, about age 6-9. I remember her laying me over her lap and lubing the end of the tip up with Vaseline. It started feeling good and I never told her I liked it about age 10. When my parents left, I would get the red bag out and vaseline and give my self enemas. Since then I have been enjoying it. It is not just the excitement of getting one, I feel much better after a thorough cleaning. I now enjoy giving enemas to other guys and the fun that comes afterwards.

Like Karl39 & Cheryl77177, I never dreaded or hated enemas. Both of us were raised on them, and so by the time I was old enough to remember them, they were just something Mom did. Both my sister and I knew when the other was receiving an enema, and frequently got them together. Our home growing up was what today would be called "clothing optional", and Mom, her sister Betty, and our cousin Sheila (and us, of course) were frequently naked at home. We were very much an enema-friendly family. Perhaps I should say a bowel health centered family, because Mom and Betty kept and used supplies of several different laxatives, suppositories, and enema additives. Susan (sister) became addicted at 10, and I was at 8, because Sis talked me into letting her use the bulb on me in the bathtub. Soon, we were playing a game, seeing who could take away the bulb and do the other. The winner was the one who got the other to say "no more". We got caught one day, when we thought we were home alone, and Aunt Betty was still home. We were giggling and tee-hee-ing, because we had both had accidents, and Betty came through the door, which we had not closed. She asked us what we thought we were doing, and had a belly laugh when we explained the game. We knew we were in trouble, but she just said, "It looks like fun, but stop and shower off if you dirty the water, and DO NOT EVER put your pee-pee in Susan's baby hole...THAT'S FORBIDDEN AND YOU WILL MAKE GOD MAD!" We never did, and never have.

I had very few from mom and never dreaded them. At worst, they were interesting and maybe pleasurable. I definitely knew I liked them enough to start nozzling and filling myself around age 14-15. I still do, age 65.

Eric

As our mother progressed in her skill, we started enjoying the loving experience. I remember when it was announced to be a summer's delight if we behaved while the neighbor lady visited from up the road. We simply checked out of the house for them and got each other excited about the upcoming adventure together. And mom made good!!

I dreaded the enemas I received from my mom from the time they started at about age five until the last one at about age nine. Each time she would tell me she was going to give me an enema I would dread what was about to happen and put up a fuss as she used the syringe on me. After they stopped I developed a curiosity about enemas and when left home alone at age thirteen I worked up the courage to get out the syringe and use it on myself. At that point the dread turned to like and I have been hooked on enemas ever since.

My brother, sister, and I never dreaded getting an enema, as-a-matter-of-fact, we couldn't wait for the next time from age 7 or 8 on, thou we didn't understand why at the time.

I have no memory of dreading an enema. Rather, when I look back on the snippets I do remember, I do so fondly. It was my time with my mom. I imagine that I enjoyed her getting me ready and lubricated. It was the time of laying quietly across her lap as the solution flowed into me, laying there to hold it while she gently stroked me and talked to me, and the time sitting in my child's potty chair letting the solution out while she sat in our apartment bathroom with me . I remember my fascination with the tile pattern of the bathroom floor. There is the memory of closeness that isn't dread, it was warmth.

Although I didn't realize it until last year when exploring on this site the variations in enema solutions , the scent of Ivory soap brought back a flood of memories. Then I read and realized that others had similar experiences associated with the soap.

I don't remember a squeeze bulb, but I do realize that the plastic bucket stored in one of my dad's closets with the marked tubing (for insertion distance) and the side outlet at the tip of the tube (as a colon tube) were probably what my my mom used to give me my enemas. The red enema/douche bag were probably also there, but I don't have any memories of the enemas coming from that until I started to self-administer at somewhere around age 11-12 when I was in junior high school. My mom and dad separated and divorced when I was seven years old.

Well I would say I went from dread to like at age 6. Actually I liked to dread enemas, if you know what I mean.

I Think it is for me a fear and hatred of losing control in the beginning. But when I started to like the feelings I could withhold and create my own control over when I would get another enema???