As a Sick Child I was Always Given an Enema

Hi Everyone

I just like to share with you my enema experience as a child. I was always sick as a child and had a fever. I don't recall being constipated but my mother always chose to give me an enema. I can't remember my age when I first received my enema and will guess it to be 7 years.

Mother would use a yellow enamel basin and pour warm water into it while I watched. She used a Pear soap which is made of glycerine and with her hands create a nice warm soapy water. When she was satisfied she poured the soapy water into a yellow enema container that she had already fitted it with a red tube and big black size nozzle.

This was one end of the room where she then told me to go to the other end of the room where there was large wooden bed.

Being a small child I was dressed in my pyjamas and she made me lie face down on the bed. Before that she placed a towel on the bed on which I lay. She then pulled my pyjama pants half way down so that my bum was exposed. She made me spread my tighs wide so that she could part my bum cheeks apart to expose my little anus.

She did not use an lubricant and slowly inserted the nozzle with soap into my anus. I felt a little pain but soon it was ok as she pushed it deep inside my rectum.

She then started the flow of enema soapy water by opening the tap as I felt a warm fluid enter my colon. I felt myself being filled as she let me start to bloat. When She felt that I was sufficiently filled with the soapy water she pulled out the nozzle. She then made me sit on an enamel pot where I had to defecate as she watched me do it.

I felt good after the enema and my fever subsided.

Since my childhood experiences I love the feeling of receiving enemas and love to receive emails to me about their experiences especially from women.

Take Care

Good grief, yes! A day home from school almost certainly included at least one enema, and depending upon how I felt/acted/looked, or upon my temperature, there might be more. For a long-lasting illness, there was a daily enema. Several of my friends went through the same thing, but there were others whose mothers sort of gave up on enemas as the kids became teens. Not mine!

Happily, in view of my fondness for enemas, my mother and I had in my earliest years become comfortable with the fact that erections went with enemas, and I went through just a brief period of uneasiness when I entered puberty and discovered what an erection was all about. Occasionally, the enema caused a spontaneous orgasm, and even that was just an "Oops!"

As a child my worries soon started after mom asked me when the last time I had a bowel movement was. It also seemed as though this question arose nearly once a week. I always stood my ground in defiance saying that it was this morning, or yesterday, or I don't remember which was the worst thing I could say but I sometimes resorted to that when the questions got more specific.

Mom was very loving and gentle. She would often say how she couldn't understand how I didn't enjoy my enemas and further confided that she always enjoyed hers as a child, and often asked for them when she felt she needed them. I always cringed at the thought.

I can remember once she threatened to give me an enema if I didn't quit farting. She was quick to tell me that I must have been full of poop to be letting such smelly farts so often.

It wasn't until years later that those young child hood memories brought about a curiosity. I can remember looking for the enema bulb mom used on me and getting aroused thinking about sticking it up my butt.

I can't quite pin-point what it was during my childhood enemas that brought about the fascination in my later years. I think the feeling of being dominated by mom and forced to surrender my ass to the bulb had a lot to do with it. The feeling of naughty-ness looking through my mothers closet and drawers for the enema equipment was always exciting and placed me in a mischievous frame of mind I associate with anal eroticism today. I hate to give cause to my anal infatuations of present to my mothers ministrations but....Thanks Mom 😁

This is a little off-topic, but also further to the above comment.

When I was about 13 or 14 I remember hearing my sister (three years younger) being given a suppository for farting too much. Or rather because, having become afflicted with early morning flatulence (which my mother always loudly disapproved of because it was unladylike) my father told her to "go and get rid of it" in the toilet - maybe he just meant get rid of the excess gas but she thought she had to go and "do the do". But she couldn't - she was in there for about fifteen minutes, straining to push her dirt out, knowing only too well what would happen if she didn't, but to no avail. Eventually, mum came and demanded entrance to the bathroom. Armed of course with the suppositories - which she was going to insert herself in the "bend over my lap" position, much to my sister's distress and pain (as always, audible through the thin walls). But nothing could halt my mum when she saw the need to administer the magic jelly-bombers that would empty your bowels of shit in under half an hour. Which in this case they did.

Re: my previous post, this was the only time I remember anyone getting the treatment just for copious farting. My mother didn't use the term "jelly-bomber", I picked that up recently (although I do remember her calling them "jelly bullets" - the reference is to the gelatin base of British suppositories).

If Dylan is reading this, I can assure you it wasn't funny at all if you were living under their regime.

As a child I would get them for just about any sickness or to stop from gitting what was going arond .but after I was 5yrs I did not care because by then I like them , and was trying to figer out ways of getting them

When i was 5 i had an impacted rectum. Which resulted in a rectal exam then an enema to clear it up. My doctor recommended to my mom that she give me one every week to help it not reoccur. So she did and thats how it started

During a childhood sickness, a "good" soapy enema was always a possibility, but guaranteed if I was ill and hadn't 'gone" in a couple days. A couple friends said their moms didn't wait, filling up the bag or enema can first thing.

Whenever i was ill the enema was taken out of the closet, and it would remain out for at least a week after i was better. And anyone mom talked to would be told i was getting the enemas and rectal temps.

I suffered from chronic constipation as a child and was given frequent enemas.

I actually enjoyed them but pretended not to. The proceedure was always gentle,felt good, and produced the desired results.

As a child, it was difficult for me to predict when I'd get an enema although I didn't get them as often as I would have liked. I couldn't figure out why my parents had decided to give me an enema but didn't protest when they told me I was to get one. However, I could always count on getting enemas if I was sick.

If I didn't feel well, I would have my temperature taken rectally and be taken to the bathroom for an enema. After the enema, I would be put to bed and my temperature would be taken again. I got at least one enema every day while I was sick and for several days after I recovered.

I didn't appreciate the daily enemas I got when I was feeling sick, but when I was better they were great and I was always sad when they stopped.

I remember well, the routines in our household, when one of us kids stayed home sick from school. We knew that staying home would absolutely subject us to a variety of treatment options. The enema was all but assured. In hindsight, I sometimes wonder if the enema was intended as a deterrent for us.

I remember discussing these treatments with my sisters as they got home on those days that I stayed home. They would share their treatments also until we all got older.

When mom had to work, grandma would be available to care for us if we were home. She lived next door. I knew when I told mom I didn't feel good enough to go to school that she would remind me that I would have to do everything I was told in order to get better quickly.

The doctor was sometimes consulted and I often heard one side of the conversation. I was usually allowed to sleep in a bit but knew that I would be awakened when mom or grandma or both were ready to begin treatment. Usually, I was told that the doctor wanted me to have an enema or that the doctor would ask if I had been given a enema yet.

I would have to undress and lay down on a towel in the bath tub. The enema bag was usually filled and ready. I could tell if it was soapy by the odor. If it was soapy, I knew that I was in for an uncomfortable treatment and would be pooping my guts out after.

I didn't stay home very often because I knew an enema was in store for me. It wasn't until a few years later that I came to enjoy the enema. I suppose that my mom must have become aware of my enjoyment and enema administration from her diminished.

??? Mom or dad would give us laxatives. They never gave us enemas. I did get an enema until I was an adult. 😃

In the 1950's it was standard for the family doctor to prescribe an enema when we got sick. Whether I got a cold or a sickness that needed a doctor, I was given an enema.

I don't recall being actually sick when Mom gave me an enema. I think they were given with what might be called an attitude adjustment. My most memorable enema at age six was preceded by Mother telling me that I needed the enema because I "appeared out of sorts" to her. This was the enema that changed my life. I remember it in exquisite detail. The smell of Ivory soap, sound of the vaseline jar being opened. The gradual insertion of the nozzle while I protested it was in "too far".

The clip released and the flow...I began to complain almost immediately that I was filled and that it hurt. My mother warned me in no uncertain terms that if I did not take this good enema she would have to start all over again

As a child the red bag would be brought out of the closet as mom saw fit, usually more to her liking than mine. I always remember squeezing my but cheeks together as she would announce it was time for me to go change into my pajamas. If it was earlier than my normal bedtime i knew what was going to happen. At the time i hatted the enemas, mostly i hated the exposure. But i guess i needed them. Just the word would scare the hell out of me. To her friends i was described as chronically constipated. A few would give her advice, all of which she didn't need, she was very thorough.

What were those mystery illnesses? Or did Mom just like on us hands and knees as she gently inserted the nozzle up our butts. Must have been a great feeling of power to have control over that secret place and to continue even after we begged he to "take it out". "I can't take any more"...but Mom knew we could and would take what ever she wanted us to have.

If my Mother was still alive, I'd love to ask her that question- What WERE those "mystery" illnesses that I was given enemas and suppositories for, exactly? Also, in the "over the knees" position, my penis fit perfectly between her thighs. My squirming always produced a tiny "boner"- it scared me, it WASN"T funny. It always did though....

Staying home sick as a child meant that you would get an enema. The enema was the cure all in the 1930s and 1940s. Every drug store had entire window displays of various enema bags in red, green, black and white.

Adults took enemas when they were not even sick, because it made them feel better.

I almost always got enemas when I stayed home from school sick. I think mom's plan was for the enemas to discourage us from faking an illness to stay home from school, but for me it seemed to have the opposite effect. It didn't take me long to figure out that complaining of a tummy ache was a sure fire way to get her to break out the enema bag.

If I was sick enough to stay home from school, I got an enema. It was a warm ivory soap suds enema.

When the doctor came he always asked if I had an enema. This was common in the 1940s. The enema was a cure all in those days.

I grew up in the 1950s....I guess mom was not pro-enema. But Milk of Magnesia was practically a food group!! I do remember the rectal temperatures. I think that's where my fascinations began. Plenty of shame...but it felt so good.

Happy Cleanse

As a child if I got sick an enema seemed inevitable.The worst part was if my mother announced to visitors that they had to leave as she was going to give me an enema soon.Sometimes I would hear her talking on the telephone and telling that I was home from school that day sick and she would be giving me an enema.This became even more embarrassing as I entered my teens.

Mom always heated the bathroom with a space heater before my enema. If I was sick the sound of the heater meant an enema was near. A thickness of newspapers, in case I couldn't hold it, a rubber bag that always smelled like massingill or vinegar was waiting me in the bathroom. I was always naked for the event and had Vaseline pushed up my rectum. Lots of water meant a large movement.

if I didn't take enough water, a second or third enema was given. I would get a small penis erection and drip all over everything. It was ignored. I always got a tingle in my penis during the enema.The smell of the large white bag, the wonderful tingle, the enema itself, made me fake an illness when young. Mother always asked if I had a tummy ache. A yes answer meant an enema or enemas were coming. I was always pampered because I needed enemas to go potty.

The only time i ever remember getting an enema when i was sick was when i was 10. I came home from school not feeling too well. i think it had to do with the junk food i ate the previous day. or unfortunately for me my aunt was home. She then took my temperature orally. It came out higher than normal. I dreaded going to the hospital so I told her what had happened the previous day. She then it was nothing a small enema wouldn't take care of. I did my best to worm myself out of the situation but i couldn't avoid what was coming. I heard her on the phone a couple of minutes later i heard water running in our bathroom. I had received a couple from my mom but never from my aunt.I didn't know what to expect.

Any time that I ran a temp my colon would "shut down totally". I later in life found out that I had a birth defect which explained frequent bouts of constipation. My Mom was really good about enemas...and later told me that i could do it on my own.

She did help me with a enema when she was in her 80's and I must have been near 60. (My wife was disgusted when I told her about it.) Oh well...WTFO!

the boxcar

I remember staying home from school and on the third day when she was taking my temperature orally I kept removing the thermometer from my mouth to see how high it was, when my mom looked in and saw that she left and came back with the rectal one, I was pulled up as I protested and she just sat down on the sofa and pulled me across her lap and proceeded to take my temp rectally which I had not had done for years, after she was done she announced I needed a enema and if I did not let her give me one I would get one when my dad came home for lunch. I was taken to her bed room and told to strip as she went and filled up the water bottle, I had gotten a very strong erection as I thought about what was about to happen and when she came back into the room she asked what was wrong, as I tried to cover myself with my hands, she told me not to be embarrassed by my erection that it was just a natural reaction. Then I remember her going over to her closet and removing her long white robe with her back to me and putting on a short robe she use when she would put on her makeup, she was only wearing a pair of white see thew panties under her robe. Then she sat on the bed and had me lay over her lap which had a small towel on it and I was given 3 enemas that way, I also got one the next day after that.

Hmm i recall one itme in my life having an enema.. i was about 8 and my mom gave me a fleet because i hadnt gone in a week... thats honestly the only one i remember... I wish i could have another.. just to see how i like it... My problem is i still go about once a week...

I was so jealous one time when my sister got sick and the doctor told my mother to give her an enema 3x a day with a teaspoon of salt in the water. I remember seeing my mother getting the enema ready in the kitchen and then going down the hall to my sister's room where she would give my sister the enema in bed. She had a flu or something and was probably about 5 at the time. I was 9.

I walked in the room and I saw the enema tossed next to my sister on the bed while my mom was still sitting on the edge of the bed. I knew she had already gotten the enema and I didn't get to see. But just seeing that white bulb on the bed was so exciting and I wished I could get one too.

When I got enemas because I was running a fever, I don't ever remember going to the bathroom afterwards. I think I just stayed in bed. These days, I still prefer the enema bulb but even if I give myself 4 or 5 bulb fills with a 4 or 6 oz bulb, I never have the urge to go to the bathroom.

My mom though enemas would cure just about anything, so I got lots of them. Whether for fever, constipation, or "general malaise" she'd fill that bag, and I got filled up.