The Hanging Bag

Whenever someone in our family got an enema mom always hung the bag over the shower rack to dry. While, I almost never got to see my sister or brother get an enema, there were more than a few occasions when I would go into our bathroom to find moms red combination bag hanging upside down from the bar over the tub, with the long red ribbed hose draped around the neck of the bag. Of course, I could never resist the temptation to closely exam the black enema pipe with it's traces of Vaseline still visible.

I must have been only five or six years old when I first experimented with putting the nozzle in my small bottom and pretending that I was getting an enema from mom.

I would sometimes see the red bag hanging on the shower rack when I was a kid. It was always the douche nozzle and smelled of vinegar. When I took a bath, I would fill the red bag with water and use the nozzle as a shower or sprinkler for my Barbie dolls while taking a bath. My Mom was not amused and made me stop playing with it. 😃

Our family bag was hung on a robe hook next to the toilet when in use and on the towel bar on the back wall of the bathtub to dry out for a few days before it was either used again or put away in the linen closet. The bag was hung by a shoelace (instead of a hook) that was knotted in strategic locations that were determined to be the perfect height for whatever position was chosen for the enema recipient: high for over the toilet, medium for over the side of the tub, and low for laying on the floor. I recall going thru a period in the 50's when the bag was rarely put away. I went thru a period where I dreaded taking a bath with the equipment hanging behind me drying out because mom would use its convenient location as the deciding factor for a "little enema" after my bath (which of course turned out not to be so little).

Later in my early teens I rarely missed an opportunity for a good enema/masturbation session in the tub when the equipment was left out drying after someone had an enema. A hanging bag never fails to excite me.

I consider myself lucky. I live alone and have my own private bathroom. I usually hang my bag on the back of the bathroom door. No need to worry about anyone seeing it.

LOL

I was raised by my father as a single parent. I came home from school a number of times to find the bag hanging om the shower rail drying, hose hung beside.

Similar to LisaK, I was raised by a divorced Mom, and on occasion I would find the amber enema bag hanging in the shower drying. I never said anything, and neither did my Mom, but she obviously had used it during the evening when I was away from the house. Was it for pleasure or for need? I never knew, but suspect it might have been the former.

In our house, my mom hung her yellow travel bag from a high hook right next to the toilet for a few days after it was used. The douch nozzle was left attached and almost reached the floor and the bag smelled of Massengale douch powder. This was also the bag that was used for my enemas. I would get hard just looking at it when using the bathroom!

Healthymale6446 she might have been using it for Feminine Hygiene

In those days most women douched.

Obviously she would want to do that when the boys were not even home.

I remember the smell of smelled of Massengale douche powder and when I went into a bathroom where I would smell that smell I always got really turned on.

Our was hung on the back of the closet door in the bathroom.

Bulber, if the smell of Massengill Powder got you aroused, just imagine spending 2 weeks in the plant/offices where it's made. I was there for sales training and the entire plant had a very strong menthol aroma.

The site of a hanging bag, half or totally filled always gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach, both as a kid and an adult. It was usually there for douching by my mother or a spouse, but I always thought of it being used in an another orifice close by.

The red bag of my childhood always hung from a hook near the tub. in our bathroom, the hose hung with it Since enemas were given frequently in our household, it guess it was just easier if it was kept handy.

Our family bag was always dried out hanging in the bathroom and so were many family bags in the 50s & 60s. I went into many a home that had a bag drying out.

In our house the combination syringe was the enema bag and when it was used there was the unmistakeable smell of Ivory soap. We also had a red open top that was only for my mother's use and when I was a teenager finally figured out that it was for douching and there was always a minty odor when it was used. Sometime later after my older sister went a way to college and acquired a folding syringe that was also for douching, it seemed like I smelled that minty odor a little more often if she might be home for a long weekend or a holiday.

"When I took a bath, I would fill the red bag with water and use the nozzle as a shower or sprinkler for my Barbie dolls while taking a bath. My Mom was not amused and made me stop playing with it."

LMAO, Egirlky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saw a scale dollhouse recently that was very highly detailed. One of the bathrooms had a scale syringe bag hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. The other bathroom had a syringe hanging on a hook on the wall beside the toilet and a nice scale bulb douche syringe centered on a towel on the bathroom sink. Seeing the above mentioned dollhouse reminded me of a scale bathroom in a larger scale probably 1.5 scale instead of the usual 1 inch scale. This bathroom was done in a Victorian style complete with a very shapely lady in the claw footed bathtub. On a rack next to the sink were several different bulb syringes with curved and straight nozzles meant for enemas and douching. Hanging from the towel rack just above the tub where the lady doll was located, was a filled fountain syringe with the hose hanging down in a big loop and then arcing back up into the open top of the swollen bag. It gave the impression that the syringe was soon to be used by the lady in the tub. A very erotic scene long before cell phone cameras were an option. Next time you are near a collection of dollhouses, take a look to see where the mind of the decorator was really at.

The folding syringe was kept in a paper bag on the shelf of mom's closet.

When I got home from grade school the first thing I did was to enter the bathroom and peek in the tub to see if the enema bag was there. Mostly it wasn't, but every so often it would be there, hanging to dry.

It always startled me, and made me instantly erect. I'd spend the rest of the day wondering if it was going to be used on me. Whether she was douching or taking an enema I did not know, but guessing, I would say it was being used for an enema. It wasn't until middle school, when I began sneaking enemas, did I notice the vinegar odor.

It was quite a thrill to take a bath with the loved/dreaded enema hanging overhead.

I still fantasize about the enema bag that always hung on the back of the bathroom door during my youth years at home. While i was reluctant to chance using it for fear of getting found out, there were many masturbation sessions while staring at it or in conjunction with a Sears or Wards catalog open to the appropriate sections.

A bulb was in our family equipment

My mother put a nail in the window frame next to the toilet where she hung the enema bag from. One problem, it was way to high up and when I got an enema the water would go in too fast. Nevertheless, that is way I got them through childhood.

Mom’s Amber folding bag was permanently hung on the back of the bathroom door with no effort to disguise it. It was not threatening, that was just its place. Mom was a hose hanger, I guess you could call her, what ever nozzle was attached, the hose was looped and nozzle in the bag. I have the mental picture etched in my mind of that bag hanging below a metal coat hanger from the shower curtain rod with the nozzle looped into the bag and the tell tail stream of small bubbles trailing down the side. I too grew up with the unmistakable aroma of Ivory and Massengill drifting from the bathroom across the hall to my room. Mom always had a Mason jar with motel size Ivory bars, large jar of Massengill and Ponds Cold Cream on top of the toilet bowl tank, the Ponds was her choice of lube, a couple of the small bars of Ivory were always floating inside the bag. The bath tub and nest of towels in it was serious business to her, and nearly any reason, was enema reason to her. Going into the bathroom and shutting to door as was the rule of my home, I would see Amber bag with tell tail water droplets in the inside, would make me cringe. I was not a fan of enemas as a youth, but God Rest Her Soul, she knew how " to clean you out for your own good” lmao

I remember Mom had a pink box with a white cameo on the front once. A white bag folded out of it's bottom and the top swung up for hanging. When not in use the bag, hose and nozzles stored neatly inside the box. I was summons for an enema once and this device was suspended. I was in position on her towel nest in the bath tub and Mom retrieved the nozzle from in side the bag and treated it with Ponds Cold Cream. As she inserts the nozzle her new box thing fell with Ivory solution all over both of us and the bathroom floor. HaHaHa the only time I ever heard Mom drop the “F Bomb”. I never saw it again, and the next day I was summons and apparently she gotten a new Amber folding bag and business was normal.

We had a combination enema /douche bag hanging from the shower curtain rod in the bathroom. My dad said it was for helping a person to poo when the poo did not want to come out. He explained how to use it and asked if I want to try it. Of course I said yes. He helped set it up and positioned the nozzle against my butt but let me insert it on my own. When it was in and the clamp was released I felt weird and soon felt a need to poo. He said to try to wait and let more water in because it would work better and I did but finally said I needed to do it right now. He pulled the nozzle out and I rushed to sit on the toilet. Afterward he asked how I felt and I said I felt good. He told me that whenever I had a problem going, I should do what we did.

If it had recently been used by someone in the house it was usually left hanging on the back of the bathroom door. If it hadent been used and was dry it was usually under the sink in a cabinet. Im not sure who was in charge of looking to see if if it was dry or not. Probably my mother, she used it the most, I think. Or maybe it was me lol.

After drying out over the bath tub the enema bag would disappear. Early on it was a relief not to seen the dreaded thing hanging there. When it was no longer dreaded but a bit exciting I wanted to know what happened to it. Wasn't about to ask though. One day while getting a towel for a pool party all was revealed. After that there would be trips to the linen closet when the parents were away for the day.

Sounds like my home, but it was a red bag, red hose and a black enema nozzle.

Back then it was a cure for many problems.I still use enemas for my constipation. its quick working and

less expensive than laxatives.It was on the wall next to the commode.

Once my butt finished taking its contents from the enema bag it was hung over the faucet of the bath tub in my bathroom to dry.

Enemas were pushed for our health in the 60 's I got then from a baby (so I've been told ) up untill around 11 years . All 5 of us kids got them almost weekly and they were big heathy ivory soap enamas from the red bag hung high in the bath tub .The bag was alwaybout and hanging in moms tub . First homade ivory soap stick suppository would be inserted in our butts which we were made to squeeze and hold in . Then we would be called in one by one to lay on the floor with our butts propped up high on rolled towels were the white Vaseline lubrigated nozzle was pushed firmly into our butts . She would slide it slowly in and out while filling you up to your breaking point . I t was very erotic and still causes me desire when I think about it. A few times I couldn't hold it and made a aweful mess ! She cleaned it up and methodically started over with the ivory soap suppository and another full enema . We all had to hold them in and I remember us crying laying on the floor rolling back and forth from the cramping untill she called our name for our turn to release . Thankfully we had 2 bathrooms lol it was in the Doctor journals and doctors or nurses regularly recommended them and administered them in office . I have had my share in office ones !

As others have written here, ours was the standard red bag, red hose, SS metal clamp, and the black bakelite enema nozzle. This was back in the 40's and early 50's, and I was just a young child (3 to 6 yo). Enema's were the cure-all for whatever ailed us. During the administration of an enema (by my Mom), the bag (a closed top bag that also served as a hot water bottle) was hung from the door knob on the backside of the bathroom door, and I laid on a thick terry towel on the bathroom floor, which was heated in the winter months. Enemas were always Ivory SSE's in warm water, and generally consisted of a series of 3 or 4 perhaps, until I was good and cleaned out. Never a negative experience, which is probably why I still enjoy them today, some 60+ years later.

My mom's amber bag was kept in her closet, on a coat hanger, at the very end of all her clothes. After use, it was hung on the back of the bathroom door to dry, with the hose slung over the same hook that held the bag itself and the bakelite nozzle hanging down. I got my last enema from my mother when I was six (and we were at my grandmother's house), but when my older brother got an enema, I would tip toe near the door, but my ear against the wall and listen enviously to her maternal ministrations and his mild protests. Oh, how I dreaded and desired to be the one getting the enema. Afterward, I would go into the bathroom as often as possible to see the bag hanging on the door, until it disappeared back into my mother's closet. I can't have known how much desire there was in those instances or how much I would long for them as an adult.