Not sure but as I think back, my Mom, an RN, would come In the bathroom when I was trying to poop and decide I needed an enema to help me.
Despite my complaints that I didn’t need or want one, she was busy at the basin mixing up a sink of Ivory soap suds in a basin full of warm water.
Then the small bulb was filled with the mixture and Mom would make lift my little butt off the toilet, insert the little tube and squeezed the bulb.
There was no pain but I was scared of anything medical, which I associated with pain of one kind or other, and my Mom had a horrible bedside manner.
Thus I was crying loudly begging her to stop. Eventually she did and I sat back down and finished my business.
I did not understand that it was the soapy water that allowed me to go. I only remember leaving the bathroom traumatized.
The first time I remember going to visit a neighbor child, I was about 3 years old. Mom dressed me in my winter coat and hat and let me walk next door and knock.
The lady came to the door and let me in. She was babysitting her nephew who was younger than me and still wearing cotton training pants.
She told us to sit on the kitchen floor and she poured out a box of small toys for us to play with.
So we happily sat together playing and she sat watching us.
In a while she got up, walked a couple of steps into the bathroom. Not paying any attention, we continued our play until she reappeared in the kitchen, scooped up my playmate and headed back to the bathroom as she pulled is pants off.
I followed and saw her sit in a straight kitchen chair in front of the basin, which was full of soapy water with an infant enema bulb floating in it.
It was just like the one my Mom used on me. She turned my playmate upside down in her lap pinning his legs against his chest and started giving him several bulbs of soapy water in his butthole.
He hollered, “Oh, Oh,“ every time she inserted the bulb. After a few bulbs full, she sat him on his potty and told him to sit still and grunt.
Obediently, he sat still and she said, “Auntie needs one too.”
With that she stripped down naked, not paying any attention to me. It was the first time I had ever seen a grown woman nude.
She reached in the bathroom’s closet and retrieved a big red bag with a long hose and a long black nozzle. I learned later that it was a douche nozzle.
She produced a cup too and started filling the bag. She filled it completely full with soap suds running down the side.
Next she opened a jar of Vaseline and greased the nozzle. Then she laid on the bath mat on her back with her butt toward me.
Then she raised her legs back to her chest and worked the nozzle into her butthole. I know my eyes had to be as large as saucers. I remember she had a full bush of black hair between her legs all the way around her anus.
When the tube disappeared in her rear, so opened a clamp on the long hose and started deep breathing.
I couldn’t have been standing more than four feet away. I’d say I had a ring side seat.
As the enema was flowing, she reached a hand into her black hair. That’s when I spoke for the first time asking, “What are you doing?”
She looked at me and said, “this helps the enema feel better.” Years later I realized she was simply masturbating.
She continued until the red bag went flat. Then she stopped, reached up and closed the clamp, laid back and relaxed without removing the big nozzle.
It was about that time my playmate asked if he could go play. She told him she needed to wipe him.
With that she reached between her legs and pulled out the nozzle to sit up laying the nozzle in the basin of soapy water. She stood still holding her enema, got some toilet paper and wiped my playmate’s butt.
She told him he was a good boy, put his training pants back on and told us to go play while she used the bathroom.
We went back to our pile of toys and auntie sat on the commode without closing the door. She began expelling her enema and we were out of her sight but within easy earshot.
That was my introduction to adult enemas. It marked me for life and medfet has been a kink ever since.
I wondered for years why she chose to give and take an enema during a play date and why she took her enema in front of children.
Only thing that makes sense to me is she thought we were too young to remember. I can’t remember much as a three-year-old but I remember that as if it was yesterday.