'Big boy' enemas

Growing up, I was raised to be a 'good boy.' My mother reinforced this with a wooden paddle. The enema was used for fevers and once as a kind of punishment. With time, its meaning has morphed in my head. Some of my fantasies now revolve around what it means to be a 'good bot' or a 'big boy,' that is, to be able to take a large, hot, and soapy enema without any fussing, just like the other big boys do. and to make my mother proud of me. I'm curious if this resonates with others. I'm thinking it is a form of age-play.

-EB

I was complemented for being good and taking my enemas with not much fuss. So guess I was a good boy. My sister was not a good girl however. She would yell and kick and say "take it out, I don't need an enema!"But that did no good. She got the enemas anyway. Lol. Poor girl. I regret I was never allowed in the bathroom to witness her lavage, but she sure described what was happening behind the bathroom door.

I think the "good boy" line began my life-long fixation/obsession with enemas. My mother was very distant and not at all affectionate; we had no real bond (when she was dying she told my brother that she didn't change our diapers as kids -- so there is one huge complication. ) But she almost never showed affection -- except at enema time, when she would say "that's a good boy" when I expelled. Hence the connection. The few times I have done enemas with women, I have reminded myself "she's not my mother." But there's some pretty deep, weird stuff here somewhere.

Perhaps opening up an enormous can of psychological worms here, ranging from trying to achieve parental approval for overcoming a strenuous task (taking the enema without fussing), therefore we repeat the process over and over into adulthood because we can never in our mind gain the complete approval we want from our parent(s); to trying over and over to re-live a perceived sexual act (acceptance of the enema) with the parent/administrator as a first sexual partner. when we *take it like a big boy*, we're satisfying them and with that approval we also satisfy that need for approval we crave. when we are able to complete the task in a manner which we feel would be acceptable to the administrator, it satisfies the need in us to feel that sense of approval that we were unable to accomplish in other areas. when this occurs in childhood, it becomes ingrained in our minds in a way that never really goes away and can never completely be satisfied. it becomes a defense mechanism that we come to rely on, especially in times of stress. that judeochristian guilt thing just never does go away, and probably continues till long after the parent is deceased. sounds pretty creepy, but these explanations have been put forth in forums like this in the past. PS: this explanation was not intended to diagnose, treat or cure any disease!

Fulloky - beautifully said. Thanks.

The term Big Boy happened when I graduated from bulb enemas to a bag enema. I was five and the doctor ordered enemas till clear. It was the beginning of my long term love of enemas.

Bagman, can you describe what happened? how come so many enemas at 5yrs old?

It resonates with me too. It was mom's explanation on "graduation day" when I was called into the bathroom and saw the bulging family bag hanging on the robe hook. The 8 oz. bulb syringe that I was beginning to develop affection for was nowhere in sight. Mom explained that I was getting to be a big boy now and needed to get my enemas like everyone else - no more baby enemas. Sure, it was frightening. Those first enemas I was given with the fountain syringe were traumatic, and mom made sure I was uncomfortably full before I was allowed to expel. But Mom's encouraging words of what a good boy I was, how good I was taking the enema, and how important it is to have a good enema regularly, all helped me to relax and take my enemas without fuss. In short order I was enjoying the big enemas as much as I enjoyed getting the bulb. Seems it ended much too quickly though. My uncontrollable erections were uncomfortable to mom and the next phase of self-administration began.

" take it like a big boy " my aunts favorite saying

It resonates with me enemaboy2004. Growing up my mother did the same as yours except her's was with her oval oak hair brush. My fantasies are the same as yours. Yes it is a form of age-play.

My mother used the enema when I was a bad boy. I woukd be taken into the bathroom she would pull in a pair if domestic marigold gloves and I knew I was in for trouble. She would get the other equipment out and put me over har knee. All the time she would say it was for my own good that she was doing this. I was forced to remain as she held onto my private parts deliberately squeezing them tightly to take my mind off my enema as she filled me up and then made retain it

I was always encouraged to be a "Big Girl" and take a little more water, hold a little longer, etc.

Yep. I feel ya on this. My dad encouraged me to take bigger and rougher enemas. I wanted to be his good girl, so i did it.

Mom always said that's a good boy as she emptied the bulb in me.

Jim

All enemas I remember from mom as a kid were with a red bulb. I also remember getting a few from grandma with a similar bulb when we were dropped off at her house while mom and dad went shopping, and mom did not have time to address my problem earlier.

When I was 10, I stayed at grandma's while mom went to the hospital for the birth of my youngest brother. While I was there, grandma determined I needed an enema because it had been a couple of days since I went poop. I figured no problem because I remembered the previous enemas with the bulb. But, when she called me to the bathroom there was no red bulb in sight but a big red hot water bottle hanging on the towel bar. It was huge and I asked her what that was for. She said something like "big boys get their enemas like this." I probably took about half of the bag before I told her I just could not take anymore. It was surely more water in my belly than mom ever gave me with a few squirts from the red bulb, but in spite of the discomfort, I liked it.

Since we did not have a bag at home, it would be a long time before I was out on my own and bought a bag to regularly give myself big boy enemas.

I can tell you that at a certain birthday perhaps 8 or 9, I wished for 3 things;

1. Learn to be a better swimmer.

2. Teach myself to ride a 2 wheel bicycle.

3. Able to handle one of the enemas from grandma better, with no fussing.

I never heard the term "big boy enemas" but my mom was giving me enemas from the bag by age 6-7. The bag was not totally filled, but it was usually about 3/4 full at least. I would be encouraged to take as much as I could because if it did not work well enough I would be given another enema. I remember taking water until I thought i would burst then taking some more. The warmth and pressure in my rectum would feel good against my young prostate even at that age.

3. Able to handle one of the enemas from grandma better, with no fussing.

I think at 8 I would have still been wishing to no longer get the enemas.

A big boy enema is a full very warm doapy enema administered over the givers lap. The giver is responsible for coaxing him to take the whole bag and uses his free hand to stroke and excite the receivets cock do he gets both ass and cock pleasurr

A big boy enema is a full very warm soapy 2 qt enema administered over the givers lap. The giver is responsible for coaxing him to take the whole bag and uses his free hand to stroke and excite the receivers cock so he gets both ass and cock pleasure

Re bulbnbag's reply. I would just love one of those over-the-knee type "big boy" enemas that he described. Only problem: "the giver is responsible for coaxing him to take the whole bag and uses his free hand to stroke and excite the receivers cock so he gets both ass and cock pleasure." That would be so insanely erotic for me, that I'd probably last three minutes from when he started "stroking and exciting" my cock. There'd then be the embarrassment of my cuming all over his legs and making a mess.

In our house a "big boy" enema came from a bag. A "little kids" enema came from a bulb.

If "Big Boy" enemas come from a bag, all I got were "little boy" enemas, over mom's lap with a bulb - even when I was almost 14. I suspect this is reinforced my fetish about being babied as an older boy.

Striving really hard to please a parent or an older female when taking enemas for them is a recurring theme in my memory. The challenge I faced when I was growing up was learning how to submit myself to a series of very warm and extra soapy enemas administered to me on my hands and knees in the bathtub. Strangely - the ones I craved and dreamed about were the kind that fills you up to the very brim inside with much panting and groaning and a longing for permission to get on the toilet to expel. She began calling these "big boy" enemas and, around the age of eight, I began getting them on a regular basis. What I recall is that they were a lot more difficult to hold, with more soapsuds cascading from the mouth of the bag than what I had been getting before. She told me how proud she was when I managed to take the entire bag full for her without stopping.

Never hear the term "big boy enema". But was told, when asked about it, the curved black Bakelite nozzle with holes along it's sides was the adult enema nozzle.

My introduction to Being a Big Boy came in the form of my mothers youngest sister. She was my grandparents mistake. Sally was only f ive years older than me. I was 9 and Sally Ann was 15. I remember almost all of that afternoon activity. I had juist finished lunch and had waited the thirty minutes before gettong in the pool to swim.only fiuve minutes or less Sally cxame in the back yard and told me I was needed up st5airs. I dryed off and hurried up to my parents bed room. As I walked in the room I saw Sally spreading out bthe light blue rubber sheet on top of a heavy terry cloth beach towel. Sally then informed me I get to give you yuour first Big Boy Enema. All i said was No Mom Please NO. "Greg I have decided Sally is the perfetc teacher for you, and she dosent have a little brother. Sally ran in the bathroom and closed the door. she came out five minutes later dressed in one of her mothers nursing uniforms and a pair of white high heels and she was holding a huge clear transparent enema bag filled with very soapy water. then came my older sister and she had dads video camera. i was never shown that video till Sally and my sister gave it to my wife at our wedding reception. Sally inserted the big vaginal douch nozzel in my rear and held it in me between her fingers withy her hand on my bottom till the bag giurgled empty. I took the entire 2 liters. I still sit through a viewing every birthday. My older sister just said "Suck it up Big Boy"

I also fantasize about this sort of thing. I fantasize about whining and moaning while taking a large enema, a spanking, or injections into my bottom while the female “giver” in the situation tells me to “be a big boy” or “take it like a man”

I heard "Big Boy" when i sprung a little boner while the grease was getting spread on my waiting hiney hole.

While not exactly called a 'big boy' enema, my first full-bag enema was at age 12. At the urging of my mother's sisters, my enemas were increased from the usual half-full bag to a bag full since they said I was old enough and big enough for a 2 quart enema.

I, of course, was not consulted about this decision and was unpleasantly surprised at the next occasion for an enema when I was confronted with a full bulging bag of soapsuds hanging from the towel rack as I entered the bathroom. My mother explained that her sisters (the "Coven") had graduated their own children to a full bag at that age and I was also now old enough and big enough for an adult enema.

It was a real struggle at first to take the 2 quarts, and if I did not, the bag was refilled and we started again. Even now, as an adult, I still struggle to take an entire bag full at times.

I was never told during or after receiving an enema that I was a "good" or "big boy"...actually the opposite of "don't be rude", "no one has died from it" or "you don't know , which really means a big enema", etc.

I deliberately received bulb enemas from the age of 5. I was given the content of 4 to 6 bulbs with an estimated content of 4 oz, later this was replaced by a bulb with a black cannula, which had about 6 oz. The number of 4 to 6 fillings remained constant.

In retrospect, for my age, that was a hefty amount that was put into my colon... from my point of view, I was a big boy...

it occurs to me, in reality there was only one "Big Boy", that was a gigantic steam locomotive in Wyoming...😂😎