What psychological aspect of your enema ritual particularly turns you on?

Deb, I agree with your point that we all "surrender" to our enema at the point where the nozzle has been inserted and only the clamp needs to be opened before the rush begins. The surrender moment is precious, a particular point when the decision is made and there is no turning back, no evading that full bag hanging above your head. You know the first flow will hit you, you know you will feel those first cramps, you know that you will hang on until the cramps are ended and the enema has gone up into your bowel. Then you know the surrender is complete, irrevocable, inevitable. Ah-h-h, that feeling is incredible.

I agree with redbulb more than I can express.

For me, that word "enema" meant more to me than the actual activity, which itself, I was addicted to by age 11. I would repeat the word and sentences containing it while receiving. I would think of the word while looking at pretty girls and women in primary and secondary school, just women after that. As my libido has declined, so has thinking of the word and the use of the procedure. Now, I prefer suppositories, because they start out so /nothing/little, and become so everything. Enemas, on the other hand start out significant and can even decline, if a TWE on a hot day (which is fine for it's purpose).

Danfox you sure deep down that you really want to receive one and what it really feels like, maybe you do! 😉 😜

Careful analysis of all these posts indicated an enema is emotional. Feelings from sight, smell, touch, converge on us as the role we will play; as giver or receiver. Some of us enjoy giving enemas as a form of love knowing full well the pleasure we will give to someone. As a receiver, I also enjoy my mate to tell me what they will do liberally using "enema" in our dialog. There is an electricity in the word. Repeat enema several times and it excites. Then moving on to the visual. The bags and bulbs and irrigator cans bring their own thrills. Ribbed red hoses and black nozzles, bring back memories. Soaps and Vaseline enhance feelings. Finally, the near proximity of your enemate brings such a human touch that is so sexually exciting. In reality, the enema may be more about sex than we care to admit. Certainly getting relief from constipation is rewarding, but let us confess, getting sexual release from enemas is a major driver.

This is a thought provoking question...Or one I never thought before...

I guess, if I think about it, the strongest psychological effect I have when facing the prospect of receiving an enema is what precede the act. When I'm told I'm about to receive one and it's explained to me in detail what I'm about to receive, how long I would need to hold and even what is that for.

That alone can enhance the whole setting. Gives me more powerful vibes for the whole procedure.

Then it depends on the setting per se. I like to receive enemas either from "caring hands" in that case the comfort I'm to receive while receiving it, holding and then expelling or in the after-care is something precious to me, it makes me feel...cared for and special in some way. To think that someone took his/her time to actually care for me, despite my willingness or not, to do what is "best for me"... makes me feel good.

On the other side, if I'm to be punished with an enema... well that too makes me feel something, but for different reason. It gives me the thrill that submitting to a due punishment can always make me feel. The ritual of receiving chastisement, being ordered to strip or remove part of my clothes, maybe even stand in a corner while the enema is being prepared...that gives me shivers and actually awake the submissive part (which is a very big part of me) of my being.

An internal struggle began as I fight the instinct to flee, at same time I have to fight the desire to submit completely. Of course I always trust people I "play" with or "submit to". I would never dream of doing anything otherwise...but the smallest part of my mind has that small flame of doubt that make me feel even more. When I am positioned to receive my due... and then the whole act. Even the penetration and filling are something that make me moan in pleasure. Both the physical expect and psychological one get mixed in that moment.

But... I think the most important thing is the mutual respect. I give myself freely to the other person, be it either for my own care or my own foolhardily (if I'm being punished of course I must have disobeyed before...)....still it's a show of someone caring for me. That's probably what turn me on the most.

Uhm....I hope it makes some sense....my grammar sometimes flee from my mind and I end up writing blabbering things without much sense.

I guess one would be my stepmother s voice saying "you're going to have an enema"

Or my childhood friend Davids voice on the phone "you want me to come over tonight and give you an enema?

Then the image of a young me, lying face down on the bathroom floor. Nude below the waist, both hands reaching behind me spreading my cheeks wide in dread or anticipation (depending on my age) of receiving the black, hard rubber nozzle (Pirelli made in Italy stamped into it) which I was watching being rubbed on the same wet bar of soap which 'seasoned' the milky solution which had just filled the bag from a quart Revere Ware copper bottom saucepan filled full.

Hearing that metallic click of the metal clamp which meant I'd be feeling either discomfort before about age 10 and pleasure after age 12.

Looking over my shoulder to see how flat the bag was getting. viewing the amber colored 2 qt travel style bag with brown hose which was filling, me quickly. Being told to put my head back down and don't watch the bag.

As a teen, sitting on my bed early before school wondering if I should pretend to have "stomach trouble" to stay home from school, but really hoping, like it sometimes did, that I could, get given some enemas that day.

Sitting on the toilet expelling your second or third enema After you played sick as above. Though pretty much clear water was all that came out, you're deciding whether to tell her that you need more

Oh, almost forgot, the feeling I'd get when I knew or thought that others, family or strangers knew I was getting an enema. Often by a door left partly ajar, sometimes by,me or looking up at the opened bathroom window, knowing my sister and her friends were on the patio able to hear every sound.

Strangely being vulnerable but in control.

As a kid I received the usual terrifying enemas being intimidated and afraid of that full bag knowing the soon to be inside me. I lost all control of my dignity and humiliated to be in that position. Helpless.

But that the seeds for incredible psychological development.

In my adulthood I re-explored enemas.

I learned how to take them endure pain and saw I was vulnerable even to myself. But it's not until I learned high capacity and retention that those early childhood memories led to philosophy today: The enema does NOT control me; I control the enema."

When I am in the 5th quart and then the challenge of retaining it for 45 minutes, I chant, " I control the enema; it doesn't control me,"

I apply that to other aspects of life.

Ron

Exposing my butthole ,the feel of nozzle entering my rectum

When I realize that I will have a few hours of alone time the butterflies in the stomach start, the excitement starts when I remove all of my clothes, I start getting rigid when the equipment comes out then I decide which nozzle I will start with and also lay out the next. I will also lay the paddle out and decide if I will get the paddle while holding the first enema. The excitement really peaks after the bag if full and the nozzle lubed knowing the next sensation will be the nozzle slowly being inserted all the way to the hose connection.

For me it's the smell of Ivory soap as I prepare my enema. That familiar scent takes me back to my childhood and memories of laying on the bathroom floor as my mom used the bulb syringe on me, which is the root of my fetish. Just like then, that smell tells me that my bowels will soon be filled with that soapy solution and I will be struggling to hold it in. .

The thought of being minty clean. Filling up completely, then expelling, repeat until only water comes out. The anticipation of cleansing so I can start stretching myself with a large plug that'll take some careful work to get in.

Just thinking that very soon I will be lying down, or on my knees with my butt in the air, and slowly inserting the well lubricated nozzle into my lubricated waiting anus, and feeling the enema slowly fill me up until I have this overwhelming urge to expel is a "turn on" for me. Although enemas are a physical action, they're every bit a psychological phenomenon.

I think all of the things leading up to the actual insertion of the enema nozzle give me the most thrill. The anticipation of having the enema inserted, the knowledge that there will be cramping, embarrassment, the feeling of loss of control. I have very vivid memories of getting enemas during childhood. The hearing the call to come into the bathroom, the smell of the bathroom, with the ivory soap mixing with the hot water. I remember the feeling of having my pants puled down and placed on the toilet. The feeling of being placed face down over my aunt's lap, her naked legs (or the feeling of the dress) against my penis. The hearing of the vaseline jar being open anthe first touch of her finger against my rectum.

I was battling an occasional "C" and feeling bloated, like this past Sunday, when my husband nudged me to take a hot shower soon as I got home from working overtime to meet a project deadline. I slipped into my comfy robe and pjs. We had a light dinner, my favorite pumpkin squash soup in the winter. A glass of my favorite wine was relaxing.

A nice time to catch up on our busy weekend, cuddling on the sofa. Should I have an enema tonight before bed? My husband said he will tear himself away from the March Madness basketball on TV if I ask. Surprise. I've just been able to go, and was feeling better. Sometimes delaying an enema to another time, if I don't need it, makes that experience more special. Even too many enemas can be too much of a good thing!

Hearing the word enema coming from another person. Like the doctor wants me to give you an enema. The nurse explaining the prep and saying we need you to take two enemas an hour apart before the appointment. After hearing the word enema and the wait until it happens. Also knowing that the other person knows you will be getting one whether they will be involved or not.

The memory of my mom putting the warm, fluffy towel under my butt!!! That feeling of the warm towel against my naked butt...."then" when (I was lying on my back on her bed) she reached down and with her fingers she spread my butt cheeks and i felt "The COOL AIR" against my rosebud!! From previous enemas I knew what was next and sure enough the cool sensation of the well lubricated nozzle entering my butt hole and the accompanying rush of warm water .... but most of all was her warm loving smile because she was doing something good for me (I was sick at the time with the flu at almost 3 years old... but "I REMEMBER" and have never forgotten!!

To this day ... The warm towel on my bed especially a nice fluffy one.........."Just Feels Good!!!" What more can I say?? The well lubed tip entering, that first rush of the water.... after the "Klick!!!!" and if you notice I always sign off with that statement.....

"With a 'Klick!!!!!!,'"

highwater

Seeing the equipment being taken out of the bathroom cabinet made my heart race with fear and excitement.

This is a most interesting question!

Loved what Claudia and WillyNilly wrote...and I must agree, although I haven't yet experienced as a giver or receiver : snif, snif!!!

Gave you both hearts...

My present girlfriend is learning to give herself, and loves to pee on me...

Enemas are a long way away, I fear...

Warm Hugs,

SDK

For me, it's that initial flow of the enema- the warmness of the liquid, me squeezing and holding back that first urge to expel and then giving my penis a few strokes during these first few seconds of my 3 quart enema session. But it's more that.

There are many psychological and physical aspects to my enema sessions: the before (anticipation) during (fullness and the long expelling gushes) and the after (orgasm). The total is greater than the sum parts.

I would say taking out the MAGIC SUITCASE getting out the equipment filling the equipment selection of nozzles or colon tubes ect. Then the act itself if working with a playmate having them watch the process heightens the scene!

I would have to say that my mom's ' announcement ' , ever so sweet , soft and gentle so as not to arouse more pending ' angst ' than I probably had , of ......... ' I'm going to give you an enema ' ...... still echos for me today as to a fondly remembered ' psychological aspect ' from my past . As I matured in our enema activities , my mom would invite me to assist her in preparing my enema after she retrieved our family enema bag syringe from her bedroom closet . She would prepare the warm water solution while I ' held the bag open ' for her to add the solution . She then assembled the remaining hose / shut-off clamp / enema rectal tip / pipe and ensured that all was in good working order . And finally ...... I ' held the bag and the hose ' as she lubricated the rectal tip for a smooth entry into my waiting rectum . It all began however with her ' announcement ' .

Whether with a real partner or real masturbation plus fantasy Domme, other than physical stimulation the most arousing element of an enema is the submission and/or humiliation of being "forced" to submit to anal probing and belly filling. Fantastic. With a trusted Domme partner, the more I have to take and hold and the longer I'm told to hold it (usually while giving her orgasms), the more submissive and arousing it is. As long as I know (or believe) I'll get an orgasm and colon relief sometime during the session (which might be hours later or tomorrow morning), the more the humiliation of distention, tasks and denial arouses me.

Almost like the sound of a lock clicking to keep me rubberized or bound or plugged, there's another very intense sound that a Domme partner did sometimes. When I'm still sweating in rubber and sneakers, belly distended and having given her orgasms, one of the most intense things she can say is "GoodNight," so I'll have to stay rubber-dressed, distended and plugged in submission sleeping next to her until morning or she changes her mind. Come to think if it, even better would be saying Goodnight followed by asking if I needed to use my safe word. She'd almost be guaranteed I'd say green, making me humiliatingly understand I'd be enclosed, distended and plugged probably until morning! This only happened a few times with my ex #2, but I'll never forget it. Wow.

Eric

I spent some time growing up in a Catholic orphanage one ofbthe disterscwas the nurse and she could cure any thing with an enema, didnt matter what wss wrong muliple ehemas was the Cure .

Enemas turn me on because they help me fulfill a mostly subconscious desire to experience what it would feel like to be a woman being fucked by a man. I'm happy as a man. My wife and I love to fuck, but I really want to know what she experiences and feels that drives her so mad with sexual passion. The only way to come close to that as a man, other than having sex reassignment surgery, is anal penetration. Enemas are a form of anal penetration, especially the way I do them.

I love all kinds of anal penetration. I've never done it, but I fantasize another man fucks me anally, and I feel his ejaculate squirting inside me. Maybe an enema squirting inside me partially fulfills this fantasy. Almost as much as I love to fuck my wife, I love her to fuck me. I am so happy that she loves to make me cum by fucking me with a dildo, her fist, or a strap on.

I crave the extreme anal penetration of extreme enemas. I feel utterly penetrated when I snake my 1-inch diameter colon tube through my anus, my rectum, and the entire length of my colon, and then open the valve to release a full gallon of hot water to wash through me from the inside out. If you're curious what that looks like, see my image album:

https://www.zity.biz/index.php?mx=gallery;ox=showalbum;ax=7400

Anticipation is the best thing, followed closely by the smell of the rubber and soap.

For me it would have to been about the time the first cramp hits and I just close my eyes and envision my self being give a enema by all the girls I wanna fuck so bad and empty a gallon bag into. I just lay there and moan and think about them and sometimes when I’m alone at it say there names and tell them how bad of a boy I am and how this will punish me so much Then while I expel think about them on there knees servicing me at the same time as there being filled up and made to hold it until I cum in there mouth or mouths

The sensual bliss of surrender when I become aware that resistance is ebbing away.

Remembering in my childhood laying naked on the towels on the bathroom floor looking at the huge bulging red combination bag full of warm water hanging from the door of the medicine cabinet over the sink. The black bat shaped nozzle already coated with Vaseline sticking over the edge of the sink. My mom squatting down with the nozzle in hand, parting my cheeks and slowly inserting the hard nozzle deep into my rectum. The loud click as the clamp was opened and the strong jet of water as it began to surge into my tightly clogged rectum. The pressure rapidly building as I filled up and the cramp as I asked my mom to "stop". The loud click of the clamp being closed. The relief that followed, as the pressure stopped building and soon the pressure would fall as the warm water found its way around the blockage. The loud click of the clamp being opened again and the process repeated until the water was all inside of me or until I could take no more....which usually meant a second enema ("just to be sure you are cleaned out" my mom would say). Waddling to the toilet with a bulging tummy and the relief of releasing the torrent of water and waster that would pour out of my distended rectum. Rubbing my tummy as more and more water found its way out of me. And just when you think it is over, more water finds its way out. AAAAHH memories!

I think that for me it was the interaction , verbiage and the bonding I felt with my mother and grandmothers as they all so kindly and graciously addressed my enema needs when they thought I required same . These were just wonderful women in my formative years from whom my enema was an extension of their love for me . I know for a fact that these ladies were personal practitioners of the enema as they exchanged them with each other as a need or , I think , desire evidenced itself . I have and always will associate the use of enemas with women in any ' give / receive ' role past or present and as I have practiced same . I think women by their natures are much better adept as to the enema than we men ever will be . Thanks to all the wonderful enema ladies that I have known in my life with whom I have exchanged as to either ' give ' or ' receive ' whether those dear women be relatives , friends and nurses .............. I love you all ...... and again , thanks for the memories and occasional present enema interaction .........

I think for me the anticipation on knowing it’s coming always had a huge impact on me. My mother would usually say something like ‘come upstairs please, or Isaac please come in my bathroom right now’. When I walked in the bag was normally filled and ready and I would be told that I was getting an enema. I can still feel the butterflies in my stomach thinking about it. Then hearing the words, lets get you out of those clothes.

There were some other times when we would be in the car or out somewhere and she would say ‘I am giving you an enema when we get home’ that just made the wait that much longer and the anticipation greater.