My Very first enema

Not intended to be a fantasy.

Just a re-telling of eventds that happened in 1966 or 67. There has been a lot of water through the colon,as well as a long list of laxatives since then.

If I am filling in where my memory fails I apologize.

Looking back on my first enema, it is funny now looking back more than 60 years.

We were living in the Midwest, in what passed for a major city in the Midwest at the time!

My only sibling, a brother who is younger than me by more than 5 years. I remember him coming home from the hospital in one of the worst snowstorms I have ever seen.

As a result I have some memories of him as a baby but not as many when he was around 1 or 2 because I was mostly in school most of the year.

I had seen the 4-oz red rubber bulb around in various boxes, a stored diaper bag and various other containers, never left out in the open. Mom also had a hot water bottle/syringe combo that she would sometimes use for a douche

I never saw the enema nozzle it came with. I knew the nozzles of the bag and the bulb were different and would not cross over,

To hear Mom tell it she was TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY against the use of enemas in anything but babies or very old people. Or at least that was her line.

Later, when we had moved to the East Coast  I over heard some things that convinced me that was false!

In any case Mom never gave me a single enema. NOT ONE EVER.

The result is that the vast majority of my enemas were self-administered The ones that were given to me by anyone else were given by my enema-loving  girlfriend  I had met as a co-worker on my first job after high school/

I was full-time, she was one of t6he high schoolers who were hired part-time to fill in the evenings and weekends.  The full timers still had to pull some evening/weekend shifts since we were fully-trained So there were certain things only full-timers were allowed to do
By the time we really noticed each other, at least in terms of sexual attraction, I was 19 and she had just turned 17 so it was legal. At that time, I did not know about her love of enemas. That’s another story for another day.

The point is all the enemas I had taken have taken since have been self-administered, and all but the early ones were done when Mom was not able to catch me!

One time when my brother was less than a year old, I walked into the baby’s bedroom and Mom had him in the bassinette. That red bulb I spoke of earlier was standing upright o another section of the bassinette. There was a small dishpan with water and a couple of washcloths on the bassinette as well. She had some baby wash next to that.  She turned him over on his tummy and put him over as rolled- up towel in what I now know to be the knee chest position. She carefully inserted the nozzle into his rectum and squeezed. I have NEVER heard a scream that loud out of any baby before and maybe once since! I right away popped out with “What you doing She then held him up, both feet in one hand The other pinching his butt closed.  He kept crying and after what seemed like an eternity, she looked up at the wall clock, turned him on his back and allowed the inevitable happen.

Mommy”?   She said , “Giving your brother an enema.” My 5-year-old brain processed that as “anamer” even though Mom had by that time lost most of her accent

 

 I didn’t realize the mistake until sometime after I had played with the bulb a couple of times, including the time this story is about! That shows how little enemas were even spoken of in our house.

She never said, even after the whole thing had been over for a day WHY she did it or what effect it was supposed to have. I learned that years later. I asked her if I could have one and she said “Absolutely NOT! It’s only for babies and old people! You have outgrown that! There were several times when I have long believed since I started using bag enemas as a teen that a HWB bag enema was warranted. That’s who she is! Another story for another time!

 I have always been curious. Sometimes to a fault

Over the next couple of years, I saw the bulb in various places under the bathroom sink.

Mom had referenced “putting water in your bottom” in various situations through life She never said WHY someone would have to have water put in their bottom!

As far as she would ever go was to say that it was for babies and old people.

By then I had figured out that the bulb was a tool for putting water in your bottom without ever knowing why!

I remember staring at the bulb several times and wanting to try it.

Finally, one winter day after school when Mom was first doing laundry, then in the kitchen, I went in the bathroom to pee. Mom’s red bag was hanging up to dry. She must have used it while I was in school. I don’t remember where my brother was  but I felt confident that I was alone and could try that bulb without anyone knowing.

 

I dug the bulb out from the diaper bag under the sink, and held it in my hand with the nozzle pointed away from me. With the other hand I pulled the nozzle out and put it back in.

I wondered how to get the water in the bulb.

I turned the faucet on and tried to see how low I could set the water to trickle without it turning to just a drip. Once I found the sweet spot, I popped the nozzle out and held the bulb under the trickle of water and let it fill. While the bulb was filling, I started thinking. Something I probably should not do when enemas are involved. I thought “He was a baby then and took one bulb. I probably should take at least 3 or 4 bulbs.” The bulb was full.

I don’t remember for sure but I must have left the water trickling in anticipation of the second bulb.

I pulled down my pants and tidy whiteys. I asked myself, “Do I have the guts?”

I took the bulb in my dominant hand and touched it to my rose bud and told myself to stop being a chicken! I pushed it in, a little surprised at how easily it went all the way in. It didn’t hurt but it did feel weird. I don’t remember what my breathing was like though it must have been nervous. I squeezed the bulb as hard but steady as I could.  Another new feeling even weirder than the first but again no pain. A bit of pleasure maybe! I pulled it out and let the bulb reinflate. There was poop on the nozzle. J cleaned that off with a piece of toilet paper.  I had seen mom, when she gave that one to my brother, shake the bulb a little and say, “there is still something in there!” she had stuck it back in and given it a second squeeze. Not all the way this time. I shook the bulb a little, I could hear that “zing-zing,” sound not unlike walking on a frozen pond.  I stuck it back in and squeezed again I

I must have gotten more air than water that time.

With that much water and some air inside me already I stuck the bulb back under the trickling faucet. I quickly stuck it back in and did the same thing a second time.  It felt good having that extra water inside me. I was also feeling a little bloated.  I got a third bulb in the same way. By then I was feeling bloated and uncomfortable. It also felt pleasurable. I was in my teens before I understood that it can be normal for pleasure and pain to occur at the same time.

I was going to try one more but by then I was getting distressed I was afraid I was going to poop and squirted it in the sink.

Good thing I did because the water that cay me out was brown with small chunks of poop

I wiped off the nozzle and quickly stashed the bulb back in the under-sink diaper bag I had found it in. Standing hurt a little and I was ready to lose it. Being the stubborn child I was, I clenched up. Managed to stand up, pull up my underwear and pants and make it look normal. I was hurting and ready to explode! Ad acquired at

I walked into my bedroom right next to the bathroom. I had my own record player. I put an LP on the record player.

I also had an antique rocking chair that my parents had purchased from an estate sale soon after they were married. By then they had decided it was too creaky for them, so they made it mine. I rocked in that chair. My penis was erect, more sensitive than I had ever experienced before. Every time I rocked forward I felt a hot flash in my penis. I had no idea what was happening. All I knew was I had put 3 bulbs of water in my bottom and was struggling to keep it in. I had no idea! Were the hot flashes in the penis related to what I had done to my bottom? was not sure! j

After the LP got to about the second or third song I had to cry uncle and give in to my bottom I leaked a little in my underwear just before I pulled them down and plopped onto the toilet.

Now remember, I had no idea what this was for, or even what it was called. I knew nothing of timing.

That water had to have been in me AT LEAST 30 minutes or more so there was some water absorption into the bowel wall. Very little water and a lot of pasty poop came out. I wondered if I was a success because so little water had come out or a failure because so much poop came out. I flushed, cleaned myself up flushed again and a third time.

I lay awake most of the night thinking about what I had just done and wondering if what I did was good or bad.

As I learned more by going with Dad to the public library, waiting for him to get engrossed in his own work there and finding things on my own I learned a lot through time, changing the experience from negative to a positive one!

That, for what it’s worth, was my first ever enema in my life. By the time I took another one we had moved to the southeast.