While growing up I remember receiving enemas as a young girl. They were given to me as I laid across my mother’s lap. Mom used a bulb syringe for my enema. If I tried to resist these enemas I would receive a bare bottom spanking.
Mom never called it an enema, she always said she was going to give my sister or me a “douching out“. The first time I was given an adult enema when I was 12 years old. It was given to me by a nurse using a big red enema bag.
I was in the hospital and had my tonsils removed, before I could be discharged I was asked by the nurse, if I had had a BM . When I told her no, she told me that I wouldn’t be discharged until I had good BM. She said I had a choice; if I wanted out today she could give me an enema, or she could give me castor oil and I might not get out until the next day.
I knew what castor oil was. Yuck! I didn’t know what an enema was. It had to be better than castor oil plus I could go home today. I took the enema. A short time later she returned pushing a little cart covered with a cloth. When she started to pull the privacy curtains I thought she was going to take my temperature like the nurses had done several times before.
Instead she took the cloth off the cart and there I saw what looked like a big red hot water bottle. Attached to it was a long hose with a white tip on the end. When I asked her what it was for, she told me that she was going to give me an enema with it and if I took the full bag like a lady I would be able to go home that day.
I never saw an enema bag before and I wasn‘t sure what an enema was. I asked the nurse what’s an enema. She said that she would put warm water into me and it would make me have a good BM. She said that most girls my age who took enemas said they liked them.
The nurse instructed me to lie on my left side and I felt the cool air on my bottom as she opened the back of my hospital gown. I must admit I was embarrassed and hoped that no one could see my bare bottom. I had had my temperature taken many time during my hospital stay so I wasn’t surprised as I felt my cheeks being separated and lubrication being applied. Even as the nozzle slid into me it felt like the thermometer.
But when I heard the snap of the shut off clamp and the warmth of the enema starting to flow into me, I was surprised. I told the nurse to stop, I don’t want an enema, but she wouldn’t stop. She told me to relax and breathe deeply. I tried to reach the nozzle to remove it, but she grabbed my hand and reminded be that I wasn’t a little girl anymore. She said I needed to act like a woman not a baby.
It took all my effort to lay there, as the enema flowed into me, but I managed to do it. To my surprise, it feeling pretty good. The more I relaxed and stopped resisting the enema, the better it felt. Soon I had taken the full bag and heard the snap of the shut off clamp. I really liked the feeling as the nurse slowly removed the nozzle from me. I had never felt that feeling before and it would be years before I felt that feeling again when I received my first enjoyable enema. That is another story.