For many years I’ve struggled with guilt over my private sexual feelings. One of my biggest turn-ons, is to give, or be given, an enema! This was a fetish I acquired during my childhood.
My Mother was an RN, and was constantly worried that my sister Rose and I might be coming down with some sickness. As a result of this fear, she was always looking for “Signs”, of impending illnesses. One of the ways she monitored our condition, was by taking our rectal temperatures. Most kids I knew had there temperatures taken this way, but our mother did it practically every day and was still doing it when I was 16!
At first Rose and I didn’t much enjoy having mother stick the thermometer in our bottoms, and we would cry and put up quite a struggle when she did it. She would generally hold us down across her knees for the procedure. She’d pull our underwear down to our knees, spread apart our cheeks, and slowly push the instrument into us. Eventually, we resigned ourselves to this being something we had to put up with, and we began submitting quietly to her. What’s strange, was that after awhile, I actually began to like getting my temperature taken rectally and I submitted to her willingly! Oh I would still put up a fuss and pretend that I disliked it, I would have been too embarrassed to let her know that I was enjoying it. In reality, it was a wonderful feeling each time she pushed this cold thermometer into my rectum. My little asshole clamped tightly around it, as it warmed slowly to my body temperature.
When I was about eight, mother decided that we weren’t having regular enough bowel movements, and she decided we needed enemas. At first, we were given them with a black tipped red rubber enema syringe that held about a pint of water, and we got maybe two of them each week. When we got older, she used an enema bag.
It was on a Saturday morning when Rose and I got our first enema. Mother was standing at the sink in our upstairs bathroom swishing a bar of soap in a pitcher full of water. I saw the red syringe sitting on the sink ledge, and there was a jar of Vaseline there too. I had no Idea at the time what these things were for. “I want you girls to go get your pajama bottoms off, and come back in here.” mother said.
Rose and I went to our room and undressed as we had been told to. “What do you think’s going on Rose” I said feeling somewhat nervous about the situation we seemed to be in “What was that red bulb thing on the sink?” “I think Moms going to give us enemas,” Rose said. “Carol’s told me about them. Her mom gives them to her.”
“What’s an Enema?” I asked.
“She’s going to fill that red bulb with water, stick it in your bottom, and squeeze it into you. Carol says that It gives you terrible cramps, and MAKES you have to go to the bathroom. You’re not going to like it at all ! Carol says it’s really embarrassing, You have to poop, there’s no way you can hold it in!”
I was really getting scared as I returned to the bathroom. Sure enough, Mother was sitting on the toilet, holding the red bulb. I didn’t approach her at first, I just stood near the door. “Come over here Cathy” she said with a most ominous tone in her voice.
I shyly walked over closer, never taking my eyes off the evil looking red thing. “Come over here Cathy” she said “I need you to lay across my knees.” “But why mom” I stammered nervously.
“I’m going to try something different dear, this is called an enema” she said motioning with the syringe “We’re going to insert this into your bottom and squeeze just a little bit of warm water into you. This will help you go to the bathroom and get you all cleaned out.” “But I don’t want an enema mom, really I don’t!”
“I know you don’t Cathy, I didn’t especially like it when your grandmother gave them to me either but it’s really no big deal and it’ll be over quickly”.
“Is it going to hurt Mom?” I asked.
“No Cathy, you’ll feel just a little fullness after I squeeze the water in, like you have to go to the bathroom right away, but I promise you it won’t hurt one bit.”
I have to admit that I was quite nervous about all this. Having a little thermometer stuck in my bottom was one thing, but this enema looked much larger, and she was actually going to squeeze soapy water inside me! As I lay down across mothers knees, I was fighting back tears, I was really worried. I felt mother pry apart my bottom cheeks, and I tensed up in anticipation of what was going to happen. “I want you to push back like you’re trying to go to the bathroom Cathy, that’ll relax your anus and it’ll slide in easy.
I pushed back like she wanted, and I felt the tip against my hole, and then it slid right into my bottom. I was surprised at how easily it went into me. It didn’t hurt at all, and it was actually quite a pleasurable feeling. I felt this nice warm and tingly feeling inside me as she squeezed the water in, it was like the feeling I got from having my temperature taken, only much more pleasurable.
When she was done emptying the syringe into me, she pulled out the nozzle and made me lie there on my tummy. I began to have strong cramps almost immediately, and was having trouble holding it in. She finally let me up so I could sit on the toilet. I barely was seated when my bowels opened up and the enema began gushing out. It was the biggest movement I had ever had and it felt absolutely wonderful! When I was finally finished and had wiped myself, mom made Rose take the same position and gave her an enema. I watched her spread Rose’s bottom apart and stick the nozzle into her behind. She didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as I did and cried quite a bit through the ordeal. Especially while mother made her lay there and hold it in. It was many years later before I understood that I had gotten sexual feelings from watching mother give Rose that enema.
After that, mother began giving us enemas about twice a week, and by the time I was maybe 12, she started using a bag for our treatments.