Fire Truck Enema

I decided to write about my earliest enema experiences, now that I look back I was very fortunate to have a number of interesting experiences. Being a child in the late 40’s and early 50’s I was much more likely to be given an enema(s) than a child born after 1970. By then Dr. Spock no longer suggested enemas be given for routine childhood ailments.

I’ll start at the beginning, the first enema I can remember receiving, and then tell you about the more memorable enemas I have given or taken trough the years.

I’m not sure just how old I was when this happened, except to say that it was before I started grade school.

I lived in a neighborhood in Eastern Massachusetts where I was the only boy, my playmates were two girls, Janet, who was a year or so older and Donna, about a year younger. Our play often included going to the bathroom outside. I was always a willing participant. Janet usually started things, and often Donna and I would watch her “pooh,” as she called it.

One summer day Janet and I both didn’t feel well, so we decided to go to our homes and tell our mothers. I don’t remember just how I felt, but I do remember I told my mother’ “I feel like I have to go, but I can’t.” I told her Janet had felt the same way, and Janet’s mother called mine on the phone at about the same time.

Our mothers decided we were constipated, that we had held back too long, and that we both needed an enema. My mother told me that she was going to give me an enema, and that Janet was going to have to have one, too. I knew what an enema was, so I must have had them before this, but this one is the first one I remember being given.

My mom had a glass pitcher full of warm water that she was swirling a bar of Ivory Soap in, when she called me into the bathroom. She had me undress, and lie face down on a towel. She used a funnel and a rubber rectal tube, something I have read about in several child care books, but have never heard anyone else mention in talking about their childhood enemas. I remember that she inserted the tube, and poured some water into the funnel, which she held at the tube’s length above me. She let that run in, and then pushed the tube a little further into me. She filled the funnel several times, then asked me how I felt, could I take any more. I said I was okay at first, but I started to feel full and crampy and I told her so.

Once I said I was feeling full she stopped, but she would wait a while and fill the funnel again. Not until I really felt like I couldn’t hold any more, and started to complain loudly did she stop. She reached down and pulled out the tube, which dripped all over my buttocks. She wiped me dry, but told me to lie there as long as I could…. which wasn’t very long. When she let me stand up she still didn’t let me sit on the toilet, and when I started crying because I had to go so bad, then she let me sit down.

I squirted like crazy as I started to expel, but then I stopped, I just didn’t seem to have to go anymore. I got up, and when we looked to see what I had done, it saw just soapy water.

Mom said she would give me another enema in a little while, and as she started to prepare more solution I got the urge to go again, and this time it all came out, lots of water, big chunks, and gas. I didn’t understand why, but I thought it felt great.

When she was sure that I was finished she let me up, but told me to stay close to the bathroom. I thought she meant I might have to go some more, but she said no, as she had used soap for my enema she would give me another to rinse me out. I wasn’t sure I wanted another one, but as she was getting it ready I started to think about how much I liked it.

This enema was warmer than the first, but clear water. I only took a small amount before I couldn’t take any more, and she let me go again. Brown water and a few small chunks came out. She told he she hadn’t waited long enough before giving me the second enema, and this time she had me lay on the coach for a few minutes before calling me back to the bathroom.

I had no trouble holding the third enema. She told me I was a good boy, because I had taken a lot of water. Again I sat on the toilet, loving the feeling of expelling, but deciding it was not as good when it was mostly clear water. I had to stay in for the rest of the day, but it was late and I didn’t mind too much. I got another surprise, though, because when it was time for me to go to bed she called me into the bathroom and gave me one more clear water enema.

Again I got praise for taking a lot, and holding for as long as she wanted me to. Again it was mostly clear water that came out, but I decided by then that I liked the way an enema felt, both going in and out.

The next day when I went out to play with Janet she asked me what had happened to me. I told her my mom gave me an enema, and she said hers did, too. I told her that it felt good, and she said she liked the way they felt, too, and that she had gotten them several times.

After that we incorporated enemas into our play, often sneaking away from the house and taking off out pants and pretending. Since we didn’t have any equipment we would stick fingers in each other rectums, and we found if we moved the around enough we could sometimes make each other “pooh.”

We got Donna involved as well, although she couldn’t remember every having an enema.

I figured out that if my mom didn’t see me go for a day or two, and if I said I felt like I couldn’t go, I could get her to give me an enema. This worked out pretty good, since I was often going outside where Janet and Donna could watch, and Janet was doing the same. We could get Donna to do it once in a while, but she was a little more reluctant. Janet had also gotten her mother to give her enemas, and more than once we got them at the same time, after our mothers had talked on the phone, and we both got lectures about not going when we needed to.

Once, when Janet’s mother was across the street visiting mine Janet took me into her bathroom and showed me what her mother used to give her enemas. It was a big red rubber bag. Janet showed me several nozzles that went with it. We thought the big nozzle was for grown up enemas, it wasn’t for many years that I found out it was for douching. Janet told me her mother had used the small nozzle for her at first, but now used the bigger nozzle. We would have loved to play more, but put it quickly away, so we wouldn’t get caught.

Janet had a younger brother, Gary, but he was never included in our play. But Gary got a birthday present that was. He was given a cast metal fire truck. It was a big beautiful toy. With the fire truck came a hydrant that could be hooked to a garden hose. The hydrant had a hose about 3 feet long and a cast metal nozzle. When Janet and I saw this we knew we had to have it!

It didn’t take long before we borrowed the hose and hydrant, Gary had received several toys for his Birthday, and when he lost interest we were there to play with it in out own way.

There was a couple in the neighborhood who both worked, they had a fenced in back yard, and a garden hose that hung an a reel in the sun.

The first time we got our chance, Janet, Donna and I, made our way to the neighbors yard. Janet was the leader, I was ready to try it, and Donna was very reluctant.

Since Janet was the oldest she decided she would go first. I hooked up the hydrant while Janet took off her pants. Donna just watched, not saying a word. When I turned on the water I was surprised at how warm it was. Janet tested it, said it felt just right. I knew Janet had been given enemas bending over, and that’s just what she did, pointing her butt at me. We had lubricated our fingers with spit when we had done our play enemas, so I did it to her before I put in the hose.

The nozzle slid in easily, and I turned on the hose real slow. Janet said she could feel it, and how good it felt. I must have had to water turned on very slow, because it seemed like forever before Janet asked me to turn it off.

The moment I pulled out the nozzle Janet stated to squirt. She stayed in the knee-chest position so we could watch it come out. Janet must have really had to go, because a lot of big chunks came out. I was as close as I dared get, without getting pooped on. Donna stood back and watched, not saying a thing.

As soon as Janet was done, it was my turn, and like Janet, I had my pants off, and was ready. Janet spit lubricated me, pushed in the nozzle, and filled me up. The warm water going in felt great, and I loved doing it while Janet and Donna watched. Janet must have turned the water on harder than I did, because I was very full very quick, and was squirting before she could get the nozzle back out.

Janet was watching me as close as I watched her, and she was encouraging Donna to get closer.

I was done all too soon, but we decided it was Donna’s turn. Donna was very reluctant, usually when she went outside she only pee’d, but she liked to watch us “pooh.” Donna soon realized that Janet was not going to let her get away without having an enema. Donna never had one, and was very curious, so soon her pants were off and she was in the knee-chest position. She wanted Janet to do everything, so I just watched… this time.

Donna was making grunting sounds as the nozzle went in, and took quite a bit of water before she had to go. Janet decided that Donna should hold it for a while, and put her finger in Donnas anus. Donna really seemed to like this, but was starting to squirt around Janet’s finger after a short while. Donna then squatted and expelled her enema while Janet and I watched.

This went on for two summers before Donna moved away, then one more year before we moved to another town. We probably gave each other enemas once a week, from the spring, as soon as the neighbor hung out his hose, until he put it away in the fall. I can’t believe we never got caught. I do remember the neighbor tell my Dad that there was a real messy dog that was shitting all over his back yard.

Janet and I even got to use her mother’s bag a couple of time, when we were left home while her Mom went shopping. We had a lot of anal play as well, Donna, being younger and smaller was able to get her entire hand in both of our rectums. I never got my whole hand into Janet, but often put in 3 or 4 fingers.

Both Janet and I had our mothers give us enemas on a day when we had just given them to each other. Our mothers had decided we must be constipated, we both had come home quite flushed and sweaty, and neither mother could remember us going for several days (we hadn’t at home)! We both got several enemas that came back almost clear, so we got more enemas the next day. Our mothers didn’t know it, but we were in enema heaven! As a result of this we were taken to the Doctors, together.

The doctor didn’t find anything wrong, but Janet and I were scared he would know what we had been doing. The doctor decided to have us x-rayed, so we wound up getting more enemas, before getting a barium enema. We both liked this because of all the attention we got, and the way the barium felt when it was inside us. We talked about how much solution we got, it seemed to both of us it was more then we had even been given at home. We had probably taken as much with the “hydrant” attachment, but never held it as long in order to have the x-rays. I didn’t get a good look at the nozzle, but the nurse told us it would help us hold the enema, so I assume it was a inflatable nozzle.

The only thing that the Doctor found was that we both seemed to have very large colons, but other than that we were very healthy. We wished we could have been in the x-ray room together, but of course it gave us a lot to talk about when we got home.

Once I moved away I never saw Janet again, but I did find out that she married a Doctor, an Internist! I wonder.

In my new home I was able to give myself a lot of solo enemas, but I didn’t get to give anybody else until I was 12. I had a friend that had a sister who was 11.

If you want to know about her read “My Friend Marion.”

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