“To begin with, it was Mom’s problem. I understand that now. Something twisted in her childhood, and although she was pretty and popular when she was young she was frigid. She met this man, my father, at the university. He was one of those hard and conventional guys, on the make, and she fell for his line, let him get her in trouble, and found herself pregnant, with me. She let him do the so-called `right thing’ and marry her, which was the wrong thing. Anyhow, Harry - that’s his name and I can never think of him as Dad or Father - made a good thing out of his building business, but the marriage didn’t take. Things went from bad to worse, and it all ended up in divorce court. Neither the judge nor Harry thought that Millicent, that’s my mother, was much good for me, but since the courts always give the kids to the mother unless she’s a prostitute or something, I went off to live with my mother. It happened when I was about seven.
“Harry was pretty well off, and Mom didn’t have to work or anything. She was pretty attractive too, at thirty, and although she dated from time to time she was so soured on marriage that she just couldn’t get over the way she hated men. She just hated them. She was very intelligent and had a lot of hobbies, used to take courses and stuff and Harry had been very contemptuous of all that, just as he hated what he called her ‘egghead friends’. All that stuff made their divorce inevitable. Afterwards, Mom and I lived on the coast.
“Then, when I was fifteen, Mom did something to me. She gave me this absolutely fantastic enema. It wasn’t the first time, though, and I guess I better mention the first time before I tell about the time that really was wild. It happened when I was thirteen.
“Mom used to come for me at school and drive me home even though we lived only three blocks away. She was always that way. Mom was always fussing over me, helping me dress and all that in the morning, go with me to kid movies, and buy me stuff. She used to get cross at me and nag a lot too.
“This particular time she scolded me for getting a spot on my new yellow dress, which made me mad so I sat there in the car and pouted. Then she wanted to know if I’d been to the toilet that morning, which also made me kind of mad because she was always fussing over me about that stuff. Usually I told her I had even when I hadn’t because I hate laxatives.
“Then she started in on me.
“Well dear, that doesn’t sound good at all; you must tell me when you don’t go because you don’t want that poison in your system.`
“I feel fine,’ I said.
“Well,’ she said, ‘I think I had better give you a good cleaning out.’
“I thought she meant a laxative and told her I didn’t want to take any of that old stuff, but what she had in mind was much worse.
“No,’ she said, `as soon as we get home I’m going to give you a good enema.’
“Oh, no, Mother,I cried. I just about died.Please don’t give me an enema. I hate enemas.’
“`How do you know if you have never had one?’
“I just know it,’ I said, so mad I was starting to cry. `I don’t want anybody sticking anything up my rear end.’
“I just felt sick I was so mad and scared. And I think the worst part of it was the idea of having to get undressed in front of Mom because even though she used to help me get dressed and stuff this seemed different. It was awfully indecent.
“But I couldn’t talk her out of it, so we just drove along and she started asking me what I’d done in school and all that crap. I was sitting there with my legs crossed, like I usually do, and my dress rode up on my thighs.
“Mom said, `Pull your dress down, dear,’ which I thought was really dumb, and I wondered why it was unladylike to expose a little of my legs when in a few minutes she was going to be staring at my bare bottom and shoving a rubber hose up me. The whole thing was really stupid.
“When we got out of the car, I slid out of my seat very carefully with my legs pressed together and holding my dress down, and I walked up the driveway with Mom with my shoulders very straight. But I felt awful. Mrs. H. was across the street fooling around in her yard and waved at Mom. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she had called out, `I see you’re going to give Patty an enema.’ I felt like everybody knew.
“Mom made me go right into the bathroom when we got home. She was right behind me. She had the darned thing all fixed. I just stared at it in horror. It looked awful. There was this rubber bag just bursting with water hanging on the hook on the bathroom door, and this dangling and coiled down and then back up into the top. I gave me goose pimples. I was shivering all over. Suddenly I got this real funny tingly feeling. I only remember having it once before, and that was when I was real little and a boy and me were fooling around and took our clothes off. That’s all we did, but I remember how exciting it was just taking our clothes off and how funny it felt to be bare.
“Mom took the tube in her fingers. I stared at it. It looked like it was as thick as a fire hose. I think it was one of those tubes they use for colonic irrigations. I really felt scared. Also, she had a funny look in her face and her voice was sort of strained and choked like.
“`Bend over,’ she told me. “Turn around and bend over.’ Her voice sounded funny. My stomach was churning and I felt like I did when I was at the dentist’s, sort of curious and scared at once. Then she pulled up my dress. That really felt funny. It just sent goose pimples all over me, and after that she pulled down my panties. My bottom felt so bare and I felt exposed and real weak. Then this thing jabbed in me. It hurt like mad.
“‘Ow, Mommy, it hurts. Ow-ow-ow-ow!’ I pleaded. But she kept shoving it up me. I felt like my rear end was just splitting apart. She told me to spread my legs and bend way down. She was sort of cross, too. `Keep still and bend down! Bend way down she kept telling me.
“I was crying. `Mummy! Mummy! Please stop, It hurts! It Hurts!’
“But Mom said, `Just stop carrying on. Spread your legs apart and bend down—way down.’
“Ooooh, Mummy! Please don't push it in any more,' I cried.It hurts so much.’
“The water was spurting up me and giving me cramps and I was sobbing. I felt so humiliated. It was awful. But she kept pushing it in me. By the time she had finished shoving that big long tube up my backside the enema bag was drained dry, and I really had to go.
“Mom acted very funny after that. She had this glazed look in her eyes all the time she was giving me the enema, and when it was over she started to cry. She pulled the tube out and let me go, and then, after I’d gotten rid of most of it, she made me put on my pajamas and put me to bed even though it was only about three in the afternoon. She smothered me with kisses and told me she was sorry she’d hurt me and that she’d never do it again. I didn’t understand then. But I do now. That enema was so awful that I just made myself forget it until she gave me that other one when I was fifteen.
“How that happened was like this. Halfway through algebra, which was my last class, one day, I started to feel warm and queasy, and just before the bell rang I got this dull ache and started to feel sick to my stomach.
“I can’t be getting the curse, I told myself, because that was last week. I closed my eyes and shook my head, then sat up straight and tried to look bright and alert. Miss T____ , the math teacher, was explaining sets, but I just couldn’t concentrate. I kept looking down at my watch, hoping for the bell to ring and, finally, it did.
“`Are you all right ?’ Miss T____ asked me, because I was looking sort of pale, I guess.
“`Oh sure,’ I said, and headed for the door. I felt faint and sick to my stomach, and this woozy kind of heat.. I wasn’t used to being sick. I hardly ever get sick. It was just awful getting out through the hall with the kids milling around and everything, but I got downstairs, finally, and out, and finally found our powder-blue Dodge.
“Whatever is the matter?' Mom asked.Your face is so flushed.’ And she put her hand on my forehead and clucked like mothers do and said, `You’re just burning up,’ and then ask me if I was sick to my stomach and I said I was, sort of, and that I didn’t know what was the matter with me.
“As soon as we got home I fled into the house and just got to the bathroom in time. I vomited like anything. Mom held my head and said, “There, there,’ and all that.
“I don't know what's wrong with me.' I said.It just came over me all at once. I got hot, sick to my stomach. Ohhhh, can I please sit down?’
“Mom helped me to the sofa, sat beside me, and felt my forehead. `Oh dear, you’re just burning up,’ she said.
“Then she went into the bathroom and came back with the thermometer and stabbed it into my mouth. I just lay back with my eyes closed. I was so miserable. Mom looked at the thermometer and shook her head. You're running a fever of one hundred and two, young lady,' she said,Now, what’s all this about?’
“`I just want to lie down,’ I said.
“`Of course, but I’m going to call the doctor.’
“She did, although I was scared he’d make me go to the hospital or something and begged her not to. I couldn’t hear much of what Mom said to him except, `Yes, well, I can do that,’ and the doctor said a little more and hung up.
“Mom had this funny look on her face, a funny little smile, when she came back. She put her arm around me, , then said, Patty,' looking at me right in the face,the doctor says there’s a lot of Asian flu going around that a lot of young people are getting, and that that’s what you have.’
“`Do I have to go to the hospital?’
“`No, dear, but he told me to give you an enema….’
“`Oh no, please!’
“Now, darling,' Mom said,It’s for your own good. It’ll bring that fever down, and after that you’re to drink plenty of liquids, and I’m going to keep you in bed until the fever is gone.’
“`Couldn’t I just drink lots of liquids?’ I asked.
“`I think we’d better do what the doctor says,’ Mom said.’
“`But I don’t want to take an enema. It makes me sick.’
“`Well, I know it’s embarrassing, dear….’
“`It isn’t just embarrassing. It hurts.’
“`It will. It hurt the last time.’ I started to cry.
“It won't,' she promised.I’m very sorry about that other time, but it won’t happen again.’
“`Couldn’t I give it to myself?’ I begged.
“`No. you’d better let me.’
“I didn’t like the idea of getting undressed in front of Mom apart from everything else. But Mom was stubborn.
“`No, I think you’d better let me.’ Then she took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. She took the syringe and the tube out of the closet, and scared and sick as I was, I got this funny titillating sensation up and down my spine. Without realizing I was doing it, I sort of gathered my skirt up above my knees as I watched Mom get it ready.
“`Pull up your dress,’ Mom said.
“Without looking at her–and, anyway, her back was to me while she was getting the gadget ready–I started pulling up my dress real slow. Mom’s always telling me stuff like pull your dress down, don’t cross your knees, and all that. And now she was telling me to get undressed and let her see my bare bottom. It was dreadfully immodest and I just couldn’t see why Mom got so perturbed over my showing a little of my upper leg and was so matter-of- fact about my showing my whole rear end and doing something so indecent.
“`Couldn’t I just take it myself,” I said again, in this small quavering voice.
“`No, get undressed , dear,’ Mom said. Then she turned to me, holding the enema bag in one hand and the tube in the other.
“`I don’t have to strip or anything, do I?’ I pleaded, trying to delay the whole darned thing.
“No no,' said Mom, getting a little impatient.Just pull your dress up and take your panties down.’ Then she laid the bag down in the basin and picked up the tube and started smearing Vaseline on it.
“I was trembling all over. I raised my skirt up in back, but left it so that it would still fall in front of me, Then I dropped my panties and let them slide down my legs to my ankles. There was the long mirror on the bathroom door. I saw myself in it, my tanned knees and upper legs, the sweep of my skirt over my thighs, my pink blouse, and my face, I looked so tense.
“`All right, Patty, I guess we’re ready,’ Mom said. I stiffened and felt very disconcerted about being undressed before Mom, and I didn’t want to have to turn around and show her my bare bottom.
“`Turn around and bend over,’ Mom ordered.
“My throat was really dry and my stomach was churning. Also I was blushing like fury. But I turned my back to Mom and bent down and leaned my right arm against the porcelain top of the toilet for support, stepped out of my panties, and straddled the bowl. I could feel myself blushing all over. Then I glanced at the mirror and saw my own naked round bottom and how creamy white it was and I was fascinated. . I felt a little anxious, too, as I stared at the tube Mom held between her thumb and forefinger. ‘I started studying my own backside; how dark the crack was between my cheeks an how round my cheeks were. I guess that’s what you have to bend over for when you get and enema. I felt really exposed and awfully embarrassed.
“Then Mom was there, peering at the crack between my buttocks and I saw and felt her left thumb and forefinger pry my rump open and insert the tube into me. I saw it go in in the mirror and I felt it plug in like I was a bottle being corked. I really liked it.
“`That doesn’t hurt does it, dear?’ Mom asked.
“`No Mom.’
“Then Mom rested the coiled tube in her hand on the small of my back and slid it straight in me until her fingers vanished between my cheeks. The sensation was terrific and I just about fainted. I could feel the tube slither right in, smooth and slippery, like a very long finger, and it didn’t hurt one bit. It was good. It was the most delicious sensation I ever remembered. I just loved it. Suddenly I felt real affectionate toward Mom because she was doing something to me that was so nice. Then Mom reached back again, to the point where the colon tube joined the regular hose, and slid it in all the way again until her thumb and forefinger disappeared between my cheeks. The sensation was wild. I felt the tube just glide free. It was tremendous. I could see my face in the mirror and how funny the expression was and that my lips were parted. I couldn’t keep from moaning, it felt so good. My vagina was pulsating and felt damp, and my bottom quivered and I felt faint. I just felt wonderful. I caught my breath and held it, while mom ran some more of the tube up me, and I exhaled in a sigh. Mom was so good to do it to me. I just loved her for it.
“I guess you can kneel down now,' Mom said. "That doesn't hurt, does it?
“`No, it feels awfully good.’
“`Oh, wonderful,’ Mom whispered.
“I dropped to my knees and quickly leaned forward with my head on the floor. I cradled my head in my arms. I was just about beside myself because the tube felt so good and because of the nakedness of my rump. I could hear the water gurgle in the tube, but a moment or two passed before I felt it spurt in. The tube was up so far that I could feel the water only as a dull ache.
“`I’m going to give you a high enema,’ Mom whispered.
“I didn’t answer, but I was enjoying it immensely. The tube felt good and I wished it could just stay in there. The water was giving me cramps, but I didn’t care.
“`Can you take any more?’ she asked.
“`Yes, I’m all right,’ I answered.
“`Your being very sweet. I know this is awful for you.’
“It's all right,' I said.I like it’.
“`That’s good.’ she answered.
“The bag emptied and Mom clamped the tube shut. There now,' she said in a soothing voice.That’s all done.’
“I had to sit on the toilet quite a while after that, and make quite a few trips. But I really liked it. It wasn’t like the other time.
“Later, Mom gave me a dose of milk of magnesia and the next morning asked me if it had worked.
“It had, actually, but I lied and said it hadn’t. Then I murmured in this shy voice, `Maybe I need another enema.’
“`All right. Swell,’ Mom said, and patted me on the bottom.
“I slipped out of bed and padded down the hall. I found Mom waiting for me with the bulging bag in one hand and the tip of the tube in the other. She didn’t have to tell e to undress this time. In fact, I asked her if I could strip naked. She laughed and said that would be fine, so I took off my pajamas and then spread my legs apart real wide and bent way down.
“Hurry, Mom,' I begged,push it in.’
“When I looked back I saw that it wasn’t the regular colon tube, but a very thick, long one; one of those tubes they use for colonic irrigations, I think. I don’t know where Mom had gotten it, I was just wild. It was as thick as a boys prick, but three feet long, I swear.
“She began working it into me. It hurt. I felt like I was just splitting apart, but it was also wonderful. I just loved it. The pressure of it was terrific. She turned the water on so it started spurting in, and then, while I was being flooded, she started showing the tube in.
“`Ooooh, Mom. It feels good, ooooooh!’
“I just couldn’t help moaning, I loved it so much. She just kept pushing it in and in and in. I could hardly stand it, it felt so good. I could feel it going up in my insides, way up, just like it was going to go through my stomach. I know it went right through my rectum and up into my bowels. I could feel it all the way; the sensation was terrific. That’s when I came for the first time in my life. Mom had me lie down on the floor with my legs apart and, with that thick tube all the way up my rear end, she ran a douche nozzle into me, into my vagina, and squeezed, and when she did that, an enema and douche both at the same time, I just exploded. ‘Ohhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooh! OOOOOOOOOOH!’ I just moaned over and over again. It was the most wonderful sensation. I can’t describe it.
“I was really worn out after that episode, and Mom made me lie down. Then she came in and sat by my bed and we talked. She told me that she loved me a lot and that she was glad I’d liked what she’d done to me, and that if I wanted her to do it again, I was just to tell her. She said it was better for me to let her do that to me than to do things with boys because men are such beasts and they make nothing but trouble.”
Case Notes
Patricia’s case is an unusual one, but, by no means rare. More than one mother has deliberately seduced her own child, male or female, and caused the latter to become a deviate. Patricia’s case illustrated the situation in which anal eroticism is combined with incest, and in which that frequently abused remedy, the enema, is used as an erotic device. Millicent’s unfortunate marriage, her own frigidity, and her consequent hatred of men were the basic cause. Patricia herself did not necessarily have anal erotic tendencies to begin with. The first experience, when she was thirteen, was traumatic. It left a lasting impression on her, as would be inevitable. The second, a highly erotic experience, one which she finally entered into herself, was a sort of seduction, made possible for the mother by the girl’s illness.
More research is needed on the influence which enemas have on children and how they frequently stimulate anal erotic tendencies later. Indeed, nursing training programs that cognizance this fact. and student nurses are cautioned concerning the consequences of enemas, especially in view of the fact that such a large portion of the population, as Kinsey notes, is sensitive in the anal region.
But in Patricia’s case the mother fixation is a more important factor than the enema. The girl was assaulted by the enemas, but she could have been assaulted in other ways, and the effect would have been somewhat the same. Caprio’s study, “Female Homosexuality”, notes several cases in which women submitted to being given enemas by another woman for erotic reasons, Even Havelock Ellis records the case of a woman who recalled pleasure while being given an enema as her earliest sexual experience. She feigned constipation in order to have it repeated. Part of the enjoyment was unquestionably the enema itself, but another, equally important aspect, was probably the fact that it was given to by her mother and was therefore an assault.
The person most disturbed in Patricia’s case was her mother. Her unhappy marriage, sexual frustration, and the unwholesome focusing on her child as a love object contributed. It is doubtful that the mother was consciously aware of her own motivations, at least at first. When she gave Patricia the first enema, when the girl was thirteen. she was probably being over solicitous about the child’s health and convinced herself that this was her real reason for doing it.
As the little girl herself noticed at the time, however, her mother got something more from the operation and was unquestionably enjoying introducing the tube into her. It was a substitute penis. She herself realized that she had attacked the girl sexually afterwards and was sufficiently horrified with herself to be deterred from repeating the act until the second occasion two years later.
At this time, with Patricia well into puberty, the enema was a pleasurable experience, obviously and entirely sexual, which both mother and daughter enjoyed. The fact that her mother, who seems to have been somewhat reserved with her affection, lavished considerable solicitude on Patricia while giving her the enema made it an act of love. Patricia responded by feeling great affection for her mother, gratitude for the pleasure which the enema gave her, and, in particular, relief that the experience was not painful like the first one but entirely acceptable. Because of her mother’s accepting attitude the girl did not feel humiliated and quickly overcame her embarrassment.
After experiencing orgasm during the administering of the enema the girl regarded it an entirely erotic adventure and one which she wanted to repeat. Her mother now became her lover, and an unwholesome lesbian incestuous relationship sprang up between them in which the mother became the “butch” partner. Such tendencies were unquestionably latent and were a probable contributing factor to her early frigidity and to the failure of her marriage. The homosexual aspect of the relationship must also have been latent and was no doubt triggered by the first enema which she gave Patricia.
Cases of children enjoying enemas are common, although not many have actually been recorded, and there are at least a few in the literature in which mother have confessed to erotic enjoyment when giving enemas. One such is mentioned in a study entitled “Set the Children Free, a work written during the thirties. A mother showed solicitude and affection to her young daughter only on the rare occasions when she took her to the bathroom, stripped her naked, bathed her in the bathtub, and gave her an enema. In this instance, the mother was probably only vaguely aware of the sexual implications of her behavior, if, indeed she was aware of them at all. Unquestionably, however, the child associated affection with enemas and willingly submitted to the latter in order to have the former.
Patricia’s case is unusual in the frankness of the sexuality and the fact that during and after the second enema both mother and daughter openly accepted it as a sexual experience, a bizarre form of sexual intercourse, This is indicated very clearly in Patricia’s further remarks concerning the incestuous anal erotic relationship which now developed between her and her mother.