Author:
Danny
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Date Posted: Sunday, March 02, 2025, 09:42: pm
I can identify with some of these posts though my experience was a bit different. For me and my sister Caroline,it was not unusual for our little butts to have frequent encounters with Mommas rubber syringe right up to the age of four.
Beyond that age the enemas seemed to fade out in favour of supositories and various laxatives.
I was far more regular in later years so it didnt concern me
much except for one incident shortly after I turned 9.
I was laid up in bed recovering from several minor injuries
after accident on my bike, when I got horribly backed up
(partly due to the anti-biotics and maybe my own laziness in failing to "g0" when I should have)
Thinking back to my poty days how Mommas enema bulb had always given me such instant and perfect relief I became convinced that was the only thing that could really help me.
Momma was of a different opinion however and wanted to dose me with her favorite mixture of castor oil and prune juice
(which I detested)
When I argued that only a dose of warm soapy suds in my butt
would do the trick, she protested it was out of date and too
messy.
I then tried a bit of flattery saying what a good enema giver she had been and how much I appreciated her tlc when I was little. She just smiled and tried to stall again I was "too big for that now" and besides she could remeber where her bulb had been stashed away.
When I remained resolute and continued to argue in favour of the enema, she finally gave in and said she would try and borrow a bulb from a friend down the street.
My sister seemed highly amused by the whole thing calling me "Desperate Dan, the enema man!" I didn't let her teasing get to me however my main concern was that I would soon be getting the treatment I needed.
When Momma returned with the borrowed bulb Caroline offered to help (with a big smirk on her face) but thankfully Momma
declined and I was glad of that.
Momma declined to put me over her knee, saying I should just bend over the bathtub with my hands on the edge, head down bottom up and legs spread wide.
Just hearing that gurgling sound as she filled the bulb, feeling her spread mmy cheeks & lubing me, her soft voice telling me to relax as the nozzle went in and then the sudden powerful surge of the first dose of suds, all evoked a kinda wistful nostalgia for those early days.
I cant recall the no of insertions,but I took quite a lot.
When she checked the results she appologised for having stalled saying she didn't realize just how bad my problem was. She then promised to buy a new larger bulb for me the
very next day, saying that in future she would give me enemas whenever I needed them!
She enemaed me again twice more before I returned to school
and I really felt great.
News travels fast in a small comunity and needless to say I had to cope with some teasing in the playground.
No problem, I just confronted them "head on" clenched my fists looked em straight in the eyes and said "OK - so Momma gave me a great big enema cause I was sick and really needed it! Soooo...WHAT YA WANNA DO ABOUT IT? HUH?"
Except for a few giggles from the girls,there was a stunned silence and my tormentors just melted away and never mentioned the subject again.
As for Caroline it seems I had the last laugh. A few years later her periods began and Momma put that big bulb to good use. It was then my turn to smirk when I heard some familiar bubbly sounds coming from the bathroom along with her grunting & groaning on the toilet!!
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