Author:
Trisha
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Date Posted: Saturday, March 15, 2025, 10:38: pm
As a child in England (late '60s) my own experience was similar to Danny, but with a different outcome.
So far as I could recall I had never needed or received an enema before age 10 (when my problem began) Like Danny I had
recovered from an illness (during which I had been lazy about the toilet)
First day back at school,I wasn't too worried when I couldn't "go" but when things got worse next day I was scared and embarrassed Mummy would scold me. I didn't like laxatives because they usually took too long to work with me (and also at an inconvenient moment).
Of course I knew what an enema was (I also knew Mummy possesed a Higginson syringe or "enema pump" as she called it) I knew she had used it on my late Granpa and I had seen her use it on my little cousin Johnny the previous year when he stayed with us.
I reasoned that if a 5 year old boy could take half a pint of warm soap suds up his bum without crying,then enemas couldn't really be so bad and maybe I could secretly give my self one when Mommy wasn't about & no one would be any the
wiser.
Our last lesson for the day was cancelled, so I arrived home almost an hour earlier than usual and naturally assumed that Mummy was still at work. I knew where the key was hidden so access was no problem.
What I didn't know of course was that Mummy had also got off
work early and at that moment she was visting a friend a few houses down the street!
My first thought was to find that pump (trying to remember where I had last seen it) I finally found it coiled up like a little red snake on the top shelf of the linen cupboard.
Feeling both fearful and excited I wasted no time undressing till I was wearing nothing but a T shirt.
I then prepared some warm suds in a jug. I was a little worried about getting the nozzle up my bum, however with a few drops of baby oil it slipped in easily. It felt very smooth and comfortable inside me and fitted snugly being specially shaped so my muscles could grip it firmly with no fear of it slipping out and making a mess.
With a trembling hand and a racing heart I slowly squeezed the bulb.
At first only a little air entered my rectum, so I squeezed again and this time I felt the warm flow of the suds (which actually felt quite soothing) I felt more confident and pumped the bulb again, thinking my troubles would soon be over.
My confidence was soon shaken however when I heard voices in the passageway. Thinking I would be alone in the house for the next few hours I hadn't even bothered to lock the bathroom door or even close it!
The cringeworthy result was that Mummy & this other lady walked straight in !!
So there I was literally "caught with my pants down", the hose firmly wedged up my bum, the bulb in one hand and the jug of foamy suds in the other (and little me standing there like a frozen statue, wishing I was anywhere else in this world except in that room!!!)
Mummy's reaction was to be expected "Patricia!! What on earth...are you constipated?? Why didn't you tell me?..etc
etc................
I could only hang my head, blush and make a full confession.
Once I had done so she calmed down and asked how much enema I had taken. When I told her she said that wouldn't be enough and the best thing now was for me to keep the hose in
bend over with my hands on my knees and she would "finish me off". (which was ok with me, at least I didn't have to look them in the face)
Mummy pumped slowly and expertly and soon my enema was travelling smoothly and deeply inside me and really loosening me up. Nevertheless, because it was my very first one my bowels responded quickly and I suddenly felt an urge to expel like never before!
Mummy got me on the toilet in time and a lot of the stoppage came out (but not all), so that when she asked if I needed more enema, I blurted out "YES PLEASE !"
She told me to remain seated, but move a bit forward on the seat. She then wiped me lubed my bum well, re-inseted the nozzle and began to syringe me again.
The presence of her friend was somewhat embarrassing to say the least (to make matters worse her daughter attended the same school, though not in my class). The whole scenario seemed almost surreal, sitting there listening to them talking quite casually about enemas while I was getting one!!
Later Mummy said I should never "take the law into my own hands" but that she would give me enemas in future if I asked for them.
As for teasing at school, fortunatly that never happened,
(except for a few funny looks, whispers and giggles) there
were no boys around and in anycase they soon found something else to gossip about.
When I confided the incident to two of my closest friends they were both sympathetic and amused. The thought I was very brave to have tried it on my own and declared that they never could! I felt a lot better for hearing that.
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