enema | Family Enema Tradition

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Family Enema Tradition

Author: Peter E.

We lived on a farm way out in the country where there were not too many visitors and, because our house was set well back from the seldom-traveled road, we had had a lot of privacy.

I can remember, when we were preschool and even in the pre-teens, on hot summer days, instead of bathing in the hot bathroom, my two sisters and I would wash up outside, soaping ourselves and then using the garden hose to rinse.

We didn't feel to self conscious about our bodies because we had seen each other nude so often, it really didn't seem unusual. However, we didn't talk about this with our friends because they would always joke about seeing their brothers or sisters bathing. We thought they were the unusual ones.

We respected each other's privacy as we got older, but even occasionally when I was in late high school and my sisters would come home from college, we would go skinny dipping in the river which ran through our property.

One thing about our parents, they treated us equally. When one person got sick, it seemed that all were considered to be sick and got some sort of medicine.

This even happened when we got enemas. If anyone was sick or couldn't go to the bathroom, we all got enemas.

We would go into the kitchen to undress during the winter or we would do this outside during the summer when it was warm. Mom always said there was no reason to hide in the house when there was so much wide open space and it was also cooler outdoors.

When we were very young, we got enemas with the bulb syringe, but as we got older, we'd receive them from the enema bag which was hung from the towel rack in the kitchen or from the clothesline outside. We'd all undress and wait our turn, watching as the other got his or her enema.

My older sister, Jane, confided one time that she sometimes faked being sick so she would get an enema. I told her that I fantasized about giving her an enema. We both laughed about that, looking forward to that day.

And I think our parents, especially mom, enjoyed administering the enemas to our developing bodies.

The last time we got a group enema was during the previous Christmas holiday. My sisters were both home from college. The oldest, age 22, said she was getting a stomach ache and it wasn't from any "woman" problem.

"When's the last time you went to the bathroom," mom asked.

"I think it was three days ago," she said.

"I think you need an enema," she said. "Don't you?"

Sis agreed, asking if she should go into the bathroom.

"You're not that old yet, young lady," mom said. "In fact, as long as we're all here, I think this would be a good time for all of you to get an enema, don't you?"

We sort of disagreed, but didn't really disagree as mom went to the bathroom to retrieve the enema syringe and bag. She then mixed up a sink full of warm water, mixed in a small amount of Ivory soap flakes and said, "Okay, girls, young man, time to undress."

"Right here?" we protested, half-heartedly, trying to sound like we didn't want to, but yet didn't want to miss out on this family ritual. We all sort of stood around the kitchen table and took off our, shoes, socks, shirts and slacks, getting down quickly to our underwear, then just stood there.

"Oh, just throw your clothes in the basket there and I'll wash them when we're all done," mom said. "That includes the underwear."

We obediently doffed our underwear, the girls also slipping out of their bras. Jane had fully developed into woman with full breasted the dipped just a little, but still showed her full youthful beauty. Sue, 20, had maintained her "twin peaks" through daily workouts in the gym and playing junior varsity basketball in college.

"Okay Jane, you're the one who couldn't go, you're first," she pointed to my older sister who obediently took a kneeling position on a kitchen chair and leaned over the table, stretching out just a bit with her breasts just touching the table, causing her nipples to harden. Mom spread her cheeks, spread a liberal amount of petroleum jelly and then inserted the syringe before lifting it about a foot or two above my sister's butt.

As the water began to flow, I could see that my sister was enjoying it, although she fainted a bit of discomfort, but kept moving her body on the kitchen table. Mom stopped the flow a couple times, but finally emptied the entire 48 ounces of fluid into her offspring. Jane climbed off the chair and walked cautiously to the bathroom which was just next to the kitchen.

With that, Sue took her turn. She wanted her enema standing up, bending over at the waist to allow mom to make the preparations, jumping just a bit when mom's finger slipped into her butt hole while applying the jelly.

With the nozzle inserted, mom opened the clasp and the liquid flowed for the second time. Sue liked to take her enemas standing up because this gave her a change to move he legs a bit if cramps began to come. She would always do a little dance, sort of on her tiptoes. She had started doing this when she was about 12 or 13. She said it made her relax, but I think this helped her enjoy the enema as it flowed into her body.

The liquid flowed into her quite easily and she accepted all the water in just a couple minutes. Mom said the hold it for a while, then told her to use the downstairs bathroom because Jane was not yet done. This left only me. Mom loaded the bag again, telling me to take "the position I wanted." I preferred to simply bend over, putting my hands on my knees.

With that the jelly was applied and the hose inserted, causing a warm sensation through my body and causing my penis to become erect. My sisters always took notice of this when they had their enemas, but never said anything, believing any comments like this would end our common enema sessions which we all seemed to enjoy. I was not overly endowed, but it was enough to feel good when I brushed against the cold edge of the kitchen table.

Just as I was finished taking the last of the water, my sister came out of the bathroom, allowing me to use this room. I walked by her and she reached out, grabbing my extended appendage as mom's back was turned. This also began the second, and sometimes a third round of enemas, these to rinse. Once we produced a clean flow of water it meant we were cleaned out.

After we were pronounced clean, we would shower and get into fresh clothes. My sisters said they would continue this ritual if they had families and asked if I would do the same. I probably would.

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