The day after I arrived, she called me into the bath after I woke up and said that before breakfast, she wanted to "help" me start on a good cleaning regimen. Being a much older lady, German and my Gram, I didn't protest, but then again, I didn't totally know what she had in mind.

When I went into the bath, she had a tub or warm water drawn and was wearing a white apron over her dressing gown. She told me to go ahead and get into the tub to soak. Now, it had been years since she had seen me naked, but her strong will just made me disrobe and get into the tub.

While I was soaking, she busied herself around the bathroom collecting things. Out of semi-embarrassment, I kept my eyes closed most of the time. I could hear her rummage through the cabinet and the water in the sink run for quite a while. I opened my eyes when I realized that things had gone pretty quiet - looking up I saw her standing there with a very large, very full red enema bag with a huge curved fat enema pipe on the end. The long black hose had a metal clamp that was holding back the liquid inside. At once I knew what was coming.

Before I could protest, she said that it had to be and that I obviously needed a thorough cleaning out and this would be the start. I started to get up but she made me lay back down in the tub and drape my legs over both sides. It was an old fashion tub with the claw feet that was away from the wall so there was no trouble being spread eagle in it. All at once she hung the bag and knelt beside the tub. She dipped the end of the nozzle in a jar of Vaseline and took a big glob on her finger as well and proceeded to reach down, pull up on my scrotum and apply the Vaseline to my anus. Without a flinch, she slid her finger right up inside me and spread the lubricant inside as well - at least it felt like that.

Then came the nozzle. It was at least 6 or 7" long and she worked all of it up me. Without a word, she reached over and flipped the clamp off and I felt an immediate rush of VERY warm water up my insides. Once it stared flowing, she massaged my entire stomach.

Like I said, she was an old German lady and not very gentle either. With all the massaging, the water rushing in me and my body being moved in the water of the tub, things soon started to respond and before I knew it, I had an erection. She really paid no attention to it other than to ask if I passed water alright to which I said yes. She had one of those "we will see" looks on her face.

A few times my erect penis would be brushed by her forearm as she massaged my stomach and I was really embarrassed. Soon the entire contents of the bag had flowed into my intestinal track and I felt like I was going to burst. She completed her massage and then helped me to stand so that I wouldn't fall. To my surprise she then proceeded to dry me - everywhere - and led me to the toilet. I was happy to have made it and was doing all I could to hold it till she left, but to my horror, I realized she wasn't going anywhere! She stayed until the last was out of me and then examined the result. After a few tut tuts, she said that I needed a lot of work. She mentioned something about soap and glycerin.

After that first water only enema, Gram prepared another using a bar of Ivory soap to make the water soapy. While she was preparing it, she said that I obviously needed a stronger soap preparation but that it would wait for a few days as it took time to prepare it. Little did I know what she had in mind. She got the water really warm and using her hands with the soap, made the water in a bowl very soapy, it was totally cloudy. Then she went into her cabinet and grabbed a bottle of liquid glycerin which she added quite a bit.

I remember sitting on the toilet watching her, still with a fairly good erection - and feeling embarrassed. After it was all well mixed she refilled the enema bag. Hers was the kind where the tube screwed into the end of the bag creating a closed container. I guess it doubled as a hot water bottle when it wasn't being used for enemas. I do distinctly remember that silver metal clamp on the hose. For some reason that intrigued me. I also had time to look more closely at the nozzle which I have learned in later life was actually the douche nozzle with many holes on the sides.

Once she had the bag filled, she told me to kneel down on the floor and put my head down. She also explained that I needed to hold this as long as possible and that she would help me hold it. Just how I wasn't sure. I did as I was told and knelt on the floor, where she had laid some towels. Once again, she opened the jar of Vaseline - at least I could hear her open it as she sat on the toilet with my rear pointing toward her and my young manhood pointing at the floor. I really felt "open" and exposed, but once again, you did what Gram said. The first feeling was her fingers on either side of my rear spreading my cheeks apart as her Vaseline coated finger probed, massaged and slowly entered me. She did this telling me all the while that she wanted to make sure I was well lubricated so that it didn't cause too much irritation right at my anus. She pushed her finger all the way inside me and began rubbing the Vaseline all over my rectum, massaging every inch. Extra time was spent in one spot that I know now was my prostate until a few drops of milky liquid had slipped out of me onto the towel. This did not go unnoticed by her. I remember her saying "3 drops - tut tut". I had no idea what she meant. She withdrew her finger and slowly inserted the douche nozzle all the way up to the hose. I heard the click of the clamp and felt the flow of the very warm water rush through me.

At this point, she reached under me and grasped around the base of my scrotum and penis and gently pulled down - saying that she needed to help me hold my soap. She allowed the water to flow until some cramping was felt. When ever I got a cramp, she would stop the flow for a moment and pull gently with the hand that had my manhood captive until the cramping stopped whereby she would start the flow once more. It took what seemed like hours to complete, but I am sure it was only 10 minutes or so.

Once the flow was complete, she re-inserted her finger into my rectum and massaged me more. She said that the stimulation would help me keep my mind off of the enema and hold my soap. Believe me, by this point; I was very excited sexually, but because of the situation, somewhat confused as well. I knew I loved some of the "treatment" but wasn't sure if I enjoyed the enema. Within about 5 minutes, my stomach was really churning and hurting. All the soap and glycerin was doing its job but wanted out - out NOW. She finally withdrew her finger and relaxed her grasp and let me go to the toilet.

Once again, I exploded and all the contents were forcibly expelled. All though this, she sat on the edge of the tub watching my progress. As things were calming down, she started asking me how I felt and if I had any bloating or gas feelings. Did I feel empty to which I said yes - her remark was - well maybe for today. I could only imagine what that meant. Then she switched on me and remarked that she hadn't noticed that I had peed - come to think of it, I hadn't! She asked me when the last time I had. I couldn't really remember to be honest.

Once I was finished, she had me clean up best I could and step back into the tub. She took it upon herself to make sure I was clean on the outside, using a rough cloth to scrub my backside, up through my crack, around my scrotum and my entire penis. When she got to my penis, she closely inspected, squeezing at the base and feeling every part. She also took note that some milky fluid was still seeping out. Again the questions started. How often did I pee? Did I drink enough water? How much. When I did pee, was the stream strong and steady. Could I stop and start it when I wanted to. When I peed, did I push or did it just flow out. Talk about embarrassed!

All this time she is asking, she is handling me, squeezing, poking and probing my most personal parts! After I was thoroughly scrubbed, she once again dried me and told me to go and try to pee. I took everything I had to get it going, but once it did, she came and took note of every aspect - again there were a few tut tut's. Once finished, she let me go and get dressed, but suggested I put on something that could quickly come off in case the soap had missed something that needed to come out quickly. I was relieved that I was finally able to cover myself. Luckily, my "treatments" were done for that day.

I do remember thinking that I did feel a lot better and lighter! My sensual feelings though, did bother me. Or rather they confused me. Later that afternoon, I came across Gram in the kitchen with a large bottle and bar of Ivory soap. She was cutting the bar up into smaller pieces, placing them into the bottle and adding hot water. Then she added a full bottle of liquid glycerin and stirred the entire mix. She told me that she felt that I needed a full and thorough cleansing and that she needed to prepare the stronger soap solution to aid in that cleansing. She explained that in a day or two the soap would dissolve and make a thicker soap solution that she would inject with a bulb syringe. My stomach churned at the thought and I had to make a bee line for the bathroom. I guess all of the earlier enema had not totally come out. I had to lay down for a while and recover.

Later I went back in the kitchen and it was apparent that she had taken it upon herself to make sure I went home much healthier than I had arrived. She had laid out all of her "supplies" on the table like it was an operating room. Some things I had seen, some were pretty scary including some small plain drinking style glasses, bulb syringe, the bottle with the soap and glycerin solution, two really large shot type syringes, alcohol, some cocoa butter, mineral oil, the now familiar enema bag, hose and nozzle and an assortment of ointments in tubes.

It was suggested that I let you know my level of sexual maturity at this distant time in my life. I was a fully developed 14, almost 15 year old. I started puberty when I was very young - about 11 and to shave by the time I was 13. I had also long since discovered the pleasures one could obtain from one's own body so I was familiar with the sensations I was feeling, but I was confused as to why I felt them during my "treatments".

For the rest of that first full day at Gram's house, she let me rest and relax as she prepared all of the "necessary items" for my treatments. She also took it upon herself to only feed me low bulk foods so as to allow for a more through cleaning. This included clear soups, broths and loads of jello.

That night when it came time for bed (8:00), she suggested I take another bath to relax. I did as I was told and she had a nightshirt and towel in the bathroom ready for me. I told her that I preferred PJ's, but she said I was to wear a nightshirt only so that nothing bound me during the night.

Again, I had no choice but to do as she said. I pulled on the shirt as instructed and felt somewhat like a girl in a nightgown but it was pretty short, so I convinced myself that it was more just like a big shirt. Gram told me that Grandpa used to sleep in one just like it before he passed. She came into the bedroom to check on me, carrying a small towel and a tube of something. She said that she needed to check my bottom to make sure there was no lingering irritation but if there was, she had some ointment to put on it. At this point, there was no refusal and I had resigned myself to the fact that she was going to be seeing, poking, pulling and prodding every part of my body for probably the rest of the summer.

I had two choices. One, I could try to resist which was useless or two, I could give in and try to figure out the feelings and enjoy it. I decided on the latter. With her announcement, she whisked the sheet back and pulled up the nightshirt telling me to raise my legs. I did as she ordered. She looked closely at my somewhat sore opening and decided that a little ointment would be good. She also took the opportunity to closely inspect every inch of my penis and scrotum. My adult hair seemed to get in the way of her inspection as evidenced by the look on her face while she plied through it. Once finished she told me that it was obvious that I had delicate skin and that she would have to keep a close eye on it.