It looked like 1963 was going to be another wasted summer. My mother wanted to come back home to Europe for an extended vacation. My father didn’t even bother to argue. He just booked tickets for a steamship passage on one of the swiftest lines.
We disembarked at Le Havre and took the boat train to Paris. From there on we chugged north all day in a passenger carriage that had probably carried troops to the Battle of the Marne once upon a time. At the train station it was the same disconcerting vaudeville as always. Aunts, uncles and cousins I didn’t even know I had milled around us like in a Marx Brothers comedy. “Oh, it’s been sooo long….My, how he’s grown….And this is our little Alex ?…” pinch pinch on the cheek and ruffle the hair. I got dozens of unwanted hugs and disgusting kisses. I didn’t know which kind was worse : the untrimmed whisker scratchers or the sloppy lipstick and perfume smackeroos.
And the worst of it was I hardly even understood half of what my relations were saying to begin with. It took me at least a week before I got the hang of the old language again.
The trip back to the old country fell into a familiar routine. Visits here, more visits there, parade the kid and the new fur coat and jewelry for the relatives and then some more of the same all over again.
I was older this second time over and not so manageable as before. After a week I got so on my parents’ nerves that they dumped me with an aunt while they continued their itinerary. It could have been worse I guess, but at least I didn’t have to dress up for dinner twice a day anymore and play Little Lord Fauntleroy in short pants.
The aunt’s name was Rosalie and she was actually my mother’s aunt even though she was younger than her niece. That made her my grand-aunt (I think). This confused me to no end when it was explained to me at the time. Not that it mattered in any practical way though. Older female relatives were ‘aunts’, older males were ‘uncles’. All the kids were ‘cousins’ no matter whose offspring they were. And I looked down on all of them, European wimps that they were. That was still the time when most folks in Europe thought the streets were paved with gold in the US, the gullible twits. No kidding. That’s how it went in those days. The questions they asked at times were simply unbelievable. I wondered how anyone could ever be so stupid.
Aunt Rosa’s son was two years younger than I. His name was Marc and all things considered, he was OK if a bit of a milksop. Uncle Francis was no longer around. Something happened to him a few years back. He had passed on and Aunt Rosa was on her own. She did however have a sort of semi-permanent live-in lady friend/housekeeper named Sophie. I wasn’t all too sure about the protocol, but she had a lot to say about how things were done in the household. For all practical purposes I was lodged with two aunts while my parents were off gallivanting around Paris and London for a week or two. I just hoped that another war wouldn’t break out and leave me stranded over here. The idea alone scared the hell out of me.
My two ‘aunts’ scared the hell out of me too, if for different reasons. On the one hand they pampered me and were so solicitous of my well-being it was almost embarrassing. After all, I was an American and therefore they imagined me a dollar millionaire by virtue of nationality alone. On the other hand I was still a child and to be treated as such. These were the days before teenagers and adolescence were discovered in Europe and given their proper place in the scheme of things.
But it had it’s good sides too. Dinners were scrumptious and plentiful, if a trifle different from what I was used to. Deserts were a heaven of delights - cakes, pies and cream puffs galore. Afternoon outings always included visits to a chocolatier and large ice cream parfaits and if I were so inclined (and I was) aunt Rosa even bought me ice cream cones filled up with nothing but whipped cream.
Of course my metabolism suffered accordingly. I had never been one for using strange bathrooms willingly and though thankfully they didn’t have French squatter toilets, the accommodations were still a bit weird for my taste. Everything was just slightly different and old fashioned. Toilets were generally built outside the house, even in small city backyards. Bathrooms were just that : bathrooms, a place to wash and bathe. For emergencies or in bad weather there were always chamber pots. It was simply mortifying.
It was dinner time about 3 or 4 days into my stay at aunt Rosa’s when she announced it was bath night. I finished stuffing an éclair into my mouth and turned to my cousin Marc thinking stupidly that I could gather some information by the look on his face. Silly me, he just smiled and grabbed the last piece of torte.
“Marc, shouldn’t you think of your cousin Alex first ?” Aunt Rosa pleasantly chided.
“It’s all right Madame,” I replied, ever the courteous little gentleman I never was around my parents. “I’m oh so full. It was very good.”
“Isn’t it nice to see young people eat so heartily ?” That was ‘aunt’ Sophie. She smiled in my direction. “We’ll put some weight on you yet before you leave. Don’t you worry. Why you’re almost skin and bones, poor thing.”
I was nothing of the sort. But these kind of comments were expected of European aunts. If you didn’t look like a roly-poly King Wenceslas you were underweight.
“Why don’t you and cousin Alex go amuse yourselves in the living room until your dinner’s digested dear ?” Aunt Rosa said to her son. “Then it will be time for a nice hot bath.”
We stood up while aunt Sophie started clearing the table.
Now financially speaking our European relations may have thought my family a cross between the Rockefellers and Paul Getty, but my aunt Rosa hadn’t done too bad for herself either. She had a telephone in the house, a radio (no TV yet, there wasn’t anything to view anyway), a black shiny Ford she couldn’t drive and a large enameled bathroom with hot water geyser. No filling up a tin tub with buckets in front of the coal stove in this household. She was very proud of her house and appliances. Accordingly I found out that taking a bath was a big production.
About an hour after dinner, aunt Sophie came to escort us upstairs. She was in charge of ‘getting things ready’. The bathroom was next to aunt Rosa’s bedroom, which was where we were taken. I had never been inside there before. It was a large frilly over-decorated room, smelling of perfume and talcum powder.
“Your clean pajamas are already laid out for you.” Aunt Sophie pointed towards the bed. “I’ll draw the water while you boys get undressed. Don’t take too long now….”
Back home, stateside, I had been used to swimming nude at the Y, though I cringed at the thought of my parents ever seeing me do so. I don’t think they did. But in contrast to the mass skinny-dipping I indulged in, I also took my own baths in private and had been doing so for about as long back as I could remember. It must have been for about 3 years or so. An eternity.
I wasn’t so keen on the idea of bathing with my cousin. And even less on being bathed by one of these aunts. Marc didn’t seem to mind one way or the other and he started on his shoes first, then pants, underpants and shirt last. I didn’t really want to look, but couldn’t help staring at him anyway. As if he even tried to be modest to begin with.
He fiddled around with his prick a bit and hopped from side to side while I stood in the middle of the bedroom, not knowing what to do. “C’mon Alex. I’ve got to take a pee first. I can’t wait.” He hurried into the bathroom.
I wanted to point out that the toilet was downstairs, but then figured that he should know that by now. Then an idea struck me. Maybe aunt Rosa had a normal bathroom after all ? I was still trying to figure out what I should do, if anything, when aunt Sophie came to see what was taking me so long.
“What’s the matter Alex dear ? Hurry up now and take off your clothes so we can get you into the bath.”
“Ahhh Auntie Sophie ?” That was how she liked to be called. “Back home I have my own bathroom.”
“My goodness isn’t that nice ? I guess everybody does ?” She thought I was trying to impress her.
“No no, I mean I take my own baths.”
“Doesn’t anybody come to wash your back ?”
“Or look to make sure you’ve washed all over ?’
I shook my head and started to feel a slight fluttering in my stomach.
“Well that’s silly. Just come along now and we’ll show you how we do things here.” That must have been the first time anybody even hinted that the American way of doing things might not be better. I didn’t know what to reply.
“Shouldn’t I wait until Marc’s finished ?”
“The water will be cold by then, and we can’t afford to draw water for two baths in a row, now can we ?”
I didn’t see why not, but said nothing. My European relations were masters at playing the impoverished relatives when it suited them.
“Do you want me to call aunt Rosa to give you a hand ?”
“No, please…I’d rather not.”
“Good. Now don’t be so nervous. I’ve been doing this for so long. I’ve seen lots of little boys without their clothes on you know.”
“I’m not a little boy…”
She looked at me probably thinking me oh so cute - me considering myself a grown-up and not even needing to shave yet. I did however sport a little bush of adolescent hair in another more private place. I had been rather proud when I first noticed it a few weeks ago, but now I wasn’t so sure.
“Of course not. I’ve seen lots of men without their pants on as well.” She winked and puckered her lips, taking me by the arm. “I don’t mind one bit.” Aunt Sophie began unbuckling my belt. She loosened the waist button and pulled the garment down around my ankles. The trouser legs were wide enough in those days to slip over my shoes.
She hooked her fingers into the hem of my underpants and pulled them down around my thighs. I started blushing and could have sworn I felt my prick start to blush as well. As it was it just stiffened a little. I tried to pull my briefs back up but aunt Sophie blocked my hand.
“Tsk tsk tsk now Alex. It’s all right. You know we have to undress you for your bath. Let’s get the rest off too, shall we ?”
I felt the utter fool and completely exposed, the more so for still wearing my shoes. Aunt Sophie had me lift my arms so she could remove my sweater. Guiding me towards the large fluffy bed, she had me sit down while she took off my socks and shoes. That done she had me lean on my back so she could slip off my briefs. “Lift your legs up into the air a little dear, so your Auntie can undress you.”
I was practically mortified by the idea alone and tried to wiggle them off myself. Aunt Sophie caught hold of my ankles and lifted them high, forcing me on my back. Smiling she took off my last piece of clothing. “There we are.”
There we were indeed. I wanted to sit back up but she told me to lay still. Holding one leg of mine she sat down next to me. I could feel the bed sag under her weight and I was shifted nearer to her. Still murmuring she placed my leg in her lap and took hold of my prick. “Open your legs a little bit more dear, ….your auntie just wants to check and see if everything’s all right and if you’re keeping yourself clean.”
I tried shutting my eyes and wondered what would happen if I just belted her one. Not that I would ever have dared. In spite of all my thoughts I hardly even fidgeted or tried to pull away. Nobody had even handled me down there for the last few years. Not even the school doctor back home had taken a peak. Now this older lady, an aunt by virtue of age only, was unabashedly giving my apparatus a good look see.
“It’s good they didn’t cut your tally-whacker. It’s so much prettier this way….” She was referring to my uncircumcised foreskin. That was part of my European heritage I guess. Many years later I learned that my parents had had an awful row about this little aspect of my anatomy. My mother got her way of course.
At the moment however I didn’t see the need for comment. Aunt Sophie tried pulling down on my prepuce but couldn’t get it past my glans. She rolled the tip around in her fingers, testing the elasticity. “It looks like we’re going to have to make doubly sure everything’s working all right here. We’ll see after the bath.”
She then pressed my prick up against my abdomen so she could get a good look at my testicles. Aunt Sophie rolled them around in her palm and kneaded them with her fingers. “Hmmm…this looks all right, but it is a shame about that nasty hair you’re beginning to sprout down here. Maybe we can take care of that as well. Won’t that be nice ?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but instinctively I knew it would be humiliating.
“Please Auntie Sophie, can I get up now ?”
“Just a minute dear. There’s no hurry is there ? Just a little look at your fannyhole. We’ve got to make sure that’s nice and clean, mustn’t we ?”
I could have cared less, but knew she wouldn’t find much. I hadn’t used that ignominious little muscle for several days now, I was that stuffed up.
“Legs a little higher now Alex, come on.” She prodded with a finger but I was sealed tight back there. Rubbing her finger along my puckered sphincter didn’t help either.
“Oh my dear, you mustn’t be so tense. We always do this before bath time, to check if you’ve been going regularly. Have you been to the commode today ?”
I pretended not to understand her.
“I think you’ve waited too long. That will never do you know. A person can become very ill if he doesn’t go to the bathroom every day. Do you understand ?”
I did and all too well. “I’ll go after the bath Auntie Sophie, I promise.”
“Hhmmm….” She put my legs down and I gratefully sat back up, crossing hands over my prick. “You wait here. I’ll be right back.”
A minute or so afterwards she came back from the bathroom, carrying a folded towel in her hands. I could tell there was something wrapped up in it. Putting the towel with the ominous bulge down on the bed, aunt Sophie told me to stand up in front of her. My heart was thumping as I shakily got to my legs. She opened her legs and ruffled up her skirt a bit.
“Come a little closer.” She pulled me between her thighs. “I just want to feel your tummy here and there. Relax dear.” With her fingers she prodded my abdomen and pressed inwards. Then she had me turn around, presenting my backside to her. Her arm snaked around front and pushed into my underbelly again. I could feel her legs tighten around me as she clasped me firmly.
“Now there’s just one little thing we have to check Alex.” She let go of me and stood up. “But first I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I have to put on a frock for your bath anyway. I don’t want to get all wet when you splash around.”
I could have told her that I didn’t really splash around and play with rubber ducks anymore, but somehow I had the feeling that wasn’t what she was referring to. By now I had perceived that all this was turning out to be an activity of an entirely different nature altogether. It was embarrassing, disconcerting and disturbing, but very arousing on another level. I was too young to completely understand what was going on, but I had enough sense to just let things happen and see what came of them. It seemed I was beginning to like standing around naked in front of aunt Sophie.
While I was contemplating the apparent paradoxes in my situation, aunt Sophie went to a large wardrobe and choose a white garment. She draped it over the wardrobe door. She then loosened her blouse and skirt and stepped out of them. She discarded her shoes and bent over to rummage for a pair of slippers.
I looked wide-eyed at her. Of course she still had on a multitude of undergarments, covering just about all of her upper body and thighs, but even so I was transfixed at her brazenness. Well maybe that was too strong a word. Unconcernedness might be more fitting. She was wearing flimsy and frilly things, a beige slip around her waist, a white brassiere and something with straps on top. I hadn’t had much experience with these kinds of undergarments, but I could tell they were of good quality and not something ordinarily worn for the benefit of young nephews.
Bending over she rolled off her stockings after unclasping them from a garter belt. Last aunt Sophie unhooked her slip and discarded it as well. She was still wearing lace trimmed knickers. Turning around to give me a smile she took the garment she had fetched from the wardrobe. It was a white colored apron of sorts, open in the back, fastened with a knot.
“There, that’s much more comfortable.”
Once again she sat down next to me. She shuffled up onto the bed and patted her lap. “I want you to come and lay down on your tummy for me like a good little boy.”
By now I just nodded and said nothing as she took hold of my arm and guided me into position. I bent over to kneel down on the bed before lowering myself. My prick was pressed against the crisp clean fabric of her apron. She opened her legs a bit to accommodate me and patted my behind. “There we are. Your auntie’s just going to feel around inside a bit, so we can see what we need to do. It won’t hurt at all, but you must relax and let me do what I have to. Understand dear ?”
“I guess so…”
“It’s all right. I do this for Marc and aunt Rosa quite often, and if you be a good boy maybe we’ll do something special before you go to bed tonight. Would you like that ?”
“What is it ?”
“Oh I can’t tell you that right now. But aunt Rosa and I know what little boys like. Promise to obey and do as we tell you ?”
“You must say so out loud. Say ‘I promise to do what my aunties tell me’.”
I repeated what she told me, feeling silly and aroused at the same time. “That’s good. I can tell you’re not going to be a naughty boy, are you ?”
I was shivering from anticipation and apprehension by now. Something about all this was dreadfully naughty all right, but I was sure that wasn’t what she meant.
“No Auntie Sophie, I’m not. Promise.”
“Good, now I’m going to put something soft and slippery into your little hole. It will be a little bit cool, but don’t be startled, all right ?”
“All right….” I closed my eyes and buried my face in the bed covering.
I heard her unscrew a glass jar and then felt my behind being pried open. Her finger daubed something cool and greasy into my asshole and she worked it around, into and around my sphincter. She pushed her finger in a bit but didn’t press in all the way.
“Now just relax dear, it’s all right. I’m going to stick something small up your fanny so I can see if there’s anything that must come out. It won’t hurt a bit. But you must lie still.”
She fiddled around with something I couldn’t see from my position. I tried to look.
“What’s the matter dear ? Don’t you trust your aunt Sophie ? I’m just going to use a little rubber rod. It’s soft enough to bend and isn’t very thick around. Want to see ?”
I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t resist. Aunt Sophie held up a thin red rubber baton. It was rounded at the end, about a foot long and as wide as her pinkie. She had spread something oily along the thin shaft.
“There, it’s not too big now, is it ? I’m sure you’ll be used to much bigger things before you grow up. Maybe we can see about that before you go back home. Would you like that ? Every boy should be used to using his fanny for other things than just going to the bathroom.”
I was listening with all my attention, but without really understanding all the implications. It sounded very naughty indeed. “I don’t know aunt Sophie, maybe…”
“We’ll see. Let’s do this first, all right ?” I lay my head back down and tried to calm the beating of my heart. Aunt Sophie parted my buttocks again and pushed the tip of the rubber rod into my behind. She teased at first, going in and out and then exerted more pressure, slipping the pliable stick into my anus and rectum. It tingled as it went in and I felt funny in my insides.
“There we are dear. Wasn’t that easy ? Our little stick is already inside your fanny.” She waited a bit and ruffled my hair. “It feels good, doesn’t it darling ?”
“A little bit…”
“You can’t fool me. I can feel how stiff your little wee-wee is.” She used a slang word for my prick. It sounded vaguely smutty to my ears but she seemed to like using it. And she was of course right on about my penis. “I put some Vaseline and glycerin on the stick to make you feel warm around your fannyhole. Doesn’t it feel nice ?”
It felt odd and disquietingly pleasant. The glycerin didn’t sting at all, but it did make my asshole relax and glow at the same time.
“Now we’re going to slide it all the way in. Here we go darling. Push a bit for me.” I started to flex my legs but aunt Sophie giggled. “No no. relax your bumhole and push it out gently, like you’ve got to go. All right ?”
I did as she asked. As I tried to concentrate and flex my asshole, aunt Sophie wiggled the rubber rod and inserted it the full length. She waited a while and praised me for being so obedient.
I was almost overwhelmed by the sensations I was experiencing. True it was just a tiny rod all things considered, but it was my first anal penetration from the outside in. I was shaking from desire, only I didn’t know it at the time. I thought it was from embarrassment but deep down I think I knew better.
Then aunt Sophie withdrew the rod slowly while keeping my bottom clenched wide open with her other hand. The rod slid out and holding it up to the light aunt Sophie examined it.
“Tsk tsk Alex. This looks rather stained to me.” She laid it down on the towel. “I think we’re going to have to clean you out before you get into the bath. I’ll let Aunt Rosa take a look, but I’m sure she’ll agree with me.”
She stood up and put the towel with the soiled rubber rod on a vanity. “You wait here a minute. Don’t go away now.”
I wondered where she thought I would get to in this lack of outfit. I sat back up and hugged my arms around me. Aunt Sophie saw me and thought I was cold. “Oh silly me. I’m sorry darling. Put this on until I get back.” She took a hanger out of the wardrobe. It was something white and satiny - a nightgown or negligee ? I shook my head.
“Don’t be silly, it’s just a bathrobe.” She spread it over my shoulders and tucked it around me. It was too soft and thin to be a bathrobe but I did as she told me anyway.
A minute or two later my two aunts were back. They studied the stick on the towel while I sat huddled on my aunt Rosa’s bed. This was so difficult. I didn’t know which was worse : my real aunt seeing me naked with a stiff prick or seeing me dressed in one of her nightclothes.
She apparently thought nothing of either. “Oh you poor little darling. You must be so uncomfortable. Why didn’t you say you were all stuffed up ? That’s what happens when you travel you know.”
She was right about that. I just shrugged.
“You mustn’t be shy about such things. Not in my house. Now you just wait here while we finish giving Marc his bath. Then your aunt Rosa and Sophie will take care of you. You’ll feel so much better afterwards. I promise.”
My aunts disappeared inside the bathroom for several minutes. I heard the faucets shut and then some splashing noises. Aunt Rosa came back out first. She was carrying a few items and put them down on the bed where I could see them. There was another clean fluffy towel, a glass jar of Vaseline, a small bottle, two little cardboard boxes, a pair of large tweezers, some tissues and another rubber stick, this time not so long.
She smiled at me and patted my head. “I’m going to change into something more practical. I won’t be a moment.” I nodded and looked at the objects lying next to me trying to figure out whatever they were for. “Don’t touch anything dear.”
“I won’t.” I replied, looking at my aunt Rosa undressing at the foot of the bed. She too removed blouse and skirt revealing a long one pieced slip. This she undid as well and let it drop to the floor. Going one further than aunt Sophie, she also unlatched her bra but kept her knickers on.
I couldn’t help but stare at her revealed ample bosom. Thinking she might be angry for me peeping I turned away. “It’s all right to look Alex, I’m your aunt after all. I don’t want you to feel shy while you’re staying here.” She sauntered past me and went over to the wardrobe choosing a similar white apron-like garment to wear. She tied it fast and came back to me.
“Stand up a moment my darling and take off the robe, while I fix the bed. I don’t want to make a mess while attending to you.”
As I stood to one side my aunt took a pillow and placed it near the edge of the bed. She draped a large towel over it. “Lay down on your back over here now….. That’s right a little more forward…” Aunt Rosa snuggled the cushion up into the small of my back so that I was positioned with my bottom slightly elevated.
“Lift your legs up for me now. We’re going to use a little suppository to get you started. It will just tingle a bit inside your fanny and help you go.” She used a dialect word that meant ‘little candle’ instead of the proper ‘suppository’. When she opened one of the boxes and unwrapped an object inside I understood why it was called so. The rectal pill was somewhat longer than her index finger and about as thick around. It was tapered like a candle and seemed to be made of a similar waxy substance. “There’s just some glycerin and some other things in it. It won’t burn, you’ll see. And I’ll make it nice and slippery so it will enter easily.”
Unscrewing the Vaseline jar my aunt dipped her finger in and anointed the suppo. Then she opened the other bottle and dropped the ‘little candle’ in. It bobbed lazily about in an oily looking liquid. It was glycerin, apparently a favorite element whenever there was any rectal cleaning going on in aunt Rosa’s household.
“Now just a bit of slippery stuff on your fannyhole and we’re all set…” I felt her daub some Vaseline around my asshole. She rubbed it in slowly. “There we are. Let me get this little fanny pill out of the bottle…” here she used the tweezers to fish it out, “…and into your bottom where it belongs. Ready ? Push out darling…there we are…”
The suppository flipped into me. Aunt Rosa pushed it in a ways with her finger and wiggled around. Then she withdrew her digit and took hold of the rubber rod. She lubricated it quickly and inserted it into me as well. “That’s so we can push the suppo all the way up into you where it can work best.”
I was allowed to sit up while the suppo did it’s work. My aunt cleaned her fingers and said it would be a few minutes before I felt anything. When I did I was to tell her. Meanwhile she was going to take a look at my prick, just like aunt Sophie had. My but these were a bevy of inquisitive ladies when it came to private parts.
But truthfully by now I didn’t really mind. I pretended being reluctant but didn’t put much enthusiasm into the act. Aunt Rosa had me stand up in front of her while she handled my stiff prong. She too seemed enthralled that I was uncircumcised. And equally concerned that my foreskin did not retract. Cupping and rubbing my balls she commented on my nascent pubic hair.
“Isn’t that a shame ? Boy’s wee-wees are so much softer without anything growing around them. We’ll take care of that later dear, don’t you worry.”
I wasn’t worrying one bit and made a face.
“It’s all right. Aunt Sophie and I do it too,” my aunt confided.
I tried to picture it, but failed. Somehow however, I had the impression that I would be enlightened during my stay. The idea caused me to tremble. Aunt Rosa thought her ‘little candle’ was already working.
“Do you feel anything ? Keep it in you for a while longer dear.”
“It’s all right aunt Rosa, I don’t feel much yet.”
“Are you sure ? Well you wait here for a while then. I’ll be right back.” She went into the bathroom. Several minutes later my cousin and two aunts came out. It looked like Marc was finished with his bath.
Aunt Rosa took Marc’s pyjamas and handed them to aunt Sophie. “Maybe you’d better go tuck Marc in bed and come back to lend me a hand. All right ?”
Sophie nodded and after the still naked boy kissed aunt Rosa goodnight, she led him from the room.
“Well, it looks like you’re going to be staying up later than usual Alex. I hope you can manage, but it’s very important that we clean you out thoroughly. You understand that, don’t you ?”
“It’s all right Auntie. Back home I stay up much later than this.”
“Maybe so, but we all have to get our rest, now don’t we ?”
At that age I could have cared less. But I didn’t say anything.
“Do you feel anything yet ?” My aunt asked, meaning the suppository I surmised.
I did actually, but it was nothing very urgent. Like she had predicted I felt a warm tingling sensation inside my belly and my asshole felt slightly irritated, but beyond that I experienced no urge to move my constipated bowels. In fact the sensation was vaguely pleasant in an indescribable manner. “A little something….”
“Hmmmm…well maybe we’d better go into the bathroom in that case. Come along now.” She held out her hand.
Guiding me along ahead of her, I finally entered aunt Rosa’s bathroom. It was spacious as bathrooms go and was elegantly if somewhat old-fashionedly decorated with white tiles from floor to ceiling. The floor was done in larger beige colored tiles with several bath-rugs adding a touch of color. There was a large sink with brass faucets and mirror overhead, an enameled bathtub set against a wall with water heater overhead, a few small wall cabinets and chair. In a corner there was a convenience I mistook for a toilet at first. It looked rather small and low however and when I spotted two faucets on one end I recognized it as a bidet.
My parents, not wanting me to grow up ignorant of the ways of the world, had matter-of-factly informed me that in some European households, bidets were a common feature. And indeed, in hotels on the continent that had proven to be the case. They had however expressly neglected to enlighten me as to the contraption’s true purpose. I ended up thinking they were used to wash one’s feet. The ignorance of youth.
When my aunt took a chamber pot from under the sink and placed it by the bath, I realized the room had no toilet. This was very disconcerting, to say the least. Up to now, I had always managed to avoid using such an antiquated object. The idea alone was disheartening.
“Do you want to try now dear ?” She nodded at the pot. “Or shall we wait just a bit longer ?”
“Aunt Rosa ? I’d rather use the normal toilet please ?” And in private.
“Don’t be silly. There’s nothing wrong with this. Besides, you can’t go to the WC dressed like that. You have nothing on. You’ll surely catch cold.”
“But…but I can’t….”
“Of course you can my darling. Just sit down. We all do it like this when necessary. It’s quite all right.”
“But I’ve never done this before…”
She smiled at me and wagged her head. “So shy, you poor little thing. Would you rather I didn’t watch this one time ?”
I had no intention of ever letting it get beyond ‘this one time’ in any case. I nodded.
“All right, but just this once, understand ?” She turned around and busied herself with the contents of a cabinet, rearranging and rummaging around. I would have preferred she just leave the bathroom, but I resigned myself that that would asking too much.
Wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible I bent over and squatted down over the chamber pot. I felt utterly ridiculous and exposed. But in spite of all this I still did as my aunt wanted. Probably deep in my heart of hearts one side of me was enjoying all this attention given to me and my naughty parts.
I strained and pushed but nothing came out. Somehow I had been afraid of this. Composing myself and trying to pretend I was elsewhere I tried again. Thankfully I felt something slide out my asshole. At least I had produced something. I tried again but it looked like I had given it my best shot. Nothing.
Well, at least aunt Rosa couldn’t say I hadn’t tried. I wanted to be done with all this and get on with the bath so I could get dressed and slink off by myself somewhere. Standing up I wanted to push the pot away and out of sight. I didn’t get the chance.
“Finished already dear ? Let’s take a look.” She bent over to view the contents. “Dear me, Alex. You’ve only expelled the suppository, or what’s left. Can’t you do anything more ?”
My heart fell. “I really tried aunt Rosa. Maybe tomorrow ?”
“Nonsense. By postponing things you’ll only make them worse. We’ll just have to try something different, that’s all. But don’t worry, I know how to take care of your little problem.”
It seemed as if she were rather pleased helping me with this ‘little problem’. I didn’t consider it to be anything of the sort. Wondering what she was going to do, I sat down and watched my aunt gather an assortment of items. Some I recognized, some not.
She neatly set the jars of Vaseline and glycerin, clearly favorites of hers, on a marble counter. Then some packets and small boxes, much like those that had contained the ineffective suppository. She also placed a red rubber thingamajig next to the other items. It was shaped like a small balloon. I didn’t know what it was, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t anything you’d find at a party.
My aunt also arranged some tube-like objects neatly next to the rubber balloon, a clean washcloth, a bar of soap, a glass jar and vial, and some other things I couldn’t make out. Last she laid out an ominous looking syringe. It was much larger than those I knew from doctor’s visits. It was made of metal and glass with a curved plunger handle. I didn’t see any needle attached to the tip, so I guessed (prayed is a better word) that it had nothing to do with injections.
Seeing my wide eyes when she placed the syringe on the counter, aunt Rosa reassured me. “There’s nothing to worry about Alex. This is not for a shot or anything nasty like that. I’m going to use this to get some medicine up into your fannyhole.”
That wasn’t nasty ? But I was relieved. After a ‘little candle’ and a rubber rod or two up the bumhole, who was I to complain about a dose of medicine ?
“What kind of medicine aunt Rosa ?”
“Well, it’s not really medicine. Just something to soften you up inside and help you expel everything. That’s all. It’s mostly some glycerin and oil dear. It will feel very nice and warm and tingly.”
That’s what she said about the suppo too. It had turned out to be a bit of an overstatement. I supposed this would be too.
Aunt Rosa prepared the syringe first. She attached a long rubber tube to the end and put it into the bottle of glycerin so she could draw the viscous liquid up into the glass container. She did the same with another bottle of yellowish colored liquid, a kind of oil I supposed and then finished by adding a milky thick substance. “Just a teensy bit of soap dear,” my aunt told me as I watched her preparations.
She capped off the syringe and lay it down on a towel. I couldn’t help but stare at the contents - a thick glistening syrupy mixture, no doubt rich in irritants.
“Let’s choose a nozzle to use with this, shall we ? Do you want to see what kind I have ? They all look so nice it’s hard to make a choice, isn’t it ?” She pointed to some five different tubes she had laid out. They were of different sizes and lengths, several had curved tips. I saw now that they could be screwed on to the syringe and were undoubtedly intended to stick up my bottom. As for being difficult to choose from, I didn’t really know. They all looked rather large to me.
Aunt Rosa held up a few so I could inspect them. My preference went out to the smallest size. I pointed to it. “Alex darling, that’s the smallest nozzle, you don’t want me to use that one. Let me pick out something better for my favorite nephew.”
She acted as if she couldn’t make up her mind, holding up one nozzle at first and then another. Smiling she settled on the second largest - the tip was enlarged and bulbous and the shaft curved to about 45 degrees. It looked especially naughty to me. Aunt Rosa spread some Vaseline from her much used jar onto the nozzle and attached it to the syringe.
“Voila, all ready to squirt into your tummy. Why don’t you bend over the chair for me ?”
There didn’t seem any way I was going to get out of this so I resigned myself to obeying my aunt. I placed my arms on the sit and leaned over forward. “No, no. That’s not far enough. Lay down all the way on the chair, so your bottom is sticking up. That’s right, snuggle forward a bit more and put your hands on the floor…” She maneuvered me into place.
Before inserting the syringe she added another daub of Vaseline to my asshole. She held the syringe upright and purged a bit of air out. A few drops of the slick solution oozed out and rolled down the nozzle slowly. For good measure, my aunt rubbed them into the Vaseline. Placing the tip up against my bumhole, she moved about until she was lodged in my opening. With a few deft motions, she moved up and down and inserted the curved nozzle. I could distinctly feel the bulbous tip being forced past my sphincter. It was a disquieting sensation, far from painful but just a shade beyond the pleasurable. She pushed up as far as she could and then depressed the plunger, slowly expelling the solution into my stopped up bowels. It felt cool going in.
Done, she retracted the nozzle in a similar manner, this time using a hand to hold my buttocks open. She placed the empty syringe back on the counter. Thinking the treatment finished I wanted to get up, but my aunt told me to stay as I was. “Don’t get up yet, dear. There’s something else we have to do first. We’re going to use another suppository, a different kind this time.”
She unwrapped another of the ‘little candles’ and held it under the running faucet, rubbing it up and down it’s length. Kneeling down next to me she pressed the slippery suppo into my ass and wiggled it about. Then she withdrew it and reinserted it. This she did several times until I began to feel a burning sensation. This was no mere ‘tingling’ or ‘warm feeling’ but a distinct and sudden irritation. I moved around trying to rib myself of the annoying stick in my behind.
“No, no, Alex. Sit still and don’t thrash around. You don’t want to break this little soap suppo now do you ?”
“Soap ? It hurts aunt Rosa…please…”
“Nonsense, it can’t hurt at all. This is just a very mild soap candle. It only tingles a little bit. Now just lay still, I have to work up a little lather for your bottom-hole and then I can push it into you.”
Well her idea of ‘tingling’ and mine were very different to say the least. This really burned and irritated my ass, much more than the glycerin suppo ever did. I had to tense myself to remain relatively still. Even so I could not really control the contractions of my sphincter. It began to pucker and pull in and out. The burning began to spread inside of me as well.
Probably deciding that I couldn’t take much more of this kind of stimulation, aunt Rosa inserted the soap baton all the way up my bowels. With her soapy finger she pushed it even higher. She left her finger in me for several moments telling me to try and control the spasms in my anus. “Just relax dear and don’t think about anything except how good you’re going to feel in a little while.”
She withdrew her finger and told me I could get up.
“There’s just one more thing we have to do and then everything will be all right. But first I want you to wait a few minutes and go to the pot again.”
Wasn’t this ever going to be finished ? I stood up shakily and squirmed around, not trusting myself to control my bowels. My aunt saw me making faces and tensing my buttocks and thighs.
“Are you feeling anything yet, dear ?” She could tell from my movements that I most certainly was. “That’s good. But you must not let go yet. It’s especially important that you keep the soap suppo in you. If you must you can press your bottom together.”
I did as she recommended but felt the fool with my hands on my behind. I doubled over as well to ease some of the cramping. “Ooohhh….my…”
“Maybe you had better sit down if you must dear. But let me put a clean towel on the chair first.” Aside from a towel, she also pressed several tissues up against my asshole into the crease of my buttocks. “There we are, now a little accident won’t make much of a mess.”
It wasn’t the just the ‘little accidents’ that I was afraid of, but of any and all. I rapidly sat down, welcoming the unusual and unnatural feel of something bunched up against my asshole. By now I could really discern the irritating effect of the soap suppo. My sphincter muscles especially were twitching and pulsing, as if anxious to expel the intruding object.
“Now you just wait a bit while I prepare this last thing for you. Remember to keep the suppo in. If it slips out I’m going to have use a fresh one. Understand darling ?”
I nodded. Gradually the burning subsided to a manageable level.
While I was sitting out the series of cramps and gritting my teeth with determination to see this through and get it all over with, my aunt Rosa was merrily preparing yet another, and hopefully last, component of her cleaning-out remedy.
She filled the sink with warm water, I could see it steaming from where I sat, and added ingredients from various flasks and vials, stirring everything with her hand. I watched her lift her hand, covered with glistening soap suds, up to her face. She sniffed appreciatively and smiled.
I tried to get a whiff but beyond a general soapy fragrance, I couldn’t make out much. Aunt Rosa saw me and held out her hand. “It smells nice, doesn’t it darling ? This is for you.”
I thought she meant she was going to wash my face or other parts with the soapy water. I was right in a manner of speaking, but not about the parts. By now I should have known better. For me, up till now, soap was something for the outside of the body. True, every now and then I would hear of mouths being washed out on account of the use of foul language but mostly those tall tales belonged to the realm of myth, being nothing but apocryphal anecdotes. Aunt Rosa however, thought soap equally suited for the insides, especially when used rectally.
I made out a flowery soapy scent, mingled with several others - a fruitish-like aroma and something tangy as well. “Just a few more minutes and then you can let the suppo and glycerin out. Then we’ll start with the water and in no time at all you’ll be empty and clean.”
“What do you mean Aunt Rosa ?” I asked, dismayed that there seemed to be no end in sight to this intestinal cleaning.
“Why what did you think Alex sweetie ? I’ve prepared this nice smelling water for your lavage. Surely you know what that is ? Maybe you call them clysters ? No ? A lavement ?” Aunt Rosa used several words that I didn’t really understand, though had she said ‘enema’ in English I would have been just as ignorant.
“It doesn’t matter, we’re going to do it no matter what you call it.” She continued arranging things and setting everything to her satisfaction. I saw her attach another nozzle to the balloon like thing. She gave a few squeezes into the air. I heard air escape loudly and knew what she was going to do with it. Another device for squirting things into someone’s behind. This time it was for water I correctly realized. The things grown-ups didn’t come up with. I thought it almost unbelievable, never before had I encountered such customs.
A few minutes and several cramps later my aunt told me to expel whatever I could. As I stood up to use the pot, she took the tissues from between my buttocks and examined them. In spite of all my efforts, it seemed I had leaked some of the glycerin and oil. All in all it couldn’t have been too much since the tissues were mostly dry. Still my aunt wagged her finger at me. “Tsk tsk, Alex. You’ve got to be more careful in the future. Big boys don’t make a mess before going to the potty. Next time I’d better fit you out with a stopper for your fannyhole. Or maybe I should keep my finger inside of you. How about that ?”
Truly I had no intention of there being a ‘next time’ but said nothing. “I’m sorry aunt Rosa, but it really burns. And this is the first time anyone’s ever done this to me.” I hunched down over the pot, not trusting myself to remain in control anymore.
“It’s all right dear, I’m not upset or anything. I suppose you’ve just never had the proper training. What a shame. But don’t you worry. Your aunt will take care of that while your staying with us.” She knelt down to one side of me. “Now I want you to push out whatever you can. Take a deep breath now ….”
While she held on to my hand I did as she told me. I bore down and puckered my asshole. I felt a dribble of greasy moisture spurt out in fits and starts. Hardly worth the trouble.
My aunt looked between my legs into the chamber pot. “Try a little bit more. The soap suppo didn’t come out, did it ?”
I had felt nothing solid.
“Once again now, do it for me….gently but firmly….push with your fanny….”
I strained and pushed. With an audible flop, a small solid object dropped into the pot. An insignificant amount of liquid followed but at least I had passed the suppo, or what remained of it.
“There we are. That’s a good boy. Stand up so I can clean you off.” Aunt Rosa used a tissue to wipe my bottom. “Now we’re ready…. I want you to lay down on the bathrug with your belly upwards.” Gingerly I sat down and lay back, very conscious that my prick was still very stiff. It stuck straight up into the air.
“Spread your legs for me darling, that’s right. Now lift them high so I can see your little bumhole.” She rubbed it gently and stuck a finger in. “Oh yes, I think you’re ready for the lavage now. Feel how easily I can stick my finger in ? It slides right in and out. Just a little bit now and all that nasty stuff will slide out just as easily. You’ll see.”
She took the red rubber balloon with nozzle and squeezed. Then she dipped the tip into the sink and drew up water. She filled it up and pressed the nozzle, once again a curved thick shaft, up into my hole. As my aunt had predicted, she had no trouble inserting the tip, so distended and oft used was my bumhole by then. She squeezed and I felt the warm water flow into me. In one way it felt soothing since it at least diluted some of the remaining glycerin and soap. On another level it was an extra stimulation.
After aunt Rosa had discharged half a dozen units of the warm and soapy solution into me, I began to feel an urgency of another kind. My innards began to churn and cramp, slowly at first and then more forcefully. It was all I could do to hold up everything without leaking. As it was, I felt trickles of water seep from around the nozzle each time it was inserted and removed. I knew my asshole was quivering from the pressure I exerted to keep it firmly closed.
My aunt bade me lie still and receive an even dozen fillings. By then I was full and could take no more. I wanted to quickly expel the whole contents of my bowels, and it did not matter where. Even the chamber pot looked terribly inviting. But aunt Rosa had me wait. She let me put my legs on the bathroom floor but told me to keep them bent at the knees.
While I waited and grit my teeth with each passing spasm, my aunt rubbed and massaged my belly, pressing gently here and there. She didn’t always add to my comfort I was so distended in certain places, but she certainly meant well. Apparently she couldn’t keep her hands off my prick either. From time to time she gave it a tweak or squeeze.
Finally I felt I could hold it no longer. I begged to let it all out. Grudgingly she relented. “All right dear, you go use the pot now. But normally we wait somewhat longer. This one time is OK, but from now on I want you to practice holding your lavage like a big boy. Understand ?”
I nodded and carefully scrambled to my knees. Hunched over I tried to relax and let the water flow out of my bottom gently. The pressure was however too great and it gushed out in one long streaming flow. I felt something push against my insides blocking the flow of water. I waited, primed my muscles and bore down again. My ass opened up and I expelled several days waste and muck. It came out in bits and spurts, plopping into the potty, followed by more.
By the time I finished I was quivering and covered in sweat. Aunt Rosa told me to wait a bit as more was surely to come. She was correct. Two more minor loads passed until I was empty.
My aunt briefly examined the contents of the pot, smiled at me and covered it up. She put it away in a corner. Standing up, she cleaned me off and shoed me into the bathtub. Remarkably the water was still agreeably warm and I gratefully sank in to my neck.
While I was soaking, my other ‘aunt’ Sophie came back. Together they cleaned up and set the equipment back in it’s place. I noticed that it was aunt Sophie who got to carry the chamber pot out.
My bath was just about as thorough as my internal lavage had been, but not half as memorable. The ladies both fiddled around excessively with my private parts, not entirely to my dissatisfaction mind you, but in any case to a degree that I was not accustomed to.
The bath finished I was dried off in a big fluffy towel and then rubbed in with scented talcum powder. For good measure, my aunt applied some lotion to my asshole. She told me it was just meant to sooth the opening. It did.
Brushing my teeth and combing my hair seemed such mundane activities after all the previous, that I felt vaguely unsure of what I was doing. This was just too normal.
But thankfully, it looked like that was all there was going to be tonight.
“Oh, look at the time !” Aunt Rosa exclaimed as I put the toothbrush away. “We must get you into bed. There’ll be time enough tomorrow for the other things.”
Those were my sentiments exactly and with a little bit of luck, my aunt might probably forget about ‘the other things’, whatever they were.
At last I was allowed to dress and though in a manner I welcomed the relief of being clothed once again, in another way I regretted it. All things considered nothing all that unpleasant had happened. Unusual yes, and naughty and arousing though I couldn’t really appreciate it at the time. I did however know that this was something I should probably best not tell my parents about.
Notes : Once again this is a mix of truth and fantasy. My European relatives had a disconcerting effect on my youthful libido, though I’m sure they never intended to do so. That is just the way things happen.
While on (constipated) vacation in Belgium I can vividly remember being dragged along to the pharmacist and having my grandmother or grand-aunt ask for a box of children’s ‘little candles’ (suppositories) in a very loud voice so all and sundry could hear. Maybe the neighborhood pharmacist was hard of hearing and everybody yelled, that could be, but I do recall turning several shades of red and wishing I had never left the comfort and warmth of summertime USA for this kind of vacation. The suppos were usually composed of glycerin and other irritants, though at times my relatives also used soap batons. Those were very effective indeed.
Afterwards I would be equally embarrassed if not more so, when I had to submit to the insertion of the purchased suppos. A semi-pubic bath followed, other relatives trooping unconcernedly through the bathroom to other parts of the house while my aunt or grandmother continued washing me very thoroughly all over. They always seemed to pay an inordinate amount of attention to my uncircumcised prick. Then again maybe they were just concerned about hygiene.
I was always very glad to leave them all behind and head back to the good ol’ US of A.
I have tried to add a bit of humor to this story by exaggerating here and there. My relatives were all very sweet and well meaning and aside from keeping me squeaky clean, also did their utmost best to spoil me rotten. Sad to say, they didn’t succeed. My mother would at some point put her foot down, have a row with her mother and/or aunt, drag me along with
her for several days until I got so on her nerves that she left me in their care again. Then we would start all over again.
A last comment : people in Europe weren’t really all that gullible as I make them out to be. Sure back in the 50s and 60s they had an exaggerated idea about American wealth and prosperity, but nobody actually believed that all the streets were paved with gold. Only those in Hollywood.