A Very Tully Christmas 3

By David

The author prefers not to display any email address. Please direct any feedback to [email protected] and it will be forwarded

* * * * *

A Very Tully Christmas

By David

The characters in this story are based on my series, Marlene and the Boy Next Door, which you can find at /~puericil/david.html

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *

Part Three

Still buried under the covers, Samuel Oliver trembled as he heard a familiar voice singing in the hallway. He quickly squeezed his eyes shut, his heart pounding painfully as footsteps approached the door and – thank goodness! – passed on down the hall. He could hear the bathroom door close, followed by the feminine humming and singing … and then the sound of the flushing toilet and running water. He heard more singing, followed by the opening of the bathroom door and more footsteps.

Please go away, he prayed desperately as he buried his face in his pillow. Please let this be a dream, please go away! Please let this be a dream … Please let this be a dream … PLEASE GO AWAY!!!

Eyes shut tight and clinching the covers, Samuel tried not to think about what was about to befall him. Even more important, he tried not to think about what happened the night before ….

***

Just as he predicted, his mother wasn’t gone more than five minutes before Mrs. Tully drug him upstairs and out of his clothes. She did so in her customary grandmotherly way, perfectly humming a happy holiday tune as she undid his belt, then the button to his pants and then his zipper. Without a word of protest twelve year old Samuel stepped out of the trousers that pooled about his feet and he stood willingly as the bosomy bully slowly removed the rest of his clothing, rendering him completely naked from head to toe.

“Nana is so happy you’re spending Christmas with her,” his grandmother cooed as she carefully folded his clothes and stacked them neatly on her lap. “Aren’t you glad to be here with your old Nana?”

“No!” The defiant boy crossed his arms and frowned. “I’d rather be going to Florida with my mom! This wasn’t … wasn’t supposed … to happen.”

“Oh, so what wasn’t supposed to happen? Spending the holidays with Nana? What’s so bad about that? All little boys love spending Christmas with their grandmothers. I bet your friends are all with their grandparents right now.”

Samuel felt his bottom lip quiver. It was true, many of his friends would be visiting their grandparents that very evening. He wiped a tear from his eye.

“Not like this,” the naked boy whispered with a hoarse voice. “It’s not supposed to be like this ….”

The old woman looked down at Samuel with a mocking pouty face. He hated when she looked at him like that. It just made him so mad!

“Oh, you poor little abused thing,” she said sweetly. In any other circumstances she might have been more convincing and a little less threatening. “To think you’re going to have to spend Christmas with your ugly old Nana. How horrible! That is just the most awful thing I ever heard of!”

With the speed of a snake attacking a mouse, Mrs. Tully suddenly pulled him close, forcing his face into her gigantic bosom and giving him a tight, smothering hug. The low cut of her dress put his nose and mouth right in the middle of her huge freckled breasts, the soft, lilac scented skin completely sealing off his breathing. Normally he knew to take a deep breath before getting hugged by his babysitter, but his timing was off and he was caught short. He struggled to pull away and catch his breath, but a powerful hand grabbed his curly locks and forcefully pressed his head forward into that magnificent chest, preventing him from getting any air.

“Nana-mmmph!! *gasp* Pleaf-mmmph!! *gasp!* Can’t … breave-mmph!!!”

The poor boy tried not to panic and instead fought to relax, but that was impossible; he could feel his babysitter’s other hand tickling the backs of his bare legs and his naked bottom, causing him to squirm and writhe in alarm. The harder he struggled the more anxious he got and the more oxygen he needed. His lungs felt like they were about to burst and for a moment he thought he would pass out from the lack of air. It was like being caught in the clenches of a cruel, overly attentive octopus bent on smothering her prey before consuming it.

“MMMMPH!!! *gasp* Nanaaaaaa-mmmph!”

“Oh, don’t be such a sour puss, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully sang as she tightly squeezed the helpless boy’s face tight in between her breasts. “Turn that frown upside down, because no matter what you think, you and I are going to have the best time! Just you wait and see. Nana has big plans for her pretty little Christmas angel, oh yes she does! Oh yes she does! Just you wait and see, baby doll.”

At long last the panicked boy was released. He wheezed and gasped as he caught his breath. Tears from nearly suffocating filled his eyes and his nose ran like crazy as he gratefully sucked in fresh air. A tissue was produced and he obediently blew his nose into it, just like a little child. Another tissue later and his eyes were wiped clear and his nose blown one more time, just to be sure.

“Poor little thing,” Irma Tully whispered as she planted a flurry of kisses on Samuel’s wet, flushed face. “You’re so precious to me. You know Nana just loves her pretty little baby doll. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Samuel wiped his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Nana.”

The smiling babysitter leaned forward and gave him a little kiss on the lips. “And you love your Nana, too, don’t you, baby doll.”

“Yes, Nana,” the naked child whispered. He obligingly returned the kiss. As he pulled away he fought the urge to wipe old lady saliva from his lips. No need in making her mad for real.

“I love you, too.”

As soon as his clothes were folded and put away, the huge woman pulled him close and bent him over her immense aproned lap. He felt like a rag doll as she arranged him just so, spreading his legs apart and giving his bare bottom a playful tweak. Still weak from nearly smothering to death, Samuel didn’t bother to resist. He knew exactly what was coming next and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

It was time for one of Mrs. Tully’s famous “warning spankings.”

Ugh!

“Do we have to do this … already …?” he asked in as delicate a manner as possible. He looked up over his shoulder and gave his captor a sad smile. “I’ve been good, Nana. I promise I have. I really promise.”

“These are Nana's rules, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully said brightly, as she always did. Samuel could see the amusement in her eyes and he hated her for being so deceptively cruel. “It's been so long since you were last here. Nana has to give you a ‘warning spanking’ to remind you what she will have to do if you are naughty. You should know that by now."

“But … I’ll be good, I promise, Nana,” the naked boy whispered softly. “I’ll do anything you say. Just please, no spanking. Please?”

“Mmmm … poor little child,” the delightful woman sang. “Is Nana’s pretty baby doll scared to get a little spanky spanky on his bumpity bum bum? Is that what this is all about. Don’t you worry, baby doll. Nana’s not mad at you. She’s doing this because she loves you so very much!”

Samuel felt awful as his bare bottom was caressed with loving care, his face burning hot while his grandmother’s strong hands parted his cheeks. He gasped with surprise as playful fingertips touched and lingered over his butthole, triggering a shiver up his naked spine.

“Oh, gosh … Nana,” he squeaked. He tried not to think about what might happen next. “That … that tickles.”

Mrs. Tully giggled. “My pretty little boy likes it when Nana plays with his little ‘rosebud,’ doesn’t he? Hmm? Hmmm? Oh yes he does! Oh yes he does!”

Samuel tried not to squirm as his “rosebud” was so rudely massaged and examined. He thought about what his babysitter said about his friends spending the holidays with their grandparents. He truly doubted any of them would be bent naked over their grandmother’s lap, getting their buttholes poked.

Why is everybody so interested in my butt, he wondered as he lay across the bosomy bully’s ample lap. I’m way too old for this. I’m … this isn’t … oh, gosh … that really … tickles ….

The truth of the matter was that while being touched between the legs – especially up the butt! – was most definitely embarrassing for twelve year old Samuel Oliver, after a while it began to feel somewhat comforting. Sometimes, he had to confess, it actually kinda sorta felt good. He would never admit it, of course. Not willingly, at least. But still … like right then, he couldn’t really complain. If it wasn’t just so darned embarrassing!

“That’s right, Nana’s little baby just loves getting his bottom poked ….”

The caresses up and down his thighs and buttocks went on for quite some time. As he lay across his babysitter’s lap Samuel felt himself relax and his bottom open up, and the mischievous fingers danced across his exposed sphincter, teasing and playing and feeling ever so nice. This was a lot better than getting one of those awful “warning spankings.” Maybe this was part of his Christmas surprise. Samuel smiled. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, being poked rather than spanked. As long as nobody else knew, he could live with that. Though he knew better than to let his guard down, the smiling lad allowed himself to relax and he almost … dozed … off ….

A sudden WHAP! hurt his ears and a sensation like fire lit up his bare bottom.

“OW!!! NANA!!!”

“Wakey wakey!” sang the cruel Mrs. Tully. “Time for your spanky spanky!”

Samuel held his breath for a moment and waited. In his momentary bliss he’d forgotten where he was and why he was there. That stupid “warning spanking.” He braced himself for the next blow, his eyes watering from the stinging sensation that burned his bare bottom.

Why did she always take so long? Why did she wait and let it hurt like that? Why couldn’t she just get it over wi- ….

WHACK! A second slap was carefully and meticulously followed by a third and then a fourth. Within seconds his rear end was flaming red hot. Try as he did to control his tears and not cry, by the fifth blow he was sobbing like a child half his age and begging for mercy.

“Please, Nana, no spanks … no spanks ….” he bawled as blow after blow – in a long and slow progression – stung his soft, plump cheeks.

WHAP! SMACK! CRACK! SLAP!

“It hurts! It hurts, oh, Nana … OH GOD!!! NANA!!! IT HURTS!!!!”

As usual, Samuel’s sniveling was completely useless. Here he was, nearly a teenager, trapped at the mercy of the cruel, bullying babysitter with no escape. Oh, how he wanted to get up and run away, but there was nowhere else for him to go. Where could he go, clad only in his birthday suit, his mother miles away and snow outside to prevent his escape.

Why me, he thought as he hugged tight to his grandmother’s lap.

The sobbing boy felt like a little child under his babysitter’s cruel control. For the next several minutes he would endure as many smacks and blows as she saw fit to deliver. He knew how it went, all too well, but that didn’t stop him from screaming from the pure pain of it all.

“It hurts! It hurts, oh, Nana … IT HURTS!” he sobbed repeatedly. “Please, Nana … no more spanks … no more spanks ….”

The good news was that Mrs. Tully was using her bare hand, forgoing the heavy hairbrush that she used to warm his bottom the past several visits. The bad news was that the desperate boy lost count after twenty-five licks. His “warning spanking” went on long after that and he knew from bitter experience he would have trouble sitting down for the remainder of the evening; unlike his mother’s soft, delicate hands, Nana had the hands of a farmer, their texture fierce and cruel against the supple, tender skin on Samuel’s aching bottom.

“Please, Nana, no more spanking, okay?” the seventh grader begged at the end of what turned out to be a world class whipping. Standing before the smiling woman in his bare skin, rubbing tears and snot from his face, he felt five years old again. “I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be extra good. I’ll do anything you say, just no more spanking. Pleeeeeassssse?”

Samuel felt foolish as the cheerful babysitter pulled him close. He took a quick breath and held it tight, just in case, to keep from being smothered. But this time it was a warm, loving embrace. If it wasn’t for the fiery pain that burned his bare bottom, he might have enjoyed the sensation of his babysitter’s hand caressing his bare back and the soft, moist kisses being planted across his tear stained face.

“Poor little thing,” Mrs. Tully said in a sugary, grandmotherly tone of voice. “Don’t you worry about a single thing. We’re going to have such a lovely time, baby doll. Just you wait and see. It’s just you and me, sweetheart … just Nana and her little baby doll … all week long ….”

***

As he lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling Samuel recalled the traditional visit to the bathroom that always followed his “warning spankings.” The naked youngster squirmed and writhed in his bed as he relived the humiliation he experienced under his grandmother’s mischievous hands; the embarrassing inspection from the top of his curly head, to his face and lips to his bare feet and toes; there was the playful probing between his legs and cheeks, of course; and finally, the debilitating, never-ending series of enema after enema after enema that always preceded his bath.

The troubled lad curled up under the covers and pondered over how this seemingly pleasant old lady could so easily render him helpless over the past several months, turning him into an obedient little pet to tease and torment at her pleasure. He thought about the stories he’d heard of prisoners of war being the subjects of horrible experiments and torture. He wondered if anybody else ever went through the things he did.

Samuel was particularly haunted by the image of his adopted grandmother brandishing that dreadful nozzle before his eyes; the next step, of course, was slipping the intrusive instrument deep in between his butt cheeks and filling his bowels up with warm soapy water. The sensation of the sudsy solution flowing involuntarily through his body was both disturbing and strangely exciting. The only thing worse was sitting on the toilet, cramping in pain as his body voided itself of all of that dreaded “boyish nastiness.”

“God, I hate that,” he whispered into the lavender scented pillow. He pictured his babysitter standing over him and grinning triumphantly while he pooped. “That is so embarrassing! Oh gosh, how I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!”

The longer Samuel lay in bed the more anxious he felt. As the impatient youngster waited for dawn he thought about all of the things that happened at the hands of the dreaded Mrs. Tully; from the forced nudity to the painful spankings and the unwanted touching, they all affected him in all aspects of his life. At home, at school, even in his dreams.

His dreams. Ah, yes, now that was an interesting topic. Talk about confusing! For the past several months our young adventurer had the most fascinating and bizarre dreams. Some good, some bad. Well, maybe some not so bad.

Samuel’s dreams almost always left him naked and trapped in the queerest situations. In some he might find himself at school with his friends, and suddenly he would realize he was in his birthday suit, his bare bottom and penis exposed to everyone’s view. He would try to run, but giggling girls with teasing comments and mocking faces would block his escape, pinching and tickling him all over, leaving him breathless and red-faced when he woke in the morning.

In other dreams Samuel was alone in some strange old fairy tale house or castle, much like those in his favorite books and movies. He usually found himself barefoot and bare bottomed, lost in some creepy forest or dark cavernous hallway. Pursued by an army of impish goblins, the naked child would be whisked away to their leader, a huge monstrous thing with an appetite for naughty boys. Samuel would squirm in his sleep as dozens of tiny hands held his arms and legs spread wide apart and curious slimy tentacles prodded and poked him in the most uncomfortable places.

As bad as these nightmares may sound, the fact was, well, that Samuel didn’t exactly hate his dreams. Please don’t tell anyone this, but he actually kind of … um, enjoyed … certain aspects of his naughty nocturnal adventures. While he didn’t quite understand everything that happened in them, he thought about them way too much and found an odd, erotic pleasure in playing them over and over again in his mind.

Unfortunately for our young hero, that wasn’t the worst of his worries. You see, as much as Samuel Oliver complained about being mistreated and abused by his grandmother, a part of him actually liked – yes, I said LIKED! – some of the things she did to him. The poor boy couldn’t help but feel a guilty thrill of anticipation shoot through his young body whenever he faced his smiling babysitter and her newest nozzle and rubber bag. The prospect of being controlled in such a rude, simple way caused his knees to go weak and his stomach to flutter. Yes, it was humiliating … but, oh my goodness, did it ever feel so good!

This was the same kind of humiliation he felt following a fierce spanking, when Mrs. Tully would rub lotion into the burning flesh of his aching bottom, and her fingers would part his cheeks and playfully tickle and tease his little “rosebud.” As ashamed as he felt during each of these sessions, he would willingly open himself up to her inspection and allow the curious fingers to penetrate his defenses. The end result was usually an aching butthole and an indelible imprint on his young impressionable mind that would never go away.

Being twelve years old and on the cusp of adolescence may have had some influence in Samuel’s obsession as his body was waking up to all sorts of new sensations and feelings. Just as he despised doing chores in his bare skin and being put on display in front ugly old Mrs. Haggard or that stupid, ugly Marlene, there was a little part of him, just the tiniest bit, that got a bit of a thrill from the idea of parading about in his birthday suit.

“I can’t help it!” he muttered as he squirmed under the covers. “What the heck is wrong with me?”

Yes, Samuel hated Mrs. Tully and Mrs. Haggard and Marlene. And he really hated how awful they treated him. But when he was all alone with his thoughts, usually when he was trying to sleep, he would remember the teasing remarks and leering smirks … and he would get this weird, squirmy feeling inside and his face would burn and he would squirt his boyish passions right there in his bed!

All of this excitement and confusion was maddening! Just the simple image of himself standing naked before the bullying Marlene was enough to cause him to get the most horrible erection. The way she would boss him around and make fun of him was so hurtful … but oddly exciting. Sometimes – if Samuel knew his mother wouldn’t catch him – he would masturbate while thinking about the freckle faced girl’s condescending smile and petty comments. The resulting sensation was enough to take his breath away.

Why am I always thinking about her being mean to me, he wondered in his mind. That, indeed, was the question. In real life the bossy Marlene beat his bare bottom and even helped him get an enema, but she didn’t even have to touch him in his fantasy. All he had to do was stand there and let her look him up and down, like a work of art, and he’d feel faint and helpless with excitement. Why was that? Why did he find such odd things so … so comforting? Almost … enjoyable?

It was all too complicated, so much that it made Samuel’s head spin.

“She’s not even pretty,” the frustrated boy whispered as he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and was soon reliving the experience of standing in his birthday suit in front of the bossy little girl from next door, enduring the bright, curious gleam in her eyes and the musical sound of her mocking laughter.

“I just can’t help it …,” he mumbled as he drifted back to sleep.

***

Irma Tully hummed a joyful tune as she looked about the living room. Everything was perfect. The tall tree with its glistening tinsel and ornaments was perfect, the warm flames in the fireplace were perfect, and the delicious smells coming from the kitchen were perfect. Everything was perfect as perfect could be.

“Oooooo, this is just perfect, perfect, perfect!” she said aloud. “My little baby doll is in for such a wonderful surprise. He won’t know what to think when he finds out what all I’ve got in store for him. This is going to be the most perfect Christmas ever!”

Taking up humming the Christmas melody where she left off, the plump matron stood before the hall mirror and primped and plucked at her clothes. She had to laugh. She looked exactly like Mrs. Santa Claus, from her graying hair piled atop her head to the red velvet and white fur trim of her dress. For an instant she imagined Samuel standing next to her in his bare skin and she let loose a lilting laugh punctuated by a naughty giggle. Deep with her rotund, grandmotherly body she felt as giddy and lighthearted as a school girl.

“Oooooo, he’s going to look sooooo cuuuuuute! So sweet, so cute! So … so perfect! This is going to a perfect, perfect, perfect day!”

The glowing woman took a deep breath and then gave an impatient glance at the clock on the mantle. It would be hours before the sun came up. No matter. There was so much to do and only so much time in the day to do them.

“Time to get my baby doll and ready for a wonderful, marvelous Christmas day!” She rubbed her hands together greedily. “Rise and shine, baby doll. Rise and shine!”

***

Samuel Oliver was a deep sleep, and a very odd dream ….

“Come on, Sam! You’re dragging behind. You don’t want to be late for the kick off, do you? Come on, son! Get a move on!”

The youngster looked out the window to see his father standing by his pickup truck. A tall, muscular man with a two-day growth of beard and an impatient scowl, Mr. Oliver pointed at his watch and glowered at his loitering son.

“Sam, I swear to god, if you don’t come right now I’m leaving without you. I’m serious. I’m not missing this ball game because of you. Are you going with me or not?”

The nervous boy bit his lip. He wanted to go with his father – oh, how he wanted to go with him, anything to get out of this awful house! – but something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Things … just didn’t feel right. He tried to move his feet but they refused to move. He looked down to see that they were bare.

What’s up with that, he thought to himself.

“Sam Oliver! I said for you to move your ass, little mister! Are you coming or not?”

“Sorry, Dad. I’m coming. Don’t leave without me!”

The next thing Samuel knew he was standing on the front porch. His father was looking at him with an incredulous expression on his face.

“Sam, for god’s sake son, you’re not coming like that, are you? Get some clothes on! What are you, some kind of sissy? Hurry up! Are you coming or not?”

A cool gust of wind prompted Samuel to look down. That’s when he realized he was nearly nude. All that he wore was a tiny, ridiculous little crop top t-shirt that barely reached his belly button. The rest of him – his belly, his legs, his hips and butt and his genitals – every other bit of him was stark raving naked!

Naked? What the heck? Where the heck are my clothes? I can’t be outside without my pants!

The confused child looked up to see a crowd of people forming along the sidewalk. Everyone, his classmates, his baseball team, his relatives, everyone he knew, was staring at him, all with huge smiles on their faces. He tried to cover himself with his hands, but that didn’t help much. Tugging at the skimpy t-shirt proved equally futile.

“Dad? Where are you?” he cried. He felt ridiculous standing in front so many people with his bare butt hanging out.

“Hey, sissy boy!” his father’s voice called out to him. “One more time. Are you coming or not?”

Samuel looked over, expecting to see his dad. Instead he saw Marlene Miller, with her goofy eyeglasses and freckled face, pointing and laughing at him. Her shiny braces would normally look ridiculous, but not so much considering his predicament.

“Uh-oooooh, I see somebody’s bare bottom,” teased the ugly girl. “I’m telling on you-ooooo!”

“You shut up!” the panicked boy cried. “Leave me alone! I hate you!”

“But I looooove yoooooouuu,” cooed the freckled faced girl. “Why don’t you come over and see me? We can play your favorite game.”

Marlene held up her hand. Samuel was horrified to see her holding a pink rubber bulb with a white fluted nozzle. His stomach fluttered something awful and his knees went weak and he got so dizzy he almost fell down.

“Come on, baby doll,” Marlene cooed. “Let’s have some fun ….”

“But I don’t wanna ….” he whined softly.

Samuel looked desperately about for his father. He finally found him, sitting in the front seat of his truck and preparing to drive off.

“Dad! Don’t leave me here like this! Don’t leave me!”

“Well, sissy boy? Are you coming or not?” his father called out. “You better not be late. I’m leaving you with your mother if you don’t hurry up!”

The blushing lad stepped off the porch. He wanted to walk to the truck and escape from this madness with his father, but his body wouldn’t obey. Instead he headed slowly toward the smirking girl, his bare feet ticklish against the cool damp grass. Clad only in the crop topped shirt, naked from his belly button to his toes, he felt clownish and ashamed.

“Come on, baby doll,” the giggling girl said. She waved the horrid nozzle at him in a teasing manner. “Your bare bottom is mine!”

His father started up the truck. “Sam! I’m leaving. If you’re not coming I’m leaving and you’re on your own. Do you hear me? You’re on your own.

Samuel Oliver felt like crying. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” he called out to his father. “I want to go with you, but I can’t help it. I’m sorry … but I just can’t help it.”

With his bare bottom and front exposed to everyone’s view, the humiliated child wanted to cover his shame. Instead, Marlene took both of his hands in hers. He felt a wave of panic sweep over him as he followed her toward the noise and confusion of the crowd of people before them.

“Come along, baby doll,” an adult feminine voice whispered in his ear. “Today is going to be a big day for you. We’re going to have so much fun you won’t be able to stand it!”

As he woke up he was whispering, “Not me … not like this … not like this … not for me … not for me ….”

***

Samuel Oliver opened his eyes. He held his breath as he realized a sudden silence had fallen over the house. Even the music stopped. Someone was in the hallway, he could tell, lurking, silent and ominous.

Am I still asleep? Was that a dream? Is *this* a dream? How can I be sure?

Resorting to the obvious, he gave the soft flesh of his arm a hard pinch. Ow! Yep, he was awake, all right. Wide awake. And trapped. In Mrs. Tully’s house. On Christmas morning.

What a way to spend his Christmas vacation.

Coiling his naked body into a tight ball under the covers, Samuel held his breath and listened. She was right outside the door, he could tell. She always did that kind of stuff and it drove him crazy. He waited, not moving and barely breathing, for her to enter. But she didn’t. Not just yet. He knew she was there, staring at him with those predatory lizard eyes, her cruel brain contemplating some horrible torment for him to endure.

Why didn’t she get it over with and come on in, he thought. Why did she have to play all these mind games with him? What was she doing, just standing there? Was she watching him? Listening to him? What was she doing? Why didn’t she just come on in and wake him up?

“God, I wish this was all over with,” he whispered to himself so softly that he could barely hear his own words. “I just want to go home ….”

At last it happened. After the longest while the floor finally creaked and a lilting, cheerful grandmotherly voice called out to him.

“Come along, baby doll. Today is going to be a big day for you. We’re going to have so much fun you won’t be able to stand it!”

Samuel felt a shiver creep down his naked spine. That voice … it sounded so familiar.

Ah, yes. The dream. Just like in that stupid, scary dream.

“Not me … not like this … not like this … not for me ….” he whispered to no one in particular.

“Come along, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully sang. “Nana knows you’re awake. Nana knows everything, remember? You can’t fool your old Nana. Come along now. It’s time to get up and see what Santy brought you. Come on, sweetheart. Don’t keep Nana waaaai-tiiiiiiiing.”

The overhead light came on and Samuel Oliver blinked his bleary blue eyes. He then looked up to see the notorious Irma Tully standing over him. Her fat, smirking face was enough to make his stomach flutter with fear. She might have been pretty once, a lifetime ago, perhaps, but not now. Her bulldog face curled into a grotesque, mischievous smile, one that he recognized all too well. She was ready to play, and he knew from bitter experience that did not bode well for him.

“There’s my precious little boy. Such a pretty, pretty thing,” the grinning woman said, pulling the covers off the bed and exposing the naked child to the chill of the morning. The cold air shocked him wide awake and a layer of goose bumps covered his bare body. “Get up, you sleep head! It’s Christmas day! You don’t want to spend all day in bed on Christmas, do you?”

Samuel suddenly felt foolish. He hadn’t noticed at first, but Mrs. Tully’s costume for the day was as ridiculous and inappropriate as was his predicament. While he was laid out on top of the bed completely naked and exposed to the cool morning air, his grandmother was attired in a bright red dress with white trim that emphasized her huge bosom. With huge jowls and wormlike lips, she reminded him of a demented Mrs. Claus. The resemblance was uncanny!

“You like my dress, don’t you?” the old woman chuckled. “Isn’t it perfect? The perfect dress for a perfect day!”

Samuel couldn’t take his eyes off the incredible sight before him, try as he might. It was like looking at a car wreck, only this was way more dangerous than any automobile accident. Despite her festive holiday attire, he knew the deceitful babysitter for what she was, an evil troublemaker with a penchant for deception. Forget the festive mood and the smiles and cheerful words. Those weren’t real, the delight in her voice, the loving look in her eyes, none of that was real. She wasn’t sweet, she wasn’t kind, she wasn’t nice at all; she was evil, deceptive and just a plain old bully!

Oh my gosh, the wide eyed boy thought. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all!

Samuel had good reason worry. After all he’d been through the past few months, who knew what horrible plan this crazy old woman had in store for him now! Sure, it was Christmas Day all right, but that didn’t mean anything to Old Lady Tully. She had a penchant for taking the thing that he loved and ruining it with as little as a word. She did it on the first day they met and just about every day they spent together since. And now it was Christmas day, the best day of the year, and it was obvious she intended to ruin that for him, too.

“Come on, baby doll … Nana Claus is waiting. Time to get up!”

The worried boy brushed his long blond hair from his eyes and tried not to look at the sarcastic face above him. He’d seen that expression before, oh, so many times, and it made his stomach spin with nausea.

“Do I have to already?” he pleaded, knowing very well his protest was in vain.

“Sure you do, baby doll! It’s Christmas Day! Where’s that Christmas spirit?”

The naked child felt a shiver as his grandmother’s eyes traveled down his body and lingered between his legs. He rolled over onto his stomach.

“I don’t have any Christmas spirit,” he said with a pout.

SMACK!!!

Samuel squealed as something fiery hot hit his bare bottom. He knew what it was right away; his grandmother’s bare hand, weathered and tough as leather, left an aching red print on his soft, plump butt.

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that!” The brightly dressed woman looked down at him with a huge smile on her face. “Time to get up, baby doll! It’s time for some fun fun fun!”

“Nana-a-a-a,” the naked boy whined, curling up in a tight protective posture. He knew what was coming next and he braced himself for the inevitable.

Irma Tully reached down with her old, claw-like hands, fingers outstretched and wriggling playfully just inches away from the panicked child’s eyes.

“Oh, Nana’s little baby doll wants help waking up,” the old woman said with a giggle.

She reached down and gave him a hard pinch on his nipple, then went into a full attack on his naked body. Samuel tried in vain to fend her off as she tickled his ribs with one hand and his exposed bottom with the other. She looked so ridiculous in her red and white dress and acting so strangely. It was like being molested by a cartoon character.

“Better watch out! Nana Claus is going to get you!”

“Nana, no! Wait, I’m getting up! I’m getting up! Please, no! I promise, I’m getting up! I’m getting up!!!”

“Don’t be a fussy pants, sweetheart. Nana’s just having fun. Wakey-wakey, it’s time for Nana’s baby doll to get up! It’s Christmas morning!”

Samuel tried his best to resist, but the evil “Nana Claus” was too much for him. Despite his fear and anxiety, the poor boy couldn’t help but giggle and laugh under the onslaught of relentless poking and prodding and tickling. He screamed and he shrieked for mercy, but it never came.

“Nana, no! Please … don’t *gasp!!!* Please don’t tickle … AAAAGH!!! *GASP* PLEASE DON’T TICKLE ME!!!!”

Samuel’s cries were in vain, as were his efforts to resist his tormentor’s unwanted touching. She knew exactly which buttons to push and he squirmed helplessly in the throes of tortuous, tearful laughter.

“NANAAAAHAHAAHAHA!!! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE ME!!!!”

A few more playful pokes here, some teasing tweaks there, and in a matter of seconds the hysterical lad’s body was limp with exhaustion and totally submissive.

“I’m getting up!” he cried out desperately. “I’m … *gasp!* I’m getting up. I promise I’m *gasp!* getting up!”

“Now that’s my pretty baby doll! Seen, Nana knows what you like. You’re so adorable when you smile and laugh for her.” Mrs. Tully shook her head, causing her huge breasts to wobble back and forth under the low cut bodice of her holiday dress. “Now come on and get up! We’ve got a big day ahead of us! It’s Christmas morning, for pity’s sake! Get up, you lazy boy, and get a move on!”

Too weak to fight, too intimidated to run, young Samuel sat up on the edge of the bed and involuntarily stretched. Still weary, he was as vulnerable and uncertain as a newborn fawn as he stood up and stretched again. He blushed when he realized his grandmother was watching his every movement. She looked like a life-sized holiday decoration in her red and white costume, her eyes alight with pleasure.

“Such a pretty baby doll! It’s no wonder Nana loves you soooo much!”

The youngster couldn’t help but shiver as he automatically helped his grandmother make the bed. The bedroom air was cold with occasional gusts of warmth here and there. He rubbed his arms and legs and marveled to felt the gooseflesh under his hands. The furnace hadn’t been on for very long and so his naked body reacted to the coolness with a series of shivers from his head to his toes. He would have preferred getting dressed before doing his chores, but he knew better than to complain. This was just the way things went when he stayed with his grandmother.

“Good job,” the old woman said as they finished putting the last pillow in place. She turned toward the naked boy and smiled. “You are such a joy to have around. Come here and give Nana a big hug! Come on, don’t be shy, baby doll. Come give Nana a big old huggy wuggy!”

Samuel stood awkwardly as his grandmother held out her arms. Why did she have to talk like that? For an instant he thought about his dream and how humiliating it was to be naked in front of other people. Especially a crazy Mrs. Santa Claus.

Here we go, he thought, his mind spinning a mile a minute as the gentle bully enclosed him in a powerfully fierce embrace. He tried not to wince as her arms squeezed him tight, holding him against the red Christmas dress so hard he could barely breathe. It always amazed him how this fat old lady exterior could conceal such power and vigor.

“Ooooo, that’s feel so nice. It’s always nice to get a hug from my pretty baby doll. Now give Nana a nice kissy poo.”

Samuel felt like a little child as his grandmother brushed his hair back over his ears; the look on her face was almost loving. He then winced as the old woman moved in close and smeared her slimy mouth over his still-sleepy face, peppering kisses across his cheeks, nose, eyes and forehead. A firm hand forced him to look upward; he almost gagged as the worm-like lips pressed against his mouth in a long smothering kiss.

"Mmmmph ... Nana ... *gasp!* I … I can't ... breathe ...!"

“Mmmmmm, silly boy!" The overbearing woman laid a second, even sloppier kiss on the horrified boy's lips. After nearly smothering him again she let loose with a girlish laugh.

"Nana is so happy to have her pretty little angel here on Christmas morning! We are going to have soooo much fuuuun, you won’t be able to stand it!”

The poor boy braced himself for yet another smearing kiss on the mouth. This time, instead, a powerful hand pressed against the back of his head, forcing his face deep in between the cheerful matron’s breasts. The white faux fur got caught in his mouth and nose, very nearly choking him. He tried not to struggle as curious hands roamed over his naked body, but he couldn’t help it.

“Nana … mmmmmph!!! *gasp!* Can’t … *gasp!* … breathe ….”

Only when he finally calmed down and let the matronly bully run her hands freely did he get released from her smothering grip.

“I just love hugging my little baby doll! Now, let’s go to the bathroom and get ready for the day. Then we’ll trot downstairs and see what Santy brought Nana’s pretty little boy!”

Weak and demoralized, Samuel Oliver gave a sad nod. Today was definitely not going to be a good day.

***

Next door Marlene Miller was rousing from sleep, bundled up in her bed and thinking about the day that was to come.

Yay, it’s Christmas morning, the freckle-faced girl thought excitedly. I can’t wait to see the tree all lit up and looking pretty. I wonder if Mom and Aunt Margaret are already up? I wonder if it snowed? I wonder ….

Marlene’s eyes suddenly popped open. It was still dark and the house was cool and silent. Grinning broadly, she stretched in her bed and looked toward the window facing the little house at the end of the lane. Not surprisingly, every light was on despite the early hour.

“I wonder if Samuel is having a nice Christmas?” she whispered aloud. “I bet Christmas in Mrs. Tully’s house would be pretty exciting, especially for that prissy little brat!” She giggled at the thought of the blond boy in the clutches of the kindly old neighbor lady. “Too bad our little 'baby doll' doesn’t live there all the time. That would be the best present of all, especially for me!”

An idea suddenly struck her. The giddy girl quickly got out of bed and grabbed her father’s field glasses. She focused the high grade military lenses in all the usual places – living room, bedroom, kitchen – but to no avail.

"They're probably in the bathroom," she whispered to herself. "I bet ‘Samantha’ is REALLY enjoying that!"

Marlene returned to her bed, put away the binoculars and got back under the covers. She stretched her young body and yawned. Then she stretched again and closed her eyes. She’d get up in a little while, but her thoughts were running wild and she had some imagining to do.

“It’s probably too late,” she said wistfully, “but I know what I want for Christmas ….”

To be continued ….

(The End)