A Very Tully Christmas 7

By David

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

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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

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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.
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Part Seven

Samuel Oliver was not having a very good Christmas. The reluctant schoolboy trailed behind the immense figure of his babysitter as they made their way in single file toward Marlene Miller’s house. His scantily clad body shivered from the chill of the morning and his plump, cherubic face flushed with shame. He couldn’t believe he was outside on Christmas morning, tromping through the snow dressed like a … a … a complete idiot!

Yuk! I hate my life right now, he thought to himself. Why me? Why does stuff like this keep on happening to me? And on Christmas?

The flustered lad looked down at his attire and sighed. He did not like what he saw.

God, I hate myself right now. This is just plain awful!

A blanket of fluffy white snow muffled the sounds of the morning, giving the quiet neighborhood an eerie, otherworldly feel. As they walked along the sidewalk the shivering boy looked over his shoulder, anxious and afraid of being recognized. Thank goodness it was still too early to be out and about. Well, for most people, anyway.

A modest dusting of snowflakes lit up the morning sky, the tiny icy crystals tickling Samuel’s nose and the vulnerable back of his bare legs. A cool gust of air raised gooseflesh all over his naked thighs and he felt his pitiful privates, desperate to keep warm, withdraw into his body. His attire – well, his costume, to be more accurate – did not offer much in protection from the elements … or anything else.

And what was our young hero wearing that was so awful you might ask? Well, to tell you now would be to spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say that while it might have been appropriate for the season, it was undoubtedly the most inappropriate costume for any boy to ever be seen wearing. Not on Christmas morning, nor any other day of the year!

Adding to the weirdness of his predicament, the musical sound of tiny bells followed the angry youngster with every step he took, a comical contrast to the awful misery he felt. He glanced down at the skimpy, silly looking shoes on his feet with the little ringing clusters of silver adorning the toes and sighed. No matter how careful he was, no matter how slowly he tried to move or how light his tread, that humiliating, childish ringing announced his every step, his every move.

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

Stupid bells! Gah, I hate them! I hate these stupid shoes! I hate … I hate …

I HATE CHRISTMAS!!!

Suffice it to say that Samuel Oliver was one unhappy boy. First there was that ridiculous, incessant tinkling of tiny silver bells that followed him wherever he went. And then there was how the side of his face tickled from the faux fur trimming the hood that covered his head and how his ribs were sore from the pressure of the wide, tight belt that encircled his chest. Adding to his discomfort, he felt practically naked from the waist on down, not exactly fun in the cold winter air. The good news – well, for Samuel, not us – is that for the first time since arriving at his grandmother’s house he wasn’t exactly naked. Well, most of him, anyway.

The day was still young, of course.

Stupid Christmas! Stupid Mrs. Tully! I’m twelve years old, not five! Why does she treat me like a little kid all the time? Gah, I hate Christmas! I wish I was a million miles away from here!

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

As if matters weren’t complicated enough, Samuel’s arms were getting tired as he stumbled along behind his grandmother. In his trembling hands was a large, heavy platter, elegantly protected by an even larger and heavier silver domed cover. Slung on one elbow was a gigantic paper shopping bag filled with gaily colored gifts tied up in bright paper and ribbons; hanging from the other was a comically oversized lady’s handbag, as big as small suitcase, all decorated with a Santa Claus Christmas motif. The youngster’s arms ached under the burdensome load; he’d been carrying it for at only ten minutes at the most, but already he could feel a numbness setting in his wrists and forearms.

Stupid woman, he thought impatiently as he struggled to follow his babysitter along the snow covered sidewalk. Why do I have to carry all the heavy stuff? And why can’t she carry her own darned purse!

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

Samuel sighed. As badly as he wanted to just drop everything and run back into the house, he didn’t dare. Bad things happened in that house. Belittling and intrusive things. Things that he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. (Well, except for Johnny Alford, who bullied him in fifth grade. That might have been fun, to see Johnny’s fat little butt get spanked and poked by the old witch!) But as much as Samuel dreaded what was ahead of him, what lay behind was … well, just awful.

I can’t believe she’s making me spend my Christmas like this! This is almost as bad as last Halloween! Well, almost ....

Samuel thought for a moment and shook his head as if to rid himself of a bad memory.

Okay, maybe Halloween was worse. Maybe. But this isn't any fun, either. All I know is that I just want to get it all over with as soon as possible. Then maybe I can go hide in my bed!

The angry child clenched his jaw in an effort to keep from screaming.

Blech! I feel like such a stupid idiot. What a horrible Christmas! I just wanna go home ….

Why did my mom leave me here like this ….?

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

Needless to say, poor Samuel’s morning hadn’t gone so well. First there was the ordeal of being awakened by Mrs. Tully in all of her cheerful, smothering glory. If he thought his babysitter was horrible enough on regular days, on Christmas she was ten times worse! There was tickling and kissing and cuddling and an extra special bath and … and … well, other things too horrible to think about at the moment. Oh, and don’t forget the surprise “warning spanking,” followed by even more hugging and kissing. That was always fun.

NOT!

“Stupid warning spankings,” he whispered under his breath. “Stupid hugging and kissing. And with that old witch! Blech!”

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

Samuel pouted as he followed his babysitter through the snow. Who could blame him for feeling miserable? You’d think that on Christmas morning at least getting presents would have been something to look forward to. Who doesn’t like presents, right? Well, the truth of the matter was that didn’t go so good, either. What normally was the most fun and exciting day of the year turned out to be the biggest disappointment of his life. So far.

I can’t believe my dad could screw things up for me like this, the frustrated boy thought to himself. Who cares about a bunch of stupid toys! Stupid GI Joe! I need a pair of pants that I can wear. That’s all I want, a stupid pair of pants that fit me!

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

Samuel felt his eyes burn, just a little bit. He sniffed back a tear and tried not to think about his father. That only made him sad.

All those clothes he bought me … and nothing fit? Not even a pair of underpants? Gah! Mom was right. He doesn’t really care about me. I so hate him right now!

The day hadn't been a complete loss, however. He did get a few presents from his mom, but they were pretty awful. And Mrs. Tully really went overboard with all the weird stuff she gave him. The problem was that everything they gave him was as degrading as it was inappropriate.

Looking up at the elephantine silhouette ahead of him, he couldn’t help but think about how the gifts he’d gotten from his mother and grandmother that morning were just plain wrong for a boy, any boy, much less one his age.

Geez, I can’t believe all that … that junk they bought, he thought ruefully. They don’t really expect me to … to wear all of those sissy clothes, do they? Or play with those dumb toys? I mean, did they really think I’d like ANY of that stupid stuff?

“There’s no fucking way ….,” he whispered so softly he could barely hear the words.

The contrite lad gritted his teeth. He rarely used the “F-word” – ever! – but he couldn’t help himself. His frustration was at an all-time high. He glanced down at the humiliating outfit he had on, shaking his head in despair. His cheeks warmed with embarrassment and a cold shiver shot up his spine. Or was that another gust of winter wind? No matter. He still couldn’t believe what he was wearing. He couldn’t believe he could look so … so … silly and childish.

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

Gah! It’s bad enough Mrs. Tully likes dressing me up like a sissy every time I come visit her, but this is just stupid! Why did my mom have to get into the act? Now they’re both ganging up on me and it’s just awful! I mean … it’s like they think I’m a little kid or something. I’m not a little kid. I’m not a sissy! And I’m not a baby!

I’m … I’m twelve, he repeated to himself. I’m almost a teenager, dammit! I’m not some little kid! And I’m not a sissy, dammit!

“I am not a sissy,” he whispered.

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

The flustered child shook his head as he made his way along the snowy path. His feet tickled as little bits of snow fell into his shoes. He so wished he had on his army boots. Snow never tickled his feet when he wore them.

“God, I hate Christmas,” he muttered under his breath. He made sure to speak softly enough so the bosomy babysitter didn’t hear him. For some reason it gave him a moment of satisfaction.

“Christmas sucks,” he fussed even louder. “I wish there wasn’t any such thing ….”

“Did you say something, baby doll?”

Mrs. Tully suddenly stopped and turned to look at him. Samuel froze in terror as the large woman stepped close and gave him a cold, penetrating stare. Crap! In his anger he let his voice get too loud and now his babysitter was suspicious. Judging from her expressionless face, he couldn’t tell for certain if she heard his complaining. He prayed she did not.

“Um, I was just … I dunno, humming a song … I guess, Nana.”

“Of course you were.” A mocking smile slowly spread over the bosomy bully’s lips. “A very pretty one, too, no doubt.”

Samuel shivered as he was reminded of the evil sorceress in a cartoon fairy tale. She knew. He could tell from the knowing glint in her eyes.

Holy crap! She knows. She knows everything, he thought to himself. How does she do that? Holy … I gotta be more careful.

The gaily attired woman beamed with happiness as Samuel squirmed uncomfortably before her gaze. “I’m so happy you’re with me this Christmas, baby doll. Isn’t it fun to be out in the snow on Christmas morning, on our way to spread some holiday cheer? Isn’t this the best, most fun thing ever? Don’t you just looooooove Christmas?”

Samuel nodded his head in reluctant agreement. Far be it from him to disagree with his adopted grandmother. The last time he did that he got his bottom blistered … and worse.

“Yes, Nana. This is lots of fun,” he squeaked in a not at all convincing voice.

The mischievous woman puckered up her lips, blew him a kiss and winked. She then turned about and the twosome resumed their trek.

Crunch, tinkle tinkle … crunch, tinkle tinkle ….

As I said before, poor little Samuel Oliver was not having a good Christmas.

At last the pair was standing on the Miller’s porch. All done up in her Christmas best, the ever effervescent Mrs. Tully was as cheerful as a schoolgirl. Samuel was embarrassed at how stupid his babysitter looked, almost as much as he was embarrassed of his own attire. Atop her head was a silly red elf hat with a white fur ball on the end, a perfect accessory for the garish red and white dress that covered her enormous body. She also wore Santa Claus earrings and her face glowed with rouge on her cheeks and bright red lipstick.

In the smiling woman’s hands was a large platter covered with a Christmassy dish towel decorated with snowflakes and candy canes. Samuel thought his babysitter looked like a crazy “Mrs. Claus” as she blew him yet another kiss, following that with the prerequisite wink.

“Don’t pout, princess.” She looked him up and down with an appreciative, gloating sneer. “Oh, baby doll, you look just darling in your little costume. Your mommy has such a good eye for these things. You are a perfect match for your old Nana.”

The quiet lad nodded, then shrugged. He hated it when his babysitter called him “princess,” but this was neither the time nor the place to bring that up.

“I cannot wait for Marlene and her family to see you! They are just going to love seeing you all dressed up like this. Of course, we have that little trick we’re going to play on them, remember? Won’t that be fun? Hmm? Hmmm?”

“I guess so,” he muttered with obvious discontent. More snow had gotten into his shoes and he felt his feet getting cold and wet. He tried kicking it out, but the ringing bells were just too embarrassing.

“What’s the matter, princess? Don’t you like your cute little outfit? Hmm? Hmmm? Don’t blame me if you don’t. You agreed to wear it, remember?”

“Yes, Nana.” The contrite boy nodded. Yes, he’d agreed to wear his new clothes and he agreed to his grandmother’s little game, but that was the lesser of all evils as far as he was concerned. He sulked as he thought about his other options; he could have definitely picked something much worse, that was for sure.

“You’re not smiling, baby doll.” Mrs. Tully smiled. “You’d best cheer up if you know what’s good for you. You can always go without your pretty costume, you know.”

“Go … without?” Samuel blinked at the mental image of himself prancing about naked in the snow. He didn’t like that at all. “You wouldn’t really make me do that … for real. Would you … Nana?”

“I most certainly would and you know it!” The happy woman giggled. “We’ve already had that discussion, baby doll. If you’re unhappy we’ll just go home and put away your cute little outfit and then bring you back over in your birthday suit. I bet Marlene and her family would enjoy seeing you no matter what you’re wearing. Think how sweet you’ll look standing under the mistletoe in your bare skin. They’ll just love that!”

Samuel cleared his voice and tried to look innocent. “I’m sorry, Nana. I like this just fine. It’s okay, I mean.”

“Just fine? Okay? Really? I still don’t see any smiles.” The bosomy bully raised a stern eyebrow. “What did Nana tell you about that? You’re not very enthusiastic, darling. Not at all.”

The anxious boy put on his happiest face, widening his eyes and forcing his lips to spread in a worried, desperate smile. “I’m sorry, Nana. I really am. I’ll do better. How’s this?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, baby doll.” Mrs. Tully’s face took on a skeptical expression. “This is Christmas morning and we’re visiting our friends to celebrate the holiday. You’ve got to do better than that. Put on your happy face, my little Christmas fairy. You’re supposed to be happy happy happy, not pouty pouty pouty. If you’re going to pout I can always give you something to pout about.”

The frustrated child forced himself to smile even harder, this time almost looking sincere. “How’s this, Nana? See, I’ve got a happy face,” he said in a somewhat convincing tone of voice. “And I really do like my costume! I promise! I love it love it love it! I promise!”

Samuel knew his performance wasn’t good enough when Mrs. Tully pursed her lips and clucked her tongue. “Well, you still don’t look very happy to me. And you don’t sound very happy, either. Do you remember what we talked about at the house? You need to show a little more gratitude. Maybe Nana needs to give her little sissy boy a quick reminder?”

That was all it took. If there was anything our young hero didn’t want, it was another “reminder” from his grandmother. His bottom still ached from the warning spanking she gave him just a few hours before. The worried seventh grader licked his lips and tried one more time. He did his best to think about something fun, his new GI Joe and toy rifle, getting away from Mrs. Tully and going back to school … anything to generate a genuine true to life smile.

“I’m sorry Nana, I didn’t mean to be a party pooper. I’m having fun, I promise! This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had! I promise!”

The scantily clad child hopped up and down with childlike enthusiasm, the bells on his feet jingling loudly as he did so. Giggling nervously, Samuel looked up at his babysitter with a wide eyes and his perfect, china white teeth gleaming through perky, pink lips. Inside his head he was simultaneously hopeful and terrified, but his cherubic face was the picture of enthusiasm.

The desperate lad’s efforts seemed to pay off; the bosomy matron replied with a sly smile and a nod of grandmotherly approval. She even gave him a playful, affectionate bump with her massive butt; the force of her immense weight almost caused him to lose his balance with the heavy platter in his hands.

“Ow, Nana!” Samuel fussed. He struggled to keep from dropping the huge tray in his hands. “Please … be careful! You almost made me fall down!”

“Oh, hush, child! You’re not hurt … stop being such a sissy crybaby.” The large woman laughed. “Now see, wasn’t that easy? I expect you to maintain that attitude the rest of the day, unless you want Nana to get upset with you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Nana,” Samuel replied from behind his faux smile.

“Well, be sure and keep it up, princess. Just because we’re in someone else’s home doesn’t mean Nana won’t pull you over her lap and smack that pretty little bottom.”

The chastened child nodded. “Yes, Nana.”

Mrs. Tully reached down and brushed Samuel’s curly blond hair out of his eyes. She then put her hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at her, right in the eye.

“You know what to do when the door opens, right?”

“Yes, Nana.”

“And you know what will happen if you misbehave, right? Nana will bare your fat little bottom and spank it hard if you don’t mind her. Understood? Don’t be a party pooper.”

Samuel shivered as the thought of being rendered naked and getting a paddling in front of his neighbors flashed through his mind. That would just ruin his Christmas. As if Christmas hadn’t been ruined already.

“Yes, Nana. I understand. I won’t be a … a party pooper.”

“Good boy.” The plump woman turned to face the Miller’s front door. “Now, let’s make this a happy, happy day, shall we … Samantha?”

The frustrated boy forced himself not to frown as his grandmother talked. That would have been a disaster. Especially after that little discussion. He focused full force on his “happy face,” spreading his pink lips into the brightest, most joyful smile he could render. He looked up at Mrs. Tully to make sure she saw he was in compliance. Inside, however, he was shaken to the core.

No matter how good I am, the old witch will still probably find a reason to spank my bare butt in front of these people, he thought as the bosomy babysitter pressed the doorbell. Gosh, I sure hope not! Please, oh please, not today. Not on Christmas day.

He bit his lip – just for an instant – as he prayed a little prayer.

Please, God … I don't want another spanking. Not on Christmas day!

The door suddenly swung open and a trio of voices suddenly cried out “Merry Christmas, neighbors! Merry Christmas!”

Samuel was shocked to see three bright and shining pairs of eyes set upon him. A burst of laughter startled him and he felt his grandmother’s sharp elbow in his ribs. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and then joined the delighted matron in singing. He started out shyly at first, but encouraged by another not so gentle nudge his voice slowly grew louder and louder:

“We wish you a merry Christmas!
We wish you a merry Christmas!
We wish you a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!”

The young lad’s head spun and his heart raced as he sang. The look on Marlene Miller’s face was one of genuine surprise mixed with devilish delight. Her mother and aunt seemed just as excited, even more so, if that was possible.

Oh god … I think I’m gonna be sick, the humiliated boy thought to himself. He glanced down at his childish costume and back up to Marlene Miller and the vindictive smile spread across her ugly, freckled face.

How did I get into this situa- … OW!!!

Yet another nudge from the ever enthusiastic Mrs. Tully prompted the poor lad to continue with the next verse. He was so ashamed, he felt so foolish, but he had no other choice than to do as he was expected:

“Good tidings we bring to you and your kin,
Good tidings for Christmas and a Happy New Year!
We wish you a merry Christmas!
We wish you a merry Christmas!
We wish you a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!”

Samuel glanced up at his grandmother, taking her cue to repeat the song. The expression on her face as she glanced down at him and winked was a victorious one. The bosomy babysitter’s voice was loud and proud while his singing sounded cracked and wavered; she had won and he had lost. The day was hers to claim, as was his dignity.

The defeated boy fought the urge to turn and run. It was just as well.

He had nowhere else to go.

***

A few hours earlier a naked Samuel Oliver was kneeling at the base of his babysitters giant Christmas tree, surrounded by piles of wrapping paper, ribbons and a stack of both opened and unopened presents. His bottom still burned from the “warning spanking” his grandmother gave him as part of her Christmas present to herself, thus the need to kneel. The simple act of moving was a problem due to the fiery agony that lingered over his pale, tender skin.

“That spanking probably hurt you more than it hurt me, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully teased after administering the merciless beating to his bare butt. “But you make Nana so happy when you let her paddle your pretty little bottom. So don’t you worry, angel. Just think how good it will feel when the pain goes away. And besides, Nana will make it all up to you. This is going to be a very good day. We’re going to have sooooo much fun! You just wait and see!”

Samuel forced himself to smile and nodded. He felt like crying, but that only made things worse; at least if he pretended to smile he could act like the pain didn’t matter. The truth was he wanted to get up and run away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Exactly why he didn’t try to escape was a mystery. Despite his age, he didn’t feel at all like a junior high schooler as he knelt naked before the bullying babysitter; he felt small and helpless and completely under the control of the domineering big bosomed woman who smiled down at him.

As he nursed his aching bottom the shamed child thought about his father for an instant, which was a mistake. He remembered how his dad kept telling him he was growing up, how he was “almost a teenager” and “nearly a man.” Looking down at his plump, exposed body, Samuel wondered what his dad would think of him at that very moment. He wasn’t like anything his father said. He was just the opposite, in fact. Naked and still sniffling in the aftermath of a humiliating spanking, he felt more like a little kid, a kindergartener, if that. He was, for all intents and purposes, Mrs. Tully’s prisoner, her helpless little pet, a plaything to tease and torment in any way she liked.

I’m just a stupid crybaby sissy, the forlorn child thought silently. I deserve to be here … to spend my Christmas like this, with Old Lady Tully. I just wish … I wish ….

Samuel tried to ignore his aching, blistered bottom and concentrate instead on something else. The tall tree shined with glistening tinsel and wonderful, toy like ornaments while the glowing fireplace warmed the room. Holiday music from the old stereo console filled the air, along with the scrumptious aroma of home baked pastries. Despite the cheerfully perfect and merry atmosphere, however, the pouting boy was more depressed than delighted, more frustrated than festive.

This isn’t right, Samuel thought as he gingerly readjusted his position; his knees were getting tired and sitting with his heels under his butt wasn’t too bad. He stared at the presents before him and tried not to think about the burning pain … or Mrs. Tully’s unrelenting, mocking stare.

This is so messed up, I … I don’t even know what to say, he thought to himself.

The flustered lad glanced over toward Mrs. Tully, careful not to make eye contact; as usual he found himself staring at her enormous bosom. The bosomy matron was casually sorting through the boyish toys and clothes he’d just opened, putting them in large paper shopping bags, these for toys, those for clothes. Samuel marveled at how her gigantic titties seemed to defy gravity, wobbling to and fro beneath her brightly colored “Mrs. Claus” dress.

“I’ll be done in a moment, baby doll. Just let me finish putting away all of the things your daddy got you, then you can open up the presents from your mother. There are even a few from ‘Nana Claus,’ too. I think you’ll really enjoy what she got you. You can open them up and then we can have us some real fun!”

Samuel stared sadly at the things he’d gotten from his father. In addition to the awesome camouflaged army pants and t-shirt, there were two pairs of jeans, a really cool sweater and an authentic leather bomber jacket. Oh, and don’t forget the packets of underwear! He pretty much had everything a boy could want and most definitely everything he would ever need. The problem was that none of it fit his body. None of it.

Not. One. Single. Thing.

Which explained why he was still naked, of course.

So close … and yet so far away ….

The disappointed lad felt his nose tingle as he stared at the pile of useless clothing. His eyes suddenly filled with tears and he let out a sob of despair.

“It’s not fair, Nana. It’s not fair!” he bawled. “It’s just not fair!!!”

Mrs. Tully’s grandmotherly face took on a concerned frown. “What’s not fair, baby doll?”

Samuel sniffed. “That none of the stuff my dad gave me fits me! Why couldn’t he have gotten me something that fit? I don’t like being naked on Christmas! It’s just not fair!”

“Oh, I know, baby doll,” the smiling woman cooed. “I know. You poor little thing. You’d think your precious daddy would at least get the sizes right. After all, you are his only son, aren’t you?” An impish grin curled her lips. “Well, at least that we know of.”

Samuel bit his lip as Mrs. Tully teasingly held up a pair of the superhero briefs his father had given him. The desperate child had tried them on, but they were so small he was barely able to get them up past his knees. The gleeful woman smiled at the superhero motif printed on the material and giggled.

“These are rather cute panties, aren’t they?” She then proceeded to neatly fold them and place them in one of the shopping bags. “You would have looked just adorable in them, hmm? It’s really too bad they don’t fit. Ah, well, some little boy down at the homeless shelter will just love them, don’t you think?”

The bashful lad pursed his lips, then nodded. “Yes, Nana.”

As much as it grieved him, Samuel had agreed to give up all of the ill-fitting clothes his father gave him for Christmas and let Mrs. Tully donate them to charity. It was just as well; no matter how many times he tried putting them on, nothing fit. Not one single thing. From the awesome army t-shirt to the cool leather bomber jacket, everything his father bought was at least two sizes too small. This was more than a simple mistake; this was a devastating event in the young lad’s life.

The naked boy took a deep breath. “Nana?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can … can I try those underpants on … you know, just one more time? Just to make sure? I mean, maybe they’ll fit this time.”

The mischievous woman shrugged. She raised an eyebrow, giving the hopeful lad a mocking smile as she dangled the dainty garment from her finger.

“Why, of course, baby doll. You want to try on your pretty little panties one more time? Here you go. Try not to stretch them too far out of shape, though. We don’t want to ruin them for some other poor little boy.”

Samuel got to his feet and eagerly snatched the underpants from his grandmother’s hand. He figured they wouldn’t fit, but he just had to try again. Who knew, there were at least three pairs in the package. Maybe this one just might ….

“They don’t fit!” he cried. “They still don’t fit!!!”

The pouting child was quite the sight as he stood in the middle of the room with the superhero undies bound around his knees. He pulled and he tugged at the elastic waistband in near desperation, but they just wouldn’t go up his plump thighs. The knees were as far up as they'd go. He tried in vain to force his legs further into leg holes, but short of tearing the stitching it was no good.

“They don’t fit, Nana!” he sobbed in defeat. “It’s not fair!”

Samuel knew he looked foolish as he danced around in a circle with his bare bottom hanging out, his little penis and balls bouncing about in the struggle, but that was the least of his worries. The idea of spending Christmas Day in his birthday suit was enough to make him frantic with desperation.

After several minutes of tedious pulling and tugging, Samuel reluctantly gave up the fight. The sad-faced child slid the underwear back down his legs. He looked up to see his babysitter beaming with delight. The look on her face made him feel like ashamed.

“Why the long face, baby doll? You’ve nothing to be sad or mad about. Why, just look at all the other nice things you got for Christmas. And there is so much you haven’t opened. Think about the other boys and girls who never get anything for Christmas. Trust me, sweetheart, you are one lucky little boy!”

“I don't feel lucky.” Samuel felt a tickle in his nose as he handed the accursed underpants over to his babysitter; it wouldn’t take much for him to start crying. He bit his lip and sighed. “I just … I just wish Dad paid more attention to me. So I wouldn’t have to go naked on Christmas Day.”

Mrs. Tully laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, baby doll. You won’t have to go around in your birthday suit much longer. I’m quite sure there’s something in these other presents for you to wear. Why don’t you open up something from your mommy? I’m certain she got you something nice.”

The naked boy’s heart skipped a beat as he rummaged through the packages, looking desperately for anything to cover his nudity.

“Can I open this?” he asked, holding up a box that looked like it might contain clothing.

“Of course, baby doll. I insist.”

Samuel looked down at the large rectangular gift in his hands. It looked suspiciously like a gift box from a department store, the kind a lady’s coat or one of his mom's dresses came in. His heart skipped a beat.

I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, the wary child thought with a sigh. Mom’s been acting really weird ever since we met Mrs. Tully. There’s no telling what kind of clothes are in here. Maybe she got me something stupid.

Samuel Oliver lifted the huge package and gave it a shake. Yep, it was clothes all right. He glanced up at his smiling grandmother.

The old woman gave him a sly, knowing smile. “Go on, baby doll. Open up your present. Maybe it’s something pret-ty for mommy’s little angel to wear.”

Samuel clenched his jaw. He wished Mrs. Tully didn’t talk like he was a little kid. That really got on his nerves. He especially didn’t at all like how she said “pret-ty.” Not one bit. His babysitter had a strange sense of humor when it came to dressing him up. Most of the time during his little visits he wore little more than his birthday suit; the few things she did allow him to wear were girlish and effeminate, to say the very least.

She’s trying to turn me into a stupid sissy, he thought ruefully. I don’t wanna be a stupid sissy!

“I am not a sissy,” he whispered.

Samuel glanced up to see his grandmother looking down at him with a smug smirk on her face. She didn’t say a word. She merely nodded her head, encouraging him to unwrap the box and reveal his mother’s gift.

Oh well, I might as well see what’s inside, he thought bleakly. Go ahead, open it up. The old witch is watching you, so you know you gotta do it.

Please let it be pants, please let it be pants … please, oh please … let it be pants …..

It wasn't.

To be continued ….

(The End)